#when i had the crumbles in a tiny tupperware

[ichorousisopod]

hehehehee there's BOXES at ikea..and i got them. and i'm gonna put my powders in one of those 😈

[cowgurrrl]

Omgggg Charlie. I love her. Could I please get a fluff piece of Joel having a cute little night in with her when she is tiny - mom is on patrol shift. It’s just him and nugget Charlie at home, him cooking, doing bathtime and doing HER LITTLE CURLY HAIR and just reminiscing about being a girl dad again

Charlotte Sometimes

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Summary: “Maybe our world will grow kinder eventually. Maybe the desire to make something beautiful is the piece of God that is inside each of us.” — Mary Oliver, from “Frank Marc’s Blue Horses” aka this ask [1.4k]

Warnings: talks of Tess and Sarah, Joel being the softest girl dad in the world, chronic pain, marital bliss

Joel never took care of his hair. Before the Outbreak, all his knowledge about hair was learned to protect Sarah's hair. Thanks to a lovely woman he met at Sarah's daycare, he learned about bonnets, leave-in conditioners, braids, and so much more. Joel would often come home from work with cracked and exhausted hands, but that all got washed away when Sarah sat in front of him with combs, sweet-smelling products, and hair ties. They'd listen to music together, talk about their days, and laugh as Joel worked his Dad Magic. Spending time caring for his daughter's hair was his form of meditation. 

After the Outbreak, he couldn't even look in the direction of the shitty FEDRA shampoo and conditioner without feeling pieces of him crumble and splinter like the face of his watch. He was always a rinse-and-go kind of guy, but especially so once he settled in Boston. There was always somewhere to go, something to do. He didn't have time to be alone with his thoughts, and he didn't want to. Tess washed his hair for him when he broke his arm during a shake-down. "You're killing me, Texas," she said when she brushed his hair back. She was the first person who ever cared for him the way he cared for Sarah. And it scared the shit out of him. Still, even after all those years, he remembers how she called him Texas and gave his malnourished strands attention. He remembers how she reminded him of that soft, vulnerable part of himself, and he buried it as deep as he could until he met you.

Joel never cared about his hair until Charlie was born with identical ringlets and wave patterns. The Miller Curls is the affectionate name for it. Everyone in the Miller family has had some version of The Miller Curls. Joel and Tommy's mom passed it down to the boys, and then the boys passed it down to their kids. Sarah and Camille have a scarily similar curl pattern, and Joel has given Tommy all the help to nourish her hair. So when you first noticed the tight curls forming on Charlie's head, you let Joel take the reins. 

By the time she's three, they have their own routine. Once a week, you work a night patrol shift with Maria or Ellie, sometimes Tommy, and he makes dinner. He usually makes more than is necessary for just three people, so you can take leftovers to Ellie or whoever you're working with that night, and you leave home with a full belly, Tupperware, and kisses from your favorite people. The second you're out the door, it's over. 

They chase each other around the house, color on the floor, sing loudly to whatever's spinning on the record player, and play guitar together. Well, Joel plays guitar, and Charlie just kinda makes up songs and dances. He strums to keep time with her, but she interrupts him with laughter and requests for new songs. Tonight, it's "Mommy's Song," which is what she calls your favorite Beatles song. When the sun gets low, they pick up the living room together, and Joel carries Charlie upstairs to take a bath.

He takes his time washing the marker off her hands, brushing the tangles out, and shampooing and conditioning her hair. Once she's out and in her pajamas, she sits in front of Joel and hands him the products he asks for: leave-in conditioner, spray, and cream to hold her curls. Maria and a few other parents in Jackson made their own stuff and taught Joel how to mix different oils and herbs to strengthen and condition her hair. It gives him a sense of pride, knowing he can take that extra step to show how much he cares for her. When he's done with the products, he lightly scrunches and wraps stray pieces around his finger to encourage the curl formation. 

By the end of their routine, Charlie is nodding off, her cheek smushing against Joel's knee. "Let's get you to bed, baby girl." He murmurs as he kisses the top of her head and carefully picks her up. She buries her face in his neck and wraps her arms around his shoulders, feeling nothing but safety and love as she falls asleep on him. 

When he lays her down in her bed, she doesn't immediately let go of him. She groggily blinks her eyes open to look at Joel in the moonlight shining through her window and smiles. "I love you, Daddy," she yawns and kisses his cheek. "I love when you do my hair, too." It's the last thing she gets out before rolling over in bed and closing her eyes. Joel sits there, as starstruck as the day she was born, and has to take a deep breath to stop himself from crying. 

"I love you, too, Charlotte." He says, but she can't hear him. He tucks her in a little tighter and kisses her temple again before leaving her room. 

When you get home from patrol, he's asleep on the couch, snoring with his arms crossed over his chest. You've told him repeatedly that he doesn't have to wait up for you, that you'll see him in the morning or when you crawl into bed. Nearly four years of marriage, and he still doesn't listen to you. You walk over to the back of the couch and push his hair out of his face to kiss his forehead, rousing him awake. He hums and lifts his arm to hold your hip. "If you keep falling asleep here, you're gonna fuck up your back." You whisper as he leans his head back to get a kiss.

"M'back's already fucked up." He says, his voice gravelly and deep from fatigue, and you laugh. 

"You guys have a good night?"

"The best," he says. "She told me she loves when I do her hair." 

"She did?" You gush, and he smiles softly. "I'm telling you, you've got a talent for that kinda thing." Joel Miller, hardened survivor and killer, has spent the last three years becoming a pro at handling his toddler's hair. There's a joke in there somewhere, but you're too tired to try and find it. 

"How was patrol?" He asks, and you reach for your shoulder. 

"All clear. I think I've gotta switch back to my handgun 'cause the shotgun is hurting my shoulder."

"Could be the cold, too."

"Could be how many times I've dislocated it." 

"And that one time you caught a bullet right," he trails his hand up until his thumb can press into the thick scar tissue near your collarbone. "There." He says, and you hum. You sigh and pat Joel's chest before walking over to the coat rack and shrugging your jacket off, wincing as you do. 

"Why don't you go to bed, and I'll join you after I take a shower?" You suggest, and an idea lights up his brain.

"Your shoulder gonna be alright?"

"I'll manage." 

"Y'know..." he starts, standing from the couch and waltzing over to you. His hands snake around your waist, and you raise your eyebrows at him. "A very smart lady once told me I've got a talent for doin' hair."

"I think I remember hearing that." You tease. 

"You gonna let me wash your hair for you, darlin'?" He asks, that stupid, sleepy southern drawl doing it for you every time, and you fight a smile. "To rest your shoulder, of course."

"Of course," you echo, squinting at him. You try to wrap your arms around his neck, but shooting pain stops you from getting very far. As much as you want to fight him and make him go to bed, you could also probably use the help. "You can wash my hair only if you promise to stop falling asleep on the couch when I'm on nights." 

"You drive a hard bargain, Mrs. Miller." 

"Mm." You hum. He pretends to think as his thumbs make soothing circles into your shirt. 

"I promise to try and stop fallin' asleep on the couch." 

"I'll take it." 

"Yeah?" He asks, and you nod. He kisses you and your injured shoulder, a gentle, sleepy smile on his face the whole time before he leads you upstairs and to the bathroom that still smells of his homemade products and Jane's lotion. 

Joel Miller never took care of his hair. At least, not until he had someone like you running your hands through it or daughters who needed him to care. Who would've thought that big, broody, dangerous man with the scar across his nose would be the same man to color on the floor with your baby or brush her curly hair or fall asleep on an uncomfortable couch just to make sure you got home safe? 

TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @moonandseatgr-yngf @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @korynnekorynne

[a-kaash-me-outside]

Hii!! This is for your 4k tinder match up event!

My name is Olivia and I’m an aquarius. My pronouns are she/they. I consider myself an introvert but when I’m with my family and friends I can be outgoing. I’m usually quiet and shy around others but when I’m talking about something I like or have an interest (like drawing, sports, baking, and animals) in I can get really passionate. I’m interested in a long-term relationship with a male character. I’m really drawn to people who are passionate about the things they like and people who are not afraid to to express themselves. My perfect night would either be watching a movie and relaxing or going to an aquarium. My favorite hobby is definitely baking. I honestly feel like my hq bestie would be Akaashi. I just feel like we could be good friends. 🖤🤍🖤🤍🖤🤍🖤🤍🖤🤍🖤🤍🖤🤍

your first date with suga was a walk in the park.

no, really, it was a walk in the park.

you had sent him a handful of dms poking fun at him before actually going on the date, small laughs and quips and harmless digs about how this better be the best walk in the park you've ever had and how you're pretty sure nowhere on your profile did it say that you liked nature and being outside.

he was so easy to message, easy to joke with, and when you first saw him in person, easy to get flustered easily around. he made everything seem effortless in the sort of way that you knew he really cared.

he met you at the park entrance, tote bag in tow and a picnic blanket draped over his arm. "the weather's really nice, you look really nice, this is shaping up to be the best walk in the park ever," he smiled at you, didn't even give you time to recuperate before nodding into the park, "but we probably have to actually walk for it to be the best walk in the park ever."

when you found a nice spot, suga laid out the blanket, carefully placing rocks onto the corners to keep it straightened out. he waited for you to sit first before he took his spot on the blanket and dumped the tote bag onto the fabric.

you saw it all in front of you. tiny easels, watercolor paints, cheap paint brushes, jars filled with water. sandwich bags filled with snacks, tupperware containers filled with random dishes.

and a tin of cookies. "i tried my best," he admitted, sheepishly offering you a baked treat, "i'm honestly sure they're not that good, so you don't have to eat-."

you took a bite out of the cookie. it somehow crumbles in your hand but hurts your jaw at the same time, not quite sweet enough to be considered a cookie, if you we're being honest, definitely more like a puck of crumbled bread if bread wasn't good.

"oh my god, you hate it," suga said.

you didn't respond, just pursed your lips and raised your eyebrows. he started to apologize, tips of his ears burning, shaking his head. "i don't really know what i was doing trying to-."

"it's okay, i'll teach ya how sometime," you offered, cutting him off and taking him by surprise. his features softened instantly.

"well, i just might have to hold you to that," he beamed.

[the-hate-keeps-me-warm]

kisses and cuddles

wooooooooo time for some more fluffy shit yall i loved making this so much this sorta relted to my weed garden fic but you dont need to read it (be cool tho)

Ruby was sitting in the cafeteria with Oscar and penny she was too tired to pay attention to what the two were talking about penny sitting across from her and Oscar was excitedly talking about something while Oscar liens looking interested she’s unsure how he’s so put together they were both up late hanging out dreading comics and it’s only 7 am she leaned on Oscar and closed her eyes hoping to get a little more sleep before She had to do missions she had a relatively short one today only a search and destroy so maybe she could get home fast and take a nap Oscar nudged her shoulder and she lifted her head “hey don’t fall asleep if you don’t eat you’ll be grumpy” he says she fakes a pout and starts eating the gross cafeteria food she assumed that atlas food would be good sense it’s so many rich folks but no she’s actually had  better tasting mres or maybe she was just getting spoiled eating Oscar and rens cooking “ruby why are you so tired did you have trouble sleeping” penny says drawing circles on the table with her finger “no me and Oscar were up late last night and I only slept like three hours“ penny frowns “while I am happy you and Oscar are spending time together you require at least 6 hours of sleep for maximum field efficiency” ruby just nods “so why don’t you seem tired Oscar you couldn’t of slept anymore than I did” she says with a yawn he shrugs and says  “I guess I’m used to it I had to wake up early back home so I always didn’t get a bunch of sleep” penny raises a finger “actually according to my scans  Oscars brain is only running at 89% efficiency and his hear rate is faster from his normal 48 beats per minute to to 51 it is likely that he simply better at hiding his tiredness” Oscar slumps “penny do have everyone’s heart rates memorized” he says exasperated “yes I also have all of your medical charts on file and criminal records why” he raises a brow “criminal record?” Penny nods “yes several of your team have criminal records qrow having the longest with 22 counts of public intoxication as well as 3 of public indecency and” ruby raises her hands “trust me you don’t wanna know the rest they had to make a new law for one of the things he did but who else has charges?” she tries to wake herself with conversation and it sorta works she also learns some new and unsettling things about her friends but eventually breakfast ends and she starts to get her gear ready she’s loading rounds into one of crescent roses magazine when someone knocks on the door to her locker room “it’s open” she calls out and incomes  Oscar he’s holding a small Tupperware box and a small metal tumbler “hey I wanted to give this to you before you go” he says with a sheepish grin he sets the box next to her and hands her the tumbler it’s warm and smells good “it’s coffee, don’t worry I added way too much sugar for you and the other thing is a surprise you said you don’t eat a lot on missions so I made it for you it’s a bit of an experiment so tell me if it’s bad” she’s grinning ear to ear and stands up from her weapon bench and hugs him “you are the best and I’m sure it’ll be great” she gives him a kiss on the cheek she’s been slowly trying to work her way up to kissing him on the lips but nose and cheek kisses were enough for her he smiles and his cheeks get all rosey  and he hugs her back and says “be careful ok sorry I know you can take care of yourself but just you know“ she squeezes him a little “yeah don’t worry I know  I’ll be careful and when I get back we are so taking a nap mister I’m not that tired” he giggles and looks up at her with a smile  “you won’t hear me complain and uh before you go could I uh kiss you like um on the lips” he says nervously she leans down pressing her forehead to his and smiles she smells his breath it smells like chocolate and coffee she feels her cheeks heat up to match his and says “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now are you sure you want to ” he nods his head wordlessly she takes his hand and gently presses her lips to his its short and maybe a little clumsy but it makes her heart soar when she breaks the kiss Oscars breath shakes slightly  and a little panic starts to fill her did she mess it up did he hate it and then he smiles and it all fades away “that was really nice” he says rubbing her knuckle with his thumb then there’s a knock on the door frame she looks up and weiss and Blake are standing there weiss looks annoyed and Blake is grinning “time to go ruby morning Oscar” wiess says already turning to walk away ruby quickly gathers crescent rose and Oscars gifts and says “bye Oscar I’ll be careful byeee” and dashed out the door behind the others Blake nudges her shoulder “your lucky I made weiss wait  ,god you two are adorable” ruby squeaks “will you stop spying on us”  “we weren’t spying you two dolts left the door open” weiss says annoyed 

 The mission was boring as she thought it was gonna be how normal soldiers couldn’t handle this she’ll never know on the airship ride home she opens   the box Oscar gave to her a note on top says “have a great day and stay safe” she smiles at the note and sticks it in her ammo pocket  it looks like a brownie is some kind and yang leans over and says “where did you get that”

“Oscar made it for me” she says taking it out of the container it smells like a peanut butter protein bar “ooo come on share with me pleassss” yang says putting her hands together “ugh your lucky I’m a good sister” she breaks off a small piece and hands it to yang and takes a bite of her own and it’s amazing it Taste like a peanut butter brownie but somehow better it’s somehow not dried out or crumbly yang seems to have a similar opinion “god if you don’t marry Oscar i will his food is too good”yang says with a laugh  she kicks yang in the leg “I know right I can barely eat the cafeteria food anymore” her and yang chat a bit about food until they finally land Oscar is standing on the landing pad waiting for her she bounce on her heels excitedly despite how tired she is when the door finally opens she rushes out to hug him “how did it go” he asks wrapping his arms around her shoulders “oh it was easy but soooo boring I don’t know why they asked us to do it” she says leaning into him he chuckles “well I’m glad it wasn’t dangerous at least did you like it” he asks sheepishly she puts her head on his “yeees brothers it was great what was it” he unwraps his arms and looks at her “there’s no name for it yet but it’s kinda like a protein brownie was it too grainy or anything what about the after taste” he asks “I didn't even realize it was supposed to be healthy” she puts her hands on his shoulders “Oscar I’m gonna need more of that” he smiles “happy to make some more tonight” he says proudly yang walks past and ruffles his hair “make sure to make enough for me too kiddo” and walks off “how about that nap ruby my teams still on mission so we should have some time” he says taking her hand “yes please” 

They walk back to team alpns dorm room after ruby changes into something more casual Oscar was already wearing his normal clothing he sits on his bed and smiles “I’m gonna get to have two naps today” she sits down next to him and throws her arm around him "you and your team  sure like your naps huh" he smiles as they lie back on his bed "honestly who doesn't like naps I never use to be a huge cuddler but it’s nice to have someone close to you, you know” they lie back Oscar resting his head on rubies shoulder “well I do  wish my team took naps together sometimes yang is a big cuddler too but Weiss  doesn’t like being warm and Blake can’t sit still even so less than you” he snorts as he takes her hand running his thumbs along her knuckles  “well I’m sure the others wouldn’t mind you joining our naps if have to ask but i'll warn you ren sits up in his sleep  Jaune snores and i talk in my sleep” she raises an eyebrow “you didn't last time” she says “that's cause we were smoking  but if i take a nap or if im really tired you can actually talk and I'll talk back” she grins “well what do you talk about”  he rests his head on her chest “usually about my aunt or all yall but Nora has told me i say lots of stuff about you if i'm asked” he says his cheeks getting just a tiny bit rosy she grins and plants a kiss on his nose “well i hope i get the chance to ask but i'll probably fall asleep first im super tired” she rolls over and wraps herself around him oscar adjusting to lay on her arm pulling a blanket over them "well if you can get me to talk I'll answer any question just nothing to embarrassing please" he says  “i would like to know what you have to say tho so maybe i'll try to hold out just a bit longer” she says closing her eyes as oscar lets out his relaxed sigh about half of Oscars communication was nonverbal she liked to mentally catalog the things he does when he relaxes he lets out a long almost high pitched sigh it makes her happy to hear that and it helps her relax her thoughts starts to get fuzzy as sleep takes her she wakes up a few hours later laying on her back oscar laying on top of her them both having wrapped around each other she hears quiet murmurs  coming from him to quiet to understand "Oscar are you still asleep" she whispers no response "Oscar are you comfy" he nods his head "of course I'm comfy I'm cuddling with ruby" she snickers he was definitely still asleep "who's the coolest person you know" she she's "ruby for sure she's so good at fighting and everyone trusts her I wish I was more like her" she runs her hand through his hair "how do you feel about ruby " she asked "I'm in love with her she makes me feel strong and weak at the same time when she's with me I feel like I'm safe and that we could do anything together i want to be with her forever" she's crying now "oh shit I didn't expect him to be that honest" she thinks as tears run down her face "I love you too Oscar"     she kisses the top of his head “you know i never used to want like romantic stuff and all the fluffy garbage i just wanted to be a huntress and fight grim stuff like that but you  make me want that stuff i wanna take you on dates and like hold your hand and stuff there are a bunch of things i wanna do like” she pauses resting her head on his “i forgot you were asleep for a second i'm starting to embarrass myself i do love you tho i dont know when your supposed to say that we've only been i guess dating for what 2 and a half weeks my dad always joked that huntsmen relationships move really fast nothing like holy shit we might die to move a relationship forward right but you make me feel like i don't know amazing and I love being with you you make all my worries disappear even if it's only for a little bit and i'm rambling and your not talking back” oscar lifts his head “its cause im awake and i love it when you ramble” she feels her face light on fire “w-what when did you wake up” he hums happily “around we might die  i think it was nice that stuff you said you can ramble longer if you want what that new gun you saw in that magazine” she smiles “it's a roller delayed blowback sniper rifle its a smaller caliber than crescent rose but it has a longer effective range because of the way the bore is shaped i prefer bolt actions to semi automatics for a long range rifle semi autos have there merits and stuff it's a lot lighter than crescent rose as well on account of it not also being a giant scythe you know i was thinking about carrying a pistol too crescent rose is great but shes heavy and she's also really hard to conceal  even when shes folded speaking of i need to clean her gears a bunch of dust got in them today you said you wanted to learn weapon maintenance i could teach you today if you want” “sure i can learn there's a lot of things oz knows but it's like a big library without a librarian its all jumbled up” she scratches the back of his neck “well i do not understand the dewey decimal system but i'm happy to help” they both giggle at her joke ruby keeps rambling until the rest of team alpn return 

Oscar is walking ruby back to her dorm they come to her door and they turn to face each other and oscar rubs his hands together “so ruby uh I got permission with ironwood to leave school grounds as long as someone's with me so I was wondering if you’d like to maybe go out like on a date” she smiles and puts her arms around his shoulders “sounds amazing sweetie I’m free this weekend where do you want to go” he blushes and says “well I actually have something in mind but I wanna keep it a surprise if that’s ok” she kisses him on the cheek “of course casual clothes or should i dress nice” he shakes his head “i mean it's really up to you but were not going somewhere fancy just a place I think you'll like" she smiles and kisses his nose and he leans up a little so there lips are level "can i kiss you again" he asks just above a whisper her pressing her lips gently against his is her answer they  hold the kiss for a few moments Oscars hands drifting to ruby's waist when they separate  she says "i think we're getting pretty good at that" Oscar smiles avoiding her eyes "yeah um It's certainly enjoyable" they break the hug "I'll see you in the morning I'll make that stuff you like ok" he says "yes awesome you're the best Oscar good night" she says as she slips into her from her teammates giving her knowing smirks 

[teacup-crow]

The Christmas Runner

On the 12th Christmas Eve after the world ended, Molly and Carena told someone the story of the Christmas Runner. Major end of S3 spoilers, very minor spoilers for early S5. 

I spent all day in bed and this happened? Will probably go on AO3 once I polish it (and when it’s actually close to Christmas). Promise it’s wholesome!

(In my headcanon here Carena is 15, Molly is 13 and Sara is 7)

“Sam’s givin’ you how much to watch her?” Carena Skeet spluttered, towering over the younger girl, leaning her hands over her head on the brick wall of the housing block. The moon was a sharpened, thin crescent, and lights winked in the guard towers. Over in the main barn, they could faintly hear the twanging of a slightly out-of-tune guitar and some tipsy singing, suggesting the grown-ups’ Christmas Eve party was already in full swing.

Everyone said that Molly Harrison was the prettiest girl in Abel, with blonde curly hair and eyes blue enough to knock out zoms, but right now she was shifting foot-to-foot, looking more irritated than anything else.

“A loaf of crusty bread and a pot of blackcurrant jam, and… you’re not having any of it, Caz.”

“Dr Cohen only promised me a bloody book!” Carena pouted, but avoided stomping her foot. She’d about grown out of that. Nobody would dare call her pretty, but she was too, in a fiercely intimidating way. It was two months until she turned sixteen and could finally start Runner training, and she’d already begun practicing first thing every morning, tearing around the training shed when the sun had barely risen. Where Molly was soft and homely, she was angled and muscular. “You can read it if you let me have a spoonful.”

“That’s a rubbish trade and you know it! I won’t always go along with everything you tell me to do, you know, it’s not fair-“

“Oh blah blah blah, quit whinin’, let’s just get the job done before they realise they double-booked.” She dropped her hands and stalked away. Her foster dad’s old fireman jacket was too big on her, but wearing the king’s clothing added to her swagger.

“You don’t like kids,” Molly pointed out, stumbling a little behind her as she strode off to the front door.

“Kids is fine. Kids is kids. I have, like, fifteen siblings. I know what I’m doing.”

“Yes, and you don’t like any of them. And they’re all the same age as you!”

“What can I say, I’m not good at sharing.” She turned and gazed pointedly at Molly, who shrugged it off. “It doesn’t take two people to babysit a seven year old.”

“Yeah, so go away, Caz. You don’t even want a book.”

“Gotta get on Dr Myers’ and Sam’s good side if I want to be recommended for Runner, don’t I? Janine respects their opinion more than anyone else except Runner Five.”

“So go and sit on guard duty with Runner Five and earn their approval.”

“You jokin’? Five’s batshit.”

“They’re also the only reason we’re not dead, so maybe you should be a bit more respectful.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t try to tell me what to do, Molly Harrison...” Carena’s tone was affronted, teetering on nasty. Then she stopped herself. “But yeah, you’re right. Five’s batshit bonkers, but they’re awesome.”

“And scary?” Molly added.

“Yeah, if you’re a wuss.”

They’d reached the green wooden door of Maxine and Paula’s apartment, a wreath on the outside, a menorah in the window. Sara had hung paper chains all down their part of the corridor. It made both the teenagers smile for a second or two.

Carena knocked, to no reply. She tried again. 

“That’s weird,” she muttered.

“Sara, you in there?” Molly tried, peeking through the window. 

“Sara, we brought chocolate!”

This caused a patter of feet to charge towards the door. Carena grinned. “First rule of kids is lie through your teeth.”

“MOLLY!” Sara sprang through the door in a bright blur of red sweater and green trousers, and jumped into Molly’s outstretched arms. “Did you bring Galileo too?”

Years before, when Archie Jensen had lost Mildred van der Graff to an explosion, Five had managed to get their own chicken back to Abel relatively unscathed. Molly, already interested in animals even as a small child, had adopted Galileo Figaro, a now-geriatric menace with a beak that had lasted longer than anyone expected. The hen had strong memories of her dinosaur roots, and, apart from Molly, Five and Sara, would attack almost anyone who dared enter the coop.

“Galileo’s an old hen, she’s resting.”

“She went cluck-cluck-cluck over the rainbow bridge to Ed Harrison’s stomach, you mean.”

“Caz! Dad would never!” Molly looked scandalised as Carena burst out laughing at her own joke. Thankfully, it went over Sara’s head as she dropped down from Molly’s arms and stared up at Carena’s jacket in awe. Caz ruffled her mop of springy hair affectionately. She liked this kid, at least. It was very difficult not to.

“Hello, baby Sara, how’s it goin’?”

“Good, Princess Caz! I’m making a jigsaw puzzle. It’s got a million trillion pieces!”

“Sounds like an absolute riot. Tell you what, Molly can finish it with you and I’ll heat up the rations.”

Molly nodded despite herself, taking the pudgy little hand in hers and stepping into the cosy apartment. “Okay, let’s go, hopefully we have all the pieces...”

“Daddy had to remake some of the missing ones but he said you can barely tell the difference, sort of! Anyway, you said you had chocolate?”

This was still one of the oldest housing blocks in Abel, but instead of enough bunks for eight people the two rooms comfortably housed the little family of three, bathroom splitting a bedroom on one side and a family room on the other with a table and a bookshelf and warm candle-lit lamps too high for Sara to knock over on the mantelpiece. Woollen throws covered the kind of battered armchairs you sank into and artwork lined the walls. There was even a tidy kitchen corner with a kettle and a camp stove and a stack of chipped plates and mugs. It was one of Carena’s favourite places: better even than sharing a room with some of the roller girls on a rare trip to see her foster dad in London; much better than her own springy bunk in the children’s dorms, the wall behind her chequered curtain plastered in pictures and photos and plans but still not private enough to block out the whining and crying of the little ones all night. It was nice to see a place where a real family lived. When she stood in the centre of the room, she could squeeze her eyes shut and almost picture the faces of her real parents, her actual bedroom, the kitchen they’d had with a white-tiled floor. Or was it sand-coloured tiles? She wasn’t quite sure, not that she’d admit it. Whenever anyone asked, she always said she remembered the pre-zombie world perfectly.

“Caz? Are you heating up the food or...?”

“I’m getting to it!” She stomped towards the stove, where Sara’s parents had already left a few crumbling Tupperware containers of pea soup from the kitchens, and Molly had brought a bowl of eggs to hard boil if they felt snacky. Not particularly inspiring, but then food had been limited for the last week as the kitchens saved all their supplies up for Christmas Day. And none of them knew how to be fussy: Sara and Molly did not remember a time when food was plentiful, and Carena’s last remnants of pickiness had been starved out of her when the Ministry occupied Abel. She’d been nine, and her stomach hadn’t stopped rumbling for that whole terrible ten months. It ached again a little just thinking about it. She wondered if that had left her weaker, permanently damaged her chance to become a Runner or a roller-girl. As if her asthma wasn’t enough of a handicap. Well, she’d do it anyway. Nothing was going to get in her way, least of all the legacy of those who had hurt her foster father. 

“Three bowls of green soup, coming up!” She added a lick of salt, and stirred the metal pot. The ruckus from the square was louder now, almost matched by the younger girls playing with the puzzle behind her.

“I can’t tell if this is supposed to be a man’s face or a rat.”

“Daddy’s not a very good draw-er.”

“I mean… he could use some practice, to be honest. Any clue on where this piece should fit, Caz?”

Carena doled out the bowls and spoons. “Looks like a squiggle with earmuffs to me. Sam’s crap at art.”

“Don’t swear in front of Sara!”

“She’ll be fiiiine,” Carena rolled her eyes. “Lighten up, Molly.”

“Yeah, lighten up, Molly!” Sara echoed jubilantly. “Crap, crap, crap.”

“Okay, you can cut it out now. Eat your dinner.”

Molly changed the subject, sensing another mischievous outburst of swearing on the horizon. “Are you excited for Christmas, Sara?”

“Yeah! Did you hear that we’re going to have a hog roast and potatoes?! And games! And, and, Ms Marsh knitted me a hat and mittens!”

“How do you know about that?” Molly admonished. Sara immediately looked caught in the act.

“I… maybe heard her and Mama talking about it.”

“Did you ‘maybe hear’ or were you spying on your Mama?”

“I wasn’t spying! People just think kids can’t hear stuff!”

“Hey, spyin’ is a great skill, don’t knock it, Mol. Don’t worry, we won’t tell.”

“I wasn’t spying!” Sara drank down the last of her soup, licked the bowl, and pouted adorably. It was hard for the babysitters not to laugh.

“You know, I think that piece might actually be a clockwork mouse. I think it goes down at the bottom…”

They finished the jigsaw with only four missing pieces. “It’s… a big man in a red coat with a white beard! With lots of toys. I’m going to call him Mr Bob.”

“Sara, that’s Santa. Do you not know about Santa?”

“Father Christmas?” Molly tried, although she wasn’t completely confident either. Sara looked blank.

“You know my father is called Sam Yao?”

“No, baby, Santa Claus is different. He brings things to good children at Christmas.” In the back of her mind was an image of Ed in a terribly cobbled together Santa suit, a tiny Molly on his shoulders. A good memory in a flock of bad ones. It twinged in her chest.

“He’s a Runner?”

Carena sighed. “Basically. Yeah. Santa Claus is just another name for the Christmas Runner. Every Christmas Eve, he goes from township to township, leaving gifts for all of the children.”

“How does he get through the gates?”

“Well, duh, he lets the township leaders know what time he’s going to come on Rofflenet first. And he’s really fast, so he doesn’t need to worry about Raiders or zoms. He’s got a big sled drawn by nine dogs for all the presents!”

Sara’s eyes sparkled. “What are the dogs called?”

“Well, the main one is Rudolf, and he’s an, an Irish red setter. Or he wears a red jumper, like you. Something to do with red. The other ones…” she looked to Molly for assistance, and realised the blonde girl was just as enraptured. “The other ones aren’t important.”

“Caz!”

“Fine! Dasher, Dancer, Prancer… Victor?” 

Her mind drew a complete blank. Somewhere in her subconscious, a woman’s voice read the words of Twas the Night Before Christmas, but she couldn’t quite make them out. “Um… Gold, Frankincense, Myrrh and Spam?”

Molly snorted in surprise, her face contorting and shoulders shaking as she tried to hold back a peal of laughter. At least Sara seemed satisfied. “Okay, so how come I don’t hear them all?”

“He sneaks in with magic and only when you’re extremely tired so it’s, like, impossible to stay up to hear. But if you leave a sock on the end of your bed he’s guaranteed to put sommat cool in it.”

“How will he know what I like?”

Molly looked thoughtful. “Maybe you should leave him a list? But you like a lot of things.”

“And my socks are quite small.” Sara looked pensive, kicking her feet in the air to check the size of them. “You two should write lists as well!”

“I’m too old to write one-“ Carena tried, but Sara was already insistently jabbing a pencil and an old receipt at her from a scrap paper drawer in the cabinet.

“These big long lists from the olden days are perfect, we can use the back.”

Carena’s eyes flitted over the receipt. Morrisons. Mango, papaya, hummus, avocadoes. All words she didn’t recognise, foods she would never get to try, and, suddenly intimidated, she laid it down on the table. She wasn’t the strongest reader or writer at the best of times - she’d learned too late, and it was difficult with so many new things in a row. Sara sounded out the letters on her own list as she wrote, her reading already confident.

“Dear Christmas Runner. Thank you for all your hard work, and for taking so many risks to deliver presents…”

Molly glanced over at Carena with a dash of awkward concern. They’d shared a schoolroom as children, and again for the last few years, and had some of the same frustrations, although Molly struggled more with maths and numbers and the purpose and point of algebra and geometry than writing and words. “Can I write both of ours, and you do the pictures? Your drawings are really good.”

Carena nodded, and got up abruptly to wash out the pot and make some tea. Outside, the town choir had drummed up enough numbers to give a few carols a go. She cracked open the window a little to let the sound filter up. 

“I would really like some bubblegum but I know it is hard to find and my mothers don’t like it so don’t worry if you can’t find any. I also like marbles and you can fit lots of them in a sock!”

“You’re already running out of space!”

“Okay. Lots of love from Sara Myers-Cohen-Yao, kiss kiss kiss! What are you going to ask for?”

“Nicer soap,” Molly said, quite serious. “And I need a new metal bucket for chicken feed and milking. Mine is close to holes.”

“A bucket won’t fit in a sock!” Sara scoffed with childish mirth. “That’s ridiculous!”

“I don’t know, she has really big feet.” This made Sara giggle even more, and slide off the chair to look at Molly’s feet more closely.

“Ha, ha, ha,” Molly gave Carena a mock-withering stare. “What do you want, Caz? I’m doing yours now.”

Carena thought as the water began to bubble. All she really wanted was to be a Runner. To explore. To get buckets and soap and marbles and gum and make faces back in the township light up. All she wanted was her lungs and airways to do as she commanded, her muscles and heart to work with her, to let her push past exhaustion. 

“Eh. Shoelaces would be nice.” She smirked at Molly. “Or some chicken fat.”

“Make one more threat to my chicken’s life, Carena Skeet and you won’t be getting anything from the Christmas Runner!” 

“I surrender, I surrender!” Carena laughed, and poured the tea. “Anyway, shouldn’t you be in bed by now, Sara? If we’re going to get this Runner to come at all.”

“But I’m not even tired,” the small girl yawned, still on the floor with her head on the chair and cuddling one of the throws her mothers had stacked on the sideboard. 

Molly grabbed the rest of them. “Come on, we’ll build a blanket den, have our tea in there, and Caz can tell you more about the Christmas Runner.”

“Startin’ to feel like Caz does all the work around here,” Carena added, stirring in milk and honey and using the puzzle box as a makeshift tea-tray. “Go on then, lead the way.”

Five minutes later, they’d constructed a large blanket fort and, huddled together inside it, Carena began to tell them everything she remembered from the world before, embellishing the odd detail or ten.

“You’re lying, there were no flying snowmen.”

“Well, I saw a film about them!”

Eventually, Sara curled up and fell asleep, thumb in her mouth, dreaming up a jumble of tinsel and angels and dancing snowmen and turkeys.

Molly smiled, sleepy herself. “You know, you’re actually really good with kids.”

“You’re actually good at lightenin’ up.”

“Yeah! This was fun. I had a really nice evening.”

“Molly…” Carena began, and stopped. She tucked Sara’s blankets around her a little tighter. She didn’t know how to say how safe she felt, maybe for the first time since she lost her brother, warm and wanted and hopeful, surrounded by the peace she wanted so badly to fight for. “I think tomorrow is gonna be a really good day.”

The bell in the square jangled once, twice, twelve times and for once they didn’t panic. It had been years since a horde went anywhere near the gates. This was midnight.

“Merry Christmas, Caz.”

“Merry Christmas.”

***

Carena awoke under a pile of blankets, her head on the end of Sara’s bed, the sound of Dr Cohen humming in the kitchen as she fried the eggs for breakfast, and caught three bulging stockings out of the corner of her eye. A lump came to her throat as she saw the book, as promised, bound in ribbon, that she recognised even without reading the words.

The Abel Runner’s Handbook, fourth ed.

She nearly knocked the wind out of the doctors in her rush to hug them.

[corpse--diem]

Snick Snack Paddy Whack | Ben & Erin

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @professorbcampbell​ & @corpse–diem SUMMARY: Erin pays a visit to an old high school acquaintance. Some crushes die hard. So do snicker-snackers. CONTENT WARNINGS: none

Morgan’s classroom was empty when she arrived, save for the few students that lingered after her afternoon lecture. Her things were still at the desk, meaning her undead friend was here somewhere, likely having stepped out for a few minutes. “You don’t know where Professor Beck went, by any chance?” Erin asked one of the girls who was leaving as she lingered in the doorway.

“I think she mentioned something about grabbing some materials from the library?” The student shrugged, nothing but nonplussed in her demeanor.

Perfect. Not that she didn’t want to see her friend but it was just enough time to slip out unnoticed. Erin nodded her thanks and set the tupperware container and note on her desk. She hadn’t planned on staying long regardless but she wasn’t about to use Morgan without at least leaving a brainy treat behind as quiet thanks (even if she didn’t know it). “Can you tell me where Professor Campbell’s classroom is?”

The young woman’s directions led her down a short walk through the campus. It was hard to tell if class was clearing out or just starting by the thin trickle of students moving in and out of the room but Erin’s eyes could only focus on one thing. Ben Campbell. Suddenly, she was fifteen again, knees weak and tongue heavy in her mouth while her brain struggled to catch up around her. This was dumb. Without much more than her job to occupy her these days, her free time was abundant and curiosity (and other things) had led her to this doorway. This was about as far as her planning had gotten her. When she realized she’d been standing in the doorway far too long, watching some of the last few students reluctantly leave themselves, she cleared her throat and slapped on what she prayed was a less awkward smile. “Ben? Ben Campbell? Is that you?”

“Alright, that about wraps it up for today. Excellent discussion, I highly recommend bringing some of the topics we discussed into your essays. Remember, drafts are due in a week and a half. Have a good one.” Ben said with a nod and a smile. A few of his more studious pupils remained and he answered their questions patiently, but as he glanced around the lecture hall, he realized there was an unexpected guest in the back of the room. A woman, somewhat familiar-- he couldn’t quite place her. As he dismissed the last few curious students, he slid his hands into the pockets of his pressed dress pants and smiled, “That I am. And,” As he neared her, Ben realized just why she looked familiar. Erin. Nichols. Of the failed funeral home. They’d been talking recently, after he’d returned from his brief break off social media. “Erin! It’s good to see you. What brings you to campus?” He asked, intrigued.

He remembered her? Erin’s expression perked up, even if she hated that she realized Ben Campbell simply acknowledging her had that effect on her. “It’s good to see you too,” she grinned, taking a few bold steps into the room. When was the last time she’d seen him properly? It was a small town, and on the occasion they inevitably bumped into one another or cast a glance at community gatherings. She became painfully aware she’d never been alone in a room with him until just now. “I was just visiting Morgan--Morgan Beck. She’s a good friend of mine. I was on my way back to work before I remembered you guys taught in the same department.” She cringed internally at herself for the thousandth time. “Figured it couldn’t hurt to pop by and say hi, if you weren’t busy.” She stiffened and glanced around at the emptying lecture hall. “You’re not busy, I hope?”

Pulling his glasses free, Ben listened to her as he tucked them back into the soft case and blinked as though the transition was a bit of a strain on his eyes. But, it was a gesture, just as most of what he did was. He didn’t need glasses, there wasn’t even a prescription on the lenses. It just helped him look the part. And that was what he was doing, after all. Playing the part. At the mention of Morgan Beck, Ben kept his expression neutral, though inside a hint of irritation boiled up. Bitchy fucking Beck. That woman was such a pain. “Ah, yes! Yes, she’s an adjunct with the department, but we’ve interacted at meetings and such. Wonderful woman, excellent teacher from what I’ve heard.” Well suited for all of those budding future writers/baristas, he thought privately. “How did you know I taught for the department, though? I don’t remember mentioning what courses I taught.” He asked, though as he watched the way she seemed to brighten up and look at him, he had a feeling he knew the answer. “Oh no, not at all. This was my last class of the day.”

Erin stared longer than what was probably socially acceptable as Ben made a small show of removing his glasses. Part of her wondered if it was intentional, and another part of her would normally be rolling her eyes, but the part of her brain that had reverted back to 2003 really didn’t care. “Oh yeah, she’s brilliant. Just don’t ask too many questions if you don’t have an hour to spare,” Erin teased lightly, crossing her arms over her chest, eyes flitting anxiously from Ben to different areas of the room. Fuck. She really should have thought this through a little more. She could plot the demise of an evil crime lord but she couldn’t fucking figure out how to talk to Benjamin Campbell. It was quiet for a moment, and she wasn’t sure if it was her anxiety clawing at the walls of her mind or actually scratching, but she moved on without much though. “I just… guessed,” she fumbled for a moment, shrugging nonchalantly. “Morgan said you worked with her so I figured you were all somewhere in the same realm.” She took a long breath and found her feet moving more confidently towards Ben. “Oh, good,” she smiled again, tilting her head. “So that means I can bother you for as long as I’d like now, right?”

Watching the way she looked from him to the room and back to him, Ben couldn’t help but smile. Oh, she must have been one of those girls in high school. He didn’t remember her much, but through a little bit of browsing on Facebook and the town’s messageboard system, he’d been able to pick up on some things. He hadn’t been lying when he mentioned that he had gone to basketball games-- he had, mostly because it had been a good place to build a good rapport with some of his classmates, get them to trust him, that sort of thing. But, he hadn’t remembered her much. She was just another face in the crowd. But, it seemed she had been one of the girls who’d been rather smitten by him and had managed to escape him before graduation. With a laugh, he nodded, “I can understand that. Get me started on Roman architecture and I can do the exact same thing.” He replied, though it pained him to even draw the most minute comparison between himself and Beck. “Well, what a lucky guess for me.” Ben said with a grin as she approached him. “By all means, bother away.” He said as he retrieved his attache case from where it sat by the lectern.

Just as he was about to turn his attention back to Erin, a flicker of motion flashed in the corner of his eye. Ben frowned, his forehead creasing as he stared at a spot in the wall of the lecture hall. He could have sworn that-- “Did you happen to see something over there?” Ben asked, pointing to the spot where he could see something moving inside the wall.

God, with everything in her, Erin prayed she didn’t look nearly as aloof as she felt right now. This trip had probably been a mistake. She should’ve waited around for Morgan to return, chat with her friend over the deviled cow brain eggs she’d made her, and went on her way rather than feed the flame to some schoolgirl crush she had over twenty years ago. She had way too much time on her hands lately, and the shy, excited grin that followed his words did nothing but prove any of that right. “Lucky for the both of us, honestly,” she agreed with a tilt of her head. She’d just rested against the side of a nearby table when his attention perked forward. God damn it. Her eyes eventually moved from the concentrated look on his face to the source of the scratching. She heard it. Saw it too, when the paint cracked along the spot of the wall. “What the--” she started, standing at alert now. “I see that, yeah,” she answered, wondering if this was a sign she should’ve just. Stayed. Home. Despite her better instincts, she was moving towards it, curiosity peaked. The scratching and rustling grew louder and louder. Something--many somethings--were rushing through the wall. The wall groaned and creaked as she timidly approached it, gesturing with a hand for him to follow. “Shit, it sounds like you have a whole herd living here. You might want to call some--” A furry brown spot whizzed by her feet and she yelped, startling backwards with little grace. “Oh fuck no. Nope. This was--I gotta go.”

As Ben continued to stare at the wall with confusion, he couldn’t help but wonder what exactly was going on here. He prided himself in knowing this university-- this town even-- like the back of his hand. It was his domain, how dare something infringe upon his space. “A herd?” He asked. For a moment, he opened his mouth to correct her. A herd was a term typically used for large, four legged creatures; this was more like a pack or perhaps a mischief. But, before he could, the aforementioned mischief made itself known by hurtling out of a crack in the wall. First one, then another, and another. Until there was suddenly a crumbling, gaping hole in the plaster. “What in the--” Ben said, jumping back with a start. He held his case tightly in his hand and smacked at one of the furry brown animals that skittered towards him. The tiny ratlike thing bounced off the side of his leather bag and hit the wall, though at least a dozen more poured out of the ever-widening gap. “Oh my Lord.” He muttered as he watched his lecture hall begin to fill with a mass of furry, squeaking rodents. “Yes, running-- running seems wise.” He said before stumbling backwards. As he moved, one of the panels in the floor gave way underneath his shoe and Ben let out a loud curse. “What are these things?”

The thunderous sound of what looked like hundreds of tiny, skittering creatures pouring into the lecture hall overwhelmed the room. Erin wanted to say rats but they didn’t fit the typical description. Rats didn’t have horns. They swarmed by her feet, despite how quickly she was trying to get away, and she found out after her high heels cracked underneath her, these things also had strong, quick teeth. Her heels were gnawed to ribbons and she abandoned the shoes completely, grumbling curses in her panic. “Are you okay?” she shouted above the noise, watching him struggle on her way towards the door. The impact of whatever the hell these things were was clear as every wooden thing they touched started to give way. The door to the lecture hall opened. The early, unsuspecting student’s eyes were glued to his phone until one of the rodents dropped from the ceiling, sending him flying back out of the room. Her jaw set tightly as they rushed by her feet, the little pricks of sharp teeth nipping at her ankles. She jumped up onto one of the metal legged tables circling the room, using what was left of her shoe to push the creatures back. It took about one swift, hard smack but they met bloody ends as easily as they came. She looked back at the stairs, the floors completely covered in a mass of moving fur, then at the desks leading back up towards the door. “Looks like we’re climbing,” she glanced back at him, squashing another one as it came towards her, blood squirting out from under her shoe from all sides.

Waving his case back and forth around him, Ben grimaced as blood splattered across the polished leather. He could handle blood on his suit, that wasn’t a problem. But this was Italian leather. Glancing up at Erin, he saw that she was handling herself just as well as he was. Other than the fact she didn’t have her foot stuck halfway through the floor. With a grunt, Ben lashed out with his case, clearing a small patch of floor for him to pull himself up. As he did so, he could feel teeth latching onto his legs, his hands, his arms. “Vermin!” He spat, shaking them off as he hurried towards the door. “Oh, I’m doing just fine.” He said over the chittering, squeaking sounds around them. When his Lord Hrvsht’ooooor rose to the earth, Ben would have to make a note of these particular nuisances. At Erin’s words, he caught her meaning. “So it would seem.” He said before jumping up on top of the desk. Blood and matted fur covered the soles of his shoes as he did his best to climb after her, his arms and legs stinging from the bite marks. “Awful, vile little cretins.” He muttered as they hurried up towards the exit. So close, but so, so far.

Erin probably should have helped him out of the hole but with no shoes and nothing really to protect herself, handsome or not, the guy was one his own. Thankfully he took her cue and followed behind her, and as she used his to steady herself, she internally grumbled about dressing up as she hiked her dress up and leapt from one row of desks to another. Whatever these things were, they weren’t rats. They weren’t anything anyone was going to find in a textbook somewhere in this university. Just another White Crest brand of things that shouldn’t exist but do, huh? As far as she could tell, these things weren’t trying to kill them. Nibbling nuisances for sure but by the sheer amount of them, they’d have been gnawed down to the bone by now if that was the case. She hoped, anyway. But there it was--the exit. The door was cracked open, enough to allow a small trickle of them to slip out and into the hallways, but it had kept them mostly inside. A river of rodents flowed through the aisle between them. The final barrier between them and their way out. She groaned loudly. “Of fucking course.” She glanced down at Ben’s shoes, tattered and bloodstained, grabbing onto his very muscular arm and pulled what was left of her heels back onto her feet. “I’m going to be sending the university a strongly worded letter after this, I hope you know,” she tried to joke but much of the humor in her laugh was pure annoyance. She raised a brow. “We’ll jump on 3?”

Jumping from desk to desk, Ben left a trail of blood and fur behind him as he continued to stomp and smack at the vicious little creatures that seemed to be hell-bent on eating their way through the room. Kicking another out of the way, he watched as the horned rat creature careened through the air and back into the writhing swarm. As he and Erin converged on the last desk, he held still for her to catch hold of his arm. Irritating, honestly, the way she was clinging to him, but he didn’t think there was anything for it. “You know, I’d be happy to sign off on that. Give some credence,” He paused, smacking another rat creature away, “what with being faculty and all.” With a nod, Ben counted, “One, two, three.” With that, he leaped forward and made a mad dash towards the door, pulling Erin along with him.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Erin nodded with a huff. Most of her attention was fixed on what path to take when they hit 3. There wasn’t a good answer there. She’d never seen an infestation like this--there was more horned rodents than carpet visible, and when they leapt, floor and bone alike crunched beneath their feet, blood splashing up at their ankles. But they’d done it--they were spilling out into the hallway and Erin slammed her shoulder up against the door with some effort, the final shrieks of those rat-like creatures meeting their end as the door shut on them. Futile, probably. They had burrowed through walls and floors alike. A door wouldn’t stop them, but it kept some distance between her and them temporarily. She didn’t stop moving, even as her lungs heaved for breath, broken shoes clacking down the empty hallway. A few still scurried by their feet, scaring off unsuspecting students and faculty. Glancing back only to see if Ben was following her, swiping at her arms and legs as if they were still crawling along her skin. “Still in one piece?” she asked, noticing his once polished demeanor was a little more moth-bitten bargain bin chic than before. Not that she had much room to talk. She shook her head, stopping only when they’d put some distance between them and the lecture hall. “What the fuck were those things?”

As soon as they were in the hallway, Ben fumbled with his key and locked the door in a futile effort to keep those things at bay. He knew it wouldn’t help, they’d emerged from the walls, for goodness sake. But it was better than having the plague of furry, ravenous beasts coming after them. Erin was already running down the hallway and he ran to catch up with her, blood squelching under his shoes and his curly hair falling in his face. Tilting his head down a corridor, he replied, “I think so. I wish I could say the same for my case.” He said, looking down at the raggedly bitten corner of his bag. “Are you alright?” He asked, remembering that he should probably pretend to care about her well being. He gave her a once over-- she seemed to be in better shape than him, less bitten if only because she hadn’t gotten stuck in the floor. “I haven’t the slightest idea. I’ve never seen anything like that before.” He said with a baffled expression on his face. “Have you?” He asked, curious. She’d reacted… rather well, all things considered.

Erin had never seen anything like that exactly, though comparatively, they were practically harmless to the more gruesome things she had gone up against. She probably should have looked more upset or bewildered than what Ben was surely expecting but she was just--pissed. It was no secret that this town or the mysteries of it were getting to her. Not that Ben was privy to any of that information, or deserved any of the anger it brought up. “No,” she shook her head, resting her back against a wall, letting the coolness of the brick calm her frustrations. Deep breaths helped too. “I mean, I’m fine. My shoes? Not so much, but otherwise--no, I’ve never seen a rat look like that before,” she answered and shook her head, shook her head, reaching down to inspect the damage. The heels had been chewed down to nubs. Great. She tossed them into the trash bin beside her once she decided they’d be more of a hindrance on her way to the car than a help. “If you’re good, I’m gonna go shower for about a thousand hours now and pray I didn’t just catch twenty new variations of rabies.” She ran a hand through her hair, pushing off the wall, debating on whether or not to stop by Morgan’s classroom again or just tuck her tail between her legs and run home. She paused for a moment in the hall, that last trickle of hope layered in with maybe a trace of teenage desperation still coursing alongside the adrenaline in her veins. “Raincheck on the whole me bothering you thing? Maybe?” She raised an eyebrow, cringing slightly even as she said it.

There was a strange expression on Erin’s face, one Ben was annoyed that he couldn’t quite read. She hadn’t reacted as poorly as some of the students he’d introduced to the darker side of this world had, and he’d always started off small. No sense in putting their fragile minds before the full might of his Lord when they could barely handle a caged brownie. Erin had reacted in a similar way to him-- attack and then flee when it became clear it was a losing battle. Wiping at a streak of blood that ran down his chin, Ben nodded and watched her toss her shoes away. “Pity about the outfit, it suited you. Before, well,” He gestured to his own ragged suit, the hem of his pants in tatters. “All of that.” With a sigh, he ran a hand through his hair in an attempt to set it back in place, but brown locks hung limply against his forehead. “That sounds like an excellent idea, I’d best do the same.” Ben said. At her last words, though, he couldn’t help but smile. So she was still interested in him, hm? Intriguing. He’d love to pick her brain, see just how much she really knew. Pulling out a pen from his pocket, Ben reached for her hand gently and wrote his number on her palm. “Call me sometime. Perhaps over coffee, next time.” He said with a chuckle.

Erin froze in her spot when he came closer. Why was he coming closer? Her face flushed red when he took her hand and for a moment she completely forgot where she was--forgot they’d just run from a stampede of supernatural looking rats, or that she wasn’t even wearing shoes or that her feet and ankles were bleeding all over the university hallways. Something hideously close to a giggle erupted from her as he etched the numbers into her skin. Oh, he was definitely smooth. Her? Not so much. “Coffee, yeah.” She cleared her throat, trying to stop the frantic static waves in her brain from cutting off her ability to speak. “I’ll do that.” She managed those three words with more of a struggle than she’d ever admit. Another giggle-like laugh slipped from her throat and she wanted to stab herself in the eye with that very pen. Damn it. He knew. There was no way he didn’t. She didn’t trust herself with words anymore at this point, instead opting to give a small wave as she backtracked out of the hallway. Gave a quiet yelp and hurried apology as she nearly smacked right into a student on their way to class, before booking it the hell out of there.

[angelbittyabuse]

Marie's Return, part 2/2

(TW: The infamous chain bitty is mentionned down below.)

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"Pff, you look like one, anyway." She smirked before turning to the next wooden box. "How many are there?" She complained. "Six. Only six." Answered her colleague. Okay. Four left to go. This one read Sugarfloss. Oh. Oh-oh. Maybe having them sent by the post office wasn't the best idea ever. Élodie did a quick check on the box. 'It's written Sugarfloss Bittybones on it, but all you'll find in there is dust.' "Shit." The colleague shrug. "Okay. Three more left, then." Sugarfloss were Papyrus-type bittys. Optimistic and kind, their downside was their fragility. Something as simple as too intense sunlight could blind them forever. Their were allergics to almost everything and clumsy as hell. "They should have written 'fragile' on it." Added the guy before opening the next one. Élodie still felt quite uneasy due to the mass massacre that had occured to the Sugarflosses. She hoped they could order new samples before Angel notices anything. "Awww, you ain't coming, Élo' ?" The monster girl came back to reality. "Which breed it is?" She was curious. "Guess." Answered the other. "Uuuuh...." "It's so cute you could eat them?" Élodie's face lighten. "Caramel!" "Yes!" The girl ran to the newly open box, discovering a puddle of goo in tupperwares. The papyrus-type bittys inside it nearly drown in their own waste. "Oh. Crap. How would we keep them inside the store? I read the goo attracts bugs too..." The last thing they wanted was cockroaches or ants inside the store... The worst case scenario being an unremovable stain in the perfectly white floor. "Fish tank?" Asked the colleague. "We will drain it once in a while." "Hmm." Sang the fell girl. "I hope they like to swim." The Caramel were all excited to be taken out of their tupperwares and- well- to be alive as well. They made grabby hands to the employees who passed their turn. "Next box?" He asked. "Next box!" She answered. It had been okay-ish until now and she was hopeful for what's next. As they were struggling with the lid, Marie came back from the rescue room, empty handed. "Hey, how is it going?" Asked the brown haired human girl. Élodie felt the lid giving up when she answered her bestie. "Perfectly. And you? Had fun?" She paused. "Wait. Where are all the jellybeans?" Did she left them with the pygmys? "The kind chain told me I could leave them to it." Élodie furrowed her brows. "Wait. What?" There wasn't two chains in the store. Actually. There wasn't supposed to be any. She was obviously talking about Angel's pet chain but what was it doing in the store, moreover in the backroom... "Oh no..." Élodie went pale. Chains are cannibalistic lamias. Usually, they only eat other bittys when they think of them as a threat but this chain in particular- and with jellybeans being limbless and thus looking a little like tiny snakes. "We'll have to order more jellybean samples as well." Said Élodie dryly to her coworker. "Also we're out of pygmys." While Élodie was handling the problem in the backroom, Marie was left with said coworker. He finally took the lid away, revealing... "Are they sick??" Cried Marie, rushing to the three lollys, lusty Sans-type bittys having a threesome in their steel cages and definitely not interrupting it just because the box had been opened. "I-" The guy had a quick glance to Marie. She was obviously a young adult. Old enough to be explained such things. "My boss' looking forward to them. Could really be helpful in the breeding mill. They are... always in heat kinda bittys?" Marie turned pale, raising her hand as she tried to pet the closer one through the bars. The reaction was immediate and she ended up with ecto-flesh all around her index finger. "I- I think it likes me??" Tryed to compromise Marie but she jerked her hand off as soon as she could, only for the lolly to sing out a moan of pleasure. "Well. Crap. Was it your first time?" Joked the guy. Marie did not answered but smelled her hand with a funny face.

Okay. Last one. They were already done. Being such a gentleman, the guy waited for the lamia expert to come back before ruining the suspense.

The previous incident had been forgotten as soon as Élodie understood what they were opening. "New lamia breed!!" The fell girl actually jumped once or twice on her feet, even doing a little happy dance. She turned to her bestie. "First time I'm seeing this breed! And they were rare as hell some days ago! I can't believe we have access to-" She turned to the box with a huge and wide smile. Her colleague wasn't holding back his laugh, seeing her that excited. Marie didn't really understood what was playing on but she joined in and exulted to the idea of petting new lamia friends. "No touching." Élodie warned as the lid fall to the ground with a thump sound, revealing five young Bubblegum bittys. They had been sleeping the whole way here and opened tired eyes to their surrounding, their adorable, sweet face, matching the oh so glittery pink scales. To Élodie, it reminded her a little of those pony toys she had as a child, the ones hollow with glitters inside. Or maybe those glue sticks with glitters inside. Or even this vampire from the movie with glitters on him---- anything with glitters, really. "Aaaaaah." Cooed Marie. "They are so pretty." The little snakes let away a small yawn, showing two cute little fangs. "Are they venomous?" "The flyer didn't say they are." Reassured Élodie, still fangirling and overdosing on the adorableness. Would be amazing to see them everyday in their pen. "Wait. How do you give them Soultime?" Realized her colleague. Élodie's orbits opened wide. "I- I don't know. Not without touching them- I..." Here was the glitch. Little sneks could not be touched or else, they'll imprint on the person's skin. Once imprinting, it's over. You cannot put them away. They're stuck on you or else they'll cry their non-existent lungs out to the point of turning you deaf. So yeah. For the Soultime part... "Guess we just have to sell them real quick." They were also supposed to be quite the chatters. Thinking of it... Those were probably drugged on for the whole way here to be still so quiet. Well. Not like it mattered, back to work it is! It was time to put them in one of the sneks drawers she had in one of the rooms. Handling the first one with a hook, the little cutie holding it with both of its hands, she started to move it. Out of the box- okay. Now a few steps. Still okay. The cutie was looking at its surrounding. Still okay. Marie was walking next to her and next to the cutie, cooing. Still okay. The cutie was having a mishievous smile while looking downright at Marie. Not okay. It let go of the hook and started falling on the dangerously-high-for-a-bitty ground. Not okay at all. Élodie panicked and grabbed the lamia BEFORE Marie reached for it, thus saving her friend but condamning herself. Fuck. "I wanted to be the hero!" Pouted Marie as Élodie was frozen with fear, her face becoming more and more livid while the bubblegum lamia slowly turned its face to its new '''''owner''''', a wiiiiiide grin on its small shitty face. It took a huge breath then. Started. "I'msohappywebondedandmyownerlovessnakesweweremeanttobewhatareyounamingmeohandwhat'syournameactuallyitdoesn'tmatterI'mgonnacallyoumamaitsuitsyousomuchbettersomamawhatdoyiudoforfuncauseIlovehavingfunandwewillplayalldaylongnowandalsoI'mhungrynowtheygaveusweirdpillsthatmakeushungryafterandwe'veseensuchprettyandweirdcolorafterwe'vetakenthepillsandtheydancedtoodoyoulovetodance,Ilovetodance,look!!" As the bitty started dancing and Marie started clapping in her hands to encourage the artsy bitty, Élodie felt her life crumble.

"It's fucked." Her coworked had lay his hand on Élodie's shoulder. "Nobody is leaving you in this kind of shit. We'll tell Angel it dusted during the trip. Just kill it." Élodie shivered. "I- I'm not wasting a brand new bittybone..." She stuttered. "You can't have any bitty at home anyway. And you sure aren't upsetting your landlord for this... thing." The monster girl considered the idea. Dipping the bitty in the acid was the way to go but this dancing one was now holding so tight around her arm that it hurted. She would have to surrender her arm to be released.

"We have a hammer in the toolbox."

He said. "It'd be quick. Won't feel anything and you'd keep your arm." "What a waste..." Sighed Élodie as they were going to the toolbox, followed by Marie who did not understand a thing, as amazed as she was by the chatting Bubblegum bitty who would not be so happy if it had listened even a little to what had been said. They were now holding tight the bitty's upper torso on the table, its tail still dangerously and tightly curled on Élodie's arm and the hammer was right over its head when Marie finally realized. "YOU MONSTERS !!" She then snapped the Bubblegum from Élodie's arm and it was fair to say it hurted a little- "Nothing racist of course. I'm not racist." Marie defended in an angry tone, remembering that, indeed, at least one of them was a monster. "But how could you-" It just took that amount of time for the Bubblegum bitty to start to wail. The noise was... Intense. To say the least. Marie was sushing and reassuring all she could the crying atrocity. Her voice could not be heard over that but she exploded. "How! How could you do that to HIM, look how upset he is!!" She was now freely cuddling it as the bitty flailed, trying its best to reach back to Élodie. The monster girl looked at her colleague, at loss for what to do. "Since you were planning to kill him, he's mine, now! I saved him!" Élodie tried to talk her friend back to reason since the imprint was already done and there was no way this bitty would accept a new owner but- with that noise- and with how upset Marie was... Élodie and her colleague just ended up staring at the leaving guest, holding tightly her flailing new lamia. ... "Wow. Your home is actually more quiet than I expected." Said Élodie with an uneasy smile. It had been a few months since her best friend talked to her, so the invitation had been more than welcomed. "I-... No. Nothing." Bittys were now a sensitive subject between them. Élodie just spent their evening chatting and laughing and everything was great until Marie had to leave for a little time in the bathroom. Élodie was left alone with her thought in the silent living room, scrolling absentely on her phone until a knocking sound was heard. "Bump." Okay. What was that shit. "Bump. Bump." Élodie stood up and went for the noise. It was coming from what looked like a big jewel box which was sitting on a shelf. Muffling sounds soon to be heard as she got closer. Her open hand reached to the box in curiosity and she almost opened it but- Yeah. She didn't want to know what or who was inside.

.

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[all-pacas]

elementary post: a little tiny thing about this show and joan specifically that i love is that characters are allowed to be vulnerable? in the episode i’m watching, joan is taken hostage. she stays calm and compassionate and gets herself and the others hostages free, leading to a brief scene where she’s sitting at an ambulance with a blanket around her. police captain comes over and asks if she’s okay... and she says no. he then puts his arm over her shoulder and rubs her back.

that’s it? that’s the scene. but the show does that a lot — joan will say if she’s upset, if she needs time. sherlock tries his best not to admit the same, but gets markedly better at it as time goes on — but joan in particular will do that, say when she isn’t okay, and that’s fine. the show treats it as reasonable and healthy and good. she sets her limits — i just need a few days, she says. other characters support her, or she supports them, or sherlock sits on the couch with her and watches tv until she frees him from his attempts at bonding to let him work, and the show always treats it as a positive: it’s never dramatic or teary or a big moment, walls crumbling down, weakness revealed through trauma. it’s just: i had a hard time and i’m not okay.

the scene at the ambulance: we don’t even see the captain’s face; the camera is focused entirely on joan. he becomes just a presence, and instead of her acting tough for him or him reassuring her that she’s tough, he rubs her back like he’s her dad, just letting her not be okay and reassuring her. and the show is always emphasizing that: sherlock in season one sitting a vigil with joan, joan making piles of tupperware pasta for a colleague when he’s injured, sherlock begging his coroner bff to get grief therapy, and joan later going to coroner bff’s terribly comedy shows, every single person praising and using support groups — NA for sherlock, a rape support group for kitty, the grief therapy — sherlock cooking breakfast for joan, joan sitting on the roof with him watching his bees, the show is all about the importance of just being there, comfort from others, about struggling to be okay and not being okay and that being okay. and it’s so good.

[bisexualklausmikaelson]

like she’s made of outer space

a/n: au future fic or Hordak asks Entrapta out on a date - things are awkward, he’s awkward, but she kinda likes that about him. Among other things.

-

She shines so bright underneath the summer moons - Entrapta is beauty in the form of stars, in Hordak’s eyes. Every step, every breath, every inch of her soul. He sees nothing but brilliance - but the mind of a smart and fascinating creature that intrigued him to no end.

“Hordak,” she says as she approaches him. His name falls from her lips like sugar cane, it sounds so sweet, so delicate. “What is all this?” Entrapta asks, looking around the park Hordak had invited her too.

She assumed he wanted to work on a new experiment with her - an experiment that required nature and fresh air, for some reason. 

But nope.

That wasn’t the case at all. 

Hordak was sitting on a blanket with a basket full of food beside him and a bottle of sparkling water that he was currently pouring into tiny little plastic wine glasses.

“What does it look like?” he shrugs, looking shy. “I’m courting you,” he whispers, motioning for her to take a seat beside him.

Entrapta raises a brow. “Courting?” she questions, looking confused. It takes her a few moments to put the pieces together.

The fake candle-lights, the strange blush on Hordak’s cheeks (can he even blush? seriously?), the way he kept avoiding eye contact with her -

“Oh, this is a date,” Entrapta finally realizes, placing a finger on her lips.

“Of course it is,” Hordak says, rolling his eyes. “Why else would I call you all the way out here, alone?” he asks.

She sighs heavily - Entrapta finally digs her hair into the picnic basket he brought. She picks out, what looks like, some kind of pasta packed into pink Tupperware set.

“Did you make this?” She asks, while playing with her food.

Hordak knows that his skills in the kitchen are a bit lacking. But, when he asked the ever-so romantic Scorpia how to court someone, cooking a meal was her first suggestion.

So in the end, he blames Scorpia for this.

“Tried to,” he shrugs. “I’m not much of a cook,” Hordak goes on to say,

“It’s okay,” she offers him a small smile, taking a few bites of his food. “I appreciate the effort,” she sings.

“Thanks,” Hodark replies.

He watches her taste and try everything - from the pasta, to the fruit salad, to the apple crumble -

She keeps all comments to herself though, for now.

“So,” Entrapta hums, once she notices how quiet things are, “Why ask me out on a date?” she wonders.

Hordak stammers, looking around before answering her. “I don’t know,” he mumbles quietly. “You’re intelligent, gorgeous...funny-”

“I’m funny?” she repeats, widening her eyes. “Really?” she asks, tilting her had to one side.

“Yes Entrapta,” he nods. “You’re very very funny,” Hordak says, seriously.

She can’t help but release a fond laugh at his comment. This was just so…unlike him. He was always so busy and angry, working and working away – probably all uptight and restless. Until the day he met her.

And suddenly, she became a refuge for the wicked.

“Huh,” she chuckles. “See, I always thought you were the funny one,” she teases, placing a pointed finger on his chest.

Hordak swallows hard, he’s unable to part his gaze from the view of her lips, pursed and waiting.

“Well,” he whispers instead, looking away. “I’m glad I can make you laugh - despite it being at my expense,” he finally mutters, before she giggles again and goes back to eating the food he made her.

He wonders what she even thinks of him – right now.

-

Afterwards, she’s licking honeysuckle stains off her fingers from the crumble.

Entrapta lets her tongue glide over her lips to reach the last of the dessert, sweet, sticky and still tangy from the fruit – she finds herself craving more of it – especially when she notices the huge smile plastered on Hordak’s face.

“You know,” she starts with. “That was actually pretty good,” she admits, leaning her head against his chest.

He eases into her touch, noticing how her hair smelled of roses. “All things considered,” Hordak says. “The meal could’ve gone much worse,” he laughs – thinking of the mess he had left in the kitchen.

He wonders if Catra will obey his orders to clean it up for him without asking too many questions.

He wonders if he should just do it himself.

He wonders if he should just swallow his pride and ask Entrapta for her help.

“Next time,” she interrupts his train of thought by placing a hand over his. “Maybe we can make the meal together,” she suggests, while drawing small circles over his palm.

He blinks twice – taking his time to come to the realization that she wanted to see him again.

“Does that mean I get a second date?” Hordak questions.

She cups his cheek and smiles widely. “Yes Hordak,” Entrapta nods, leaning in to softly kiss him. “And maybe a third and fourth one too, if you’re lucky,” she goes on to say as she pulls away.

He’s stunned by her boldness – and for the moment, he’s completely star-struck.

Entrapta smirks, making Hordak uncomfortable was slowly becoming her specialty.

-

[jeontaeh]

〚EIGHT〛

You could say things had changed between Jungkook and V.

Firstly, they began meeting every morning and after school to practice for football and tutor for math. It was.. well it was work, definitely. V wasn't exactly easy on Jungkook, kept saying I'll fuck you upside down if you run one more lap to which Jungkook would respond with I rather run 10 laps then you do that.

And while studying maths (which seemed more disastrous each time), V would be all like if you suck my dick I'll study math I swear and Jungkook would be like so you want me to prostitute myself for your benefit and V would be like yes.

But they took one hard stance, and that was no sex while doing all this. Even though they'd been fucking around for a week or two, they were already quite invested in one another. Sexually.

So it'd been a week since they had sex or done anything sexual. Simply making out in dark janitor closets counted, Jungkook guesses- but nothing extreme.

Before when V used to speak, Jungkook wanted to beat him up. Now, he just wants him speaking those words into his ear while fucking him. Before when V used to act like an asshole, Jungkook wanted to throw a chair at him. Now, he gets kind of turned on. Before when V used to look at him, Jungkook used to put his middle finger up. Now, he blushes.

So yeah, you could say things have changed.

Or at least Jungkook thought.

It was a sunny, sunny day on the field, sweaty boys running across the pitch, all muttering curses as another bead of sweat rolled down their foreheads. The coach wasn't on site, so V was left in charge. And that was never a good thing (except in bed).

"V is so fucking annoying- I swear to god if he- if he wasn't Captain I'd beat his ass." Hoseok grumbled, and Jungkook sighed.

"Same. Ugh, he's so goddamn rude- why does he have to make us run so many laps? It literally wastes so much time. I bet he just does it to show off." Jackson added, kicking a ball afar.

"Well yikes. He must've not gotten laid for a week," Jimin giggled, and Jungkook saw V near the bleachers, stood beside Namjoon (who looked annoyed) while he yelled at some boy.

"We're literally wasting so much time!" Yoongi said in annoyance, and Jungkook hummed, dropping the ball he was holding. "I'll go talk to him."

Yoongi frowned. "Do you want us to run more laps??"

"What? Relax- he'll listen to me. I'll just tell him to stop being annoying-" Jungkook said, and Jimin grabbed his arm.

"Good god don't rub salt on the would," Jimin said, and Jungkook pulled his arm away.

"Will you guys calm down, it's just V." Jungkook said, and Jimin sighed, so Jungkook went ahead and jogged over to V.

"-and if you could literally lift your goddamn foot off the ground and move you wouldn't play like a 7 year old." V snapped, and Jungkook saw the boy he was yelling at, Youngjae, nod in fear.

"Y-yes. Sorry. I-I was just-"

"Fuck off." V said, and Youngjae nodded and scurried away. Jungkook turned to face him.

"V, stop being an asshole. Everyone wants to play knock offs, can we just get onto that?" Jungkook said, and V turned to him slowly.

"I'm sorry- did I ask?" V spoke sharply, eyes dark and eyebrows darker. Jungkook scoffed, his own eyebrows furrowing.

"Well I'm sorry- none of us asked you to be captain," Jungkook snapped, and Namjoon cleared his throat.

"Actually... we did... it was a group vote-" Namjoon mumbled in the back, but both boys ignored him.

"Fuck off, Jeon. Just go kick the ball against a wall or some other shit people who suck at football do," V grumbled, and Jungkook's shoulders lifted in anger.

"You fucking annoying rat- will you shut the fuck up for one goddamn second? God, no wonder you suck at everything! 'Cause your dumb, thick brain can't comprehend a single thing!" Jungkook shouted, and V turned around, and then shoved Jungkook back.

"What the fuck did you just say? I suck at everything?? That's pretty fucking ironic coming from you, you- you.. cocksucker!" V snapped, and Jungkook shoved him, his eyes glinting with red with his anger taking control of him.

"Say that one more fucking time-"

"You cocksucking slut-"

"V! Jungkook! Get off each other-" The coach shouted, and Jin pulled Jungkook back, while Namjoon pulled V back. "For god's sake- can we not have one practice where the two of you don't quarrel like 12 year olds?!"

"He started it!" Jungkook mumbled, and V glared at him. "Shut up- he's the one who-"

"Quiet! That's it- both of you take a lap. Around the school. The whole school. One more word and I'm benching both of you next game." The coach snapped, and V turned to him in confusion.

"What? Coach, I'm-"

"V don't test my patience. Get going right now." The coach ordered, and Jungkook and V both glared at each and then began walking off the field.

"I hate you. I fucking hate you." Jungkook grumbled, both walking out of the bleachers and onto to the path of the school.

"You're such a whiny bitch- no wonder since all you do is have your face shoved into books all day. Fuckin' nerd," V snarked back, and they both kept walking, kept walking rather quickly down the side of the building.

They both knew where they were going.

"You should be glad I didn't beat you ass right there."

"Ha! Like you could. Weak ass bitch."

"I'm the weak ass bitch? You're a weak ass bitch, you weak ass bitch."

"Shut the fuck up."

A shed appeared in front of them, one where they stored sports equipment. V reached for the door and pushed it open, and the moment he did- Jungkook pushed him and shoved him against a wall, slamming the door close.

They both instantly pressed their lips together, Jungkook gripping the sides of his neck a little tightly while V squeezed his hands onto his tiny waist harshly.

"Fuck you. Fuck you- you're so fucking annoying-" Jungkook grumbled as he pulled away, tugging V's shirt over his head and then throwing it to the side.

"You're so fucking gay, Jeon. Can't even come up with a good fucking comeback-" V grumbled back as Jungkook pulled his shirt over his head, and then pushed him back until Jungkook's back a counter against a wall, and began kissing him roughly.

Jungkook pulled away, and V placed his hands onto the counter, cornering Jungkook into it. "Do you know how much you irritate me?" Jungkook growled, and V smirked.

"Enlighten me. How much do I anger you?" V asked, and Jungkook's chest moved up and down as V brought his lips to his collarbone.

"So much- so fucking much. I hate you-" Jungkook started, and V started kissing down his chest. "You're the most annoying person I know." V kissed around his nipple. "Sometimes I just wanna punch you in the- ah-" Jungkook let out softly, as V wrapped his lips around his nipple.

Jungkook gripped V's hair and pulled him back. "Stop it. This isn't happening. Not like this it's not." Jungkook grumbled, and then stood up straight, almost asserting his dominance.

"I'm tired of you thinking you giving me shit. I've had enough of it- you think I can't dominate you? Can't do what you do to me? Can't fuck you senseless, is that what you think, V?" Jungkook husked, eyes dark as he saw V smirk a little, hair pulled back in a bandana.

"Oh you think-" V started, a snicker leaving his lips. "You think I'd actually submit to someone?" V said, and then laughed. "You've got it all wrong, Jeon. I don't submit, I expect people to. I'd never get on my knees for anyone, and that's a fact." V whispered, and then placed his hand atop Jungkook's stomach.

"Well you're wrong! I can fuck you too, and I will!"

V grinned. Jungkook frowned. "What, you don't think I can? You-"

"I'm sure you can, Jeon." V said softly, and Jungkook paused.

Okay he wasn't expecting that.

V slowly looked at Jungkook, his eyes tracing every part of his face. His big eyes and fluttering lashes and small lips and the little mole on his chin. "But I don't think you want to." V whispered, and Jungkook looked confused.

"What?"

V leaned towards Jungkook until he was crowded right into the counter, looking trapped and tiny. "See, I think you like this. You like submitting, don't you? Like letting someone else take control? You rather have someone else do the work than you do it yourself," V whispered, letting his hands trickle down his side.

Jungkook gulped, and then his breath hitched when V wrapped his fingers around the waistband of his shorts and boxers. "See I think-" V started, and then pushed them down, letting them drop to his feet, Jungkook standing there naked with his eyes big. "I think you like when I talk to you like this."

Jungkook gulped, cheeks pink, breathing heavily. "N-No.." Jungkook squeaked, and then V leaned behind him reaching into a small tupperware box with a sign on it which read For y'all Kinky mf's. You could say this was a popular spot for students.

"So you don't like this?" V whispered, breath trickling on Jungkook's cheek. "Don't like it when I bring you to your place. Fuck you senseless. Degrade you a little. You don't like it?"

Jungkook shook his head, his doey eyes big as apples, blinking hesitantly, hands crumbled into tiny fists which reached up to place on V's shoulder. He was hard.

"Hm. Don't like this, babygirl? Don't like it when I'm rough, do you?" V whispered, and Jungkook shook his head lightly, but saw V's eyes wander down to his cock, and his cheeks flushed.

"V-V-" Jungkook squeaked, and V looked up at him. "Sit on the counter." V commanded, and Jungkook gripped the edge of the counter with his hands and jumped onto it, sitting in front of V, adams apple bobbing up and down.

V then grabbed a packet of lube, ripping it open and drizzling it onto his fingers. "Spread your legs." V stated bluntly, and Jungkook did, in an instant- spread his legs wide, feeling himself twitch a little.

"Y'know what, Jungkook?" V said softly, saying his name for once. "You're a bit of a princess in bed." V whispered, and then leaned in, a smirk on his face as he gripped Jungkook's thigh with one hand and pulled it up, his fingers awfully close to his fluttering hole. "And I think I'd like to keep it that way."

A gasp left Jungkook's lips as V pushed two fingers in at once, and he instantly bucked his hips up for some attention, and V shook his head, looking up at him. Jungkook gripped the table he was on carefully, throat hitching.

"Look at yourself," V whispered, eyeing the way his fingers so smoothly went into Jungkook. "The way you take me with no hesitance. You're strong, you know- you could stop me in an instant if you wanted. But you let me, you let me take control, you let me do what I want. S'a little oxymoronic, isn't it?" V smirked, and Jungkook looked away with his cheeks burning.

"Sh-shut up," Jungkook squeaked, and V pushed his fingers in until they hit Jungkook's prostate, and Jungkook's lips let out a small cry.

Minutes later, and Jungkook found himself biting down on his lip as hard as could as V pumped his cock fully into him, gripped both his thighs, having them placed up. Jungkook gulped, looking away from V, his cock spurting out a bit of precum with every thrust into him.

V kept pushing in until he found his prostate, and Jungkook finally let out a moan which sounded squeaky and weak. V frowned, one hand reaching up to grip his cheek. "You okay?" V asked.

Jungkook nodded quickly, and V gulped, seeing his eyes glisten with tears. "Hey- hey what's wrong?" V said softly, and Jungkook finally looked at him, eyes glittery.

"I don't like you very much." Jungkook mumbled out in a small voice, and V let out a chuckle, and began thrusting into him slowly rather than fast as always.

Jungkook bit his lips, moving his hips down to match the pace of V's thrusts, feeling the thick member move in and out of him. "God, I love it when you tell me you hate me. It turns me on. Almost fucked you on the field back there,"

Jungkook giggled, fingers fumbling into V's hair. "I hate you." Jungkook whispered sensually, and V began thrusting faster. "Fuck, I'm close-" V replied, and Jungkook laughed.

His laughter hitched into a moan when he felt a last slam to his prostate, and then came in ribbons. Since he was in an awkward position, the cum trickled down his inner thigh, and Jungkook whimpered.

V looked at him for a few seconds, and Jungkook was about to lean in to kiss him, but V said "You're kind of small."

"Fuck you."

"Not your height! I meant your dick."

"Fuck you! I'm not small, you're just weirdly big." Jungkook snapped in defense, and V grinned really wide.

"Am I? I never knew if I really have a big dick or not because guys in porn always have massive dicks and I've never seen another guy's dick properly. Girls always told me I had a big dick but like I never knew if they were just saying it or if they actually meant it-" V blabbered, and Jungkook gripped his shoulders tightly.

"V! Will you shut up and cum in me already?? Jeez your dick's been stuck in here forever!" Jungkook snapped, and V rolled his eyes in a scoff and then thrusted one last time before cumming undone into the condom.

Jungkook giggled. "You look funny when you cum."

"No I don't. You should see yourself. You look like a rabbit."

"No the fuck I don't. You look like a seal."

"Seal? Like the singer?"

"No like the animal you dumbass! Take your dick out of me-" Jungkook snapped, and then V took his dick out and rolled off the condom, throwing it into the trash.

"You should be happy I last so long. Bet the other guys who've fucked you didn't last as long as me." V said, and Jungkook gulped.

"They lasted longer, but go off."

"Fuck you."

Jungkook hopped off the counter, and Jungkook bent down to pull his shorts off the floor, and V slapped his ass. Jungkook stood straight up in an instant and glared at him. "Stop that!"

"Oh come on you had that one coming," V scoffed, taking his shirt and pulling it back on.

Jungkook dressed himself, and then huffed. "We should get going. The coach might realise we didn't really take a lap."

"He might think you did with how you're gonna limp onto the field-"

"You're gonna be the one limping after I beat you up!!" Jungkook snapped, and then they walked out of the shed.

They walked down the side of the building and took a shortcut through two dorm buildings to get to the field to make it look like they ran a lap.

"We smell disgusting." Jungkook commented, and V scoffed.

"You smell disgusting. I smell like man."

"Oh my god really?? It's almost like you are one and should be smelling like one-" Jungkook said sarcastically, and V was about to slap Jungkook's ass, but Jungkook grabbed his hand.

"Touch my butt one more time and I'll karate chop you to the moon and back-"

V instead grabbed him close and then picked up, making Jungkook squeal in confusion as he got thrown over V's shoulder. "V! What the fuck let me go!!"

V smacked his ass a couple of times as he walked towards the field, hearing Jungkook whine. "You smell like ass!"

"Yeah, your ass." V smirked, and Jungkook smacked his ass from how he was upside down on V's shoulder. "You're such an- ugh- egg!" Jungkook snapped.

Jungkook began giggling at what he said, and didn't even realise V was on the field now, and finally got put down on the ground, and wobbled a bit. Jungkook looked at V's offended face. "I know you did not just call me an egg."

Jungkook started giggling harder, and at seeing the way Jungkook was laughing, V started laughing a little too- and before they knew it- they were both laughing their ass off, practically rolling on the floor with how hard they were laughing.

"Woah, what happened?" Jimin said, walking up to them.

"Must've been some lap. They hated each other going in, but now they're besties." Jin commented, and Jungkook laughed.

"I won't be besties with someone who smells like egg," Jungkook said between laughs, and V started wheezing, falling onto the floor, clutching his stomach.

The boys stood around them in confusion. "Huh. If we knew it was that easy to make them stop fighting we would've made them go run earlier," Namjoon mumbled.

"Easy? N-no- Jungkook makes things soo hard," V said, and Jungkook literally banged into the fence with how hard he started laughing, his stomach hurting.

"Seriously, what the fuck happened during that lap?"

https://jeontaeh.tumblr.com/post/647263445399601153/nine

[thezol]

lord almighty, the one with bad puns ● sheith.

Series of: Not quite a drabble, not quite a fic.

Triggers: None.

Warnings: Really bad puns from everyone’s golden boy. There are cameos of Roy Focker and Claudia LaSalle, both beloved characters from the anime and manga Macross, here is the reason why.

A/N: Written just for fun, nothing else here to say.

*Kolivan’s booming voice echoed in the room* “The only way this is possible is if Galra blood runs through your veins.”

Shiro’s silver eyes widened in realization as a series of specific moments with Keith passed through his mind.

i.

'Cause your kisses lift me higher Like a sweet song of a choir And you light my morning sky With burning love

“Keith… uhh” He knew he was being rude, but he couldn’t stop staring –or fathom a full sentence or a coherent thought for that matter- he was in a state of total confusion. They were waiting for their Big Belly Burger meal, at his favorite booth near the bar, at the moment he could barely hear the large group of customers –mostly Garrison attendants- ordering drinks, all his attention was focused on his raven haired companion date“...Wha—what are you doing?” He didn’t hide very well his nervousness.  

The sound of the thick substance gurgling triggered goosebumps all over his skin.

Shiro saw how Keith removed the thin straw from his mouth and the most accurate manifestation of doe-eyes he had ever had the pleasure of staring at in his twenty two years of existence stared back at him.

“I’m drinking…?” The question mark was almost explicit by the way the younger fighter pilot tilted his head.

“ Yeah, um, I see, but –uh…” He was feeling the sudden urge to rub his sweaty palms on the knees of his jeans; Keith’s eyebrows were starting to form a tiny frown. “… you are drinking *mayonnaise*” “with a straw, as if it is a fucking Fanta” His mind supplied but he forced his lips to remain closed, by biting his inner cheek, hard.

“I know.” The little shrug ended the conversation for Keith, who just reassumed his task, paying no mind to the profuse sweating emanating from his frightened companion.

Shiro’s eyes were the size of plates as he turned pale, completely dismayed horrified. “At least he looks happy”. He couldn’t stop grimacing when the gurgling turned louder and Keith hummed happily –almost giddy- in satisfaction.

“Ahh.” Satisfied, Keith opened his eyes before he blinked rapidly in surprise at finding near his face…

“Ketchup?” Shiro ended up offering with a sheepish smile.    

ii.

“I can hear you brooding.” The raspy drowsy mumble made him smile.

“I’m not.” Without an operational wormhole generator and more than a few broken Teludav lenses, the castle is nothing but a stranded nightmare with no cover whatsoever in the vastness of space, he can’t help but feel a little anxious about sitting ducks to Zarkon… again.  

“Can’t really blame me for worrying about the photochemical damage in our internal organs after the healthy dose of laser radiation we received today.” Puffs of air materialized with each word, they all went to bed exhausted, including Coran, who didn’t have the time will or energy to adjust the temperature scans of the thermostat… or even activate the lights of their rooms for that matter. At the moment the two of them were in his room, with their covers and closeness and touches as only protection against the inhuman temperatures. The events of today and the irrefutable irony of the hysterical cosmic joke that was their lives left them as nothing but a pair of almost-too-literal-deadweights in his freezing bed.  

“Mmm… my fatalistic nerd.” Keith muttered weakly more asleep than awake, his small head nestled on his lap.

Still, the accomplishment of another survived day, with Keith at his side, it was enough.

More than enough.

Enough to hurt.

“Lance even prophesied we’ll all have Presbyopia before we are 30.”

“I remember hearing that.”  

“Still can’t see?” Shiro half-whispered, not quite able to resist brushing his fingers through Keith’s humid hair, if he dared to draw closer his nose to the ebony threads he would smell a frail track of smoke.

Today almost all die scorched like grilled chicken… Pidge’s blatant euphemism, not his.

“Just like—” a tired groan, words low and barely coherent- “…blurry clouds of smoke?... really dark ones.” Of all of them, Keith still presented the aftereffects, temporary blindness. After seeing how the enigmatic purple pigmentation of the red paladin eyes turned gold, Coran and Allura hurriedly promised they’ll turn operational the cryo-pods first thing tomorrow.

“Don’t worry baby, tomo—”

Like always, he is interrupted by the snort of amusement Keith makes at hearing the nickname.

And he dies a bit inside.

He sighs hopelessly. “I’m glad my love for you keeps being nothing but a big fat joke to you.” He deadpans in indignation while he nuzzles his way through the soft strands that belong to the love of his life and settles his lips against the delicate eyelashes he can’t stop kissing. “My soulless munchkin, nothing endears you.”

The breathless raspy chuckles Keith gives melt his insides and leave him boneless.  “You are ridiculous." within each exhalation travels a caress that warms the thin skin covering his hipbones.

“Mm—hmm.” He affirms while he situates himself more comfortably against the wall, reassuming his readings from the Altean tablet.

He patiently waits for any acknowledgement that Keith is falling asleep, that somehow his presence is soothing him, but as time passes, the younger pilot curls unconsciously closer to his only source of warmth, his embrace vehement and natural, cold hands came up to wrap around Shiro’s leg, his fingers curling into the fabric of Shiro’s pants. His faint breathing a little too fast and his grip a little too tight.    

“Why is he still presenting the aftereffects of the lasers? And why his eyes a—are gold?”

“Shiro, you must remember that this ship wasn’t exactly designed accounting the physiognomy of your species, we don’t know for sure the effects our engineering could have on any of your kind.”

“Maybe what is happening to number four has to do specifically with humans with that type of irises? What are the characteristics of humans with violet eyes?”

“I—I don’t know, until I met him… I thought people with violet eyes were a myth.”

“A myth? Oh young boy, your civilization it’s so primitive and weird.”

iii.

“… you reading?”

The muffled sounds around him turned sharper the moment he recognized the raspy voice, like on autopilot, all his senses focused their attention on the person sitting in front of him –pupils dilated, breath ricocheted, heartbeat propelled- dum, ba- dum, dum, dum. As if the raven haired cadet was an ignition switch that gets you off the launching pad, his whole body lit up, his entire form reacting to the same presence all at once, capillaries in his skin stretched and the abrasive heat left him jittery and vulnerable and alive.  

“Yeah?” His silver eyes never separated from the nonchalant lithe fluidity that was almost sewed to the lean body, it seemed that Keith couldn’t find something in his duffel bag.

“I asked about what you are reading.” Keith reiterated vaguely, too engrossed rummaging for his tablet in the war zone he called bag.

Feign casualness Shiro commented, “I’m reading an article about anti-gravity” he couldn’t stop the giant grin stretching his lips, “Aaand just as Commander Holt told me… it’s impossible to put down!”  

The lounge went cryptically silent. The air in the room suddenly heavy and the peace completely crumbled.

“Oh my.” “He’s gotten so bad.” “Spare us the jokes, Shiro.”

“Sorry, I Apollo—gize.” He ended up taunting.

The sound of more than a few chairs scraping against the floor could be still distinguished as the room was suddenly filled with a chorus of lamenting groans.

“I’m outta here.” “Can’t wait for your lame ass puns being in the border of the solar system!”

Heh, no appreciation for good mood in this world.

Smiling to himself Shiro redirects his attention at his companion.

Finding Keith –tiny nose scrunched up- heavily concentrated on his… hand?

“…Keith?”

“Is something wrong with your hand?”

“My hand?... N—no why?”

“Then why can’t you put the tablet down?”

“Why I can’t pu—…oh”

Oh, indeed.

iv.

“Floor L5 – Recognized Lieutenant Claudia LaSalle - Access Granted.” The artificial voice saluted them as they walked alongside onto the empty longue.  

“As I’ve been telling you Shiro, each satellite will also contain an ultra-stable laser; optical systems aboard the satellites will lock the two lasers to a single frequency…” Her words were supplemented by hand gestures that became more frantic as Claudia got more and more engrossed into her explanation.

“So essentially, it’s like creating a single laser operating at a single frequency.” He added, placing their tupperwares on a pristine table.

“Exactly!” She clasped her hands with enthusiasm, warm eyes sparkling, “when a gravitational wave propagates through the solar system it will cause a motion between the satellites, bringing them closer together, then farther apart, and then closer together again!” The second lieutenant sat gracefully and shared with him a complicit smile as he pulled out a chair so she could sit down first.

“Which will cause a Doppler shift of the laser light as it travels between the spacecraft.” Shiro nodded to himself, starting to immerse in the topic as well.

Taking advantage of the solitude of the place and desperate to stop feeling how the irking material adhered to his skin, he casually removed his uniform jacket, it was late in the afternoon, nobody was at the time hanging around that floor, so there was no real risk of exposure to an Iveson-mania encounter, he could feel the uncomfortable beads of sweat sliding down his neck and spine, conglomerating and sticking the cotton fabric of his shirt to his shoulder blades, consequence of enduring more than 12 hours covered in polyester in an infrastructure with no enough refrigeration power to be situated in the middle of the dessert.

“Yes! I tell you Shiro, if the board approves the installation of optical lattice atomic clocks on board of the spacecraft, we could detect gravitational waves!”  Her gaze turned dazed, relaxed and calm. “... Can you imagine?” It weren’t just her hazel eyes –the drop of her shoulders, the hood of her eyelids- her mind and soul were surely wrapped up picturing a network of such clocks in space.  

“It certainly sounds pretty awesome.” It really was, Shiro knew her theory would allow physicists to perform new tests of fundamental laws of nature and searches for the unknown, it was groundbreaking. So, with all the pride and conviction he could muster for his friend, he couldn’t stop assuring her. “And if anyone can do it, it’s you Claudia.” He meant every word, Claudia was incredibly talented and he had nothing but massive proportions of faith for her.

“I’m not so sure about that,” She diverted her eyes, her perfectly manicured nails unconsciously scratching her head –thinking hard and trying to clear a complex puzzle- messing with the small curls of her short afro. “I still consider that it’s highly unlikely the Garrison would want to go with a completely new technology at this stage… I was thinking in asking your friend, the son of Commander Holt?… Umm.” She squinted her eyes with uncertainty, trying to recall the name.

While leaning forward to reach for his sport bottle, a faint metallic sound startled him. “…Matt?” He tucks his dog tags inside his shirt. Shiro pulls the top of the bottle, wasting no time to satiate his thirst for his green thickie, the rich flavor of Kiwi and Kale combining with the sweetness of milk... his smoothie recipe was a religious experience.  

“Yes, Matt Holt, I was thinking in asking for his help to validate some results, I’ve heard he is the best at configuring big data based devices.”

“I’ll ask him, but knowing Matt, he’ll never pass an opportunity to work with you.” He commented as offhandedly as he could –which was a debatable deplorable performance- and at seeing from the corner of his eye how Claudia’s dark skin heated up, Shiro knew he may have kind of slightly fucked up… just a little. Oh well, it’s not like from just one comment Matt’s worrisome crush will be revealed.

“You know she is with somebody…”

“Save that sickening kindheartedness of yours for someone who needs it, and let me stop your stuck-in-the-22th-century primitive mind, I don’t have a crush on officer LaSalle, I—”

“-B—but you just said so!“

“Shh! I have a nerd crush on that woman’s brain. I feel how my neurons fire up, how my synapses rewires, my whole mind floors each time I re-watch her lecture on the nonequilibrium Green’s function approach to the photoionization process in atoms.”  

“… nerd crush? Are you calling her a nerd?”

“Look at me Shirogane, I AM THE NERD!”

Claudia’s exasperated sigh brought him out of Matt’s antics.

“I have a guest lecture in 15 minutes.” With an impatient double click on the screen of her smartwatch, holographic numbers the size of a watermelon materialized in the middle of the table. The artificial blue light not only emphasized the tardiness, but also her frown. “And I’m starving.” Claudia said as if she was condemning her body.

Shiro couldn’t avoid gazing down and deflate at his innocent Tupperware with his still untouched chicken wrap.

“Roy promised me he would be done by now.” Remorseful for believing again the words said by the pilot in question, she crossed her arms over her chest in aggravation. Hazel eyes narrowed like a proverbial sign of pain waiting for the apparition of the entity responsible for their still empty stomachs.

Aha, and he didn’t sign up for this.

As the omnipresent third law of Newton says, to every action there is always opposed an equal reaction, by being exposed to the impossible-to-ignore presence of Roy Focker for almost more than half a decade -including the fortuitous cohabitation of a room no larger than 7ft x12ft for three uninterrupted years- Shiro has recollected an amount of patience that exceeds Fort Knox gold reserves. Being joined-by-the-hip-since putting a foot in the Garrison to that obnoxious son of a bitch has surely made him a patient human.  

Good fucking riddance.

His stomach morosely agrees.

“… For how long Iverson punished him?” He cut off, darting his eyes for the first time to the wall of glass none of them had dared to look through.  

Below them it was situated the gym where freshmen have been pleasantly reunited to endure a self-defense course imparted by no other than Roy Focker, Iverson’s personal cause of hair loss and bane of existence.

“He didn’t specify,” Claudia commented scrutinizing her cuticles, since long-ago desensitized of Roy’s antics. “But between you and me, this time Roy did seriously crossed the line.”

If Claudia thinks that imparting a lecture with a hangover was crossing a line, Shiro wasn’t going to be the one telling her of the time her boyfriend flew the simulator hammered -intoxicated beyond inebriation, honest-to-god shitfacing on the control panel- Besides, that time Roy surpassed a record, shooting down more than five planes.  

“How dare that brute shit pump say that my behavior is unacceptable?!”

“I can't for the life of my grandfather think why not, you were drunk-flying… and insulted his mom.”

“Get off your high horse Shirogane, first! It was just a simulator, and second! I nailed FIVE PLANES!”

“You just said to Iverson and I quote *Fuck off and go back to the Cyclops whore who gave birth to you.*”

“That filth should worship the floor I walk on… and yours too, you are great too, so great.”

“I appreciate the sentiment buddy, but from now on, check with me before you talk.”

“I’m still not sure to whom the punishment really is, to Roy or the poor new cadets.” Claudia inquired nonchalantly.

The following silence dwarfed their concerns the more they entertained the notion.          

“Maybe we should check?” Shiro shrugged his shoulders, palms facing the ceiling, subconsciously imploring to the god of mercy an uneventful afternoon.

“Good idea.”  

Both of them stepped closer to the glass wall with slow caution and dread -not really wanting but having to- peering down to come across Garrison’s first class training facilities, there was indeed a bunch of freshmen gathered around the boxing ring and on top of the platform was the 7’-1” individual called Roy Focker, his height and that hair made him stand out like the big yellow bird thingy from Sesame Street.          

With a sigh that exhaled a sentiment that goes further than dread, Claudia summoned the audio.

“So me, and you and you too, I guess? And everyone! We’re all aware of the importance of healthy eating and adequate exercise and all that crap professor Montgomery wastes ninety minutes of our lives to tell us in that introductory conference, ninety minutes that won’t ever come back, may I add.” A deep confident chuckle boomed through the speakers, even from the distance, Shiro could see how his friend’s blond head shook in exaggerated mock-annoyance.

“Oh, Focker.”

Shiro only nods in agreement with his colleague, running his fingers through his hair, slicking it back with the persistent beads of sweat.

“So to save us all the additional suffering, I will therefore cut the chase, only to say that I’m not addressing this class as self-defense but as self-preservation,” Shiro followed with his eyes how the blond officer kept a languid walk from one corner to the other, trying to make eye contact with as many young faces as possible, cracking a jovial smile here and there. “Up there or wherever, if you are going to be assigned into our atmosphere or fucking space, you gotta have your eyes wide open and your fingers prepared on the trigger! Let me be clear, there is no place for nonsense! You gotta be fast, you gotta be strong and you gotta be smart.”

Leadership 101 from Lieutenant Roy Focker.

“So,…” -Absently he readjust the wireless microphone closer to his lips- “any questions?”  Roy drawls, crossing his arms over his chest.

A cadet with long green hair raised her hand. “Eh… sir?”

The pilot raises his eyebrows. “Yes?”

“What is your name?”

Oh no.

Please don’t.

The wolfish grin was as sharp as a butcher’s knife. “Lieutenant Focker, young lady.”

Aaand he did it.

The silence was sepulchral.

Until –of course- a lanky brunet couldn’t hold his snort any longer and like a collective plague, most of the crowd erupted too.  

"All right, all right." Roy accepts the dig good-naturedly, as if they're all very good friends and this is a very old joke between them.

“Why Iverson does this?” Claudia whispered in consternation.

“… There must be some inner joke somewhere that neither of us understands yet.” He commented while leaning his shoulder against the glass –arms crossed and attention existing solely by morbid curiosity-.

“So let’s start!” Without breaking eye contact with the crowd, Roy tosses his bomber jacket, effortlessly landing it on the nearest post, earning a series of awed looks from his audience. “Any volunteer?” Most of the girls in the crowd considered it endearing –the tousled gold mane, the gleeful spark behind the crystalline ocean colored eyes- how the officer rubbed his hands in glad anticipation, but that boy-charm show didn’t work with Claudia or him, who truly knew the meaning behind the charade. “No one?” It was the eagerness of a predator with a tasty meal about to be served.

“What about… you!” And just like Moses stretched his hand over the Red Sea and by the grace of God a path was opened through the water, the cadets scattered like a halloween patterned parade, enough to expose a tunnel so the chosen victim could cross to the promised land- “Angry little thing over there! Front and center, come into the eye of the storm.” -just like the Israelites.

“He is so predictable.” Despite being Roy’s girlfriend for over two years, it sounds like Claudia still reaches new levels of disbelief.

“Always the eccentric.” He concedes with a lopsided smile.

“He’s an ass.”

Shiro’s silver eyes widened startled at hearing the uncharacteristic spite behind the reproach. He turned his head slightly to the side, to see how her slim figure retreated, the click-clack of her heels echoing down the longue. He was going to follow her and finally eat his wrap, but the commotion below them recaptured his attention.

It seems that angry-little-thing was some crimson hooded cadet that has been keeping his distance from the crowd, from a level above, all Shiro could see was a bloody spot in motion, he couldn’t discern if the indifference transpired by the cadet’s posture was deliberate or not –his intuition told him it was- but he’ll give the kid some credit, he remained imperturbable as he leisurely walked to the wooden stairs, ignoring the whispering crowd and the dubious looks like a pro, always staring ahead, no hesitation, with his hands hidden inside the windrunner pockets, features out of sight.

He is used to the attention.

Unwanted attention.

You only obtain that defiant elusive ease after being the center of attention your whole life.

After struggling with it until you learn how to survive and don’t let it them affect you.  

Again, his intuition whispered at him that it wasn’t a matter of choice.

Survival mechanism.

With an out of character impatience, Shiro stretched out his neck trying to look better, as if the motion could accelerate the kid’s movements, who was currently kicking off his shoes. Silver moonstones narrowed, if Shiro squinted hard enough, he distinguishes what he believes are a pair of customized Jordan basketball Nikes, also scarlet.    

“Claudia, can y—?”

“Already ahead of you.”

With irrational desperation, he darted his gaze to his left, finding Claudia with a remote control on her hand, pointing at the ceiling hidden screen, the monstrosity of seventy inches was still dropping down.  

Come on.

Barefoot and with the red windrunner laying forgotten on the floor, the cadet took the final steps to enter the ring, where Roy has been waiting for him –sarcastic wave and everything-, holding the ropes so he could pass.

The static sound coming from the television caught Shiro’s attention, and after whipping his neck at light speed he was finally finally finally able to see.

The first time ace pilot Takashi Shirogane –galaxy garrison royalty, triumph embedded veins, sun in human limbs- gets to see Keith Kogane, it’s in beautiful high definition.  

With a touch on the screen –how he got so close? when he moved?- the camera feed zoomed at his will.

Long and lithe lethal, the cadet entered the ring with cat-grace and a sinuous silhouette created by the perfect arch of his spinal column, the sight made something catch behind Shiro’s teeth -hot ashes, smoke, flaming scotch- he’ll choke on his own heartbeat.

“Identify yourself, cadet.”

“Keith.”

No salute, no “Sir”, not even a last name.

Discipline issues.

Without the windrunner jacket, the cadet –Keith, the name is Keith- looked exposed, black running tights, loose Garrison black tank top, tousled raven mane, creamy fair skin; the monochromatic outfit adhered to the runner physique like liquid asphalt on an unblemished surface. And Shiro absorbed it all, the tension on the junctions, the rapid reddening of pale-skin-covered shoulder blades, the strain on shoulders and neck, the dig of fingernails into bright red little palms –and God, everything flushes so easy and so pretty- the too controlled breath, Shiro can almost picture the mantra Calm down, can almost hear the cadet telling himself. Calm down. This isn't new.

The mask wasn’t perfect.  

The indifference wasn’t a survival mechanism per se, it was a control barrier.  

This one wasn’t going to quit easy.

Roy quirked an eyebrow in amusement -the back of his knuckles rubbing against the rough stubble at his jaw- oceanic green eyes pondered down the little menace, critically assessing, when his gaze returned to the cadet’s face he let his eyes linger as a languid smile stretches his lips, no trace of annoyance, no insult taken, just pleasure at the entertainment ahead.  

To others, Roy will appear as someone unpredictable, a hot-headed pilot who didn’t think ahead, but Shiro knew him, he knew the extent of his abilities, his strengths and his tactics, and he knew what Roy was doing. He picked up a troublemaker archetype and was planning on making an example with it. Usually Shiro would approve, he’s used the same approach before, but-  

Roy is twenty three and twice Keith’s size.

“So, kids!” The blond officer boomed to the expectant crowd –screaming and certainly spitting at Keith’s face, the angle didn’t permit Shiro to see more than a narrow graced nose and untamed bangs, but he catches how the cadet bit his bottom lip, as if physical pain refrained him- “Don’t be nervous, this is just our first lesson, you’re allowed to commit mistakes and learn from them, as I said before, my course it’s about self-preservation, and in real life, while facing danger in war or the streets, we won’t be carrying with us boxing gloves or anything similar, therefore, we won’t be using them now.” Shiro sees Roy’s hand gestures as he walks again from corner to corner –palms always up- connoting feign surrender, placation, friendliness. “And don’t be afraid, Keith” The saccharine chuckle crumbled the act. “I won’t harm you.” Much.

While popping his neck, Roy’s long legs ate up the space between them quickly, until he was almost hovering over the cadet’s surly aura.

“So, before we begin, any question? Any health condition, any prob—.”

“No problems.” That voice was cut glass, raspy and it was raising a prickle on the back of Shiro’s neck.

“I’m sensing a very expensive lawsuit.”

“Aha.” Shiro affirms, his noncommittal noise paying no mind to Claudia’s I’m-so-done drawl.

“Let me change the—“

“Woa, wha—” Shiro will deny it until the end of times, but an incredibly embarrassing whine –he’s got a puppy in his belly kind of whine- crawled from the bottom of his being, it was so startling that he couldn’t control it. He wasn’t sure if he was more distressed by the noise or the lost signal.

“Relax Shiro, I’m just looking for a better angle, you’ll be staring at temperament issues in no time.”

Those silver moonstones blinked down at her, obviously confused. Claudia could tell the exact moment his thoughts caught up because he started spluttering and looking anywhere but her face.

“What—no! Why would you, I mean I—”

“Shirogane, you are ogling him.” She tried to keep her expression neutral but damn, Shiro was adorable.

“I—I—…no!”

Claudia only scoffed derisively at his indignation and continued searching for another camera feed channel, settling at one showing a different angle, one with full view of Keith’s face.

All he’s been allowed to see so far have been fast glimpses and an elegant profile framed by ebony strands, but it was enough, Shiro knew the guy was attractive, but once his eyes settled on the screen-,

It hasn’t been enough at all.

Youthful symmetrical –angelic quality- features that blend gracefully into a delicate bone structure, high cheekbones, brows, forehead, small, softly featured nose, it has a refined Asian appeal, eyes that defy categorizing –and goddamn, they are violet, scientists have spent obscene amounts of money, for centuries, trying to replicate that color and they’ve never been even close- and-

-that face it’s confidence and defiance perfectly balanced and it probably opens just about any door that Keith wants, doesn't it.

“Pretty.” Claudia comments.  

As if the seventy inches image wasn’t self-explanatory enough.

“You ever boxed before?” Roy inquired while his head tilted back slightly to show that brilliant self-assured white smile.

“Yes.” The monotone voice remained unfazed the exact same moment Roy’s joviality sunk.

“What, like, TRX, CrossFit? ‘Cause that won’t work for you here.” Shiro knew that Roy was probably trying to coax the cadet to open up more, but honestly, it was only making everything worse.

Keith’s frail façade of indifference finally cracks and shows brief annoyance at the statement.

Don’t, be patient, wait.

Your opponent is stronger and more experienced than you, you have to think.

Patience yields focus.

“KICK THAT MULLET’S ASS!”

The cheer not only startled Shiro, but it distracted Keith, who turned his neck by reflex, trying to look for the impatient brunet who had screamed.

And Roy didn’t waste the opening.

“Rule number one, cadet. Never take your eyes off your opponent.”

Keith!

Precise and unforgiving, Roy threw a jab at Keith’s jaw, but it never made contact, with unprecedented speed and keen reflexes, the raven haired cadet rotated his body, using the heels to pivot counter-clockwise –is left-handed?-, allowing Roy’s punch to miss into the space milliseconds ago Keith just occupied, wasting no time, the cadet counter attacked with a jab of his own.  

Roy easily dodge it by taking a step back, the range of Keith’s arm was dwarfed by Roy’s legs.

You’ll never win like that.

His mind was rapidly assessing the fighters’ characteristics, Shiro couldn’t find a scenario were the cadet ended victorious.

There were more than two feet of difference between them.  

Keith was out of his leag-

While taking the step back, Keith distracted Roy with a lead sidekick that landed on the blonde’s stomach, completely caught off guard; Roy instinctively lowers his hands down. At that moment Keith looked up trough long eyelashes and stepped down, body and mind in complete sync with his speed, the raven haired threw a spinning back fist, power coming from the spin.

What the-

Silver eyes stared stupefied the motion, how the back of the pale and tiny fist connected with Roy’s right ear.

With no hesitation mercy and without taking any time to regain his breathing, Keith pivots again, and rotates his body, this time clockwise –ambidextrous then- and like a wrecking ball at the end of a demolition crane, connects his heel with Roy’s solar plexus.

Roy’s gasp intensified the perception of the damage caused, Shiro knew, he knew that amount of pain comes from the spin, from the flawless execution in conjunction with the snap of the knee.

He thinks he hears Roy mutter a curse as he stumbles, the blond tries to stand prepared and block as he sees how Keith pivots again, aiming for his mid-section again, but this time, after the little menace spins, his left temple its hit with another heel, a high kick.

The momentum of the spin, the impeccable alignment of heel, ankle and lower leg channeled a force that if it wasn’t by mere power of will –stubbornness-, Roy would have fallen on his knees.

“Oh my, God! Roy!”

Shiro didn’t hear Claudia’s scream.

His ears don’t hear. His eyes don’t close, neither does his mouth. -Holy shit- He swears, somewhat befuddled, he must have flatlined, but then he finds on the screen those violet eyes and for a moment, they are bright in a liquid, blazing chaotic way that’s so unlike any gemstone in the world, and then he understood the resemblance… -fierceness, a spark, life force- Fire, fire doesn’t have a color, it has a spectrum, and it looks magnificent in violet.  

With a grunt more than a curse, “Mother Focker.” –and aren’t those nice last words before death- Roy threw another punch, a jab thrown while he grounded his body, projecting his force downwards.

Too slow.

Shiro remained completely dumfounded, utterly surprised to the extent that he is unable to keep a rein on his mind. He’s witnessing, close up, effortlessness and lightness combined with speed, determination and precision.

A lion among men.

Fearless, Keith’s knees kick up before he throws his legs on either side of Roy’s body, one high in the torso, the other just in the crease of the knees, providing the raven haired cadet enough leverage on either side of the lieutenant’s body. The two hundred and sixty pounds of muscle mass that is Roy Focker, were disregarded like a piece of paper between two blades of a scissor. Only, instead of slicing paper, Keith was using a combination of potential and kinetic energy to cut through Roy’s center of gravity.

Like a child tossing down a rag doll.

A rag doll of seven feet height and weights two hundred and sixty pounds.

From where comes that goddamned force, it doesn’t make any sense.

v.

For Takashi Shirogane, there are only two types of people in this world, the ones who pour the cereal first and then there is-, no, correction, there is only one type of people in the world, ‘cause those who pour the milk first in the bowl aren’t humans are sickos and shouldn’t be trusted.

He’s never experienced this kind of betrayal in his life.

“What the hell are y—I mean what are you—”

“Hmm?” A bit perplexed by Shiro’s tone, Keith stares up through his eyelashes with curiosity, still pouring the Honey Nut Cheerios into the bowl with milk, as if it has been poured previously.  

As if he’d poured the milk first.

He. poured. the. milk. fisrt!

“… Shiro?” Was all the younger fighter pilot said, but what he truly meant was “Why are you looking at me like your flesh it’s gonna melt off your face?”

“Why you poured the milk first?” He whispered, he couldn’t raise his voice, all his air has been knocked out of his system.

Maybe it was all a misunderstanding, maybe it’s not what it looks like, right? Maybe it was a onetime thing. Maybe Keith wasn’t conscious of what he was doing.

It wasn't denial as long as there was still hope.

“What?” In other circumstances, Shiro would be endeared, the tilt of the head, the big almond eyes, the lazy morning look with the messy topknot, like he's got no goddamn idea how he looks like that, all relaxed lean lines and soft features, in other circumstances. At the moment, the atrocious crime overwhelmed his partner’s beauty.

“Baby, you put the cereal first, it's just against the laws of nature to do it any other way, the milk its liquid, it will find its way into the empty spaces via capillary action, you won’t want soggy cereal; adding the milk last lessens the time the cereal is in contact with it, thus preserving the crunchiness longer. It is just common sense that the cereal element should exist in the bowl first. Don’t you— Keith?—Where—Keith?!”

“It’s too early for your nonsense, Takashi!”

You look like an angel

Walk like an angel

Talk like an angel

But I got wise

You're the devil in disguise

Oh, yes, you are

The devil in disguise

As the luminescent lavender glow died down, while all masked Galrans were focusing their attention on the red paladin of Voltron and the implications of what they’ve just witnessed.

With the tiniest voice muttered in his life, with silver eyes emptily staring at his shoes.

Shiro mumbled. “Oh.”

end.

A/N: alternative title #1: Takashi, honey, all the signs were there.

        alternative title #2: How many shieth drabbles I can write while listening Presley's songs.

[childhood-au]

Phil pushed his black-rimed glasses back on his nose while looking at himself in the mirror, crooked smile big despite both front teeth missing. He had lost one of them this morning and the other had been gone for about a month now. He recalled when his teacher, Mrs. Clark, had told him to put his teeth under his pillow so the Tooth Fairy’d visit him. Soft Mrs. Clark who was kind and accepting and warm; she always encouraged his imagination and motivated him to write his ideas down. He was glad he’d get to see her again Monday and tell her all about his week-end and how his mean brother had stolen his favourite lion stuffie yesterday and how his father had bought him a new wild animal encyclopedia as a reward for his good grades and how he finally got to spend time with Dan.

His tiny hands were slightly shaking equally from the single glass of ribena his mother had allowed him to have and the anticipation of seeing his little friend again. He really liked Dan. Dan liked colouring books and video games and playing in the leaves when they fell on the ground. Dan liked to jump in puddles of water and dogs and to be read stories and he always, always seemed interested in what Phil had to say. A small smile crept on his lips again without being able to stop it and he felt his heart flutter. Dan was cute, too. And he smelled nice. And his cheeks were soft. He really liked Dan.

He pulled on his dinosaur-printed button-up shirt to steady his fingers a little before grabbing his sticker-covered Game Boy device and placing it safely in his cargo shorts’ right pocket. There was this really, really cool Pokémon he had catch on his way to school Wednesday and he wanted to show Dan because he knew he’d be impressed. He smiled again.

“Philly, my love, would you come downstairs now? We’re going in five minutes!” he heard his mother say from the kitchen. 

He grabbed Lion in his arms, just in case Dan was tired and wanted to take a nap during the afternoon, before running down the stairs, mismatched socks slippery against the hardwood, his heartbeats fast. Martyn was already at the door, black headset covering his ears and music blasting from his walkman, looking utterly cool yet utterly bored. And mean. He was two years his eldest and never missed a chance to remind him. Phil simply rolled his eyes at the scene while their father took his keys from their hook.

“Ready, little guy?” the man said, ruffling his hair affectionately. His voice was low and kind and Phil wondered if he’d sound like him when he’d be all grown up. He nodded in agreement and turned his back to Martyn, still ignoring his big brother from when he’d hide Lion the day before. “Catherine, we’re ready to go.”

His mother emerged from the kitchen, apple crumble safely stored in a large Tupperware. “I am ready, I am ready,” she said, permanent smile present in her voice as she made her way to the entrance where they all stood, her heels clapping motherly on the floor.

He couldn’t wait to see Dan.