#yes i do think it’s incredibly weird that ao3 leaves up some of the content it does

[harveyonmain]

listen i am by no means uncritical of ao3 but as someone who works in nonprofits most of the critique on ao3 comes from people who have no idea how nonprofits work

[raven-the-claw]

A Complete Guide To Chaotic Academia

bc its my fav aesthetic and there is not enough content about it

Outfits

most people say that chaotic academia is just dark academia but a little bit more messy, and, well, chaotic. the truth is, chaotic academia is A LOT more messy than dark academia. you can still use dark academia as kind of a "base", but you are going to replace your blazers with flannels, your turtlenecks with tshirts. as for pants, you can go with litteraly anything: cigarette pants, tailored trousers, ripped-up jeans or normal black leggings. i personally really ike ripped up overalls bc they give that "i dont really give a damn, im so misunderstood, my parents didnt love me, im a crazy lonely introverted teenage child" vibe...idk. whatever you wear, make sure you feel comfortable in it! even tho in chaotic academia there are almost no rules at all, here are some things that might help you!

colours: any earthy tones are fine, brown, caramel, dark green, dark red, white, etc etc

fictional characters that might inspire you:

-remus lupin

- any dpc character

- jess mariano

- sydney novak

accesories: flannels (a personal fav + they make even the most boring fit look better), cardigans, converse (bonus points if you draw/write on them or if you have them laced in a weird way), bracelets or necklaces that mean something to you, harry potter back packs, tote bags...

hairstyles: whatever you want, just make sure your hair is ALWAYS messy, looking like you just fucking woke up

Activities and Traits

ok now we're getting to the actually important part bc (repeat after me): chaotic academia is not about how you look, its about how you live and how you act. so here r some thing that might help:

- annotating books with the most unhinged random thoughts

- learning poetry or speeches word for word but not remembering most of the things for school

- studying in the (school) library and being besties with the librarian (optional)

- leaving notes (on trees, mailboxes or library books) for strangers to find

- "studying while listening to classical music" and then instead of studying you end up agressivly mouthing your favorite song

- im sure yall already heard this one, but yes, swearing and slag while discussing deep academic topics is incredibly important

- speaking of important topics: posting something important on social media knowing no one will read it

- doodles on your hands 24/7 (NO SUSAN, I DONT GIVE A DAMN THAT ITS BAD FOR MY SKIN)

- sarcasm. a lot.

- random thoughts

- random quotes

- knowing a ton of conspiracy theories that you dont even beileve in by heart

- listening to all different types of podcasts

- one day reading the classics, the next ya fantasy and day after that ao3 smut

- multifandom, multishipper

- tea/coffee addiction

- adding b.c. to todays date when writing it in school

- random thoughts and the weirdest annotations in your school notebooks, especially the classes that you find boring

- "going to the bathroom" and then spending half of your math class drawing/reading/smoking/crying/thinking/whatever the fuck you wanna do there bc ur tired of everything

- stealing random stuff from stores (tho it is not encouraged blah blah blah)

- watching gilmore girls every fall

- telling people ur favorite colour is green even tho it isnt just to let them know that ur gay

- reading in class, on breaks, at home, parks, meetings, aethletic events, and generally all the fucking time

- doing (mostly) everything last minute

- bad at photography, but you enjoy it

- cold tea my beloved

- wearing one item every day: it can either be a necklace, a flannel, a bracelet, a badge, headphones, earrings etc etc

- extremely messy handwriting, always writing with black pen

- crying at least once a day, but only when ur alone, being super emotional but never showing it

- hobbies include reading, screaming in your pillow, learning unique languages that you will probably never use, rewatching dead poets society, harry potter, enola holmes, end of the fucking world and gilmore girls

- massive bookworm, reads all the time, always has a book with them

- skipping class, not that often tho

- 💫anger issues💫

- hyperactive and lazy at the same time

- uses big words but makes fun of other people when they do it

- writes (rebellious) book quotes everywhere, every single one of their notebooks had IF WE BURN, YOU BURN WITH US written in them lol

- random useless powerpoints

- analysing taylor swift's folklore and evermore instead of sheakspeare because its just better

- retired almost-emo, had a phase when they wore black and acted all mysterious but were never really emo i cant explain it

- likes mcr. this one speaks for itself.

- gay and sad. no explanation needed.

Books, Movies and Music

Books:

- Harry Potter by you know who (WE DONT SUPPORT HER THO)

- The Secret History by Donna Tartt

- Night School by CJ Daugherty (is that how u spell it lol)

- The Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo

- Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo

- Heartstopper by Alice Oseman

- Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen

- Emma by Jane Austen

- Hamlet by Do I Really Need To Say Who

- The Perks Of Being A Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky

- The Picture of Dorain Gray by Oscar Wilde

- Frankenstein by Marry Shelley

Movies/TV Shows

- end of the fucking world

- heartstopper

- harry potter

- enola holmes

- dead poets society

- gilmore girls

- httyd (no kidding lol)

im not really a film girlie so if yall have any recs please lmk

Music:

- Mother Mother

- Taylor Swift (obviously)

- Lana Del Slay

- Conan Gray

- Olivia Rodrigo

- My Chemical Romance

- Lovejoy

- Bowie

- Queen

- Radiohead

- Björk

- Those random Disney songs i know you scream to at 3am

also whoever sings the IMJUSTATEENAGEDIRTBAGBAABBYY song

here is my playlist if yall wanna listen to it

hope that helps lol

[uss-genderprise]

You should read AOSR because it's really good and also free

I can't stick to my usual titling scheme because this zine is genuinely good and I want you to read it.

AOS Renaissance (or AOSR for short) is a digital zine published earlier this week (8.3.2023) (there goes my plan to do these reviews chronologically) to celebrate the 14th anniversary of Star Trek (2009) and is free to download here. Some of the works are also available on AO3, and I'll link to those individually so you can leave nice comments, but I do recommend reading the zine as a whole. The art in it is stunning, and I personally really like that zines are collected and curated in a way that works online generally aren't.

Disclaimer: as usual, this review is entirely my opinion.

We Hold Each Other Tonight, Eyes Full of Constellations

by spidey_kirk

Jim thinks he and Spock are dating but taking it slow, but Spock is beating himself up pining for Jim, thinking he only wants to be friends. What a great premise, I love fics like these! My only gripe is a lack of breaks between time skips which made it a little confusing at times. 4/5

Whiteout

by Bradley Martin

A little weird to see a Christmas fic published in the middle of May but I'm not complaining because it is CUTE. Considering the usual contents on this blog you might be surprised to hear how much I love McKirk, since I tend to keep it on the DL, but I'm so so soft for them, and this fic perfectly encapsulates why. I love it. 5/5

The Way Their Fingers Touch

by remylebae

Leonard says he's over Jim, only to ask Spock out, find out Spock and Jim are together, and realise he never actually got over Jim in the first place. Where do I even start? I love this fic so much. The pining! The way they all care so much about each other! Great fun. 5/5

Forget-me-nots

by Maria

Spock's life flashes before his eyes and we get the shortest memory loss fic I have ever read. The visuals are beautifully described and very sweet. 4.5/5

Kiss Her You Fool

by captainkaseykirk

I think this might be the first Scotty/Uhura fic I've ever read, and I don't regret that at all. I love Jim and Scotty's friendship, I love how awkward Scotty is about his crush, I love how sweet he is about Uhura and I love their first kiss. Great introduction to the ship. 5/5

Cornflowers and Peach Blossoms

by USS-Genderprise

Disclaimer: I'm biased about this one, for obvious reasons (I wrote it). A hanahaki fic in the year of our lord 2023? (That's what everybody keeps asking me) Yes. It's also major character death, but personally I think it's one of my best works. Compared to the rest of the fics in this zine, it's incredibly depressing. I do like it, though.

A Brief History of Family and Domestic Life on Starships

by spocko

I don't usually like miscommunication in fics, but this one was fun. All the different character interactions were on point, and I do love seeing Spock with a cat. 5/5

Binary Stars

by asoulofstars

How do Kirk and McCoy fall in love? Everyone's favourite oh moment, one for each of them. Very cute. 4/5

Shine A Little Brighter

by KnightAniNaberrie

I love seeing Spock grow as a person, grow in his relationships. I also love some good Spock and McCoy banter, especially when it's clearly a sign of affection. Wonderful fic. 5/5

Unwritten Rules and Regulations Excerpt

by asoulofstars

Saavik in AOS? It's more likely than you think. She keeps a running list of all the things that should not be done on the Enterprise, and shares two of her points with us. Great fun, though clearly incomplete. 4.5/5

Restorations

by stanzas

Absolutely adorable. Everyone but Jim is good with children and I am here for it. 5/5

Jealousy is a Green Blooded Alien

by QUEERTASTIC

Spock? Jealous? No way! /s. I love a good jealous Spock fic. The descriptions of his emotions were great. A little disappointed by the ending, though. 4/5

Final thoughts

Honestly, I think this might be the best zine I have read to date. Every fic was a joy to read and each piece of art was stunning. I can honestly recommend each and every story in this zine, even if I do have my favourites. You should read it! It costs you nothing! Literally!

[desertfangs]

“honestly if DA hadn’t sent me an anon about one of them I was ready to pull it and call it a loss”

DON’T YOU DARE 🤧 but also imma cry that fic is so special and sexy and bittersweet and I can’t recommend it enough! You go in expecting smutty goodness (which you WILL find) and end up openly sobbing five paragraphs in. Seriously if you’re a bookverse Armand/Daniel fan and haven’t read this one, what have you even been doing with your life!? Mandatory Devil’s Minion reading imho 📖

This current trend of passively consuming media is slowly killing fandoms and fandom content creators. I’ll never not do my part but it’s so disheartening to see so many incredible fics with such depth and understanding of individual characters and dynamics with like… less than 10 comments on ao3. That shit kills the spirit fr xoxo DA ❤️

PS Daniel sitting out the entirety of BC2 because he was too busy playing The Last of Us is laying me tf out and I’ll be thinking about it often 💭

DA!! Thank you so much!! You are honestly a treasure and a gift to this fandom and I know we all appreciate your messages so much! 💖💖

None of us thinks we're owed ANYTHING but like... I came up in fandom in the 90s and 2000s, where people were sharing stuff in newsgroups and on forums and then livejournal. It was a community and everyone interacted with each other and shared their thoughts and commented on fics! Fics launched whole discussions and more fics about similar topics. Now it feels like fandom is so isolated, and people put creators in some separate box where they will consume what they create but not dare interact. And it's weird! We're all just part of fandom, flailing around and trying to have to fun.

Now there's this social media like button culture where people (not just in fandom) will leave a like and move on and that's fine except it doesn't feel as personal and creates this lonely atomosphere. It's so passive, as you said, and as someone who's spending a lot of their free time and brain power crafting fics because I'm excited about the characters or an idea and I want to share, putting it out there and getting nothing back is so demoralizing.

And then of course there's the insecurity. Most writers have it in spades so when we post something and the response is... lackluster... the first thought is often "Well, apparently this one sucks." It creates all kinds of doubt! And then if you're me, sometimes you feel stupid for posting at all and wonder if you should take it down. (I talk myself out of this and then more comments come in and I feel better - although lately comments are hard to come by after the first couple of days a fic is live!)

But I digress. It's just this whole thing and it's weird because no one owes anyone comments or compliments, but creating into a void is depressing and unsatisfying and it's going to lead to people not bothering to share what they make. And that's a bummer, because fandom is all about sharing and conversing and having fun as a group. Otherwise I can just tell my headcanons to my cats, who are always happy to listen.

But you always do your part!! I love your messages and they always make me feel like I've succeeded. So thank you so much again for your kind words! I really am proud of that fic and I hope people will start to realize that a quick comment is worth so much to fic writers. It doesn't need to be elaborate!

And LOL yes, I love the idea of Daniel being so busy battling digital zombies that he's just.. not involved in the last book. Armand calls from time to time and Daniel talks him off a ledge and then fights his way through another zombie-infested building. 😂😂😂 This is my current theory and I'm sticking to it.

[metize]

Behave.

Rating: Explicit Warnings: Rape/Non-Con Relationships: Yagami Light/Reader Additional Tags: Reader-Insert, Praise Kink, Yagami Light is Kira, L is reader's brother, but no one's supposed to know, Possessive Behavior, Unhealthy Relationships, Blackmail, Coercion, Sexual Coercion, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, 'good girl's, AFAB reader - Freeform, Misogyny, Workplace Sex, Desk Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Vaginal Sex, this is filthy, I'm so sorry, Manipulation, Top Yagami Light, Jealousy

A/N: Filth! Absolute dirt! I'm the Trash Man! I come out, I throw trash all over AO3, and then I start eating garbage! Enjoy.

"You seem to get along very well with L."

You could practically feel your heart stop when Light said that. You felt so stupid, of course, this guy would figure it out. You tried your best to look unfazed while you panicked on the inside. The black-haired detective and you were trying to keep it a secret from the task force that you were siblings. You cursed Ryuzaki internally, he had been acting kind of protective towards you and it was bound to raise suspicion.

“You think so? I’ve just been trying to be on good terms with everyone.” You deflected.

The investigation room was empty save for the two of you, there was a single monitor showing the news broadcast reporting on the most recent Kira murder. You focused back on the files you were sorting through. Your older brother never cared much for organizing and that drove you mad. You glanced in Light’s direction again, he was staring at you, his gaze sent shivers down your spine, you just forced an awkward smile.

"Did you let him fuck you yet?" He deadpanned.

"W-What the fuck? Of course not!" You answered abruptly. You were offended that Light would even ask something like that. The crude way he said it too, made you blush in embarrassment. You found it weird he'd say something like that, usually Light was nothing short of a gentleman when addressing you.

"Don't get coy all of a sudden. Just admit you two are fucking already." He sounded annoyed now. He got up and got closer to your desk, his eyes never leaving yours. You sometimes felt intimidated in his presence, now in the middle of the night, alone with him towering over you, this feeling increased tenfold.

"T-that's disgusting! Why are you even saying that? We're just… we're just friends, coworkers who get along, whatever!" You started to crack under the pressure.

Light brows furrowed for a second and then his eyes widened in revelation. A grin formed on his face and he burst into laughter like he had finally gotten the punchline to a joke. His laughter was scary, loud and almost maniacal.  You didn't know how to react exactly so you looked at him nervously and confused.

Did he believe you? Did he find the misunderstanding funny? Was that it? You hoped that was it. You offered a weak smile as his laughter died down.

"I was so caught up in this… obsession… this feeling of jealousy… ah. It was obvious all along. You're siblings. Siblings!" He shook his head smiling "This is pathetic. You're becoming such a nuisance with your distraction."

He figured it out, of course it had only been a matter of time. But that realization took way too long for his liking. He was blinded by the rage of the idea of L having you and he didn't stop to consider any other possibilities.

"Excuse me? I didn't-" You got up and started to retort his rude comment.

"Shut the fuck up." And you did so out of shock. Light wasn't like this normally, he was relatively courteous and nice. Why was he so… brutish all of a sudden? He smiled at your obedience. "Good girl."

The praise felt so dirty, you frowned at him. Being infantilized was something you were used to dealing with in the workplace, being surrounded by older men. But Light was pretty much your age, what was he thinking?

You didn't have time to wonder because the man grabbed your collar and pulled you into a kiss.

You tried to push him away instinctively and ask what the fuck he was doing, but Light grabbed your wrists. He held them so tightly it almost marked your skin. Your lips were still closed so he bit them to make you part them. He kissed you aggressively as if he was punishing you for something. his tongue entered your mouth deepening the kiss and claiming your mouth for himself.

He tasted like coffee and sin.

"God, and I thought fucking L's girlfriend was a good idea, this is way better." He sounded extremely amused. "I wonder how is he going to react when he finds out I fucked his pretty little sister?"

Ryuzaki had always had a bad feeling about Light, he mentioned you should be careful around him, you knew all that and here you were. You thought he was being overprotective, to be fair Light wasn't the first guy L had a bad feeling about.

Light's hand was now caressing your hair, smiling content with your current predicament and very proud of himself.

"We… w-we can't." You tried to come up with an excuse. "We work together, so it would be-"

"I am Kira."

You heart stopped when you heard those words. Everything started connections in your head, every lead, every tip, every death. You still had many questions, some things didn't make sense, but as you stood there looking at that man's face it was clear that he wasn't joking.

"W-why are you… telling me this?" You tried to back away slowly. You could hear your heartbeat drumming in your ears.

"Because I feel like keeping you to myself." He smiled sinisterly, every step back you took he stepped forward to approach you again "I was contemplating killing you after pounding your cunt, but I told myself I deserved a little treat."

Hearing him talking about murdering you in cold blood activated your flight instinct immediately. You turned away and rushed towards the door, but as soon as you tried to twist the doorknob and open the door, it was locked. You twisted the knob again and again, desperately trying to unlock it with sheer willpower.

“Stop that, you’re smarter than this.” You heard his voice right against your ear, his hands now grabbing your waist and caressing you through the fabric of your blouse. “There’s only one way you leave this room” he placed a kiss on your neck and you shivered despite yourself “with my cum leaking down your thighs” he grabbed your throat suddenly “and invisibly leashed to me, like a good little pet.”

You were shaking, incredibly aware of Light's bulge pressing against your ass, one hand toying with the hem of your shirt and the other still holding your neck possessively.

"Are we clear, pet?"

You felt his grip tighten a bit so you just quickly nodded your head. It showed to be the wrong answer, because you were punished with a sharp swat to your ass.

"Use your damn words, there's a reason I chose not to gag you." He grabbed your face, forcing you to make eye contact with him. "Say 'Yes, master'."

He was a sick fuck. You wanted to scream at him and call him exactly that. You wanted to push him away and go home already. But god damn it, you wanted to survive this.

"Yes… m-master."

He smiled at your obedience and his grin made you sick to your stomach. He placed a kiss on your temple and pat your hair gently.

"There you go, good girl. That wasn't so hard, was it?" He turned you around quickly and pushed your back against the door. His mouth was on yours again, his hands slipped under your shirt and you shivered feeling his cold touch on your skin. The fabric was restraining his hands so he grew frustrated and started to undress you at once.

"Y-you don't… have to do this, Light. I promise I won't tell anyone, just let me go and-"

"Don't waste your breath. You'll need it when I get to choke you properly…" he answered simply, amused by your perseverance, all the while looking forward to breaking it. "I want to fuck you, so I'm going to do it. I have the whole world in my hands and it's not a little pet that's going to deny me what I want. Understood?"

He tossed your shirt on the floor and started pulling your pencil skirt up. He glared at you for not answering and you promptly spoke up.

"Understood."

He smirked. You felt his fingers trace your slit over your panties, you shuddered and instinctively tried to move away.

"Don't fucking move." His other hand grabbed your waist holding you in place. His tone was harsh and you were so fucking scared.

"Sorry"

"I'm sure you are… Good girl, at least you have manners." He chuckled at that. "Not that your decency matters, look how wet you are for your master…"

He stroked the wet fabric to emphasize his point and you tried to hold back a moan, but it was useless. It felt good, of course it felt good. Light was a hot guy, he obviously knew his way around someone's body and you were only human. His lips captured yours again and he kept playing with your clothed sex as you made out. You could swear you were going insane, the pleasure of his hands on you was intoxicating and his mouth on yours had you gasping for air.

"Get on your knees. Now."

You needed to survive this, you needed to be useful to him. The way he ordered you around did excite you but you needed to stay focused. You were not supposed to feel good, you were supposed to find a way out of this situation.

For now that meant kneeling before Light as he pulled out his cock for you.

You gulped as you eyed him, of course Light Yagami had a big dick, you had to have suspected it. But now you had to give him head and you knew very well he wasn't going to go easy on you. He saw your hesitation and scoffed in amusement.

"Go ahead pet, you want to prove to me you're worth keeping around don't you?" He smiled devilishly at you.

"Yes, master." You murmured and licked your lips. You could do this. And, in a weird way, you kind of wanted to do this, you wanted him to praise you more, to call you a good girl again… you repressed the thought. This is disgusting, Light is disgusting and a murderer. You were strong you won’t fall for his games.

You grabbed his cock by its base and started to gently suck the tip. You looked up at him before taking the whole shaft into your mouth. You sucked him off to the best of your, limited, abilities, trying to get him deeper with each bob of your head. Maybe if he came in your mouth he wouldn’t touch you further, maybe he’d let you go.

Your hopeful thoughts are interrupted by the man’s hand grabbing your hair forcefully, you looked at him and he was grinning like the maniac he was.

“Sit still, let me use your throat a little bit.” His voice was unshaken. You felt a bit annoyed he didn’t seem phased by your efforts. You didn’t have time to dwindle on that feeling because Light was grabbing your face and fucking your mouth as soon as he finished his phrase.

His pace was unrelenting and you felt your spit dribbling down your chin, you tried to breathe in small intervals and you could see him laugh at your predicament. You felt rage but he slowed down his thrusts and started petting your head. Like a kid. Like a pet.

“That’s a good girl, such an obedient little pet…” he breathed and pulled out “Bend over your desk for me.”

Fuck. You were out of breath, you could only nod and do as he said. You didn’t even think of disobeying his order, he praised you again, you were doing a good job… You got up and rested your torso on the desk. He was going to fuck you. Light was Kira and he was blackmailing you into submission. This was an absolute nightmare. So why the fuck were you so turned on?

“You know where you belong, don’t you, pet?” You felt his presence behind you and he pulled down your panties. “Not above anyone, not next to your brother… Not even by my side.” He pulled your hair and you yelped despite yourself “You belong under me.”

He entered you forcefully and you couldn’t help but moan loudly at the intrusion, he didn’t prepare you with his fingers, he didn’t touch you properly at all, it hurt and he knew. But he didn’t give a fuck.

“You should be grateful to your master, whore.” His hand reached around your neck his grip making you gasp. “Tell me you can be obedient.”

“I can!” You cried and you felt his other hand reach between your legs to press your sensitive bud.

“You think you can be useful? Do you think you deserve to live to serve your master?” His thrusts were getting harsher and he groaned “Do you?!”

“Yes, master, please, master!” You begged. To cum, to live, anything. Light held your life in his hands and you were so scared, but so turned on.

“You better....” He grunted and kept on rubbing your clit “I fucking own you. I’m going to cum inside you, going to make you my breeding bitch.”

Oh no. That wasn’t good. That was a bad idea.

“N-no… please not inside” You heard him laugh at your resistance.

“Then tell me… tell me his name.” His name? Fuck. Ryuzaki.

You couldn’t tell him his name. Was he going to kill you if you didn’t? You couldn’t do it. You sobbed and grasped his arm in fear.

“No, I can’t, I can’t!” You cried out shaking your head. The pleasure was overwhelming and you came on his fingers screaming. “I can’t! Ah!”

You saw stars, Light never stopped pounding you as he laughed maniacally at your desperation.

“Know your fucking place… useless cunt.... Fuck-” His laughter died down and he pulled you closer as he came inside you.

You felt his spent dripping down your pussy, you trembled both from the orgasm and from fear of what came next. Light pulled out and turned you around, smiling amused at your scared face.

“Don’t worry, pet, of course I wasn’t counting on a dumb slut like you telling me this information…” He pat your head and you stood there with tears rolling down your face “You’re beneath me, I don’t need you, I don’t need your help. I’ll find out eventually.” He chuckled and wiped away your tears “But I do know your name. So you better behave.” He kissed your forehead. “Won’t you, pet?”

[robininthelabyrinth]

For your prompts: Mingjue is ace or demi, and somehow between taking over the sect at a very young age and never displaying interest in it, no one ever gave him The Sex Talk. All the aunts and uncles assumed someone else took care of it. Then Huaisang gets to that age. He seems to be very interested in sex. He needs The Sex Talk. Mingjue feels like that should come from him (he's taken care of all the rest pf raising him after all), but he doesn't have the info to do that.

How does Mingjue give him The Sex Talk? Or alternatively, does Huaisang end up already knowing and giving The Talk to his big brother instead?

ao3

“All right,” Nie Mingjue said, sitting down and gesturing for Nie Huaisang to sit down across from him. “I guess we’re going to have to talk about this.”

“I knew this day would come,” Nie Huaisang said, looking unbearably tragic. “I’m going to die of embarrassment before the day is through, da-ge. Won’t you have pity?”

Nie Mingjue knew him too well, though.

“Okay,” he said.

Nie Huaisang frowned at him.

“If it’s too embarrassing to talk about sex, you’re not ready to talk about sex,” Nie Mingjue said with a casual shrug. “We can postpone the conversation to –”

“No! I want to hear about it!” Nie Huaisang scowled at him. “Da-ge, everyone else got the sex talk! You wouldn’t want me to fall behind, would you?”

Nie Mingjue blinked innocently at him. “But Huaisang, you said…”

“Never mind what I said!”

Nie Mingjue tried to maintain his façade of innocent neutrality but quickly cracked in the face of Nie Huaisang’s exasperation; he started laughing.

Nie Huaisang grumbled.

“There’s not much to say,” Nie Mingjue said, wiping his eyes. “And it’s not as if you can’t get by without it, you know. I mean, no one ever gave me the talk.”

Nie Huaisang frowned. “No one? What about A-die? I mean, before…”

“He was busy, and kept postponing it,” Nie Mingjue said, shrugging. “And then he died, and everyone assumed he’d done it already. It’s fine. Everything I needed to learn, I learned from books, and you’re going to do the same.”

“…books.”

“Yep, books.”

Nie Huaisang heaved a sigh. “You’re going to make me learn this incredibly important subject from textbooks? Really, da-ge?”

“I am,” Nie Mingjue said.

“You’re robbing me of a valuable life experience here.”

“I’m so sad for you,” Nie Mingjue said dryly, pulling out a box and spreading out the books he’d obtained just for this purpose. “Now, I know you hate studying, I know you think it’s boring and a waste of time, but I really think in this instance –”

“It’s fine,” Nie Huaisang said quickly. His eyes were fixated on the books in front of him, and for some reason he’d flushed bright red, even though it wasn’t all that hot in the room. “I don’t mind. I’ll study hard, da-ge.”

“I feel like I’ve heard that before once or twice,” Nie Mingjue remarked, then shook his head. “Anyway, I think just one or two –”

“I need all of them.”

Nie Mingjue blinked, sincerely this time. “All of them?” he said, and looked down at the books. “Huaisang, I don’t think you understand. I got a selection so that you could have your pick, but they’re by and large very repetitive; each one more or less describes the same basic acts –”

“I need all of them. For reasons.”

“…all right,” Nie Mingjue said, bemused but generally pleased by Nie Huaisang’s highly unusual enthusiasm for study. “I thought I was robbing you of a valuable life experience?”

“That was before! I didn’t realize the books were going to be spring books,” Nie Huaisang said. He’d grabbed one and flipped it open, staring wide-eyed at one of the illustrations.

“What type of textbook would there be for this subject other than a spring book?” Nie Mingjue asked, wondering – as ever – if he’d missed something. Raising children was hard, and raising Nie Huaisang was harder; everyone agreed. “Anyway, I’m given to understand that the art is a bit exaggerated, especially in terms of proportion, and the accompanying text can use some rather strange metaphors, but fundamentally the acts described appear generally consistent throughout the various sources. For example, if you look at this one, you can see that the woman has –”

“Yes, da-ge, I can see.”

“I’m just pointing it out,” Nie Mingjue said defensively. Nie Huaisang was being especially impossible to understand today. “Anyway, it’s all a bit weird, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Nie Huaisang said. “Very weird. Incredibly weird. You know what, I think I need to think about this privately for a while.”

“I…are you sure?”

“Very sure.”

“If you insist.” Nie Mingjue stood up. “If you have any questions –”

“Yes I’ll be sure to ask you please leave now thank you good-bye.”

Nie Mingjue found himself outside the door to Nie Huaisang’s room, not entirely sure how his much smaller younger brother had managed to push him out so effectively. Maybe some of that saber training was actually having an impact, however spaced out and half-hearted Nie Huaisang’s efforts were.

Cheered by the thought, Nie Mingjue headed back to his office, feeling very good about himself: that wasn’t nearly as awkward as all the other people had made it sound. It’d been no problem at all!

Of course, a few months later, he found out that Nie Huaisang had started buying up spring books like he’d developed a mania for it.

“That seems fine,” he said to the disciple who’d reported it. “I mean, it’s a bit strange, yes, but he’s always been fond of hobbies that involve collecting things. Birds, weird rocks…that sort of thing.”

“I’m not sure it’s…exactly the same,” the disciple said carefully. “But if you’re not concerned, Sect Leader, we’ll just leave it be.”

“…I’ll talk with him,” Nie Mingjue decided, mostly because of the weird expression on the disciple’s face, and the disciple looked relieved.

Later that evening, he followed up on his word.

“Huaisang, I heard you’re buying spring books,” he said, and Nie Huaisang nearly choked on his soup.

“You can’t just bring that up over dinner!” he hissed.

“…why not?”

“You just – can’t!”

“I can, and did,” Nie Mingjue said. “Some of the disciples have expressed some concern about it.”

Nie Huaisang’s shoulders went up by his ears defensively. “Is it because I’m buying cutsleeve books as well as regular books?”

“They sell cutsleeve books? Really?” Nie Mingjue said blankly, temporarily distracted. “I wouldn’t have thought there’d be enough of a market to make the printing worthwhile. Aren't they supposed to be relatively uncommon? …anyway, no, it’s not about that.”

“…you don’t mind?”

“Why would I mind?” Nie Mingjue said, puzzled. “I’m glad you’re expanding your horizons.”

“You…are?” Nie Huaisang was blinking rapidly.

“I mean, you’re reading? Reading is good. I’m always happy when you advance your scholarly pursuits,” Nie Mingjue said. “I mean, I’d still like it if you spent a bit more time on your saber…”

“Wait,” Nie Huaisang said hastily, clearly wanting to avoid the subject of his saber training. “If you don’t mind the fact that I’m buying them, or the content, what is the concern?”

“Mostly quantity, I think?” Nie Mingjue hadn’t been able to figure it out either. “You’ve exceeded your allowance twice already, and really, how many books recounting the same exact content can you really need?”

“It’s not quite the same content,” Nie Huaisang said. “There are different…scenarios.”

“Yes, but it all leads to the same place in the end, doesn’t it? Hand, mouth, front, back, inside or outside; you read one, you’ve read them all. Though I guess the cutsleeve ones are different?”

“Not really,” Nie Huaisang admitted. “But maybe take a look anyway? Maybe you’ll like those better…here, come up to my room.”

Nie Huaisang had, apparently, started in on making quite a collection, and from the way he puttered around trying to find the right ones to share, seemed to be in the process of becoming a little connoisseur. It was pretty adorable, actually; Nie Mingjue couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Nie Huaisang so enthusiastic.

“Having two spears involved does seem to make it a bit more awkward,” he concluded after paging through a few. “And obviously you can’t do it from the front in the same way, but other than that the mechanics generally seem the same. I suppose there’s really only so many ways you can twist the human body…”

“How about this one, then?” Nie Huaisang said, offering up a book about mirror grinders sharing a toy between them. “Twice the young ladies involved!”

“That seems even less efficient. If they wanted to be penetrated, why be a mirror grinder instead of finding a man?”

Nie Huaisang seemed somewhat taken aback by the question. “Maybe they just fell in love with another woman first?” he eventually suggested.

That seemed reasonable enough, so Nie Mingjue nodded agreeably. “Makes sense that they’d use a toy, then. Otherwise wouldn't they be stuck with using just mouths and hands? Though I suppose there’s always the eponymous grinding motion, too.”

Nie Huaisang reached over and put his hand in Nie Mingjue’s lap.

“Huaisang! What are you doing?”

“Just checking,” Nie Huaisang said, rubbing the back of his head. “You’re really not…Wait, let me find you some others. Maybe you’ll like these better – they have more scenario involved.”

Truly Nie Huaisang had a wide collection. There were solo stories, coupled stories, stories involved groups of three or more, stories involving people being tied up or doing the tying, one story involving whips and pinching nails that Nie Mingjue initially thought was a torture manual that had gotten mixed in by mistake except for how the receiving party seemed extremely enthusiastic about it. There was even one involving –

“Fish?”

“Tentacles.”

“People want to fuck fish?”

“It’s not – you know what, I don’t know, maybe they do,” Nie Huaisang said, throwing up his hands. “Octopi are a surprisingly popular subject along the coast, and some of the artwork from Dongying features it.”

“You have works from Dongying?” Nie Mingjue asked, impressed. It wasn’t every young man’s hobby that involved international commerce. “You’re really turning into a collector, Huaisang.”

“I’m not – it’s not –” Nie Huaisang grimaced. “You know what, maybe the disciples are right and I should cut down on purchasing so many.”

“Why? If you’re enjoying your new hobby –”

“There’s a difference between being known as the guy who has some good spring books and being known as the guy who collects spring books as a hobby. The latter just sounds pathetic.”

Nie Mingjue wasn’t entirely sure about that.

“Well, it’s up to you,” he said, and started to get up to leave, only to have Nie Huaisang tug on his hand.

“Da-ge, I have a question.”

Nie Mingjue sat back down.

“Have you ever…?” Nie Huaisang nodded at the books.

“No,” Nie Mingjue said, wrinkling his nose a bit at the thought. “It seems like more trouble than it’s worth, really.”

“What about…uh…” He gestured at one in particular. Nie Mingjue leaned over and checked; it was one of the ones featuring a single man touching himself. “Do you…?”

“Oh, sure,” Nie Mingjue said. “Every once in a while. Don't most people? But there’s rather a difference between doing that and having to get up close and personal with someone else’s genitals, isn’t there? We all wipe our own asses after we shit, but that doesn’t mean we do it for other people.” He gave Nie Huaisang a pointed look. “Present company excluded.”

“I was a baby, it doesn’t count,” Nie Huaisang hissed at him. “Never bring it up again.”

Nie Mingjue smirked at him.

Nie Huaisang rolled his eyes dramatically. “Da-ge, you’re hopeless. One day you’ll find someone you like enough to try it with!”

“Maybe,” Nie Mingjue said. “Maybe not. It doesn’t really matter, does it?”

“Uh, yes it does! You’re going to have kids, aren’t you?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” Nie Mingjue said, hesitating a little. “Huaisang, you’re my heir.”

“I know that! I’m in line until you have kids of your own to inherit…why are you shaking your head?”

“You’re going to inherit after me,” Nie Mingjue said, as gently as he could. “I’m probably not going to have kids, but even if I did, I’d arrange it so that they’d be part of the branch family, not the main line. I want you to inherit.”

Nie Huaisang’s eyes were going wide.

No, it was too early to tell him about the saber spirits, Nie Mingjue thought to himself. About their family's horrible temper and his private suspicion that the temper and the qi deviations fed into each other; his conviction that Nie Huaisang would be a better sect leader than him, a better continuation for their line than him, and his determination to make sure that the next generation of Nie sect leaders didn't have to fear a shortened life the way he did. He’d tell him that later, sometime. Today was a good day, there was no point in spoiling it.

“Is that going to be a problem?” he asked instead. “I mean, you have such a wide variety here; don’t tell me you’re solely interested in cut-sleeves…?”

“No,” Nie Huaisang said. “No, I like – everything.”

“Well, then,” Nie Mingjue said. “There should be no problem, then. If you end up with a woman, have some kids; if you end up with a man, take a concubine. Either way, you’ll get an heir.” He frowned. “Assuming you don’t mind –”

“No, da-ge,” Nie Huaisang said, and he sounded incredibly long-suffering. “I think I’ll manage to have sex, somehow.”

“Well, I mean, if you’re thinking about actually going ahead and trying it out, that’s a whole different conversation we need to have, as opposed to the talk about what it is. You need to be careful about it –”

“Ugh, da-ge, please, no –”

“I’m not going to lecture! Just don’t overdo it or anything. You don’t want to end up with a thousand bastards like Sect Leader Jin –”

“Gross! No!”

“– or with all sorts of diseases –”

“Da-ge!”

“– or with a reputation for being a dissolute or a –”

“I will only have sex with someone I love,” Nie Huaisang announced. “Or at least mildly care for. A nice clean person who likes me back. Okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“More or less,” Nie Mingjue said, and glanced down at the books. “Say, Huaisang. You know so much about this. Have you ever…”

“Do you have a question?” Nie Huaisang scooted forward. “Ask away, da-ge!”

Nie Mingjue flicked his forehead. “Not a substantive one. But have you ever thought about making your own? You’re a perfectly good artist, and you’re very imaginative; I’m sure you could come up with some scenarios of your own that might be very interesting.”

Nie Huaisang’s eyes were wide. “I could, couldn’t I?” he said, marveling, and then suddenly jumped up and dashed over to grab some paper. “Oh, I could! I could – and that – and – and..!”

Nie Mingjue decided to retreat, smiling proudly to himself.

Reading and writing, he thought happily. They’d probably never get a warrior out of Nie Huaisang, but there might be a scholar in him yet!

[beca-mitchell]

little taste of heaven (i'm caught up in you) (1/1)

Summary: now i see daylight AU - Beca and Chloe’s first date, finally. 

Word count: 3.9k

For @anna-kendrick​: We've worked on this universe for the past year and holy, it means the world to both of us that you guys love Beca and Chloe as much as we do. Thank you so much for the encouragement and love, always.And of course, again, thank you to Josi who is an incredibly talented artist. Look at this art.

title from "untouchable (taylor's version)" though I did heavily consider using "our song"...i just liked the energy of untouchable a bit more.

Read below or on AO3!

* * * * *

AGE: 15/16 LOCATION: Brookline, MA MONTH: June

 * * * * *

 It is finally June. The warm air is only a hint of better things to come. Like the last day of school before total freedom.

Beca smiles at Chloe as she nears Beca’s locker. “Hey,” she greets. “Good practice?”

Around them, students mill about excitedly, cleaning out their lockers and making plans for the summer to come. Chloe shrugs, hair clearly still damp from her shower. “I don’t know why we keep running through practices when we have no more games for the season.”

“Got to keep the regional champions in top shape,” Beca teases. “Keep the other teams on their toes.”

“But I’m tired,” Chloe complains. She leans heavily on a neighboring locker. “Since it's the last day of school, will you come over tonight for dinner? My parents are whining about how they haven’t seen you in a while.”

Beca clears her throat, thinking about how the last time she had gone over to Chloe’s house had been when Chloe and Tom broke up...at the end of April. Over a month ago. She had gone because Chloe had been crying and upset. She had gone because even if her body ached with the anxiety of not knowing where she and Chloe stood, she and Chloe were always going to be friends first. Best friends.

Best friends who felt something more than friendship for each other. Confirmed, real feelings. Feelings that made them want to kiss each other.

Feelings that they hadn’t yet talked about. Or acted on despite both of them being extremely single at the moment.

Hell, Chloe's birthday came and went a couple weeks ago without much fanfare. Beca had been too shy to do anything remotely romantic and they ended up going to a movie with a few friends before going to an arcade.

“Bec?”

Beca nods stiltedly, pretending to contemplate her now-empty locker a bit more before turning to face Chloe. She steadies herself with a quick breath. “I’d love nothing more.”

 * * * * *

 Beca stares at her reflection with some trepidation.

“It’s just Chloe,” she mutters to herself, eyes tracking over every crease in the skirt she has picked out. Maybe I should go with jeans, she thinks. But it’s gross and hot out today.

She isn’t even sure why she’s nervous. It just feels like a return to normalcy of sorts, but Beca’s pretty sure that now that she knows what it feels like to kiss Chloe and what it feels like, a little bit at least, to know that Chloe feels somewhat similarly to her. It’s different. In a good way. Maybe it’s different in a scary way.

She isn’t even sure she can bring up the topic with her mother, so that’s an added layer of uncertainty: it’s additionally anxiety-inducing not knowing how her mother will react.

It’s well past the time that Beca should have already walked out the door to head next door by the time she actually forces herself out of her bedroom and down the stairs, but she figures Chloe will understand. And dinner is rarely ever prepared at the exact time stated in the Beale household anyway. Beca’s not too worried. Just nervous.

She finally reaches out to press the doorbell.

Chloe opens the door almost immediately. “Thought you got lost,” she teases.

“Were you just waiting behind the door?” Beca asks quickly, allowing Chloe to grab her wrist and pull her over the threshold.

“And if I was?” Chloe shoots back, offering Beca a lazy smile, playful in nature. With an underlying hint of something else.

Beca blinks the surprise away. “I wouldn’t be complaining if you were waiting for me. Just sorry I kept you waiting,” she offers.

“Dinner’s not ready anyway,” Chloe says, as Beca expected. They breeze past the living room area, taking a mild detour past the kitchen and towards the back porch. “I might have told you a slightly earlier time because I wanted to talk to you about something,” Chloe says lightly.

“Should I say hi to your parents?” Beca asks worriedly before it registers what Chloe just said. “Wait, what? Talk to me about what?”

“Come sit with me,” Chloe says instead. Patiently. She gestures towards the tree - the tree they used to play under all the time as children - nestled in the corner of the backyard.

It’s one of Beca’s favorite spots.

She follows Chloe, wondering if it’s too late to run home and change into her jeans because she’s sure the grass and sticks will prick at her skin, but she’s surprised, as they near, that there is a small blanket laid out underneath.

Chloe had planned for this.

“Please sit,” Chloe offers. She sits comfortably, patting the spot next to her. “I had a feeling you’d dress up a little. Didn’t want you to get a dress dirty.” Her eyes drift down to Beca’s skirt briefly before she lifts her eyes, smiling at Beca. Beca doesn’t feel self-conscious, shockingly. She feels content. Safe.

Maybe a little warm if anything, but she knows that’s probably the proximity to the girl she’s been crushing on for the longest time.

“I...wanted to talk to you because we haven’t...really talked. About...y’know.” A hint of nervousness creeps into Chloe’s voice. “When we kissed and then Tom…” she hesitates. “We just didn’t get to talk about anything. And now the school year’s pretty much over, so I thought…”

“Right,” Beca agrees quickly. Her palms begin to sweat. She sure as hell hopes Chloe doesn’t expect her to lead this conversation. It was mortifying enough the first time around when she had basically laid everything on the line while Chloe was still dating somebody else. When Chloe had left her with nothing more than a heartfelt, vulnerable don’t give up on me. Then she had broken up with Tom and that was all their school could talk about for weeks.

And now this. Somehow Beca survived all of that while slowly making sure her friendship with Chloe survived as well. They both made sure of that.

“I like you,” Chloe declares. “I mean...I think I always did. Like you, I mean. As more than a friend. But the feelings were really confusing.”

“I get it,” Beca says a little too quickly. “I’m sorry,” she murmurs, laughing a little when Chloe smiles at her. “I feel like I haven’t stopped thinking about this for a while. But I never wanted you to feel pressured to talk about this with me even though we kissed.” She ignores the way her voice totally cracks over that last word.

“I never felt pressured,” Chloe assures her gently. “I am so...grateful that you’re in my life. I didn’t want to mess this up. But I think we should...try.”

“Try?” Beca echoes.

Chloe blushes. Like a full-on blush that spreads across her cheeks, visible to Beca even in the dying daylight. It makes her cheeks rosy and Chloe even flinches at her own reaction. “Dating,” she says simply once she seems to regain control of her emotions. “I want to go on dates with you. And hold your hand. And more kissing! If that’s what you want.”

Beca’s sure that her heart explodes somewhere in her chest because she suddenly finds it very difficult to control various parts of her body. She can’t control the smile that spreads across her face and the following, matching blush in her cheeks. It heats through her face with ease. And even worse, she can’t control the way her hand comes up to her mouth as if to instinctively cover her smile because somehow being thrilled that her crush is basically asking her out making her body react in embarrassing ways.

Chloe laughs at her, not a hint of malice in her laugh. Just joy. “I take that as a yes. Thank God, I wasn’t sure how I was going to convince my parents to move away.”

Beca rolls her eyes. Finally. Teasing. She can do that. “You wouldn’t be able to leave me. You like me too much.”

Chloe’s smile grows soft. “Well...yeah. I do. A lot.”

Beca’s breath catches. She’s sure she could kiss Chloe right now and the crazy part is, it wouldn’t even be totally weird. Or out there. Because they’re going to start dating. But maybe kissing Chloe again before their first date is frowned upon? Beca has no idea. She’s still only ever kissed one person and that person is sitting in front of her.

“Girls! Dinner!”

As if Chloe had been reading her mind and her intentions, Chloe shakes her head and stands, offering a hand to pull Beca up. When Beca stands, they’re somehow even closer - almost nose to nose - than they had been when they were sitting. “Saved by the bell,” Chloe whispers, breath close enough to be felt on Beca’s mouth.

 * * * * *

 The most interesting part is that Beca hadn’t really thought about any of this - dating Chloe - beyond just vague daydreams and fantasies about just some kind of happy utopia with Chloe by her side. It’s honestly not much different from their usual day-to-day considering how close they already are, but dating? Actual dating?

Her Google search history stares back at her accusingly.

dating tips dating best friend first date first date movies dating girl what to do

She supposes she could ask her mother, but even that brief thought makes her shrink away from her desk. Beca stands and begins pacing. She’s sure that she’s overthinking this all. That Chloe could probably care less about what they do on their first date. That Chloe’s probably just expecting them to spend time together, just the two of them. With more handholding. And maybe a kiss at the end of the night.

“Shit,” Beca mutters suddenly. She rushes back to her computer, adding another search to her list.

kiss on first date ok???

She frowns. Not quite.

kissing before first date acceptable

In the end, she is saved from her descent into a hole of online searching by a text from Chloe herself.

Chloe dinner tomorrow at south street? haven’t been downtown in a while

Beca i’m down!

The ease at which Beca replies does not at all reflect the somersaults in her stomach.

 * * * * *

 “Hey,” Chloe calls, putting her menu down. “Where’d you go just now?”

Beca blinks, realizing that she had glazed over the menu entirely, too wrapped up in her own thoughts. “Oh, just...contemplating…” her eyes land on the first item she sees. “Salad.” She can’t help the way her own nose wrinkles instinctively at the thought of eating salad.

Chloe is as intuitive as ever, smiling as she reaches across the table to touch Beca’s hand. “You hate salad. Especially here.”

Beca swallows, struck by both the normalcy and intimacy of Chloe’s touch. They’ve been friends for years—there is nothing extremely off-putting about them holding hands or even just randomly touching each other on the arm, shoulder, knee.

And yet—

Chloe draws her hand away, seemingly not at all aware of Beca’s inner turmoil this time. She refocuses on her menu. “Want me to order something for you?” she asks instead.

Beca nods, though she is surprised. “Sure.” Now she’s curious as to what Chloe will order for her. And if she’s being honest, it kind of makes her feel giddy, the thought of Chloe knowing her well-enough to order something. Not that Beca would even bother with telling Chloe that she’s wrong. She’d eat anything at this point, just to spend more time with Chloe.

It’s not even like they’re at a fancy restaurant. It’s a diner downtown. The bright retro designs all around plus the comfortable, plush booth seats are all appealing to Beca and she likes the general atmosphere.

But she kind of wants to just…

“Can I sit next to you?” she blurts out. Immediately, she clamps her mouth shut, resisting the urge to avoid Chloe’s curious gaze, which lifts to meet hers immediately.

Chloe grins. “I would want nothing more. Get over here.”

Beca nearly sags in relief, but focuses instead on moving around the booth so she and Chloe are sitting closer, now on side of the booth.

Beca focuses on the frequent piece of advice she had found through a few somewhat reliable Google results.

Hold her hand.

Beca does. She inches her pinky across the cool vinyl seats until she can feel Chloe’s against her finger. Then, she slips her hand over Chloe’s, gently hooking her fingers on Chloe’s palm until Chloe gets the idea.

Chloe’s hand flips slowly, their palms touching. Beca exhales, sliding her fingers between Chloe’s, already liking the easy, comfortable fit of their hands.

Chloe says nothing, content to enjoy the silence and familiarity just as Beca is content to allow her feelings to take over. For a moment, Chloe appears to be perusing the menu in silence, but there is a steadiness to the set of Chloe’s shoulders. Beca can tell, having been so attuned to Chloe’s characteristics for longer than she’d like to admit. For longer than even Chloe herself knows at this moment. She glances at her date—her date!—selfishly taking the moment to appreciate Chloe’s profile.

It’s something she has done so many times before, but this time...this time, in a diner outside of town with the soft clatter of dishes around them and Chloe’s soft, warm palm against her own, Beca knows this is different.

“You know,” Chloe starts awkwardly. “I...obviously don’t mind if you ordered on your own.”

Beca laughs. “Why’d you offer to then?”

“I don’t know,” Chloe says, exasperation in her voice. She groans and hangs her head slightly. “I asked Max and-”

“You asked your brother what to do on a date with me?”

“No!” Chloe explains before she snorts. “I just...told him I was worried about impressing a girl. And I don’t know why, but I somehow thought he’d have some idea.” She grins a little, glancing at Beca out of the corner of her eye. “Did it work?”

“Maybe a little,” Beca says distractedly. She’s more fixated on the fact that Chloe must have been truly desperate to have turned to her older brother for help.

“Oh and he totally guessed I was going out with you, by the way.”

That’s not something that thrills Beca too much. Her imagination immediately conjures up a comically exaggerated vision of Chloe’s brother threatening her with a knife. “How?” she asks. “What did he say?”

“Nothing, really. He just kind of guessed and then said ‘finally’ or something like that.”

“Well, thank you for offering to order for me. It was very...chivalrous of you.”

“Please stop.”

“Quite charming.”

“Beca.”

“I can’t wait to see what other moves you try on me. Are we going to share one milkshake?”

“...no?”

 * * * * *

 They end up ordering two separate milkshakes because Beca sticks to her vanilla and Chloe orders chocolate.

“Try,” Chloe commands. “You always get vanilla. Chocolate is so good.”

Beca sighs, but obediently sticks her straw into Chloe’s cup despite Chloe’s protests of “contamination” and quickly takes a sip just to shut Chloe up for the time being. It’s not horrible - Beca just isn’t the fan of how chocolate tastes in milkshake form, though she’s sure Chloe will claim there’s no difference if the milkshake were in a solid chocolate bar form instead.

However, she’s mildly distracted by the sudden proximity she and Chloe have between them. Chloe’s arm rests loosely over her shoulder, where she had put her arm when Beca leaned in to drink from Chloe’s cup. She can practically feel Chloe’s breath on her neck and her cheek.

It would be so easy to just turn and -

Beca shakes her head slightly and shifts back. Chloe takes a moment longer to slowly move her arm from around Beca’s shoulders.

“What?” Beca asks quietly, poking at her fries a little. She catches Chloe smiling at her affectionately.

“Nothing,” Chloe replies quickly. “Just...you smell nice. That’s all.”

 * * * * *

 “I guess it’s kind of convenient that we live together,” Beca remarks, trying not to think too hard about the way Chloe’s hand feels in her own. She winces. “Well. Not live together. But…you know. Live next to each other.”

Chloe tilts her head, smiling as they walk up the path towards their houses. “And why is that convenient?” she asks lightly.

Beca blushes. She hadn’t thought this far. “I’m…I don’t know. I was just…commenting. On the convenience.”

Chloe giggles, pulling Beca closer ever so slightly. Beca likes the way their arms press together. She likes holding Chloe’s hand. She likes lifting her other hand to curl against the bend of Chloe’s elbow.

She likes knowing that Chloe likes her—really likes her—and Chloe enjoyed their date and—and—

“This is you,” Chloe murmurs, stopping in front of Beca’s door.

Beca kind of doesn’t want the night to end. She wants to sit on the porch and talk to Chloe for a few more minutes. Maybe one more hour. Just to hear the sound of her voice and have her attention for a few moments longer.

“This is me,” Beca parrots, feeling a lot more nervous than she thinks she’s letting on. That was what people said in those movies adorning Chloe’s shelves, right? It was what the internet said. Normal first date cliches. She steps backwards, under the light of her front porch, still holding Chloe’s hand as she does so. Chloe hesitates for a moment like she wants to follow, but ultimately she simply squeezes Beca’s hand in understanding and drops her own hand away.

Beca is immediately disappointed. She hadn’t wanted that at all. She bites her lip, watching as Chloe awkwardly shuffles her feet before she glances back up at Beca. A soft, slow smile spreads across Chloe’s lips, gentle and affectionate all at once. It makes Beca’s heart pound ridiculously hard.

“I had fun,” Chloe whispers, like she’s afraid somebody else will hear her. But not because she's afraid of other people. Just afraid that their bubble will burst, like Beca is. Another step closer. Beca swallows. “Can we do that again?”

“You’d want to go on more dates?” Beca asks, just to clarify, even though she knows exactly what Chloe’s asking.

“I would love to go on more dates with you.”

“Me too,” Beca squeaks out. “I—um—”

Chloe’s smile stretches, somehow happier than before. “Goodnight Beca.”

Something in Beca snaps. She steps forward, just two small steps and calls out Chloe’s name. “Wait,” she adds hastily.

Chloe stops and turns, surprised.

“Can I—” Beca swallows, licking her suddenly dry lips. “Can I kis—”

She doesn’t get to finish her question before Chloe is covering the ground between them in two short strides, wrapping her hand around the back of Beca’s head, letting the other come up to Beca’s arm, and kissing her for all her worth.

Beca gasps in surprise into the kiss, hands coming up to Chloe’s shoulders, squeezing tightly. Gently and slowly, Chloe presses further into the kiss, her lips moving ever so lightly against Beca’s. It is so much more than their first kiss—a do-over, if anything—and Beca realizes, with a jolt, that this is something she can do now. She can kiss Chloe because Chloe likes her and Chloe went on a date with her. Chloe held her hand all night.

Chloe wants to kiss her too.

Beca hums happily at the thought, looping her hands behind Chloe’s neck. It feels instinctual even as Beca blushes at the sudden intensity of the kiss. She knows Chloe has kissed more people than she has; she knows Chloe will forever have more experience in this regard. But God, Beca thinks that she has never felt more wonderful or powerful than she does in this moment, tightening her grip on the fabric of Chloe’s light jacket.

Pulling back ever so slightly, Beca heaves a breath and rests her forehead against Chloe’s forehead. Chloe’s breathing is the tiniest bit labored as well. For a moment, neither of them dares to move, too afraid to break the spell between them.

Chloe is the first to smile—the first to press forward ever so slightly so their noses brush delicately. “What were you going to ask?” Chloe murmurs.

Beca swats her shoulder lightly. “You’re so weird,” she mumbles back, leaning in to steal just one more kiss from her beautiful, wonderful date.

 * * * * *

 When Beca reaches the solitude of her bedroom, she finally gets what all those high school romcoms were about. Showing their protagonist thrilled to finally finish a date so they can squeal and giggle and simply dream about their crush or date. It’s probably the first time that Beca has felt her energy rebound around her room with such happiness and positivity. The sensation is addicting—she honestly just wants to text Chloe all night.

Which, honestly, she could.

Chloe kissed her. Chloe kissed her because she likes her and they just went on a date. A freaking date.

A text from Chloe jolts her back to reality.

Chloe i miss you, is that weird?

Beca no because i miss you too. weirdo.

Chloe i have something else to tell you. that might be weird. Idk

Beca go for it.

Beca watches the text bubbles float in and out on her screen, like Chloe is typing a paragraph. Despite Chloe just saying that she missed her, Beca can’t help but feel nervous.

Chloe I just wanted you to know why i picked south street. it’s because. well. Remember when we first went there by ourselves without our parents. Sometime last year. With a few friends. And we all squeezed into that booth and sat there and shared fries and milkshakes and felt like we were at the top of the world because we were finally in high school or something stupid like that. I don’t even remember much about that night or who we were with but i do remember seeing the way you laughed at something and how your entire face lit up. and i remember thinking that i really liked you and how scary it was that i felt these things for you so suddenly and so much. Like a lot. but i’m so glad that we both got to this point - that we both feel the same way. I just really loved the way you looked when you laughed and i am so happy you’re in my life.

Chloe also i really like kissing you

Beca doesn’t even bother replying.

She shoves on her shoes again and rushes out the front door. She is only surprised to see Chloe sitting on her own front porch, staring worriedly at her phone.

“You really are so weird, y'know that?” She calls out, careful not to startle Chloe too much.

Chloe does jump anyway, but she sets her phone down quickly. “What are you doing?”

“Finishing this date off again that you confessed your big scary feelings. Through a text message.” Beca pretends to be annoyed as she stomps over to Chloe. “You couldn’t have said all that?”

“You make me nervous!” Chloe exclaims.

Beca shakes her head, mustering up all the courage she has in the world, pulling Chloe in for a kiss like she wanted to earlier before Chloe beat her to it.

“So much better,” Beca whispers, smiling when Chloe huffs quietly against her mouth.

It's the perfect end to the beginning Beca has been dreaming of all this time.

fin.

[kylorengarbagedump]

Defy Your Authority: Chapter 1

Read on AO3. Part 2 here.

Summary: You’re a Lieutenant, stationed on Orinda. You’re content with your trustworthy crew, but issues with a certain ship (spoiler alert: it’s the TIE silencer) end up trapping you on the Steadfast, instead. Your relationship with Kylo Ren isn't how you left it. How many more messes can you stand to clean?

(Yes, this is the sequel to Fix Your Attitude.)

Words: 4500

Warnings: None. Yet.

Characters: Kylo Ren x Reader

A/N: Umm... hi!! I don't have much to say other than I'm very excited to post this, and I really hope you enjoy it! I love you all so much. I'm genuinely lucky and grateful to have you in my life.

You weren’t ready.

Since the alert had come in that the First Order would be sending a transporter to Orinda, your hands had been jittery. There’d been no indication, no hint as to what your team should be expecting when they arrived. In the four months since you’d arrived at the fuel post, you hadn’t received a single visitor from the brass.

“Hey, Chief.” 

The voice called you as you were chest-deep in a pile of fuel-cells. Grunting, you wrenched yourself free, patting the reactor dust from your uniform. Certainly there was some in your hair, too. 

“Hey, hi Tonis, what’s up?” You tried to restrain your anxiety to the perimeter of your mind. “Can, uh, can I help you?”

Tonis, your third engineer, sighed, wrangling his hands together as he looked to the ground. “Do you know what’s going on with this transport unit arriving?” His thin lips twisted in a frown. “They’re saying that they might be shutting the post down.”

“Oh, jeez.” You shook your head, grabbing a rag from the terminal and wiping your hands. “No, no. Nothing like that. I’m sure.”

“Okay,” he said. “Good. I really, really, really don’t want to be moved. Again.”

Grimacing, you looked at your reflection in the terminal facade. “I know.”

“Orinda’s really great,” he said. “All the different ships we get to work on. And it’s so quiet. And our team is so great--”

“I know.” You mussed your hair, as if shoving dirty fingers through it would improve its appearance. Incredibly, it did not. “They’re only sending three people. I’m sure it can’t be that big of a deal.”

“But that’s the thing!” he said. “Don’t you think that a transport unit with only a few passengers must be here for something super-official?”

Your chest seized, and you cleared your throat, turning back to him. 

“Maybe.” You ignored the hot burn of your cheeks. “Guess we’ll see when they get here.” 

The terminal blipped, a familiar pattern that indicated the atmosphere had been breached. It’d been awhile since you’d felt like you had the power to summon anything of importance with a single thought. The reminder tweaked your heart. 

“Or… I guess we’ll see now.”

Tonis squealed, running through the post. “Hey! Hey guys! The First Order’s here! The First Order’s arrived!”

Sighing, you looked into the terminal again. Four months hadn’t changed your appearance too much. Not that it mattered. Or it might. But you wouldn’t worry about it. Only a little.

You steeled your nerves and walked out of the hangar into the dusty outcropping of the fuel outpost. Flat land stretched for miles in diameter from your station, a rolling pitch of blue mountains in the far distance, the wind whipping across the plains, rustling the dry grass. Shielding your eyes with a hand, you gazed up and spotted the transporter, a blooming black spot in the cloudless sky, quickening the pace of your pulse with every passing second.

It was just a transporter. He wouldn’t be on it. There was nothing to freak out about.

Tonis had gathered the rest of your massive crew--all three of them, him included--and they surrounded you, faces taut with anticipation.

“What do you think it is, Chief?” That was Mirna, your second engineer, a short, wide-set thing, with buzzed hair and a gruff voice. “You think they’re shutting the place down?”

“She already said she doesn’t think it’s that,” Tonis replied.

“Well, yeah, but then, why are they just sending three people?” said Lin, your mechanic. 

“There’s plenty of reasons they could send three people,” Tonis said, as if he hadn’t just been agonizing over that very issue just minutes ago.

Mirna snorted. “Like what?”

“An announcement,” Lin said. “Maybe they’re canvassing all First Order planets.”

You nodded, chewing your cheek. “Sure. That could be it.”

“Or maybe it’s a survey!” Tonis was almost wiggling with excitement like the little nerd he was. “Does anyone else love filling out those weird surveys?”

“No, nerfherder,” Mirna teased, grinning. “Just you.”

“Could be an escort.” Lin shrugged. “Maybe they’re here to pick someone up.”

Mirna laughed. “Oh, come on,” she said. “Who in the stars could they have an interest in on this planet?”

Blood blazed your face. “It’s a mystery.”

You hadn’t told anyone since arriving what had brought you there or why you’d come. You hadn’t told them when you’d first landed that you still had the cum of the Commander of the First Order leaking out of your cunt. You hadn’t told them that just hours before, he’d held you in his arms, brought you into his mind, and shown you--with a breathless, crushing tangibility--how utterly and completely he loved you.

You hadn’t told them, either, that in the days, weeks, months following your arrival, you hadn’t heard from him at all. 

With a dying wail, the transporter hovered and landed, spitting up a ring of dust that smacked you in the face. You sputtered, wiping your eyes, the rest of your crew apparently victims too. Frowning, you crossed your arms, brow cocked as the ramp whined and descended. Something akin to fear needled your heart in the empty space between the sound of footsteps and the emergence of two Stormtroopers stomping to the ground. 

Something that was definitely fear gripped it as those two troopers were followed by a man you’d hoped to never, ever see again.

“Engineer.” General Hux had somehow lost none of his smarmy, pink-cheeked smugness--his refusal to say your name was out of petty spite at this point. And his face was just as punchable as you remembered. “I see you are, for once, prepared for our arrival.”

“What sort of facility chief would I be if I didn’t stay on top of our arrival queues?” You hid your hands behind your back to hide their quaking. “Though I believe my rank is Lieutenant, now, sir.”

“Lieutenant,” he replied, with the same amount of disdain he’d probably afford a crying child. “I imagine it’s the lack of distraction.” He smirked. “I loathe to think of the productivity you would’ve had on the Finalizer with a similar environment.”

“Oh, as do I, sir.” You offered him a gleaming smile. “I can’t imagine a punishment worse than being in your good graces.”

“Chief,” hissed Mirna. “That’s a General of the First Order. What are you doing?”

Cursing internally, you pinched yourself, stood straighter. Your team would have no idea why you felt so comfortable mouthing off to a man who, otherwise, might’ve had you thrust into the bowels of space by now--and to be honest, you didn’t have much of an idea why at this point, either. Your presumed protection was hardly a current presence in your life. 

You shook your head, wagged out your hands. “Let me try again, sir.” Clearing your throat, you continued, “General Hux, sir. To what do I owe the honor?”

Hux smirked. “As much as I hate to interrupt, Lieutenant,” he said, continuing to let the word drip with more venom than a snake ever could, “I’m here to order you to come with me onto the Steadfast.”

“The Steadfast?” Obviously the name of a ship, but not one you were familiar with. No news bulletins had made their way to Orinda in the time you’d been stationed. “Why?”

“The Supreme Leader’s TIE fighter has ceased functioning. Every engineer we’ve brought to it has failed to diagnose the issue.” His jaw tensed in real, actual reluctance. “We were at the border of the Rim, and unfortunately, I thought of you.”

You blinked. He wanted you to work on Snoke’s TIE fighter? 

And then another question: Snoke had a TIE fighter? 

“Uh…” Frowning, you glanced around at your crew. You couldn’t stand the thought of leaving them for days on end. “How long will I be gone?”

His face betrayed nothing but pure disgust. “As long as it takes you to fix a TIE fighter.” He watched as you paused in thought. “I wasn’t offering you a choice, Lieutenant. We’re leaving now.”

With that, he turned on his heels, marching up the ramp. A long, slow breath left your lungs, and you turned to your team, scanning their faces for any reaction. To your surprise, everyone but Tonis seemed rapt in excitement, eyes wide and chins wagging in awe. 

“I had no idea you were such a big shot!” Lin grinned. The other two nodded in agreement.

Blushing, you rubbed your arm in embarrassment, looking between them. “No, no,” you said. “Nothing like that.”

“You have to tell us the story, one day.” Mirna was smirking.

“Uh… Right.” You coughed. “So, hopefully I’ll only be a day or so, max,” you said. “Mirna, you’re in charge while I’m gone.”

“You got it, Chief,” she said. “Tonis, my first order is for you to please calm down.”

He shot her a glare. “Good luck, Chief!” He offered you a salute, which was both strange and unnecessary. “We’ll be thinking of you!”

Warmth spread in your chest. “I’ll be thinking of you guys, too. Don’t make too big of a mess, okay?”

“Yes ma’am!” they replied in unison--and then broke into laughter. 

You shook your head, finding yourself laughing with them. “Okay. See you guys soon.” 

Bowing your head, you trudged up the ramp into the transporter, taking a seat far away from Hux and the two Stormtroopers. You wondered why he’d bothered to bring them to a tiny outpost like Orinda, but you supposed that self-importance and paranoia knew no bounds in the higher ranks of the First Order. 

As the door closed to the transporter, your heart wrinkled. In the past few months, despite your open ache, Orinda had become your home, your crew had become something akin to your family. You hoped the issue with the TIE fighter was something stupid, like a busted hyperdrive. They were simple to repair, but most engineers wouldn’t mess with lightspeed travel--the mechanisms were so delicate that even a simple mistake could result in splitting the ship. 

The transporter rose into the air, and in seconds, it burst into the sky. A windowless cargo meant you could only imagine the faces of your crew as you disappeared into the horizon. You sighed, watching your feet as they jostled with the jerking of the ship. You weren’t sure what the Steadfast was like, but apparently Snoke had moved his operations there. Though you still had no clue what Snoke looked like, you’d never imagined him to be the type to fly--but perhaps a Supreme Leader required multiple skillsets.

The awkward ride finished without a single word being exchanged between you and Hux, which was fine by you, and possibly finer by him. When the ramp lowered, he speared you with his gaze, waiting for the troopers to exit before standing and ordering you to follow him with only his eyes.

You tromped down the ramp into the hangar on the Steadfast--it looked almost identical to the one on the Finalizer. The ceilings stretched high, like a giant’s mouth, the magnetic shields glowing teeth at the lips of the bay. Ships buzzed above you, racing in and out of their docks, the floor crowded with soldiers and officers alike. 

The rush hit you--sure, the time on Orinda had been fantastic, engaging, rejuvenating. But it would never match the thrill of working in the presence of fleets and fleets of warships, surrounded by the heady spell of urgent, prestigious labor. You sucked it through your nose, held it in your chest, unable to stop your eyes from lingering on every busted ship they saw. In the distance, a team huddled around the smoking wing of a TIE fighter--you bit your lip to prevent yourself from racing over, from tearing it apart for them.

Another thing you weren’t able to stop looking for was any hint, any presence of the Commander--but in the bay, you didn’t even catch evidence of the Command Shuttle. It was a huge assumption to guess he’d be on the Steadfast to begin with, but part of you hoped he’d trailed his precious Supreme Leader to any place he was ordered. It figured that the one time you might have been within thinking distance, he’d managed to make himself scarce. 

Another twine in your heart snapped, joining the collection that’d been unfurling since you’d departed the Finalizer. 

Yes, he’d said he would find you. You still believed him now, even. 

But really. What was taking him so damn long?

Hux led you to a wide dock toward the very front of the hangar. The crews you spotted along the way seemed detached, working without words, communicating with gestures and mirthless expressions. Tonis’ silly salute would never happen here. You frowned. The lack of thrill was worth your autonomy.

“Lieutenant.”

A snap of your head, and you blinked. You were in front of your charge. 

This TIE fighter was unlike one you’d ever seen. Instead of the flat panel wings, this one bore talons, sharp knives capable of cutting space and possibly any ship in its way. Red-paned transparisteel formed the cockpit into a muzzle, imitating an animal instead of a sphere. And it wasn’t a ball suspended on plates, but was rather tucked tight into the body of the ship, creating a seamless, dynamic transition that to you, seemed so new, so modern. It was almost--sexy? 

You looked to Hux. “Are you sure this is the one that isn’t working?” Lips parted in awe, you stepped up to it, placing a hand on the solar array. “It’s gorgeous.”

“The Supreme Leader has been unable to fly it for cycles, now,” said Hux. “I’m sure.”

“All right.” You rolled your eyes. “Got it.” 

What you needed was a post-flight report. You strode over to the nearest terminal and entered your credentials--thankfully, as a Lieutenant now, they were universal to the entire First Order system. Only one ship was logged underneath the access: TIE/vn space superiority fighter: SILENCER.

“TIE silencer?” you mumbled. “Where do they come up with these names?”

You investigated the reports in the past several cycles that detailed the attempts by engineers to get the thing working: thrusters aligned, check. Solar lines flushed, check. Refuel port cleansed, check. Heat calibration reset and replaced, check. 

And yet with each new repair--engine test: fail. 

Engine test: fail. 

Engine test: fail, fail, fail. 

Screwing your lips in thought, you landed on the post-flight report, hoping it would provide you with insight. If he knew what was good for him, Supreme Leader Snoke would be thorough.

You opened the report, and paragraphs of information flooded the screen. Your jaw dropped. Every single system had been left with a meticulously in-depth account of its status before, during, and after flight. The level of specificity contained within each sentence astounded you. It was almost unbelievable that a single person could remember this much, let alone regurgitate it with any level of accuracy. You groaned, lost in Basic.

Hux cleared his throat. “How long do you anticipate this taking, Lieutenant?” 

“As long as I--...” You stopped yourself with a grumble. It would be much easier to hear it from the tauntaun’s mouth, instead of pouring over and cross-checking every single detail. “I’m not sure, General. Is there any way I could speak with the Supreme Leader?” 

A strange, smug look passed over his face. “Certainly,” he replied. “I’ll take you.”

You blinked. That was easy. Almost too easy. “Uh… okay.”

Hux turned on his heel, clipped stride cutting through the hangar. You hadn’t been prepared to meet the Supreme Leader when you woke up this morning, but you supposed anything was possible when working for the First Order. Swallowing, you shut down the terminal, and followed him into the halls.

Returning to a Star Destroyer, in a way, felt like home--the glossy black tile passed like a familiar path beneath your feet, and you spared fleeting glances to the Stormtroopers who passed you. The halls of the Steadfast maintained their similarity to everything else on the Finalizer--though that did nothing to assuage your anxiety about the memories you’d had on that ship. Or who may or may not be on this one. 

“Do you work on the Steadfast, now, sir?” 

Hux was silent for a moment, gaze trained forward. “Yes. The Finalizer was decommissioned.”

“Wait, really?” Your heart thumped. The only datapad message you’d received from your friends had come in the first few weeks after your departure. You just assumed they’d been busy. “What happened?”

“A Resistance attack left it crippled,” he replied. “Leadership and surviving crew were transferred to the Steadfast.”

Terror seized you, your pace quickened. “Sur-surviving crew?” you asked. “Sir?” More silence. You stumbled to catch up with him, fighting the tremor in your voice. “Sir--”

“Engineers Foster and Loren were transferred to this vessel unharmed, Lieutenant.” He leered at you. “Satisfied?”

You heaved a massive sigh, hands falling to your knees. They were here. You’d have to catch up with them, soon. 

“Yes, sir, thank you--” 

By the time you’d finished, he’d already managed to make it what seemed to be fifty paces ahead of you, and you scrambled to keep up with him. 

As you did, a grey-haired man emerged from the corner in front of you both, and Hux stiffened, cursing under his breath. Raising a brow, you tried to meet this man’s gaze, only to bump into the general, who’d stopped, limbs pinned to his sides.

“Shit!” Your face burned, and you jumped back, snapping to attention. “I mean, uh, sorry, General, sir.”

The look Hux offered you was similar to one a parent might offer a simpering child. Right before they murdered that child in a fit of blind rage.

“General Hux,” said the grey-haired man. “Just the one I was looking for.” 

“Allegiant General Pryde.” Hux’s chin jutted to the ceiling. 

The Allegiant General Pryde turned his attention to you, glimpsing your uniform before meeting your eyes. “I’m afraid we’re not acquainted, Lieutenant…”

You gave your name. “Sir.” Clearing your throat, you continued, “I’m Chief of Operations on Orinda.”

“Ah.” His gaze lingered on the fuel cell filth smattering your chest. “Of course.” Something within his eyes categorized you in league with rodents--and something else within them told you he crushed rodents for sport. “Interesting.” His attention whipped back to Hux. “General. Regarding the Council meeting…”

“I plan to present the Supreme Leader with my plan, sir.”

“I know you do,” Pryde replied, “but you failed to run it by me.”

Hux’s jaw tensed. You wished you were anywhere other than this extremely awkward hallway meeting that had absolutely nothing to do with you.

“Forgive me, Allegiant General,” Hux said, “but I didn’t think a basic unit efficiency research required your approval.”

“Everything requires my approval, General,” he said. “Lest we forget the errors of Starkiller Base.”

That was a low blow. You gulped. They both looked at you, and you cleared your throat again, throwing your hands behind your back. The energy radiating from Hux could be classified as skin-scorching. 

“Of course.” Hux’s tone grew tighter with each word that left his lips. “I’ll remember that next time, sir.”

“Good.” Pryde glanced between you. “What brings a facility chief from her station all the way to the Steadfast?”

“The Supreme Leader’s TIE fighter, sir,” Hux replied, still staring into the air. “She may be the only engineer capable of repairing it.”

The Allegiant General frowned. “Really. How many resources did you expend picking up a single person from a remote outpost?” he asked. “Do you not consider this to be something I should know?”

“It was a brief excursion,” he said. “I took two Stormtroopers and a single transport unit.”

“Was that unit’s excursion approved?” He circled Hux, a silvered predator, sizing up his prey. For once, you almost felt bad for the ginger bastard. “What if Resistance staged an attack while you were gone? If we needed that unit for more than a handful of bodies?”

Hux’s lips pursed, chin dimpling with tension. “I don’t know, sir.”

“And how do you think the Supreme Leader will feel knowing you acted without approval, all to retrieve a single engineer?”

Silence drifted like fog over the three of you, thickening as this grey-haired power-laden dickhead glared at General Hux. But Hux’s back had aligned, parallel to the wall, every flicker of frustration fled from his frame. The tiniest hint of a smirk curled at his mouth.

“I think he’ll be just fine with it. Sir.” Hux’s brow quirked. “We’re on our way to speak with him now, if you’d like to accompany.”

Pryde grinned, a serpent’s twist to his smile. “Your confidence has failed you in the past, General,” he replied. “Lead the way.”

You trailed behind the Allegiant General and Hux, fingers starting to quake. Now, you’d not only be meeting the Supreme Leader still smothered in space dust, you’d be meeting him accompanied by the two biggest assholes in the First Order--second only to one other, perhaps. 

Unfortunately, that particular asshole was a ghost to this ship, and there wasn’t anyone in particular you felt comfortable asking about him. If Hux had been superceded by this new jerk, the last thing you wanted was another opportunity for someone with rank greater than your own to question you about your personal relationships. 

Dread pooled in your belly. Supreme Leader Snoke did know about your personal relationship with the Commander. In fact, Snoke had been the one to insist you be his conduit, among other insulting things. You imagined him bringing it up: Ah, yes, the engineer, the distraction… and how have you been, without his cock inside of you?

You shook your head. No, it didn’t make sense for him to bring up his apprentice’s dick at your first meeting. Or any meeting, for that matter. You hoped.

The two men led you through the rest of the journey in silence, animosity prickling like durasteel barbs in the air between them. At least your own team didn’t regard you with vibrodaggers behind their backs--as far as you knew, anyway--and the realization, against the backdrop of your current situation, had you aching to leave. The discussion with the Supreme Leader would be swift and succinct; you’d get the information you needed, diagnose the problem, and be on your way back to Orinda. 

In front of you, a massive turbolift sang its arrival, blast door whirring open. You followed the two men inside, heart tingling. Maybe part of you had been hoping that your long-awaited reunion would have occurred during your time aboard--as you thought it, you tried to stymie the resentment that you’d waited this long at all. The rational part of your mind reasoned that he was a busy man, that lack of contact didn’t indicate lack of thought. 

But every other part of your mind was staving off bubbling despair. Four months had felt like four years, and you’d only grown more desperate, more anxious for his embrace--then furious that he didn’t appear to return the sentiment. 

You knew how he felt. So it didn’t make sense, then, why he hadn’t acted on it for even a single, solitary night in the past sixteen weeks.  

When the blast door opened, you crossed the threshold into an obsidian sanctuary. The floor gleamed, a black lake of glass sweeping into high ebony ceilings that twinkled with artificial stars. The only other illumination came from two enormous spheres that hung, suspended in air at opposite ends of the room, their surfaces a swirl of white-grey light, imitation suns with colorless coronas. At the far end of the room was a hovering stone throne, six dark figures crowding it in a crescent. 

Your heart stammered--you’d seen them before. In memories that hadn’t belonged to you. All of them were outfitted in clothing that seemed familiar, helmets that hid their identities, and each of them possessed a weapon meant explicitly for assassination. The only conclusion you could draw was that they were the Supreme Leader’s bodyguards. 

Whoever they were, to you, they were ominous.

The two men in front of you strode forward, and you followed, catching your reflection whispering by your shoes: your hair was mussed with evidence of engine exhaust, your uniform still glowing with smears of ionization. Internally, you cursed yourself. Yeah, this was exactly how you’d wanted to look when meeting the Supreme Leader of the First Order--like complete shit. Stomach sinking, you sidled behind them as they stood at attention. 

“Supreme Leader,” they said simultaneously.

As if on command, the wall of shadowed soldiers parted to reveal the throne. 

But no one was there.

You blinked. “Oh.” 

Hux’s head swiveled between the strangers in front of you. “Where is he?” He turned to Pryde. “These are his receiving hours--”

“Yes,” replied the Allegiant Asshole. “But perhaps he’s departed early for the Supreme Council meeting. We’d be better off--”

The turbolift doors wailed behind you, and like synchronized chronometers, you, Hux, and Pryde spun to meet the new arrival. 

Your brain went blank.

Kylo Ren crossed the shimmering sable floor in a confident stride, his robes replaced now with padded armor that clung to the contours of his powerful, thick chest, his broad shoulders covered with a hooded cape. His fists, still bound in leather, flexed at his sides--and his face... 

More beautiful, more arresting than you could have conjured in any memory, his lips still pink and plush, his nose still a long line, his hair still rolling in waves, like black silk-velvet at his shoulders. You met his eyes as he advanced, finding them guarded, resurrecting every fear and insecurity, tempering them with hidden warmth. 

“Generals.”

The voice was lightning through your limbs, its owner a perfect match to the soft baritone you’d replayed in your dreams for the past one hundred and fifty two days. All of your systems leapt to life at once: brain spinning, heart soaring, adrenaline coursing. Sweat soaked your neck, your figure thrust whole into a furnace.

“Sir!” Both bowed their heads.

Gazing at him, then, you realized what was happening. This was his throne. You were working on his TIE fighter. Kylo Ren, your lover, your obsession, your galaxy was now the de-facto leader of the actual galaxy. You weren’t in love with the First Order’s Commander, anymore. 

You were in love with its Supreme Leader. 

Shock anchored your mouth open. Your eyes welled with latent tears. You grinned in disbelief.

“Dude!” You laughed. “What the fuck!”

[glowingbadger]

Thirsty Libra anon here again. Thank you. My thirst is both sated and reawakened. (Guess you could say I had an Awakening? lol sorry.) If I may, may I request a nsfw fic with him? Maybe a "together for the first time" type thing? Thank you so much in advance!

Thirsty Libra Anon, blessed are you among Anons xD I actually do have a reader x Libra fic on AO3! It's one of my older ones, so there's a few things about it I don't 100% stand by, but the link is here if you do wanna check it out. If I had a dime for every time I wrote a fake prayer to a dragon goddess for priest-kink smut I'd have two dimes, which isn't a lot, but it's weird that that's happened twice

In the meantime, let's play around with something new for our beautiful priest~

Libra (FE: Awakening) x GN Reader - first time

NSFW 18+

It's easy to get carried away chatting with Libra these days. It had taken you both long enough to make your mutual attraction known to one another, and longer still for your relationship to regain the easy, comfortable familiarity it had prior to confessing. So it was an immense relief that today had felt so natural. You'd passed the afternoon in energetic conversation, trading ideas about some of the more fascinating and obscure scriptures he'd introduced you to (they never talk about the really cool stuff in sermons).

And because you'd had such a lovely time together, you couldn't risk letting him know that a part of you wanted more.

Of course simply being with him was absolute bliss- you'd never thought you could be so lucky. He's a private person, and so elegant, ethereal even. It's hard not to feel downright unworthy sometimes. So thoughts of those battle-calloused hands across your body, and golden hair spilled across your pillow would simply have to be stowed away in the back corners of your mind.

Now, the sun is setting outside the confines of Libra's tent among the encampment, and you've no doubt that he would find it improper for you to stay past dark.

"Well then, I should leave you be for the night I suppose. Wouldn't want people to talk!" it's an awkward joke at best, as you straighten your clothes and prepare to leave, "not- not that you would have any interest, I mean-" you add, refusing to meet his gaze.

Libra speaks your name cautiously, and when you convince yourself to look up at his eyes, he's leaning towards you and his brow is deeply furrowed.

"Have I... caused you to believe that I don't desire you?" His hand gently brushes your cheek, which you can already feel warming up.

"Well, uh, not you per say, but I just assumed that-"

With both hands now woven into your hair, Libra pulls you close and kisses you deeply. Your breath hitches in your throat. His tongue pushes between your lips. You feel dizzy, fuzzy, like you're floating, but he doesn't let up until you're breathless and your heart is pounding against your chest.

"Please, Y/N," he murmurs, his breath hot on your skin, "Allow me to repent for this grave oversight. You should never have cause to doubt that I long for you."

It takes you a moment for your mind to catch up, but once it does, you say,

"What... kind of repentance did you have in mind?"

Without a word, he directs you onto your back on his bedroll, and the moment he's above you, he's kissing you again with that same new fire. Your arms drape across his shoulders and his strong hands wrap around to your back and pull you flush against his body. Sometimes you forget how hard and muscular his body really is underneath those conservative robes, but you can hardly think of anything else when the friction between you two is so wonderfully impassioned.

"Libra..." you whisper out his name when he releases your lips to focus his instead at your neck.

"Can you forgive me, my love?" he says against your neck, his lips and teeth grazing your skin as he speaks, "I am prepared to worship each and every part of you that I adore if it will convince you of my earnest desires."

"I'm already pretty convinced, but don't let me stop you," you mutter, the words hardly registering in your own mind. All you can think of is those beautifully soft lips on your skin and his touch down your back. He sets to work removing your clothes; he's methodical about it, taking time to observe and openly admire every inch of flesh bared to him. His long eyelashes almost hide the hunger in his gaze, but not quite. You've never seen that expression on him before, and you're transfixed. Somehow, an edge of passion only highlights the gentle beauty of his features.

With clothing discarded, you're finally exposed to each other in full. Your eyes meet for a moment, but you can't remain idle for long. When he kisses you now, you can tell he's done holding back. You never knew he had this in him, but the way his tongue pulses against you as he nips tender love-bites to your skin is rousing something in you as well.

He spends a good amount of time at your chest. With one of his large hands cupping the outer contour on one side, his lips tend to the hardened nipple on the other. You whimper out his name, your back arches up to him as he sucks and nibbles at the little nub. He groans with raw and unabashed lust, circling it with the tip of his tongue. Then, his kisses trail lower, never easing in their intensity as he travels a path down the center of your torso. You feel him rutting against your inner thigh, his manhood warm and stiff as he says, low and husky,

"Naga forgive me, your body is gorgeous, Y/N."

Before you can make a coherent reply, you feel his fingers at your entrance, massaging gently into you. You inhale sharply, barely restraining your hips that desperately want to buck towards him. One digit pushes inside of you, with the second soon to follow. He maintains a slow pace at first, but his fingers curl up towards him and mercilessly stimulate your most sensitive nerves. Tension winds in your gut already. You're panting softly, and he comes to nuzzle the crook of your neck.

"Relax, my love, allow me to show you the extent of my affections."

"What... what about you...?" You gasp out, leaning into him with the golden curtain of his hair beside you.

"For tonight, do me the honor of allowing me to focus on your pleasure."

He's using that firm-but-kind tone that you recognize from the rare occasions he delivers public sermons, and so you know there will be no arguing this point with him. Instead, you kiss his lips tenderly, and then softly say as his fingers work within you,

"Then please, Libra... please take me for real..."

He takes your hand in his and kisses your knuckles. Then, his fingers slowly pull out from you, and he positions himself between your thighs. You gaze up at him- at the fair skin punctuated by scars, old and new. At wisened eyes that worship you in the mere act of looking. You give him a shy smile and brush his hair behind his ear.

Libra takes a breath, and you feel the head of his cock pressing to your opening. You've been a bit impatient with him, urging him to enter you without much ceremony or foreplay; still, he's achingly hard, and you can feel his length throb at the mere contact of his body against yours.

Then, he's pushing into you. Your first thought is that his manhood is incredibly thick- a deceptively impressive symbol of masculinity to pair with such a lovely face. A whimper of both need and fulfillment escapes you as he spreads you apart around his girth, driving into you until his hips are held firmly against you. You both take a breath in unison, then, he his lips are on yours once more as his body begins to move above you. The veins up his shaft grind along your inner walls, only enhancing the incredible sensation of his cock pushing and pulling against you, and with each thrust of his hips, the thick head presses to your deepest point.

Libra makes love like in a salacious novel- the kinds of novels that court ladies claim to enjoy for their romances, rather than for their intensely lurid contents. He's tender, focused, passionate, very nearly obsessed. Your thighs squeeze around him, subconsciously urging him closer to you, deeper within you. The entirety of your bodies are joined, intertwined, and you know your climax won't be long.

"I have wanted this since the moment I understood my feelings for you," he whispers to you, a ragged edge to his voice as the pace of his thrusts picks up, "I never dared to dream that you wanted me in this way as well... Nngh..." you reflexively clench around him in response to his words, and he groans deeply, his head dipping down onto the pillow beside you. Your hands cling to his sturdy body, your thighs lift around him just a bit, allowing him to fuck you more deeply.

"Of course I... want you, Libra..." you half-moan, "I adore you... mm! You feel so good-!" His cock throbs and swells, and you feel a tingling rush up your spine. A shudder wracks your body as you cry out his name. You couldn't have expected that this would cause him to snap his hips towards you with far more force than before. "Yes-!" you gasp out, your eyes dazed and unfocused as he chases his own pleasure at last. One hand steadies him beside you while the other wraps under you, holding you to him so firmly that you're practically lifted up from the bedroll. He has incredible stamina, fucking you hard and deep until your eyes roll back and your thighs tremble around him.

And then at last, he holds himself deep within you, only shifting his hips enough to rub the head of his cock against your core. Then, he pulls away. You hear him gasp out your name, and you feel the heat of his release as he spills across your inner thighs. He lets out a truly remarkable amount- which you distantly think that you should have expected, since it's not likely he allows himself this pleasure very often. By the time he pushes himself up from you, panting softly as he regains himself, he poured out all of his cum onto you, though his cock is still twitching in the wake of his climax.

Once more, he holds your hand in his and places a kiss to the back,

"I dearly hope that you can forgive me, my love."

You give him a tired, yet obviously skeptical grin,

"For what?"

"For giving you any cause to believe that I would not desire you. In truth," he goes on, his eyes leveling on yours, "I would have you each and every evening, were you amenable."

Your eyebrows raise, and the pink flush returns to your face.

"That... could be arranged, perhaps."

[5uptic]

crewfu: fanfic spotlight!

We work together by Anonymous (5up & DK, unrated, gen | 248 words)

Summary: One likes plants and baking, the other loves to create and design video games. They stay up and create monstrosities together, it's their fun, it's their favourite game. Aka a 5up and Dk roommate au!

No matter how life tangles, I’m still here with you. by hungryandsleepy (5up/Steve, general rating, m/m | 279 words)

Summary: 5up has been working so hard on his new map, and of course, he needs someone to give him a motivation to go to sleep.

objectively pretty by vesque (5up/Steve, general rating, m/m | 462 words)

Summary: steve is drunk. he's pretty sure 5up is too. that doesn't mean being called pretty is any less momentuous.

you plus me by mangoedges (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 489 words)

Summary: 5up and Steve meet.

he said to me by mangoedges (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 656 words)

Summary: 5up and Steve share a moment.

by the snowmen by mangoedges (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 670 words)

Summary: Steve has a moment when it's all over.

today you got to know me (a little bit too slowly) by runninohhoney (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 675 words)

Summary: Steve lights up a cigarette. 5up doesn't smoke.

what would it take by mangoedges (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 787 words)

Summary: It's Steve's first mission. He hecks up. Or does he?

sorta cute by floweruru (5up/Steve, unrated, m/m | 822 words)

Summary: ‘I wouldn’t do that,’ he said. ‘That’s just disrespectful,’ he said. Yet there was 5up, crushed like a can in Steve’s embrace, feebly kicking at nothing as his feet leave the pavement.

i was gonna kill u, but ur kinda cute?? by Cthulhuer (5up/Steve, general rating, m/m | 1k words)

Summary: Steve is a mess and 5up is worse.

I hear a Symphony by AwkwardAce (5up/Fundy, unrated, m/m | 1.1k words)

Summary: He exhaled until his lungs ached for air, fingers twitching as he opted to remove the sleek white gloves he wore in a feeble effort to soothe himself. It didn’t work. He wrung his trembling hands together as his eyes raked down the worn leather case taking in the doodles- some etched some drawn- across the faded surface. He snapped the buckles open and his breath hitched, catching in his already tight throat. For a moment the world span, his head throbbed and he wanted nothing more than to run and hide. 5up breathed out slowly, shakily.

staring by lytriis (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 1.1k words)

Summary: steve asks 5up out. 5up doesn’t know how to respond.

and it's four am, and yet, you're here by vesque (5up/Steve, general rating, m/m | 1.2k words)

Summary: in which steve shows up at 5up's house, in the middle of the night, completely spontaneously

more than this by mangoedges (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 1.2k words)

Summary: Steve catches 5up venting.

3:15 by vesque (5up/Steve, general rating, m/m | 1.2k words)

Summary: Steve tries to guess Five's name. It's much more difficult than he anticipated.

things were different by fourpebbles (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 1.5k words)

Summary: His eyes circled around to his friends, Kimi and Janet engaging in pleasant comversation, sleepy and becoming increasingly more sober. He looked, finally, across him, and caught Dumbdog staring at him. What now bro, what did this guy want. small talk, turns into not small talk, then there's no talk

Once Upon A Dream by SmearedWords (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 1.5k words)

Summary: 5up looks ethereal, while Steve is struggling to breathe. "You're not real either." Or: Steve has a crush and a nightmare in three parts, 5up is tired, the crew life is hard and Polus sucks.

the ones you love will call you back by homeward_bound (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 1.8k words)

Summary: stevesuptic: dude, is it weird that i miss vegas   DumbDog: No? I do too.   stevesuptic: okay [steve misses vegas and apollo. they talk about it]

cough it out by cj__writes (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 2k words)

Summary: Apollo thinks that Steve must be well and truly gone, at this point, because he giggles, like Apollo’s just told a particularly funny joke. He looks Apollo right in the eye and asks, “Do you trust me?” “Absolutely not.”

ivy by Secular_Czar (5up/Steve, teen rating, gen | 2.1k words)

Summary: It might be a sad day, in general, but Steve isn't about to let it get to him. His friends won't ever let him wallow either.

The Colosseum by WhenTheFogClears (general rating, gen | 2.1k words)

Summary: Five squinted, looking at the colosseum intensely. He thinks Apollo was latched onto the sphinx’s shoulder, fur matted with blood. Janet was slumped against a column, probably out, with Kimi whose bow was snapped in two, her leg twisted at an odd angle. DK was in the corner trying to cast various supporting hexes and charms with a broken arm, whilst Hafu was dragging a heavily bandaged Steve away. or 5up slaughters a cat

Oneshots :) by woofles1990 (5up/Fundy, 5up/Steve, teen rating, multi | 2.5k words, oneshot collection)

Summary: Just a bunch of MCYT/Among Us oneshots, mainly featuring 5up's crew because yes :)

the adventures of 5up and steve staying up late because they're under 30 by 5280ft (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 2.5k words)

Summary: “The night is young!” Steve yells at the ceiling, throwing his hands up in the air. “Take advantage of it! Commit crimes! Fuck hoes!” Five catches his hands in the air and laughs. “You wish you had hoes.”

unreasonably in love by cj__writes (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 2.6k words, chaptered WIP)

Summary: "It was like pieces of a puzzle, everything coming together. And now, here they are, standing in their apartment, which looks more like a hollow shell than a home, filled solely with scattered boxes and the minuscule amount of furniture that they brought with them to Vegas." Or: what happens after Apollo and Steve move in together.

cant be love by fourpebbles (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 3.5 words, chaptered WIP)

Summary: He had chuckled to himself, he felt so stupid. Who in their fucking minds names a playlist 'sugr?', he thought, internally cringing. A story where a Steve meets an Apollo, and some things happen.

Somewhere in the darkness, us together for a while by tumtummeke (Apollo & Kimi & Steve, teen rating, gen | 3.6k words)

Summary: Apollo worries about Steve. Steve breaks his vape pen. Kimi plays power washer. Self-indulgent angst, with a generous helping of friendship and cuddles.

odyssey by 5280ft (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 23k words, chaptered WIP)

Summary: "First you will come to the Sirens who enchant all who come near them. If any one unwarily draws in too close and hears the singing of the Sirens...they warble him to death with the sweetness of their song. Therefore pass these Sirens by and stop your men's ears with wax that none of them may hear." -Homer, The Odyssey

Also: SilverSprinklez10‘s yupwaves collection.

Summary: This is a Harry Potter AU based on the characters/personas of the youtubers/streamers.

FAQ:

Wait what is this: pretty straight to the point! i’ll regularly share crewfu-related fanfictions to this blog :)

How regularly is “regularly”?: great question! LOL. it depends on the flow of fanfics that get uploaded, which i do not have any control over, but i’m looking forward to do this twice a month. after all, it’s only me doing this and i often run on a tight schedule.

What’s the format like?:

[title of fic with link] by [author of the fic with link] ([main pairing(s), if there is one/multiple], [fic rating: eg, general rating], [relationship: eg, m/m] | [word count in k] ([added prompt to specify if it’s complete or not)])

Summary: [summary provided by the author. if it doesn’t have a summary, a “No summary” prompt will be put instead]

(What does WIP mean again?): Work In Progress :)

Why are you doing this?: from the beginning, my blog has hosted conversations about RPF (real people fiction) and crewfu pairings. this has evolved into people sending me updates about certain fics in the crewfu tags every now and then, but i wanna take the next step and just do these things myself. after all, i’m already lurking in the tags often to see the fics that get posted. as someone who is both a writer and a reader, i wanna appreciate fanfic writers and help out other people that want to read fanfic and consume more fandom content!

Will it be AO3 only?: well, ao3 has a very helpful tag system that makes finding fics incredibly easy, as well as allowing people with no accounts to like and comment on fics, so that’s the site i will personally look in for fanworks. but if there are any fics you’ve written or liked in any other platforms, such as wattpad, you can always contact me through my inbox (send an ask or a dm!), and i’ll make sure to include for the next fanfic spotlight :)

Does it mean you won’t reply to fic asks anymore?: yeah, i guess. since i’ll be doing the searching myself it seems counterproductive. but if i ever skip a fic or again, it’s in another platform, or you’ve posted/read the fic a while ago and you want to get more traction on it, hit me up and i’ll take it into consideration!

Will you read every single one of the fics on your list?: oh no. again, i run on a tight schedule, and also i have my own taste when it comes to fics. i won’t be reviewing fics or any of the sort, and my intention extends to simply sharing these fics to this page so people will have easier access to them :) that’s where ao3 tagging becomes SUPER useful!!!

So what’s the criteria for the way you’ll sort out the fics in your list?: word count, going from lowest to highest. in case of fics in other platforms, i guess i’ll put them at the top of the list. i’ll also be looking for fairly recent fics, so let me know if you want any old-ish fic to be included.

I see you talking mostly about 5up/Steve and Steve/Apollo. Can I still send/see other crewfu fics?: why yes absolutely! my goal is to push every fic which heavily features regular crewfu characters - 5uptic and supdog just happen to be very popular pairings. so, to give you a list: core 4 (5up, hafu, dk, steve), apollo, aipha, annie, janet, kimi, ellum, koji... you know the drill. it doesn’t have to be centered on a relationship, or about 5up in specific, etc. my only requirement is that any of the previously mentioned members are a central part of the fic or are HEAVILY featured in it (sorry, minecraft fics with 50+ tags who only mention 5up as an afterthought won’t make the cut :/).

Isn’t shipping Bad™?: well, it’s a little more nuanced than that. i will go out of my way to discourage and shame people who often violate CCs’ boundaries by acting like so and so has a crush on this person, or that this and that are Actually Into Each Other or secretly dating. any sort of tinhat bullshit is a big nono (think larries). but i run on the assumption that people who write rpf understand that what they’re doing is simply write a completely fictional story using real life personalities, and understand the boundaries necessary to do it - aka they’re not tinhats, they understand they can’t assume everything about CCs’ thoughts and personalities, they understand that what they’re writing is strictly fiction, they keep these works only in fandom circles, etc. (but again, it’s only one me doing this, so please be kind if i don’t happen to know that this person is Actually a tinhat or whatever).

show fic: NO. (seriously. i don’t feel comfortable putting my ao3 account out there. please respect my privacy on these trying times <3)

I REALLY don’t care about your rpf/fic talk: fair! i’ll be tagging every single one of these posts as “fanfic spotlight”, so just mute the tag using tumblr settings so you’ll never have to look at these! likewise, you can follow the tag if you want to keep up with it, or search it on my blog to look at the other entries you might have missed (but this is the first one! lol).

Hey, my fic is here and I don’t feel comfortable with it being shared over here: no problem! let me know as soon as you can and i’ll take it down <3

[smaidjor]

i know they're losing (chapter 3)

Hello everyone! Welcome back to your favorite(/j) hot mess of a fic. Sorry this chapter took a little longer to post, I thought I'd give you all a bit of time to recover from that last one. Plus, I was working on Scott's POV of this (which will be posted soon, don't worry!) Anyways, enjoy the fic!

(Once again obligatory disclaimer this is characters not people, don't ship real people, etc.)

(Also a disclaimer that I am not a medical professional and any medicine portrayed in this fic is likely inaccurate. Do not follow any medical procedures used in this fic, as I did absolutely 0 research to confirm any of this.)

Chapter Title: I turn at last to paths that lead home

Chapter Wordcount: 3214

Content warnings: blood, canon-typical violence

AO3 Link

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Actual fic under the cut:

The next morning dawns bright, sunny, and with a looming sense of unease that Jimmy can’t seem to shake. Scott’s ring feels heavy on his finger despite the resolution they reached yesterday, and he shifts anxiously as he waits for his husband to wake up. The sun’s well over the horizon and Scott still isn’t up, which only makes him more anxious. Usually, Scott’s an early riser. Today, though, he’s sleeping like the dead, and the scar on his throat doesn’t help the effect. Something is wrong. Jimmy doesn’t know how or why he knows it, but something is wrong and why is Scott still sleeping?

Finally, Jimmy can’t take it any longer. “Scott? Scott, wake up,” he whispers.

Nothing.

“Scott! Wake up!”

His husband is still firmly unconscious, and Jimmy’s heart leaps into his throat as he begs one more time. “Scott? Please?”

Scott rolls over and blinks at him, thank god, his voice coming out thick with sleep. “Five more minutes, darling.”

“I think something’s wrong,” Jimmy urges. “It feels wrong. Really wrong.”

That gets his love to sit up, rubbing at his eyes. There are still dark circles visible under them, and Jimmy gets a rush of guilt for waking him. “What is it?”

“I don’t know. It’s alright, go back to sleep.”

“No, no, I trust your gut.” Scott gets out of bed with only a slight stumble, sliding on his cloak in one graceful movement. “Let’s go look, and if it’s nothing then I’ll sleep more, okay?”

Jimmy nods, hurrying after him. “I have a really terrible feeling, Scott. Be careful, please.”

“I should be telling that to you.”

“Hey, I’ve gotten more careful!”

Scott laughs, looking more alive than he has in months, but quickly sobers again as they reach the front door. “You’re right, Jimmy. Something isn’t right.”

“I know, it feels awful!”

“Mhm.” Scott snatches up a frankly ridiculous axe from nearby, a shimmering pink monstrosity that’s twice the size of Jimmy’s head. “Stay behind me, just in case.”

The door creaks as it swings open, and the source of Jimmy’s unease becomes immediately clear.

Across the valley is the demon, standing next to Scott’s enchanting tower.

“That’s the demon!” Jimmy hisses, once he gets his racing heart under control. “Right there by the tower!”

Scott looks like someone just killed a cat in front of him, an odd sort of heartbreak flashing across his face before it’s replaced with determination. “That?”

“Yes!”

“Right. Okay. Jimmy, I need you to listen to exactly what I say right now. If I say get down, you get down. If I say run, you run and don’t look back no matter what you hear. Can you do that?”

Jimmy looks at the elf who very nearly broke his heart, and chooses to put that heart right back in Scott’s hands. “I trust you. If you say run, I’ll run.”

“Alright. Give me your engagement ring.”

“Wh-”

“Trust me. Please.”

Jimmy hands it over.

Scott slides it onto his finger. His hands are a little smaller than Jimmy’s, and it only fits on his right middle finger. Which would normally be cute, but right now Jimmy is just terrified. “Okay, Jimmy. I’m about to go out the front door, and when I do, I need you to go out the side door over there and run for the stables. When you get there, roll in the mud and then run for the village. Speed over stealth, corrupted elves track by smell and sound rather than sight.”

Jimmy nods.

“From there,” Scott continues, “I need you to track down an elf called Gilnar and tell them to lock down the kingdom and warn everyone of the danger. I also need you to tell them that Lord Smajor orders them to protect you.”

“What about you? Will you be okay?”

“I will, I promise.”

Jimmy knows Scott’s lying because Scott could never properly lie, not when it’s to Jimmy. He always looks away, no matter how steady his voice stays. Jimmy says nothing about it, but he grabs a spare sword and prays he’ll be quick enough to save Scott if it all goes downhill.

Scott hefts the axe. “Ready?”

Jimmy isn’t, but he nods. “Ready.”

Scott steps out the door, calling out something in some elven language that sounds like a challenge. At the same time, Jimmy bolts out the side door, sprinting for a low building which he thinks is the barn.

Somehow, he gets there without incident, and he throws himself into the mud without hesitation. The farrier gives him a deeply weird look, which Jimmy ignores in favor of sprinting for the village. The altitude means he’s out of breath by the time he gets there, hurrying inside the walls. The elves give him strange looks, a few seeming rather judgemental. Jimmy tries not to flush, remembering Scott’s instructions.

“Excuse me?” He asks the nearest elf. “I’m looking for uh, Gilnar?”

They stare him down, raising a single eyebrow. “For what reason?”

“Scott- Lord Smajor sent me.”

In the background, there’s a cry of pain, which thankfully sounds demonic rather than elven.

“Gilnar should be that way.”

“Thank you, uh, gentleperson!” Jimmy hurries that way, stopping another villager. “Are you Gilnar?”

The look he gets is even stranger. “Do I look like a captain of the guard to you? No. What do you want Gilnar for anyways?”

“Scott told me to find them.”

“Then that’s them over there,” the elf tells him, pointing out an incredibly short elf with neatly plaited brown hair.

“Thank you!”

Gilnar looks up at his approach, seemingly unbothered by the mud. “Lord Codfather, right? Scott sent ya?”

“He said to tell you to lock down the kingdom,” Jimmy reports faithfully. “He also said you should protect me, or something like that, but I don’t really need- I’ll be fine is the point.”

“Riiiiight. Calros!”

A tall elf appears behind them.

“Protect the codfather, Lord Scott’d be a bit put out if he died, I think. Alqualoth!” Another elf appears. “I need you to help me get everythin’ locked down.” With that, Gilnar hurries away, a few elves falling into formation behind them.

“So….this is awkward,” Calros, the tall elf, offers.

Jimmy ignores them in favor of running to the edge of the cliff the village is built on, trying to catch a glimpse of Scott. He’s rewarded only with the sight of his husband dueling a demon, which isn’t exactly what anyone wants to see at 8 o’clock in the morning. At least Scott doesn’t seem to be entirely overwhelmed, but the demon has far too much of the upper hand for Jimmy’s comfort.

“Whoa, whoa, let a girl catch up,” Calros yelps. She doesn’t seem very dignified for an elf, but Jimmy’s not very dignified for a human, so he understands. “So, uh...how’s Codland?”

Unfortunately for Calros and her well-meaning questions, at that moment, Scott starts screaming. It takes a moment for Jimmy to even register the sound as Scott’s voice; he’s never heard Scott scream before. It’s a high, broken noise, pure pain in every note as the demon pins Scott to the mountainside. Jimmy doesn’t think there’s anything he wouldn’t give to never have to hear that noise again, which is why he jumps the wall at the edge of the village.

“No, wait!” Calros yells.

Jimmy’s already gone, landing awkwardly on the other side. He hardly feels the pain of what’s surely a twisted ankle, sprinting for the scene of the fight. The sword flies into his hand, the gleam of enchantment shimmering bright. He doesn’t have a single second to think about what he’s doing as he opens his mouth to shout. “Hey, demon thing! Yeah, you! You’re ugly! And you probably smell bad!”

The being turns its head in a way that’s far too human for Jimmy’s comfort, and thank god, Scott stops screaming. “What did you say to me?” It hisses.

Jimmy’s heart is beating in his throat, palms sweaty as he scrapes together the few remaining bits of his courage. “I said you’re ugly! And you suck! Leave my husband alone!”

The demon loosens their hold, rage twisting their smile into something even more terrifying, and Scott backhands them across the face, kicking his way free. Jimmy watches as he struggles to his feet, the ring gleaming on his hand.

Scott cries something in some elven tongue, and the demon hisses.

He calls out another word, a command, and the ring glows with a light of its own as the demon is forced back, inch by inch. Finally, it flies backwards and vanishes entirely.

Scott sinks to his knees, cradling the hand with the ring on it, and Jimmy breaks into a run again.

“Scott! Scott!”

His husband looks up at him with haunted eyes, face bruised and battered, a little blood trickling down his brow. His teeth are bared, just a little sharp, and there’s something desperate about the way he whispers Jimmy’s name, his voice hoarse from screaming.

Jimmy kneels by him quickly, looking for any major injuries. “What’s wrong? Where- what’s hurt? I’ll fix it, I promise, I-” he’s cut off by Scott yanking him into a desperate hug, burying his face in Jimmy’s shoulder.

“Oh,” Jimmy says weakly. He wraps his arms around Scott in return, running a soothing hand up and down Scott’s back as he feels the elf tremble. “It’s alright, Scott, we’re alright.”

“Jimmy,” Scott says again. “Jimmy, I can’t.”

“I-”

“I want it to be over. I don’t want elves or nations or politics. I just want you.”

“I know, I know,” Jimmy soothes.

‘Why does it have to be me? It wasn’t supposed to be! It wasn’t supposed to be me!” Scott sounds almost angry, but the words quickly dissolve into incoherent sobs and fragments of sentences. “I- please- shouldn’t have- Jimmy. Jimmy.” He repeats Jimmy’s name over and over, hands clutching the fabric of Jimmy’s shirt, and Jimmy has never felt so helpless. All he can do is whisper empty comforts, kissing the top of Scott’s head and holding him close.

Elves have begun to surround them, varying looks of concern or disgust on their faces. Jimmy glares up at all of them, daring them to say something.

“Uh, milord?” Gilnar starts, and that’s the final straw.

“Give him a goddamn minute!” Jimmy snaps, rage bubbling up under his skin. “He just fought a demon for all of you, let the man rest! I know you’re all elves and you’re all- all elegant and composed or whatever, but you can’t expect someone to be perfect! We’re all human, you know!”

One of the elves gives him a look of disdain. “You are human, Codfather. We are not. Lord Smajor knew the responsibilities and difficulties of ruling.”

“He’s too young for this,” Jimmy thinks he hears someone mutter, but he’s too angry to bother paying attention.

“I- well I don’t think anyone could have expected a demon! And probably even less people’d be willing to fight one! Scott’s one of the bravest, kindest, smartest people I know, so lay off him, will you?”

“You know nothing of the affairs of elves,” the same elf sniffs.

Jimmy’s about to open his mouth and inform them that he knows about the affairs of being a decent person, for goodness sake, but he’s cut off by Scott raising his head, his sobs subsiding into ragged breathing. “It’s fine, Jimmy. They are correct, I do have responsibilities.”

“They can’t expect you to be perfect,” Jimmy argues, but there’s no dissuading Scott as he staggers to his feet.

“Gilnar, get the village out of lockdown and make sure people are aware of the threat of Xornoth. Celebear, search the library for any books on corruption of elves, and Lauriel, translate any you find that are not Sindarin into it. Elder council, I need research done on any rings of power that are strong enough to counteract Vilya to that degree, that will narrow down what Xornoth has. Now, the Codfather and I need to negotiate wool and fish trades,” Scott adds, grabbing Jimmy’s hand. Jimmy yelps, startled, as Scott drags him off with inhuman strength.

They make it up the hill and into Scott’s house before Scott slumps, collapsing into one of the kitchen chairs. “Well, fuck me to the End and back,” he groans.

“Are they always like that?” Jimmy asks, worried.

“Pretty much. Gilnar’s okay, just tough as shit, and so are Celebear and Lauriel, but...I wasn’t- well, I wasn’t meant to inherit Rivendell, and the Council of Elders takes every opportunity to remind me of that fact.”

“Oh. Who’s Xornoth?”

Scott laughs, a bitter, exhausted sound. “My twin, also known as the demon that’s been terrorizing you.”

At first, Jimmy thinks he’s misheard. “What?”

“My twin. My older sibling. The person who was supposed to inherit the throne of the elves.”

“What?”

Scott sighs. “Let me start from the beginning. My parents were two elven monarchs, one of the Sindar, and one of the Noldor. With other bloodlines mixed in, but the Sindar and Noldor is the important bit since those two groups haven’t always gotten along. Somewhere around fifty-five years ago, they started trying for kids. What they didn’t expect was that Xornoth and I are identical twins, only the fifth set of elven twins ever recorded.”

“Whoa.”

“Mhm. Xornoth was- is- technically the older one, who was always set to inherit the throne of the elves and unite our divided people. They were compared to Elrond, wise and powerful leader of another land named Rivendell far in the past, and I was Elros, his twin. Impulsive, snarky, human.” Scott closes his eyes, looking as if it pains him to talk about this. “Our parents died when we were both quite young, and we were brought up expecting Xornoth to take the throne as soon as they came of age. I spent my time hanging out with mortals, instead, getting involved in things like mcc and 3rd life.”

“Ohhh,” Jimmy says intelligently.

Scott nods tensely. “When I was the elven equivalent of seventeen or so, Xornoth gave me a ring. This ring, specifically,” he says, tapping Jimmy’s engagement ring. “Vilya, an elven ring of power. They told me to leave Rivendell and not return.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t know at the time, but they were being corrupted by a ring of their own, not to mention their own desire for power.” Scott’s voice shakes a little, and Jimmy takes his hand in comfort. “I returned after coming of age while away to find that Xornoth had fled and I was now the heir of Rivendell. Which absolutely no one wanted.”

“Why not? You’re amazing!” Jimmy protests.

“Remember when I told you that I’m not a very elven elf? That. I’m too human for their tastes, spend too much of my time with humans.”

“Well, I think you’re wonderful.”

Scott squeezes his hand tight, a faint, fond smile creeping onto his face. “Thank you, Jimmy. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Jimmy replies, and then something Scott said catches up with him. “Wait. Scott?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Did you give me an elven ring of power for an engagement ring?”

“….Maybe.”

Jimmy’s torn between laughter and outrage. “Me! You gave me, little old Jimmy Solidarity, an elven ring of power?”

“You’re the most precious thing in my life. I gave you everything I could offer.”

Jimmy flushes immediately, feeling his cheeks heat with the compliment. It’s not fair that Scott can make him lose all his remaining braincells with just a simple sentence, it really isn’t! “Stop that!”

“Stop what?” Scott asks innocently.

“Saying that stuff and giving me that look, you know what I mean! That soft one that- that makes me all blushy and stuttery!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He’s smirking. He definitely knows exactly what he’s doing, and Jimmy would hate him for it if he was even capable of hating Scott.

“I’m trying to scold you for giving me a ring of power that’s super important, stop- stop flirting, for goodness sake!”

“You’re hot when you’re flustered, though.” The charming words would be a lot more effective if Scott didn’t also choose that moment to try and wipe the blood off his forehead, only succeeding in smearing blood everywhere and reminding Jimmy to be worried about him.

“Let me get that,” Jimmy offers, looking around for a rag. Scott patiently lets him fuss, and Jimmy dabs at the cut with a wet rag and bandages it carefully. He moves on to cleaning out smaller cuts and scrapes, then the bruises, handing Scott some ice to put on the largest ones. Even then, he’s not fully satisfied until he makes Scott count backward from 100 to prove he hasn’t hit his head too hard.

“Ninety-two, ninety-one, I swear I’m fine, Jimmy, ninety, eighty-nine, eighty-eight, eighty-seven, I literally explained elven rings of power to you, eighty-six, eight-five, can I stop counting now?”

“No.”

“Jimmyyyyyyyy,” Scott whines.

“Just a bit more? For me?” It’s a dirty trick, but Jimmy gives him the puppy dog eyes that he knows Scott can’t say no to.

He’s rewarded with a long-suffering sigh and “Fine. Eighty-four, eighty-three, eighty-two…”

Jimmy makes him count all the way down to seventy and then multiply together thirteen and twelve before he’s satisfied, ignoring Scott’s complaining about having to do math so early in the morning.

“I can’t believe my own husband made me do math.”

Jimmy laughs and bops him on the nose. “I’ll make breakfast to make up for it?”

“You better!” Scott says, but he’s smiling too.

Jimmy makes them both pancakes, firmly ignoring the lingering fear from the demon attack, not to mention all the revelations from this morning. Those are problems for future Jimmy. Present Jimmy is going to scold his husband for sneaking bits of pancake batter (“It doesn’t even taste good, Scott!”) and drink hot chocolate in a beautiful little kitchen with the love of his life. None of that demon nonsense, no thank you. Just hot chocolate and pancakes and the sound of Scott’s laughter as he teases Jimmy about smelling like fish. Which is a perfectly fine smell, thank you very much, Scott, why are you laughing?

Every so often, he pauses and admires the bracelet that’s still on his wrist, running his fingers over the elegantly shaped flowers. This must have taken Scott so long to make, and he did it all for Jimmy. He gave Jimmy a ring of power, for goodness sake! Jimmy doesn’t think he’ll ever be over the thrill of how it feels to be so loved and to know it, too. To know Scott loved him back in 3rd life and loves him now and will love him for the rest of Jimmy’s mortal lifespan and beyond. He can’t quite wrap his head around it, honestly, but it’s not a bad thing, not at all. How could having Scott in his life ever be a bad thing? He thinks- knows, as well as he knows his own self- that whatever happens next, he and Scott can face it together.

[edie-k]

Greener Pastures (Lavender Brown/Mystery Character, Romione, Hinny, Deamus, PG-13)

Title: Greener Pastures

Pairing: Lavender Brown/Mystery Character, Romione, Hinny, Deamus, Past Lavender/Ron, Past Lavender/Seamus

Rating: PG-13 for language

Summary: At Harry and Ginny's engagement party, Lavender bemoans her single status to a mystery man.

Author's Note: Well, here's an obscure ship for you. Thanks to @adenei for her feedback and kind words!

*************

“I think that proves that for all the complaining I’ve done, Harry, I mean it when I say you are the only one I thought was good enough for my sister,” Ron said from the front of the room, to a chorus of laughter. “So let’s raise a glass to the newly engaged couple!”

From her seat at the bar, Lavender made a face and threw back the remaining contents of her tumblr. Parvati, who was seated next to her, joined the crowd in applauding and cheering Harry and Ginny.

Click below to read more or read at AO3

“That was a nice speech,” commented Parvati.

“Oh, just the best,” muttered Lavender, trying to catch the bartender’s eye.

Parvati shook her head. “I just spotted Adam’s sister. I wanted to ask her about what the expectations are for dress code and stuff at his grandmother’s. All Adam said when I asked him was ‘Whatever’s fine.’ We’re going abroad to meet an entire side of your family I have never met in all the time we’ve been together and you’re telling me whatever is fine.”

“Mmm hmm,” Lavender said, still trying to signal for a drink.

“Are you going to be okay if I-”

“Yes, yes,” said Lavender, sighing. “I’m fine. Sorry if I’m being a drag. Just… that news earlier and then all this… happiness. Go get the dish from Mara so we can go shopping tomorrow.”

Parvati squeezed her friend’s arm before hopping off the stool and wading through the crowd to find Mara. The bartender finally made his way over to her and began to mix her another drink without a word.

At least Adam was out of town on business for the weekend so Lavender didn’t have to third wheel with her best friend and her boyfriend. Because that would have been the only thing more depressing than going to an engagement party with your platonic best friend.

The bartender nudged the glass back to her and she nodded her head in thanks as he made his way back down the bar.

“Is this seat taken?”

Lavender glanced up and met the gaze of a man she’d never seen before.

“Uh, no, be my guest,” she said. “Although be warned that I am shitty company.”

The man chuckled as he sat down on the stool. “I highly doubt that but I’m game to find out.”

Lavender looked at him again. She didn’t recognize him, which was shocking because even though the venue was full, Lavender had thought she would know everyone here. Harry and Ginny were obviously incredibly popular so they had kept tight controls on who was included on the guest list.

The man signaled for the bartender and Lavender took the opportunity to give him a once over. The guy was huge - not in an overweight or bodybuilder type way. He was just tall and solid. Other than her first boyfriend, her preference was tall guys. She was 5”8’ herself and preferred to wear heels when she could so aesthetically, it was nice for her companion to have some height. Nice eyes, cute face. He had dark blond hair and was dressed in a dark blue Muggle button down shirt and black trousers with no robes. Since the war had ended, Muggle style had become popular with the wizards in her age group. Harry, who was raised by Muggles, was always more comfortable in that style of clothing and Ron, who she knew was dressed primarily by Hermione and Hermione’s mum, followed suit. And whatever that little Trio did, everyone else did and for Merlin’s sake, Ron Weasley was now a fucking fashion icon. Lavender took a big swig of her drink.

“It’s a nice party,” said the man. Lavender nodded as the bartender approached. “I’ll have whatever she’s having.”

The bartender made another drink before placing it in front of the man. He went to reach for his pocket when Lavender noticed a look of panic cross his face. Before she could say anything, the bartender waved him away. “Mr. Potter has the tab covered tonight.”

“Well,” he said, his face relaxed again. He turned back to Lavender. “Should we follow Red’s instructions and toast the happy couple?” The two clinked glasses. “It was a nice speech.”

Lavender snorted.

“You disagree?”

“I’d have thought his wife wrote it for him but there was too much swearing for her to have had a hand,” Lavender said. Then she wiped the palms of her hands down her face. “Ugh, ignore me. It actually was a very touching and funny speech. I’m just in an ugly mood and I have a bit of a history with Ron so I’m being mean for no reason.”

“You dated him?” the man guessed. She nodded. “Huh, he said in the speech that he’d loved his wife since he was 13.”

“And I dated him when we were 16 so…”

“Hence the ugliness,” finished the man.

“Hence the ugliness,” Lavender repeated. “I’m over it, really. Hermione and I shared a room for six years and are better friends now than we ever were at school. As for Ron, that was just some stupid school kid bullshit on both our parts. It’s more that I didn’t realize that my only opportunity to find love was going to be at Hogwarts. If I had known that, I’d have made better choices or… maybe taken Arithmancy to secure a better paying job to support my lonely life.”

“What do you mean?” the man asked.

“Everyone I know, they’re married or engaged or about to be engaged to the person that they dated at Hogwarts. Harry and Ginny dated at school, Neville and Hannah somehow started to date during our last year during the war. My best friend Parvati and her boyfriend dated our sixth year at Hogwarts and then he fled with his Muggle family overseas but they started right back up again when he came back to England. See that girl over there, the pregnant one?”

The man nodded.

“That’s Parvati’s sister. That’s her second kid cooking. She’s married to her prefect partner, Anthony. I guess technically, Ron and Hermione didn’t date at Hogwarts but -”

“He’s loved her since he was 13,” the man said amused.

“Yeah. I’m the only one that couldn’t make it out with a relationship intact.” she moaned, taking another drink.

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

Lavender took another long drink and contemplated his statement. “You know what? You’re right. Ginny, she also had a relationship that didn’t work out. Do you see that tall bloke over in the corner that she’s talking to?”

The man glanced in the direction Lavender was referring to. “Uh, yeah.”

“That’s Dean. He was the guy that Ginny dated before Harry. Now, do you see that cute little Irishman standing next to Dean?”

The man nodded.

“That’s Seamus. He was my ex-boyfriend before Ron. And now he’s Dean’s husband. Met in school, by the way.”

“Oh,” said the man, taken aback.

Lavender narrowed her eyes. “Do you have a problem with that? Because despite the fact that Seamus is just one more example of my inability to keep a boyfriend, I will defend those men and their amazing relationship to the death from any bigot that threatens it.”

“No, no!” the man sputtered. “I’m just… I went to an all-boys school and I knew gay guys but they all hid it and I’m just not used to people being open about it. It’s fine - more than fine. Good for them! I mean, hey, they found each other and are leaving more beautiful women for the rest of us, right?”

“Merlin, I wish I could find a beautiful woman,” Lavender moaned, burying her face in her hands. The bartender seemed to take this as a signal that she needed another drink and provided her with a refill.

“Oh, are you… interested in women?” she heard him ask.

“No,” she moaned. “You must think I’m insane.” Lavender put both her hands on the man’s arm that was closest to her. “I promise that I am not hung up on some school romance from five years ago. It’s just that, if you knew Seamus or Ron at Hogwarts… did you know Seamus or Ron at Hogwarts?”

The man shook his head.

“Okay, so if you knew them, you would know that they were both totally immature prats. After I broke up with Seamus, I thought he was the worst boyfriend ever. He was always running off to spend time with his mates, talking about Quidditch, no interest in spending time with me, dumb jokes. But then, then I dated Ron, who was even worse than him. The only thing he wanted to do with me was snog and I think that was some weird power move with Hermione or his sister… who knows. I have to be way more drunk to psychoanalyze Ron Weasley. Anyway, the last month we were together, he didn’t even try to hide the fact that he wanted to ditch me for Hermione but was just too much of a coward. And yet somehow, both of those idiots ended up married before me! And it’s not like they got married to some random person that they knocked up after a one night stand. Ron eloped with his wonderful, talented, brilliant best friend that he was in love with all through school and the entire time we were dating and Seamus… oh for Godric’s sake.”

Lavender paused in her tirade for a moment. “Seamus also married his wonderful, talented, brilliant best friend that he was probably in love with all through school AND the entire time we were dating. How am I just realizing that?” Lavender groaned, banging her head on the bar.

“Can wizards knock up other wizards?” asked the man. Lavender looked up at him and burst into laughter.

“Oh, thank you for that,” she giggled. “I was spiralling.”

“Uh, yeah, no worries,” said the man, shifting in his seat.

“It’s just that this dating stuff is really hard. The wizarding world is so small, you know? I think it’s why everyone locks in with their soulmate at school, ” Lavender commiserated.

“Have you ever considered dating like, outside the wizarding world?” the man asked.

Lavender shook her head. “How could I? It’s tough enough here. After all the Prophet spotlights on battle injuries and such, everyone knows how I got all these awful scars on my face but it still takes a certain type of man to look past them. And I’m sure there are Muggles that aren't shallow about them either but they would ask how I got them. How would I explain them to a Muggle? I can’t just say ‘Oh during a war at my school, a werewolf tried to rip me to shreds. But don’t worry, I’m not a werewolf although I have some side effects from it.’ They’d think I was insane.”

“Uh, yeah, that does sound a bit… daunting,” the man admitted, looking a bit pale.

“I mean, I’m still a catch. I’m funny, I have a great rack, I make excellent scones, and I’m amazing in bed.” At that comment, she heard the man next to her choke a little and she stifled a smile to continue on. “And even if I could get away with not explaining it to a man, once I meet his family, there’s no way. In my experience, mothers are always trying to find a reason to hate the woman that’s dating their special baby boy. I can’t imagine a Muggle mother taking very kindly to a literal witch with werewolf scars.”

“Yes,” sighed the man before giving a little chuckle. “I can certainly see that. And with all of the, you know, war stuff, I can see where you wish you had a school sweetheart.”

Lavender shook her head and drained the rest of her drink. “Seamus and Ron are just easy targets. I really am not hung up on them. This is about Don.”

“Who’s Don?”

“Don is my last boyfriend. We dated exclusively for eight months and he was so fun and thoughtful and generous. But he never said I love you. He kept telling me that he was too young to settle down and, I believed that he thought that. I really did. So we split in December because we wanted different things.”

“Ah,” said the man. “Seems sensible.”

“And then this morning, I see it in The Daily Prophet.”

“See what?”

“His engagement announcement,” she wailed, throwing herself on the bar again and almost upsetting her glass.

The man patted her on the shoulder. “Oh God, I’m sorry.”

“Do you know how long they’ve been dating?” Lavender asked.

“Eight months?” ventured the man.

“FIVE!” Lavender cried.

“Maybe he knocked her up?” suggested the man.

Lavender looked up at him and burst into laughter again. “Merlin, you’re funny. Why am I whinging about all these dolts I’ve surrounded myself with when I should get to know you better?”

“Yeah?” said the man with a grin.

“Yes,” she said. “I mean, if you want-”

“Of course,” he interrupted. “A funny, beautiful woman wants to get to know me better - the answer is always yes. I do need a refill. Do you want one? You’re not driving home, are you?”

Lavender giggled.

The man shook his head and looked embarrassed. “Oh, right, you wouldn’t be driving. You would uh - ”

“You must be a Muggle born. Do- I mean, I’ve heard others say that before. Those habits die hard.”

“Actually,” the man took a deep breath. “I’m a Muggle.”

Lavender’s jaw dropped. “How the fuck does a Muggle get invited to the engagement party of the Chosen One and a pureblood Quidditch player?”

“Well, Harry’s my cousin,” the man said. “My name’s Dudley.”

***************

“Do you see that over there?” asked Hermione, nudging Ron. He turned away from his conversation with Neville and Charlie to see what his wife was gesturing to across the room.

“Is that Dudley Dursley chatting up Lavender?” Ron asked, as his eyes landed on the sight before him.

“It appears to be,” said Hermione. “Merlin, they are really flirting. Should we go over there and say something? A warning or...?”

“Right,” said Ron. “Absolutely we should. Which one of them are we warning?”

[chrwrites]

Bad Ideas - Chapter 2: “The first round is free for a lovely couple like you!”

For @astronavigatrix​. Sorry I’m so late with the update, hope you like it!

Ch 1

read on ao3

Luka sighed a breath of relief as he found his seat on the train, and smile settled on his face as he watched the city fade into the distance. He closed his eyes, finally allowing himself to relax.

He was going home.

Exam season was over, and now that he was done with the first year of university, Luka felt like he could breathe again. He still had to wait to get the results, but he could let the nightmare the last weeks had been behind and focus on the familiar warmth that being back in Paris brought instead.

He had been looking forward to staying in the city for more than two days and finally see his friends in a better setting than a rushed meeting, especially Marinette. They did keep in touch while he was away, but it wasn’t the same as seeing each other in person and hanging out like they used to do, not to mention that they barely managed to meet during the short periods of time Luka was back because of Marinette’s busy schedule.

It was rare for them to spend a whole afternoon together, still, Marinette always made sure to be at the train station to say goodbye to him in person. Even when he had to leave early in the morning, she would be there to send him off with a tight hug and fresh out of the oven croissants, “In case you get hungry,” she’d say.

He knew he wouldn't find Marinette welcoming him at Gare de Lyon when he arrived, but he would see her the next day. For now, he was content with seeing his Ma and Juleka waiting for him when he stepped off the train. How long had it been since he last was home? Two months? Juleka didn’t even grumble as he hugged her.

The first thing Luka heard as he got off the car with his sister and Rose was a familiar, happy gasp whose owner he'd have recognised everywhere. He couldn’t hold back the smile curling his lips as he turned to the source of the sound, Marinette’s figure was running towards him in the half empty parking lot and he opened his arms to welcome her.

"I missed you so much!" Marinette’s cheery tone was muffled on his chest, and in answer Luka held her tighter, "I missed you, too," he whispered, his voice thick with an emotion he didn't dare to define.

After Marinette let go of his embrace, Luka tried his best to ignore the sudden cold lingering on his skin and greeted the rest of his and Juleka’s friends before they all headed inside the Jardins de Tuileries.

It didn't take long for the group to split up, everyone eager to try different attractions of the carnival fair first, and Luka and Marinette ended up wandering around the park by themselves.

He listened intently to Marinette rambling about this new fashion course she was taking during the summer, smiling at the enthusiasm clear in her voice and indulging in staring at her for longer than he should have. He couldn’t help but feel drawn to her sweet features despite knowing he shouldn’t have thought about her that way. That was part of the reason he decided to leave Paris after all, to clear his mind and come back not thinking about wanting his friend (and his sister’s friend, for goodness sake) to be something more than that.

"I don't understand why you didn't stay in Paris," Marinette said suddenly, interrupting Luka’s stream of thoughts. He sighed, taking some time to think about the answer.

"I figured it was time for Jules to have the room to herself," he shrugged, his hands sliding into the pockets of his jeans.

Marinette let out a quiet giggle, "Right, but Montpellier is pretty far!" she pouted.

"It takes only three hours to get there with a TGV. Plus, it's unbelievably quiet for a city, and it's only one train stop away from the seaside," Luka said.

Marinette frowned, "Wait— are you telling me that you picked Montpellier because it's close to the sea?”

"... maybe?" Luka shrugged, "I mean, there's also a pretty good university, but you're right. That definitely comes second."

Marinette laughed and shook her head in disbelief, “I don’t even know why I’m surprised, I wouldn’t expect anything less from you!”

There was a moment of silence after that, and Luka's unashamed smile faded as they walked further into the park.

“Do you like it there?” Marinette’s question was unexpected, and Luka hesitated for a second. You're not there.

He shook the thought out of his mind and let out a deep breath before speaking, "Yes, I really like it there. You should come visit me sometime,” he said.

"I’d love to, but I’ll have to find the time for that.”

When Luka nodded in understanding, Marinette added, “See, that’s why you should’ve picked somewhere closer. We could see each other more often!” she teased, bumping her shoulder against his. Luka sighed and before he could answer, Marinette spoke again, suddenly looking serious.

"You know…”, she paused and started fiddling with her bracelet. Only then Luka noticed that she was playing with a small cherry blossom charm, the one he’d gotten for her birthday. He had it delivered since he couldn’t be in Paris that day and he had never seen her wearing it until now. Marinette let go of the bracelet, her arm stilling by her side as she turned to face him.

“It's weird not seeing you on board of the Liberty when I come over," she admitted.

Luka looked down at his feet, one hand going to rub the back of his neck in an attempt to ease the sudden change of pace of his heart, and offered Marinette a bashful smile only when he was sure that his heart wasn't going to jump out of his chest because of the way she was looking at him.

What was happening to him? It's not like he didn't know that Marinette missed him. He knew that, and he missed her too, as much as he missed the blissful afternoons she stayed at the Liberty after band practice, when he would provide a soundtrack to her sketching and she’d end up spending more time talking to him than actually getting her work done. That was probably what he missed the most. But how was he supposed to tell her that when his stomach had started twisting and his hands were sweating?

Maybe he just wasn't used to seeing her that often anymore, things would get back to normal for him now that they could see each other without longing for the next time they would meet again. It’s not like Marinette saying that she was his girlfriend that one time still lingered on him sometimes and he couldn't shake that off.

He took a deep breath, finally facing Marinette and ready to tell her how cute it was that she missed him and how he wished to–

“Do you want to have a go with the Balloon Pop game?” a woman was waving in their direction, a happy welcoming smile on her face as she gestured at the small balloons behind her.

Luka let out a sigh of relief and felt his shoulders relax, thankful for that woman saving him from saying stuff he would have probably regretted.

“The first round is free for a lovely couple like you!” the woman continued.

Actually, forget that.

Marinette giggled at the comment and wrapped her hand around his wrist to pull him towards the stand, and Luka’s feet shuffled against his will, “Marinette…” he protested weakly when he found himself in front of the stand.

“You have to pop at least four balloons to get one prize for your girlfriend”, the woman said.

Luka felt his throat go dry, his brain struggled to get his mouth to move, “I–I'm not– She's–”

“Aw, Lu, come on! We haven’t tried anything yet!” Marinette said cheerfully, her hand wrapping around his arm as she looked at the exposed prizes. She pointed at a teal stuffed snake with huge pink eyes that was standing on the top shelf, “I want that one!”

Luka’s mouth twisted, and Marinette blinked at the confused frown forming on his face. She raised her index to smooth the crease between his eyebrows before pouting, "Please?"

Luka sighed, shaking his head before giving in, "Alright," he said, leaning to the counter.

The woman handed him five darts and winked at him. Luka focused on the target and held his breath until he heard the sound of the first balloon popping and Marinette's happy cheer. He couldn't help the grin spreading on his face, his stomach twisting in an unusually pleasant way. He was happy that she was cheering on him, and that made him only more determined.

He threw the other two darts without much effort and, incredibly enough, both times he managed to make the balloons pop. But when Marinette brushed his arm to soothe his tense muscles, he got distracted and the dart landed right next to the balloon it was supposed to hit.

"Not fair, you've distracted me", he teased, making Marinette roll her eyes and take a step away from him, raising her hands in defeat.

Luka steadied himself, he couldn’t miss his target now. Not when he was almost there, not when that would make Marinette happy. He threw the dart, and heard the last balloon popping instead of watching it. Marinette gasped, but soon enough she was squealing by his side, "I know you could do it!"

The woman at the stand applauded, surprise clear on her face, "Congratulations!" she said, handing the small snake to Marinette, who squeezed it closer to her as she leaned on her tiptoes to give Luka a quick kiss on the cheek, “Thank you!”

That had him smiling like a fool for the rest of the day. Soon after they left the stand and walked further into the park, Marinette sighed, “I can't believe that woman thought we were dating.”

Luka shook his head, “I can't believe that you went on with that anyway.”

“Excuse me?” Marinette asked, raising her head to better look at him, “She said it was free for couples, and this – she proudly held the snake up to his face – was too cute to be left there.”

“I’m just impressed that you can’t lie to save your life but apparently you don’t have any problem when it comes to cute stuffed animals."

“Well, cute animals are worth it," Marinette said, "Besides, these stands are overpriced and rigged. I’m surprised you actually managed to win this without needing a second chance."

Luka giggled, "What can I say, I'm a man of many talents."

They basked in the sun, casually strolling around the park and trying the different attractions. When they got tired of wandering around, they stopped to get some ice cream and rested in the shade of a tree.

The sun flickered on Marinette's midnight hair as she gesticulated about something that had happened at the bakery the previous morning, and Luka tried really hard to focus on what she was saying instead of the way her lips moved or how her hands floated in the air, but no matter how hard he tried, he ended up getting lost in her sweet features, her voice was dimmed down by the sound his heart thundering in his chest.

Stupid, Luka.

Wasn’t that the reason he decided to get away from Paris? That way, he would be able to keep her friendship and not be tempted to blurt out his feelings or worse, tell her that he wanted her to be his girlfriend for real. He tried so hard to stop thinking about that time she came to his rescue the month before lycée was over, but that exact moment flooded his mind when he was around her and there was nothing he could do about it.

He still cared too much for her to let his stupid feelings ruin their friendship, so he did what he could and took the first chance to step back before he could do something he could regret. It was working, kind of.

The sun was low in the sky when Luka and Marinette met with the rest of their friends, the carnival attractions lit up the place in an explosion of colours and the group went on the different rides together. For the first time in a while, Luka’s mind felt light.

When Ivan suggested to go on the bumper cars and split in teams, Marinette and Luka ended up together again.

The perks of being the only singles in the group.

Marinette insisted on driving her and Luka's vehicle. She put her stuffed snake in her bag before giving it to him so he could keep it safe, its head peeking out. “Take care of it,” she said before the ride began and she steered the wheel in the direction of their friends.

She laughed when she hit Ivan and Mylene's car, and Luka felt drawn by the sound ringing in his left ear. Turning to look at her was a mistake, for the surprised gasps and the silly faces she made when someone hit their car unexpectedly made her look even cuter.

It was beautiful, seeing her happy and relaxed like that. His hands twitched on his knees, but when he found himself under the stern glare of his sister after another hit from the bumper car she was sharing with Rose, Luka gathered himself and tried his best not to focus that much on Marinette or on the way the lights of the games flickered on her pretty face.

“Ah, that was fun!” Marinette sighed happily when she sat on the passenger seat of Luka’s car, and she smiled when he asked her to pick the music as they left the parking lot. Luka ignored Juleka's inquisitive gaze coming from the backseat, engaging in a conversation with Rose about Jagged Stone’s newest single to distract himself instead.

He gave Marinette a small smile when they reached her house, and she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before saying goodnight to him, Juleka and Rose and closing the door behind her. Luka's hand tightened on the steering wheel in an useless attempt to recompose himself.

He started the car again, his eyes on the road as he steered away from the bakery, and Rose called for his attention, “Sooo… what’s going on between you and Marinette?” she asked, he could see her eyebrows rising from the rearview mirror.

“There’s nothing going on,” Luka said absently.

Juleka huffed, and Rose leaned as much as the seat belt allowed her to look at him, “I wouldn't call that nothing,” she tutted.

“What do you mean?”

“Aw, come on Lu, don’t play dumb with me! Are you two dating? Or maybe you’re just testing the waters since you can’t see each other that much and that’s fine, too. I mean, you two would be so cute together and…

“Rose…” Luka said a little breathlessly, pondering the idea of stopping the car in the middle of the road to interrupt Rose’s excited rambling, “We’ve already been through this. No.”

She didn’t seem to hear him, “… you were so cute today, I’m sure she likes you a lot, just as much as you do. Who wouldn’t like you? You’re such a gentleman, and Marinette is incredible, isn’t she? You guys are the perfect m—

“Rose!” Luka’s voice came out louder than he intended, but at least it stopped Rose from finishing the sentence. The girl blinked at him.

“Sorry,” he said, clearing his throat, “I don’t like her. Not in that way, at least.” Luka lied, hoping to sound as convinced as he wished to be.

“But… you won a stuffed animal for her!” Rose protested, “It's like one of the most romantic things ever! You don’t have to hide this from us, Lu.”

“It's not what it looks like…” Luka warned, but, again, Rose didn't seem to be interested in what he had to say, “... and then we could have double dates and we'd have so much fun!!!”

“Rose, please…” Luka sighed, but it wasn't until Juleka called her attention that the girl stopped babbling about him and Marinette together with dreamy eyes.

“Am I wrong, Jule?” Rose whined, and Juleka shook her head, “He’s just being stupid as always.”

Great, Juleka. Thank you.

“Guys,” he groaned, “I'll tell you again, Marinette and I are just friends. It's not what it looks like.”

Except he kind of wished it was.

[amatchinwater]

Did a little thing for Day 2 of Stackson Week 2021!

Day 2: Trapped together

Pairing: Stackson

Warnings: underage drinking

Word count: 2709

Rating: teen and up

Ao3 link

Stiles knew it was a bad idea to have a party at Lydia’s lake house in the middle of hurricane lever rain and a goddamn flood warning. What’s even worse is he’s the first person to show up! Lydia herself isn’t even here yet. The banshee was kind enough to tell him where they put the hide-a-key so he could get in and out of the storm. Scott and Isaac aren’t picking up or answering his texts. If they’re not here because they’re too busy fucking and Stiles has to be here soaked and alone, he’s going to kill them.

When Stiles gets in the house, he stomps his shoes on the mat to not track in any mud. Lyds would castrate him for that, so he takes them off just to be safe. Slipping out of his jacket, Stiles hangs it on the hook, careful not to let it drip anywhere other than the little rug underneath it. The house is empty and eerily dark. Then again, why wouldn’t it be? He’s the only fucking one here. Making his way into the kitchen, Stiles’ preturbrance only grows. 

It doesn’t even look like the place is meant to house a party in the next twenty minutes. Nothing is set up. There isn't a single bag of chips or other snacks on the counter. No pizzas and sandwich platters like her birthday. A keg is not beside the island either. Just two bottles of wine with a sticky note that reads-

“Have fun?” 

Oh my god! Stiles jumps and flails, nearly knocking the bottles over on the counter. 

“What kind of fucking game is she playing?” Jackson snatches the note, rereading it before flicking it back towards the island. 

Still clutching his wildly beating heart, Stiles gasps, “could you maybe announce yourself next time?” He collects himself- mostly. “Not all of us have your little wolf senses. You almost gave me a heart attack, you fuck.” 

Jackson snorts and almost playfully bumps him with his shoulder. “Not my fault you left the front door unlocked, Stilinski.” 

Fuck this. “I’m leaving.” Stiles stalks back towards the front door, yanking his jacket off the hook and grabbing his shoes. Whipping the open the door, the teen groans loudly, dropping his head back, “you’ve got to be kidding me!” 

“What are you bitching about now?” The wolf steps beside him and looks outside, his eyes widen drastically. “Holy shit!”

The lake has officially overflown since they’ve shown up and the driveway is at least three inches deep with water. Jackson’s care looks like it’s barely  capable of surviving if it gets too high. Stiles almost cares enough to wonder if they should move it. This fucking storm! Now he’s stuck here with nowhere to go. Yes, he has a jeep, but the road out is no doubt a muddy mess that even Roscoe can’t navigate. 

Closing the door and putting his clothes back where they were, Stiles whines, “why would she pick today to do this?” Thinking about the weather his dad forced him to watch this morning. Most cities were calling in downed power lines and massive branches flying through the streets. 

She knew this storm was coming. So much so that Lydia even reminded him to wear his boots rather than his sneakers. “I guess I better call Scott, tell him not to come. No use in him getting stuck in the woods like this.” Sures, having his best friend here would make this exceptionally better. But Stiles doesn’t want to break up any fights between a stir crazy Jackson and Isaac. Fishing in his pocket, Stiles pulls out his phone and smashes the call button in annoyance. 

“Stiles, hey. I’m sorry I did-” Scott answers on the second ring only to be cut off by Stiles.

“I don’t care if you and Isaac were fucking,” Jackson chuckles at his jab. “Don’t come to Lydia’s. The lake flooded and now Jackson and I can’t leave.” 

“Okay,” Scott draws out the word and if Stiles wasn’t mistaken sounds a little confused. Jackson’s brows knit together at the response too. Okay, so it did sound weird then. “I’m sorry you’re stuck there, dude. But maybe this will be a good thing?”

Is he serious? “How the fuck is it supposed to be a good thing to be stuck in a goddamn house with someone who hates my guts?” Stiles’ hand slaps his thigh in exasperation. Not to mention the asshole in question was hotter than hell fire and makes it incredibly hard to be in the same room with him. Not thinking about that when Jackson can smell his chemosignals. 

“Well,” Scott drawls, “you did say you had a crush on him.” Stiles blanches and goes stalk still, forgetting how to fucking breathe. Jackson snorts beside him. Stiles is going to kill Scott. “Oh my god! He’s right next to you, isn’t he?”

“I hate you so much right now.” Stiles makes a point to stare at the floor and not at the shuffling wolf beside him. “Well, thanks for getting me killed. Great best friend job, truly. See ya probably never, Scotty.” He promptly hangs up before Scott can answer. 

“So,” Jackson purrs and Stiles can’t help but turn and face the wolf. His arms are crossed from where he leans against the wall, one foot propped behind him. Jackson’s face holds that stupid, sexy, douchbag smirk, “you like me?”

He’s not even going to entertain that. Stiles squints at him with his mouth slightly parted. It only makes Jackson chuckle. “I need a drink,” Stiles uses every ounce of self control not to literally run away and back into the kitchen. Sifting through the drawers until he finds the corkscrew, Stiles grabs a bottle. Once the cork is out- that actually had already been opened- Stiles could give fuck all about a glass. He takes a sip directly from the bottle, regretting it at the extensive bitter taste of wolfsbane.

Clearly that one’s for Jackson. He’s courteous enough to slide the wine across the island when Jackson is back in the room. The wolf stares at him as his lips wrap around the mouthpiece and drinks from it, not giving a damn to wipe it after Stiles’ drank first. The other boy just watches before his brain recovers and he opens his own bottle. Setting the cork and opener aside, Stiles grabs the wine and leaves the wolf in the kitchen to go sit in the living room where Lydia keeps the playstation. 

Plopping on the couch, Stiles lets himself sink into the cushion and takes several swigs. Actually rather enjoying the slight burn and the warmth that quickly settles in his belly. He can very easily just sit here and watch tv like Jackson doesn’t even exist. Stiles can go to literally anywhere else to be away from the wolf if need be. He cannot believe that Jackson found out he likes him. 

Fucking Scott.

It takes a few minutes for Jackson to join him. Stiles already has Supernatural playing and has killed a good third of his wine before the wolf is sitting next to him. Like right next to him. One nervous leg bounce and their thighs or knees will touch. Seriously? Lydia has two couches, a chaise lounge, and two armchairs in her living room. So why is he so close?

Scratch that initial thought. There’s like six other rooms in this big ass house that Jackson could’ve gone to. Why here? Stiles drinks more. 

Jackson takes another small sip, looking like he’s barely drank anything from his own bottle before saying, “I have a secret to tell you.” 

He fights the eyeroll only just, “what information could you possibly have that I would care about?” Amber eyes stay glued to the flat screen.

“I don’t hate you, Stiles.”

“Oh?” He asks with mock interest. Even though there’s something tickling at his heart that Jackson didn’t call him ‘idiot’ or ‘Stilinski’. He can’t allow himself to fall for the wolf’s tricks. He won’t let the rug get yanked out from under him. 

“Quite the opposite actually.” 

Stiles snorts and turns to make some smart ass retort. But his ‘yeah right’ gets stuck on his tongue finding Jackson’s face mere inches from his own. He gulps. Clearing his throat, Stiles takes a big sip before putting his bottle on the small table beside him. Too fuzzy and warm to process this, Stiles scooches until he’s pressing against the armrest. 

Jackson also places his bottle on the coffee table before sliding closer. Forcing Stiles to half turn into the couch while the wolf puts an arm on either side of him, completely encasing Stiles. “I like you,” he presses further, “a lot.” Jackson leans in until their noses brush, “tell me if you want me to stop.” 

Blame the wine. Blame his hormones for not wanting him to stop. Hell, blame everyone and everything, Stiles included. But he does have a massive crush on Jackson. Even though he knows damn well that he shouldn’t. The guy’s a prick. He has no problem letting people know that he’s better than them. Making damn sure to flaunt his money too. As if that makes him hotter or something. It doesn’t. 

No, it’s the icy blue eyes that make Stiles want to learn their secrets and harvest the knowledge. The wolf’s stupid jaw that’s perfect and Stiles just wants to bite it. He;s seen Jackson naked numerous times- thank you locker room shower’s forgotten concept of privacy. But god damn, when Jackson smiles- not his asshole smirk, but genuine smile- Stiles’ lungs and knees forget how to function. Despite his actions earlier, the teen is actually pretty happy to be stuck here. 

Only acting as though he hates Jackson because he was simply following the wolf’s lead. His eyes flick to Jackson’s bottle of wine- its contents too hard to see in the dark green glass from this distance- and back to hooded baby blues. There’s only two reasons Stiles can believe that this is actually happening right now.

Jackson’s drunk. Because Stiles doesn’t understand the extent in which wolfsbane affects werewolf's tolerance. Which would mean the ex-kanima has no idea what he’s doing and should go sleep it off. Stiles hopes it’s this because the latter is just too painful. 

Jackson’s fucking with him. Surely he doesn’t have actual feelings for Stiles. Maybe the wolf found out he’s bi and wanted to tease him about it. Although, something tells him that Danny would murder Jackson if he ever found out. Still. This is Stiles. Lowest on the lacrosse totem pole and not the wolf’s best friend. Is Jackson that cruel though?

Beautiful, parted pink lips get closer, so Stiles whispers, “you’re just drunk,” and turns his head away, hoping that’s the case here. Waiting for the joke to play out.

“I’m really not.” Jackson reaches over to grab his drink. There’s maybe three sips missing when he dangles the bottle for proof. “See?” The wolf puts it back, returning with a smirk and a cocked brow, “now will you let me kiss you?” Jackson chuckles, it’s a breathy sound, but doesn’t make to move closer. Leaving it to Stiles.

He’s not falling for that trap. The prove-to-me-you-want-it-so-I-can-kick-you-down trap by making Stiles lean in. “So you’re fucking with me then?” He should’ve known better. 

The other boy looks confused and a little offended. Jackson leans back farther, still sitting close, but no longer in Stiles’ personal space. He actually wants him to come back, but how could he ever tell the wolf that when this is just a game? “Why would I fuck with you about this?” Jackson’s voice is soft and full of so much emotion that Stiles almost believes him. 

“Uh, because that’s what you do?” Stiles gestures wildly like it should have been obvious. “You’ve made it perfectly clear that we’re not even friends. You were literally my bully when we were kids. I don’t- and i-it only got worse when I developed a crush on Lydia. Which I get, she was your girlfr-”

“What’s not why I was a dick.” The wolf cuts him off with a shake of his head. Stiles squints an eye at him, mouth still hanging open from the word that didn’t finish. “I was jealous.” 

“Why the fuck would you be jealous of me?” Stiles scoffs and Jackson ducks his head with a chuckle. “Lydia never even looked at me while you were together.” 

Jackson flashes a bemused grin when he looks back, “I was jealous of Lydia, you idiot.” The name usually bitten out comes with a tone that suggests it’s meant to be a term of endearment. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry that I wasn’t fawning over you like your little fan club, okay? My bad. You’re right, you’re incredibly hot and I should’ve stroked your ego by putting you some fucking pedestal-” Jackson swallows whatever other words and the surprised squeak from Stiles’ lips. He stares bug eyed at the wolf’s closed eyes. Jackson presses closer, his hand cupping the other boy’s cheeks while his tongue slides against Stiles’ bottom lip. Entrance isn’t given, he can’t really, Stiles is too shocked to do so. 

The wolf pulls away, still holding Stiles’ face, “I didn’t care that you thought she was attractive.” Jackson drops a hand and lifts his hips, pulling one of Stiles’ legs until the human gets the massage and- for some fucking reason- lays on the couch. The wolf’s hips immediately settle into the space created and Stiles can feel just how much Jackson wants this. Him. “I wanted to be the one you had a crush on because of the massive one I have on you.”

That’s a lot to process. If Jackson liked him then- “why did you make my life hell?” 

Jackson’s free hand falls to Stiles’ hip, rubbing softly and the other props himself on the armrest behind Stiles’ head. “I didn’t know how to handle the fact that I suddenly like guys. Well, a guy.” The wolf sighs, “Lydia knew and agreed to keep my secret as long as I needed her to. I’m sorry I treated you like that.”

Stiles has never seen him act so soft. Having Derek as an Alpha and a proper back must really be working for Jackson. It makes him charming in a way that his jerk persona never could. Being emotionally balanced and all that. 

“I’m going to ask you one more time. And I’ll know if you’re lying. So don’t do me any favors and don’t hide from me either.” The warning is evident. Don’t say it and not mean it. And don’t mean it but not day it. Otherwise he’ll walk. “Will you please, let me fucking kiss you?” 

Stiles fists his fingers in the wolf’s shirt- half expecting Jackson to snap at wrinkling his expensive clothes- to push him away or pull him closer, the other boy really doesn’t know. Until his arm moves of its own volition and Jackson’s mouth gets drawn to him. 

The wolf chuckles against his lips, “finally.” The hand on his hip grips tighter and the other comes back to his jaw. Jackson tilts his head up to deepen the kiss. Jackson kisses like he wants to swallow Stiles whole. Maybe he does. Maybe Stiles would let him. Panting he pulls away again, and the other teen bites back a whine. “I have one more question and then I promise I’ll shut up.”

The human playfully rolls his eyes, “what is it?”

“Be with me.” Jackson states. Stiles cocks his head to the side with a chuckle, that wasn’t really a question. But his heart skips a beat nonetheless at the implication of the wolf’s words. “Will you be my boyfriend?” 

Stiles is nodding before the request is completely out of Jackson’s beautiful face. “Fuck yeah, dude.” The wolf breathes out a laugh at the ridiculousness. “Now just kiss me. Please?” 

“Whatever you want,” Jackson grins and presses his body in further, claiming Stiles’ lips as his own. 

Stiles is now stupidly happy about this storm locking them in Lydia’s lake house. He got a boyfriend out if. 

[eleanorfenyxwrites]

Request (from this post):

@ebbster2012 suggested: Modern 3zun where Nie Mingjue or Lan Xichen head hunts Meng Yao from his dad’s company. Seducing him away with competence, respect, and sex appeal. (Also posted to Ao3)

I’ll make the disclaimer again that corporate stuff is very much outside of my area of expertise so I’m sorry if I didn’t go into as much detail as the prompt deserves 😅 I genuinely had to google what head hunting was to make sure I was thinking of the right thing. But anyway, hope you like it, thanks for the prompt! ^_^

--

“Incredible work as always, A-Yao,” Lan Xichen praises, suffusing his voice with as much warmth as he’s capable of - and he’s capable of quite a bit. It’s difficult to make Jin Guangyao blush, he’s discovered over the years of their acquaintance, but not impossible. Never impossible.

“Lan-gege is too kind,” Jin Guangyao replies with a sweet smile and Lan Xichen has to admit defeat - his punishment for making his companion blush is to be made to blush in return - a punishment he'll happily submit to. As soon as Jin Guangyao breaks out the dimples and wide, limpid eyes he’s done for. He distracts himself long enough to become more composed by straightening out the papers Jin Guangyao had brought for him despite the fact that they’re already neatly arranged in their perfectly labelled folder.

When he feels he can talk again without embarrassing himself, he says, “There’s no such thing as too kind, and I’m certainly not being too kind now. The work you do for us is invaluable, I hope you know how much I appreciate you.”

“Yes, Lan-gege, you tell me every time we have these meetings.” Jin Guangyao’s amusement is palpable but all Lan Xichen does to show he hears the teasing is offer him his usual soft smile.

“And I shall continue to tell you every single time I’m grateful for what you do.”

“It’s my job, you don’t have to thank me.”

“Mm. May I ask a somewhat unprofessional question?”

“Of course.”

“Does Nie Mingjue thank you as well?”

That question earns him a new expression - pursed lips and narrowed eyes as Jin Guangyao no doubt thinks about how to answer him.

“May I ask why you want to know?”

Lan Xichen raises his hands in surrender with another smile that seems to thaw some of the cold calculation in that gaze.

“I know you also do business with him, I want to make sure he’s treating you properly.”

Jin Guangyao dimples a smile at him and Lan Xichen is, as always, instantly charmed nearly into forgetting what they were talking about in the first place.

“Lan-gege is so considerate, so thoughtful. My interactions with Nie Mingjue are satisfactory. Is there anything else today, Mr Lan?”

The abrupt switch to a much more professional tone for the last question leaves Lan Xichen blinking slightly in surprise but he recovers quickly with a hum and another smile. He smiles at everyone (a lot, Nie Mingjue has told him multiple times that he finds it weird) but Jin Guangyao gets his own special smiles.

“Only what I always end with. We’re looking for -“

“A new head of your financial department, yes Lan-gege,” Jin Guangyao cuts in with another demure smile. He pairs it with an absolutely devastating doe-eyed glance through his lashes that makes Lan Xichen feel a touch too warm under the collar of his shirt - a familiar sensation when dealing with Jin Guangyao and his charms. “And I will say as I always do that I’m not currently looking for a change but I’ll keep it in mind should I ever need to.”

“Alright, then I suppose that’s all for this week. Unless you have anything else?”

“I actually do have something - it’s..equally unprofessional.”

“Oh? Please, feel free.”

Lan Xichen stays seated when Jin Guangyao stands but gestures for him not to get up with him. He stays still as the man steps around his desk to lean the backs of his thighs against the edge, hands linked in front of his hips as he smiles that charming smile again. This close, without the desk as a barrier between them, he’s practically intoxicating.

“Nie da-ge includes dinner invitations with his attempts to recruit me. Lan-gege will have to try a little harder,” he says with a sweet smile and Lan Xichen laughs - that is to say he closes his eyes and smiles with a slight shake of his head.

He opens his eyes again when he hears Jin Guangyao move but he otherwise stays still as the man runs one delicate hand along his shoulder, across his chest, and up the side of his neck to cup his cheek and turn his head towards him. They lock eyes and Lan Xichen knows that if he were standing his knees would be weak as Jin Guangyao smirks down at him.

“I’ll see you next week,” Jin Guangyao says breezily with a couple of pats to his cheek and then he’s gone, leaving behind nothing more than the faintest hint of his cologne in the air and the lingering feeling of his hand on Lan Xichen’s cheek.

Lan Xichen sits there in the quiet for a few long moments, just breathing slowly and reveling in the contentment and satisfaction that always sings through him during and after a meeting with Jin Guangyao. After 10 minutes or so of that, though, he pulls his phone from its drawer in his desk to open up his text thread with Nie Mingjue.

Me:

You invite A-Yao out to dinner,

Mingjue? That’s cheating!

The response comes right away, much to Lan Xichen’s amusement.

Mingjue:

It’s not cheating, it’s perfectly standard procedure

to include an invitation for a meal with offers of

recruitment interviews. We said no asking him

out on dates, we didn’t say no business-

oriented, completely professional meals that just

happen to be at very nice restaurants.

Me:

It’s supposed to be lunch! Cheating, Mingjue,

so shameless. And you didn’t tell me :(

Unfair advantages are definitely cheating!

Mingjue:

How did you even find out, by the way?

Me:

A-Yao just told me before he left my office.

Does he ever accept?

Mingjue:

Every time.

Me:

And he still won’t let you recruit him?

Mingjue:

Nope.

Me:

Interesting.

Well I suppose the only thing for it is to

also start inviting him on outings that are

definitely not dates. It’s only fair.

Mingjue:

Hey. Do you ever get the feeling that

he’s just playing with us?

Me:

Perhaps. Is that a bad thing? If you don’t

like it you can bow out now and

I certainly won’t judge you, Mingjue.

Mingjue:

Nice try, Xichen.

Me:

Worth a shot. He has his meeting with

you tomorrow, right?

Mingjue:

He does, and I’m going to offer to take him out to

that new upscale Vietnamese place Huaisang likes.

Me:

I’ll make sure to choose somewhere else for

my dinner with him, then.

Mingjue:

Do you think he’ll ever actually leave Jin Guangshan?

We already know the man’s a conniving motherfucker.

What if he’s done something to make sure A-Yao doesn’t

ever go anywhere else?

Me:

Then we’ll just have to keep trying, and continue

making sure he knows we appreciate him.

Mingjue:

Oh alright fine. Kidnapping him is

out of the question though?

Me:

Unfortunately so.

Mingjue:

Damn. He ever give you that look through his eyelashes

that makes you want to bundle him up and

hold him for at least a few hours?

Me:

Yes.

Frequently.

Mingjue:

See?! He’s not playing fair either! Nice dinners are the

least I can do after he looks at me like that.

Me:

I have to concede that point. I also need to

return to work, unfortunately.

Mingjue:

Alright, I’ll see you tonight. Take-out

sushi for dinner?

Me:

Sounds lovely.

Lan Xichen sighs to himself and returns the phone to the drawer with a sardonic little smile on his lips. Trust Nie Mingjue to bully his way through the rules of their little game and do what he wants to do anyway. Well - if he’s going to hit on Jin Guangyao then Lan Xichen is going to stop being quite so reticent with his own attempts. Besides, if one of them wins this bet then they both win, technically, as the ultimate goal is to get Jin Guangyao somewhere he’s properly valued and treated well - it doesn’t really matter which company he ends up choosing.

In the end, though, he doesn’t choose either of them. Or - perhaps a slightly more accurate way to put it is that he chooses both of them, just not in any way they could have anticipated.

Lan Xichen claims that he technically won the bet because Jin Guangyao came to him first with the plans to start his own financial company and asked the Lan corporation to be his first major client. Nie Mingjue claims that he won because he had been the one to suggest the company in the first place over one of his and Jin Guangyao’s weekly dinners. Jin Guangyao claims he beat them both because he foiled their plans to steal him into either one of their companies, because it was his idea to use the money from successfully suing his father to fund it, and because he picked up two boyfriends out of the deal without having to worry about creating a headache for either the Nie or Lan corporations’ HR team to deal with.

“A-Yao makes a good point, Mingjue,” Lan Xichen sighs when Jin Guangyao finishes stating as much, practically radiating smug satisfaction, and Nie Mingjue’s grumpy, nonverbal acquiescence is really its own reward.

“Don’t grunt, da-ge, I haven’t worn you out that much yet tonight. Use your words,” Jin Guangyao chastises and Lan Xichen just barely lifts his head to watch him swat at Nie Mingjue’s bare hip.

“A-Yao makes a good point,” Nie Mingjue dutifully parrots around a yawn and Lan Xichen hides his laugh in the crook of Jin Guangyao’s neck.

“Mm.” Jin Guangyao sounds ridiculously satisfied with himself as he slides his arms around the two men laying in bed on either side of him. “Perfect.”

[thethousandyearwitch]

The Show Must Go On! Chap. 8 [The End]

- A Youtuber AU you didn’t want and didn’t need -

Hisoka Morrow, italian Makeup Youtuber, enjoys his life in the comfort and occasional drama of his profession. But nothing brings more drama into his life than the eldest son of the Zoldyck fashion magazine empire.

Meanwhile, aspiring australian Twitch Streamer Gon Freecs forms a special bond to a Speedrunner commonly going by "Kil".

Chapter 8 "Born To Run” out now! The Last Chapter!

AO3 Link

Illumi Zoldyck has rarely made mistakes in his life, and any mistake was met with immediate punishment. It was supposed to lead to a perfect adult life, free of foolish mistakes and mishaps, for the prosperity and safety of the family.

But now there was an arm curled around his side, hot breath hitting his neck in a steady rhythm as the morning sun was rising, and there was no other way to say it:

He fucked up.

He let himself be lured into the lion’s den, and now the ‘lion’ was curled up asleep next to him, hair a mess, and a self-satisfied smile on his bruised lips.

Hooking up with Hisoka was objectively a mistake, but it wasn’t going to be the end of the world. He was an adult after all, capable of making his own decisions regarding relationships of any nature. Furthermore, whether this was going to be a temporary or a more permanent ordeal, the long distance would keep Hisoka far away enough from any family affairs, and with enough bribery it could kept out of the public eye.

Illumi grabbed his phone from the nightstand, disconnected the charger, and ignored the half-asleep murmurs from the other side of the bed. Whatever thiswas, could work out, no repercussions, no mistak-

’18 Missed Calls from Mother’.

Oh No.

.

.

’27 Missed Calls from Mother. 19 Missed Calls from Father’.

“Oh, my folks are soooo pissed right now.” Killua snorted and pocketed his phone again. Gon and him had decided to take a trip to a larger city that framed the Area that the young boy lived in, mainly to buy essentials that Killua didn’t remember to pack for himself, which resulted in him finally having phone reception again. Mito insisted on driving them there, mumbling something about keeping them under control, but generously stayed behind in a café to give the boys some space. It’s been almost 3 days since Killua had arrived, and so far, nothing had been set on fire and there were no trips to the ER, which she considered a personal win. The afternoon sun was beating harshly on them, at least to the standards of the young boy who had spent most of his life either in mildly weathered England or sheltered in the shade cool shade of the Japanese mountain-mansion.

“Aren’t you afraid that they are going to punish you?” Gon frowned.

“What are they goin’ to do? Double take my computer away? House arrest? I could probably set the world record at breaking out. They are just mad that I’m not dancing to their tune, like my stupid brother. My dad’s not even home most of the time, so I don’t know why he’d care.” He stopped in front of a clothing store that advertised bright flower-print shirts. “These look awful, we need them.”

His friend laughed but nodded his head enthusiastically.

There was something incredibly exciting about having a friend. Someone who agreed to go along with your whims and spontaneous ideas, not because they are paid to or want to gain something from it, but because they actively want to.

Inside the store, the boys decided to pick out shirts for each other, determined to dress the other one as ridiculous as possible, hiding whatever they picked out from the racks while giggling like madmen. After a couple of minutes, they shoved each other into separate dressing room cabins, and exchanged the meticulously picked out shirts via throwing them over the cabin separations.

Killua disregarded his black sleeveless hoodie vest and quickly clothed himself in the new shirt without having properly looked at it, to preserve the surprise. On a count of three, the boys simultaneously stepped out of the changing rooms, and stood next to each other, in front of a large mirror.

Gon wore a dark green shirt with the repeating pattern of a shirtless Santa Clause in a lawn chair, with sunglasses and a cocktail in hand. Killua had a galaxy print button-up with various pictures of cats with taco and burrito bodies.

The young teens stood there in silence for a second, before they broke out in loud laughter.

“You look like you’re a middle-aged dad on vacation with his wife Karen!” Killua snorted.

“Well, you look like your name is ‘Bradley’ and you sell knock-off sunglasses on the beach!” Gon replied, and as the boys continued to laugh, he slapped Killua lightly on the upper arm.

Barely a touch, really, and yet: “YEOWCH!”, Killua flinched back.

“Woah, you okay?”

“Yeah, sorry, that just kind of stung weirdly. Maybe you’re loaded with electricity or something.” And Gon was ready to write it off, before he got a good look at Killua in the dimmed lights of the shop, away from the bright sun.

“Hey, get your arm out of that sleeve.”

“Huh? Why- “Before he could object, his arm was already being yanked out of the, frankly too big, sleeves of the tacky shirt. “What the hell, Gon?!”

“Killua, did you put on sunscreen this morning?”

“Uh, no? Sunscreen is for dorks.”

By now, Gon could barely supress his laughter, cheeks puffed out to hold it back. “I can tell.”

Killua looked back into the mirror and stared. There was a clear divide between the skin on his shoulder that had been covered by his vest until now, pale porcelain skin inherited from his mother, and the rest of his arm that had been exposed to the sun, now glowing bright red. Cautiously he pressed a finger against his skin, but retracted it immediately with a hiss as a burning sensation shot through his arm.

Gon laughed again, though this time with a bit more sympathy, and tapped him lightly on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’m sure we have something at home against that.”

“Don’t tell me you’re going to rip off my skin, that’s not cool.”

“Nope! That comes later, all by itself.”

And Killua laughed, as they made their way towards the cashier, because of course they were going to buy those hideous shirts.

“…Wait, you weren’t serious, were you? Gon?!”

.

.

.

“This is the medicine?” Killua looked at the large plant with scepticism.

“Yup!” Mito took a kitchen knife and sliced off one of the larger leaves. She sliced the leaf vertically and squeezed out transparent goo from it into a bowl, which she handed to the boy with a smile. “There you go. Aloe is good for your skin and will help with the burning.”

A cautious look toward Gon, who didn’t seem suspicious at all, and Killua took the bowl. “Thanks.”

“And starting tomorrow you’ll put on sunscreen before you go anywhere near the sun, young man.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He rolled his eyes with a smile, and the boys went back upstairs to Gons room before Mito would call them back later for dinner. Killua immediately jumped on his sleeping cot, eyed and poked at the contents on the bowl. “So, I just slap this on?”

“Yep!” Gon threw his shopping bag into his closet and flopped on his own bed.

A couple of moments passed, Killua continued to poke at the plant-goo. He wasn’t going to admit out loud that it looked gross, the consistency weirded him out, and that he thought he was being pranked. Though in the end, he didn’t have to say anything, as Gon sat next to him and took the bowl from him. “Looking at it isn’t going to help. Here- “He took the others boy wrist and yanked his arm forward. With his other hand, Gon started to smear Aloe Vera on Killuas arm, who briefly hissed before he relaxed at the welcoming cold of the mixture. The heat and stinging of the sunburn slowly subsided.

While his friend was already getting to work on his other arm, without being asked to, all Killua could think about is that this was…nice. He experienced something new even if it hurt a bit. He didn’t get scolded for it, but instead was just told how to prevent it for his own health. And now his friend was helping him with this as well- because he cares. This shouldn’t be something new to kids his age, he knew this, but the past few days still felt like something secret he unlocked, invisible to everyone else. A welcoming, caring environment, a vast open space to freely explore, not alone but with someone who looks out for you and who you want to look out for, too.

Suddenly, two cold hands were at either side of Killuas face, thumbs stroking over his cheek bones. He flinched with a yelp of surprise, though the others grip on his face kept him in place. “Hold still, you burned your face as well.”

Killua gently but assertively took Gons hands in his and slowly removed them. “I’m good, really.” He hesitated and looked at both their hands. “…I’m really happy that you’re doing all of this for me.”

“Don’t worry, I used to get tons of sunburns when I was little!” Gon snorted, and Killua gave him a playful nudge against his arm.

“I don’t just mean this, I mean like…everything. I’m happy you’re my friend. I didn’t think that could be this nice.” He looked nervously at his hands, uncomfortable with the sudden vulnerability, though before he could react, Gon pulled him into a tight hug.

“I’m happy we’re friends too, Killua. And no matter what happens, I will always be your friend. That’s a promise!”

Killua let himself be hugged for just a few seconds longer, indulged in the kind of physical intimacy that he now felt had been seriously lacking in his life.

“Gon! Killua! Dinner’s ready!”

The boys immediately separated and jumped of the sleeping cot with overlapping “Good talk”s and snickering, before they chased each other down the stairs and into the dining hall. Downstairs they were greeted by a sweet, savoury smell as Mito heaved a large pot onto the wooden table, decked with 3 dinner plates and another larger bowl with mashed potatoes. Gon was the first to arrive at the pot and took a curious peek inside. “Short ribs! Nice!”

“I thought that if I give you boys something you can stuff yourselves with, maybe you’ll be too full to spend the entire night up again playing video games.” She gestured for them to sit down with a proud smile. The teens didn’t hesitate and helped themselves immediately to full plates, the aroma of the food spread even more throughout the room.

As Killua tried to slice into the ribs, the meat parted from the bone after barely just a touch. As he took a bite, the tender meat tasted sweet, spicy, and everything in between. “These are the best ribs I’ve ever had. No Doubt.”

Mito laughed. “They better be! The trick to getting the meat this tender is to really just let them sit in the slow cooker for a full 9 hours, better even 10, and only interrupt to season to taste now and then.”

“Mhm. You know, I don’t think my mom even knows how to cook.”

“…Do you know how to cook, Killua?”

“Pff, no. Why?”

Gon swallowed another large bite of food before speaking. “Not even breakfast eggs?”

“Nope!” Killua continued to eat, as Gon and Mito exchanged a somewhat concerned look.

“Killua, would you like to help me cook breakfast tomorrow? We could try making pancakes.” Mito tried not to sound condescending as she suggested this, and Gon supported her with enthusiastic nodding.

“I-…Sure. But don’t blame me if anything catches on fire, okay?” The group laughed, and the rest of the dinner passed by peacefully, until the landline phone rang.

Mito got up and cleared her throat before answering. “Hello? …” She glanced at Killua. “…Mhm, sorry, who is this?” She covered the receiver with a worried look. “Killua, do you have a brother named Illumi?”

In a matter of seconds Killua had gotten up and snatched the phone from Mitos hand. “What.”

“Killu, it’s Illumi, how are you enjoying your spontaneous vacation?”

“How did you get this number?”

“I’ve got my ways.”

“Are your ways called Milluki?”

“Doesn’t matter. I hope you had fun these couple of days, but its time to come home. Mother is worried sick. If you come back now, you may even get your computer back.”

“HA! Fat chance. I’m too busy getting sun burned, buying ugly clothes and- and I’m going to learn how to cook with my friend tomorrow. So, suck it and leave me alone.”

There was a deep sigh at the other line, and what sounded like a second person snickering. “Killu, you have 24 hours to pack your things, book a plane, and think about how to properly apologize to mother and father for the trouble you have caused. If you fail to do so, I am going to have to come over there and take you back myself.”

“Don’t forget to pack sunglasses and sunscreen, Illumi. Bye.”

“Kil-“

Killua slammed the phone back into the loading station and sat back down at the table as if nothing happened. Silence weighed heavy in the room, but Mito was the first to find her words again and walked over to Killua to put a supporting hand on his shoulders.

“Are you alright, Killua?”

“Yeah! He’s kind of a control freak, I’m used to it.”

“But what’s going to happen when he actually gets here?” Gon asked nervously, though Killua merely shrugged as a response.

“Don’t know. Probably house arrest, maybe they are going to take my phone away but I’m sure I can just take my little brothers if I ask nicely.”

“This is so unfair… You practically just got here! There’s so much more I wanted to do together with you! And if they take your phone, we can’t even talk once you leave…”

And Killua was about to try to give some reassuring statements, but then it struck him-

“Hey, Gon, remember when you thought that me coming over spontaneously was kind of wild, crazy, but fun?”

“Y-yes?”

“Wanna do something wild, crazy, but fun with me?”

The woman behind him picked up faster on what he meant than Gon did. “Wait a min-“

“Huh?”

“Want to go to Japan with me?”

“Yes! Of course!!” Gon started to slap the table in excitement.

“We can visit my sister, and there’s servants there who definitely won’t snitch on us, and we can go hiking in the mountains! It’s great!”

“There’s so much food I want to try! And we need to go to one of those cool Zoos!”

“Definitely!! And there’s this great-

“Boys…”

“Hell yeah! Maybe there will be- “

“BOYS!”

The teens stopped in the middle of their lively conversation and starred at Mito; eyes blown.

“Do you seriously think you can just take a plane together, while running away from your family, without any supervision?”

Killua hesitated before speaking up. “Well, I did make it over here…”

“And now you’re in trouble with your family!”

The young boy sighed and hung his head in defeat, to which his friend took his hand in an attempt at comfort. Gon had the most well-trained puppy eyes, which locked onto Mito as their target.

“Well, if you had adult supervision though…”

Immediately both of the teens jumped up and hugged her. “Of course you can come!” “It’s going to be so much fun!”.

And as Killua explained how he can book last minute tickets to the nearest airport where his sister resided, Mito thought to herself that she may have bitten off more than she could chew. But maybe that didn’t matter. Because rarely had she seen Gon that happy, and maybe taking a risk once in a while for the sake of someone else wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

.

.

.

“He hung up on me.” Illumi dropped his phone and starred at the wall.

“Well, did you really expect he was going to be obedient and say, ‘why yes dear brother I am on my way home right away’?” Hisoka was still in bed and rolled around leisurely, seemingly not a care in the world, though his grin was telling that he enjoyed the situation unfolding in front of him immensely. Illumi had been pacing the room ever since his mother called, hair a mess and Hisokas bathrobe half-heartedly thrown on, it was a welcomed view.

“He was supposed to. But this is fine. I can manage this.”

“Mmh, sell me on your plan~”

“I’m going to pack my things, then I will fly back home, make sure mother is well cared for, and then fly to Australia to drag my little brother home by his ears if I have to.”

“Then let me ask you this, caro mio:” The artist slowly separate himself from the comfort of his bed, and stood behind Illumi, slender fingers carefully combing through the black, sleek hair. “Have you ever been to Australia?”

“No, but I don’t see how that should be a problem.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier if you had a guide? Someone who isn’t going to chase you down some backroad that’ll turn into a dead end 30 kilometres in?”

Illumi turned around to face his weird companion. “When have you been to Australia?”

“I’ve been around~” He lied smoothly, one hand running along Illumis chin. “Doesn’t a little road-trip together just sound lovely? I promise I’ll be on my best behaviour~”

“Somehow I have trouble believing that. And even if I would agree to have you accompany me to Australia, I have to drop by home first, and I don’t want you stepping foot anywhere near our property.” Illumi slapped his hand away. “I might come visit after Killua is back home, though.” He turned to go and pack his things, but Hisoka had an arm around his waist and kept him still.

“Tesoro, listen to yourself. Your mother has a billion butlers, your father, and your siblings by her side. Why don’t you fly to Australia immediately to get the job done quickly? Otherwise, you’re just inefficiently wasting time, aren’t you?”

“You do have a point, unfortunately…” He tilted his head to the side, and immediately felt warm lips on his neck. “Still doesn’t mean I’m going to take you with me.”

“What if I say please?”

“How old are you?”

“What if I contact Machi for you and negotiate a collab that will contractually play out majorly in your favour?” Illumi let the thought run through his mind and considered the pros and cons. “And I won’t show anyone the candid photo that is my screensaver now~” Before he could ask what he meant, Hisoka was dangling his phone in front of him, with a shirtless picture of Illumi as his screensaver, just as promised.

“Hey- Give me that!”

Hisoka jumped out of slapping-range and snickered. “Take me to Australia, and that will turn back into a picture of myself.”

“This is blackmail, and I can sue you for this.”

“See you in court, amore.”

“Fine! If you insist, you can come with me. But I will bury your body in the desert if you give me enough reason to.”

Immediately Hisoka threw himself at Illumi. “Yay~! Our first couples’ vacation!”

“We aren’t…forget it.” Illumi sighed, though Hisoka could have sworn he saw a slight smile as he pressed a kiss to the designer’s cheek.

What’s the worst that could happen?