#you want to follow you want to see mushrooms and snakes so bad

[writingcold]

Fireside

Thank you goes out to @sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine for creating this moodboard and the tip of the hat for using it as inspiration. This was going to be a smutty, smutty mess at first, but, alas - it's a strange, fluffy concoction. There's nothing to really warn about other than a few sexual references, a tiny amount of alcohol, but mostly just stupid shit and of course, bad language and grammar. Sorry for the typos - this is barely edited.

Pairing: Jake x fem reader insert

Word Count: approx 5700

Work had been an absolute nightmare.  Your tyrant boss had been trying to revoke the approval of your vacation time, but the HR angels sheltered you.  They were fast to point out that your vacation had already been ‘postponed’ three times in the past fourteen months.  Not to mention, you had only used a few actual sick days during that time.  The fact that the fucker paid you well was no excuse to expect you not to be a human being and actually want time off.  

      You had your bag packed and waiting by the door of your apartment.  All you had to do was shed your work clothes, shove some food in your face, send a text to Jake that you were on your way, and hit the road.  You had a three hour drive ahead of you.  Cell service was spotty in the area of the cabin, so you could only hope that he remembered to turn the booster on inside - but even then, service was iffy at best.  You put on your most favoritest playlist that will keep you awake for the drive.  Windows down, wind in your hair, and coffee at your side, you depart.

     Josh’s “traffic was a bitch” voice is pumping through your head only twenty minutes into the ride.  It seems everyone had decided to leave town all at the same time, and the scheduled summer road construction has barfed all over your route.  You are barely idling forward for miles.  You glance at your phone when you are once again at a standstill.  Jake texted to be careful. You scold yourself.  You knew you should have let him come into the city and then drive you both out the next day.  You could have had drinks at that new bar down the street and supper at the diner.  You could have caught up nicely in the quiet of your apartment.  However, it did not make sense to have him drive hours to your place when the cabin was essentially the halfway point between your home and his landing spot in Nashville.      

     You are more than an hour behind when you finally make the turn that would take you on the winding county roads that snaked up through the hills and forest.  And it was dark.  So fucking dark.  The kind of dark when you may have your brights on, but you are still straining to see.  You fight off the urge to lay into the gas pedal, despite your tardiness; despite your urgency to get to your destination.  It has been weeks since you’ve seen your mate.  He has been on the road with a tour while you toiled away at your 9-5 job.  The idea of quitting the job tickles and prickles at the back of your thoughts, but in truth, you are too independent to throw your work to the wind and give up many of the comforts that the paycheck has afforded you.

      A flash of eyes at the side and you hit the brakes just as a deer steps onto the shoulder.  The doe stares at your headlights as your heart pounds, hoping upon hope that you can bring your car to a stop before striking it.  Without a care, she strolls across, stopping every few steps like she knows you are trying to get somewhere where a very handsome man is waiting for you.  A second doe strolls out of the ditch, following her friend.

      Out of frustration, a whole conversation breaks out in your mind as the damnable beasts linger in the road, staring you down like you had nothing better to do… 

Deer 1: “Oh look, Heidi - looks like she’s on a mission.”

Deer 2: “Hmmmmmm… Booty call for sure.”  

Deer 1: “What’s the rush, sweetheart?  Oooo - look Heidi!  The paint is sooo shiny when her lights hit it.  Makes me think those mushrooms were a bit wonky…  But it looks so pretty!  So many colors…”

Deer 2: “Wow.  Never thought reflective paint could be so shimmery...”

Deer 1:  “I bet her guy’s - gender neutral of course - ass is that sparkly - but in that weird human pasty kind of way.”

    **You honk the horn in an effort to startle them away.  Frustration bubbles in your core, threatening to boil over the longer these animals are in the road.  The bigger of the two does raises her head up and looks directly at you and you can swear, the bitch is throwing sass your direction.**

Deer 1: “Bitch, please.”

Deer 2: “You know, them ferns over there looking pretty good, Frannie.”

Deer 1: “Honk that metal coffin at me…  Lord.  Maybe you shouldn’t be in such a rush to get railed.”

     **You growl.  You literally growl as the two does finally get over to the other side of the road.  You slowly ease off the break and move to press the accelerator only to have one jump back into the road.  You slam the break with a frustrated howl.**

Deer 2: “Ha!  Gotcha!”

Deer 1:  “You so funny, Heidi.  Did you see those eyes pop!  I thought they were gonna come out of her damn head.  Come on.  Whoever she’s gettin’ too probably doesn’t look much better than an ass end of a moose.”

      You are pretty sure that they are laughing at you as they trail away.  Aside from a very imaginary, snarky conversation between two deer, you regroup and ease back into a good pace.  You are totally out of coffee and water and your bladder is next to complain.  You are still ninety minutes from the cabin.  You take a side step, heading for a little country store in hopes that it did not close early.  A few miles to the east and the store comes into sight.  Most would chalk it up as too scary to stop. It may be a shack on the outside, with dim lighting across the four space parking lot, complete with a buzzing, half functioning sign that left one to wonder if anyone who went into the establishment came back out with all of their appendages; however, this was a place you knew well.  You bounce out of the car and wave at the couple behind the counter as you head straight for the restroom.  

      Relieved, you loop around to the coffee stand and fix yourself another cup of your favorite hot beverage.  You grab a water bottle before heading up to the register.  You also spot some of Jake’s favorite little treats, fresh made and smiling at you.  Exchanging pleasantries with the owners, you smile as you leave with a little wave.  You check your phone before you start the engine.  Two hours late.  A slow, shredded ‘fuck’ leaves your mouth through your teeth, past your lips and into the world.  There are three texts from Jake - all just checking in - all three cool tempered and ranging from four to twelve words each.  You text him that you are at Spencer's store and getting back on the road.  You turn on a heavier playlist in hopes of keeping your wits about you.  The next stretch was a meandering thread through curves with the woods nearly right up against both sides of the road and sheer drop off bluffs that would take you higher into the hills.  You knew it well enough, but it always was a bit off putting to know no one - nobody existed along the stretch of dense state forest.  

      The closer to the cabin you get, the more relaxed you are.  You are belting out one of your favorite songs into the void.  Jake is only forty minutes away.  Yup.  40.  You can do this.  The little spark in your core sits up as you allow yourself to picture him waiting with beer in hand, a smirk on those lush lips that would welcome you home.  You know the first few days would be an absolute frenzy of sex and closeness and more sex and more togetherness.  Yeah… it was the shit you currently lived for…

      “Son of a bitch!”  you scream out as you slam on the breaks.

      A porcupine is fucking meandering down the middle of the road in no hurry at all.  You can picture it even singing as it moves along.

Porcupine: Dooopa dooooda doooopa doooopie dooooooooOOOOoooOOoooo     You curse - out loud and loudly as the creature swerves left to right and back again completely oblivious to your existence.  You dare not roll the car forward and squish the poor beast.  What kind of a person are you for even thinking that?  Fuck.  Come on.  This is worse than the fucker with the Stop/Slow sign that is bored standing there directing traffic and decides to cause a little fuckery to brighten their day by being super fast with their power hungry sign management skills.    

Porcupine: Dooopa dooooda doooopa doooopie dooooooooOOOOoooOOoooo

    OK - this is getting ridiculous.  You are less than 40 minutes away from the sexiest man on the entire planet.  He is waiting for you.  Are you really going to let this stupid creature get in your way?

Porcupine: Dooopa dooooda doooopa doooopie dooooooooOOOOoooOOoooo

     Motherfucker.  Did that thing really just turn and cackle at you?  Maybe.  You narrow your eyes as it begins to skitter off in what may be the ditch… Nope.  Back to the center of the road.

Porcupine: Dooopa dooooda doooopa doooopie dooooooooOOOOoooOOoooo

    You are practically pounding the steering wheel with anxious fingertips.  Out of nowhere, a huge bird swoops down and nearly hits your windshield.  You scream and flinch like the damn thing is going to rip you out of the car and carry you away.  The porcupine has suddenly made a mad dash to safety; his stupid little song silenced.  Collecting yourself, you make a mental note that you are going to have the biggest, stiffest drink known to man the moment you arrive at the cabin.  No ifs.  No ands.  No fucking buts about it.  Whatever was in the damn air that was making this drive abnormally weird certainly did not have the best intentions towards you.

     Taking a sip of your once scalding hot beverage, you chance it and down it as it’s that magic temp where it only is perfect for a time window that only god and physics people can figure out but can’t create to stay that way for longer than twenty seconds.  You tuck your mug back into its spot and readjust in your seat just as a particularly lovely ditty comes on - all heavy guitars and banging lyrics.  You find yourself screeching out at the top of your lungs as you relax, foot pressed a little harder on the gas than you knew you should, but damn - you were less than thirty minutes away from your sex god demon boyfriend and you could give a shit if something…

      You pull your foot back as a shadow creeps at the edge of the road several car lengths ahead.  It is startling.  You can’t figure out what the hell it was - just big and dark, matching the midnight of the sky.  There it was again - movement. All shadowy and spooky - just on the fringe ahead…  Your eyes narrow.  Your whole focus is on that shadow as you crawl your car forward.  You hope like hell it’s not like some crazy stupid forest monster that was going to disappear your ass.  At the same time you’re too scared to actually fully stop the vehicle in the case that it is some forest cryptid that is going to eat your face off and drag you into the nether never to be seen again.  You see the shadow again, this time it’s like it’s lurking.  You pull the wheel to maneuver the car further into the on-coming lane and decide to floor it.  It’s probably just a bear, but to be safe, you just gun that damn engine and take off like a shot.  Your heart is pounding and your eyes refuse to focus on anything but the road ahead of you.  

      Finally…  FINALLY you arrive at the turn for the drive back to the cabin.  The driveway is just over three quarters of a mile, leading you back into the woods, winding up a hill that you dare not navigate during the winter.  The cabin is all lit up on the inside, sending a warm, orange glow across the soft roll of the hill and splashing through the tree trunks and ferns that made up the front yard.  You pull in next to Jake’s truck, cutting the engine off and sitting for a long moment.  Never had you ever had such a ride like the one you just experienced.  Traffic.  Possessed animals.  Or was it more like you are just being too desperate to get to this hill and your man that every little bump turned into fucking mountains that felt like you had to scale them in truly strange, horrific fashion.

      Your eyes skate over the kitchen window, hoping that perhaps he was standing waiting, watching for you.  Instead, no shadow passes the paned glass.  You grab a garbage bag and shove your remnants of the drive into it before sliding out and righting yourself under the velvet night.  The void of fellow humans fills you.  It’s all crickets and frogs and breeze through the poplars and birch and oak and pines that welcomes you home.  Yanking your bag from the backseat and tossing your garbage in the bin, you move towards the door.  Inside is small, but cozy.  The kitchen bleeds into the dining and living rooms with windows everywhere.  The soft textures meet the rough in just the right balance that makes you sigh, knowing that you are safe and warm.  

      You call out for him, but there’s no answer.  You drop your bag in the loft bedroom, a grin passing your mouth at the sight of his own stuff haphazardly tossed around and set out for the extended week to come.  You duck back downstairs, catching sight of a flicker in the backyard.  Taking a moment, you look out to see the silken amber glow and soft shadowing of a campfire dancing against the tree trunks.  You can just make out Jake’s form, sitting in one of the adirondack chairs, his guitar across his lap, leg stretched out and resting against the large stones of the fire pit.  A wave of comfort washes over you as you descend down into the basement to the walkout that would lead you directly to him.  

      Softly closing the screen door behind you, you are wrapped in the soft strumming of his playing and the pops and crackles of the fire.  He glances over his shoulder, his eyes searching for you.  The corner of his mouth tugs as you approach.  He sets the guitar to the side before standing to greet you.  Without warning, you latch onto him, pressing your body flush to his, your mouth landing against his in a sinful, needy kiss.  He is quick to wrap his arms around you, hands brushing against your waist before folding up against your back.  A deep rumble bubbles from his chest as he allows you to lean into him.  One of your hands lands against the stubble on his cheek while the other pushes into his hair.  You find yourself intoxicated instantly from his touch; his taste; his presence.  

      “Damn, I missed you,”  he whispers as he draws in a breath.  “I was starting to worry.”

      “Sure,”  you quip as your eyes continue to trace across his face, looking for anything that may have changed in the weeks of separation.  “You sure look like it.”

      He dips his chin shyly.  “Aw, I was just about to play some pretty angsty shit to see if that would help.”  

      The sound of his laughter fills you as he swings your body around against his.  His hands dig into your hips and your ass and your tummy as his touch seems to be everywhere suddenly.  You are not much better.  Your hands are already running up the front of his chopped up t-shirt, searching for skin and warmth and just…  Jake.

      “Awfully needy,”  he sighs as you practically yank and shred the fabric from his body in the not usual route of just sliding it off.  

      You growl, and you are not embarrassed by it.  After your ride, you just needed all of him and all of him in a rough, mean, sloppy way that you would never fully articulate, but he always seemed to understand what exactly you needed anyway.  His wicked chuckle as he discards the shirt away from the fire - don’t ask.  It would not have been the first time he lost a garment to the flames through your need.  

      You straighten up your back, plaster your most serious face you can muster and capture his full, shirtless attention.  “I need you to rail the shit out of me and this shitty assed drive up here.  I need you to do that now.”

      He rolls his lips in between his teeth.  His eyes are a liquid emotion that you barely register before it seems like your clothes are smoldering in their near correct places.  He clears his throat as if the depth of the expectation has been launched at his brain with full intent of harm or… is there an or, really?

       You suck in a breath across your teeth.  “I appreciate your romantic gesture here.  I do.  But…”

      He gulps a breath before you can retreat from your need.  “Okay.  Just give me a minute.  I’ll take care of this out here.  I’ll meet you inside.”

      “‘K…”  You nod as he turns you back towards the cabin with a little swat on your butt.  “I’m sorry I-”

       “Nope.  You’ve made it loud and clear what you need,”  he says as he drags the hose closer, beginning to spray the lovely fire that he had going.  “Just head on up to bed and I’ll be there in a minute.”

      For a moment, you are frozen.  Did you really demand what you think you just did… from Jake?  You sip in a breath as his dark eyes climb up your body as he’s bent down, scattering the embers of the campfire.  Oh.  Committed now and all…  

      You turn and move back towards the cabin.  Through the basement door and up the creaky stairs into the main space.  You decide a sip of courage would do you some good before he gets inside.  You pull the tequila from the cupboard and shakily pour yourself a shot into a lowball before dousing it with some ginger beer from the fridge.  You barely can carry the glass up the stairs into the bedroom.  Your brain is only being edged in speed by your heart.  Both are racing out of control.  You peek out the window, seeing his shadowed outline, giving the now blackened pit a final stir to ensure the flame is completely out.  You watch like a stalker as he bends to retrieve his guitar, beer, and finally his smokes before making his way towards the cabin.  A swallowed ‘fuck’ buries itself in your throat as you turn away.  The drink dribbles down your chin as you rush to the only bathroom.  

     Your eyes are completely blasted by the not as bright as you think lights.  You take another drink of your cocktail before dropping it down to the counter.  You hear him walking through the living room and back to the kitchen.  The sharp snaps of lightswitches being turned off sends jolts up your spine.  You drag your fingers through your hair in some kind of attempt to straighten yourself up.  You slide out of your pants and road weary shirt before you start running water to get warm in the sink.  The least you can do is freshen up and get the travel tar off your skin before whatever the hell he’s going to do to you gets done.

     Cleaned up, washed up, and nearly looking human, you reach for one of his t-shirts just as you hear his footfalls start up the stairs towards you.  You take the last sip of your tequila and ginger as he pauses to switch off the stairway lights, effectively announcing his arrival.  A shaky breath escapes your lips as you set your glass down on the dresser before turning towards him.  He stands at the head of the stairs, his hands calm at his sides.  His dark eyes are impossibly full of silk and velvet and lust and longing that you would think that it would spill out across the crest of his cheekbones and land on his pillowed mouth.  Or maybe, that is just you projecting everything that is suddenly erupting from every pore of your skin.  

     “Hey, handsome,” he says, his voice full of rasp as the corner of his mouth curls in a smile.

      “Hey, pretty,”  you whisper, unable to rip your eyes from the curve of his belly as it streams down the distinct v that drifts beneath his crumpled linen pants.

     “I’m surprised you’re still wearing clothes,”  he remarks, remaining rooted to his spot, his body giving no clues of what would happen next.

      You grin as you swirl a fingertip at the hem of the t-shirt just enough to flirt the edge to reveal the barely there panties that you are sporting.  His head tilts ever so slightly as a soft hum passes his lips.  You slowly turn your back to him, your fingers skating over the swell of your ass as your ghost the fabric up your sides in a surprisingly graceful maneuver as you dip your chin to look at him over your shoulder.  He raises an eyebrow and licks at his lip, just as a lock of your hair drifts across your brow in what you hope is an oh so sexy moment.  

      “Impressed?”  you coo as you drag the fabric up until you can bring it over your head.

      He lets out an amused laugh.  “Always,”  he sighs, still not moving.  “Get on the bed.  Lay down on your belly.”

      You comply because let’s face it - you’ve presented your need, why fight it?  You feel the tip of his callused finger trace across your ankle before skating up one calf and give a little tickle behind your knee.  Just as you’re folding your arms under your pillow to get more comfortable, he grabs you by the ankles and yanks you down.  You let out a surprised yelp, watching as he knocks off the pillows before he takes one wrist in between his fingers.

      You watch as he stretches your arms up towards the headboard, hooking your fingers to the edge of the bed.  “Both hands stay right here.  Doesn’t matter if you are on your belly or on your back.  Do you understand?”

      You feel your skin grow hot at the sound of authority in his tone.  You nod as you whisper out an affirmation.  He leans into you, planting a little kiss to your forehead with a smile.  One hand lands in the middle of your bare back and glides down the expanse of skin, stopping only for a moment before hooking into the fabric of your undies and pulling them down and off in a painfully slow fashion that allowed each of his fingers brush against the insides of your legs on their journey down.  Your breath quickens as you feel him move away from you, only to return his path on the other side of the bed, his hands passing over you like silk - teasing, touching, hovering, pressing.  Everywhere in their wake, his touch is leaving gooseflesh and a scorch of desire for more.  

      He disappears for a moment, leaving a vacuum of silence that weighs on you heavily.  The coil of anticipation begins to strangle you as the thunk of his boots hitting the floor strikes your ears, followed by the clank of his belt knocking on the top of the dresser.  You can picture him as he slowly undresses - each piece landing in a designated spot for ease of use in the morning.  A little hum slides through his lips as he grows nearer to you, his rings striking the nightstand and you turn your head to look at how he grins to himself and continues on like he didn’t have a naked you stretched across the bed like a trophy.  You listen as he steps into the bathroom.  That spring of anticipation is turning into outright frustration.  You sink your teeth into the tender flesh of your arm in hopes of summoning an ounce of patience.  

      “Look at you,”  he says, his voice rough with rasp.  “It’s like your whole body is vibrating.  Do you need this that badly?”

       “Fuck,”  you breath out.

      “What happened between home and here?”  he asks gently, while still keeping himself away.

      “I almost lost my damn vacation because of the boss,”  you start with a low grumble, the venom spilling out on the mattress beneath you.  “Can you believe that?  He literally went to HR and tried to have me fired if I didn’t show up next week.  Which I’m not.  I’m not going in.  HR insisted that I must take my time.”

      “I know you love your job, but maybe-”

      You shake your head.  “I’m not ready to go - no matter how fucked up he is.  There are still more aspects to the job that do not involve him that I love.”

      “Okay,”  he whispers as he moves in between your outstretched legs, but not yet moving onto the bed.  He ghosts his fingertips across your calves, back and forth, the pressure gaining traction with each pass until he’s literally dragging his hands up and down your legs like a massage.  “What else has you in these knots?”

       Your eyes roll under his care before you harken back to the drive.  “Ugh - it was like everyone had the same idea to leave the city all at the same moment, and the construction…”

       “Yeah,”  he agreed, pressing forward past your knees and into the tender skin of your thighs, mirroring his technique he had just given your calves.  “It’s so bad this year.”

       “It was down to one damn lane for miles and there’s always that one asshole that has to wait until last minute to merge and fuck everyone else who planned ahead,”  you continue, unable to hide the squeak as he hits a few stress knots about mid-thigh.

       He lets out a supportive hum as he moves up onto the mattress, straddling your thighs.  He continues to massage his way up your body in a delicious, albeit slow, manner.

       “It was like every animal was on the road coming up here,”  you scoff, leaning into his hands as he drags them up your hips.  “I swear there was an edict that was not going to allow me to actually get here.”

      “And yet,”  he whispers, digging the heels of his palms into the tops of your ass, “here you are, naked and lovely before me.”

      “Almost three hours late…”  you begin to grouse until his fingers dig into the tension in your low back.  You feel your eyes roll to the back of your head as a whorish moan escapes.  

      “You like that, huh,”  he whispers against your shoulder as he repeats the move to elicit the same reaction.  “Oh my.”

      You feel yourself melting into the mattress under his care.  “I just…  oh fuuuuck…”

      He drags his fingertips hard down on either side of your spine before retreating back upwards to your shoulders.  You feel his weight against the meat of your butt as he uses you to support himself.  He leans down, placing featherlight kisses against the back of your neck.  “I’ve missed you,” he whispers into your hair before he laps at the back of your ear.

     You let go of a hot gasp as he removes his proximity away.  The heels of both hands press along the ridge of your shoulders, dragging across to the mattress.  A deep, throaty groan escapes you as he repeats the move followed by gentle finger presses that drag down along your flanks.

     “I thought I would never get here,”  you sigh as his fingers rain down along your ribs on both sides.  “I did get you some of those little bars that you like from Spencer’s.”

     He hummed as he moved off your hips to one side of the bed.  “Thank you.  Maybe we can have them later.”

      He asks you to roll onto your back with a soft reminder of where to keep your hands.  You obey, feeling like a fish on a spit, but you do it anyway.  He lets out a quiet laugh as he swipes your hair that has fallen across your face.  The low light of the room bounces off his features, making him look all the more handsome.  Or maybe that was the edge of the tequila messing with you.  Either way, you don’t care.  He’s the prettiest thing your tired eyes have seen all day.  He grins as he slides away from your side.  He begins to rub at the arches of your feet.  Firm pressure strikes knots you were not aware existed are stuck and you gasp and grimace as he continues to massage along without much expression.  Those dark eyes sparkle at you as your body feels like it’s melting into the mattress under his care.  

      His fingers drift upwards and return down.  You wanted to growl out that he was the world’s biggest tease, but your mouth stretched in a yawn instead.  As he pulled his frame in between your legs once more, climbing up onto the mattress, your eyelids felt like they were fluttering in the wind as you struggled against them.

     “Sleepy, love?”  he asked, the bass of his voice rippling across your skin as he brushed his lip across the tender skin of your belly.

      He rolls those sinful eyes up across and through your cleavage, pinning your gaze and making your breathing hitch.  Once more, his palms graze across your hips, pressing upward to your flanks in a press that makes you ooze deeper into relaxation.

     “If I didn’t know better, Jakey,”  you whisper as you desperately try to stifle another yawn, “you’re trying to get me to relax so much that I go to sleep.”

      “That wouldn’t be so bad, would it?”  he chuckles as he begins to cover your body with his own.

      His heat invades every inch of you as you melt under him.  His lips pass over your mouth before landing against the bump of your chin.  Slowly, he pushes his hands against your stretched out arms, lacing his fingers with your own.  He pulled his shoulders back a bit so as to look down into your face.

     “And you want me to rail the shit out of you,”  he says as you struggle to keep your focus.  His grin tugs a little more as you cover your yawn once more.

      “Uh huh,”  you sigh as he starts to plant tender kisses against your throat.

      “You want me to do what exactly?”  he whisper asks into your skin before he presses his tongue against the hollow of your collarbone.

       The heat of his body mixed with the silk of his voice begins to tug in ways that are opposite of what you want.  Your eyes are rolling back in your head, but not with pleasure.  You gasp out, but it’s a yawn that fills the air around you.  Your skin and bones feel heavy.  But he continues to slowly kiss and lap at your skin.  He’s in no hurry to fulfill your voiced wishes.  You become mesmerized as his hands leave hot, relaxed trails up and down your sides and arms.  

      “Jake,”  you manage, voice thick with sleep and comfort.

      “Yeah, baby?”  he asks, barely shifting his weight against you.  “You ready?”

14 hours later…

       You sit up in a sun filled room - alone.  There is no luscious ache to your thighs.  There’s no love marks on your tummy.  There are no remnants of the previous night at all.  You struggle to untangle yourself from the sheets to fly into the bathroom for relief and a clean up.  The scent of coffee and cooking strikes your nose as you’re dragging a t-shirt and undies on.  You can hear soft music in the air as you fight with the zipper on your bag to at least retrieve a pair of shorts. 

      You move down the stairs to find Jake, bare chested and a steaming cup in hand while he stirs eggs in the cast iron on the cooktop.  His hair is in a sloppy tiny pony that is hanging on for dear life.  His face is content as he turns towards you, surprise in his eyes.

      “You’re alive,”  he teases as you move towards him.

      You wait for him to set his cup down and turn off the stove before moving up against him.  Your hands slide across his shoulders and to his back as he pulls you in, kissing you sweetly.

      “I can’t believe I fell asleep,”  you said, blushing and hiding your face in his neck.

      “And I was railing you so good, too, baby,”  he jabs with a laugh.

      You gasp and slap at his shoulder, even though you are still hiding your face from him.  He takes your chin in hand and maneuvers you around to see you.  There is nothing but warmth and good humor and love.  He pecks your mouth and lets you go.  You watch as he slides eggs on plates along with biscuits.  He points to the coffee and walks past you.

      “Better eat up, y/n,”  he said with a firm tone.  “You’re gonna need your strength.”

      You pour yourself a cup, fixing it how you like it before joining him at the table.  “Yeah?  Why’s that?”

      “Oh, so demanding last night and then you just…”   He grins and lets out a little laugh that fills you with a flutter as he pretends to fall asleep dramatically.  “It’s now my turn.”

*****

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[johannestevans]

I went to the Leeds Queer Market!

Some purchases I made and some new creators to follow. 

I went along to the Leeds Playhouse this afternoon before we went to see Barbie later on, and I was super pleased to go along — they were up on one of the floors in the Playhouse where the kitchen is, with various tables set up selling arts and crafts, jewellery, prints, cacti, and so on.

The market is run by Quercus Craft, I think every month or so? And I just wanted to show off some of the things I picked up and link to the creators’ stores and social media!

---

Firstly, I picked up this gorgeous print from Matt David (they/them), who is a queer Scottish artist based out of London — a lot of their work grapples with queerness and sexuality, including safe sex and HIV awareness, but also layers of symbolism, how symbols are created and communicated, and there’s this big thematic trend of exploring the symbology around queer bodies, the ways in which they’re objectified through fellow queer gazes, to incredible effect. 

I love this piece so much — Matt David has several pieces like this one where they create these layered cyanotype portraits whilst also scanning the condoms through, and because of the material of the condoms and the lubricant on them, they have this incredible shine effect on them. I adore this piece, Hey Daddy, because of the halo-like shimmer of the condom’s ring over the figure’s head, and I’m so, so excited to put this in a gold frame and hang it up in my new place once I’m moved in. 

As well as these figures using condoms, they also have some beautiful colour portraiture featuring different queer heroes — I especially love this piece of Marsha P. Johnson — and do other forms of portraiture and sketches!

They’re open for commissions, as I said, and they’re also the Art Editor for Snowflake Magazine. 

You can check out Matt David and purchase their work on:

Their website / / Instagram / / Etsy

---

I picked up a few pieces of jewellery from Abigaia (she/her), a (n English) northerner and queer witch who plays a lot with themes of nature and spirituality in her work — she’s got a big focus on using sustainable materials in her craftwork as well as in its packaging, which is so awesome to see, the values of the work itself extended to its packaging materials. 

I was super excited about the variety of charms and pendants she had on show — I picked up a snake, a rainbow mushroom, and a serotonin symbol, but she had so many to choose from. On her website, you can buy a mystery charm for £4, or ask for a specific charm in the notes — she’s got a huge variety of nature-based and spiritual symbols, including different animals, traditional websites, flora and mushrooms, a few chemical structures, and different pagan religious symbols.

If you love tarot, she’s also got some gorgeous earring sets featuring different tarot cards! 

You can check out Abigaia and purchase her work on: 

The Abigaia website / / Instagram

---

From Nad (she/they), I only picked up a pair of pronoun stickers for my partners, but you should absolutely check out the broad array of their work!

Nadya Griendroheru is an Indonesian artist and illustrator who just creates some absolutely gorgeous examples of character design — they have a really awesome flow and use of colour in their work with exaggerated angles and features, bright yellows, oranges, reds, greens, with a real sense of movement and personality conveyed in each print and piece. 

She had a bunch of different Breaking Bad characters with pronouns printed on them (except for the one of Hank, which says ACAB), just like this one, and I just thought they were hilarious.

You can check out and browse more of Nad’s artwork on: 

Their website / / Instagram

---

PRALER is the Planet Repairs Action Learning Educational Revolution, which is a big initiative building and promoting resistance and organisational networks, especially to further empower communities and organisations in the Global South and to address and take apart miseducation elsewhere, especially in regards to dismantling white supremacist and imperialist systems and propaganda. 

You can check out more about PRALER on their website here: 

Melany was selling incense they make themselves, and also bags from Mochilas para sanar, a platform for selling mochilas by indigenous Colombian creators, Mama Zenchina and Haba Ulaca, with 80% of proceeds going to the creators and 20% going to Somos Semillas, an organisation dedicated to educating about and collating resources for the Abya Yala diaspora. 

The bags are handwoven from cactus fibres and you can see them on the Mochilas para sanar Instagram!

They’re also going to be at the Queer Carboot on Sheaf Street tomorrow (30 July 2023), so if you’re based in Leeds and you’re upset you missed the Queer Market, absolutely go along and seek them out!

---

I don’t think that they have any of their earrings available for sale on their online store at the moment, but if you do see them selling in person anywhere, they do a variety of earrings like this one, as well as geckos and lizards, frogs, candies and sweets, and they’re very cute! They also had on the stall a range of badges and stickers, little ornaments, and so on. 

Build Your Jungle UK produce a lot of resources and guides to cultivating and looking after tropical plants at home, as well as creating some utterly gorgeous prints and stickers showing different varieties of plants and foliage, and also frogs!

The creators, Sofi (they/them) and Han (they/he) both have backgrounds in graphic design, so they collaborate on making these gorgeous illustrative posters and stickers of different plants you might cultivate in the home, and the pieces are just so vibrant and alive in their use of popping colour and really clean linework that makes every piece seem to pop right off the page. 

You can find more from Build Your Jungle UK, check out their educational resources, and buy prints and stickers on: 

Their website / / Instagram / / YouTube

[nymphthroughthestargate]

Finding Brian

part two of [REDACTED]'s intro

a fic by mushroom with help and many squeals of happiness from stick

she was just so bored.

Stargate Command had given her a room to herself. those military-types had called it "quarters", it was basically an apocalypse-bunker themed hotel room. she found a pen in the desk and doodled all over her legs, but that had only given her ten minutes respite from the monotony.

she was so used to having someone with her at all times, she had taken to talking at the person she was sure was behind the security camera.

they let her go to the mess hall instead of simply bringing food to her. she loaded her tray with the most sugary processed foods she could get her hands on. the officer behind the counter gave her a funny look.

"when you spend three years as a goa'uld, you would also be willing to stab someone for a single Oreo." she scoffed, then turned to her guard to reassure him that she was joking.

mostly.

Colonel O'Neill walked over to her with his tray and sat down across from her. "you should try the pie."

"that good, huh?" she glared at him. she really wanted to stuff her face with the food that was taunting her on her plate, but she couldn't exactly put down her mask with him right there. the colonel seemed to know that, and kept sitting there.

"Oh, you know. sometimes." O'Neill dug into his pie and motioned for her to eat hers. maintaining eye contact, she grabbed a cookie and slid it carefully under her mask, managing to not even show the tip of her chin.

"I don't know what you were expecting to get out of sitting here, but I already told you I'm not saying anything." she said with her mouth full.

"just wanted a conversation about pie," he shrugged, taking another bite.

she leaned back in the very uncomfortable chair, still maintaining eye contact. "you know, trying to weasel out information I've said multiple times I'm not comfortable giving you is just a wonderful way to get me to never trust you."

"who said anything about weasels?" he asked, and she was unable to tell if his confusion was a ploy or if he was just that dense. she raised an eyebrow at him.

"alright, fine." he said, putting his fork down. "my kid is comfortable around you, and that's all the background check my team and I need. but the more paranoid parts of the military are understandably cautious. the last time those snake-heads got onto the base, it got pretty bad."

she glanced to the side. "I'm not a goa'uld anymore."

"you're not, Doc Fraiser confirmed it." O'Neill nodded. "but can you understand why we might be a little... skittish?"

"the last time I trusted someone with my name, they used it against me. can you understand why I would be skittish?"

her glare once again dug into his skull, but he seemed annoyingly unbothered.

"can you throw us a bone and give us the name of the goa'uld that was in you?" O'Neill asked.

"don't you mean olive branch?" she asked.

"throw anything you want, we just need something to go off of."

she paused a moment, knowing the power her silence held. "promise not to call me that?"

"cross my heart," he said, actually miming crossing his heart.

"Bastet." she answered.

"Gesundheit." O'Neill joked.

she rolled her eyes and leaned back in the chair. "that's the name of the goa'uld. Bastet, goddess of kitty cats and women's rights. at least, that's what they told me."

"Daniel's gonna have a field day with that," he mumbled. he slapped his legs and stood up to leave. "well, guess I'll leave you to your very nutritious lunch."

she blinked at him. "that's it?"

"what'd you except?"

"an interrogation, I suppose."

"I got what I asked, and you need to see that you can trust me." he walked away with his tray in his hands. "you really should try the pie."

she watched him walk away, and slowly moved her mask to take a bite.

it was pretty decent, for cafeteria pie.

~ • ~ • ~

Nymph followed her around a lot. when she wasn't being carried, it was more obvious that the child would float everywhere. she found that odd, but everything about the little girl was odd.

"you talk different than mama and daddy," Nymph stated.

"I have a different accent than your mama and daddy, wee one." she answered.

"what's an accent?" Nymph asked, staring sweetly at her while hovering at head-height.

"it's the way people say stuff in other places."

"Oh. what place are you from? granpa said you came through the stargate. I came through the stargate too!! so did uncle Teal'c!"

"really?" she smiled under her mask, strangely aware of how comfortable it was to talk to Nymph. "I wasn't originally from another planet, I'm from here! do you know what an island is?"

the little girl shook her head, bright eyes wide with curiosity.

"it's a tiny piece of land in the middle of water. I'm from what's called the British Isles. it's far across the water, and takes almost a day to get there from here in a big plane!"

why did she say that.

why was she telling this kid in casual conversation something she usually wouldn't admit under duress of torture.

why was this kid so comforting to be around and easy to talk to.

she briskly walked away before she could spill her name, leaving Nymph alone and confused.

~ • ~ • ~

a week had passed. she had earned the right to wander by herself as long as she didn't snoop around sensitive areas, and she was exercising that right when she overheard a mission briefing. as she was eavesdropping, she saw the old General pointing on a star map to a very familiar planet.

"SG-1 is to check out P2X-634, just a normal reconnaissance mission." the general said.

what a weird stream of numbers for my planet, she thought to herself. but then she realised that they were going to her planet, and she had to join them by any means necessary. these people were the only way she could see her precious Jaffa again.

she walked up the couple of stairs into the room. "I know that planet."

heads turned in her direction. O'Neill crossed his arms.

"Oh, really?" he asked. "do tell."

"it'd probably be a wee bit safer to go to a goa'uld occupied planet with said goa'uld in tow, wouldn't it?" she smirked, her mask covering most of her cheeky expression.

Dr. Jackson pointed to the map. "this- this is your planet?"

"well, not anymore. but yes, that planet was under Bastet's control. and I have to go with you." she stood her ground, praying her desperation wouldn't show. she had to go with them, she might burst if she didn't. even just a brief moment to know he was alright, he was safe, it would be enough for her.

the general raised his eyebrow. "she'd be your responsibility, SG-1."

"I think we can handle her, sir." O'Neill smiled.

"I'm not bringing Nymph to a goa'uld occupied world." Carter said forcibly.

"she can stay with her General Gramps," the general offered with a smile. O'Neill and Carter nodded with smiles of their own, and it seemed to be settled. the general turned to her. "you will accompany SG-1 to P2X-634 at 1300 hours."

"lovely! whats that in civilian?" she asked cheerfully.

"Uh, 1 PM, about half an hour from now," Dr. Jackson leaned in and whispered.

"ah, thank you." she whispered back.

back in her room, she leaned against her door and sighed. she was going to see Brian again, and there was nothing that could come between them. Bastet was gone, she couldn't hurt him anymore. she would've cried if she didn't know she was being watched.

she made sure her back was to the camera as she reached into the dresser and pulled out the SG team uniform that was placed in there by whoever set up the room. with a glare to the camera, she slid the baggy clothing over the outfit she had come to the base in. she had only washed it when she took a shower, and generally despised the military grade clothing they supplied her with, but the unflattering trousers were the lesser evil compared to being recognized by the Jaffa.

"is there anything we should know before we walk in there?" O'Neill asked as they stood in front of the open wormhole.

"don't try to use my influence, they think I'm dead. as they should." she stated casually. the team turned to stare at her, but she kept her eyes on the gate and stepped through.

~ • ~ • ~

the breeze was the first thing she noticed. the way the wind rustled the branches of the highest trees, she could swear she heard the laughter she shared with him. the sound of SG-1 coming through the gate and the whoosh of it closing behind them jolted her out of her daydreams, and she ushered them along the path. as they crossed into the town, she tugged on her hood to make sure it covered her very recognizable eyes.

she saw her chance to break away from the group when Dr. Jackson stopped to translate something on the wall. making sure they didn't see her, she broke into a run to the palace. she spotted a Jaffa by the door, but not the one she wanted.

"excuse me," she asked sweetly. "do you know where the Jaffa Brian is?"

the Jaffa looked at her with a confused and apologetic expression. "didn't you hear? Brian was killed in battle three days ago."

her heart sank into her stomach and her vision blurred. it couldn't be - he couldn't be dead. she couldn't feel her legs, couldn't breathe.

"where- where is he buried?" she mustered the courage to ask. the least she could do was visit the grave of the only person who had cared since her parents had died so long ago.

the jaffa pointed to the west and told her of a field, and she ran to where he pointed.

there, right where he had said, was a single stone that read Brian, loyal Jaffa to the goddess Bastet, slain in battle and the date.

it wasn't nearly good enough for him.

she broke down sobbing at this pitiful excuse for a memorial as she remembered every precious moment she had spent with him.

~ • ~ • ~

the Jaffa stayed guarding the door, watched as that strange girl ran off. of course he knew who she had been talking about, Brian was his dearest friend. it hurt to see such a strong reaction to his lie, but he had made a promise to tell anyone looking for Brian that he had died in battle, for he was the one who helped him fake his death.

Brian had come to him the day after their goddess had been killed by Heru'ur's spies.

Al'ri, I need to disappear, he had said. Al'ri couldn't figure out why, as Brian was hailed as a hero for destroying the assassin with three shots of a zat'n'kitel, the same method the fiend had used to kill their beloved queen. but he still agreed, and they discussed possible ways they could make it work.

by pure chance, Heru'ur had attacked them four days later. Brian had taken a shot, and went into a deep state of kel'no'reem to appear dead. Al'ri made sure to keep his "body" safe, and when the smoke cleared Brian was nowhere to be seen. Al'ri hastily made a gravestone and placed it on disturbed soil to make the ruse more believable, and made Brian promise to come back in three days to grab the last of his things and say a proper goodbye.

as Al'ri reminisced, a cloaked figure walked up beside him. he aimed his staff weapon at the figure.

"halt! who goes there?" the Jaffa demanded. a soft chuckle came from underneath the hood, and the figure shifted the fabric to reveal the face of a friend.

"just passing through as promised," Brian smiled warmly. "has anyone called for me?"

Al'ri nodded, and lowered his weapon. "a strange young woman completely covering her face, and dressed like the Tau'ri are described. I told her you were killed, and when she asked where you were buried I told her. the poor thing, she took it hard."

Brian wondered who it could have been, and asked, "did this young woman have any defining features showing?"

Al'ri nodded. "a strand of white hair fell in front of her face, and she had the fairest complexion I've ever seen."

Brian's heart leapt out of his chest, and he broke into a run towards the field of his own grave.

~ • ~ • ~

he slowed to a halt at the edge of the field. he could make out the shape of his beloved, see her shoulders shake in sobs that broke his heart. he inched closer until he could hear what she was saying.

"Oh, Brian. I'm sorry." she cried. "I couldn't protect you in the end, no matter how I tried. I swear I can feel you with me. if you were here, you'd probably say-"

he snuck up behind her, and said "you're the last person I'd expect to see crying over my grave, Ducky."

she chuckled, wiping her cheek. "yeah, that. I must be going mad, I could still hear your voi-"

she gasped, and turned around to see that warm smile she had craved so deeply. with a squeal of excitement, she leapt into his arms and he twirled her around, the wind blowing her white hair free from her hood.

"it's you! it's you, it's you, it's you!" she repeated over and over, her tears turning from those of grief to those of utter joy.

"it's me, Ducky. it's me." he whispered into her hair, holding her close out of fear she'd disappear again.

"Bastet is gone," she whispered excitedly.

"we're free to be together." he responded, the two of them shifting to look at each other's faces.

in a fit of impulse, she pulled down her mask and kissed him.

"I love you, sweet Jaffa," she whispered as she pulled away.

"I love you too, my goddess." he responded in kind.

"he said you were killed."

"I believe the idiom is I took a page out of your book," he chuckled. "the only way I wouldn't be chased down as a deserter would be the belief I was dead. Al'ri is a dear friend who thought he was protecting me, and I had told him the lie of your death rather than the truth of our relationship."

"don't ever make me believe you're dead ever again, my heart can't take it!" she ordered, tears still streaming down her smiling face as she shook her finger at him.

"as you wish," he whispered as he brushed her hair from her forehead to make way for a kiss.

"I'm here with my fellow Tau'ri, they're honestly probably looking for me right now." she held his hand on her cheek. "but if we go back with them, we can stop running. the Tau'ri are protected, and there's cozy apartments and sugary coffee and Oreos and Poptarts, you'll love it there."

"as long as I'm with you, I'd holiday in Netu," he joked, making her roll her eyes.

"that's a bit excessive," she laughed. he gently adjusted her hood and mask, and they swung their interlocked hands as they walked out of the clearing.

~ • ~ • ~

the two of them broke through the underbrush into the clearing by the gate, startling SG-1 who had been waiting oh-so-impatiently for any sign of her.

"who is this?" O'Neill asked, eyebrow raised and hand motioning to Brian.

"this is," she glanced at Brian, and he nodded. "this is my boyfriend."

"I am called Brian," he said as he reached out a hand for the colonel to shake.

"Jack. O'Neill. glad someone is willing to tell us their name!" he joked. Carter rolled her eyes at him and shook Brian's hand as well.

"I'm Sam Carter, this is Daniel and Teal'c." she smiled, pointing to the other two team members in turn. Daniel waved awkwardly and Teal'c bowed his head.

"lovely to meet you, those who took such good care of my beloved." Brian returned the major's smile. "I was so worried about her these past days."

he had called her his beloved. she blushed and turned her head.

"isn't anyone going to dial that gate?" she said in a rush. "we don't want anyone to catch us here, seeing as four of us are wanted by the system lords and the other two are supposed to be dead."

"dead?" Daniel asked, tilting his head in confusion and shock.

she put a hand on Brian's broad shoulder, having to stand on her toes to reach that high, and brushed away a phony tear of pride. "yup. baby's first faked death!"

O'Neill puffed his cheeks in an awkward sigh, then told Daniel to dial the gate.

the couple followed SG-1 through the event horizon, knowing they'd be safe - and most importantly, together - on Earth.

part one

[legendarywolf2022]

🐺Chapter 11: Looking for Something New, Old and Charming (Part 1)🦝

(The next day is going to be the next adventure from a calm shopping to a wildest chase with a certain raccoon.

Just wanted to say that I’ve been dying to write this chapter because I have a secret that I’m willing to show y’all.)

⏰ 10th of July 2022, 09:09am ⏰

🌎 Starbucks Café, Los Angeles 🌎

This morning, the Bad Guys and the Panda Squad went to Starbucks for something to eat so they would have the energy to do some shopping as the girls wished. The café they went, it’s got everything they want;

1. Wolf got caffè mocha, spinach/feta/egg white wrap and blueberry scone

2. Snake got caffè americano and kale/mushroom egg bites

3. Tarantula got cappuccino and egg white/roasted red pepper egg bites

4. Shark got royal English breakfast tea, melted cheese/chive egg omelette and glazed doughnut

5. Piranha got royal English breakfast tea latte, crack black pepper/sea salted egg omelette and glazed doughnut

6. Meilin got vanilla crème, bacon/sausage/egg wrap and watermelon

7. Catalina got hot chocolate with a hint of coffee, spinach/feta/egg white wrap, banana and butter croissant

8. Miriam got espresso Frappuccino blended beverage and and bacon/sausage/egg wrap

9. Priya got coffee Frappuccino blended beverage and impossible breakfast sandwich

10. Abby got strawberry crème Frappuccino, turkey bacon/cheddar/egg white sandwich and triple chocolate chip cookie

“Hot chocolate with a hint of coffee?” Meilin asked, as she sipped her vanilla crème.

“It’s a perfect blend for my taste,” Catalina explained.

“And I thought plain coffee with chocolate powder was the only thing,” Snake said as he took a bite into one of kale/mushroom egg bites.

“Well,” Catalina spoke. “Hot chocolate with coffee shots blended perfect as well as what you said.”

“Okay,” Snake shrugged.

“So,” Miriam spoke after 5 seconds later. “What time does Diane want you and Catalina to have a meeting with her?”

“Around about 3 o’clock,” Wolf said while checking on his phone and take a sip on his caffè mocha.

“And what job did you ask for?” Miriam asked before drinking her espresso Frappuccino.

“Me and Snake being secret agents,” Wolf replied as Snake groaned.

“As in super spies?” Abby asked, eating turkey bacon/cheddar/egg white sandwich.

“Yes, but look.” Snake said, “I’m not keen on being a super spies because, well… I don’t do lessons of those lame history or any training to be the best fighter because I’m a snake, and I’m not a weapon guy.”

“Because you’ve got the ability to bite the prey, like small animals for the example,” Priya pointed out as she took a bite on impossible breakfast sandwich. “To hold onto their victim while they quickly wraps their bodies and tightly coils around the prey. Each time the victim exhales a breath, the snake tightens and preventing the animal from inhaling more air. Without an air supply, the prey rapidly becomes unconscious and usually dies.“

“Exactly!” Snake said. “But mostly, I eat guinea pig alive.”

“Hmm,” Priya smirked. “Nice.”

The Panda Squad laughed followed by the Bad Guys, then Wolf raised his drink. “Well,” Wolf spoke. “Let’s hope that will make a great adventure until Mei’s mother come and spoil everything.” The Bad Guys and the Panda Squad cheers and clanked their drinks together and promised that it would be the best adventure ever.

🐺🐍🕷🦈🐟

Meilin got the camera and began to film it so everyone would see the good time after this, the girls were stealing the spotlight a little until the Bad Guys joined in.

The two groups were now at the shopping mall just to look around and maybe to find something for them. They went to charity shops, bookstores, clothe stores, sweet shops and many more. They had a great time together…

Catalina and Wolf were reading books about all around the world, wolves meaning, stargazing, and stories about myths and legends.

Meilin and Snake were looking at the windows of women in colourful dresses as well as men in fancy suits. Meilin was looking for something to apologise to her mother which would be something old and new at the same time with the help of Snake who knew exactly what the perfect gift would be.

Priya and Tarantula were at the jewellery store just to look at the gold chains with pendant of bat-shaped diamond and sliver charm bracelet of different kinds of Halloween style that goths would wear whatever they want.

Miriam and Shark were at the food store to get more push pops, nachos and many more for the whole team in case they might run out of them.

Abby and Piranha were at the art and craft store just to buy bits and bobs for everyone to enjoy some fun activities and learn the history of arts.

While Wolf was filming the girls dancing to one of the song from the 4*Town, Shark and Piranha seemed to enjoy that song before deciding to join in with their rapping moves as their fins were wagging to the rhythm.

🐺🐍🕷🦈🐟

“It’s nearly 1 o’clock, guys.” Wolf said as the others were having lunch. “Where’s Abby and Piranha?”

“They’re properly at the mall still,” Priya said while looking at her phone. “Trying to find the perfect meal for them.”

“But you do know that we’ve got food here,” Meilin said.

Tarantula rolled her eyes, “The mall is so big that you can easily get lost with someone so small.” She spoke while be on Priya’s shoulder.

“And I did told Abby to not talk to strangers if they’re coming up to her,” Miriam replied.

“But she can fight, right?” Shark asked.

“Just kids in her size,” Priya said.

“Uh,” Snake spoke. “Have we forgot all about her got my butt kicked?”

As the others started talking, Wolf caught something blue that was turned out to be person outside of the bank after a fail robbery from other thieves… and as curious as he was, he wanted to check it out.

Snake noticed this and goes to Tarantula. “Webs, go to Wolf while me and the others go to find Abby and Piranha.”

“On it,” Tarantula said before jumping off of Priya’s shoulder and goes to Wolf.

Catalina was about to go until Snake stopped her. “You’re coming with us, Cat.”

“But I want to check if Wolf’s okay.” Catalina said.

“He’ll be fine,” Shark said before picking her up. “Webs got this.”

🐺🐍🕷🦈🐟

Wolf, with Tarantula on shoulder, followed that mysterious person until they reached corner in back alley hearing talking to himself. “These goons seemed to be tougher than I thought they would be…” Wolf and Tarantula peek behind the wall, then realised that the person was talking through his communicator with someone else in his ears. “Bentley, don’t you think you and Murray can come to lend me a hand once you get the van repaired?”

Wolf was curious to know who was that person until he turned around, “Okay. I’ll wait for our rendezvous,” revealing himself as male raccoon with a brown stick and a golden C-shaped hook on top.

Wolf was a little mesmerised by the good-looking raccoon. He was wearing grey pants, red bag around his leg, dark blue boots, gloves, cap and a shirt along with a red backpack and black eye-mask. His fur was grey-ish with very grey-ish blue like any raccoons would with but with milk chocolate brown eyes to add up such charming looks. Wolf eyes suddenly sparkles in light blue, pink and purple the more he stared at the raccoon and he barely noticed his cheeks were blushing as well and his heart beating…

Just then Tarantula snapped him out, “Wolfie?” She asked before pointing out his tail was wagging, “Your tail.” He sees this and quickly grabbed it as he and Webs hide behind wall again to not get caught. Wolf fur was fuzzy up and he smiled a little. “You okay, bro?” Tarantula asked, not knowing that she was smirking at Wolf’s reaction to see the raccoon.

“I’m good, yeah…” Wolf said before shaking his head, thinking that coast was clear he check again. Only much to his shock to find that the raccoon is gone. But how? This was the dead end and they haven't seen any way out. Wolf then noticed something glistening on ground. He was going to pick it up then he suddenly saw something that made him stop his track.

It was some sort of medal of the wolf-shaped as well as the paw-print that got wolf clawed across the middle while there were a star, a moon and a sun with three teardrops. They were all gold and bronze in red and orange colours with shows so sparkling and shimmering when the sun shines on it.

“What is it?” Tarantula asked as she noticed something was shining through Wolf’s hands.

“It looks like some old brooch…” Wolf said while staring at it while looking around of it. “Or medalion?”

“It does look pretty old, but felt new when the sun hits it...” Tarantula paused when she noticed the look on Wolf’s face. Something wrong, Wolfie?”

“I don't know,” Wolf said. “I got this strange feeling that I've seen this before.”

They turn around to leave only to get startled as they're stopped by the same raccoon. “I knew someone has been following me.” The raccoon said while spinning his cane. “Though I didn't expect a wolf and spider. Well, at least not the ones I know.”

Before they could explain themselves, the raccoon snatched the brooch with his cane to drop in his hand.

“What the…” Wolf was speechless, then snapped. “Hey!”

“I'll take this, thank you.” The raccoon said while smirking.

“That doesn't belong to you.” Wolf protested.

“Neither does to you.” The raccoon pointed out.

“Oh, come on!” Tarantula hand-smack her face. “It's not like we're stealing it!”

The raccoon shrugged. “Sorry, guys.” He spoke while putting the brooch into his pocket, “But I kinda need it. Trust me.” He was ready to leave, not noticing Wolf’s mischievous look and unlike Tarantula who was looking rather nervous. In a second, Wolf outran raccoon only to snatch his blue cap as he waved it around in front of him as some juicy steak. The raccoon wasn't amused as he crossed his arms. “Real mature. Now, give me back my hat.”

Wolf only smirked. Bingo, he thought. Now we’ve got in common.

“Wolf,” Tarantula whispered nervously. “What are you doing?”

“Oh, you want this?” Wolf asked before putting the hat on his head, “Then you have to catch me first.” And then he made a run for it.

The raccoon closed eyes before mumbling to himself in frustration. “I don't have time for this,” but then he smirked looking at direction where Wolf and Tarantula went. “Then again, few minutes won't hurt.”

While Wolf was running through the streets with the raccoon chasing him and Tarantula clinging onto his shoulder, the others were still looking at Abby and Piranha in the mall like some sort of big hide-and-seek and tag-you’re-it games for everyone here in this opening world they’re living together.

Wolf went up to the roof which got Tarantula annoying, “Wolf!” She yelled, “Are you crazy?

“Don’t worry,” Wolf said before he managed to catch his breath and to a leap of running once the raccoon tried to catch him up. “I’ve got this, everything is under control.”

Tarantula really needed to contact the others on what’s going on only when she still hold onto Wolf's arm, she didn’t wanting to fall off.

🐺🐍🕷🦈🐟

The others had been searching for Abby and Piranha in the mall for a while until they found them singing karaoke while eating burritos. Meilin, Miriam, Priya, Shark and Snake just collapsed in relief and annoyance but Catalina just stood there smiling that those two were okay.

“Should we find Wolf and Tarantula now?” Catalina asked Snake who nodded with his tail turned into a thumbs up. “We’ll wait ‘till you guys takes some breath first.” She chuckled.

🐺🐍🕷🦈🐟

The chase continued until Wolf was be able to catch a when a cane been pulled him into another shady alley. Wolf realised that cane belonged to the raccoon who stood in front of him as he pulled him closer. Wolf blushed slightly, but be able to control himself while looked a bit scared.

The raccoon only grabbed his hat, "I'll take this, thank you." He spoke. Wolf pulled himself away, keeping distance to composure himself. “Next time, don't mess with the Master of Thieves.” The raccoon added while smirking before putting his hat on his head.

“Sure, you're the Master of Thieves," Wolf said but then he smirked. "But I have the trinket." He raised his hand to reveal that he have the brooch in his hand.

The raccoon's eyes widened, quickly checking his pockets only to found it really wasn't there.

Tarantula only smirked knowingly, “Heh. An old bait and switch. Classic. People really should underestimate us.”

The raccoon looked at Wolf amazed. He couldn't believe that he got tricked by him with simple bait and switch. But then he chuckled. “My, my. I'm impressed, no one was able pick-pocket me ever. You got some skills.”

“Thanks,” Wolf said. “You're not bad yourself either, stripes. By the way, I'm Mr Wolf and this little angel voice of reason on my shoulder is Miss Tarantula.”

Tarantula wasn’t amused. “Haha, very funny.”

The raccoon look at them in surprise, “Wait. Your actual names are Wolf and Tarantula?

Wolf and Webs exchanged looks as they realized what he meant. “Well…” Wolf spoke first, “Not exactly, but… uh…”

“Hey,” the raccoon said as he realised his mistake. “It’s alright, I just kinda find it unusual. Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“It’s find,” Wolf said. “So, what’s your name?”

“Oh, right.” The raccoon said, “The name’s Sly. Sly Cooper.”

“Sly?” Wolf asked as his eyes suddenly sparkles, “Heh. Really? And you're saying our names are unusual?”

Sly Cooper couldn’t help but laughed at that irony, “Okay. Fair enough, you got me there.” Then his expression changed, “But seriously. Give it back, it’s not safe having it.”

Wolf and Tarantula were confused as they look at the brooch, then back at Sly. “Why?” Both of them asked.

Suddenly Sly pinned Wolf along with Tanrantula still on his shoulder on wall, while making himself a shield as the gunshot was heard with bullet flying around them. “That's why.” He explained.

Wolf was blushing after noticing their positions, but then stopped after the three heard a shout from other thieves. This was suppose to be a bait to lure other thieves who escaped from the bank and Wolf with Tarantula accidentally got involved, that's why Sly needed the brooch.

The black rabbit leader thief, Gary, shouted. “Got you now, you filthy rodent!”

Sly Cooper prepared his cane as he stood in battle position, while protecting Wolf and Tarantula behind.

“You better give us that brooch and I promise you that we won’t kill you!” Gary threatening to the raccoon.

Sly Cooper chuckled, “Like I would believe some crooked people. The only thing I give you is nice vacation to jail.”

The dark brown rabbit second-commander thief, Larry, laughed sarcastically. “Ha! Don't play with us or you'll see what are capable of.”

Tarantula then spoke up, “Seriously? All because of that trinket?”

The golden brown rabbit last thief, Barry, snapped. “No one was asking you bug!” Tarantula gave him scary look which frightened him enough to nearly peed his pants.

“You're clearly not smart enough, if you can't tell diference between bug and poisonous spider.” Wolf said to Barry, “And didn't mom teach how to behave in front of lady? Maybe that's why you're low-thief with no girlfriend.”

Tarantula laughed. “Hah, burn!”

“I agree,” Sly Cooper nodded. “That was good one.”

Larry rolled his eyes and scoffed, “We’re not afraid of… you…? He then gasped when he realised that he was now looking at Wolf, his face had gone pale.

Gary noticed his middle brother was staring like he just saw the ghost, “What is it?” He asked.

“That wolf…” Larry said, then he, Gary and Barry stared at Wolf.

Wolf, Tarantula and Sly Cooper looked confused as well as Gary and Barry, they have no idea what Larry was talking about until…

“He has the similar image of Akela Wolfervile!” Larry explained.

The three rabbits gasped before laying their eyes on Wolf who was confused.

“Wolfervile?!” Gary asked, “That's impossible!”

Wolf looked confused and slightly anxiety about this, “Uhhh… who?”

Gary then smirked, “Alright.” He spoke, “Change the plan. Boys, take the brooch and that wolf!”

“Wait, what?!” Wolf gasped in panic.

🐺🐍🕷🦈🐟

Her inner wolf send her nearly off the edge. She could feel something wasn’t right, she can even smell the thought of something way worse; Blood.

“Mr Snake,” Catalina said.

“What?” Snake asked after finally cool down from all that search for Abby and Piranha.

“Something is not right,” Catalina replied. “I think Wolf and Miss Tarantula are in danger.”

Snake, Shark and Piranha looked at her in shock and confused about how she would be sure about this. Miriam, Priya and Abby looked at each other who were a bit confused and kinda scared of what was going to happen to Wolf and Tarantula.

Meilin noticed that Catalina would smell a wolf being in danger from the distance. And Catalina would be in the rampage if someone was going to hurt Wolf…

(Disneyfriend, please forgive me but your ideas are getting bigger from the ideas you give. I’m still waiting for the third one, but please take your time.

Song: You Know What’s Up from 4*Town in Turning Red

Oh, and don’t mess with three rabbits; they may be cute and cuddly, but they are based on the two weasel from kung fu panda the dragon knights; funny but feisty!)

[sandbees]

15 Things the First Years Have Done

The first years, all combined together as a big group, have done the most chaotic stuff in the history in NRC. In the Headmaster’s desk, is a list of what the One Braincell Group has done. (In which little to no context is given)

As First Years of NRC, we pledge to not,

1. Throw Grim into the Savannaclaw pool. Or anyone, for that matter.

“How did you even manage to throw Leona into the pool?”

“Pure spite.”

“He spoke condescendingly to Yuu, he had to go.”

“I don’t agree with what they did, Leona was being Leona. But it was pretty funny.”

2. Play “How Many People Can Accidentally be Collard by Riddle?”

“I think Epel won that.”

“15 people.”

“Could’ve been 20 if Vil didn’t catch you.”

3. Test Yuu’s magic resistance

“How resistant are you, anyways?”

“I think Sebek’s lighting spell knocked them out.”

“Oh yeah, that hurt a lot. How many volts was that?”

“Volts?”

“Oh, we are going to test how many volts Sebek’s spell has later.”

4. Beat up your seniors

“To be fair, they dumped a bucket of water on Ace.”

“Wait - that was them?”

“Wait we weren’t supposed to say that-“

“It’s fine Ace, we took care of them, didn’t we?” :)

“Didn’t you and Deuce put them in the infirmary?”

“Didn’t they stop dumping water on Ace? Yes? So what’s the problem?”

5. Make vague threats that involve Malleus Draconia.

“Now that’s unfair, those threats were facts!”

“I still can not believe you manage to get Waka-sama’s favor.”

“Well, I’m his friend, of course he likes me.”

6. Start a food fight in Mostro Lounge, and then blame it on Floyd.

“But he did start it!”

“No, he really did. We just escalated it.”

“Haha, I remember hitting him with an apple. It was satisfying to see the smirk wiped off his face.” :)

7. Kidnap Ortho Shroud for the 50th time.

“Did Idia add that one? Because we technically didn’t kidnap Ortho.”

“It’s been, what? A week since we’ve invited Ortho over? We should invite him again.”

“Also it’s been 57 times we’ve taken Ortho, this list should be more accurate.”

8. Steal armor and weapons from Diasomnia, have Jack transform into a wolf, and “raid” Kalim’s treasure room.

“Pfft, remember the terror in everyone’s eyes? Hilarious.”

“I remember when I rode Jack like a steed, wielding Grim like a flamethrower.”

“Ah, to bad Jamil used Snake Whisper on us and kicked us out.”

9. Steal potions from Pomfiore and drink them from the bottle, competing against each other for “poison tolerance”.

“Ok, not our best idea.”

“Yeah that was deserved. Though Sebek won that one, didn’t he?”

“Fae are naturally strong against poisons! Besides, I must be resilient to them in case someone tries to poison Waka-sama’s food!”

10. Scream out song lyrics at 5 in the morning.

“I can’t believe we managed to do that.”

“Agreed. Especially since how far Ramshackle is from the other dorms.”

“Ah, the magic of the magic mirrors.”

11. Let Deuce “duke it out” on people harassing you. Tell a teacher.

“But asking a teacher is so repetitive. Besides, if Deuce beats them up they’ll never bother us again, unlike having a teacher lecture them.”

“Yeah, plus bad boy Deuce is h o t.”

“H-huh?!”

“Ew, gross. Stop being horny.”

12. Paint the roses Pink, Maroon, Wine Red, Carmine, Red Violet, OR ANY OTHER RED COLOR VARIANT THAT IS NOT A TRUE RED

“But we did follow the rules. It’s just that we ran out of traditional red paint.”

“Pffft, Riddle’s face turned as red as the roses when he saw what we did.”

“Ugggh, my only regret was that we did it before an Unbirthday party. He made us paint it an hour before.”

13. Sneak into Mostro Lounge, only to ask Jade if he has “the goods”

“It’s not my fault they assumed we were talking about drugs.”

“Yeah, I wanted to try out some of the wild mushrooms he found. I heard the wild plants around here are good.”

“Blegh, I can’t believe you dragged us into that. I don’t even like mushrooms.”

14. Mix your powers together. No, we do not want a repeat of the FIRE THUNDERSTORM INCIDENT.

“Hey! That was a complete accident.”

“No it wasn’t. You started it. You were egging on Grim and Sebek.”

“It’s not my fault that they attacked me.”

“Stupid human! You were the one to fan our magic!”

15. Stop creating plots that damage the school’s reputation.

“Ok, we have had a few scandals, but it’s not as bad as the dorm leader’s.”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“Ok, we may have done worse. But those were fixed before they got into the public!”

We have read the rules, and we agree to never do these things again.

Signed,

Ace Trappola

Deuce Spade

Jack Howl

Epel Felmier

Sebek Zigvolt

Yuu MC

(...Fingers Crossed...)

[juniorgman187]

Something Borrowed, Something Blue (Reid Fic)

*MY GIF

Summary: Despite her engagement to someone else, Spencer grapples with the reality that he’s in love with SSA Reader when he sees her in her wedding dress.

A/N: I am so fucking proud of Spencer’s speech that I wrote.  Playlist: Till Forever Falls Apart by Ashe + FINNEAS This song hurts so good :,) Category: Fluffy happy ending! Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Content Warning: possible unrequited love, soft angst  Word Count: 6k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　

Call it a superpower or a sixth sense, but I had this inexplicable, preternatural ability to detect when we weren’t heading in the right direction - a skill unaffected by even shut eyes or the deepest slumber. 

It seems as though after all these years of being (y/n)’s passenger, my body has developed a survival adaptation in order to offer her guidance before she would even have to ask, or worse - lower her pride and admit she’s lost! 

With as hard-headed as she is, she’d sooner drive us to Timbuktu before asking me for help.

I was half-asleep when I peeked through one half-lidded eye to observe where we were only to see she blew right by Gregory Boulevard when she should’ve turned left on it. 

“Um, you should make a u-turn at this next light,” I gently advised her before returning my head to its previous position perched on my hand. I closed my eyes again with the presumption she would follow my navigation and make a u-turn, but when I didn’t feel the car change course, I opened them to see that she blew right past the stoplight, too. 

“Hey, my apartment’s that way.” I gestured behind us while looking at her for the first time, catching a smug look on her face. That’s when I knew I was in for it. “Where are you taking me?” 

“You’ll see.” 

“You know I don’t like surprises,” I grumbled, slumping back into my seat with partially renewed energy. Her little antics never failed to get my heart racing. I never knew whether to expect a sweet sunset or a sea of snakes when it came to her. She was that polarizing. “Can I at least get a hint?” I egged on, considering she had yet to even reply to my first statement. 

She was completely unfazed by my pleading. She didn’t even peel her eyes away from the road - that’s how little attention she thought I deserved. “Mmm depends. What’s the magic word?” 

This blatant tease was successfully getting a rise out of me. “Pleaseee,” I dragged out the word as if it would do me any good to let her hear it for longer, but in reality, she just liked to hear me beg. 

She took a sharp intake of breath through gritted teeth, a chupse, to express her displeasure before saying, “Ooh tough luck. The magic word was actually mushroom, but nice try.” 

A mirthless chuckle escaped me for willingly falling for her tricks despite knowing she’d pull something just like that. This girl was the bane of my existence, but at least she still rewarded me with a hint anyway. 

“Your hint is …” While pondering what hint to give me, her eyes traveled to the side, away from the road long enough to make my heart palpitate in a “if-she-doesn’t-pay-attention-to-the-road, we’re-both-gonna-die” kind of way. 

“... something old.” 

Again, she tore her eyes away from the road so she could register my reaction, but truthfully, I didn’t have one. I had no idea what that hint meant. Or rather I had too many ideas, far too many to limit to just one. 

She could’ve been talking about the age of a location, the history of a place, the vintage appearance of something - virtually anything.

“There’s an infinite amount of possibilities about what that could mean,” I argued. “If you actually want me to guess, you’ll have to give me something more.” 

As expected, she was not a fan of my whining and simply rolled her eyes at me. “Oh, stop complaining and use that big brain of yours. I’m sure you’ll figure it out before we even get there.” 

Although there was a high probability she was right that I could’ve solved it by myself, it was more enticing to feed off of what she could give me. “What if I ask you ‘yes or no’ questions?”

The gears in her head were turning as she weighed the pros and cons of humoring my offer. “You better ask some good questions then,” was her answer, which was the long way of saying yes. 

“Is this ‘something old’ an object?”

She hesitated, then decided on, “No.” So I took that as maybe. 

“Is this ‘something old’ a place?” 

There was no indecision with this answer. “No.” 

“Is this ‘something old’ as in appearance?” 

Again, a partial hesitation, but still ultimately a, “No.”

Realizing I pretty much exhausted the tangible, I settled for something more abstract. “Is this ‘something old’ a concept?”

“Yes, you could say that.” 

Her answer would prove to be redundant, as just seconds after we would arrive at our mystery destination. 

Ellie’s Bridal Boutique. 

“Something old, something new. Something borrowed, something blue.” I recited to myself under my breath when I finally unearthed the meaning. The rhyme was a wedding tradition that referred to the things a bride is supposed to wear on her wedding day that’s meant to provide protection and prosperity for the new couple - a superstition.

“Ding! Ding! Ding!” She mimicked the sound of a winning buzzer. “And you are going to be my something old.” 

A short chuckle left me as I stepped out of the car. “Oh yeah? What are you gonna do - wear me?” I jested. 

“Well you are a very pretty boy, but I don’t know if you’re pretty enough to wear down the aisle.” 

“So then how am I going to be your something old? I’m only two years older than you.” 

She stopped dead in her tracks on the sidewalk to reach for my hand. I’d be lying if I said the chilling warmth of it didn’t make my breath hitch. My eyes fell to where our bodies met, but they rose to look at her again when she finally spoke. 

“You’re the very first person I met when I started working in the BAU, which makes you my oldest friend on the team, and since you were the first one that saw me, I wanted you to be the first one that saw me in my dress, too.” 

I was already aware that she’d picked out her wedding gown months before, so this appointment couldn’t have been anything more than an alteration update. The only reason I knew that, besides the obvious, was because I could still remember with perfect clarity the morning she came into work after her fitting. She marched right up to my desk to wave a picture of her in the garment right in my face. It wasn’t until I drew back with my head that I could see the image clearly. The dress, while incredibly stunning on her, ‘didn’t fit right’ - her words, not mine. 

“But that’s not how it’s actually gonna look on me. I asked them to take in the waist, change the neckline, and alter the length.” She vividly described to me, letting her finger run over the digital photo of the dress as she spoke. “Do you see what I mean?”

I lied when I said, “Yeah, I do,” because really, I didn’t need her to describe the details to me - I could already see the vision. Even if the dress was the wrong color, length, and ‘poofiness,’ I’d still think she’d look lovely. 

It was my only hope that her future husband would think so, too. 

“I’m (y/n) (y/l/n). I’m here for my alteration with Reagan at 4.” Just as quickly as she introduced herself to the receptionist, she was being whisked away by an older woman who seemed to have recognized her. 

“Oh, (y/n)! It’s so good to see you again! Come, come, your dress is ready. I just know you’ll love it.” 

Before she slipped out of my vision completely, (y/n) turned around to address me. “I’ll be right back, I promise. Just wait here.” 

I raised my hand in the air to give a short acknowledgment goodbye and followed her instruction to sit in the chair that lied directly in front of a circular raised platform. 

“Are you the groom?” A soft voice from beside me suddenly asked. I looked up to see it was the receptionist holding a tray with a glass of champagne. 

“Oh, I’m okay thank you,” I denied the alcohol with a shake of my head. “And no, no I’m not. Just an … an old friend.” Again, her words, not mine. 

It would come as a surprise to both me and you that with as much as I know about the world, I had no idea how long this would take before I saw her again. With my estimates, it should take maybe fifteen minutes maximum before she walked out in her dress, but who knows? It’s (y/n) after all. She runs on her own clock. The sun rises and sets on her. 

At least in my world it does. 

By around minute 17, I realized my estimates were way off and there was no way she’d be coming out any time soon, so with all that I could do in that store having been done already, the only thing left for me to do was read. Nothing of quality, though. Just those frivolous bridal magazines on the coffee table beside me. I didn’t even want to think about the germs and bacteria that were harboring on these reading materials, but if it meant it’d cure my boredom then perhaps the contraction of microbes would be worth it. 

To say I wasn’t well-versed in fashion would be an understatement and reading the subscriptions only emphasized that further. To put it in perspective, you could style my future bride in a medieval frock and it wouldn’t discourage me whatsoever because I simply have no understanding of what a ‘good’ wedding dress is, therefore, I cannot make an accurate comparison. 

Take, for example, the dress on page 17 of Modern Bride. The model was donning a high neck, long sleeve creme satin dress. I thought it looked quite nice and classic, but the excerpt described it as totally out of style and too old - a faux pas.

But when comparing that dress to the gown on page 24 of The Bride’s Guide, I couldn’t spot a single difference between the two, yet this passage was written in complete adoration. “This dress is vintage done right,” said the article. But to me - they were exactly identical! What was wrong with the first one?

Maybe it was a good thing grooms weren’t allowed to help pick wedding dresses because if I had to assist my bride in picking her’s, then, of course, it would be bad luck! I’d probably pick something utterly horrendous!

I had to admit it was slightly humiliating to confront my incompetence relating to wedding dresses, so before my self-esteem plummeted any further, I set the magazines back in their rightful place on the coffee table so they could once again be what they were always intended for - extraneous decor. 

With a flick of my watch, I noted the period of waiting had only increased by three minutes. Again, I had yet to master the art of wedding garment fittings, but how was 20 minutes not enough time to put a dress on? However, unlike my better half, I had (relatively) zero problems admitting my ignorance, whereas she’d rather drive us off a cliff or into a lake before letting me know she was lost. 

In surrender to my lack of knowledge, I rose from my seat to approach the receptionist and ask if she had a more accurate estimate for how long it would be until I saw (y/n) again. But as it turns out, any estimate she might’ve been able to tell me would’ve been completely wrong for she wouldn’t have even been able to finish her answer before the aforementioned future bride entered the space behind me. 

Remember before when I said I had no gauges of good fashion to outrank a medieval frock? Well, I stand corrected. 

(Y/n) in her dress is what I will measure everyone against. And no one will ever compare. 

“Wow…” The word came out of my mouth before I could think to stop it. My tone was so honest that it scared me. “I’m - You’re …” I was at a total loss for words that I had to sit back down to hopefully regain some clarity. She laughed at my stupidity with a laugh so gentle, I couldn’t not laugh back. 

“That good, huh?” 

I wordlessly nodded while my mouth lied openly in waiting. But the right words never came out; there just weren’t any that could capture this vision of perfection in front of me. 

My mannerisms had clearly already given away the true level of my admiration, so in an effort to lessen the enormity of my obvious wonderment, I reluctantly broke my gaze away from the angel in white and picked up a magazine on the table to perfect the notion of nonchalance. 

“You look . . .” She impatiently waited for my addition, even doing the most adorable little twirl in her dress to give me the full view in the meantime. “Nice,” was the adjective I settled for, as it was such a thoughtless response that perhaps it would convince her that there weren’t a million thoughts on my mind. The most recurring one, and arguably the most troubling one being: I think I’m in love with you. 

“Nice?” She repeated like the word stung her tongue, more out of mock offense than earnest disappointment. “You’re reading your magazine upside down so it’s gotta be better than nice.”

I bashfully looked down to find that, sure enough, her words were true. The magazine was upside down and therefore a total revelation of just how ‘nice’ I really thought she looked.

I tried to hide my smile behind my knuckles as I pressed a fist to my lips, deciding on the most sincere compliment I could give her. 

“Nobody holds a candle to you, (y/n),” I nodded in affirmation. “You look absolutely beautiful.”

After saying so, I nonchalantly - well as nonchalantly as one could when caught slack-jawed and completely in awe - reoriented the catalog. Had I glanced up even a second later, I might not have caught her reaction to my words and the way they made her smile uncontrollably. I looked back down at the magazine with a smirk, giving it a brief flick to open up the pages all the way to me and parrot the motions one would make if they were actually reading.

We both knew I wasn’t though. 

It seemed I never left that wedding boutique because even as we arrived outside my apartment later that day, my mind was still there, stuck on the future bride in her gown.

“Earth to Spencer!” She waved her hand in front of me to grab my attention despite already having it. “We’re here!” She announced. Who was I kidding? She always had my attention. I only wish it didn’t take me this long to realize that the reason she was constantly at the front of my mind was that I loved her.

Nearly about to exit the car, the millionth and one thought rang in my head like a bell - wedding bells, if you will. 

Speak now or forever hold your peace.

At a tantalizingly slow speed, I released the doorknob and turned back towards her.

“...I love you.”

She furrowed her brows and shrugged with her mouth, forming a confused pout. “I love you, too, Reid?” She kind of laughed when she said it, so I knew she thought this was just a friend sending off a friend goodbye, but I couldn’t let her think that’s what I meant. 

“No, not like that.” I clarified with the utmost candor. “I’m in love with you.” I shook my head when I said it which, in any other context, might make you think I was lying, but the shake of my head was merely the physical manifestation of every bone in my body knowing I shouldn’t be saying this, but my heart still having the audacity to do it anyway. 

I confessed with that brutally honest tone again, the one so raw and vulnerable it leaves you nauseous and breathless all at once as you anxiously anticipate the other person’s response to your vulnerability. But I couldn’t even meet her eyes, I was too scared. Even if I had, they would’ve been vacant. Her spirit had vanished from her body, and in its departure left just the shell of a woman who was completely void of color. Her flushed face was a remnant of the shock that paralyzed her and it wouldn’t disappear even as I tried to bring her color back. 

“I’m so sorry, (y/n). I wish I had better timing - trust me, I will beat myself up later for not saying it sooner. But I promise you, I am not trying to ruin things between you two and I would never actually try to stand in the way of your wedding - you have to believe me. I want you to be happy and if he’s what makes you happy, then I will live with that. I just had to tell you now because ... if you married him without ever knowing how I felt, I wouldn’t have been able to forgive myself.”

This was true - I wouldn’t have been able to forgive myself if I hadn’t said anything - but now that I have - will she be able to forgive me?

Vacant stares turned into piercing glares that drove, what felt like, a thousand daggers right through my heart. She was looking at me as though I were a stranger - completely unrecognizable to her. 

(Y/n), it’s me. It’s Spencer. Don’t you remember me? My heart pleaded. I’m still the same guy I was before. I’m the first friend you made on the team, remember? I’m your something old. Please, please remember me. 

By the time I came to the woeful conclusion that she wouldn’t reply, at least not now, there was only one question weighing on my heart heavily enough to make me ask it before I left her car. 

“Would it have been better if I didn’t tell you?” 

My question stayed answerless even as I lingered at the door after getting out, waiting for one. I knew I should’ve closed it, but I couldn’t. In many ways, it would’ve been shutting the only open vessel to her, formally closing myself off from our friendship. The possibility of losing her as soon as I walked away was too real, and I wasn’t ready yet.

“Please, (y/n), talk to me.” It was a trending theme to have every word I spoke be underlined by this profound piteousness. “Say something.” Say anything.

“I ... I need to get home,” She quietly whimpered, practically begging me to let her go. Up until then, I didn’t want to, but I suddenly wished I had shut the door sooner so that I might not have had to hear the quiet addition, “To my fiancé.”

The color she was so void of in her face? It seems I must have recompensed, for not only was I crowned her something old that day, but I was also her something blue. 

_ _ _ 

If there were a guidebook on all the things to do as the love of your life’s wedding (to someone else) nears, I’d like to think I was following all the protocol. 

Since my not-so-subtle confession, I had yet to press the subject or force her for an answer to my final question, which I think she was thankful for. I also hadn’t plotted a giant scheme to ruin the wedding, nor did I have any intentions of doing so. 

For all intents and purposes, I was acting as a gentleman (who’s in love with you but whom you’re not marrying) ideally should.

You would think that after my big declaration, (y/n) would do everything in her power to avoid me. It’s what I would’ve done. But she’s no coward. That exact heart of gold I fell in love with made no exceptions. Because even after what I did, she still had it in her to extend her kindness to me. 

She’s stubborn like that, remember? 

And though she was showering me with a treatment I didn’t deserve, it still wasn’t enough for my greedy heart. 

The true pain lied in the pretending. Every day I would have to come to work and talk with her and laugh with her and smile with her - I would have to be her friend … pretending that was all that I wanted and nothing more. 

It was both a blessing and a curse that she was acting just as she always had with me. It may seem weird to have expected, nay - wanted - a different reaction from her, but I just wanted something. At least, if she was angry, then I would know what I said had some effect on her, but she was just so indifferent. Like what I said didn’t matter. 

It’s been said that there is a thin line between love and hatred. Hate and love both seem to be involved in the neural processing of what is sometimes referred to as the arousal effect of emotion - this is a technical term, so arousal can be negative. Scientists studying the physical nature of hate have found that some of the nervous circuits in the brain responsible for it are the same as those that are used during the feeling of romantic love – although love and hate appear to be polar opposites. Therefore, the same brain circuitry is involved in both extreme emotions. So, as strange as it may sound, if she didn’t love me, then I at least wanted her to hate me, just so I’d know she had any passion for me that matched my burning passion for her.

But as it turns out, she would never go on to display signs of hatred or love, for she never acted passive-aggressively, never gave me the silent treatment - nothing. Nope, she just acted as if it never happened. She went on with her life, essentially expecting me to do the same, but how could I carry on with life while she was still carrying half of my heart with her? 

It’s an impossible feat, that - to walk around with half a heart. And it’s one that has not gotten easier with time. If anything, time has made it worse, and the closer we got to the wedding, the more difficult it became for me to hold back. And with this exponential growth, it was only inevitable that the pinnacle of difficulty came right before the wedding. 

Before shit hit the fan, she arranged, or rather insisted, that I give a speech at the dinner rehearsal. That hadn’t changed, despite almost everything else having done so. Up until the minute I arrived at the venue, I could’ve recited that speech a million times, forwards and backwards, in my sleep, or even in Russian. But I lost any ability to form coherent thoughts from the second I laid eyes on her. 

As soon as I opened the door, she stood at the entrance to greet her guests, having taken a radiant form that I could only imagine would not pale in comparison to what she would look like tomorrow on her actual wedding day. That thought alone scared me shitless. 

If this is how beautiful she looked tonight and it was only just the rehearsal, how would I ever be able to resist her less than 24 hours from now when she would be marrying a man I could only dream of being half so lucky as?

“Spencer!” Familiar crinkles formed around her eyes as a result of her gigantic smile when she saw me and hugged me thereafter. Her embrace was strangely tighter and lasted for longer than usual, not that I was complaining, but I had to wonder if she was compensating for something. What’s that saying - keep your friends close, and your enemies closer? Was she killing me with kindness? That might’ve been wishful thinking though. Because the same flash of indifference I’d been dealt in recent times came back into her face and tone after hugging me. “You’re at table five with the rest of the team.” 

“Oh, thanks.”

That was it? Just a ‘Spencer!’ and then a nudge in the direction of my seat? No questions about my speech? No threatening comments to not say anything that would ruin the charade we’d been playing for months now? Had she forgotten I was even giving a speech?

“Oh, wait, Spencer!” I felt her hand on my shoulder before I heard her voice. “You left this in my car a couple months ago. I’ve been meaning to give it back to you, but I didn’t remember until today.” 

The first thing that raised a red flag was what she was saying. I’d left something in her car? That would imply that I’d forgotten something, and we both knew that wasn’t possible. But the second suspicious element was the matter of what she claimed I’d left behind. She was handing me a book with the back cover facing me. From the looks of it alone, it wasn’t mine. Clearly, it wasn’t mine. I knew every single book that resides on my shelves and this one has never once crossed them. That, on top of the new book smell and the lack of a wear in the spine, was enough to tell me that not only was this a book I’d never read nor was one to grace my bookshelf, but it was most certainly not one I would have left behind.

She was lying. 

She saw the realization dawn on me, but knowing I would mention it, her hand’s grip around my wrist, which I hadn’t noticed was even there in the first place, tightened, sending me a message. 

She knew I saw the deception. There were so many flaws in what she was saying, that she couldn’t have possibly been clueless of them. It was too easy. Or maybe that was by design. She wanted me to figure out it was a lie. But why?

What was she hiding?

The final thing to leave me when she did was her hand. In its place, it had left a a near perfect indentation in my sleeve. How flawlessly it sculpted to her hand told me just how tightly she was holding me. What was she trying to say?

That’s when I flipped the book over to see the cover. 

Can Love Happen Twice?

And right on the inside cover page was scribbled - in a handwriting so distinctive it could only belong to one person and one person alone - “Yes.” 

_ _ _ 

My heart was racing the entire night as I anxiously awaited for the moment to give my speech. Nothing seemed to ease the tension. Not a sip of water, not the loosening of my tie, not the self-soothing bouncing of my leg. But all it took, all it took was one glance from her and suddenly, the storm within me had settled. 

“Next up we have a speech from Spencer Reid!” 

I rose from my seat like a floundering mess, as to be expected, because how can you possibly catch your bearings as you’re about to make a speech to a room full of people?

“H-hi there. I’m Dr. Spen- I’m Spencer Reid. I’ve worked with (y/n) for several years now and - and so I, um, I wrote this speech for her, so, so I’m gonna read it to you all now,” My stammering had gotten the best of me, so before I could unravel into the mess I surely came off as right about now, I spun from my previous position facing the majority to facing only her. I needed to see her. I needed the reprieve of her eyes again, and she was happy to give it to me.

“(Y/n), from the moment I met you, I thought who is she? And I mean that quite literally because I had no idea who you were and why you were there,” Laughter from the crowd erupted, but her laugh was the only one that mattered to me. “But also because there was just something about you that told me I needed to talk to you. I had no idea what that instinct to strike up a conversation with you would lead to, but I trust my gut a little more now because that very intuition gave me one of the best friends I’ve ever had.” 

To my words, an endeared pout formed on her face. She was touched, and I was glad. 

“Over the seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, and years we’ve spent together, I have enjoyed every single measure of time with you. You have taught me more about life and myself than I could have ever learned otherwise - which says a lot,” This once again brought her to laughter. “So I thank you for that, because without you, there would be no one to tell my campfire stories to, there would be no one who could recite Jung or Freud with me, and there would be no one I’d have to correct when they drive down the wrong path,” My own chuckle cut my sentence short. 

“Life with you has simply been made better, and my only hope is that tomorrow, as you get married, you too, will experience that eternal bliss with which you have surely bestowed upon everyone who has had the privilege of knowing you.”

By now both of us were on the verge of tears, hers more apparent than mine as she used the palm of her hand to stifle her sniffles. 

“There is so much more I could say about how great you are, but your favorite author, F. Scott Fitzgerald, has said it best. ‘She was beautiful, but not like those girls in the magazines. She was beautiful, for the way she thought. She was beautiful, for the sparkle in her eyes when she talked about something she loved. She was beautiful, for her ability to make other people smile, even if she was sad. No she wasn’t beautiful for something as temporary as her looks. She was beautiful, deep down to her soul. She is beautiful’,” A tear ran down her cheek as my own eyes welled up beyond their means. “So to you both - may you have a life as beautiful as the bride.”

Even if that life isn’t with me. 

I tuned out all the clapping and cheering, and set my focus solely on her, giving me full liberty to see the way she rose from her chair and escaped the room. Not even shock could paralyze me or stop me from running after her. I sprung so fast into action, which required the maximum amount adrenaline, although I could not credit my speed to the rush, but it was more the exclusive motivation to find her that powered me. The entire time I kept calling out her name as I frantically chased her out of the venue. 

“Spencer.” 

I didn’t even see her there at first, probably because I was half-expecting her to be jumping into a cab or running away from me some more when I found her, but just as before, she made it too easy for me. She was waiting for me, standing there in no spectacular fashion. 

The wind was blowing strands of hair in her face that were not so large so that I couldn’t see the red rings around her eyes that were caused by the irritation and formation of tears. She was simply staring back at me with this look in her eyes as if she wanted to say something. 

In the silence, I could still appreciate how astonishingly gorgeous she was. How badly I wanted her. I would’ve whisked her away and taken her as mine if I knew it would make her happy. But that’s just it - I didn’t know. 

I needed her to say it. So say it. 

Say it, darling. 

Spoken through a congested voice (which spoke volumes in reality because of the mere revelation that she was indeed crying) was the plainest, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” With that, she vanished back into the restaurant, leaving me to my devices on the sidewalk. 

She didn’t say it, but she didn’t have to. 

_ _ _ 

Perhaps the false confidence in my speech or what little she had to say to me after it or even the hidden message in the book got to my head, but whatever it was, I was feeling suspiciously alright. Luckily, that feeling didn’t deviate even as I made my way to the church. 

Upon arrival, everything seemed exactly as it should be, so consequently the lack of something out of place did not adequately denote what lied just beyond those doors. Or should I say what didn’t?

Much to my mortification, it was a completely empty church. Every pew, though decorated for a wedding, was uninhabited and showed no indications of having been such recently. As I walked further in, the door automatically shut behind me with a loud bang. It would’ve shocked me more had something else not caught my attention already. 

It was (y/n), standing at the altar … completely alone. 

Suddenly, it felt like I’d been drawn in by this invisible gravity, which was now floating me down the aisle. My feet could not carry me to her fast enough.

I was sure this was some kind of dream simply by the way the light gleamed through the stained glass windows, casting banners of golden luminescence on her. It was as if heaven itself had come down with the specific delegation to illuminate the vision of one of its fallen angels. 

“(Y/n)?” My voice reverberated throughout the chapel, ricocheting off the high, painted ceilings and back to me. “Where is everyone?” 

It wasn’t until I reached a certain point in the middle aisle, that I realized her veil had been covering her face this entire time. The angel in white only turned more heavenly when she flipped the veil backward, revealing herself to me. 

It took her a moment to answer, but it was her head that answered first before her mouth did. She began shaking her head slowly, followed by a short, unequivocal, “No.”

As you might imagine, I was dumbfounded. “No?” That answer wouldn’t have made sense in the context of what I had previously asked. 

“No.” She repeated, with somehow even more definitiveness. I decided it was best to stay silent and wait for her explanation. 

“No, it wouldn’t have been better if you didn’t tell me.” 

There was my answer I’d been searching for. 

“God, Spencer - what took you so long?” 

From the breathlessness and the rushed cadence of her voice, I knew precisely what was coming next. She instantaneously abandoned the bouquet she’d been clutching in favor of her hands’ ability to pull me in. The pressure on my fragile skull when our frenzied lips finally met was not a punishment so much as it was a reward. And just as we began to find our rhythm, I slid my hand into her hair, which I began to regret when I realized just how much time and effort probably went into its structuring. I pulled away the moment I felt a carefully placed pin lodged within her hair slip between my fingers. 

True, for a moment I was unable to open my eyes afterward from the sheer elation I was experiencing, but as I came to, I found myself looking at the hairpin I’d accidentally extracted from her curls, one that I could’ve sworn I’d seen a fellow coworker of ours donning in the past. 

“Is this -”

“Yep, it’s Penelope’s.” She admitted through the most debonair giggles. After giving her a quizzical, and only partially judgmental glance, she managed to blurt out, “What? Why are you looking at me like that? It was my ‘something borrowed’!”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　

reid taglist: @s1utformgg @no-alarms-no-surprises-silence @jemimah-b99 @justanothetfangirl @kylab @rainsong01 @calm-and-doctor @inkstainedwritergirl @rexorangecouny @ashwarren32 @carooliina @fortheloveofcriminalminds @watermelongubler  @obsessedmaggiemay @k-k0129 @aperrywilliams @eevee0722 @spencersmagic @spencerreid-mgg @half-blood-dork @goldeng1rl8 @just-a-bunch-of-fandoms @random-human-person 

[bokutoslittlebird]

UHMMM EXCUSE ME BUT BOKUTO X ONEE-SAN IS JUST 😳🥵. I'm a different anon from the last one but omg, is it okay to ask more??? Maybe an MSBY Bokuto now or idk what if his onee-san finally gets pregnant (if you're okay with that). Thank yoy so much!

I got like four fics where the reader ends up pregnant I’m definitely fine with writing pregnancy lmao I’ve looked it up so many times I have a notebook of pregnancy symptoms and baby delivery. I do need to start writing down baby names tho bc my computer keeps asking me when I’m expecting

Mission : Corrupting Onee-san ; Bokuto, part 3

Kōtarō was a bit upset a week after the.. incident. You weren’t showing any common signs of pregnancy.

He researched it at least six different times, expecting to match something in your behavior to one of them. Each time he realized you weren’t pregnant, it was hard on you. Well, he was hard on you. Forcing his cock into you while you thrashed and tried to get him off, only to be met with the brick wall that is your little brother. He hardly even noticed you, often off in his own delusions until after he spilled his load into you. Even then, your fucked out face and overstimulated hole always had him raring to go again, this time with his focus on how good you made him feel.

With it being a month into his stay at your house, you wondered if your family would get suspicious about it. When he told you he’d be trying out for the MSBY Black Jackals, it fell into place. That’s why he was staying at your house, with the added bonus of being there if you needed anything. From someone else’s perspective, it would seem like he was a golden child with a heart of gold. In your eyes, you just saw a monster with a goal and determination to see the goal through. Kōtarō never shied from any questions your son had, either. Answering every question quickly and maturely, as if he knew the kid would ask it. He’s able to manipulate you and your son but you can’t do anything to stop him, not when he holds power over you.

Kazuki loves his uncle, his Oji-san a lot. You know he does. He’s always enjoyed visiting your parents’ house to see Kōtarō who would tell him stories, but you find he often lets his adoration for Kōtarō blind him. In his eyes, Kōtarō is a perfect human being and can do no wrong.

“Oji-san?” Kazuki’s little head pops up from under the table. You jump at his sudden appearance, especially if he came from under the table. With Kōtarō having you firmly placed on his lap, you wonder how your son would see the situation.

“Yeah, squirt?” He still smiled at Kazuki, not seeing anything wrong with the situation. Not seeing anything wrong with the way he has a steel grip on your hips and keeps rubbing his hardening cock into your clothed pussy.

“When you both go to bed, why does mommy scream?” Your eyes widen at his question, panicking. How do you answer that? He’s so young—

“Oh! Mommy has some bad nightmares, but it’s okay! I’m there to take care of her!” Kōtarō wraps his arms around your middle, warm hands sliding along your stomach. “Isn’t that right, mommy?”

“Yes, Kōtarō, it—“ your words were interrupted with a shriek, feeling Kōtarō pinch the skin on your hips.

“Mommy, are you okay?!”

“Yes, dear. I’m fine. Uh, daddy just startled me, that’s all.” With the new situation and lack of anyone else, Kōtarō wanted to fully move into the ideal family life. Including his title. Kazuki didn’t bat an eyelash, just nodding and eagerly going to play with his toys. A present from Kōtarō.

“We talked about that, nee-san,” Kōtarō’s breath tickled your ear, a warm tongue licking the shell of it. A shiver went down your spine, feeling his bulge get harder underneath you. “Kazuki needs to see me as a father figure now. Especially since he’ll have a baby brother soon,”

“What makes you so sure it’ll be a boy?”

“I have faith. Need strong boys to protect mommy while daddy’s busy at work,” the talk of you having his offspring has him raring to go, a dark cloud covering his eyes as he ruts up against you. You find yourself face down on the dinner table while Kōtarō eagerly strips off your panties and your jeans. It’s nothing for him to pull his cock out of his sweats, eagerly rubbing the mushroom tip against your folds. Even if your mind and heart don’t want it, that doesn’t stop the slick from pooling into your panties and coating your folds. Your hole is nice and wet for him, ready for his fat cock to split you open.

“Kō, we- we can’t! Zuki-“

“If you keep quiet, he won’t know,” he hisses in your ear, his hand digging into the fat of your ass. It’s a warning to be quiet. Kōtarō usually enjoys your voice, how you scream and beg when he’s filled you to the brim, but now he needs you to be quiet since you’re on the table.

Pushing his cock into you is something he’ll never get tired of. He loves the warm feeling of your cunt and how tight your walls are around him, you’re all sticky and wet, allowing him to slide right in. He doesn’t stop, not for a moment, feeling you holding back your moans as he bottoms out. Even with your hesitance, your body knows he makes you feel good. It has him slapping his hips to your ass while he cages you to the table, pressing you down with his chest. Your nails scratch the table, trying to find something to hold on to when his hands snake up under them, squeezing while he rams into you. It’s enough to squeeze his hands while he brings you to an orgasm, his balls slapping against your clit while your walls squeeze around him, sucking him in.

“K-Kō-chan, I-“

“I’m almost there, hold on, baby,” he whispers, his mouth right next to your ear. You don’t know whether he’s talking to you or the possibility of a child resulting in this, but you find his hips stuttering, a low groan as he stills inside you. Your walls milk him dry, another orgasm as you coat him in your own release. He doesn’t pull out, keeping still inside you while you both come down your high.

“It’s Kazuki’s bedtime. I need to tuck him in,” You break the silence, squirming as the feeling of Kōtarō’s cock in you, and his cum, has become awkward.

“I’ll do it,” he presses a kiss to your hair, removing himself from you. He’s quick to pull your panties and jeans back up, keeping his cum from mostly coming out. “After all, I gotta be a good dad, don’t I?”

With Kōtarō constantly leaving the house for practice with the Black Jackals, he leaves you alone. Taking care of Kazuki was your only chore, really. With Kōtarō earning plenty of money and you having the insurance money from your recently deceased husband and daughter, you were not financially unstable. Most of your money had gone to special pills to prevent pregnancy, making sure you had one each time after Kōtarō spilled inside you. Labeled as vitamins, you easily took them all the time in front of Kōtarō as he didn’t bat an eye. They seemed to work, suspending the pregnancy as each day you turned out and took the test, only one line popping up.

You thought you were safe.

When your vitamins went missing, you didn’t know where to turn. After the table sex and the bedtime routine, you needed those pills. Looking through each cabinet, you couldn’t find it. When you asked Kazuki, he seemed innocent enough. The only possibility was that Kōtarō had found out and taken them out. You had to wait until he returned from practice before you could confront him.

When he finally popped through the door, Kazuki went to go hug him. “Oji-san!”

“Hey, hey, hey! We talked about that, squirt,” a darkness looms in his eyes, but his smile is bright and blinding.

“Sorry, daddy. I’m not used to it,” he looks downright guilty, as if he did something wrong. Kōtarō’s big hand plops on top of Kazuki’s head.

“It’s alright. You’ll get used to it eventually, especially once you have a little brother,”

“I’m gonna have a little brother?!” Bouncing on his feet, Kazuki turned to you. The smile you sported was more of a cringe, but you nodded.

“That’s the plan. Daddy, can we talk?” Kōtarō eagerly follows you, handing a new toy to Kazuki as if he doesn’t have over 20 new toys. Kōtarō doesn’t stop in front of you, rather hugging you close to him as you feel his hardened cock rubbing against your leg. “Kōtarō we need to talk. About serious stuff.”

“If it’s about those Plan B pills, I flushed them down the toilet,”

“Wha- flushed? Those were my vitamins!”

“You aren’t taking anything that risks serious health problems if you don’t take it. Not only that, you’re not under any prescription medications. From now on,” he says, voice low and commanding. Pulling from you, you look into his eyes to see something sinister in them, as if his delusion is becoming tangible. “You’ll be taking what I give to you. No more caffeine, no more wine before bed, yes I know you drink a glass while getting ready, and no more vitamins without my permission. After all, our future is dependent on this.”

With his declaration of claiming you, officially deciding to prevent anything that could stand in his way, you felt sick as you took another test, the single line being joined by a matching one. You couldn’t hide it, you couldn’t throw it away, he’d know the truth regardless. You always showed him negative results, so the test going missing would mean he knew it was positive. Kōtarō waits on your bed — his, too, now — as you weigh your options. With shaky hands, you open the bathroom door as he perks up, his face smiling as if he knew the answer already. With his hair down and still damp from the bath, you see how attractive he is, his muscles flexing as he gets up to see the result. Showing him the plastic piece, he can’t hide his excitement.

“I’m gonna be a dad! You’re gonna be a mommy! Well, we are, but this time for reals!” He’s so excited, it’s easy to find yourself smiling with him, caught up in the excitement. When he puts you down, it’s on the bed and he’s quickly crawling to cage you in. “I say this is cause for a celebration.”

“Kōtarō, what about mom? And dad? And our sisters? They’ll find out eventually, won’t they? We’ll be disowned,” your panicked voice stops him, straddling you as his hand goes to his chin. As if he’s thinking.

“Well, lets just cut ties with them. I’m a member of one of Japan’s Division 1 volleyball teams. I make enough money for us to be stable comfortably, not to mention the money you have from insurance. That way,” he licks his lips, leaning over you again, “I can have you all to myself,”

[monster-bcrn]

SPOOKY’S 100 FOLLOWER SHOUTOUT!

Okay for real this is the fastest growing blog I’ve ever had hehehe. Never expected Grundy to get this popular this quickly!

Freaking love this zombaby and I’m so glad y’all love him too! As promised, gonna shout out some fantabulous bloggos that helped get Grundy to where he is today. XD

@akasupergirl/ @azombieme (I FREAKING ADORE GRUNDY AND KARA AND LIV. I swear Grundy’s loyal to Kara like he was to Shayera and Jade and Liv is totally his baby sister and is gonna protect her from.....everything. :P

Even pigeons, because they’re legion.)

@thecatgoddessbast (A blast from the past! Glad to see you again after I rampaged and caused chaos as a certain deranged pincushion of a mushroom way back in the time before present. XD

Now I get to do that as a zombie. :D Win/win!)

@starcityvigilante (OLLIE. FFFFFF-okay for real I’m HYPED to plot wacky ideas with you. Grundy has a MASSIVE grudge against Green Arrow and I’m like......*push these two together* you both get along right now.)

@folcire (We literally just started talking and I’m loving your Ivy already! Can’t wait to see how Grundy grows to see her the more he talks to her because they’re both sassy plant people that way. XD)

@themartlans (FFFFFF-J’ONN. Everyone’s favorite green uncle :D I freaking adore him and I HATE how the most he ever interacted with Grundy was him being tossed into the bay. >_<

They really need to talk more, and MAN! That Injustice verse of yours is SICK. Definitely hyped for making Grundy into an insurgent and a good zombie instead of Supes’ lapdog.

( Look at this face....LOOK AT IT.)

@blackwingsbluedings (One of the best Dick Grayson’s out there and definitely loving seeing Grundy be less smash and more “......hug?” They both need hugs I swear.)

@marvelousdamsels (We haven’t talked much but I adore your muses and I just hope Grundy doesn’t come off as too weird or clingy.......wait.......that’s......literally Grundy.....

:D)

@theirfirstexperiment (GRUNDY ON A RAMPAGE YOOOOOO! Better run fast. XD)

@amazonexile/ @gothamprens/ @captainstevertrevor ( Freaking love your muses and I love seeing Diana and Bruce actually WANT to help Grundy. It’s too easy just beating on Grundy and I love seeing them actually bother to try to get to the gentler side of the Hulk’s crazy cousin. XD)

@justiceebound / @nighttfight ( *slams fist on the table* YOU ARE AWESOME! Your Shayera is awesome, your Bruce is a national treasure and I can’t wait to throw Grundy at Supes and Diana, because these guys need a big reconciliation thing after all the chaos from literal years of slugging it out.

And I LOVE it. >:D)

@ofamazonia 

@theamazondiana   (Both of you are AWESOME Wonder Women and MAN I love plotting ideas. I’m tired of seeing Diana being turned into too much of a warrior while negating her role as a peace-maker and y’all NAIL her kindness and wisdom and need to give everyone a chance. Freaking LOVE IT!)

@raininginkyxto (LOL I always love imagining Grundy in Marvel and now poor Weasel is kind of stuck with him. XD Man, if the Hulks meet Grundy then that poor bar is going to really get smashed.....)

@notatomo (GIANT. Man I loved that movie as a kid and I LOVE the subsequent giant robot and tiny kid works inspired from it (example being the CRIMINALLY under-appreciated Sentinel series by UDON.) Can’t wait to see what happens when Grundy talks more to someone bigger than him. XD)

@liminalstctic (GRUNDY HEARTS TINY GIRL. XD Yeah he’s trying his hardest to help her. ;A;)

@dolceclavier

@gobsnacc

@adrenalinesaint

@ninelivesruined

@yellowskinnedwackyman  (CREEPER! I’ll forever ADORE these two butts because they’re team Tree Lobsters.)

@collidingxworlds/ @thecursedhellblazer (I. Love. Your. Constantine. I swear I have so much fun writing Grundy trying to get drunk (and failing) and learning to cuss up a storm while still being a mad lad ready to throw down with mega-zombies to protect his tiny friend.

DC, make this friendship canon or so help me Grodd...)

@chaosmultiverse (I love your Klarion so much! He’s so much fun! XD And Teekl for the epic win!)

@raichoose (Herbert West and Solomon Grundy? THAT aIN’T GOOD! D:>)

@gctjinxd (Freaking LOVE your Jinx! LOL how she manipulates Freeze and how Grundy isn’t even REMOTELY phased by her powers. Like he is TOUGH. Even bad luck won’t stop him.)

@killcrcroc (BIG BAD KILLER CROC! I love your Waylon and I adore how he has a collection of watches and that awesome suit. XD Croc definitely deserves more love since he’s much smarter than he looks, and tough enough to even get Grundy to back down in a serious fight.)

@babydxhl (Baby Doll is criminally underappreciated and I love how she’s the opposite to Grundy. She looks child-like but is very crafty, mature and knows how to get what she wants, while Grundy is physically strong and big enough to bully his way into anything he wants, but is very simple and child-like and would rather watch the birds. XD)

@theednygma (An awesome Ed Nygma and I love how Grundy is so unsure of everything yet still goes along for the ride as a support. XD)

@sleightlyoffhand (BUNNY MAN! Okay the idea of Josiah monching on carrots in Grundy’s pocket makes me smile so much. XD)

@thanagrian (BIRD-NOSE! Honestly every time I think of Grundy and Shayera I get the feels big time. These two definitely deserved more than just two episides to give them a unique friendship.

(I love that STAR Labs mission so much in Injustice. XD)

@the-arkham-librarian ( I love Eliza so much! She’s crafty, stubborn, sweet and kind and just cares about everyone so much when few don’t. Grundy grew so attached to her I swear she’s like his little sister at this point. XD And he’s totes the best uncle along with Eddie.)

@fatherdamned ( I LOVE YOUR RIDDLER OMG! He’s so snarky but man he is SO DAMN FUN to write with! Grundy is there for his green friend, no matter what!)

@fartemis-crockpot

( I freaking LOVE Artemis and Grundy, especially in the Injustice Society stuff. Yeah Grundy’s been a butt before but he genuinely likes and cares about her and the rest of the team and I’m like....

Look at these bunch of a-holes. Yeah they’re a family and even if they’re bad.....they’ve got each other. And that’s what counts. C:)

@powerhours/ @lastofmars (Green dad? Green dad. I love your J’onn so much and I’m like *throws Grundy at green dad* Here give this disaster some love. XD)

@gothamdad (YET ANOTHER AWESOME BATMAN. :D)

@redsleuthed (TIM! I love Tim and I swear these two should talk more because Grundy doesn’t WANT to fight and I think just letting someone hear him out would help him immensely.

Plus that stuff with Freeze? Poetic cinema.)

@themusespace

@12thlevel​ (On this blog we stan socially awkward green boi with angery grandpa genius mastermind. XD)

@pluckyingenue

@seekthedarknesswithin (SHADE! I love Shade in Justice League where he constantly throws Shade at everyone so you can imagine how excited I was to see Shade on Tumblr! We haven’t done much but man.....even Grundy was excited to see an old friend from the Injustice Society/ Injustice Gang.)

@youstolemycoat (Okay, hands down, Nick Necro is so much fun to plot with. His Robin verse is so fun too and poor Grundy tries to help but a certain birdy won’t let him. XD)

@ufotm (Tiny alien baby. :3)

@thetrigonborn

@kitfreeman

@partcfyouruniverse/ @diamondcladclown ( An awesome mun and my goodness her Harley is EPIC! I love the metas about Harley too and you just GET HER. And that????? Is the sign of an excellent writer and mun.)

@bigbadkillercroc ( I love your Croc and the brotherly bond he has with Grundy! It’s so refreshing to see these two bonding instead of Grundy tearing off Waylon’s face like he did in the Solomon Grundy mini-series. :C)

@blizzardmuses (I LOVE YOUR MUSES OMG. Your Batgirl?????? I ADORE HER. I love Freeze as a member of the Birds of Prey and I love tossing Grundy at your muses because the guy needs love and an excuse to smash.....and I really love both lol.)

@starfirechan (You’re Starfire is so freaking CUTE! I love how she and Grundy get along so well since they’re kind of two misfits that aren’t very well-versed in city life. XD)

@gotham-crusader/ @maximummuses (One of the best Batman and Damian Wayne RPers out there! I have a lot of fun with our threads and even if they fizzle out there is so much heart to them that they’re some of my absolute favorites no matter what muse I put on. C:)

@teufortsquidman (PRAWN! Okay, a giant mega-zombie and an Eldritch abomination? Yeah they’re gonna be good pals lol. XD)

@tragedybcrn (Hands down one of the BEST Batman RPers I’ve talked to and plotted with. I love how Bruce helps Freeze and even Grundy try to be better than just crooks. Grundy though has had so many bad experiences that he can’t trust anyone anymore unless there is some SERIOUS help. But he’ll learn to at least try to trust Batman.....because Batman was genuinely nice to him.)

@krygothite ( I freaking LOVE your Bane! We haven’t written much but FFFFF0yeah he’s epic. XD And Grundy is kind of nervous about bringing Bane to Slaughter Swamp because Bane is tough but not kaiju-sized gators and snakes tough....

Or....maybe he is.....let’s test him. >:D)

@batvvmn

@redwinefangs (VAmpire Batman? Vampire Batman. We have an epic trifecta of vampire Bats, Freezy-wolf and zombaby Grundy and I LOVE it. These three are so much fun to plit ideas around. XD)

@bclaur

@stcrshnes

@titanicscionofthestars ( I freaking LOVE Sara! All across my blogs I love her and the way you write her! And I swear her reaction to Grundy being impaled????? MY HEART. ;A;)

@jcinthedance  (JERVIS! Okat for real I love the image of Hatter and Grundy just enjoying a tea party at the asylum and being weird dorks. XD)

@adventurepunks (I absolutelky LOVE your Zatanna! She’s so fun and I’d love to plot more with her! :D)

@shesquiinnsane

@laughter-in-white (YOU????? Are??? Like the BEST Joker. Hands down. Your Croptop J is so much fun to plot with and he’s funny and being dramatic for Bats. And Grundy is like ‘yeah he’s crazy but he’s my crazy.’)

@yourfavoritesidekick

@smartvulpix (* glomps on you for being epic*)

@thehouseofivo (Your Freeze and Julian are AWESOME! Love throwing my guys at them both lol)

@lil-miss-romano

@sweet-tea-solly

@slauhter

@occultsleuth

@wiisectrpillar

@wonderlandcarpenter

@gunborn

[moonah-rose]

Eavesdrop

A quick alternate to Earshot, but set in canon S2 rather than NPL, where the demons focus on Michael for their taunting.

*

Second book in on the top shelf. That’s the one to pull to unlock the secret door hidden in the wall behind Michael’s desk. She’s supposedly the only other being, besides Janet, in this micro-universe privy to that bit of info. It leads to a hallway that extends to a secret chamber filled with a bunch of Earth collectables along with, recently added on her suggestion, a mini-arcade with classic game machines and a karaoke stand. The walls were sound proof, obviously.

She’s not here to escape a lecture from Chidi about messing up the laundry by hanging out in her demon pal’s very own ‘bud hole’ this time. Her ear is pressed to the closed panel after sealing herself in, waiting for the big Satanic tree to arrive.

To her surprise, and slight annoyance, he hadn’t arrived alone.

“You shouldn’t be getting drunk like this. What if the humans saw you? Everyone here is supposed to be abstinent of all vices!” Michael had grumbled, a ruckus of giggles behind him.

“That’s the point, dummy! It’s a ‘Purge’ night!” Vicky cackled; “Tell ‘im again, Gunner!”

“I got the idea off this human movie - one night, we’re allowed to do any shirt we wanted without consequence! We can drink, smoke, do drugs, stab and bite to our black hearts content!”

“NO! Definitely no stabbing! Or hurting any of them...Physically!” He’d struggled to make that last detail sound natural.

Good save, bud, Eleanor had thought.

Another demon, Petra, Eleanor thinks, had groaned; “Ugh, you are such a buzzkill lately. Can’t you see how awesome this idea is? Think about how wasted Eleanor is gonna let herself get! That dork, Jason, is gonna be high as a kite and it will make Chidi and Tahani wanna cower inside their homes! It’s genius!” 

Eleanor had almost let herself be excited for the idea of trying to make the most of this supposed ‘torture’, similar to the one at Tahani’s party, which even Michael had said she hadn’t done too bad at acting and preparing the chaos sequence the next morning. She could hear the worry in Michael’s response though, being surrounded by three hundred demons, losing their inhibitions and wanting to let off steam in the most ‘passionate’ way possible, had the potential to go very wrong. For all of them.

As she listened, Michael’s attempts to reign in his rogue employees soon descended into outright pleading, which only gave him more scorn in return.

“Look just...remember what our goal is here. I get that you’re all frustrated but we’re doing so well and all I ask is that you don’t go too far on the humans, please.” He’d tried to ask, nicely. Wrong move.

The laughter nearly shook the building.

“Jeez! If you love these humans so much, why don’t you fork them?” Bambadjan teased.

“Nah, let’s face it, not even those cockroaches would wanna go near that disgusting skin suit with all it’s musty folds.” Vicky responded; “...Oh, what’s wrong, Mikey? It’s not like we’re insulting ‘you’ after all...Unless you’re starting to feel a little too cosy in that costume of yours.”

Eleanor’s stomach twisted on his behalf. She knew how much he loved that suit; he was so forking vain, after all. But then again, is it vanity if it’s not really his body? He just wishes it was.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Michael responded, quietly.

“Then prove it, dude! Take it off! Strip! Todd goes streaking every night.” Gunner encouraged.

“You know I can’t! It’s not the same for me.”

“Maybe I’ll take mine off tonight. Imagine how much Mendoza will freak out when he sees a giant acid snake coming for him after too many mushrooms!” Vicky joked; “It’s still ten times better than any torture method you’ve come up with for them, Mike. Maybe melting their brains by revealing your demon form will provide us some results.”

Is it really that bad? Eleanor was naively hoping there was some sexy bald goat-man underneath that suit. Dude was so shifty about it, like he didn’t wanna spoil the mystery. Was it more than that? Was he ashamed?

“You’ve all made your point, have your Purge and I’ll clean up the mess tomorrow. Just go easy on the humans - I insist.” Michael sounded so tired.

“Oh he ‘insists’!? Did you hear that guys? Mikey, who failed his own experiment over eight hundred times, wants to ‘insist’!” Vicky sneers.

“Well I insist that he shuts his fugly food hole and leave the masters to our job!” Petra cackled; “And he gets back to trying to fork his paperclips or whatever shirt you get up to here.”

That sounded painful, Eleanor couldn’t stop herself picturing it.

“Jeez, Mike, you always were a loser but there’s really no hope for you, is there. Before you were just the quiet nerd no one wanted to hang out with because of your weird fixation with Earth-people. Soon you’re gonna be known as the idiot who failed his first experiment; even if the rest of us do manage to salvage it for Shawn, we’ll all know the truth about how badly you suuucked!”

It took all of Eleanor’s strength not to shove the panel open, stomp over and grab Vicky’s hair to slam her face into the desk. They all just followed him in there to bully him?! They were the losers.

“C’mon, guys! We should have known he wouldn’t have wanted to join our party, it’s not like he’s used to being invited to any.” Bambadjan added, inciting more giggles.

“See you in the morning, dumb-ash. Be up bright and early to clean up our shirt, as you say, chop chop!”

Counting to ten to contain her rage luckily meets up with the sound of the door closing, the demons exiting the building.

She carefully opens the secret door, seeing Michael sat in his chair, hands folded on his lap, eyes cast down. When he hears her soft footsteps, his head turns, expression shifting to try to cover the wobbling lip she’d briefly caught sight of. He sniffs and rubs his upper lip with his hand.

“Eleanor!” Michael straightens up; “Were you there the whole time? What if they’d seen you or...sensed you were there?”

“Relax, man, they didn’t see shirt, it’s cool.” She puts her hand up; “...You okay?”

He looks to the side, forcing his ‘superior’ smirk, “Uhh, yeah, of course! Why wouldn’t I be? Just...having a bit of workplace banter, as they say.”

“Didn’t sound like ‘banter’ to me, dude.” She edges closer, slowly, knowing that if he’s as much like her as she knows, he’s gonna be like a wounded tiger right now.

Getting too close, too quick, is gonna get her eyes clawed out. She would know, she’s swung a few claws herself.

Michael sniffs, struggling to keep his mask on; “M’fine, Eleanor, really. You better go prepare for this Purge or whatever they were talking about, go enjoy yourself or...make sure the others are safe-.”

His words are cut off by her weight falling down onto his lap, arms looping around his neck as she embraces him. Fork it. Screw being slow and steady; the demon was about ready to cry.

“Wha....What are you doing?” Michael stutters, stiffening.

“Hugging you, idiot...Sorry, I mean that affectionately,” She says against his ear.

“W-why?”

She shrugs, still hugging him tight, shuffling on his knees; “’Cause you need it. ‘Cause it’s the quickest way to let you know that all those things those demons said was garbage. Fork, have they always talked to you like that?”

His silence answers her question.

She squeezes him again; “Damn, no wonder you’re as new to this whole friend thing as me.”

“Demons insult each other all the time, Eleanor, it’s how we compliment each other. We’re meant to enjoy it.”

That made zero sense. 

“But you don’t....do you?”

Michael breaths in deep against her. Then she shakes her head, leaning into her shoulder.

“That’s ‘cause I’m a freak...I’m wrong, just like they say...like Shawn says...I’m just a failure of a demon.”

“That’s a good thing in my books, man.” Eleanor pulls back, looking at him, admiringly; “You might be failing as a demon but, I have it on good authority, you are rocking it as a newbie human. And I know you think we’re all gross and stupid but...I know you love us.”

He wrinkles his nose, trying to look as though he denied it, yet refusing to. His eyes gaze into hers, a rush of color brightening his cheeks.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to say it, I know you’re not quite ready there yet.” She knows herself how difficult it is to say those three words, to anyone; “But we’re your friends. We want you on our team, Michael, not just ‘cause it stops you torturing us but...Because you’re a cool guy to be around, when you’re not giving paperclip showers or putting us in purple space bubbles.”

A smile threatened to crack on Michael’s face as he squirmed beneath her. Was it really this easy to make an all-powerful being look so shy and bashful? It was adorable.

She moves her hand up to his cheek, thumb stroking below his eye, reddened with unshed tears.

“Also...I feel kinda obliged to confess something.” She says, “This skin-suit? Your skin-suit? What Vicky said was bull-shirt. All of it. Not only is this suit as much you as whatever demony essence you got going on underneath...But it’s also not bad looking either. I might even go as far to say ‘handsome’. In like a Richard Gere in Pretty Woman way.”

“R-really?” He looks hopeful for a second; “I mean...I know it’s gorgeous, but I wouldn’t expect...I mean I wouldn’t want you - or any human - to ever wanna-.”

She cuts his babbling off again with a kiss on the cheek.

He’s frozen now.

Eleanor grins; “That prove it for you? You know me, I don’t give out pity kisses.”

Michael squirmed again, biting his lip, mumbling something which might have been ‘gross’ or ‘weird food holes’, but he doesn’t move his hands away from where they’ve found the small of her back.

“Hey...how about we do one quick bit of karaoke before we go brief the others on tonight. You can pick the song.” She says, giving his bow-tie the smallest tug.

He smiles, touched, then nods; “Sounds good...”

“Cool. Also, don’t open that drawer on your desk until you’ve properly cheered up - I rigged it with a pie to get thrown in your face as revenge for cheating off my paper earlier!”

“Oh, pies are the best prank! I wish you hadn’t told me now, you’ve spoiled the surprise.”

Eleanor giggles as she takes his hand, leading him to his bud-hole; “You know me, demon buddy. I’m always full of surprises.”

His fingers squeezed hers; “That you are.”

[dontasktheradiodemon]

Cuddly Date Time

Alastor & Telly @usedhearts have a date night and completely ignore their movie and snacks because Alastor found a list of questions for partners to ask each other.

And so they ask each other a million questions.

It's very nice.

Telly

Date night! Telly had the Eggs set up the projector on the bridge, and pull in one of the chaise lounges. He had a bowl of popcorn, and mixings for drinks.

And he wore just a t-shirt. He was a comfy snake tonight.

Alastor

Date night! Never content with one snack where multiple would do, Alastor had spent the last couple of hours in the kitchen, putting together bacon-wrapped pineapple, stuffed mushroom caps, and a couple dozen crostini each topped with a random assortment of whatever looked fun in the fridge. He'd discovered he liked hand-feeding his partner, and by god was he *gonna.*

The longer he lived with Telly, the more obvious it was that he needed to get himself more casual clothes; but for now, he'd make do with a t-shirt (stolen from Telly's stock) and his bath robe to get comfortable. He swooped in with a tray of snacks, summoned up a side table to set it on, and slid his arms around Telly as he sat. "Why, hello there~"

Telly

Telly smiled, leaning into Alastor's side.

"Hello to you, too. Fancy seeing you here." He laughed and kissed Alastor.

"Are we ready to go?" He lifted the remote, to point backwards at the projector.

Alastor

He returned the kiss and settled into Telly's side. "Ready when you are!"

Telly

"Here we go!" He clicked the remote and the lights dimmed and the movie started. That done, he wrapped his arm around Alastor, turning to kiss his cheek.

"So, what culinary delights did you make for me to try this time?"

Alastor

Alastor hummed along to the opening notes of Music Man, then glanced over to his tray of food. "Mushrooms, bacon-wrapped pineapple—I thought you'd like a little tropical fruit—" smooch, "—and a veritable rainbow of crostini treats!" He'd sort of tried to stick them in rainbow order. He doesn't quite remember rainbow order. "We had some odds and ends of jams and cheeses and pickled things, so I got creative."

Telly

"Oh, sounds tasty! I will leave it up to the discretion of the chef which I try first." He smirked and winked.

His eyes flicked back to the screen for a moment, and he hummed.

Alastor

"Well, in that case..." He'd gotten the pineapple specifically for Telly, so he plucked that up to offer first.

Telly

Telly opened his mouth to accept the pineapple. He hummed as he chewed, and nodded. "Oh, that is delicious!"

Alastor

"Good!" Alastor was constantly amazed at how gratifying the little things were these days. Things like Telly's little hum.

He picked up a mushroom cap to offer next. "I'd forgotten how much I enjoy the first song! With all the train sounds." That said, he's already only paying about 40% attention to the movie. The movie is mainly an excuse to cuddle.

Telly

"Oh yes, it's quite ingenious!" Telly turned his head to glance at the screen before focusing back on Alastor. He took the next bite and his face scrunched a moment, before smoothing to contentment.

"Mm, interesting!"

Alastor

Huff! "Is that interesting good or interesting bad? I can take them if you don't like them."

Telly

"Interesting good! It just wasn't the flavor I was expecting them to be." He grinned and picked one up to offer Alastor. "But I _will_ share."

Alastor

"Why, *thank* you! Don't mind if I do." He took the bite then kissed Telly's thumb before he sat back to chew.

Telly

Telly followed as he sat back, pecking his cheek. "You looked so _indignant_ just then, it was adorable."

Alastor

"I did not," he said good-naturedly. "I happen to know for a fact I was smiling the whole time."

Telly

"Yes, you were! But I've started to identify your different smiles. That one was definitely indignant." He nodded for emphasis, even as he fought to keep his face in a mock serious mask.

Alastor

"Really!" He laughed, grinning wider. "Well, what's this one, then?"

Telly

"That's your 'I'm amused at my partner-in-crime's antics' smile." He giggled.

Alastor

"Close! But you missed the utter adoration."

Telly

"Oh yes, how could I miss that!" He laughed and leaned to kiss Alastor.

Alastor

He returned the kiss, then leaned in to nuzzle Telly's neck. "Say. It occurs to me that I'm not paying terribly close attention to the movie, and I can't help but notice you aren't either. If you don't mind paying a little less attention, I picked up a game that might be fun to play?"

Telly

"A game?" Telly tilted his head, smiling at the nuzzling. Sometimes it still sent a thrill down his spin that Alastor was here with him, like this, and he felt it now.

"What sort of game?"

Alastor

"Well, considering the topic we were just on..." He pulled out his phone with a flourish. (It was hard to flourish with a cell phone, but he was determined to make it work.) "Questions to get to know each other better! I don't think there are any about smiles, but it's a fine list nonetheless. Personally, I always love a good interview—and I know I still don't know half as much about you as I'd like to."

Telly

Telly blinked. "Oh! Well alright, that sounds fun."

He grinned and kissed Alastor again. "Alright, go for it. First question."

Alastor

"Okay! This list here has about two hundred questions and I narrowed them down to only the ones I want to know the most about you—so, naturally, I have over a hundred." He laughed and scrolled through the list. "Let's see, let's start with an easy one—Do you prefer living in the countryside, in a town, or in a big city, and why? I know you've moved around some, and it's hard to tell how an airship counts."

Telly

"Hmm," Telly said, stroking his chin as he pondered.

"I do enjoy city life, with all the people-- we as long as I can separate myself from the majority of them. But I adored my time in Dover when I was alive. The crashing of the sea as I worked was a great focus."

Alastor

"So away from all the city noise, down by the seashore?" He considered that. "We'd have to move a few rings to find a proper shore—how do you feel about prerecorded ocean sounds? I think I can swing that much!"

Telly

"I do like those, it's always fascinated me how they could replicate things like that."

Alastor

"So do I! Sound effects in general are an under-appreciated art! I've got a wide variety of things I listen to to fall asleep, and background sounds like that are high in the list!" His smile turned sheepish. "Or—used to be, anyway. Nowadays I usually listen to you instead."

Telly

Telly blinked. "Listen to me? My heartbeat?" He tilted his head.

Alastor

"And your breathing." He is, in fact, still capable of being a little self-conscious about his moments of sappiness.

Telly

Telly glanced away and for the million and first time he was glad he no longer blushed. "That is....very sweet and romantic, love."

Alastor

"Oh, is it!" He looked a *little* less sheepish. "Here I was worried it might be a bit too much."

Telly

"No, darling, the fact that you fall asleep to the sound of my heart and breathing is definitely not 'too much'." He smiled and leaned over to kiss him.

"Well, next question, yes?"

Alastor

"Well, when you put it *that* way, it sounds charming." He returned the kiss. "Next question!" He handed the phone over to Telly. "Your turn to pick one. Interview the hell outta me. I'm ready for my closeup."

Telly

Telly took the phone and inspected the list of questions, humming softly.

"Hmm, let's see..." He scrolled down. "How about this one. 'What is the most thrilling-slash- adrenaline seeking thing you would consider doing?'"

Alastor

"Oh! Well? Hm." A pause. "Is that counting things I've already done, or only things I haven't tried yet?"

Telly

"I think only things you haven't tried yet." Telly read over the question again. "Yes."

Alastor

"Oh, well then!" He tipped his head back while he thought. "You know, I've always thought skydiving sounded fun! But it's hard to find an instructor and pilot that I didn't think would get me splatted on the sidewalk because they were too terrified of me to do their jobs right." His eyes lit up. "Say, this thing doesn't get high enough for skydiving, does it?"

Telly

"I don't think so." He laughed, shaking his head. "But if you ever want me to toss you out to give you a briefer experience, let me know."

He paused, humming again. "Now I'm curious, though, what was the most thrilling thing you already did?"

Alastor

"I'll keep it in mind!"

He winced. "Oh, I talked myself into that one. And here I didn't even get to the question about relationship dealbreakers first. But, uh... hunting people for sport?" He laughed self-consciously. "I kept meaning to bring it up, but there's really no easy way to work that into a conversation."

Telly

"You did mention something about being out there to kill when you died. So, you hunted people?" Telly's tone stayed completely casual-- this was Hell and he'd been here a while, one got used to most things.

Alastor

He hadn't *thought* it was going to be a problem, considering what Telly was up to when he died, and considering everything Alastor got up to that Telly already knew about—but you never really knew how someone was going to react. And if Alastor knew anything about mass murderers, it was that depending on their motives or methods, they couldn't even get respect from other mass murderers. "People and deer, usually. But by the end, the deer were mainly a consolation prize and an excuse to get close to the real prey."

Telly

"I see." He stroked his chin. "How many do you think you killed? Did any get away that you know of?"

Alastor

"Oh, only two or three dozen tops," he said modestly. "I'd have to ask how many the infernal treasury credited me with, but even that number wouldn't be quite all of them. There's a few I shot and left that I never saw show up in the papers, so they might have got away, but none I know for sure. "

Telly

"Hm! Well, no wonder you wanted a hunter rifle for your present." He grinned and laughed. "Alright, next question for me."

Alastor

"That's it?" He raised his eyebrows, surprised. "You know, I always kind of thought that one would generate more discussion. Huh." He turned back to the list of questions to scroll through—and picked up another snack to feed Telly while he looked for a question. "Here's an intriguing one—what are you deliberately ignoring, even though you know you should deal with it?"

Telly

Telly took the offered snack with his mouth. He hummed, thinking as he chewed.

"I don't think that I'm deliberately ignoring anything right now?" He squinted, and his head tilted. "So, only unknowingly ignoring, then." He chuckled.

Alastor

"Well, tell me something you're unknowingly ignoring!" He said, like a little shit.

Telly

"Obviously, I don't know what those are, Alastor." He rolled his eyes.

Alastor

"No? You're positive?" He grinned impishly. "Well, all right! No skeletons in your closet, I suppose!" He passed the phone back. "But next time I'll get something interesting out of you."

Telly

"Yes, yes, next time." He took the phone back and scrolled through again. "Hmm, how about this: What calms you down the most?"

Alastor

"Oh." A long pause. And then a tiny wince and a mumble, "Do you know what ASMR is?" It's worth noting that he's more self-conscious over this than the serial killing.

Telly

"Vaguely. But tell me more about it." He leaned in, grinning malevolently.

Alastor

Ahem. "*Well.* When I was alive, and we were all still trying to figure out what to *put* on the radio, some of the earliest programs were, just... musical programs with sort of a vague plot narrated between them. And when I say 'vague,' I mean 'today John Doe is driving into town, let's play a bunch of songs about farms and meadows and bridges because that's what he's driving past.' And I appreciated those plotless little shows. But they weren't too popular—people wanted more stories in their stories, so they went away." He was going somewhere with this, really. "And then a little after I died, shows really started pushing the envelope with what they could do with the *sound* on radio, you know, with sound effects and the like, getting really experimental with it. And I tell you, I ate that up! I probably spent most of the forties with headphones practically glued to my head—and this was before they started offering the high-quality headphones for sinners that don't have their ears on the sides of their heads! And uh, that—that's more or less what ASMR is. Like those early shows with nearly-plotless plots, with the music taken out and copious sound effects to support the plot instead. That's... that covers most of the appeal." He did NOT make eye contact and he WAS embarrassed.

Telly

Telly blinked. Well. He hadn't realized that was such an in depth topic. He sat quiet as he processed a moment and then nodded.

"So you like it because it feels familiar?"

Alastor

"Not exactly, no—more because it... has those things I already liked." Mumble, "And it makes my ears tingle." Mumble mumble, "And sometimes it's nice to pretend I can get a haircut from somebody who isn't afraid to look me in the eyes."

Telly

Telly smirked, leaning against him. "Well, sometime you'll have to show me one."

Alastor

"Really?" His brow wrinkled. "Well—alright. But fair warning, I've probably oversold how interesting it is. I mean—the people who are interested in it find it interesting, but..."

Telly

"I at least would want to hear it once, just because you like it so much." He kissed Alastor's cheek.

Alastor

"Oh... sure, then. I'll see what I can find for you." He returned the smooch. "I'll try to avoid the more esoteric ones."

Telly

"Yes please, darling." He purred. "Next question?"

Alastor

"You know... I think I want to ask you one that you asked me." He grinned. "What's the most thrill-seeking thing *you'd* do?"

Telly

"Thrill-seeking...." He pondered that for a moment, finger tapping his chin again.

"Probably seems typical for me, but I think it would be a great thrill to finally attack Vox."

Alastor

"Hah! Put *that* one at the top of the list! Oh, I hope that by the time we go for him, he's so outmatched that he's *boring*."

Telly

"Yes, we can hope!" He laughed, grinning wider.

Alastor

He tugged Telly in to plant a firm kiss on his cheek. "I just love when we're on the same page."

Telly

Telly purred, turning to kiss Alastor's lips. "I love _you_," he muttered, wrapping his arms around him.

Alastor

"I love you, too." It's something he still has to practice saying without his breath shuddering; sometimes there's still a little static hitch. But it's coming more easily.

Telly

There was still a thrill that went through him, hearing Alastor say it back-- a thrill that made him beam and kiss him all the more. He sighed happily against his lips, cuddling close.

Alastor

He slid an arm around Telly's waist, holding him closer, humming along to the love song in the movie as he kissed Telly.

Telly

Telly let the kiss keep going for a while, before pulling back, a grin on his face. "I also love kissing you."

Alastor

"I think I've developed a taste for it myself." Understatement.

Telly

He laughed. "Yes, it seems you have." He leaned in for another kiss.

Alastor

He wasn't about to get any complaints from Alastor. Just a hungry return kiss.

Telly

Telly pushed closer, arms and tail coiling tightly around him. He pulled back after a time, and giggled.

"Oh, look at us, making out during a picture show like teenagers!"

Alastor

"Ha! I never made out at the picture shows as a teenager!" He paused thoughtfully, then added, "And as a teenager *you* never went to a picture show. But what's time to the dead?" He laughed. "I wouldn't have enjoyed it then, anyway."

Telly

"We simply must get the teenage experiences we never had! Even if they are ones that we wouldn't have had otherwise!" He laughed, kissing over Alastor's face.

Alastor

He laughed as he was smothered in kisses. "I didn't *want* that teenage experience! Do you know, *do you know* how *hard* it is to ask a gal you're friends with if she'd like to see a show with you, and then actually *see the show*? There I am, early twenties, with some dame desperate to introduce me to her lips, trying to watch Mister Buster Keaton, and—and..." His laughter momentarily overtook his ability to speak. "I should've taken a cobra to the movies. Do you think they'd have let me? Just escorted one on a day trip from the Bronx Zoo?"

Telly

"No, I don't think so. A python, maybe." He grinned and laughed, nuzzling close to Alastor. "But just think, you can take _this_ cobra to a picture show!"

Alastor

"I certainly can! And you're a better conversational partner!" He pulled Telly deeper into the nuzzle. "I can't think of anyone else I'd rather ignore a movie with."

Telly

Telly grinned wider, chuckling against Alastor's neck. "Mm, I think we lost track of the questions sometime around the second kiss, but I certainly don't mind, do you?"

Alastor

"No, not terribly." He kissed Telly near start of his hood. "Although I'd like to loop back around to that sooner or later. There's *so much* I want to ask you, and I feel like we never get to talk enough."

Telly

"Hmm," Telly hummed, sitting up, but taking Alastor with him. He situated him on his lap and grinned. "How about one asks a question and the other has to answer whilst being kissed?"

Alastor

"Ooh. You know, that *does* have its appeal." He straddled Telly's tail, looped his arms over Telly's shoulders, and pressed their foreheads together. "*However...* not to be the cliché libidoless talk show host we all know I am, but—I really do want to *talk* with you. Without the conversation playing second-string to a distraction." He offered a crooked, uncertain smile. "If that doesn't sound too boring for you? I don't want to hold you hostage in a conversation you've lost interest in, mind."

He was still hesitant, still self-conscious whenever what Telly was looking for physically was less than what Alastor was currently looking for. It was easy enough to say "no" when he was flat-out uncomfortable with an activity; he could even let himself think that he was giving Telly an opportunity to be gallant by graciously reigning in his own desires for Alastor's comfort. He felt less sure of saying "no" when he was simply not terribly excited by the idea at the moment. He felt like he was the one giving up the opportunity to be gallant. It was a new quandary for him, and he didn't enjoy his own uncertainty.

But thus far honesty had never steered him wrong with Telly, so he'd tell the truth first and figure out the rest later.

Telly

Telly purred as their foreheads pressed together, and then gave Alastor a squeeze. "Of course. We can just talk. As long as you don't mind if I simply _must_ occasionally interrupt you because the urge to give you a kiss is _unbearable_."

He leaned back to dramatically press the back of his hand to his forehead, before cracking open an eye and grinning. He readjusted himself to be snuggled back in close.

"I forget whose turn it is, so why don't you start us off again."

Alastor

Alastor's grin widened again, as much with relief as amusement. "Far be it from I to deny you if you're in such desperate need! Why, I might need one or two myself." And just to prove it, he planted a quick peck on Telly's forehead. "*I* kept track. We got off-topic because you said you wanted to take down ol' blockhead and I thought it was the most beautiful thing you said today. So it's your turn to ask one."

Telly

"Oh, alright." He looked around, finding the phone from where it had fallen in their kissing frenzy. He scrolled through it before making a face briefly.

"You know, there's something I've wanted to ask that's not on this list, and what better time than now?" Telly smiled, albeit sheepishly, turning to glance away as he worked up the nerve to ask his question.

"So, to preface this, I know when it comes to bedroom things, there are things you definitely do not want to do, one being me touching you in the--" He gestured vaguely to Alastor's crotch. "But I was wondering, what's your opinion on.....blow jobs?" He muttered the last word, looking away even harder.

Alastor

"Really? 'How do you feel about blow jobs,' they left that one off the list?" He squinted in exaggerated puzzlement at the phone. "How did they miss *that* one?" He tutted chidingly, then turned to Telly. "Giving or receiving? Or both? Or just as a general cultural phenomenon?"

Telly

"Well, I assumed that since you don't want me doing anything--" He gestured again to Alastor's crotch. "-- _down there_, that it would be giving."

~~He is still not making eye contact. He is not Looking.~~

Alastor

"Well... actually, I've been thinking about it." A dramatic pause. "And I'm still thinking about it."

Okay, now that he'd got the instinct to be a troll out of his system: "Here's the thing. Most available options, I've got clear opinions on and I don't have to wonder about them. Hand jobs? Sure, I've been giving them to myself for over a century, no problem with that. Anal? God hung a sign over that door that says 'exit only,' and while I'm perfectly happy to ignore that sign to sneak into a theater or a gourmet kitchen, I don't feel compelled to break into the back door of my sewage facility. And so on! But blow jobs, though?" He shrugged expansively, clueless.

"It's always looked disgusting, but that was when I was considering the prospect of all that hair and sweat and the crust of poor hygiene. None of that's a factor here. On the other hand, I generally don't stick things in my mouth I don't intend to chew and swallow—see, that sign on one end marked 'exit only' is accompanied by one on the other side that reads 'entrance only.' Kissing is fine, licking and nipping are fine, but the idea of sticking something in there and... *holding* it? Sliding it back and forth? It's..." He trailed off. "Well—neither good nor bad. Just... alien. I can't really imagine how it'd go."

He took a deep breath. "And of course, the fastest way to find out would be to go 'Well, whip 'em out, let me slobber on them and see how I like it!' But: I don't want to offer that if I don't already *know.* I don't want to get your hopes up just to find out in under ten seconds that I hate it and I'm never doing it again."

Telly

Telly listened, giving a small chuckle at Alastor's analogies. He pondered for a moment, his hand moving up to stroke at his chin. "Well, the thing is, how _will_ we know unless we try? That's a thing in science: you form a hypothesis and then conduct experiments to see if you're correct. You know that if something doesn't work out, or you _don't_ end up liking it or wanting to do it again, that's fine, yes? I'd rather us try and fail, than never try at all for only fearing the failure.

"Now, I'm not saying we jump right in and try it out right this very minute, but sometime in the future, why not give it a shot? The worst case is you don't like it, and then we know and we don't have to wonder anymore. Best case? We have another position we're both comfortable with.

"And stemming from that, if you don't like the idea of sticking the whole thing in, then there's always just licking-- or even eating me out, my slit where they're usually stored _is_, ah, capable of experiencing that as well. There's variations we could test. And if you don't like them either, no harm, no foul." He shrugged, one hand going to cup Alastor's cheek.

Alastor

"Don't scientists also do research first? To base their hypothesis on what they already know? I'm confident I could do more research." He leaned into Telly's touch, eyes sliding shut. "I'm... not ready yet." Which was embarrassing as all hell for him to admit—him, *Alastor* the *Radio Demon*, not ready for something. "I want to know that at least I haven't overlooked something obvious just because I rushed it. I—" he winced, "I don't consider myself a nervous person—but the thing is I don't want to be the least bit nervous while I've got a very delicate piece of equipment between my teeth."

Telly

"And that's fine, too. Like I said, we don't need to jump into it _right now_, or anything. We can wait until you're ready to try." He smiled and leaned in to give him a kiss.

"Alright, I think it's your turn now."

Alastor

Kiss! "All right, what have we got here..." They were down in the relationship and sex questions. He scrolled a bit, barked out a "HA," gave Telly a shit-eating grin, and read, "How well do you think our sex drives match up?"

Telly

Telly blinked at the question-- before breaking into a fit of cackling. His head tossed back, his laugh was loud and echoed in the cavernous bridge.

Alastor

Alastor cackled along with him, so loud his voice took on a note of distortion as if blasting from an overburdened speaker, and he flopped off of Telly's tail and onto his side. "Pff—perfectly synchronized," he wheezed, "right?"

Telly

Telly wheezed as well, trying to get out his reply. "Oh yes, perfectly!" He flopped back, giggling manically.

Alastor

He tugged Telly down to pull him into a hug, even as he laughed. The fact that they could laugh about it was good. Even if they weren't in sync, at least they weren't in conflict. That was what mattered.

"Ahh... I'll find a real one, give me a second."

Telly

Telly's chuckles tapered off as he settled against Alastor, purring. "You're hilarious, you know that, right?"

Alastor

"*Thank* you!" Now here was a smile that could light up a room. "I know it, but I like to know you know it too." He scrolled through the list, looking for one of the more serious questions he'd wanted to ask. "What are some of your relationship goals?" He paused. "Besides blow jobs."

Telly

"Relationship goals?" He tilted his head, a confused frown on his face. "I'm...not sure? Does a relationship need _goals_? I'm happy to be with you, no matter what."

He considered for another moment. "I suppose...us being happy is a goal? Can that be a goal?"

Alastor

"Sure! It can be a goal! The most important one, I think!" He propped himself up so he could look at Telly more directly. "You're not planning all this too far ahead, are you? Besides our next raid or two and the next thing to build and a list of enemies for us to topple?"

Telly

His face scrunched briefly. "No, not too far in advance. That's where I got into....complications before, when it was all planning, no _doing_. I thought a different approach would work better this time around-- but that's about conquering, and not about _us_. Sure, my goals for Hell are important, but as long as you're by my side, I feel like....that part will go much more smoothly."

Alastor

His smile warmed at Telly's faith in him. "I think relationship goals and conquering goals overlap. Like, say, what if your goal was to conquer and rule Hell with me, but my secret little goal for us was to find a way we could permanently sneak out of Hell and live in the mortal realm? I *don't*, but just for example. Both those would affect which direction our relationship goes—so I think they'd count as relationship goals. And we'd be in trouble if we both assumed we'd get ours without talking to the other."

Telly

"That is true, I just thought that the question was more specifically about goals for our relationship by itself. But you're right! Life-- or rather, Death Goals also affect relationships!" He chuckled.

Alastor

"It could be." He looked at the question and shrugged. "Whatever gives us a more interesting answer, I think! So! I'll amend it: have any relationship goals or goal that'll affect our relationship?"

Telly

"Well, in that case, I have the goal of conquering Hell with you by my side!" He laughed, winking at Alastor.

Alastor

"You know, that's on my list, too!" He laughed as well. "Just the two for now, then? Keep it nice and simple?"

Telly

"Yes, for now!" He shrugged, taking the phone back to scroll through questions.

He hummed as he looked and then grinned wickedly. "Alright, here's one I like: 'What are some things you really like about me?'"

Alastor

"Oh! How much time do you have!" He laughed. "Where to start? I like that evil smile of yours!" He pecked Telly's lips. "I like how you embrace what got you damned, instead of either denying it or moping about it. I like your organ playing—and your dancing—and the way you move. I like how you can think up some insane contraption, go, 'let there be a freeze ray!' and behold, within a day there is. I like how when I look at all you can make, I really do believe that you're the one human who could beat gods and demons not by borrowing their tricks but just by being human. I like how much you enjoy my cooking. I like how you hum when you work. I like how passionate you are about your inventions. I like your taste in interior design. I like your laugh. I like watching you swim. Should I keep going?"

Telly

As Alastor spoke, Telly curled around him, his purr starting up. He coiled tighter and grinned wider, until he was beaming and his face looked near to breaking. He squirmed briefly and laughed.

"Heh! Is that all? Is there more? Please DO feed my ego!!"

Alastor

"Oh, fine, fine! I also like how megalomania looks on you when your ego's been fed! And that menacing rumble you get, low in your chest. And the way your body feels." He ran a hand down along Telly's tail. "And the color of your eyes. *And* your scales. And the fact that you're theatrical enough to keep up with me. And the way you'll dress up to go somewhere fun with me. And when I'm going a hundred miles an hour, you don't ask me to slow down, but go a hundred and five. And you enjoy torturing a prisoner or seeing a musical or burgling a mall all just the same. And you have terrific taste in weapons. And your idea of a good date is having a picnic over the grave of the man who mistreated you. And you've never been horrified by me, even when you damn well should be. And you have a sadistic streak that borders on a form of art. And you make my dead heart start again when you sing. And you can play string duets like it's nothing. And you mix your own fragrances."

Telly

Telly couldn't help the overly pleased look that grew on his face. He purred and pressed his face into Alastor's shoulder. "If I could blush, I'd be bright as a traffic light." He kept grinning against Alastor.

"Love you, dear..."

Alastor

"Love you, *mon roi.*" A smooch to the side of his head.

Telly

Telly nuzzled and then looked up to kiss Alastor's lips.

Alastor

He returned the kiss, broke it long enough to say, "—and your teeth—" and went back in.

Telly

That little addition earned him a nip, and a grin against his lips.

Alastor

He nipped Telly back, chest trembling with silent laughter. Maybe he should start keeping a list. Make sure he remembered to tell Telly about every item on it at least once.

Telly

He laughed, too, giving another nip. He squeezed Alastor with tail and arms.

"One of these days, I'm going to make you blush like you make me."

Alastor

"I thought you said you couldn't blush." Alastor winked. "I'll look forward to that day! I'd better be red as a tomato!"

Telly

"You may not see it on my face, but you _know_ when you do, Alastor!" He chided playfully.

Alastor

"I might," he said innocently. "Tell me—was all that the answer you wanted to hear? I didn't leave out anything important, did I? There's just so much to try to remember!"

Telly

"Mm, no, I think you covered your bases pretty well," He said with a grin.

Alastor

"Good!" He beamed brilliantly. "I want to make sure you're feeling properly appreciated, after all!"

Telly

"You do, you do." He laughed, handing back the phone as he cuddled closer. "I think it was your turn now."

Alastor

"I think you're right!" He scrolled slowly through the list. "We just did a couple of relationship questions... So! What are some of your earliest memories?"

Telly

"Hmmm..." He sat back, taking Alastor's free hand with him as he pondered.

"I suppose it would be my mother overseeing the governess dressing me for some function when I was very young."

Alastor

"The governess! I don't think you've ever mentioned her." Although it made sense that a noble family had a house full of help, didn't it? "What was she like? Was she the one who taught you?"

Telly

"We had a number of them over the years-- never kept one too long, Father always said they got 'overly familiar' after a while." He shrugged.

Alastor

He had to take a moment to process that. "Is that code for 'he fired anyone who started to express concern for his children's well-being,' or 'he was sleeping with the help and fired them whenever he got caught'?"

Telly

"The former. There was one governess who was especially concerned about me, when I was, oh, six or seven, I believe? She went to my mother to speak with her about something regarding me, and the next day she was gone."

Telly snorted. "It's like they expected these women whom they hired to raise and teach their children to do so without becoming emotionally invested in said children."

Alastor

"Well, *they've* got no trouble regarding their children like vessels for their legacy instead of people, why is it so hard for someone they hired to do the same?" He shook his head. "You were already worrying people at six? What kind of trouble were you in?" He hoped it was the "already making dangerous inventions" variety rather than the "unusually miserable for a six-year-old" variety, but he wasn't getting his hopes up.

Telly

"I was either very quiet or very loud, I couldn't pay attention or I focused too hard on things, etcetera." He shrugged again. "The normal 'this child is not a neurotypical child' thing."

Alastor

"*There's* a five dollar word! You too?" Alastor laughed ruefully. "Funny thing, all my teachers said the same thing. Except *they* didn't get emotionally invested." He grimaced. "But then I wasn't a noble boy—I was just somebody's bastard."

Telly

"What, did you think the compulsion to create great machines of awe and destruction and take over the world came from the mind of someone who _wasn't_ afflicted with many neurodivergencies?" He chuckled.

"But yes, a few of them were worried, and a couple more tried the 'beat it out of him' method of fixing it."

Alastor

"There's a *six* dollar word. Does it include shocking inspiration and genius beyond any other human's capacity? Because I suspected that part."

Alastor sneered, his lip curling up to expose his teeth, as if contemplating sinking them into the throats of whichever governesses had dared pull such a stunt. "I'm familiar with *that* method." He shifted to kiss Telly's forehead. "I doubt it worked any better on you than it did on me."

Telly

"Yes, I believe so! It didn't work at all for me." He chuckled. "There were some better than others-- I really hated the one that used a switch." He shuddered.

Alastor

"Yard stick," Alastor said mournfully. "I think my mother would have murdered anyone who took a switch to me, but I wasn't friends with that yard stick."

Telly

"They would smack me when I focused too hard, and then when I couldn't focus at all-- it would send quite the mixed signals." He shook his head, and leaned in to kiss his forehead in return.

Alastor

A bitter laugh. "And for some reason they think the constant looming threat of punishment *helps* you focus!" Alastor shut his eyes to bask in the kiss.

"I don't suppose you've ever talked to a doctor about that, have you? I talked to one a couple of decades ago that said these days they think poor focus is a medical thing. They make drugs for that now."

Telly

"I haven't talked to any doctors, no, but I've done plenty of research on my own! After all, I like to think I'm smarter than most doctors who would end up in Hell!" He laughed.

"I've figured out that I likely had ADHD and a random assortment of co-morbid disorders, such as anxiety, depression, possibly mild OCD, and anger issues!" He seemed proud of that-- the fact he'd been able to suss all that out.

Alastor

His eyes lit up. "Oh! You too!" A pause. "The ADHD part, I mean." Says the man with depression oozing out of every pore. "Why, I should have guessed! Look at us, two peas in a pod!" He'd never thought discovering he has the same extremely specific mental condition as someone else would ever be something so *delightful*, but here he was. "Do you *want* drugs for that? I know a reliable adderall dealer."

Telly

"I've tried a few, they don't work right for me-- or at least, I don't like how they work for me." He shrugged again, and then smiled.

"I had an inkling that we might share that, though!"

Alastor

"I can't say I'm *surprised.* I should have suspected it when I learned how often you skipped meals to keep working." He tilted his head. "I've got a recipe for a focus potion I could teach you? All natural except for the ritalin, but we can leave that ingredient out if you don't like how it affects you." The ritalin may, in fact, have been the part that made the focus potion work. (When he said "all natural" that description was including the cocaine.)

Telly

"We could try it-- but mostly, I've found ways to manage without, mostly. I'd be game for trying, though." He smiled. "Is the focus potion what you use to keep yours in check?"

Alastor

"It helps! Potions, drugs—and I've been told *coffee* helps too, although I never would have made the connection myself." He shrugged. "I was about a hundred when I got a diagnosis, I'm sure by now all my tricks to 'keep it in check' are so intrinsic to my life I'll never realize that's what I'm using them for! What about you, what are your 'ways to manage' it?"

Telly

"Mostly using the Eggs to help me remember to do essential things, but otherwise letting my focus run its course. Of course, that doesn't always work, as you know."

Alastor

"Oh! Yes, of course—I delegate all my 'essential things' to my little shadow helpers. I don't have to remember to do it if someone else is doing it."

Telly

"Exactly! It's one reason I made the Eggs in the first place!" He laughed.

Alastor

"Someday, I hope you'll teach me *how* you made them, because I'm just dying to know." He had a hard time believing magic hadn't been involved.

Telly

"It was a little of this and that, and some other things." He shrugged.

Alastor

"Uh-*huh.*" A smirk. "All right. Keep your secrets. I'll dig them out some other night."

Telly

"Yes, some other night." He grinned back.

"My turn now, though." Telly took the phone back and scrolled through. "Hmmm, 'What habits do you still have from childhood?'"

Alastor

"Huh..." He thought a moment. "This is a cheat, since we were talking about it earlier, but I can't fall asleep without listening to something. First my mother singing to me, then a record player, then radio. And now you." He gave Telly a crooked grin. "But that's not fair, you could have guessed that one! Uh... crunching leaves, splashing puddles... singing and dancing at people who didn't ask for it... counting on my fingers... humming... reading on the toilet..."

Telly

"All of those are very cute, save for the toilet one." He chuckled, giving Alastor a squeeze. "Did the seasons change enough in Louisiana for crunching leaves, though?"

Alastor

"Sure! Not as spectacularly as you get up north, maybe, and we've got some stubborn trees that don't have the sense to drop their leaves in the winter—but they change! Usually, oh..." He closed his eyes, trying to remember. "Sometimes by Halloween—every year I'd hope they would—but not always. Usually by December, though. Brown leaves all over the sidewalks." He opened his eyes again. "I'd see prettier foliage on hunting trips from time to time, especially in parishes farther north. The trees were bare where I died, I remember that."

Telly

Telly listened, his mind running ahead a mile a minute. "Is red your favorite color?"

Alastor

"I don't make it *too* obvious, do I?" He laughed.

Telly

"Was it always your favorite? Or did that change over time?"

Alastor

He thought. "It's almost always been red! Crimson, particularly. But ruby too. Green was my favorite for a bit in my twenties, and I have phases where I just can't get enough of yellow and gold, but I always come back to red." He beamed at Telly, "Guess why I like yellow."

Telly

Telly laughed and flared one side of his hood, grinning. "I think I know why. But that's interesting! Red and yellow are both fall sorts of colors, but green! That's different. Green is more spring!"

He paused and shrugged. "I don't know what it means, but it's interesting!"

Alastor

"It makes me think of summer, actually! Not pale fresh greens but those rich, warm greens." Shapes in lights appeared above him, aimless spirals as he tried to wrestle their hue away from his magic's typical red and into the greens he was thinking of; after a few attempts, he managed several spirals in shades of emerald and basil and moss and olive and hunter green.

Telly

"Ah, yes, I do like those greens! You know what those shades of green go well with?" He flared his hood again, grinning. "Gold! I've always been fond of that combination, green and gold, and along similar lines, blue and silver-- they're pairs that are rarely made because one sees more red and gold than green and gold. Blue and silver is a more common occurrence, though, but still rarer than using red, I think."

Alastor

He summoned up the swirls of color again, letting them hover around Telly's face in front of his hood. "You're right! Have I ever seen you in green? I think your Mardi Gras dress had some green, didn't it, but that was more of a blue-green. I'd like to see a real vivid green on you." He reached up to lightly, almost absentmindedly run a finger along the edge of Telly's hood. "What are your favorite colors overall? I'm guessing gold's right up there."

Telly

"Yes, that was more of a pale teal than a true green-- a sea green, as the theme would have it." He chuckled, head tilting, one half of his hood folding back to allow the motion.

"Gold, black, blue, green-- I became fond of the particular shade of pink that my eyes are after death, but before then, I stuck to deep saturated and rather dark colors."

Alastor

"You know, *I'm* fond of that particular shade of pink, too!" And then he had to look at the color to remind himself of why he liked it, and then he was just staring into Telly's eyes. Wow. He had pretty eyes. What were they talking about?

Telly

With Alastor staring into his eyes, he couldn't help but stare back at Alastor's, and he found himself saying, "You know, I think I've become rather fond of brilliant true red, as well...."

Alastor

"Yeah?" Eloquent. It took him a second to remember the topic. "I should hope so, considering I'm filling half your rooms with red these days." He slid his arms around Telly's shoulders. "We should have a green room..." Aaand pulled him down into a kiss. He distracted himself with all that deep eye contact.

Telly

He was more than happy to be distracted by kisses, the eye contact got to him, too. He squeezed Alastor, nipping his lips.

Alastor

He nipped back, eyes sliding shut, melting into the constrictive embrace. Who needs Heaven when he can get this in Hell.

Telly

Telly lingered in the kiss, lazy and slow, before he pulled back. "Mm, it's fascinating how many different ways one can find to kiss someone."

Alastor

"Isn't it?" His eyes opened a slit, and for a moment he eyed Telly's lips contemplatively. It would be very easy to just keep going... But they'd have time enough for that later, and his desire to keep talking to Telly was stronger. (When wasn't it?) "That time, I think I really did lose track of whose turn it is."

Telly

"I believe it's yours. I was the one who started us off on a tangent after you answered one." He smiled, nuzzling against Alastor's cheek, pressing little kisses along his jaw.

Alastor

"Right! Uh—" Oh he's distracted again. He tried to focus on his phone over Telly's shoulder. "What—what's something we could do to bring us closer together as a couple?" A pause. "Besides blow jobs."

Telly

Telly paused as well, face nuzzled against Alastor's, lips still there against his skin as he spoke. "Mm, I think what we're doing right now? Just...talking about things, enjoying being with one another. Maybe a few more couple bonding murders..." He laughed.

Alastor

"Ooh, more murders. I like the sound of that." He nuzzled Telly back. "What else? Something we're not already doing. I—feel like we've only just begun and there's room for us to do so much more."

Telly

"Honestly? I'm not sure! I may have more experience than you, but only by a fraction," He said, humming against Alastor's skin.

Alastor

That hum traveled down Alastor's neck and up the side of us head. His brain is jelly. "Well—think on it and let me know, would you? I want to do more for you. And with you."

Telly

"I will," He said, chuckling. "My turn?" He hummed again. "Alright, how about the same question: is there something you can think of that would bring us closer as a couple?"

Alastor

"Hell. You already took murder, what does that leave me with?" He laughed, then trailed off thoughtfully.

After a moment, he said, "I'd like if you asked me more questions about me. I know that's what we're doing now, but—in general. When I ask you about your beliefs, ask about mine. When I tell you I hunted humans for sport—ask why I did something crazy like that. If—if you want to know, I mean." Implicit: *you do, don't you?*

"I know we both know I never shut up, so I could just *tell* you, but... I prefer to be asked. I like to know you want... more of me than just my surface level. I'm still an entertainer, you know—I react to what my audience shows interest in."

Telly

Telly listened, lifting his head as he tilted it in thought. "Okay. I think I can do that. Generally, I don't....ask more because I don't want to pry."

He winced, looking away. "Another bad habit George instilled in me, I think."

Alastor

Alastor laughed in disbelief, "You mean he wasn't taking every opportunity to talk about himself? Color me surprised!" But then he'd probably just wanted Telly to be quiet. *Shut up and look at the stars.*

"Well, unlike *George*"—he said the name like an insult—"I *want* to know you, and I want *you* to know *me.* So if you wonder, you can ask. And I'll let you know if you ask something I can't talk about."

Telly

Telly smiled, softly and shyly at first and then with more confidence. "Okay. I will."

He let out a breath. "Did you ever tell me how you got started in radio?"

Alastor

Alastor beamed. "I don't think I did! It was in '24! I'd realized that New York didn't have what I was looking for, and I was looking for an excuse to go back to New Orleans, when my mother mentioned in a letter that a new station was going up and they were looking for somebody with a cultured accent to announce the evening orchestras. Well, I knew my way around a hobby radio kit, so I paid to make a long-distance call to the station manager, read off the first paragraph of a musical review in my best Broadway stage voice, and asked him, 'How about that, is that the voice you're looking for?' He hired me sight unseen!" He laughed. "I told myself it would be a fine part-time job until I could get in with a jazz band or a vaudeville troupe, something like that, but... I think part of me knew even then."

Telly

Telly smiled brightly. "Sounds like destiny to me. Now, when did you start killing? It was after going back to New Orleans, correct?"

Alastor

"When I started killing seriously, yes. I'd committed one murder before then, and..." A thoughtful squint. "Well, I *might* have got some Germans, but I don't know for sure. They don't exactly call you from across no man's land to congratulate you on your shot."

Telly

Telly's head tilted again, curiosity piqued.

"Who was your first? Kill, that is."

Alastor

"My racist grandfather who taught me the word 'bastard' when my father wasn't listening." He smiled grimly. "'Hunting accident.' *Very* tragic."

He nodded at Telly, "Who was *yours*? Was your attack on London the first time, or did you get a taste for it before then?"

Telly

"First that was fully intentional? My...business partner. He wanted to pull the funding for my work. I killed him and wrote letters to keep the money flowing."

Alastor

"Your *business partner*? You had a business partner? Who was *he*?" Alastor paused. "No, wait—'fully intentional'?" He paused again. "No no wait, tell me about the business partner first!"

Telly

Telly's face scrunched, and then flattened, and then scrunched again, as if he was trying to decide if what he was about to say was terrible, hilarious, embarrassing, or all three.

"He was Olivia's father. He saw potential in me, which is why he agreed to the engagement in the first place."

Alastor

His eyebrows went up. "Her *father.* Your—your friend's father! George's father-in-law. Him. Were you writing letters as him to *them*?"

Telly

Telly nodded, and let out a manic sort of laugh. "Yes! I made assurances everything was fine, that he was staying in Dover for a time as the sea air did him good, that sort of thing. Never suspected a thing."

Alastor

He blinked, an amazed smile on his face. "To your *own friend.* Oh, that's *cold.*" He laughed, pulling Telly into a quick kiss. "Did they ever find out anything had happened before you died?"

Telly

"To be honest, I wasn't thinking about her when I did....any of it. But no, she never knew until after my death."

Alastor

"She must have had a miserable time after you died, poor thing." He shook his head sympathetically—not *too* sympathetically, but he wasn't going to make fun of her when he knew Telly had actually cared about her. "Was it your airship you were working on when he tried to pull his money?"

Telly

"Yes. I'd hired a good few people to work on it day and night, and we were so close to finishing....though, 'close' was more like 'another two years', but back then that was _very_ close!" He laughed.

Alastor

"For something that size, first of its kind? I should say so! What made him want to pull out?"

Telly

"Well, that leads back to them, uh..._unintentional_ deaths. You see, I did not care for workplace safety." He chuckled.

Alastor

"*Ha!* I see! No surprise, having them work on it day and night!" He cupped Telly's cheek in a hand. "Did your callousness frighten him, my darling?"

Telly

"That and the, ah, _amount_ of men who died." He beamed.

Alastor

Alastor hooted. "You even sound *proud*! Were you proud at the time, or did you have to learn to be?"

Telly

"At the time, I was unconcerned. Mostly still am. They died so that my vision became a reality! It wasn't shameful-- their deaths had purpose!"

Alastor

"And a hell of a vision it was!" Although it might explain why apparently one of them had done slipshod work on the pipes; but pointing that out might sound like a criticism instead of an observation.

Telly

"Yes, well, Lord Everton was considerably disappointed in what he called a 'lack of safety' and 'lack of progress'. But I dealt with that."

Alastor

Alastor scoffed. "Oh, and what kind of progress was *he* expecting on the world's first flying ship? Did he think he'd be sailing it over the English Channel in three months?"

Telly

"_He_ thought it was to be just a submersible!" He laughed. "And he thought five years was more than a generous amount of time for it."

Alastor

"You didn't tell him it was going to *fly*? Why, I thought that would be a selling point!" He had no idea how long it was supposed to have taken to make a submarine in the late 1800s, so he couldn't comment on *that * part.

Telly

"Well, at first, it _wasn't_ but then I changed the blueprints a number of times and it just became an airship, too." Telly shook his head. "I was frantic and possessed by my genius."

Alastor

A strange look crossed Alastor's face. "Sounds like it must have been one hell of a time. In both good and bad ways." He almost said more, but paused, waiting to see if Telly had more to add to the story.

Telly

"It was, certainly, it was." He nodded and sighed, leaning against Alastor.

Alastor

He rubbed Telly's back for a moment, thoughtfully; then said, "That's probably how I would have described myself as a murderer toward the end. *Frantic and possessed.* Not by genius—and certainly not by something *forcing* me to kill—but I was... trying to make something." He said the words slowly, choosing them carefully. "I needed to take something inside of me and create it in the real world, and I couldn't stop until I succeeded." He looked at Telly searchingly, seeing whether he understood.

Telly

Telly locked eyes with Alastor, and nodded slowly. "Yes. I wanted to leave something behind, something grand, and it didn't matter what got in my way. Nothing was too high a cost for trying to complete _this thing_. I suspect it was a little different for you, with your killing, but....I thing the feeling was probably the same."

Alastor

"I wasn't trying to leave something behind, but I was trying to... *be* something, or—or *do* something, and I wouldn't be *complete* until I'd done it. By the time I died, it was almost the only thing that mattered." He took a deep breath. "It's like a forest fire, isn't it? There's nothing as beautiful as that blazing light, but it consumes everything in you."

Telly

Telly found himself nodding on instinct, and then when he realized what he was doing, he nodded more vigorously. "It starts like a spark and then just grows and grows until the blaze is all there is, and it's terrible and beautiful and you can't help but just....let it consume you."

Alastor

"And then you burn out. And then you're dead. And what have you got for it but the ashes of the life you could have lived if you hadn't kindled that obsession?" He gave Telly a sad smile. "Still. I wish I'd seen you when you blazed. I'll bet you were glorious."

Telly

"Sometimes you burn out even after death. I was still riding that blaze long after I think. At least, until..." He trailed off.

"I'm sure you could find old newspapers or broadcasts of my glory days in Hell, if you wanted."

Alastor

"Oh, I *plan* to! The only reason I haven't been devouring every article ever written about you is because I've had to read how to repair pipe organs first!" He smirked cheekily for a moment; but the mood wasn't right for that, and the smirk faded.

"I only *blazed* for... oh, I don't know, it might have been as short as my first day in Hell. Just long enough to ruin everything." He huffed. "Sure, I *really* crashed and burned a few decades later, but that was different. That had nothing to do with the murders. I think the old obsession's still smoldering, but—it doesn't consume me like it used to."

Telly

"Yes, there's something about dying and then falling from grace that does that, isn't there? I was flying high until-- that....incident. And then that failure tempered my drive...or squashed it, more like..."

Alastor

Alastor nodded thoughtfully. "Would you go back to that frantic and possessed feeling if you could?"

Telly

Telly thought for a long moment. "...No. No, I don't think I would. That fire and drive were intoxicating, but it didn't leave room for anything else. It was all just....the creation of it."

He turned to smile at Alastor, pressing his hand to his cheek. "I have things now that I want to have plenty of room for."

Alastor

He smiled crookedly back. "I don't think I would, either. I think I'm too old for serial killing now. I get tired just thinking of the kind of schedule I used to keep." He laughed wearily.

"... What if that's what it takes to conquer Hell, though?" He placed his hand over Telly's. "If I see you pushing yourself into obsession, do you want me to pull you back? Or do you want me to come with you?"

Telly

He considered that for another long moment. "I'm not sure. I don't have an answer right now-- I think that's a 'we'll cross that bridge when we come to it' sort of thing. But whatever the answer, I'm glad you'll be with me." Telly leaned in for a kiss.

Alastor

He accepted the kiss and held it for a moment, then drew back and pressed his forehead to Telly's. "We don't need the answer tonight—but I'd like to have it before we reach that bridge. Once we get there, I imagine pulling you back from the brink would take a fight. Better to know *before* then whether you want me to try."

Telly

"Yes....yes, you're right. It's just such a vast sort of question, because how are we to know the circumstances that would surround such a second descent?" He took a breath. "It would be complicated. But I don't think I'll go there again-- when I went there in life, it was from a very dark place, and the obsession became everything. I don't think I'd be able to get to that place again without something....drastic."

Alastor

"For now we'll call that a soft 'no', how's that? But we'll play it by ear. We can talk it over more in the future."

Telly

"Yes, I think that would be best." He laughed, leaning against him.

Alastor

Alastor adjusted his arms around Telly—and then, during the brief lull in the conversation, glanced at the movie. "... How long has that been off?" He laughed.

Telly

Telly blinked and looked over as well. "Goodness, I don't know. We talked through the whole thing!" He laughed.

Alastor

"And you know, I bet we had twice as much fun as we would have watching the movie!" All the same, he started quietly playing the soundtrack—to make up for not hearing it the first time. "Well, what now? The night's still young."

Telly

"Well, we still have food. And we could put on another movie if you'd like, and this time watch it." Telly chuckled. "I'm ready for whatever you wish, darling, I just want to keep holding you."

Alastor

"We *do* still have food." He grabbed a couple crostini, popped one in his mouth, and offered the other to Telly. "Oh, I don't know if I could pay attention to another movie—but I like this 'keep holding you' idea, I think we ought to do something with that."

Telly

Telly accepted the snack and smiled. "Yes, that would be good. Maybe some more kisses, too."

Alastor

"Do you know what I think about *that*?" Without waiting for an answer, he pulled Telly into a deep kiss.

Telly

Telly's eyes flashed wide for a moment before he melted into the kiss. What a night this had been.

Alastor

What a night indeed. Alastor nipped at Telly's lip and pressed closer against him; yes, he could happily stay right here the rest of the night.

[maandags]

can i have something with draco malfoy and plants

the Forbidden Forest is quiet this time of night.

granted, the Forbidden Forest is quiet pretty much always, which is mainly due to the fact that it’s — surprisingly — forbidden for students to roam and wander. for good reason, too; the man-eating spiders and the morally questionable centaurs that, among others, make up its population aren’t known to be particularly friendly towards Hogwart’s students.

this, like all the warnings your friends have bombarded you with to try and keep you from entering the Forest, did not deter you in the slightest. in fact, it just made you want to explore its woods more. and so that’s why, at twelve whole years of age, you first set foot in the Forbidden Forest. now, you only went maybe 50 feet into the Forest that first time, giggling to yourself, adrenaline coursing through your veins, hand gripping your wand — looking over your shoulder every couple of minutes to make sure the school grounds weren’t out of sight — but it was enough to give you a taste, show you the smallest of flickers of the life brewing deep inside the forest, and it left you addicted straight away.

now, four years later, your little excursions to the Forest are never more than a few days apart. you know its paths, know its flora and fauna, know every square inch of it like the back of your hand. you’re not scared anymore of going.

nevertheless, the first few steps are always a thrill. it’s the tangible change in atmosphere, the soft bed of grass beneath your feet making way for a layer of dead leaves and branches and rocks where the tiniest of creatures wriggle about. it’s not fully dark yet, so you walk slower than you usually would, allowing yourself to look around and try and recognise as many plants and beasts as possible. (another reason why you didn’t really want to stop your visits to the forest: your Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures marks have never been higher.)

after an hour or so, as you trudge deeper into the forest, the surroundings start to grow more visibly magical in nature. trees look blurred when you try to look at them directly. big leaves shift unnaturally in completely still air. sparkly birds let out trills that sound a little too human. a swarm of small, yellow-and-blue songbirds fly over. one of them swoops down and lands briefly on your outstretched arm, and you pet it, resisting the urge to bury your fingers in the fluffy plumage, knowing full well that instead of flesh and bones these birds are made of some sort of bluish-black goop that a) smells absolutely rank, b) along with sticky and very quick-hardening seems to be vaguely acidic in nature and c) is a major bitch to wash out of clothing.

the bird flies at your side for a while, trilling in response to your soft whistles, the tip of its wing tickling your cheek every other minute. you spot a few pixies, who respond to your cheery wave with a string of hoots and screeches, a cluster of three-feet-tall mushrooms pulsing with a harsh pink light, and a slow-moving cloud of gold mist, which you give a wide berth, holding your breath for good measure.

then an arrow whizzes past your ear, and your hand flies up with a gasp. your fingers come away red with blood.

you spin on your heel, hand pressed up to the side of your head, and narrow your eyes at the centaur standing ten feet away from you. ”haha, Brin. very funny.”

he levels an unimpressed stare at you. ”you know you’re not supposed to be here, Y/N.”

”you’ve been telling me that for four years now.”

”and you’ve been ignoring it for four years.”

”indeed I have.” you spin around, yanking the arrow from the tree it landed in. ”can I keep this?”

Brin glares at you. you roll your eyes but hand the arrow back to him. ”you’re no fun. that arrow has my blood on it, I should be legally allowed to keep it.”

Brin shakes his head, turning around and starting to walk back the way he’d (supposedly) come. ”I can’t even begin to explain how flawed that logic is.”

you snicker, hurrying after him. Brin might be a little stuck up, but he’s also one of the few friends you have in the Forest, and even then you don’t see him that much. ”so. how’ve things been here?”

Brin briefly glances up at the sky, and you immediately regret asking, already steeling yourself for an incomprehensible monologue about stars and the positions of planets and whatnot. if you were better in at astronomy, you probably would have been able to understand some of it, but you’re shit at astronomy, so it’s mostly gibberish to you.

but all Brin says is, ”things are stirring.”

you raise a brow. ”things?”

”are stirring, yes.”

”stirring.”

”yes.”

”the things.”

he looks down at you, eyebrows furrowed. ”I really don’t know what more you want from me, Y/N.”

you look back up at him, unflinching. ”literally anything else. ‘things are stirring’ is all I got out of you, and that’s not much to go on.”

Brin sighs, short and sharp. ”I shouldn’t have mentioned anything. forget about it. it’s not something you should concern yourself with.”

you pretend to gag. ”you sound like Bane.”

Brin opens his mouth, about to object, but stops dead, narrowing his eyes and throwing out an arm to stop you. his tail swishes from side to side and he stands still, head cocked, listening intently.

for all your joking around, you immediately shut your mouth, the tension gripping Brin all of a sudden leaking into your body as well. it’s all fun and games until a centaur gets genuinely nervous, and in those situations it’s best to watch the aforementioned centaur and do what they do. your hand slowly creeps towards your robe’s breast pocket, where your wand is stored, but you don’t pull it out yet.

Brin’s eyes flick to you, irritation flashing in them. ”someone’s here.”

you pause, not sure if this is an inconvenience or a Bad Thing. ”um. elaborate, please?”

Brin takes a deep breath. ”one of yours.”

as if on cue, the silence is split by a blood-curdling scream.

your head snaps towards where the sound came from, but it’s too dark and too far away to see. ”shit,” you mutter under your breath, before summoning a globule of light to hover in front of you and taking off in the direction of the scream.

one of you. did that mean another human? a wizard? a Hogwarts student? but no, it couldn’t be — no Hogwarts student would be insane enough to venture this far into the Forbidden Forest this late into the night.

as you follow the strangled cries of panic and yelps of pain, you start to get a dim visual of what happened, and you curse again.

Devil’s Snare. the little shits are everywhere, their roots creeping along the forest floor and waiting for any living thing to stumble across them. you’ve since learned to look out for them, jump over them and walk just fast enough to avoid getting entangled, having had a few close calls yourself.

this Snare is a particularly nasty one. old, gauging by its height and the thickness of the vines sprouting from its core. strong. fucking hell. you stop just out of reach, sending a few more globules of light to surround it as to get a better view of what the exact fuck is going on.

the person is almost completely covered in vines at this point. struggling, crying out in fear and pain, gasping for breath. the vines, of course, only tangle further around his body. after a bit of heated internal debate, you begrudgingly admit that if you’re going to help this guy, you’ll need to get closer. so you do, careful not to get too close just yet. the light you’d sent up is not enough to make the Snare let go of its prey, but it is enough to (mostly) prevent any stray vines from grabbing hold of your ankles.

”stay still!” you shout, kicking a vine away and shooting three more lights to hover around the trapped guy.

he does not stay still. in fact, he doesn’t look like he heard you at all.

in the meantime, the smaller vines have taken more of an interest in you as you approach, and you growl, muttering a spell under your breath. a straight blade of white-hot flame sprouts from your wand, and as you calmly swing it in a wide arc, the light and the heat makes the plant recoil. as you pick your way through the branches and vines, getting ever closer to the guy, whose struggling is starting to get weaker, you cup your hands around your mouth, almost singing your eyebrows with your sword of fire in the process, and repeat, ”STAY FUCKING STILL!”

”what?”

”STAY STILL. I can’t help you unless you stay still!”

a faint groan sounds, and the figure stops struggling for a split second, but the vines tighten around him and out of reflex his arms shoot out, trying to fight the pressure off his chest.

”oh my god, I cannot believe I’m doing this,” you pant, closing the rest of the distance between you with a couple big leaps, landing smack in the middle of the biggest and nastiest vines, and that’s when you discover that the biggest and nastiest vines also have spikes, because the vine that immediately wraps around your calf digs its spikes into your flesh and you cry out.

a hand flails in front of your face. you grab the wrist to which it is attached. a plan forms in your mind — a crazy plan, an insane plan that just might be the death of both you and the unknown guy. but it’s the plan you have, and thus the plan you’re going with.

with your fiery blade you cut through a few of the vines that cross the guy’s chest — and then you put your wand away, extinguishing the fire and quickly stuffing your wand in your breast pocket.

”what are you doing?” he asks, and that’s when it clicks. the indignant tone he still manages to have even though he’s being crushed to death; the curl of his lip you can’t make out in the fray but can picture perfectly in your head.

you reel back, though it’s not as dramatic as you’d have liked it to be, because a thick vine has already snaked across your back (but that’s okay, that’s part of the plan, it’s okay, it’s fine) and you only manage to be pushed back into his chest with an oof.

you wrangle free, pulling back just enough to be able to make out his face. ”Malfoy?”

recognition flashes in his eyes — nothing more than two specks in the darkness — and he says quietly, ”Y/N.”

”fucking — ow —” spikes dig into the back of your thigh — ”the fuck are you doing here?”

”I think we have other things to worry about right now,” he says faintly, grunting as he’s pushed closer to you.

you scrunch up your nose but concede, promising yourself that you’ll question him later — if you even get out of this alive. ”if I die right now, Malfoy — for you — I will come back to life so I can murder you myself.”

he purses his lips, but nods, as if to say, ”that’s fair.” it is. it is fair. little shit.

you take a breath, steeling yourself, then dive down into the tangle of writhing vines at your feet, ignoring Malfoy’s shout of your name above you.

this is where it gets gross, and where you might lose a hand. one hand comes up to your chest and yanks out your wand, and the other searches beneath you — vines, vines, spikes (ow), more vines, a single leaf, and then, finally, the disgustingly soggy pulsing heart of the plant. you give a triumphant ”AHA!” then stick your wand into the core with a squelch that makes you gag, pull out your hand and shout the sword of fire spell. the flaming blade cuts through the heart. the vines shudder — convulse — and then go limp, and you shrug them off, staggering away, gagging, tripping twice before falling against a tree and retching, a hand pressed against your stomach, taking deep breaths, trying to blink the black spots away.

as soon as you feel like you can shout without throwing up, you march up to Malfoy, who looks about as good as you feel, tear out your wand and stick it under his chin and yell, ”WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?”

you expect him to yell back. that’s how the two of you have always functioned: you shout something, he yells something back. he yells something, you shout back.

but he doesn’t. he just stands there, looking deflated and shaky and frankly on the verge of tears. ”thank you, Y/N.”

it catches you off-guard. you pretend it doesn’t. Malfoy never thanks anyone. ”no, fuck you. answer my goddamn question. what are you doing here?”

”I was following you, all right? I know you’ve been going into the Forest for ages, and I wanted to know what you got up to. that’s it.”

you scoff. ”right. you were just following me. that’s not creepy at all.”

”listen, Y/N. I don’t know what else you want from me.” he sounds tired and defeated and it makes you angry, because it’s so Not Malfoy that it’s unsettling, and the last thing you need right now is ‘unsettling’.

you throw your hands up into the air and start stomping away. ”I don’t know! I don’t fucking know. just — ugh!” you kick a dead tree stump, out of which comes charging a single fat gnome, waving a small stick and shouting an incomprehensible string of what are without a doubt profanities you’ve never even heard of.

”Y/N.”

”what?!”

”you’re bleeding.”

you stop walking, dropping your face in your hands and bursting into tears.

ten seconds. that’s all you allow yourself. ten seconds until you’ve got to get yourself together; ten seconds to scream and cry and sob your heart out. ten seconds, and then you take a deep, deep breath, wipe your cheeks and say, ”right,” and start walking again.

for a moment you don’t hear anything, and you think Malfoy is going to stay behind — but then he sighs and jogs a few steps to catch up to you. you walk in silence for a long time. the only words you say is when you quietly warn him not to step too close to a certain rock, or not to touch a certain flower.

when you absent-mindedly pull a leaf off a green plant and press it to your nose, inhaling deeply, he looks to you in alarm. you roll your eyes. ”it’s mint.” you inhale again, letting your eyes flit closed. ”it’s comforting.”

a little bit later, and there’s a faint rustling to your right. Malfoy sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth; you rub a tired hand to your eyes. ”I was almost thinking you’d just left.”

Brin purses his lips, picking you up and wordlessly depositing you onto his back. you let your head drop against his back. ”thank you, Brin.”

”I would have helped you.”

”I had it under control.”

”I know.” he extends a hand towards Malfoy, who looks at it for a split second, then his gaze flits to you; you give a small nod, and a half second later he’s sat behind you, hands carefully resting on your hips.

”you…” your voice falters. ”you don’t have to do this, you know. Bane… and Magorian… surely they don’t approve of this.”

”they won’t know,” Brin says quietly. the forest around you slowly shifts back into a more peaceful atmosphere. the songbirds return. moonlight starts to filter through the foliage, and you take a breath you hadn’t realised you’d been needing.

a few hundred feet before the edge of the Forest, Brin stops. ”this is as far as I go.”

Malfoy slides off his back, then holds a hand for you to take, and you do, because you’re tired and wobbly and unsure whether your legs will hold your weight.

”thank you,” Malfoy says. you cast him a sideways glance. that’s the second time he’s thanked someone tonight, which is two times more than you thought he was capable of.

you nod curtly. Brin bows his head, then levels his gaze at you. ”I hope I don’t see you again, Y/N.”

you give him a lopsided grin. ”no promises.” and for the first time, something like a smile peeks through the centaur’s serious facade.

the last trek back onto school grounds is uneventful, bar the fact that the adrenaline has now completely worn off, and you start to feel sore all over, and you realise that your left leg — calf and thigh — is indeed bleeding. a lot. you have scratches on your arms and a nasty one on your cheek as well, and you’re covered in muck and grey slime. you probably look like something straight out of a Muggle zombie apocalypse film.

”you know the forest well,” Malfoy says as you step out of it.

you’re too tired to argue. ”yeah,” you reply simply. ”I love it.”

”you’ll be going back?” there’s a slightly incredulous hint to his voice, like he doesn’t quite believe it himself — you almost died. how could you possibly want to go back to such a place?

but the truth is that you do. you do want to go back. because the forest has been more of a home to you than Hogwarts has ever been. because you love its trees and its bushes and its weird magic plants and its pixies and centaurs and birds of enchantment. you love everything about it. even the near-death experiences. that’s what makes it fun.

”I will,” you say. ”I will be going back, Malfoy.” it sounds a little too much like a challenge. it sounds like you’re saying; try and stop me. I dare you.

he merely nods. he’s taken out his wand and cast a simple light spell, and the glowing tip of the wand sways as he walks. in the light, his eyes reflect gold. ”good.”

your eyebrows shoot up with the speed of a thousand Firebolts. ”excuse me?”

he grins; a boyish, sharp grin, that makes your stomach do a very irrelevant flip. ”I would have been disappointed if you didn’t.”

[fae-redux]

im stuck on you

S: People usually find their soulmate by following their heart (the closer you are to your soulmate, the warmer you’ll feel). Remus has been pining for so long, he doesn’t know how to handle himself.

P: dukeceit

happy birthday, @littlemisschameleon!! it’s corona and i can’t give you a physical present so have some dukeceit soulmate au!! i hope you like it :D (here’s an ao3 link if yall like that formatting better)

***

Remus sends the letter because Roman’s teacher thinks a penpal will help him learn English. Also, because Roman thinks it’s stranger danger and won’t. 

If he gets kidnapped, at least there’s a chance for his heart to feel warmer whichever direction his kidnapper goes. Fact remains, he’s freezing and bored and he’d do pretty much anything to not be.

He neglects to say that in the letter. 

His penpal instead receives the gift of approximately two full pages of fun facts about different species of mushrooms and how fast they can decay different animals. It’s pretty well written, if he says so himself, and it’s all in English because he’s polite, not because it has to be.

Any who, Ms. Andrea says she’s not going to read the letters before they’re sent, and Roman is only required to send one at a time, so Remus signs it with his own name and lets it go.

He doesn’t expect the letter he gets back to be so nice.

His penpal’s name is Janus and he doesn’t like to eat mushrooms unless they’re in fried rice, but he loves how mushrooms look.

There are little mushroom doodles that line the bottom, along with a few snakes, which Janus goes on to say is because they’re his favorite animal because of the way they unhinge their jaws.

Remus has never wished to be in the same school as someone more.

***

The next letter they write to each other includes their emails, and Remus takes full advantage of it to send Janus all the deadliest snakes he’s found out about in the library, and includes a pain scale with human accounts of getting bitten.

Janus sends back a heart and fun facts about the deadliest octopi in the ocean. 

He feels his heart get slightly warmer when he hugs the monitor, and when he loudly proclaims he found his soulmate, he gets a laugh from Roman.

He asks him what his plan is here, and Remus tells him to shut his fuck and keep his nose out of it if he doesn’t want to get smacked.

***

When they’re old enough to have phones, they exchange cell numbers, and Remus gets daily updates instead of sporadic emails.

He finds out that Janus likes to dress a little more on the punk side and that he wants a million tattoos as soon as he’s old enough. Janus tells him about foster homes and how he thinks he might be sticking with one of the other kids he met who is a little older than him, but is sort of like him. 

Janus is smart, smarter than anyone he’s ever met in real life, and he wants to go to law school because he knows he can talk his way out of hell if the devil asked him to try, and Remus is inclined to believe he could do it if he wanted to. He thinks through all his words, his every movement, ten times before he follows through, unlike Remus’ zero-thought policy.

He learns that Janus likes boys, but there aren’t really other people in his hometown like him, and that he wants to study in a big city someday so he’s not so alone. 

He learns that Janus wants to keep talking to him forever, or at least that’s what he tells him.

Remus in turn tells him about his brother, and their origin story. He tells him about how everyone else just seemed to have grown out of curiosity and how he feels out of touch with other people his age sometimes. 

There’s still a part of him that feels like he’s been touching all the stars in the sky, but none of them have set his orbit quite right, leaving him drifting endlessly.

He tells him that he might like boys too, but he doesn’t really want to tell his mom because she already rags on him for everything else, like wanting to go to art school and his knife collection and how he’ll never meet his soulmate with an attitude like his. 

He doesn’t tell him about the small seed of doubt in the back of his head that Janus won’t want to stay if he ever meets him in real life. 

He tells him he wants to keep talking forever too.

***

They don’t ever talk about meeting in person. For the first time in their lives, they’re in the same city, but every time he goes to bring it up, seeing a picture of Janus in the financial district, or near his favorite Starbucks, something makes him hesitate. 

Remus wants it so bad, it feels like all the air in his lungs isn’t real sometimes, or like something cut up his insides then spooned all the pieces out to replace them with ice. Still, the thought lingers in the back of his mind that Janus hasn’t suggested it for a reason. 

They still talk all the time though, whether it's to rant about professors, or homework, or siblings, or just about something they saw recently.

Janus tends to hyperfocus on cases he works on in his internship sometimes, and when he’s allowed, he tells Remus all the gory details and grins when he revels in the fun, while also giving valuable insight that contributes to his defense.

Remus in turn sends him the paintings that don’t involve Janus’ face and stupid selfies he takes at random food carts around school that are rumored to give you instant food poisoning. 

He makes sure to send progress updates on the projects he really feels good about and sends him updates on Roman and his new trends, whether they be six second dance videos or random quotes he’s said to him of varying hilarity based on how stupid they are.

The longer he lives in the city, the more Remus knows his heart feels warmer. He’s been feeling it since the start of the semester, but he hasn’t said anything yet, at least not to Janus. Roman is free game, though:

“Roman, I swear to everything fuckable within a ten mile radius, he probably goes to the same college as me,” Remus groans, his feet propped up on the back of the couch as he lies upside down. “I get warmer every time I go to campus.”

“There’s a million colleges in New York, so he really might not be,” Roman says reasonably, doing his eyeliner in the hall mirror. “Besides, he’s pre-law, right? There’s no way.”

“You’re just being uppity because you fricking met your soulmate on campus,” He responds grumbling.

“You’re right, I am. My soulmate’s a genius and I am very lucky to have met him when I did,” His twin’s pride infects the room, and he throws one Roman’s unnecessary couch pillows at him. “If you make me screw up my eyeliner, I’m going to run you through with one of your stupid wall-katanas.”

“They aren’t stupid, and I’m never going to see him face to face at this rate, so you might as well,” he snipes back, his purely decorative wall-mounted katanas be damned.

Roman raises an eyebrow, as if his mocking will affect Remus at all, “I’ll be back in like three hours, then you can mope your heart out, okay?”

He gathers his things from the hall table as Remus yells at his retreating back, “I don’t mope, I’m not you!”

“No, you’re not, and that’s why you don’t have a hot date tonight!” he hears as the door shuts.

He wishes he kept the pillow to suffocate himself with.

***

When Roman knocks on Virgil’s door, he doesn’t expect the person who answers the door to be so familiar, and he’s sure the answering party doesn’t expect him either.

“I thought-Sorry, I thought my roommate’s soulmate was coming over,” Janus says, a flash of recognition in his eyes, completely stunned in a way Roman has never heard while listening in on his brother’s phone calls. 

“Yeah, no, I’m here for Virgil. Janus, right?” And at the immediately suspicious look goes, “Oh, for fuck’s sake, you send my brother at least five selfies a week, and he agonizes over your beauty for ages after every single one, you have to know I would recognize you on sight.”

“....Roman?” he asks, like he doesn’t actually know what was going to leave his mouth when he said it.

“That would be me,” Roman just goes for the back of his neck, before wincing at the Remus-like gesture. “So, uh, Virgil?”

“Yeah, yes!” Janus opens the door fully so fast, Roman almost expects him to run himself over, “Do come in. Would you like anything while you wait? Water? Tea?”

“Nah, I’m good,” Janus hovers for a moment like he’s going to say something, but bites his lip instead, “Want to know how my brother is doing?”

He shifts elegantly, though his chains rattle, making the adjustment more obvious, “Of course not, what do you take me for?”

“A liar, you definitely want to know how he’s doing. Well, you’ll be happy to know he lives fifteen minutes away,” Roman grins, “And he’s home alone right now, pouting about wanting to see you, if you wanna go over.”

“It would be rude to leave you unattended in my home,” Janus replies, his voice strangled. “Arrangements can be made to get Virgil to hurry up.”

Leaving the room in a swift movement of leather and metal, Janus nearly vaults the couch in his haste. Roman can hear him yelling at Virgil to “Hurry up, you nasty, spider-pet keeping bitch,” and his soulmate’s yells to “Get out of my room, you tattooed skank!” Then an offended gasp, “How dare you?” and the snarling response, “You barge into my space and-”

“You hooked up with my soulmate’s brother-”

”Who is my soulmate, idiot!”

“Would you just-”

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

Janus leaves the room and, in Roman’s line of sight, straightens his shirt as if he’d just been in some sort of scuffle. “Virgil will be out shortly, if you wouldn’t mind giving me the address.”

“You two are going to be related if you marry my brother, you know?” Roman grins as he puts the address into Janus’ phone.

He takes the phone back and rolls his eyes, “We were fostered by the same family. We really can’t get any closer, but I’ll keep that in mind.”

“We were adopted by the same person, Jan, why do you always conveniently leave that part out?” Virgil grumbles as he enters the room. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, and be safe.”

Janus sniffs turning up his nose, “I’m going to get violently murdered before I even make it there,”

“Don’t test me, I will put off this date,” he pushes Janus’ head forward so he can’t look up at them. “Be safe, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Janus mumbles, fixing his hat and his chained belt, “Do I look okay?”

“My brother is a trash rat,” Roman responds, louder than he means to, “You will look like a model next to him and you will constantly get questioned as to why you’re in a five foot radius of him.”

“So, good?”

“Fantastic,” Roman confirms. “Now have fun.”

Janus double checks his pockets for his phone and his wallet, and then he books it in the direction of the twins’ apartment.

***

For the first time since he moved in, Remus feels himself getting warmer by the second. It’s not as though he’s moved from his spot going over every single thing that could currently be going wrong at Roman’s date, but somehow, his heart is pounding like he has.

“What do you see?” He asks it, vaguely aware it can’t actually respond. Either his soulmate just figured out where he lives, or there is something extremely important happening in the city.

Picking up his phone to check, it lights up with a text from Roman reading ‘Sending a pick-me-up your way,’ but he has no idea what it means.

After two minutes of constant heat, he searches for major events happening nearby. Nothing.

Five more minutes pass, and he thinks he might die young to a heart attack.

There’s a knock on the door.

His self preservation instincts must be completely nonexistent at this point because he yanks the door open with a knife in his hand and freezes. There, right in front of him, is Janus, who he thought he’d never see, and who was always too good for him, and yet, perfect for him in every way and, “I could have accidentally killed you with one of my many wall-hung weapons because you didn’t knock like Roman,” and that is the first thing he chooses to say to his soulmate.

“I wouldn’t have appreciated the trip to the hospital after I just sprinted over half a mile to see you,” he pants a little, “I know we didn’t talk about it, but Roman showed up at my door, and I knew you had to be nearby, and I just-”

Remus yanks him forward into his arms, and sighs in relief as the heat abruptly goes away, “Mr. I-think-everything-through needed to be impulsive, huh?”

“Yes,” Comes the fervent response as he clings to Remus’ body. “I missed you.”

“I thought you didn’t want to meet up. We didn’t even-”

“I know,” And Janus’ mouth brushes his cheek, just barely, because he’s not tall enough to reach, and Remus bends down, and kisses him soundly on the mouth, the feeling running through his body like a new kind of heat and comfort, and it feels like he’s done it a million times, even if it’s the first time.

Breaking apart, he notices they’re just standing in the doorway of his apartment. “Come inside, sweetheart,” He wiggles his eyebrows salaciously, Janus bursting into laughter as he pushes him back. 

“Nope,” He grins fondly, and this is the first day of the rest of their lives, it hits Remus, “I think I’m going to cause problems on purpose.”

“Fair enough, honeybee,” He tugs at the yellow cuffs of Janus’ leather jacket, pressing a kiss to a tattoo at the edge of his hairline, “Want me to carry you? Roman did say he was sending a pick-me-up, and I can definitely pick you up.”

He’s giggling, Remus delights as he scoops him up, kicking the door shut behind them, “If you call me one more pet name, I will combust, and you will have no soulmate to be with, is that what you want?”

And he says what he wants to say, because Janus has never once cared about the shit that leaves his mouth, “Biscuit, I’ve waited so long to see you, even death couldn’t keep me away from holding you.”

Janus pushes into him and kisses him again, putting a hand in his hair, tugging slightly to get the angle he wants, “I wouldn’t want it to,” Then after another kiss, “Love you.”

Remus sighs into his mouth, his world aligning so he could be the orbit to Janus’ sun, the whole system correcting itself. “Yeah,” He holds him just a little bit tighter, “Love you, too.”

[plantbruno]

I would pay you to write a fic from Abbacchio's point of view where he has to be like =_= Bruno's still hot as a tree

(ao3)

It was, Abbacchio thought with no small amount of despair, exceedingly inconvenient that Bruno’s backyard had become his safe place.

When Bruno had been a corpse, Abbacchio had often retreated to the overgrown, almost unsightly garden in the back. In the first few weeks of settling into the house, he’d kick at rose bushes and savagely shy away from weeds, but as time crawled on and Bruno stayed frozen in Giorno Giovanna’s basement, Abbacchio lost his edge.

Unlike some assholes, he was aware that this change could not entirely be contained to his behavior in the yard. He’d taken hits for Giorno entirely divorced from duty, eclipsed by a growing and terrifying drive to protect the kid. He’d made meals for Narancia and Trish that he knew they loved even if he fucking hated lasagna half the time. He’d learned how to sign.

Abbacchio stood rigidly in the backyard, rooted to the spot as he watched Bruno in his new body, unearthly head tilted up to the sunlight.

Uncanny, he thought dumbly, belatedly, mournfully. He clenched and unclenched his fists, knowing that he was staring like an idiot, cataloguing all the inhuman ways that Bruno carried himself, some characteristics like his preternatural stillness due to his time as a corpse, others due to the… fucking plants.

He must have shifted enough that Bruno had been able to identify his shadow because he tilted his head towards Abbacchio and said, “What?”

Frozen, Abbacchio stared blankly at a spot of fungi on what had once been Bruno’s shoulder. Giorno had referred to Bruno’s new body as an ecosystem, and it was more apparent now than ever as the disparate parts of him swayed against the gentle tug of the breeze. There were flowers on his shoulders, bending lazily against the direction of the wind, but that spot of fungi was too sturdy, too rooted to waver.

Uncanny, he thought, and that was all.

Abbacchio turned around and went back inside. Whatever. He’d find a new place to sulk.

 ***

Mista and Abbacchio were cramped into the tiniest crawl space Abbacchio had ever seen in his life, and he was starting to get irritated.

The stake-out wasn’t going well, and the close quarters were sweaty and gross. Abbacchio had never been a claustrophobic person, but when Mista wiggled a little bit to free his arm, Abbacchio felt like snapping.

“Let’s play eye-spy,” Mista said.

“No.”

Mista elbowed him, hard, and Abbacchio had no way of knowing whether or not it was intentional. “What are you staring at?” he complained.

With a jolt, Abbacchio realized that he’d been cataloguing the elegant way that lavender flowers were shifting with the breeze. His eyes traced the way that they’d grown through the cracked sidewalk, and he flushed, casting a glare to the side so that he wouldn’t keep looking, but his gaze caught a patch of mushrooms huddled close to the crawl space.

Mista had wriggled closer to try and follow his gaze, and he blinked at him in confusion as Abbacchio banged his forehead against the closest available surface.

“You like the flowers, bud?” Mista asked tentatively, bafflement beginning to tangle with a faux-sweet, alarming sort of suspicion.

“No.”

Mista shifted to better look at Abbacchio. “Thinking about Bucciarati, bud?”

“No.”

“Oh my god.”

“I said no.”

“Dude—”

Abbacchio didn’t fucking care how important this mission was. He scrambled to shove himself outside, and he tried to turn his sprawling tumble into a roll with minimal success. He stood, trying to preserve his dignity, and scowled at Mista. He held up a finger. “Number fucking one—”

Number One materialized, looking at Abbacchio with huge eyes, and Abbacchio tried to ignore it. Bad choice of words.

“—I was bored and zoning out. Secondly, Bruno doesn’t have a fucking monopoly on flora.”

“Flora,” Mista echoed with a terrifying cocktail of delight and horror.

Abbacchio gritted his teeth. “Listen—”

“I’m all ears, bro.”

Abbacchio shut his mouth with a click. “This mission is over. I’ll get Moody Blues to figure this shit out tomorrow. We’re leaving.”

“Like,” Mista was saying as he stumbled to his feet from the crawl space, “I knew nothing could stop you from still being into Bruno—”

“Mista.”

“—but I didn’t expect this level of enthusiasm.”

“This is out of line and unprofessional.”

“You want to fuck a flower, dude!”

“I do not.”

“Trees doin’ it for you now? Am I going to catch you staring longingly after trees?”

Abbacchio said, “This conversation is over,” in his cruelest voice, a voice that somehow still did not hold a candle to Bruno’s baseline, and Mista had the nerve to laugh.

***

“How was your day?” Bruno murmured listlessly from his place at the kitchen table, hands offered.

Abbacchio took Bruno’s hands and abruptly went still, cataloguing the roughness of the bark. It was a mesmerizing, gnarled shape, contorted to imitate his bone structure, and Abbacchio could see dots of flower buds starting to peek through his knuckles, along his palm and wrists. A thorned, leafy vine snaked down his arm like tefillin, and through there was nothing religious about the act of creation that had made Bruno anew, Abbacchio couldn’t help the reflexive, stupid association, preying on imagery and the way that Abbacchio’s devotion and revolution had twisted together all around the shape of what made Bruno Bruno.

“…Leone?”

Abbacchio jerked to attention, biting his tongue hard as he signed a perfunctory version of his day’s events, and it was so fucking stupid. Bruno held himself like a dead thing, like an utterly and inescapably inhuman thing, and the flowers and fungus along his shoulders were vibrant and lovely and—

This sucked. Bruno was still devastatingly hot as a fucking plant monster or whatever.

I’m going to bed, he signed, and Bruno tracked the movement of his silhouette as he left without shifting expression or demeanor. It was the one constant that Abbacchio had reliably been able to track through all of Bruno’s states. This coldness.

He collapsed face-first into the mattress and let out a shrill groan of despair.

[wroteasongabouther]

the one when y/n visits harry while he’s making hs2 and magic mushrooms are involved

authors note: this is apart of my ‘grumpy’ series, a bit of info that is in that story does fall into this blurb too so reading it first would be good. but it isn’t necessary. on a side note, i have no personal experience of doing shrooms, but i’ve seen people on them so i sort of wrote from that little bit of info i have. hope you guys like it! :)

authors note part 2: i want to warn you it’s a bit long for a blurb, also if you’re uncomfortable with drug use than majority of this won’t be for you.

grumpy fic page // masterlist // talk to me about it!

—

Making the move from New York to LA was necessary. Not only with your career lifting up, gathering another client to manager, but also with your boyfriend now spending most of his time here o record his second solo album. Also California was home. As much as you enjoyed the city life of New York, you knew nothing would ever be like home was.

“I’ll see you tomorrow mom,” you say aloud, your call connected through the Bluetooth of your car. She had given you her typical weekly call as you were driving down to Malibu.

“Alright sweetie,” she says. “Please do call before you come over, and you’re sure Harry will like Ribollita?” She mentions, again, of the traditional Italian meal she was planning to make.

“He’ll eat and enjoy anything you put in front of him, mom,” you say. “I’m at the security booth, so I need to go now,” you explain as the security guard on duty of the studio here in Malibu that Harry had been holed up in for a couple days now.

“Alright sweetie, love you,” your mother says.

“Love you too, bye!”

The call ends just as you ease your car to a stop at the security booth, hitting the button to your left just once for your window to automatically roll down. The security guard pulls out a clipboard and gives you a short smile.

“ID please,”

“Right,” you sigh, putting your car in park quickly in order to reach over the console to grab ahold of your purse that was at the floor of the passenger seat. Searching through it, you finally find your wallet near the bottom and slide out your ID. “Here you go,” you say with a smile as you hand it over.

The guard looks it over, checking if your facial features match, before scribbling something on the clipboard and handing back the ID card. He then hands over a parking pass for you before pressing a button and then gates open for you.

It doesn’t surprise you that Harry’s recording in a beach house that half had been turned into a studio that’s highly secure. Seeing as Jeff’s father owned a few places in this community it made sense that Harry had taken over one of the homes for himself and his team. The homes themselves were stunning. A dream home of yours, of course, so you were fully enjoying stopping by whenever you had the chance and getting to experience being in one of the most gorgeous houses you’d ever step inside.

It was two levels, a full garage attached too, with a large wrap around porch to complete it. It was a grey colour with white trim along the windows and the porch was white too. With perfect landscaping around it too. The ocean was a bit away but it still made a beautiful view, so there was a backyard too with many bushes and trees lining the property for privacy matters.

After parking your car, you walk up the small path to the front doors and walk inside the house. It smells like there’s a few candles burning close by, filling the air with the lovely aroma. You’re kicking off your flip flops just as you hear the familiar jingle of one of Harry’s producers dogs. The gorgeous French Bulldog comes straight to you, breathing heavy as you bend down and give him all your love and attention. 

“Oh, Mr Judy I missed you too,” you coo at the dog, cupping his face for only a second before he’s licking at your hands. Your heart bursts at his licks, oh how you wanted a dog of your own. Too bad life was just too busy. 

You pick Judy up in your arms and begin your walk down the hallway to what would be a guest bedroom with an ensuite and full walk in closet but it was renovated into a studio. The walk in closet was now the recording booth, and there was no bed in the bedroom. Just a loveseat, a couple chairs, and many different switch boards and other confusing recording gear you had no idea about. You’re muttering silly questions that you know Judy can’t answer about his day and how he’s feeling as you walk into the room. 

It’s dimly light, curtains hiding away any daylight that could seep into the room. A few candles are in fact burning on the coffee table that’s set between the love seat and the recording gear. The usual three faces you’ve grown to know over the past month or so are all seated around the room as you walk in, smiling at each of them. While the whereabouts of your boyfriend is quickly answered as you hear his voice over the speakers set up within the room. You put Judy down and turn to look through the window that was installed to look into the recording booth. Harry’s head is hung back as he belts out another mesmerizing note into the microphone.

“He sounds great,” you sigh as Harry finishes singing whatever backing vocals he was doing and he’s then scribbling something down in that same worn out brown leather journal you knew he held close to him every single day. 

“Yeah, he’s really been on a roll today,” Tyler, one of the two producers/mixers/who plays every single interment known to man for Harry’s songs - and Judy’s owner - states before hitting a few buttons on the switch boards in front of him.

“We’ve written almost two full songs, and it’s not even the evening yet,” Kid states from where he’s sitting on the loveseat. 

“Damn,” you breathe out and rest your hands on your hips just as Harry’s eyes flicker up and find you standing in the room. 

He lifts, what you assume is a glass of red wine, to his lips for a long sip before he sets it on the small table in the recording booth and takes off the headphones he had on. He steps out of the booth and has his arms around you in an instant. You are grinning as he’s squeezing your body tight, as though he’s trying to melt the two of you together. 

“Hey,” you chuckle, brushing a hand through his mess of hair quickly before the embrace is over. 

“Hey, thought you’d be here earlier,” Harry pouts. 

“I just had to do a few things for Meghan’s bachelorette party tomorrow night,” you shrug. Your second client that you started to manage just this past year, Meghan Trainor, was getting married in a month so it’s been more personal things you’ve been helping her with than business. Not that you were complaining, you loved weddings. 

“Her big days coming up soon,” Harry hums before you two are sitting together on the loveseat with Kid. You opt for sitting on the arm of the couch, not wanting to squish with Harry and Kid already sitting on the smaller area. 

“Yup,” you nod. 

All of you continue to make talk of how things have been. Seems Harry’s a bit of a lyrical genius in the moment, scribbling down in his journal as everyone is talking. He’s sipping his red wine, smiling, and honestly in one of the best moods you’ve seen him in in a while. You reach over and touch his arm, catching his attention away from whatever he was looking at on his phone. 

“Did you guys want me to make those pizzas now?” You ask, referring to the plan you had of making homemade pizzas since Kid had gone grocery shopping to buy what you needed. 

“Yeah, we could eat now,” Harry nods. 

You give him a smile before standing up and telling the others that you were going to get started on making dinner. Judy gets up from where he was laying by Tyler and follows you out to the kitchen. You can her the light sound of whatever song they’re working on as you are making the pizzas, moving your head along to the beat and swaying your hips too. 

It’s when the pizzas are just about ready to get out of the oven that Harry joins you in the kitchen. He’s by your side in an instant, snaking his arms around your waist as you’re typing a response to another email. Harry rests his chin on your shoulder, waiting patiently for you to quit typing and pay him attention - shockingly. 

“Pizza is just about done,” you say. 

“It smells good,” he states, but then he’s rubbing his face into the nook of your neck and brushing your hair back and forth. “You smell good too,” he adds, mumbling close to your ear. 

“Do I?” You taunt, giggling as he tickles you slightly.

“Mhmm,” Harry hums, “like strawberries,” 

“It’s my new shampoo,” 

“Well, I quite like it,” 

You’re turning in his arms then, bringing yours to rest at his shoulders as he’s leaning down and pressing his lips against yours. It feels like years since you’ve last shared a long passionate kiss, in reality it’s only been about a day now but you’ve missed his touch and affection. But you supposed his focus needed to be on making this new album. 

“Missed you,” Harry mumbles as he plants a kiss to your neck. 

“I missed you too,” you sigh. 

“Will you stay over here tonight?” Harry asks, looking in your eyes now. You can see the lustful spark in his gaze. The thought of having sex causes your core to ache, sending a shiver down your spine too. But sleeping over wasn’t your original plan, you had lots of things to do tomorrow and you were hoping to get a good nights sleep tonight.

“I don’t know,” you sigh. Harry pouts. “I’m just really busy right now with work, I should get home tonight,” you explanation doesn’t change his facial expression at all. Seems your wine drunk boyfriend was feeling extra needy today.

Just as you’re about to kiss him again, Judy starts barking. You turn out of Harry’s grasp and look to see what he’s barking at. Harry grunts and groans, obviously grumpy that Judy stole your attention away from him. Looking to see Judy was simply barking at the sight of people on the beach, you reach down to pet Judy before turning back to where Harry stood in the kitchen. The scowl on his face makes you laugh. 

“Oh how I love that dashing scowl,” you joke. 

“I’m sure you do,” Harry says deadpan. 

You roll your eyes and give him a quick peck before reaching for the oven mitts sitting on the counter beside him and opening the oven to take out the pizzas. Harry mutters that he’ll go get the others for food before he’s walking out of the room, leaving you to cut the pizzas and get the plates ready for everyone to eat.

—

It’s not till after dinner that Harry and the guys bring up what they had planned for the evening. And it wasn’t something you would have guessed in a million years. 

“Magic mushrooms?” You question, eyebrows raised up. 

“Yeah, get the creative juices flowing maybe,” Harry shrugs, finishing off his glass of wine - the bottle was nearly finished now. 

“Or just have a good trip,” Tyler nods with a smile. You chuckle and shake your head. 

You’ve maybe smoked a bit of weed before, obviously have drank liquor before, but anything else was completely and utterly new for you. And not something you really had planned to give a try either. Harry nudges you with his elbow, knocking you out of your thoughts. You look at him and he smile. His grumpy mood didn’t last too long after you guys all ate. In fact, right now talking about doing these magic mushrooms he looks pretty happy.

“Let’s do it,” he says, “I’ve never tried them before either, it’ll be an experience together,” he exclaims. 

You sigh and lean back into the couch. Tyler has the bag of them in his hand, mentioning that he was going to make it into a tea before. You keep your eyes on the bag though as you think of your option here. It would be quite the experience to have. Doing psychedelics isn’t nearly as extreme as the other drugs in the world. And you were going to do them in a very control environment with people you trusted. You look back at Harry and let out another sigh.  

“Okay,” you say, “I’m in,” 

Harry grins, leaning over to kiss you as Tyler is walking out of the room to get this magic mushroom tea ready for you all to do. It was only you, Harry, Tyler and Kid now - the other producer having left after dinner. Harry’s hand on your thigh breaks you away from your thoughts again. 

“Are you excited?” He asks. 

You shrug a shoulder, “I don’t know, kinda I guess, just never like thought I’d do shrooms,” you explain. 

“I think it’ll be fun though,” he nods, giving your thigh a squeeze. 

“All I’m saying is if I have a bad trip, you’re one hundred percent in charge of helping me,” you say, pointing a finger at him. Harry chuckles and takes the hand you’re pointing at him in his hand, bringing you closer to him as he tugs you into his side. 

“I’ve got you, love, don’t you worry,” he says. 

You only respond with an eye roll, but Harry’s quick to return it. He has his arm around you and is pulling you into his side in a fact movement, causing you to giggle. He places a sweet kiss to your forehead as you snuggle into his body, His arm stays around your body, while his other pulls out his cell phone from his pocket. The two of you scroll through his Instagram together, you’d reach up a finger to double tap a few posts for him. 

And then, within what feels like no time at all, Tyler is coming back into the room with what going to be your first time doing some real drugs. You sigh while hiding your head into Harry’s side. He chuckles as you mutter something about how your father must be looking down on you, feeling oh so proud. 

“Okay,” you say while sitting up. Harry’s already got your cup in his hand, ready to hand it to you. “Let’s freaking do this,” you say dramatically and take the cup of magic mushroom tea.

“Just drink it normally,” Tyler instructs just as he has taken a sip of his own cup. “It’ll take a few moments to kick in, and then we’ll be having a good time,” he says with a smile. 

“Cool,” you mutter. 

“Cool,” Harry mocks you, smiling over the rim of his cup before taking a sip of his tea. 

You stick out your tongue at him before having the first sip of your own tea. It taste normal, just like a more earthy tea with a spoon of sugar in it maybe. You sit back and have another sip as Kid starts talking about a song they must’ve been recording earlier. As you sit back and relax into the couch, sipping your tea, you realize that you’ve nearly drank half maybe a little too quickly. Making an ‘oops’ face, you set down the tea on the coffee table just as Harry gets up to check out whatever on the switch board that Kid and Tyler had to show him.

You’re laying on the couch looking up at the ceiling in no time once you realize you have the couch to yourself. Harry’s in the booth, his voice seeming low and slow as you shut your eyes and listen to him record a few lines over and over again. When you open your eyes, you focus on your cup of tea and decide to lean up and finish it - if you were doing this, you were doing it all. 

After the cup is empty, you sit up a bit and zone out on a poster hung up on the wall across from you. It’s a Led Zepplin poster, vintage obviously, as it’s from when they performed sometime here in LA. Oh how you’d love to have lived back then, you think with a sigh. 

“Y/N,” Harry calls out your name, bringing your attention away from the poster.

“Huh?”

Harry chuckles, giving you a heart melting grin, “I’ve tried getting your attention for like five minutes now,” he states. 

“Oh,” 

“Been staring at that poster for a while,” Tyler adds, “feeling it?” He smirks, seeming to finish off his own cup of tea now before setting the empty cup by yours. There’s the other two empty on the table suddenly too. Suppose everyone finished their tea while you were zoned out. 

"Yeah, I feel good,” you say with a smile.

“We think this song’s about done,” Harry states, taking a seat beside you on the couch. “I wanted you to listen to it,” he adds. He gives you a small smile now, but it’s still as heart melting as his grin. 

“I’d love to,” you nod. Tyler turns around and hits a button on the board, one of the millions, and then the song is playing.

What do you mean, 

I’m sorry by the way

Never coming back down

Harry’s voice fills the room, causing your stomach to fill with butterflies. You felt so proud of him. Just as you did when you first heard his songs for his first album. You recognize the backing vocals from what he must’ve been recording when you first arrived. It’s amazing, you think, feeling like the shrooms are only enhancing how much you love this song.

“It’s so good,” you sigh, leaning into Harry as the song ends. You close your eyes as his hand falls onto your thigh. “Play it again,” you say. Harry chuckles, then the song starts over again as per your request. Harry is tapping your thigh to the beat, sending a shiver down your spine. 

“I see,” you stop talking as you realize it’s simply word vomit from the shrooms in your system. Harry turns to you and smiles.

“What do you see, babe?” He questions.

“It’s nothing,” you shake your head.

“No, I value your thoughts. You know what your talking about,” he assures you.

“Okay,” you sigh and close your eyes as Harry’s song keeps playing softly. “I see you surrounded by people. Sort of pulling and pushing at you, but not roughly, almost like they’re being lured to you and your aura or something. And you’re just letting them touch you and singing to the camera, maybe stumbling a bit at the contact. And,” you pause, opening your eyes and zoning out on the magazine on the coffee table. “And you’re shirtless,” you say.

“Sounds like one hell of a time,” Kid snorts, you look up to catch him smirking while clicking away at his laptop. The song starts over again.

“I like it,” Harry nods.

“Me too,” you agree.

“Well duh,” Harry teases, pushing your knee gently with his hand. You sway back and forth, it feels like you’re moving a lot slower than you must be. “You thought it up, genesis.” Harry states.

“Oh,” you giggle, “right.”

“You’re so fucked,” Harry says.

“Maybe,” you giggle again. You don’t think you’ve giggled this much in your whole life. Lifting your eyes from the switch board across the room, you look at Harry now. He’s staring right back at you. He didn’t seem as fucked up.

“M’pretty fucked up too,” he admits. It’s almost like he’s read your mind as you thought of wether or not he was as fucked up as you. “No, not as bad as you, babe,” Harry chuckles.

“Oh, I’m not just thinking this am I?” You question, realizing you were speaking your thoughts aloud.

“No,” Harry smiles.

You shrug and look over his shoulder as the little bit of daylight coming through the window behind him. The suns probably going to go down in a couple hours. You sigh and lean forward, elbows resting on your knees as you think of standing. Why did it seem like such a hard task to do though?

“Let me help you, love,” Harry mutters as he stands up first. He grabs your hands and lifts you up without warning, causing you to nearly fall right into him.

“Let’s go outside, lay out back maybe?”

“On the porch? Sure,” Harry shrugs, then turns to his team. “You guys want to come?” He asks.

The group says some sort of yes answer and then you’re leading the way. Thankfully Judy gets the memo and gets up from his bed as quickly as he can, following you out the back door and his paws make way down the few steps to the grass. You smile and skip down the steps, grabbing one of the many toys around to play with him. Not even five minutes pass before you’re giving up on fetch and sitting down on the grass, then kicking your legs out and laying on your back.

The clouds seem to be moving faster then life itself. Forming funny shapes to make you giggle to yourself. Judy nudges you’re arm a few times, to which you respond by petting him. He’s so soft.

“He just got a bath today,” Harry states as he comes up beside you. You look to him. The purple and pink skies behind him make him look even prettier than ever. “You’re the pretty one, babe,” he says with a smile.

“Can’t seem to keep my thoughts to myself,” you hum while shutting your eyes for a moment.

Harry chuckles. He’s bending down, deciding to lay down with you.

“It’s like that voice in my head is completely gone,” you say.

“That voice in your head used to hate me,” Harry states. You furrow your brows dramatically and snap your head to look at him. Harry’s green eyes are already on you. “What,” he snorts and looks back up at the fading purples of the sky, “you used to hate me. Used to yell at me all the time. I’m sure that voice inside your head would curse me out more than you ever said aloud,” he explains. You think maybe Harry has lost that voice in his head too now, maybe the shrooms are effecting him the same way. 

“I was constantly fighting my voice in my head through all those years before,” you sigh and find your gaze back on the sky too. “It was always finding the best in your grumpy moods and bad decisions ever since I first met you. And I would have constant battles with myself, usually talking to myself when I was alone even, fighting about how I could not let myself fall for you.”

“You talked to yourself when you were alone?” Harry questions, letting out a chuckle, “fucking weirdo,” he adds. You throw your arm over and smack him in the chest. He chuckles some more as he lets out a small groan. 

He’s leaning over you in more fast movements that you can’t even focus on how he moved so quickly. It was for sure the drugs effecting you. But you know that it’s not the drugs when you feel those butterflies in you stomach reacting to how close Harry’s face is to yours. You give him a smile and pucker your lips, asking for a kiss. 

“Needy,” Harry mutters. You roll your eyes but it’s cut short as Harry gives you what you want. His lips feel a hundred times softer than ever before. You could melt right there on the grass from how his kiss made you feel - maybe the drugs were effecting how Harry made your body feel.

“Do you even have anything to say on how I said I used to fight my feelings in my head?” You ask, not even realizing how you’re whining at your boyfriend. Harry folds his hands on your stomach and rests his chin on them.

“I think it’s hard to believe we didn’t end up like this earlier than just last year,” he states. 

“Really?” You snort. “We did not get along, but you are you and I can’t deny that some times I was just trying to find the good in your grumpy self.”

“And I always found you attractive,” Harry states nonchalantly. “Especially when you were yelling at me,” he adds with a quick nod. 

“So all the time then?” You joke. 

“Pretty much,” Harry says, the corners of his lips turning up into a smirk.

“Cute,” you hum. 

Harry rolls his eyes at you before he’s leaning forward to kiss you once more. You sigh into the kiss and let the effects of the magic mushrooms make you feel like you’re melting into him again. Harry and you share the passionate kiss under the sunset for a while till you two decide that you need to breathe again. 

“You should go make more beautiful music,” you say. 

Harry sighs and sits up, “becomes a big hot shot manager in the industry and now you think you can boss me around, hey?” 

“Baby, I’ve always been bossing you around,” you state, propping yourself up on your elbows as Harry begins to stand up now. Judy gets excited at his actions, letting out a few barks too. “And you love it,” you add while petting Judy. 

“Only cause I love you,” Harry says, offering a hand to help you up. You take it and it feels like you’re flying into the air as he lifts you up to your feet. Letting out a little gasp, you grab onto his arm tight and let your body settle once standing fully.

“Well,” you smile at Harry. “I love you too, I guess,” you say. 

“Mhmm,” Harry hums. You roll your eyes at him before leaning to crash your lips to his yet again. You cut it short though, causing Harry to furrow his brows at you and pout. 

“Go make music,” you say and give him a little push. Harry rolls his eyes at you now, a scowl finding his face before he’s walking up to the back porch with his feet dragging behind him. “Grumpy,” you mutter, but there’s no stopping the smile that’s on your face - and there’s no blaming the magic mushrooms on the overwhelming love you felt for Harry.

[illfoandillfie]

Hi love! So excited about the readings! Could I get the Year Ahead?

here you go lovely! and happy new year!

Let’s just jump right in here. 

January: 9 of Cups

Brilliant way to start the year. The 9 of cups is all about satisfaction and success. The man on the card doesn’t have to look at his cups to know that each of them is full. January is going to bring positivity in many areas of your life and it may be that things you’ve been hoping will happen will actually come to pass.

February: 9 of Wands

Another 9. In tarot the nines represent the step before completion. It’s about awareness - you’re realising what you already have, becoming aware of what is around you. But, not every realisation is a good one. Becoming aware means becoming aware of the more negative things as well as the positive and the 9 of wands is waking you up to challenges you face. You’re close to success but the road hasn’t necessarily been easy. The 9 of wands signifies resilience and grit, taking a stand. February will bring success with it, or at least put you close to achieving something, but it may take a toll in some way, be it physically, mentally or spiritually. 

March: The Devil

Bone down. If you’re looking for a physical relationship or looking to spice up an existing one, March may be a good time for that. The Devil represents vice in all forms but is often specifically linked to sex. 

Seriously though, at it’s highest vibration, the Devil signified self-knowledge and self-mastery - learning a lesson and applying it to your own life. But at it’s lowest vibration is can symbolise oppression and addiction. The two people on the card are collard and appear to be chained but their bonds are loose enough that they could break free if they wish. They choose to remain there, they choose to stay attached to their vices. I believe this could be a warning. Following on from the 9 of wands in Feb, it may be that March is a bit of a stressful month and in such situations it is easy to fall into patterns of addiction. Everyone has a vice or two - smoking, drinking, expensive clothing, power, etc - but sometimes the line between habit or escape from overwhelming situations can be blurred and slip into addiction. If in March you find yourself picking up a new “bad” habit, be careful. It could also related to a addiction someone around you is dealing with.

April: Ace of Wands

Something new is going to begin in April. The wands suit is representative of passion and creativity. It may be that a new physical relationship (or a new aspect to an existing one) begins this month, or perhaps a new creative endeavour. 

May: 7 of Cups

The 7 of cups is about imagination, choice, wishful thinking, and fantasies. It may be that during May you’ll be faced with several options to choose from, perhaps related to that new thing begun in April. It’s important to evaluate all your options so you can make the best choice. Not all the cups on the card contain positive things and you don’t want to pick up a snake when you meant to grab the treasure. This card may also be a sign that you need to start putting your dreams into actions. Coming up with ideas is easy but while it can be exciting to start making them a reality, it can also be frightening. But this card indicates that May will be a good month to work on making something real, making something happen for you. 

June: Queen of Cups

The Queen of Cups is seen as a compassionate and kind woman. She connects with people at an emotional level and is honest and fair. She’s also not one to become overwhelmed by her emotions of those of others, though she thinks with her heart more than her mind. June may be an emotionally heightened month and you may be called to be compassionate and caring to others, or someone specific. She may also represent someone you will be able to turn to for help - the Queens are often seen a signs of older women who are part of your life but it isn’t always the case. The Queen of Cups is also highly intuitive so remember to trust your instincts and spend some time looking after your own emotional wellbeing.

July: Page of Wands

The Page of Wands represents excitement, adventure, energy, fearlessness and fresh ideas. He is passionate and has so many ideas of how to succeed at his tasks or goals, but often his inexperience and perhaps a fear of the unknown keeps him from actually doing anything. Sometimes he just has too many ideas and gets distracted too often. July may bring conflicting messages about how you are progressing with a goal or project. It may be a time when the voice that discourages you is particularly loud. But it will also be a time when something will trigger a desire to take the leap, to explore something new, to make an advancement in your life. Summon your courage and harness that desire.

August: The Magician

This card is the representation of pure willpower. During August you will have the chance to tap into your potential. Whatever doubts crept in during July are no longer worrying you. You know what you want and you know what you have to do to get there, all that remains is to do it. August will be a good month to put your plan into action. The Magician represents skill, resourcefulness and manifestation so there is no doubt that you are capable of achieving what you want. 

September: 5 of Wands

Here we get a little bit of conflict. Now, the 5 of Wands speaks of rivalry, competition, arguments and aggression, however it may not be the bad kind of conflict. The imagery on the card can be interpreted as either a group of men fighting or a group of men play fighting/enjoying the competition. So, September is likely to be a time when conflicts arise but they could take many forms. It might be a rivalry at work (say two of you are up for the same promotion or you’re applying for a job against other candidates), or it could be an argument resulting from a miscommunication or misunderstanding. Whatever it is, there’s a chance it won’t be as serious as it first appears. 

October: Judgement

The Judgement card represents awakening, renewal and reflection. It indicates that October will a be a good month to reflect on yourself and the progress you’ve made through the year and evaluate what is left to do or what you’d like to achieve by the end of the year. Use these reflections to make any changes you need, no matter how small, so you can finish the year in the right frame of mind.

November: 8 of Wands

November is likely to be a month of quick decisions and fast turnarounds. The 8 of wands symbolises movement, speed, progress, and sudden changes. If during the year it has felt like you’ve not made much progress, don’t worry. The momentum has been building and this is the time when things will begin to fall into place and the progress will become clear. 

December: The Hierophant

And finally, December. The Hierophant is about tradition, conformity and convention but it’s also about seeking knowledge, learning, and being strong in your beliefs. If you celebrate Christmas this card may just be indicating that it’s a time of tradition and faith. It may also be indicating that December will be a good time for you to learn something new or that you’ll have success in a teamwork scenario. In regards to the progress you made in November, the Hierophant indicates that now is the time to stick to traditional or conventional methods of continuing that success rather than making outlandish adjustments that aren’t guaranteed to work. 

Your oracle cards are:

From the Destiny Cards you have the word Discipline. This is definitely reflected in the Page of Wands the The Magician and even in The Hierophant. Don’t be discouraged if things don’t seem to be progressing how you’d hoped. Stick to your guns and you’ll get where you want to go. 

From the Elemental Oracles we have Magnetism: Attraction. This is card number 37, so that number may be of importance to you. Know your values and needs so you can be aware of what your true attractions are. Take notice of what or who you attract and if it was your intention or an accident. Just like with magnets, there will always be an opposite energy to any endeavour you might take, it is natural law, so do not let it bother you. 

From the  Believe In Your Own Magic deck we have Homeward - Take yourself out on a date. This is card number 42 so, again, if you’re into numerology that may have extra meaning. But this card is reminding you to look after yourself. Treat yourself to something nice every now and again, take yourself out on a date, give yourself an evening to soak in a bubble bath or listen to your favourite album all the way through or whatever else you might do to look after your own emotional and mental wellbeing. 

And then there is your sigil for the year from the Making Magic deck. The Triple Moon. Embracing all aspects of yourself - the divine and the earthly. This symbol is also known as the Triple Goddess symbol as each of the moons represents a different aspect of divine feminine power - the maiden, the mother and the crone. It’s a popular symbol is Wicca and you’ll find it on numerous items used in witchcraft.

Last but not least we have some charms. 

In Jan we have the dice with the drama masks which are symbols from Ancient Greece for comedy and tragedy. It might indicate that this will be a time of heightened emotions. 

On Feb we have the word Freedom as well as the number 4 and the mushroom. Freedom may indicate that you’ll be free of something this month. That may be thing that the 9 of wands card is referring too. The number 4 may be of particular significance this month or may be a lucky number of sorts. The mushroom could be a warning of potential danger. A lot of mushrooms are poisonous so seeing this charm it may indicate  that something you’re considering is dangerous or that you’re approaching something in the wrong way. 

Over Mar we have the lightbulb. The coil inside the bulb spells the word love so it may be that the Devil really is referring to sex (though of course you don’t have to have one to have the other). It could also just be indicating that this will be a period of bright ideas for you. 

Over Apr we have the badge with the camera. This could represent your ability to decide how a moment or time in your life will be remembered. Your perspective of a situation will change how you remember that time when you look back months or years later. It may also indicate a need to slow down and appreciate the things around you or to document something in photographic or video form. 

Over May we have the cotton spool. This could indicate a desire for things to be neat and orderly this month. The spool could also indicate a complication popping up, perhaps related to the choice indicated in the 7 of cups. 

Over Jun we have the word Treasure. This could mean that during this month you’ll form a connection that you come to treasure or find an object you consider treasure. It may also be related to the treasure that appears on the 7 of cups card, perhaps indicating that you make the right choice or that during June you’ll make a start on turning your dreams to reality. 

Next we have the hello kitty charm which lies between jul and aug. To me this is a sign of childhood, nostalgia. Perhaps you’ll interact with a child/children during this part of the year or perhaps it’ll just be a time when you revisit some old favourites. 

The over Aug we have the question mark which indicates some confusion, and the “hello” badge which is a sign of an incoming message. It may be related to an old friend wanting to reconnect or someone delivering good news. The scissors also appear here. They represent cutting something unwanted out of your life. 

Then over Sep we have the words “to” and “true”. It may be that a truth reveals itself this month which could lead to the conflict indicated in the card. 

Between Sep and Oct we have the book. This charm represents knowledge and learning. Perhaps you’ll seek out information about a particular situation or, if you’re studying, now may be a particularly fruitful time.

Over Oct we have the Dolphin, a symbol of fun and frivolity as well as social situations. This is doubled with the Fun Token from an arcade. It may be that a fun social situation will happen this month - a party or other event. Or it could be that you’ll be able to find a lot of enjoyment in this month as part of your reflections or self care. 

In Nov we have a dice with a sleeping symbol (a face, eyes closed, with Zs floating up from him). With the 8 of Wands it’s likely that this month will leave you tired or exhausted. 

And finally the word Think. This charm fell sort of between Nov and Dec so you may find that as the busy Nov comes to an end you’ll have more time to think and consider what’s happening. 

[konohagakurekakashi]

Rinne-Whoops: Who Died and Brought You Back Out?

Don’t  even ask--Post continued from here

@minaa-munch

@senjutsunade

“Inōichi-senpai?” Izumo murmured as all four shinobi continued to stare at the Kage in contemplation, afore Kakashi nodded (in answer to both Izumo and his yellow-haired, former Sensei) the arm, rubbing at the nape of his neck venturing further upward to tug his forehead protector back into place over his left eyelid. “Hai, he will be the most qualified to help with, Yondaime-sama’s muddled memories.” The Iryō-nin whom had her palms clasped in front of her chest agreed with him in a low hum, dark hues shifting from the slumped Fire Shadow towards the Jōnin. Kotetsu seemed less convinced however, sharing a brief glance with his partner, before his digits came to rest on the juts of his hips. “Demo…would it be wise…to let someone from the Intelligence and Interrogation unit know…won’t they…catechize him, Kakashi-senpai? I get that we can’t exactly keep this type of thing a secret, but maybe just until Tsunade-sama wakes up? I mean…He already seems to be in pain…” The Chūnin trailed off lamely, his own orbs flittering over the shambolic cavern, the edge of his sandal toeing at a scroll fragment.

“…That is exactly why we need to enlist Inōichi-san’s help.”  Kotetsu blinked, looking up to find the Hatake had yet to sever his gaze with the cerulean-eyed Shinobi. “It is as you said, we can’t keep this type of thing secret for long, but we can govern who gets to know of this /first/. Inōichi-san is a loyal shinobi, an avid believer in the Third’s Will of Fire…but he was also a good friend of the Yondaime. I don’t believe catechizing an old comrade would be something Inōichi would do right off the bat.” It was then that the Hatake shifted, a begloved palm landing heavily on the Chūnin’s shoulder. “…If he sorts through Lord Fourth’s memories and ends up putting them back into the right order, I doubt an official interrogation will be necessary. You both did good bringing me here, demo, you can leave now…” His single, visible hue curved in what he hoped to be a show of ‘encouragement’, before he let the other go, deft fingers coiling into the familiar signs of the Tiger Seal. “M-Matte, Kakashi-senpai! What do you mean? You can’t expect us to just do nothing.” Kakashi in turn cocked his head to the side as if ruminating over the other man’s words, mouth twitching underneath the fabric of his mask, though not enough to be considered as a smile.

“Iie…I never suggested that…Domo, a lot of time has passed. The two of you should return to Shizune, though stop by the Ikayaki tent on your way; maybe consider a side-order of fried rice, brown. When Shizune asks for Tsunade-sama’s files just confirm that you met me half-way and that I offered to get it in your place, as I was already on my way to the outer-rim. My chakra imprint is all over this cavern, but yours aren’t. Plus I’d be willing to wager my signed copies of Jiraiya-sama’s special anniversary addition of Icha Icha Paradise that neither Shizune nor Sakura have left Tsunade-sama’s side to eat something decent since she’s collapsed. Nothing quells ire or an array of unwelcomed questions quite like a nice, warm meal…ne?”

Kakashi’s leaden gaze flittered towards the Kunōichi. “As for Hakui-san…It’s best that you return to the medical tent before you’re missed. With skills like yours and with construction accidents on the rise, I’m certain that your chakra will be needed to do a lot more good.” Kakashi then proceeded to mould his own chakra, the mauve energies, bubbling and pitching, before divvying into half—an exact clone appearing at his side amidst a puff of smoke. “It’s a hassle…but my Raitōn Clone will look for the Godaime’s papers while I’ll make sure Minato-sensei gets to the Yamanaka Compound…luckily it’s not far from here…That’s the plan for now at least. I don’t need to stress that neither one of you were here. At all. Yes?”

The Chūnin chorused their accord, before slowly meandering their way toward the corridor, unable to find fault with the Jōnin’s nippy reasoning. Only Izumo hesitated for a beat longer, his visible hue skimming over the mess of wood-chips and paper. “Not gonna lie, Senpai, I feel bad about leaving you to deal with the dirty work, even just your clone…” Kakashi gave an evasive wave of his palm, sucking in a long, impassive breath. “..It’s fine…It’s fine…Though I could use your bandana…bandana yes…give it here, Izumo.” Izumo’s dark orb blinked, digits rising to fumble with the navy material, but found nothing but a mess of chocolaty strands as the Jōnin already nicked the accessory from off his head, shoving the man towards the corridor at the same time. “Arigato, Izumo-kun, your sacrifice was a very noble one, best not keep Shizune waiting any longer. Bye-bye.”

Turing on his heel Kakashi inclined his covered chin at his clone to get him to work, before his gaze settled on the form of the Kage once more. For the first time the two of them found themselves alone, Kakashi’s gaze assuaging at the soft echoes of ‘please’ and the sheer helplessness cleaving to the Kage’s form like a second shroud. Not wanting the man to suffer from the onslaught of his own thoughts and memories any longer, the Hatake moved to crouch in front of the rock lip. “I’m not ‘gonna put you under, Minato-sensei…but I am going get you some help….Just…” The Jōnin paused to peer at the pallid, pained features of the Yellow Flash, before he leaned forward to hide the distinguishing, yellow spikes with the Chūnin’s pilfered bandana, careful not to rub against the red, inflamed scrapes and nail indents visible along the sides of his temple. “….Trust me?” The Jōnin then lifted the Kage’s arm, wounding it about his neck, while his own limb curled about the man’s middle, heaving him upward and out of his sarcophagi.

Moving the former Leader was far from an easy task, the man practically a dead-weight, slanted into Kakashi’s side and still wrecked with uneven breaths and the occasional cough. But Kakashi expected as much as he maneuverer the both of them through the chamber towards the passageway the others disappeared through prior. The plus side was that they met no resistance along the snaking, narrow warren; nor did the Jōnin feel the flecks of any prying chakra signatures. Years of experience advised that in itself wasn’t enough of an indicator that they weren’t being watched and/or followed, so Kakashi remained alert, muscles starting to twinge with how tense he held himself—and as the dimness began to lift, the faint tinges of afternoon sunlight signalling the exit up ahead, Kakashi adjusted his hold on his former mentor, before urging forward once more, pace perpetually slow.

“The Exit is up ahead, it seems to be late afternoon still, so you might want to…shield your eyes.”

Kakashi didn’t check to see if Minato complied by fluttering his lids closed, choosing instead to alter his intent stare down the rough iron steps and into the crater where everyone was still bustling along like little, carpenter ants. Any minute now people would start to pack up their tools and wander towards their respective tents, the barracks, their homes; increasing the chances of being spotted by a weary individual or two (not to mention the receptive ANBU Platoons, as Kakashi has it on good authority that Ibiki upped the patrol roster in lieu of the Pain attack) As such Kakashi called on his chakra reserves (those violet swirls not tasked with keeping his clone within this plain of existence) to haul both of their forms from the Hokage Mountain in a concise body flicker to appear once more at the foot of the steps.

Sure, it might not be the best tactic when supporting a severely /disoriented/ resurrected, but the Hatake reasoned that cleaning chunky spew from his flak-jacket and standard-issue blues, would heavily outweigh the panic and outright bothersome questions he might have to consider answers for /if they were caught/ not to mention the datum of time, time which they did not have. The silver-haired shinobi could not put his finger on it, but there was a nagging feeling at the back of Kakashi’s skull that caused him to constantly shoot a narrowed hue over the swell of his shoulder. A feeling like he failed to take something important into account, that he /missed/ something, though re-examining his chosen actions thus far failed to provide further elucidations. It only urged the Jōnin forwards that much faster and placed a heavy hope on the shoulders of his Raitōn clone. Kakashi hoped that he would be thorough whereas Kakashi was heedless.

They made their way passed the off-turn which lead toward the Hattori Clan Ruins, the towering Hashirama and Ginkō trees passing by in blurs and blotches of green and brown, a tell-tale that they reached the boundary leading into the Nara Clan Forest. If Kakashi wasn’t certain that Shikakū was still in the presence of the old war-mongerer; he might have consider cutting through the deer forest towards its compound neighbour, but as the current Head was still indisposed, the Jōnin thought better of chancing his luck via trespassing. The two shinobi continued to travel along the borderline, Kakashi stopping only twice (once to avoid two Akimichi huddled around a cluster of brightly coloured mushrooms, the second to avoid the kids who were once Kurenai’s Genin team) afore they finally made it to the outskirts of the Yamanaka Clan Compound. The clan dwelling was the most centred of all of the Konohagakure Clans, a fact evident in the vast amounts of dirt and debris littering what used to be fields of wild Lavender and Tiger Lilies, the depository houses the Hatake knew to have contained many herbs and flowers of all shapes and usages, all but destroyed.

As Kami would have it, the main estate seemed to be mostly intact, save for a few missing roof-tiles and the windows on the west side of the house that were replaced by a see-through, green tarp. Kakashi ambled forward, praying that the elder Jōnin was home and in a particularly benevolent mood, while his digits flexed against his mentor’s side. Despite being an active shinobi since the tender age of five (many of said years spent within the sombre underbelly of the ANBU) Kakashi only ever worked with the Head of the Yamanaka clan once or twice where a mind-probe proved an ineffective interrogation method thanks to tricky conscious seals and the Sharingan was required as an alternative. As such Kakashi wasn’t as versed in the Clan Head’s habits and methods as he was in the ways of the man’s two teammates. Yet the Yondaime’s laboured breaths urged him to swallow any uncertainties (those he never dared voice to the three Chūnin) as soon as it dared to flicker into existence.

‘Maa, a shinobi should never second guess his actions, huh.’

The Hatake found himself uttering with some amount of discontentment, while calloused fingers rose to rap twice against the door. It took a moment, but soon Kakashi’s ears picked up the steady thuds of feet and the door opened to reveal a tired Ino still smudged with the sweat and grime of a hard day’s work. Periwinkle orbs widened as they fixed upon Kakashi’s hunched form, before they shifted briskly towards the other shinobi slumped against the Jōnin's side, his chin dipped toward his chest and obscuring any features from the girl’s keen inspection.

“Aa…Ino…Is your Tou-san home? I would really like to speak to him, it’s a bit of an emergency, you see…”