#ugh i should do this more often but taking the cage outside puts so much strain on the wheels

[sachigram]

“With Teeth” Chapter 5

((click here to read on ao3!!))

Izaya is frowning down at his computer, his hands hovering above the keys of his keyboard, not moving. Next to him, Namie is typing away, a bemused little smirk on her face. She's enjoying this, clearly, and she's itching to say something biting.

“You're handling this better than I thought you would,” she says, her tone forcibly bored. Izaya blinks at her, lifting his hand to motion for her to continue. “Your little monster friend has a girlfriend now. He'll have less time for you, right? I assumed you'd be setting fires across the city by now.”

“You know what they say about assuming,” Izaya says breezily. “If anything, she's distracting him enough to leave me be.”

The chatroom is full of people chattering away about Shizuo and Vorona, who are spending a lot of time together, holding hands, exchanging glances, sharing beverages. It's sickening. Izaya feels vaguely nauseous just reading about it, but he thinks that's probably due to his insane schedule at the moment, and his lack of sleep. He keeps meaning to take a healing potion, but he forgets every time.

“Distracting. Right.” Namie types another response, fanning the flames of all the rumors circulating about Ikebukuro's hottest couple. Her smirk drops, and Izaya can't resist the temptation to dip into her mind, just a little, to see why she isn't enjoying this as much as she thought she would.

She's thinking of Seiji, of course, but also of Mika, and of Celty's head, and all the times she's been overlooked in favor of someone else. She thinks Shizuo dating Vorona is distasteful, because she's set on the idea that Shizuo must be fucking Izaya, and that's why he comes by so often. Izaya withholds a snort at that, and he graciously doesn't comment on the fact that Namie could probably have anyone she wanted, if she wasn't so obsessed with her own brother.

“Who cares, anyway?” Namie asks, closing her laptop. “The two of them together probably have conversations as interesting as watching paint dry. It's not worth even talking about anymore.”

“I couldn't agree more,” Izaya says, pushing away from his desk. He tilts his head at her. “Let's order out for dinner. My treat.”

“In that case, I'm craving something expensive.”

“Of course you are.”

***

Izaya is watching the sunset from a small window when he realizes he must have fallen asleep. He isn't at home anymore, and this is beginning to feel like the kind of dream he's been dreading to have lately, one where he knows Shizuo will show up at some point.

“Who are you?” A child's voice asks from behind him. Izaya turns, looking down at Shizuo, who is in a hospital bed, his arms wrapped, a brace around his neck. He's frowning up at Izaya, who sighs loudly before plopping into the vacant chair next to the bed.

“Oh, why does it even matter? You won't call me by my name anyway.” Izaya pulls his knees up to his chest and studies Shizuo closely. “You're here alone?”

“My family just left.” Shizuo looks up at the ceiling, seeming to decide that Izaya isn't a threat to him. “They used to stay with me a lot, but this happens all the time now, so they can't stick around as much.”

“I see.”

“I'll only be here one night anyway.”

“So who was it this time? Was it another fight?” Izaya asks.

“It's not like I wanted to fight.” Shizuo's eyebrow twitches. “I threw a swingset.”

“A swingset?”

“Yeah, but apparently it was bolted into the ground or something. Really fucked me up.”

Izaya can't help it. He laughs hard, curling into himself as he does so.

“Hey, fuck you, it isn't funny!” Shizuo snaps, but he seems to be trying not to laugh himself. “Well, maybe it was a little. The look on their faces was pretty funny.”

“Did you at least manage to hit them?” Izaya asks, still giggling at the mental image.

“No. Turns out all the time I spent lifting it gave them some time to escape.”

Izaya laughs harder. When was the last time he found something this genuinely funny? Lately all he does is work until he passes out, and he deserves it, he knows. Still, as he feels tears stinging the corner of his eyes, he thinks he feels good now, here with this kid version of Ikebukuro's monster. There doesn't seem to be anything else to do but talk to him, and their dreams keep connecting them no matter what Izaya does. He's tired of fighting it.

Shizuo is gazing at him with poorly concealed awe and wonder.

Pretty.

Izaya snorts at Shizuo's thought. What's so pretty about this scene right now? The sunset outside? The various machines hooked to Shizuo, beeping idly in the background? Shizuo keeps looking at him, and Izaya realizes, feels his face grow hot.

“Who are you?” Shizuo asks again.

“Your worst enemy.”

“Really? You don't seem all that bad.” Shizuo shifts a bit, winces. “You're not scared of me, are you?”

“Not now, not ever.”

Shizuo nods, and his lip wobbles. “People tell me all the time they aren't scared of me, but I know they are, deep down. How could they not be? They'd have to be crazy. But...” Shizuo chokes up, laughs a little. “I can tell you mean it. And if that makes you crazy, I think that's okay, because it feels good to not be feared, for once.”

Izaya lowers his legs, leaning closer to the bed. He idly touches the flimsy fabric of the blanket draped over Shizuo, who is watching him curiously. Izaya looks away.

“Sometimes you're so pathetically simple it makes me want to vomit. Sometimes it feels like a chore, hating you. Did you know that?” Izaya asks softly, and there's a long pause after his words, no sounds aside from their breathing. Even the machines have somehow gone quiet.

“So then why do you?” Shizuo asks at last.

“Isn't it funny that it's been so long of us hating each other that I forgot what caused it in the first place? I think you did, too.” Izaya crosses his arms over the bed, puts his head down. “People like us will always be at each other's throats. It's just the way it is.”

“You sound like a grownup,” Shizuo says, glaring now. “They always say that, when they don't know the answer to something. 'It's just the way it is.' If you don't know, then why does it matter in the first place?”

“Believe it or not, I am a grownup. I'm only a kid right now because you're one, too. We're always the same age in these dreams, even if only one of us remembers the future at a time.” Izaya lifts his head enough to grin at Shizuo, who blushes and immediately turns away. He seems to be trying to gather the courage to say something, but there's suddenly a knock at the door, and Izaya turns towards it. “Expecting someone else?”

“Huh?”

“There's knocking.”

“I don't hear anything.”

Izaya stands. “Oh. This may be in real life. I think I'm waking up.”

“Waking up? Does that mean leaving?” Shizuo's eyes look panicked. “When will you be back?”

“I never know. Why do you keep wanting to see me so badly? You're the one pulling me back here, you have to be.” The room starts to grow fuzzy as the dreamscape begins to fall apart around them.

“You're not scared of me. You laughed at me instead of running— Fuck!” Shizuo seems to be trying to get up to grab Izaya, but he can't with his arms bandaged. “Tell me your name so I can find you again!”

“You'll just call me a flea anyway, won't you? So it doesn't matter.”

***

Izaya opens his eyes to discover he passed out at his desk at some point. He sits up and frowns at the container of pasta next to him. He remembers ordering dinner for himself and Namie, and then...

“Ugh. Of course she just left,” Izaya mutters to himself. Namie is an opportunist if nothing else. She isn't the type to stick around and see what happens next, unlike Izaya. Another knock sounds at the door. “Who is it?” Izaya calls, feeling sluggish. He checks his phone to find he's been asleep for about two hours.

“Me!” Shinra's voice replies, muffled from the door. “Let me in, would you? I've been knocking forever!”

Grumbling, Izaya makes his way across the room, opening it for Shinra, who waltzes inside like he owns the place.

“Hi! I'm working late tonight, and I didn't have time to eat dinner before I left, so I figured while I was in Shinjuku I could come see what you had—“ Shinra stops talking and tilts his head to the side, observing Izaya. “You look awful. What have you been up to?”

“Also working,” Izaya says. He reaches up to wipe crusted drool from the corner of his mouth. “So you came to raid my fridge?”

“Ah, yes!” Shinra turns and continues his march to the kitchen. “I just got done with an emergency call, and next I'll be going to visit another patient. I didn't want fast food, so here I am! Did Yagiri-san make anything?”

“Should be leftovers somewhere around here.” Izaya looks back at his own pasta, feels his stomach rumble. He can't remember the last time he really ate or slept fully.

“Why don't we eat something together?” Shinra asks. “You look ready to fall over.”

Izaya ends up tossing the pasta. It was congealed together, and not very good in the first place. Namie picked the place to order from, but he'll definitely complain enough about it later to where they don't order from there again. Shinra actually goes through the trouble of throwing together some fried rice, because Izaya doesn't have the ingredients for much else. He'll have to send Namie for groceries.

“So what are you working on so religiously, anyway?” Shinra asks as they sit down. “I haven't seen you this absorbed in work for a while.”

“It's not just one assignment, but multiple. All of them are due around the same time.” Izaya eats a bite of rice and shrugs. “It's just poor timing.”

“More than that though, right? I heard Shiki-san was pissed at you for multiple reasons. Sounds like he's keeping you overloaded on purpose.” Shinra smirks at him. “You can never leave well-enough alone, Izaya-kun.”

“'Well-enough',” Izaya scoffs. “If he had his way, I'd be locked in a cage, of use only to him and his little cronies.”

“That's what you signed up for. You'll get yourself killed if you keep meddling. I mean, come on, Akane-chan? What did you think would happen by sending her off on her own like that?”

“Who says I was behind any of that? Akane-chan has a smartphone. Kids like her are always going to be involved in things, because they want better than they're given.”

“I don't believe you, and I know Shiki-san doesn't, either. It's clear he's punishing you, but...” Shinra leans closer, lowers his voice like he thinks Shiki is in the next room. “To be honest, I thought you'd have it way worse than this. You ordered Shizuo-kun's attack too, didn't you? I thought Shiki-san would hang you upside-down.”

“Again, Shinra, you're reaching way too far. I never said I was responsible for Shizu-chan either.”

Shinra pouts, and then sits back in his chair, shoveling down more rice. “Fine. Don't tell me. Just take better care of yourself, at any rate. It's not like you can't cure the effects of fatigue with your power. You're choosing to suffer, right? But then again, you've always been like that.”

“Don't you have another appointment soon?” Izaya asks, annoyed by Shinra and his big mouth. He's often wondered if friendship is supposed to be this exhausting, but it isn't like he has anything else to compare it to. Shinra was always the only one crazy enough to stick around.

“I'm only saying. You should accept your punishments and actually learn something from them every now and then. It seems like you just bounce back, more determined to make a nuisance of yourself than before.”

“If I don't make a nuisance of myself, I'll die from boredom,” Izaya lilts. “It's really that simple.”

“More like you're worried about being forgotten.”

Izaya resists the urge to throw something at Shinra, who is wearing a strange expression, something akin to actual concern.

“You've improved on your acting ability,” Izaya says, pushing away from the table. “Don't act friendly towards me now. It doesn't suit you.”

“I am your friend,” Shinra insists. “I'm the only one you've got, so maybe you should listen to me once in a while.”

“It always goes back to Celty anyway. What, are you worried I'm going to use her for something too dangerous?”

“Celty agrees with me that it's unusual for you to allow Shizuo-kun to be in your space as you have. Are you actually feeling guilty?”

“Are you?” Izaya stands and grabs a bottle of red wine from his counter before he pads over to his desk. “I don't have the time for this, Shinra. See yourself out when you're ready to go.”

Shinra sighs loudly, finishes his dinner, and picks up his briefcase. He walks towards the door.

“Take care of yourself, Izaya-kun. If you even know how to.”

Izaya uses his magic to slam the door shut behind Shinra, and then he drinks until he passes out.

***

He wakes hours later, in bed somehow.

Groaning, he sits up, trying to remember the night before. His mouth feels like cotton, and his head feels like it's trying to split itself open. He thinks he may throw up at some point in the very near future.

“Feeling better?” Tsukumoya asks from beside him. The shades are drawn closed, and the room is still dark despite the sun being out. Izaya glares at the vampire in his space.

“Why are you here?” he croaks.

“You don't remember? You invited me. We fucked.” Tsukumoya has his laptop, and is typing ridiculously fast even as he speaks. “It was quite the evening.”

“I'm serious. You just keep popping up. It's annoying.”

“Mm. I had a feeling you were being your usual destructive self. There's water for you on your nightstand.”

Izaya reaches next to him, grabs the glass before chugging it. His stomach immediately churns dangerously in protest.

“Why not take a healing potion? I know you have plenty of them,” Tsukumoya says, still not looking at him.

“Don't need it.”

“Right, you don't. The great Orihara Izaya doesn't need anything or anyone, how could I forget?” Tsukumoya finally glances over at him. “You might need to reconsider. Tonight's the night of the full moon. You'll need to be alert when your puppy visits.”

“Fuck, is it? I forgot all about it.” Izaya groans and flops back into the bed, rolling away from the annoying vampire in his space. “You weren't supposed to come until tomorrow.”

“Stop complaining so much. Do you need more water?”

Grumbling, Izaya tries to piece together the night before. He drank too much, he remembers that. Shinra was being annoying. He definitely fell asleep at his desk, meaning Tsukumoya carried him to bed.

“We didn't really fuck, did we?” Izaya asks.

“No. Did you want to?” Tsukumoya's voice is annoyingly smug. “I wouldn't be opposed.”

Izaya snorts and closes his eyes, wills the room to stop spinning. “Don't flatter yourself. You're not my type.”

“I'm not? Here I thought you had a thing for monsters.”

Izaya considers throwing Tsukumoya across the room, but that would be rising to the stupid teasing, and it would require more effort than he currently wants to exert. He stays where he is, listening to the sound of Tsukumoya's fingers on the keys.

“You're being especially pitiful lately, Izaya,” Tsukumoya says after a while. “So you've lost control of your little game, so what? Maybe you should think of what to do next instead of working to the point of exhaustion. You know I hate it when you're predictable.”

“Why does it matter what I do? I'm trapped.”

Tsukumoya sighs. “Yes, you are. And what are you going to do about it?”

“Right now, I'm going to be miserably hungover. Next, who knows? It'll surprise us both.”

“If only I found you sooner.” Tsukumoya goes back to typing. “The things you could've done. Humans are always finding ways to control what they don't understand or fear. But now, you can only help yourself. If you believe you're going to be trapped forever, they've already won.”

“I know that.” Izaya thinks of the work assignments that aren't ever going to stop, and he thinks of Akane, of Shizuo. He knows he went too far, but he has to go even further still.

Tsukumoya seems like he wants to say more, but he pauses, and the typing stops once more.

“You really might want to take that potion now,” he says. “One of your executives is on his way here.”

***

Izaya does not take the potion, and when he answers his door, it's with a slightly green complexion. Akabayashi takes one look at him, and promptly bursts into laughter.

“Oh, wow. And I thought I drank too much. You look awful, brat.” Akabayashi invites himself inside, stepping around Izaya. “I'm doing a wellness check on behalf of the boss. You understand, right?”

“Seems like I have more people in my life than I thought,” Izaya says, closing the door before moving to his couch. “This is my third wellness check.”

“Hard to believe a roach like you has friends, but then again, this city has an infestation. You missed a deadline today.”

“I got a little carried away last night. I've been in bed all day.”

“But you answered the door fully dressed, like you've been up and about,” Akabayashi presses.

“I sensed you coming,” Izaya lies.

Akabayashi hums in thought, and he grins menacingly. “Ya know, I ran into Heiwajima the other day at Sunshine. He seemed really interested in who bit him and why.”

“You should tell him,” Izaya says. “If anything, it would get him off my back for a while.”

“Oh, don't act innocent. We all know who made the phone call that started everything.”

“Clearly what I want doesn't matter. You've made that abundantly clear.”

Akabayashi walks closer to the couch, and he leans closer to Izaya. “Watch yourself, kid. Just because you haven't been caught in the act yet doesn't mean we don't know you're guilty. That magic of yours will only get you so far with us.”

“If your power spans so far, you shouldn't be worried about what I did or didn't do. If you really knew I was guilty, you'd have killed me by now,” Izaya says.

“Assuming monsters like you actually have enough humanity left to die.”

“Why don't we both find out?”

They glare at each other, and Izaya can sense from Akabayashi that the executive would like nothing more than to tear him limb from limb, but he won't. It would be against Shiki's wishes, and as much as Akabayashi hates it, he has to follow orders, or he'll be next on the chopping block. He takes another step towards the couch, but before he can do or say anything, the door slams open with such force that it bangs against the wall and cracks it.

“Hello, Shizu-chan,” Izaya calls without breaking eye-contact with Akabayashi. “Entertain yourself for a moment, will you?”

“What the fuck is this?” Shizuo asks. He growls when he notices Akabayashi. “Oi! I still have questions for you, asshole!”

“I'm sure you do,” Akabayashi says, standing up straight again. He grins at Shizuo. “I can't answer 'em for you, though. Sorry about that.”

“I could always beat it out of you,” Shizuo says, cracking his knuckles. “I'm even stronger than I used to be, since you bastards made me into a monster.”

“You wouldn't get far. I'd relax, if I were you.” Akabayashi turns back to Izaya. “Get to work, brat. Shiki's only so forgiving.” With that, he turns on his heel, and goes towards the door. Shizuo makes to stop him, but Izaya lifts his hand and summons Shizuo backwards, towards the couch.

“What the fuck!” Shizuo shouts, fighting it. “Let me go!”

“Don't make me exert myself, Shizu-chan. I'm having a rough day,” Izaya says. Shizuo turns and glowers at him, but his features soften.

“What's wrong with you? Are you sick?”

“Yes.” The door opens and closes, and Izaya knows he's alone with Shizuo once more. “You didn't knock this time.”

“Didn't think I needed to. It's not like you weren't expecting me.” Shizuo leans down, scrutinizes Izaya. “You're hungover.”

“Don't read my mind,” Izaya huffs, curling into himself.

“I didn't. You reek of alcohol.”

Grumbling, Izaya summons a blanket and throws it over himself. He doesn't know if he prefers Tsukumoya's company to Shizuo's, but at the moment, he thinks he'd rather deal with the vampire. At least for a little bit.

What a messy flea. Shizuo thinks, and then he walks away from the couch. There's the sound of him sifting through the fridge, but there isn't anything for him to find. Namie had the day off, and Shinra cooked what little was available the night before.

“You might have to order out,” Izaya calls. “You have a couple of hours before sunset.”

Shizuo growls loudly, thinks something about Izaya being useless, and then pulls out his phone. Izaya stays where he is and doesn't move, enjoys the silence for a few moments before it's ultimately shattered by Shizuo, who is suddenly sitting on the couch near Izaya, but still far enough to where they're both comfortable.

“I ordered pizza,” Shizuo says, and he leans back against the couch cushions. “You should foot the bill.”

“If you wanted me to pay, you could've ordered something better,” Izaya replies.

“Nah, everywhere else would've taken too long. Pizza is fast and easy.”

Izaya watches sleepily as Shizuo picks up the remote and turns the TV on, flipping through a few channels before settling on a soap opera. It should feel weird, sitting here with Shizuo, watching a woman sob because she caught her husband having an affair, but it really doesn't feel weird at all. Maybe Izaya is too tired to feel one way or another about it, or maybe their strange mental link has done the majority of the work in making them civil towards one another. Either way, Izaya feels comfortable enough to let his guard down a little, and it's an instant relief, like setting down something immensely heavy.

“So, I don't get it. Why are you just sitting here feeling like shit when you can heal yourself easily enough?” Shizuo is still looking at the screen, but he's back to poking around in Izaya's head, whether he knows he's doing it or not.

“Shut up, Shizu-chan,” Izaya says without any real bite.

“Oh. You just want to feel bad. Seems like a stupid thing for someone who's supposed to be some kind of genius, but whatever.”

The woman on screen is confronting her husband's mistress, and it winds up in a fist fight on a balcony. Izaya snorts when the mistress is pushed off to her death. How predictable. Shizuo is scowling at the TV, but he's thinking about his shared dreams with Izaya, and also about some images he's been seeing through Izaya's side of the link. He's also thinking about Shinra, who apparently ran into Shizuo last night after his last appointment. Shinra seemed worried about Izaya.

He's a good actor. Izaya sends. He always has been.

I don't think he was acting. You look worse than you normally do.

I'm hungover, as you so aptly put it. You being in my head isn't helping me feel better.

“I'm not doing it on purpose!” Shizuo snaps, and the sudden loudness has Izaya flinching. “I don't get why it's happening either, okay? I'm only just now starting to believe it's not actually you doing it.”

Because you've seemed like such a mess ever since it started. Shizuo thinks, and Izaya grinds his teeth in frustration.

“I'm not a mess.”

“What did that guy want?” Shizuo asks, changing the subject abruptly.

“Akabayashi-san stops by from time to time to threaten me. It's a pastime for him.” Izaya is starting to feel nauseous again, so he closes his eyes and wills it to go away.

“Don't you work for him, though?”

“I don't work for anybody. I'm a freelance informant for hire, and I give the organization he's part of information when they pay me for it, same as anyone else.”

Shizuo frowns, thinks something biting about Izaya working for the Yakuza. “He seemed like he wanted to hurt you.”

“Oh, he does. They all do,” Izaya says. “They'd kill me if they could.”

Shizuo doesn't like that he has something in common with the Yakuza. He grimaces before he says, “So what? You're just too strong to die or some shit?”

“No,” Izaya replies. “I'm just too important for them do dispose of. I'm part of the reason they're as powerful as they are, and they know it, even if they hate it, even if they hate me. I'm the strongest tool in their arsenal. Killing me would be crippling themselves.”

Silence follows Izaya's words. Shizuo's mind is a whirlwind now, thinking so many things at once, all laced with rage. He doesn't like anything about what Izaya said, the way it was said so flippantly, the way Izaya doesn't seem to mind. Shizuo doesn't like that Izaya thinks of himself as a tool, as something other than human, even if it might be true. Shizuo doesn't want to think of himself as other than human, either.

Shizuo doesn't seem to do well with the truth.

“That isn't true,” Shizuo growls, no doubt in response to Izaya's thoughts. “You're a person. I'm a person. We're other things too, but whatever we are, we're human first. You said so yourself, right? You can die, you can be killed. You're human enough to die.”

“I'm telling you this once, and once only, beast,” Izaya murmurs, opening his eyes to glare at the TV as he speaks. “It would be the exact same as breaking a screwdriver, or losing your favorite toy. If I died, that would be it. They would just replace me. They want to, and they would if they could, but I'm one of the last of my kind, and I'm definitely the most powerful one left. I don't care about it, because I've always known I was only useful for what I knew and what I could do. If you're going to be hated, you damn well better be useful. That's the way it is.”

“Fuck that!” Shizuo yells, and he stands, his hands clenched into fists. “What the hell are you talking about? You think it's okay to sit here and feel sorry for yourself, like you didn't have a hand in being the hated little rat you are? You think it's just because of your magic? You're the one deciding to do the shitty things you do. People hate you. If they knew you were a witch, whatever, maybe some of them would hate you more, but it's only because they hate you already. Get the fuck over yourself.”

Izaya laughs, delighted at the outburst. Doing so hurts his head, and his vision swims. This is pitiful, isn't it? Feeling useless, being forced to lie back and swallow vomit just so no one else can ask anything more of him. If he's a tool, he's a damaged one, and every time he's human, he dulls himself a little more. If this is a game to be played, and his opponents have the winning hand, Izaya will make sure none of them win. He'll destroy himself if he has to. He'll destroy everything.

“Trust me, Shizu-chan,” he croaks, “I know they would've hated me either way. The difference between us is you're searching so hard for a place to belong, and I've accepted long ago that it doesn't exist. Now would you kindly shut the fuck up? My head hurts.”

Shizuo is seething, his breaths labored as he works to calm himself down. He wants to lift Izaya up and shake him until his head pops off. Then Shizuo wants to tear apart everything in the apartment, maybe go punch Akabayashi for good measure. He hates that he sees the reasoning in Izaya's words. He hates himself, and he hates Izaya more than anything else.

“Get out of my head,” Shizuo grits out.

“I'm trying,” Izaya says, and he leaves it at that.

They lapse back into silence, and when Shizuo flops back onto the couch, his brow is furrowed, his jaw set. It's clear he isn't going to let this go, but he at least doesn't want to be in a terrible mood before his transformation. The bloodlust is worse when he's angry. He has to keep reminding himself that Izaya is a liar, first and foremost. Izaya uses words to protect himself, and Shizuo doesn't have to, and won't, ever do the same.

“Well, isn't this cozy?” Tsukumoya's voice asks as he walks down the stairs. He's wearing a hood, covering himself from the weakening rays of sun that still shine through the windows.

“I thought you left,” Izaya calls as Shizuo whirls to growl at the vampire.

“I was going to, but I figured I'd stick around to make sure you didn't die,” Tsukumoya says. He smirks at the scene of Shizuo and Izaya sitting together almost peacefully, watching trash TV in silence. “I wondered how your nights with the puppy went. I suppose I can see for myself now.”

“Why the fuck are you here?!” Shizuo barks, and then he whirls to face Izaya. “Does he always just pop up like this?”

“Not always,” Izaya says. “He stayed the night.”

“What?”

“Relax, Heiwajima-san. Rest assured, I didn't touch him.” Tsukumoya flounces past the couch while Shizuo's face turns a variety of fun colors. “At least, not much.”

Shizuo stands from the couch, and Izaya sighs loudly.

“Don't you have anything better to do?” he asks Tsukumoya, who is still looking at Shizuo appraisingly.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. I trust you won't drink yourself stupid a second night in a row?” Tsukumoya says, looking at Izaya.

“I don't have the luxury tonight,” Izaya answers.

“Right, you're puppy-sitting.”

“Do you mean me, you fucking—“ Shizuo starts, and he barrels towards Tsukumoya, who easily side-steps him.

“Make sure you eat something at some point,” Tsukumoya calls to Izaya. “That pizza will help you feel better.”

“I don't want it,” Izaya grumbles, covering his head with the blanket. He hates both of the people in his space right now, and he just wants to sleep.

You must be making a conscious effort to not heal yourself if you're still this sick over a hangover. Tsukumoya's voice sounds in Izaya's head. Is this really helping anything?

Yes. Izaya can't escape either of them, can he? They're both annoyingly perceptive and persistent. He can feel fondness radiating from Tsukumoya, but it's quickly being overshadowed by the amount of fury pouring from Shizuo, who is clearly listening to their mental conversation.

“Your pizza is here,” Tsukumoya says, and the knock comes a moment later. “Make sure he eats something, please,” he says to Shizuo, and then he vanishes before anything else can be said.

***

Shizuo scarfs down the entire pizza at breakneck speed, once or twice trying to get Izaya to accept a slice before giving up. He doesn't care if Izaya eats or not, and he doesn't care if Izaya feels sick or not. Shizuo's mood increases as he eats, and by the time he's finished, he's as mellow as he ever is while sharing a space with his mortal enemy.

Izaya, for his part, is starting to feel a little better. His stomach rumbles a bit at the scent of the pizza, but his appetite wanes at the grotesquely barbaric way Shizuo eats. It seems worse than usual, more...animalistic.

In fact...something seems off about Shizuo, even for a full moon. Maybe something happened earlier, or maybe Shizuo just went too long without eating until now, but Izaya can sense the bloodlust permeating from Shizuo like a miasma.

“Shizu-chan,” Izaya says, slowly sitting up to level his gaze at his unwanted guest. “Have you taken your potion?”

“Huh? Of course I have,” Shizuo replies. His hair is glowing from the fading rays of the sun as it descends behind the tall buildings outside.

“Have you taken it exactly as you should, the way I instructed?” Izaya asks through clenched teeth, already knowing the answer.

“Well— I drank it all a couple of days ago. I spent all day with Vorona, and I didn't want—“ Shizuo pauses at the look on Izaya's face. “What? What did I do wrong? You said to take it all before the full moon, and I did!”

“I told you to drink it every day, bit by bit, and to finish it before the full moon. The exact way you've done every month until now, because you're so pathetic in the presence of that woman that you can't follow basic fucking instructions!” Izaya snaps, and Shizuo's eyes widen.

He looks scared. Shizuo thinks, and then a beat later, Oh fuck. He's scared of me.

“Izaya, I—“ Shizuo begins, and then his hands grip his knees as his body begins to shake. The sun's rays fade at last, bathing them in twilight. “I feel...wrong.”

Izaya stands from the couch, the room spinning as he does. He's not at his full power. Even if he weren't hungover, he hasn't been eating or sleeping the way he should, buried in work as he is, and reluctant to care for himself as ever. He starts towards the stairs, in search of the healing potion he should have taken earlier, but he knows it's already far too late, as Shizuo's body is already beginning to crack and twist, and his mind is already gone, replaced by that of a true monster.

“Shizu-chan, you're such a fucking idiot,” Izaya hisses, and his sentence is barely finished before Shizuo is lunging at him, aiming for his throat.

#with teeth fic #shizaya #Izaya Orihara #Shizuo Heiwajima #witchy izaya #werewolf shizuo #shit goes down and also apparently people like Tsukumoya pestering Izaya so I added more of that

[binniedeactivated]

so reading your last beomgyu fic made me think about something... 😳 do you think you can write a college au smut where the reader is an exchange student and beomgyu is assigned to introduce her to uni rules (and stuff like that) but things go.. wrong?👀 shiiit, i've got a lot of beomgyu in my mind wth 🤣

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 | 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐛𝐞𝐨𝐦𝐠𝐲𝐮 𝐱 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤!𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞 𝐚𝐮!𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐖/𝐂 | 2.7k 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐬𝐦, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐥𝐚𝐩 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤, 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐲𝐦·𝐩𝐡𝐨·𝐦𝐚·𝐧𝐢·𝐚𝐜 / 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞.

a/n: hope you enjoy this! ily </3 

“babe they just assigned me a new student, I already told you that”. beomgyu spoke while throwing a hoodie over his head. he was on facetime with his long time girlfriend lana.

“i know and that pisses me off. we were supposed to meet up and I have another class in an hour or two. ugh can I just come to your dorm room after you’re done?“.

“yeah that’s fine I guess. It shouldn’t take that long”.

she scrunched up her nose. “you guess? so that means you don’t want me to come then?”.

beomgyu rolls his eyes.  he hated how she always caught an attitude for no reason. “that is not what I’m saying”.

“if you don’t want to see me beomgyu just say that then”.

“and why would I say that?”

“because. you’ve been avoiding me lately anyways. what is it? are you with someone else?”.

he shoves his feet in his sneakers. “I haven’t been avoiding you I have basketball practice. don’t you have my schedule? do you ever look at it?”.

she sucks her teeth. “whatever. I’ll be by your dorm in a few. I’ll text you when I’m there”.

sneaking a look in the mirror beomgyu flattens the small hairs that were sticking up from his head. it was getting late in the evening and of course he didn’t look as neat as he did this morning but he thought he looked pretty decent for now. he closes his room door and checks the messages sent to him from the floor’s RA.

room 325. he looks at the array of doors in front of him and realizes the room he was looking for should be around the corner. he turns down a few hallways and once arrived he knocks softly before shoving his hands in his pockets.  this arrangement was pretty frequent for him so he wasn’t nervous at all to recite the floor rules. it often went smoothly if the student didn’t have any extra follow up questions.

but once the door swung open beomgyu’s eyes widened. standing just beneath his nose her skin was the beautiful color of milk chocolate. her curly, black middle parted hair stopped just at her shoulders. her pudgy lips were glazed in lip gloss and her dark brown almond shaped eyes and curly eyelashes were nearly way too beautiful for beomgyu to even look into. he fidgeted nervously.

“um-hi hello I’m choi beomgyu i’m uh..this floor’s assistant RA”. he introduced, hoping she didn’t think he was a total dork for his stuttering. yet she gave him a small smile anyway. the whiteness of her teeth was blinding, might he add.

“hey I’m jasmin. Is there anything you need?”. she leans in closer while leaning on the doorway and beomgyu felt his heart throb. he discreetly backed up a bit to keep himself from being so nervous. she was just so beautiful and he never thought a girl like her would even want to transfer to a university in south korea.

“um-- I just have to lay down the floor rules. it’s a procedure done with every transfer student. uhh do you have a minute?”.

she nods before chuckling softly. “yeah but--are you okay? you seem a little..off”.

beomgyu shakes his head trying to laugh it off. “ah no no it’s just.. um- I’m a little worn out from practice today so I’m tired and my mind isn’t fully here”.

“Ah I understand”. she nods. And she did. playing a couple of sports back in america herself, she knew the feeling of a long day’s worth of practice. The both of them take awkward glances into the opposite directions avoiding each other’s gaze.

“so? do you want to come in?”. she invites after a couple a seconds of silence.

“yeah um-- sure this won’t take long”. he accepts. he hoped he wouldn’t do anything stupid while he was in there. after closing the door behind him she kicks a small box further in her closet. it would be off-putting for beomgyu to see her sex toys firsthand. because jasmin was a nymphomaniac. she wasn’t afraid to admit that sex was her livelihood and she needed it every night and day.  it was a good thing beomgyu wasn’t paying attention to her at all though, more so on the way she decorated her dorm.

“wow it’s pretty nice in here. you decorated this all on your own?”.

“yeah. needed a chair to get to the high places but I tried. would you like a snack or anything?”.

“no no i’m fine. thank you though. so yeah- welcome to sejong dorm hall. you’ll love it here. it’s the most diverse out of all the dorm halls on campus. our rules are pretty simple. if you return late keep quiet, no outside guests allowed in the dorm hall, don’t damage any of the building’s furniture or belongings, no drugs or any intoxicating liquor and my favorite rule of them all, no sex of any sort”.

she laughs. “no sex huh?”.

“yeah. I’m sorry that’s the dumbest rule ever. the university really values study time and giving students a peaceful place to study even if it’s in their rooms. and of course if someone’s having sex in the room above, things aren’t as peaceful”.

she shrugs her shoulders. “eh I don’t know. I think I’ll still be able to calculate an equation or two with a bed rumbling above me“. she jokes, with her and beomgyu sharing a laugh soon after.

“but um- I do have a small request”. she says meekly.

“what is it?“.

“I have this kind of condition... and i was wondering if it can be excused“. she says lowly and beomgyu wondered why she was fidgeting all of a sudden. but she had to ask him, otherwise she’d be getting kicked out pretty soon.

“um yeah I can make some arrangements with the RA...what’s the condition?”.

she draws herself closer to him. beomgyu immediately grew nervous, backing himself into the nearby desk.

“I’m um--”. she semi-whispered. she places her arm on his shoulder, her lips were just inches from his own. “I’m kind of a nymphomaniac. if I don’t get what I want my condition will get worse. can i be an exception to the rule?”.

the way her pretty eyes stares at his lips in need. beomgyu didn’t know what to do with himself. he felt caged in. and he hated the fact that he was being turned on just by the seductive tone in her voice. he swallows the lump in his throat.

“I um---I don’t know if the university will allow th--”.

with no warning she pushes her pillow-like lips against beomgyu’s gently kissing him over and over before slipping her tongue in between his lips. she promised herself she would stop kissing him if he didn’t kiss back.

but he did.

she wraps her arms around his neck and allows the kiss to gradually grow rough and sloppier. beomgyu wanted to stop, he swear he did. but her lips were something he couldn’t get enough of. the way she kissed him with desire and passion like it would be the last kiss she ever had in her life. she clutches his wrists and slides his hands down to her ass.

“jasmin--”. beomgyu spoke in between the fluttering kisses. “jasmin I don’t think we should do-- this we’re going to get expelled”. yet the more he kissed her he didn’t know if he was trying to convince her or himself. what made things even worse about this affair was the sheer fact that he knew no one would ever approve of it. because jasmin was black. especially his girlfriend who would practically murder beomgyu if he ever found out he cheated on her with a black girl. but beomgyu disregarded skin color. he always did. he was never racist like his peers. his phone buzzed in his pocket. he fishes it out and glances at lana’s caller ID. jasmin pulls away with the same seductive glance before she hangs up.

“how about we make a deal beomgyu?”. she offers while pushing him backwards until he was sitting on the desk. she crawls on his lap and holds the nape of his neck sucking hickies into it. beomgyu’s eyes closed and a sigh of relief spills from his lips. her lips were different than the small pecks he was used to from lana. her lips were so hypnotizing, soft and perfect he couldn’t even bring himself to speak.

“if you keep fucking me and covering for me,”. she starts prior to leaving hickies in a few other spots. “I won’t tell your little girlfriend about this”. she finishes before moving upwards to kiss his bottom lip. she tongue kisses him once more. ��deal?”. she smirks knowing she already had beomgyu wrapped around her finger. she reaches underneath her skirt and sluggishly slid her lacy panties down her thighs. beomgyu didn’t know how much his lips were parted due to pure shock and arousal. she tossed them to the side.

“deal?”.

he nods his head desperately and she clashes their lips rougher this time around. the more she grinds her hips against him the tighter his pants felt. it isn’t like he had to do all the work either. once she felt him get hard she unzips his jeans and pulls it out herself. she bit her lips and inches herself down on it until beomgyu was fully seated inside of her. she was satisfied, finally filled and wanted nothing but bliss to take her mind away.

“does it feel good baby?”. she asks softly.

and beomgyu, god beomgyu looked as if he could just melt. his eyes were lidded and hazy while he looked at her. she hadn’t even moved a muscle yet and the hairs on the back of his neck were already raising at how wet and tight she was. his mind boggled at how everything about her was so hypnotizing.

he clutches her waist and nods diligently. “p-please ride me”. he begs. she follows his plead and does as she were told, sinking down his dick slower than she reared up. beomgyu’s head drops back between his shoulders with an erotic groan.

“you have to be quiet gyu. remember the rules?”. she breathes loving the sight of the blonde-haired boy becoming undone.

“you feel so fucking good”.

she grins and continues with the rotation with of her hips trying to keep the meek moans that awaited in her throat at a minimum. he brings his head up and lets his hands bracket her moving hips. he thought he finally had himself under control through his weighty breathing. but jasmin does a thrust particularly hard that unraveled him all over again.

“s-shitt”.

she grins once more. “potty mouth”.

“i c-can’t control myself”.

and he couldn’t, especially with the room filled with nothing but their discreet moans, the squelchy sounds of jasmin riding his lap and the desk clashing against the bed in front of it. she quickens her pace,  being just as stubborn as the orgasm that ached within them both.

“fuckk this feels way better right?”.

by now beomgyu’s head was clouded. he wanted to groan as loud as he want  it was painful that he had to keep quiet. he resorted to low whimpers while gripping her waist tighter.

“don’t ask stupid questions. look whose the potty mouth now?”.

she wanted to say something slick back but she couldn’t. she was also trapped in her own clouds with her hands splayed on gyu’s chest. “oh my god”. she hisses, almost dreamy.

beomgyu gazes at her, “come down here”.

“w-why?”.

“because if you keep riding me like this I don’t know if i’m going to be able to control myself much longer”.

bouncing atop of beomgyu she leans her head lower to flatten his lips, the both of them drinking in each other’s moans to keep them from going directly through the walls. he reaches his hands down to cup her ass while her thighs trembled.

“fuckk--fuck keep doing that”. beomgyu groaned in between the pauses of their hot feuding tongues.  she ruts her hips down harder with each thrust with curse words of her own disappearing into the cavern of beomgyu’s mouth. without warning and in perfect sync the both of them reached their highs, jasmin still riding him diligently even with his cum dripping down her thighs. his hips bucked up into her still cumming, he decides to hold her up to refrain her from riding him no longer to keep from the overstimulation. she smirks while watching him finish. she kisses his sticky bottom lip yet again.

“fuck-- did I just cum inside of you?”.

she chuckles and kisses him one last time before climbing back down off of his lap pulling her skirt down. beomgyu sat up and straightened himself up again.

“don’t worry, I take pills beomgyu”.

he breathed in relief, zipping his pants back up. “good”. he stood up with his legs kind of limp and him kind of feeling tired. he didn’t know what he was going to tell lana when he got back to his room. he couldn’t believe what he was about to ask jasmin but he shoved down his pride. he couldn’t get enough.

“maybe, maybe I can get your number for whenever we do this again?”.

#choi beomgyu #beomgyu #beomgyu smut #txt smut #beomgyu x black!reader

[northlight14]

A love for love

Description: Roman loved love. He always had, even as a small child. So why was it so different whenever he was involved?

TW: panic attack, mention of making out but nothing is actually shown, cursing, questioning, unrequited love, let me know if I should add anything else

Ships: unrequited royality, platonic roceit, dukeceit

Genre: high school au

Prompt: prompt 6, aromantic (prompt by @pridewrite2021)

Roman loved love. He always had. Even as a small child, he'd watch wide eyed as Prince Charming leaned down and gave sleeping beauty true loves kiss, something so powerful that it was able to break an evil witches curse. He'd stayed up till early hours in the morning, squealing with excitement as he read about two warriors able to take on an entire army, motivated by their want to keep the other safe and stealing glances at each other as their metal swords collided with the enemies weapon. He'd sing his heart out when a romance song came on the radio, gushing about their love interest with such emotion that Roman adored.

Yes, Roman loved love.

So why was it so different whenever he was involved?

The earliest memory Roman had of this was when he was in first grade. Two of his classmates ran up to him giggling as they sang "Savannah has a crush on you!" Instead of feeling that overwhelming joy like the ones described in his books and music, he felt a deep cutting disgust in his stomach. Roman felt less like he could conquer the world and more like the world was going to swallow him whole. Rather than singing any great love song that he'd sang so many times in his room or in the car, he began crying instead while the two girls looked at him in confusion.

"It was just because I don't like her." Roman told himself.

But this feeling of being out of place only grew as his fellow classmates gushed about their boyfriends and girlfriends, crushes and which cartoon character they find cute. Granted, they were in second and third grade, so the terms "boyfriend" and "girlfriend" roughly translated to "they let me borrow their crayon at break once and now we're in love and going to get married." However, this love for love spread like a virus and Romans desire to fit in only grew. So, during a sleepover with his friends, Roman looked upon the TV, at the princess Aurora and decided 'She'd make a good crush.' Before announcing it to the crowd of toddlers, the words immediately sounding wrong as he spoke them, as if he'd spoken them in a foreign language. He decided that night to never speak of his supposed "crush" ever again. Roman liked Aurora with Prince Philip much more, anyway.

Roman was in fifth grade when he was talking to one of his best friends, Valorie. The two of them just laughing and joking when his friends approached.

"Who's your girlfriend, Ro?" one laughed, putting his arm around Roman. And he knew it was a joke. He knew that. But it still felt like the arm hadn't wrapped around his shoulders and instead knocked all the air out his lungs in one hard punch. This moment lingered in his mind like a haunting apparition, quickly causing any friendships with girls to become strained. First only talking occasionally while in class or on the yard, to only talking when his guy friends weren't around, to only texting outside of school to nothing at all. Roman mourned these friendships but it had been made clear that boys and girls couldn't just be friends and the idea of people thinking he was dating any of these people made him feel like a caged bird.

Later that year Roman decided, despite his love for love, he didn't want to date. The reason for this being...

"I'm just more focused on my career."

"I just don't see the point in dating right now."

"I've never really liked anyone so what's the point?"

"I just like being more focused on myself."

And any other excuse he could possibly come up with, repeating them as many times as he needed to to believe them. Roman had always been a good actor, after all. But, of coarse, with this supposed decision came "reassurance" from adults, as if they had the ability to see the future.

"You just haven't met the right person, yet."

"You'll change your mind one day, when you get a bit older."

"All kids say that at your age."

"Roman isn't interested in dating YET."

These invalidating promises made Romans blood boil the more he heard them. It was as if he was yelling while trapped in a soundproof box, unable to escape. But, despite what seemingly everyone around him was saying, Roman knew deep down that romance just wasn't for him.

He also remained thankful that this love for love hadn't infected his friendship too much.

That was until seventh grade when what was originally a few cases of a love for love became an epidemic. It seemed that all anyone wanted to know was "do you have a crush on her?" "Did you hear that Lily and Reese are going out?" "Do you find her attractive?" This soon made its way over to his friends as they talked about how hot the girls were and teased each other relentlessly about who they liked. Roman once again felt like an outsider in his friend group. His friends conversations about their girlfriends may as well have been spoken in Latin.

Then the day came when his twin brother, Remus, came out as gay and started dating a guy named Janus. It then occurred to Roman.

"Maybe the reason I haven't been feeling anything for all these girls was because they were girls! Maybe I like boys instead!" Roman had never been a very logical person but this definitely seemed to make more sense. If he didn't like women then that surely must mean that he liked men instead, right? Because otherwise...otherwise Roman didn't know what that meant.

So Roman tried. Really God damn tried to find boys cute, to fantasize about dating them, to relate to gay experiences. But all he was met with was the same foreign and hollow feeling he'd felt when he lied about having a crush back in 2nd grade. Roman quickly began feeling his love for the concept of love diminish.

So when Roman entered grade 9, he decided to put anything to do with his romantic feelings (or lack there of) in a little box in the back of his mind to deal with later. Instead putting his passion and good acting skills to use by joining his schools drama department. The moment he stepped foot on stage, he felt himself come alive. The crowd, the praise, the creativity, it was addicting.

And it was only made better with the more friends he made. There was one person who he grew partially close to. Patton Heart. The two quickly became best friends, often hanging out outside of rehearsals and texting non stop. And, for the first time in what seemed like years, Roman was happy and comfortable.

That was until 10th grade. Roman way lying on his bed watching Netflix on his phone when a message from Patton came through. Roman clicked on the message and was caught massively off guard as he read it.

Patton: hey, Roman. So I've been thinking a lot lately. In particular about us and about you. And over the past few months I've started to realize that I have a really big crush on you. You're really handsome, funny and talented and I love spending time with you. It's totally ok if you don't like me back, but I figured it's better to be honest.

It should've been it. The moment when one of the main characters confesses their feelings for the love interest and they proclaim they feel the same way. Sparks fly and their hearts beat faster with excitement. It all becomes so clear when they hear that confession in movies and books.

But this wasn't a movie.

Roman felt time stand still as he read the message, his hands shaking so much he didn't think he would be able to respond even if he knew how to answer.

He couldn't breath. Why couldn't he breath?! The edges of his vision went fuzzy as he desperately gasped for air.

"Patton's great." He thought through his suffocating panic. "He's funny and charming and sweet. You should like him. Why don't you like him? What's wrong with you?!" Romans thoughts yelled as he tried desperately to hold back the tears threatening to spill over.

Not sure of what else to do, Roman ran to Remus' room, hoping he'd know how to respond.

Roman knocked on his brothers door and Remus responded with a very annoyed "come in" after a few beats of silence. Remus and Janus were sat on Remus' bed and Roman could tell from their slightly red lips that the two had been making out. But he wasn't in the headspace to even pretend to care that he'd interrupted them right now.

"Ugh, what do you want?" Remus said, clearly too irritated by his brothers presence to notice his distress.

"P-Patton just messaged me s-saying he likes me and I don't know what to say." Roman barely stuttered out, trying desperately not to cry in front of Remus and his boyfriend.

"Aw, cute. Roro finally got a man." Remus joked but Roman was definitely not in the mood for that kind of humor.

"Do you like him back?" Janus asked, calmly, clearly taking more notice of Romans distress.

"Well, I do. But not like that."

"Ok, so just tell him that. It doesn't have to be this whole thing. Why are you getting so upset?" Remus said, looking at Roman as if he was stupid.

Which, to be fair, Roman did feel very stupid right now.

"He's my best friend. I don't want to upset him." Yeah, that was the reason Roman was freaking out. He just didn't want to hurt Patton. That was it.

"Well, just say you don't want a relationship right now or some shit. Besides, he's probably more worried now because you've taken so long to answer." Remus pointed out. Yeah, Roman was never coming to Remus with his problems ever again.

"Yeah...ok." Roman said. Slowly, he walked out the room, noticing Janus looking at him curiously but deciding not to focus on it.

Roman: I'm really sorry Patton, but I don't feel the same way. We can still be friends tho. It doesn't have to be awkward between us. Especially because I really like being friends with you.

Patton: Yeah, that's ok. This is kinda what I was expecting to be honest. But yeah, I still wanna stay friends.

A few days later Janus came over again for dinner. Afterwards, Roman went into the living room and sat on the couch, scrolling through Instagram.

To his surprise, Janus followed after him and sat next to him. "So, how are you feeling after a few days ok. Broken his heart yet?" Janus teased.

Roman huffed out a laugh. "Uh, yeah, we agreed to just stay friends. Which I'm happy about but it's also really weird. I honestly don't know where we go from here which sucks because I really like Patton. Just not like...that." Janus nodded in understanding.

"You must care about him a lot if you had a panic attack just because you didn't want to hurt his feelings." Janus said. Roman just shrugged in response. "So, does that mean you like someone else?" Janus asked.

"No...I. I don't know. I've...I've never really liked anyone. I don't think I ever will. And people say I'll change my mind but...it isn't like I've made a choice. I've felt like this my whole life and everyone around me has had a crush on someone by now. I just... don't think I was built for romance. Which I know probably sounds stupid but that's just how I feel." He said, so honest it almost hurt.

Janus nodded slowly, taking in what Roman was saying. "It doesn't sound stupid." He said before pausing, as if considering his next choice of words. "Roman...have you ever heard of the term aromantic?" He asked.

"No." Roman answered, looking at Janus curiously.

"It basically means someone who experiences little to no romantic attraction. So they don't get crushes and stuff like that." He explained.

Roman felt his heart leap and for once it wasn't because of a fight or flight reflex. "Wait, that's a thing?" He asked in disbelief.

"Yeah, a surprising number of people identify with it. I don't want to assume anything but I thought I might mention it just from what you've told me and what Remus has said in the past. Plus that panic on your face yesterday reminded me a bit of when I tried to force myself into romantic situations with girls." Janus smirked to himself.

That night Roman researched more on aromanticism than he did for his science test. The more he searched, the more it just made sense. Of coarse, he still had a long way to go towards self acceptance. Roman could feel himself already starting to mourn the idea that this was a choice he'd made ages ago and he was going to feel romantic love one day. It was an odd feeling, realizing that even though he knew deep down it wasn't a decision and he'd always hated when people made those comments, a part of him took comfort in adults promising that he'd change his mind one day. He was also horrified to realize that he didn't know what his future was supposed to look like now without romance. After all, media seemed to show single middle aged adults exclusively as depressed and lonely. But as he scoured through wiki articles to tumblr pages to memes, he knew this was a good start to unlearning any nonsense society had been shoving down his throat.

The more Roman learned and the more people he talked to online about it, the more he started to feel his love for love increase. But instead of it being centered on a prince and princess in a movie, two in love warriors keeping each other alive in a book or a cheesy love song on the radio, it was a different type of love Roman was finally starting to feel the more he accepted himself.

Self love.

Reblog’s >>>> likes

#ya'll really thought you'd get through pride month without me projecting onto roman? #while not everything in this story applies to me the vast majority of this is based of my irl experience #so this was a lot of fun for me to write #and if you're aro and have a different experience that's so valid #sander sides #pridewrite2021 #fanfic #pw 6 #tw panic attack #tw cursing #tw questioning #tw unrequited love #roman sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #patton sanders #unrequited royality #platonic roceit #dukeceit #demus #romantic dukeceit #romantic demus #aro roman #aromantic roman

[urmomsstuntdouble]

89 for the writing promp game? 👀👀 whichever characters u feel like it fits

oof this took a while. wasn’t sure who to write it about, and i didnt use those exact words, but. yeah. here it is! 

(3rd person pov, lithuania x romano)

.

Nobody enjoyed world meetings. It was a known fact, and one regular humans would probably assume without knowing what transpired at such meetings- Which wasn’t much, in all honesty. And while they weren’t fun, they weren’t always bad. Sometimes they’d be in a nice city, and flights would line up with those of friends, and so forth- Today was not one of those days. 

Tolvydas had stumbled off their train at three o’clock in the morning, and into their hotel bed two hours later. Their body now ran on two hours of sleep, and the conditions of the meeting didn't do much to help them stay awake. Jackets and ties were folded over the backs of several chairs, and some of the other nations held small wooden fans in death grips. Some were slumped over, and others stayed at attention. Of the other Baltic states, Estonia had removed his glasses and Latvia was clearly more focussed on his smartphone than the presentation. Tolvydas couldn’t blame them. The heat of the room seemed a cage, pressing in on them and making sweat drip down their back. 

Why did the meeting have to be in Southern Europe? Tolvydas could handle the heat, but being trapped inside for an entire day- On which nothing tainted the pure azure of the sky- was a lot. A glance around told them they weren’t alone, as nearly every forehead shone with sweat. Every now and then, Tolvydas’ head touched their chest and they jerked back to attention. Their efforts were futile, though, and they’d yet to catch a single word of Paraguay’s speech. 

Someone tapped their shoulder- Feliks, sitting at their left. Tolvydas looked down at them, where they’d rested their head on crossed arms. 

“So bored,” they mouthed, and Tolvydas nodded. They shifted their notepad into Feliks’ line of sight and gouged the word TIRED into the paper. Feliks nodded with pink cheeks and drooping eyelids, and swiped the pen away from Tolvydas. Wish there was air conditioning. LORENZO DOESN’T BELIEVE IN AIR CONDITIONING. 

Feliks giggled at that, attracting the glares of some nearby nations. Pink cheeks turned red, and they sank down a bit in their seat, folding their arms. Tolvydas sighed, and rested their head in their hands. Would it be a good idea to tape their eyes open? No, and they didn’t have any tape…shame. Tolvydas tilted their head around, looking for the host nation. Lorenzo. Romano, or Italy- They hardly ever spoke of things related to their nationhood. In fact, they only spoke as a result of social happenstance, that being Feliciano’s friendship with Feliks, and the Italy brothers shared a car, and that Tolvydas had spent much of the 90s on Feliks’ couch. A coincidence Tolvydas was fond of, actually. It was rare that nations befriended each other purely for social reasons. Even Feliks came into their life for the sake of politics. 

Tolvydas looked around the room yet again, this time searching for Lorenzo. Would he be drowning in sweat too, they wondered? The answer seemed to be yes, and they bit back a smile upon seeing him. He sat hunched over the desk, with his suit jacket resting on the back of his chair. Dark circles lined both his armpits and eyes. As if cued by their staring, Lorenzo opened his water bottle and took four hearty gulps, then returned it, empty, to the desk. Tolvydas blinked, and wiped some sweat from their forehead. When they returned to their hotel room, they would get rid of all these clothes and lay on the bed with the windows open until they fell asleep. 

They shuffled their papers about, searching for the weekend’s itinerary. They gave their speech the day before, but about a hundred nations still had to take their turns…According to the schedule, today’s last presenter would be Qatar. So the meeting would be over by…seven, maybe? Tolvydas pushed some air through their lips and picked at a loose thread in their shirt sleeve. 

It wasn’t until about seven thirty that Qatar gave her presentation, and closing the meeting took another half hour. Once that was done, the nations milled about and spoke, as per their custom. Rare was it that they were allowed to be people- Tolvydas would never understand how people could say they ‘didn’t pay attention to politics.’ Paying attention to politics was all they could ever do. Then again, they were Lithuania, not a person. 

Fortunately, many of the nations elected to move outside after the meeting ended. They fit right in with the students, bustling around the university campus. Nations fragmented here, splitting off with friends or returning to their hotels. Most importantly, though, they were stopped by people asking to take selfies. Tolvydas smiled and laughed when required, and let themself be dragged around with the other EU members. 

“Where are we going?” Asked Feliks at their side, and they nodded, glancing around. Tolvydas wasn’t sure they recognized this city- They’d been to so many, it was hard to remember, and European cities started to look the same after a while. 

“Not sure,” said somebody- Hungary. “I think Vene said something about a bar? I wasn’t really paying attention.” She snorted like it was punctuation, and Feliks laughed. 

“Oh, Erzsi! Hey, I didn’t see you there!” Feliks launched himself at her, and was lucky that she reacted fast enough to catch him. 

“Hi, Erzsebet,” Tolvydas said, suppressing a laugh. 

“Hey, losers,” She said, arms clenched around Feliks’ waist. “Glad to see you here, that meeting was stuffy as hell.” 

“Ugh, I know, right?” Feliks said. They righted themself, walking independent of Erzsebet again. “I was practically dying of the heatstroke.” 

“I don’t think you can get heatstroke if you’re not in the sun,” Tolvydas said. 

“You can,” a voice chimed in- Spain. “Trust me, summers are brutal at my place. Hey, can I ask you a question, Lithuania?” Tolvydas glanced over their shoulder, as if there was some other Lithuania he could be talking to. 

“Uh, yes,” They said. 

“Do you have nude beaches in your country?” Tolvydas choked on their own spit, and let out a strangled chuckle. 

“Y-Yes,” They laughed, “Sorry, I didn’t expect you to ask something like that-”

“I was thinking about all the ways I’ve gotten heat stroke before,” Spain told them, holding his hands in front of his chest like a T-Rex.

“And one was at a nude beach?” 

“Well, yes…” He narrowed his eyes. “More than one, actually. I don’t like nude beaches, Lithuania, because if you’re not careful you can get sunburned…I mean, you can on a regular beach, but it’s so awkward to be, like, in front of your people and putting sunscreen on your entire body, you know? And I’m a country, so it’s a lot of attention, and all that…You know?” 

“Well,” Tolvydas said, “Not really, because I don’t get a lot of sun, but yeah, sort of.” They bit their lip- Since they’d been talking to Spain, they had totally lost track of where they were in the city. The university was out of sight, and Feliks was now absorbed into a conversation with Hungary and the other EU Slavs. 

“Hm. You are pretty pale.” Tolvydas tucked some hair behind their ear. 

“Yeah,” They said, not sure what else to say. 

“Yeah,” Spain murmured, eyes darting about the street. “Where are you taking us, Feli?” 

“What?!” Asked Italy. He stopped in his tracks and turned around, causing Finland to crash into him. “Oh, crap! I’m sorry, Finland.” Finland gave him a smile and assured him it was no problem. 

“I said, where are you taking us?” Spain shouted, “I don’t recognize this street.” 

“Umm, I actually forget?” Italy laughed, “My brother has a bar he likes that’s near here, but I don’t like it so I don’t remember what it’s called? And he’s busy now, so- Yeah. Oh, hi Lithuania! I didn't see you there, how’re you doing today?” Tolvydas started, eyes widening. 

“Hi,” They said, “I’m tired, but it’s alright. You have a lovely home.” 

“Thanks,” Italy said, “Though it’s really my brother’s, I…I don’t really like it that much down here, to be honest. Don’t tell him I said that. But it is nice to visit!” 

“Excuse you, it’s lovely here!” Spain said, “I’m telling on you, Feli.” 

“Don't!” Italy shrieked, “Please?” He turned to Spain with wide eyes. Even Tolvydas would have to oblige, and they had plenty of experience saying no to cute people. Well. Cute dogs. And Raivis. And Feliks, and Russia. Maybe they did have experience saying no to cute people after all. 

“I’m only joking,” Spain said, “Besides, Lithuania here agrees with me, don’t you?” 

“Uh,” Tolvydas said, “I do, yes. It’s- It’s a very nice climate you have here. And I like this street- Very, uh, very nice cobblestones.” Italy snorted, his hair falling into his eyes.

“Thanks, I’m glad you like them,” He said, though they weren’t his. Tolvydas hummed, and took a moment to really look at the street they were on. Buildings kept the sun from reaching them, but not the warmth. Storefronts beckoned here and there, with parked motorcycles at intersections and window boxes at second floor windows. Every so often they passed some graffiti, though most of it was nonsensical to Tolvydas. Not once did they see a street sign. If it weren’t for Lorenzo’s lead, Tolvydas would be completely lost. 

Finally, the group made it to the bar. It was a nice, quiet place- Tolvydas felt bad for the staff. They hoped nobody would get kicked out, though it was unlikely. Who was a nation, really, if they’d never been asked to leave a bar before? 

Tolvydas wound up sitting beside Spain, with Lorenzo on their other side. Neither spoke to them- Spain was discussing the art of bartending with Italy, and Lorenzo preferred glaring into his cocktail. Tolvydas wondered if they should talk to him- They’d only spoken a brief hello today, after all, and that was a formality. But he seemed annoyed, with his furrowed brow and crossed arms…And now he was looking at them. 

“Why are you looking at me?” Tolvydas sat a little straighter.

“Um. I, uh, I was wondering if it would be okay for me to talk to you,” They said, mouth dry. Lorenzo bit the corner of his lip, eyebrows raised. 

“Why wouldn’t it be?” 

“I don’t know, you looked, like, a bit irritated,” Tolvydas said, “S-Sorry.” 

“You’re right, I am,” Lorenzo said, “Fuckin’ hate hosting world meetings. There’s so many people who are just in my space, you know? And I didn’t even realize there were so many people following me when we were on the way here.” He lifted his cocktail. Black salt rimmed the glass, and Lorenzo licked some away. “Was talking to Belgium, got distracted. But she left to go back to her hotel, so. Anyway.” He hung his head between his shoulders. “That’s a bit much, I know.” 

“No,” Tolvydas said, “World meetings suck, whether you’re hosting or not…I don’t hate it but also there’s that invasion-y feeling.”

“Invasion-y feeling, yeah,” Lorenzo murmured, and licked more salt from the rim of his glass. “‘M tired.” 

“Me too,” Tolvydas said. “I need to bring hair ties tomorrow.” 

“That sounds useful,” Lorenzo mumbled. He took a slow drink of his cocktail, wincing at the end. “You don’t have anything to drink.” Tolvydas glanced down at the bar in front of them, and no, they didn’t. Huh, they hadn’t noticed. 

“I don't,” They said, and glanced over at the bartender. A young man with veiny forearms, chatting as he shook up a new drink. His hair was greased back into a pseudo helmet. 

“Giulio!” Lorenzo shouted, catching his attention. Giulio paused in his drink-making and glanced back, then nodded and went on with his business. “He’ll get you in a second.”

“Thanks,” Tolvydas murmured, “I could’ve waited.” 

“Yeah, but you’re talking to me right now,” Lorenzo said. He sipped his drink again. “And I don’t want to talk to you when I’m drinking and you’re not. Then it’s not equal.” 

“Fair enough,” Tolvydas said, “I can just shut up if you want me to-”

“No, we’re talking now,” Lorenzo said, “I want to talk. And it’s my country, so…yeah.” He took a drink. 

“I think it’s nice here,” Tolvydas said, “Very warm.” Lorenzo hummed, then glanced up- Giulio stood at the ready, finished with his previous drink. He exchanged some words with Lorenzo, who turned to Tolvydas after a moment. 

“What do you want?” 

“Um- Could I please have a krambambula?” Lorenzo relayed the message, and Giulio was up to drink-mixing. 

“What’s a krambambula?” Lorenzo mused, peering over the bar. 

“Wine and vodka,” Tolvydas responded, “Belarus’ favorite.” Lorenzo hummed.

“Didn’t you used to be married to her or something?” Tolvydas bowed their head, letting hair fall in front of their eyes. “So you did, huh?” 

“Y-Yes,” Tolvydas stammered, “Briefly, a hundred years ago-”

“She good in bed?” 

“What?” Their cheeks grew warm, too warm for it to simply be the heat. “No- I mean- I don’t know, see-” 

“Hey, calm down, I’m just making conversation.” Lorenzo waved a hand, “It’s none of my business, I know.” 

“We, um. Never slept together,” Tolvydas said, “She doesn’t like me very much, actually.” 

“Oh. That’s a shame,” Lorenzo said, and Tolvydas nodded, though they weren't sure what the shame actually was. A shame they never slept together? Maybe- Since she didn’t reciprocate their feelings, it was hard to really fantasize. They could daydream about kissing her all they wanted, but they’d still know that acting on it would be assault. So their feelings were in the process of fading away. A shame she didn’t like them very much? Eh, they would get over it. Eventually, maybe. They had time. 

Giulio returned with their drink. 

“Can I have a taste?” Lorenzo asked, “Never tried that before.” 

“Of course,” Tolvydas said, and handed him the glass. He took a sip, and struggled to keep his face from contorting in disgust. “You don't like vodka?” Tolvydas asked, taking a swig.  

“Shit’s nasty,” Lorenzo said, “Tastes like sadness. And like, we’ve all got issues or whatever, but mine aren’t so bad I need to drink vodka.” Tolvydas snorted. 

“Okay. Lightweight.” 

“Lightweight?!” 

“Yeah, vodka’s like 95% alcohol volume.” 

“Psh, whatever.” Lorenzo scoffed, and Tolvydas giggled at the sheer nonsense of it. “Why are you laughing at me?” He asked, leaning forward in his chair. 

“Psh, whatever?” They repeated, “That doesn’t even make sense.” 

“It does so,” He said, “You’re too small-brained to get it.” That stung a bit, but Tolvydas didn't mind. They understood it was a joke, though they didn’t appreciate it any more for understanding. 

“Whatever,” They said, looking away. Their eyes naturally picked Feliks out of the group- He sat on the bar, legs crossed, with a glass of wine held in both hands. He’d unbuttoned his shirt to the third button. Tolvydas shook their head- It wouldn’t be very long before they were completely drunk. 

“I hope Feliks doesn’t overdo it,” They thought. 

“Probably will. They look like they’d be wasted after two glasses of wine,” Lorenzo commented. Tolvydas jolted- They hadn't realized they were speaking aloud. 

“They’re- Yeah,” Tolvydas said, “They like parties, always have, but they get drunk too fast to enjoy it.” 

“Maybe that’s why they like parties so much. ‘Cause they don’t remember what one’s like, from all the drinking,” Lorenzo said, “Toni’s like that, sort of.” Tolvydas hummed, and swirled their drink around in the glass. 

“I don’t think such heavy drinking is a sign that one likes parties,” They murmured, “After all, if you like doing something, wouldn’t you want to experience as much of it as you can?” Lorenzo scoffed, and they turned their head to look at him. His arm was thrown around the back of his chair, with his chest out and facing them. Sweat still clung to his forehead- It was less oppressively hot in this bar than the meeting room, but only just. 

“Part of the allure of drinking is that it can make you forget about things,” He said, “Happy people don’t develop alcohol issues. And, you know, for people like us, it’s different, seeing as how we can’t fucking die.” Tolvydas shrugged in response. They shifted in their seat, feeling the cheap leather through their pants, and took another sip of their drink. Lorenzo was correct in that one liked to drink to forget. For people like them, there were virtually no downsides, save whatever you did while you were drinking. Once, Tolvydas had set a cow on fire and didn’t find out until the next morning when, in the clutches of a hangover, they were arrested. 

“I guess,” They said. Then, mind caught on the cow-arson, “What’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever done while drunk?” Lorenzo sucked air in through his teeth. 

“Done too much stupid shit to tell you off the top of my head,” He admitted, “But, uh, this one time, I drank up a town’s entire supply of wine. Bad move. Had to regrow my kidney.” Tolvydas winced, a bit less inclined to finish their drink. 

“That sounds painful.”

“Yeah,” Lorenzo said, “Much like hosting the fucking world meetings.” Hosting the world meetings was terrible- It was a constant headache to have so many other nations around you, especially if it was in your capital city. Tolvydas had never had maggots in a wound before, but they imagined that was what it felt like. 

“Oh, I know,” They said. It was a good thing they all shared the burden of hosting the meetings. Locations cycled through nations, such that Lithuania wouldn’t be the host country for another ten years- They’d still have to do smaller meetings, of course, like the EU and UN and such, but at least it wasn’t a world meeting. Over two hundred nations in the same city could make even the humans feel a bit off. 

“I’d be better if all you people hadn’t- hadn’t fucking followed me here. I mean- I didn’t want my idiot brother to invite the entire goddamn continent.”

“I’m sorry,” Tolvydas said, “I was just going with everyone else-”

“I don’t- You know, actually, I need to continue this conversation outside,” Lorenzo said, and stood up. He said a few words to Giulio and turned around, making for the door. Tolvydas’ skin pricked- What had they done wrong? It was just a simple conversation- But of course they’d manage to screw it up. They remained on the edge of their seat, with their eyes fixed on Lorenzo, as he walked out of the bar. As he got to the door, they stood. Should they apologise? Or- Or did Lorenzo want to fight them now? They pushed away the idea, knowing it was all probably fine. 

Tolvydas pulled out their wallet, and left a few euros beside their drink. They followed Lorenzo outside, stumbling when they left the bar. The moon had risen while they were in the bar. He stood in the middle of the sidewalk, bathed in silver light save the faint glow of a lit cigarette. Tolvydas swallowed. While it was dark outside, the heat from the day had yet to evaporate. Tolvydas speculated that if they were to touch Lorenzo’s skin, he’d be as warm as if he were sunbathing. Right, Lorenzo- They were not here to stare at him. 

“Are you okay?” Lorenzo jumped, turning around with wide eyes. His shoulders sagged when he saw them.

“Yeah,” He mumbled, “Just fuckin’ tired. Want to go home.” 

“Oh,” Tolydas said, “Sorry then, I’ll- I’ll fuck off now.” They turned away, poised to return to the bar. 

“No,” Lorenzo said, then bit his lips. “I mean-” He put his cigarette between his lips and took a long drag. He looked hollow for a moment before he turned his head and blew a ring with the smoke. “You smoke?”

“Uh, no, not really…not anymore.” 

Lorenzo hummed. “Shame. I could teach you how to blow rings, if you did.” 

“You still can,” Tolvydas said, voice paper-thin, “If you want. And if I could borrow a cigarette. World meetings are hard on the rest of us too.” Lorenzo raised an eyebrow, and pulled a pack of cigarettes out from his back pocket. 

“Ah, but you’re not the host, Lithuania. And you represent your entire country.” 

“You can call me Tolvydas,” They said, “I mean, if you’re comfortable with that.” 

“I just offered to teach you how to blow smoke rings. I don’t do that with everyone you know,” Lorenzo said, “Maybe I’m still fucked up from the meeting…But okay, sure. Tolvydas.” 

“Thanks,” They muttered, “Also yeah, sorry about your. Brother.” Lorenzo shrugged, and took another drag. 

“I don't want to think about him right now…No, I want to go home…” He bit his lip, and swayed from side to side. Was he alright? Tolvydas ran through a list of all the little things they knew to do if a nation was sick. Lorenzo coughed, and they twitched, hands reaching out for him. Instead of falling or even stumbling, Lorenzo put his cigarette to his lips another time. His cheeks shone in the orange glow. When he was done, he ground the butt under his heel. Three smoke rings floated away from his mouth. 

“I’m gonna go get drunk at home now…You can come if you want.” He turned on his heel, reducing the cigarette butt into a stain of ash. He had a nice gait, Tolvydas thought. A medium sized stride, and they couldn't help but notice the sway of his hips…

Several short and fast steps later, Tolvydas was by his side. 

song lyric asks

#oof i thought tumblr ate this ask and i was about to be so pissed #fortunately it did not! #anyway this was fun to write #i hope you enjoy it ! #hetalia #hws #hws lithuania #hws romano #my writing #my fic #ceros posting #ask #romaliet ?

[icollectyoursins]

Prosciutto x Homebody!Reader NSFW

Anon asked: "May I request some wholesome Prosciutto x homebody reader who doesn't go out much so they have a stay at home date? (Bonus if it includes nsfw then light bondage with reader tied to the bed + soft dom Pro and orgasm denial + praise kink) thank you so much 🥺"

During a dinner date at home, Prosciutto notices that you’re positively burning up and, being the excellent life partner he is, decides you need to rest in bed until you’re better. Or until you’re begging for him to let you cum, which ever comes first.

Wanna know what I’m willing to write? Rules here!

Have a character, but no idea? Prompt list here!

Looking for more? Master post here!

WARNINGS: Vibrators, Prosciutto being an ass but like... hot? And kinda sweet? Helping your partner eat their food (not in a kinky way, more in he’s an ass kind of way patronizing almost. With lots of innuendoes), light praise kink, bondage, anal fingering, orgasm denial.

Word Count: 1400

     Prosciutto elegantly placed your plates on the table, ignoring your squirming. The smell of delicious food floods your nostrils, making your mouth water. You flicked your eyes up to him, smiling sweetly when he did the same. A chuckle rumbled through his chest as he looked over your body. Though you tried to stay still, you couldn’t help the small tremble that coursed through your body. 

     To anyone looking in from the outside, they would have thought you were cold. You two, of course, knew that was far from the truth. Nestled between your legs, humming against your most sensitive parts was a vibrator. A vibrator that he controlled from his phone. 

     “You seem to be enjoying yourself, (Y/N).” Hearing your name on his lips made a soothing warmth spread throughout your body. You hummed, twirling pasta around your fork.

     “It’s not very often my man makes me such a delicious dinner. I’m a little beside myself, Prosciutto.” You both laughed softly.

     “If you enjoy your dinner that much, wait for dessert.” His eyes narrowed in a way that made your heart jump. If this was just the first course in what he had planned for you tonight, then you were very excited for what happened after. What seemed like a million images of him pleasing you floated through your head, making you all the more desperate to finish eating.

     You took your first bite and god, it was delicious. Prosciutto had outdone himself. You would need to ask for dates like these more often. Or maybe just for him to cook for you more. Since you were the one spending most of your time at home, it was agreed that you would do a large portion of the housework during the days he was away and he would come home with flowers every weekend or new clothes that he would make you model for him.

     He also had chores to do when he was home, but it was mostly handy stuff like fixing the sink, the washing machine, putting in new light bulbs, etc. Because he was away so often, most of his time was spent with you in his arms on the couch, making up for all the kisses he should have given you. Though, there were a few instances where you pretended things were broken again just to see him take off his jacket, roll up his sleeves and flex his muscles while trying to figure out the problem. He caught on pretty quick, but hey! If it lead to sex later and a smile on your face, he’d pretend to fix things all you wanted.

     Moments pass with the vibrator still on a low buzz. You start to wonder if he forgot or if he was just trying to be nice while you ate. Idle conversation about your days was made to keep the silence at bay until you had come close to finishing your plate. There were only a few forkfuls left when the buzz got stronger, making you moan out of shock. 

     “Problem, baby?” He purrs, knowing full well that there was indeed a problem. You weren’t stretched open over his girthy cock. That was the problem.

     “No, dear. Why would there be a problem?” You teased, obviously lying.

     “Good,” Prosciutto said, scooping up the last of his pasta into his mouth before getting up to clean the plate.

     Just as you were about to put a rather large mound into your mouth, the vibrator shot up in intensity again, eyes growing wide as you moaned again. This time, your hips bucked into the air of their own accord. You looked over to him, just to see what he was doing. His back covered most of his movements, you couldn’t tell if he was playing around with the settings on his phone or-

     “AaAah!~” You practically shrieked as the vibrator changed its pattern from a single pace to one that flicked on and off at a quick tempo.

     “Oh, (Y/N).” Suddenly, Prosciutto was beside you, humming your name while brushing his finger along your cheek. “Can’t finish your dinner?” You silently cursed him for being such a coy asshole. The back of his hand rested against your forehead. “Hm. Your face is rather hot, are you sure you’re okay?”

     You struggled to speak without moaning, but eventually, you were able to spit out his name through gritted teeth. A chair is pulled up beside you and his hand begins to rub your back softly.

     “Here, let me help you.” He takes the fork from your hand. “Trying to fit so much in your mouth while you’re like this? Tch. You should know better than to bite off more than you can chew.” You roll your eyes while he gathers the ‘correct’ amount of pasta, bringing it up to your lips. “Open. Good, that’s it. So good for me.”

     You groan in annoyance, finishing the bite before talking. “Stop making this hot.” Prosciutto laughs, leaning into your neck, breath tickling your skin.

     “Do you want to get right to dessert, (Y/N)?”

     “Please,” you huffed, bringing your hand to his thigh, slowly trailing it up to the bulge in his pants. 

     Without another word, he lifts you out of the chair, tossing you over his shoulder and making his way to the bedroom. You couldn’t help the warmth that pooled over you whenever he made you feel so weightless. All you wanted him to do was spear you on his cock while pinning you to the wall. One of his hands drifted up your thigh, squeezing your ass cheek, making you moan, headily, dazed from your lust-idled mind. 

     You were set down onto the middle of the bed, clothes quickly discarded to a pile in the corner. Prosciutto cages you underneath him, kissing a trail from your lips, down your neck right to the tips of your fingers, then, he attaches the first strap to your wrist. You can’t help but moan and squirm under him as he repeats the same action to the other hand. It was time for your legs now. The anticipation made you squirm, gently bucking up into him.

     “Patience, (Y/N). You’ll get what you want.” He leaves another trail from your sternum down to your knee, extra careful to not touch your aching genitals in any way. He bends your legs, teasing you as much as he can. You moan and keen under his touch, so close to your release. “Oh, right. Don’t move.” 

     With a chuckle, he gets up, walking back to the kitchen where he left his phone. He returns promptly, standing in the doorway with a prideful look on his face. As if you hadn’t been through enough, he turns up the vibrator again. You cry out, hips lifting up off the bed, then he turns it off. 

     “Prosciutto, p-please.”

     “Please, what?” Prosciutto pulls out the rope from under the bed. 

     He slowly crawls back onto the bed, taking his place between your legs again. Carefully, he ties the rope around the middle of your shin and thigh, leaving you immobile. Once he’s done both legs, he pulls a bottle of lube out of his pockets and squirting some onto his fingers. Fucking men’s pockets. You didn’t get the chance to think of a follow-up. His fingers were already on your aching hole, massaging your back door.

     “Ugh, just fuck meee.” You whine. The first finger is slipped in and you cried out again. Slowly, he finger fucked in and out of you, dragging against your walls at an agonizing pace. A second digit was added, then a third, stretching you open. “P-pleaaasee. I -uhnn~ I’m so close.”

     Prosciutto simply hums, continuing the slow pace while your cries get louder and louder. Soon, you’re writhing under him, eyes rolling back into your head. You arch your back off the bed, a telltale sign that you were just one push away. Your practically screamed out release was cut short by his fingers retreating, leaving you so, so empty. 

     Coming down from the shock, you realized you were crying. You hated that he could make you such a mess like this. But then that first finger was back at your ass again and you melted, begging him over and over again to wreck you; leave you limping in the morning. He chuckles, kissing your inner thigh.

     “Not yet, darling. Not. Yet.”

#prosciutto not sfw #prosciutto n/s/f/w #prosciutto n/sfw #prosciutto x reader not sfw #prosciutto x reader n/sfw #prosciutto x reader n/s/f/w #prosciutto jojo #prosciutto x reader #prosciutto prompts #jjba part 5 #vento aureo #not sfw

[crystalgirl259]

The Flame and the Dragon Chapter 29

Chapter 29: Brotherly Advice

Cole had to face it, making out with someone was not the worst thing the staff had caught him doing, but that didn't make him or Kai feel any better. Harumi had already left with little Nelson, trying to salvage the boy's remaining innocence while they still could. Shade groaned, crossing his arms with mock annoyance, completely unaffected by Cole's incensed glare. After he had heard Neuro screaming, he took a risk and abandoned his post in the kitchen.

He was shocked to find Neuro and their friends screaming along with Kai and Cole who were both in an awkward position on the bed.

It didn't take him long to figure out what had happened. Neuro just slouched in his seat and pressed his fingers to his lower temple. Across from them, Cole was growling like a caged beast. Jay, Echo, Tox, and Ronin all looked at the floor or off into space, unable to look anyone in the face without blushing. Kai buried his mortified face in his hands, refusing to even meet the perverse chef's smirk. After the incident, Kai had practically kicked everyone out of his room, grabbed the clothes they had bought him, and locked himself in the bathroom.

Though he could still feel the chill of his recent illness, Kai felt an instant relief being fully clothed.

If he simply been naked when everyone arrived he wouldn't have worried. He would have changed into the clothes just as calmly as he had since the day he arrived. However, being caught with his captor, the very Master of the Castle no less, in such a compromising position that shattered the youth's entire demeanor. Though he might be naïve in matters of seduction, he didn't deny that he had enjoyed his time with Cole before they had been interrupted.

Now Kai just wanted to curl up and hide until he forgot this was over.

Despite the thick sweater, warm overcoat, pants, gloves, and socks, Kai felt naked and exposed in front of everyone's awkward eyes. Unable to take anymore, he stood on wobbly legs and headed back to bed. He almost groaned when he saw everyone was still here. He might hide in the library until everyone forgot about this. He wouldn't delude himself into thinking there was any chance Shade wouldn't tell the whole castle about this if they didn't already know.

Shade interrupted, scooping up the abandoned teapot, poured the dark green liquid into a cup, and shoved it into Kai's hands.

"I fixed this for you and you better drink the whole pot while it's still hot 'cause I'm not bringing you another one." He warned and Kai opened his mouth to protest but after a hard look from Cole and Shade and looks of concern from the boys, he sipped the hot tea. Heat immediately filled his being but he grimaced and stiffened at the strange combination of bitter, mint, and sweetness crafting an unpleasant blend. He gasped after swallowing a large gulp and shuddered.

"What's in this?" He asked, pleadingly. The chef plopped onto the edge of Kai's bed, ignoring the teen's disgruntled scowl.

"Just something that should knock that chill right out of your system, and you better drink all of it, or you'll just break my heart." He shrugged as he refilled Kai's cup with a wink. Kai sank into the pillows and downed the cup quickly. His mouth and throat burned from the hot liquid and he felt heat suddenly flood into his system but the bland taste in his mouth made him feel sick.

"Ugh, this tastes awful."

"Most things that are good for you are awful, like staying in bed and getting plenty of sleep." Cole teased lightly. Kai glared and opened his mouth to protest but was instantly silenced when Cole tilted his chin and kissed his cheek. Kai forgot to breathe. For a moment, he forgot everyone else was there. Cole stepped away and fished the comforter off the floor and draped it over Kai's body that was now propped against the pillows. He then took a thicker fur blanket Harumi had left out from the previous night and added that as well until his flame was safely tucked beneath the warmth.

"I'll be checking on you every so often, so don't even think of getting up." He warned, kissing Kai's forehead and ushered his staff out the door. Neuro smirked and dragged Shade behind him back to the kitchen before he faded. Jay, Tox, Ronin, and Echo were not far behind him. Once gone, Cole handed Kai a second teacup. "Make sure you drink that as well, I don't want you dehydrating either; I'll ask Neuro to fix you something but I have no doubt the whole house will know you're awake by the time I get downstairs." He chuckled.

Monetarily breaking his trance, Kai shook his head and pulled on the neck of his thick sweater suddenly feeling very hot.

"Can I at least open the curtain? Get some light in here? It's too stuffy," He complained; the thick air felt hot and bothersome. Cole pondered for a moment before shaking his head.

"I'll put the fire out, but that's all; your immune system is still too weak, and the last thing I want is you catching pneumonia, too." He said as he got up and opened the fireplace across from Kai's bed. With a flap of his wings, the air blew out the flames. The resulting back wave sent a refreshing wind across Kai's front.

"Thank you." He said but glared at the teacup.

"Glaring at it won't make it go away you know," He chuckled and Kai growled in response.

"I really think this is all too much," He sighed as h looked away with a turn of his nose and set the tea on the nightstand.

"Maybe, but I don't like taking chance with someone I care about." He smiled warmly as he removed himself from the fireplace and swept to his flame's side and kissed his forehead. Before Kai could answer, the prince pulled away and left the room, a small smile on his face and he closed the door. Kai touched the cheek Cole had kissed and hissed at how cold his fingertips felt. A sudden lump in his throat made him cough violently until he grabbed the tea and downed as much of it as he could without coughing.

Maybe the tea wasn't such a bad idea.

Kai grimaced and set the empty cup next to the still steaming teapot. Kai pulled off the thick sweater, leaving himself in just his shirt, and gently tossed it to the end of the bed. Then he settled down beneath the thick covers and lied on his flat stomach. He rubbed his shoulders more out of confusion than cold. That had been the first time Cole had shown him any open displays of affection, let alone in front of his staff. Before, anything they had done together had been in the shelter of the library or Cole's room.

The most open they had gone was probably the dining room or outside, but even then it was only when Cole was positive they were alone.

Kai assumed that was for the sake of the servants. It must have been uncomfortable seeing their Lord partake in such open displays of affection, let alone with another person, no matter how much they encouraged it. A flush of heat darkened Kai's face when memories of that morning flashed before his mind. Embarrassment flooded his being at the memory of being caught. What they were about to do suddenly hit him with the blunt force of a sledgehammer.

He buried his face in his pillow dug one hand beneath the pillows, and another through his sweaty bangs.

Shade's bitter tea was working after all, and the crimson blush of the morning's events only made his body heat up unnaturally fast. He didn't know what he was going to do. The brunette released a muffled moan and collapsed as if sleep would erase all his confusion...

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

True to his word, Kai had obeyed Cole's orders and reluctantly remained on bed rest until Neuro and Echo firmly agreed that he was fully recovered, but by the end of the week, the lack of movement and being trapped in his room had driven Kai to the last of his nerves. He would have left the room if he didn't fear the wrath of the gossiping staff. That and he was worried Cole would get upset if he disobeyed him again. Fortunately, despite Cole's insistence that Kai needed as much rest as possible, Kai had had lots of company since the entire castle had been more than ecstatic when Shade flooded the staff with news of his awakening.

That and the buzzing with gossip about what had occurred in his room after Cole had forbidden the chef from speaking a word.

Ultra Violet and Harumi had come to check up on him occasionally while Neuro and Shade would bring him food. Echo would check his health and on more than one occasion Nelson would be with him, making sure Kai ate or drank all of his medicine he had been given, though most of the time he would just talk to him. Kai had been extremely grateful for the conversations since on more than one occasion he swore he would go insane from lying in bed all day.

Thankfully the boy didn't seem to affect by seeing Cole and Kai making out.

When the brunette thought about it, with what that child and everyone also had been through, seeing two people kissing would be the least of their trauma. Nelson was not much older than Lloyd and Kai could cry at the thought of his little brother and sister going through anything like that. Then again, he could cry just thinking about them at all. He hoped that they were settling into their new normal, without him. Perhaps if things keeping going well for him and Cole, Kai might be able to convince the prince to let him visit them from time to time.

But with what happened the last time Cole thought he would leave, Kai didn't think it would be wise to ask.

That didn't mean he didn't miss them every minute of every day since he was imprisoned in this castle. He also missed the boys always barging into his room asking to play games. He didn't blame them for keeping their distances at first, knowing full well he wouldn't be able to look either one of them in the eyes without blushing. Fortunately, however, on an occasion when the staff was currently occupied, they had been charged with keeping Kai entertained as it was Jay's profession.

That didn't mean it was uncomfortable at first.

After a few awkward stares and embarrassing questions, they confirmed that he was fine. The four servants were happy to finally see with their own eyes that Kai was alright. They were so happy that they all sprang onto his bed and hugged him tightly. Kai thought he would burst, but he just laughed and didn't complain. For the rest of the afternoon, they had done nothing but play games. Since then the quartet made it their personal job to see that Kai was kept happy and entertained while he recovered.

During their time together, Kai admitted that he had been scared about doing the deed with Cole.

He did care about Cole, more than he had anyone other than his siblings, but he wasn't ready for that stage of a relationship. Maybe when he was a little older and dated Cole a little longer he would be ready. They would have to see how things played out between them. However, it didn't solve one problem that had been on Kai's mind for well over a week. Cole hadn't come to see him since the morning he had awakened...

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

Cole sighed happily as he walked down a familiar hallway, a large bouquet of bright, crimson red roses and Griffin's newest lace creation tucked securely under his arm. His razor-sharp claws were extremely careful not to damage the delicate red petals. Once he concluded that the lace was simply for decorative persons and that the tailor was not attempting anything, he had gladly agreed to bring it to Kai. He had felt insanely giddy when Echo had come back from his daily check-up on Kai.

He confirmed that Kai was finally healthy enough to be up and about but that it was still best he remain indoors and continue to dress appropriately for the Winter to be safe.

Griffin, in his excitement, presented Cole with a new outfit he and the girls had been stitching in their spare time while the others kept Kai company. But at the same time, part of him felt extremely nervous. An emotion previously deemed unthinkable for the Dragon Lord. Yet for all his confidence and arrogance, Cole honestly felt like he had rather face an army than carry on down the hallway to his captive's bedroom. But still, he pressed on.

After all, it would be the first time he had seen him since the morning he and Kai almost slept together.

At least he believed that was the modern term for what it was. The memory made him growl in anger and shame at his own stupidity. How could he allow himself to lose control so easily? In this form with its superior strength, sharp claws, rough scales, and powerful muscle structure he could have easily damaged or severely hurt Kai with his brutality. Never mind the fact that Kai had just woken up from a coma and was recovering from freezing death.

Both of which Cole had caused thanks to his own paranoia.

Cole paused for a bit to cover his face, but his sharp claws gently poked his skin causing him to pull back. He glared at it with a mixture of hatred and disgust. He didn't have fingers, just curved claws that furled and unfurled according to his whim. His palms and hand was nothing more than a paw coated in rough scales and soft underpads. His scaled tail twitched almost arrogantly at his side. His disappointed wings hung limply about his back and he exhaled an exasperated sigh.

He had been very grateful Jay and the others had taken the liberty to keep him informed on Kai's reaction and feelings about what happened between them.

He knew he shouldn't have been surprised by them though. Kai was roughly the same age he was when he had first become interested in physical intimacy. Over the years, curiosity and loneliness had compelled the young king to seek relationships that branched beyond emotional commitments. It didn't surprise him Kai had the same urges. But Cole had to keep reminding himself that Kai was still young, compared to him. He was young enough to be his grandson, even if Cole's personality hadn't evolved much beyond his twenty-one years.

It didn't surprise him that giving himself to someone probably still scared Kai.

Again, he was grateful the others had taken upon themselves to keep Kai company and trusted him with the information they had received. Cole wasn't naïve. He knew even without his dragon form he was an intimidating figure. With it, it only made things more difficult. He knew even if his and Kai's relationship had been healthy and prosperous, and built on their mutual affection and trust in one another rather than the lust for physical contact, the desire was still there.

The emotional attachment only made the need much stronger, and that much more terrifying.

But it didn't change the fact that Kai was still human and he was a dragon and the physical difference created another problem. Cole wasn't about to deny that he wanted Kai, but he had known for a while it was much deeper than lust. He wanted Kai in a way he had never wanted anyone or anything else. Want couldn't even begin to describe what he had felt. Need didn't sound right either. He wanted Kai in mind, body, and soul, but at the same time, he had also wanted Kai to want him in the same way.

Just being near Kai was enough to heighten all of Cole's senses.

Kai's smiles and laughs and clever wit were enough to make him smile, even laugh for the first time in decades. Kai's fiery spirit and temper both challenged and delighted him at every turn, but Kai's kindness and gentle, fun-loving nature never ceased to amaze him, and though his hot-headedness and obstinacy annoyed him to the bitter end, there was simply nothing to dislike about his flame. The fact that Kai was by far the most beautiful person he had ever met.

He possessed gorgeous amber eyes that left him breathless with every gaze was only a bonus.

His flawlessly tanned skin looked like it had been carved by the very sun and glowed in the right light. Kai truly was a gem, and in the past, Cole's arrogant self would have said such a gem should only be his, but now he wondered if he even deserved the right to call Kai his. Not when he had taken so much from him. Not when there was so much he couldn't give him, even if Kai willingly gave him everything. Kai deserved so much more than what Cole could give him.

He deserved everything.

He deserved to live his life as free as a bird. He should be surrounded by everyone that cared about him. To be loved by someone who could love him more than anything else until the end of time. Not a prisoner to the man who tore him away from everything in hopes of using him to break the curse still looming over his head. Even if Kai did return Cole's feelings it wouldn't change anything. Cole swore that come spring the cruel mistress known as fate would return to reap his soul.

Kai deserved better than that.

"Are those for Kai?" A familiar voice suddenly asked and Cole was immediately taken out of his depressing thoughts by the innocent question, but the tone held ulterior motives. Cole stopped and followed the voice of his Steward. Zane leaned against a pillar with his arms crossed over his chest. Instead of his stoic expression, he sported a sharp, proud smile and confidence, almost arrogant eyes. Cole matched the steward's smirk with one of his own.

"As a matter of fact, yes they are, I thought he'd enjoy them, and Griffin was just begging me to let him try them on," Cole said with a confident flare and continued his quest. Zane didn't answer. Instead, he waited. When Cole walked past him he finally replied.

"He's pretty spoiled for a prisoner." He said, causing Cole to stop in his tracks, and whirled around.

"I beg your pardon," He spoke dangerously low. Zane's expression faded in an instant. His neutral mask returned.

"I'm only stating a fact."

"You dare jest about this?!" Cole accused, exasperated.

"I never jest." Zane cut him off and turned around to meet Cole's dangerous eyes with his own grave icy ones. "Think about it Cole, even though no one would dare even think of him as such, and he possesses an extraordinary amount of freedom, he is technically still your prisoner." He explained. Cole wanted to scream, protest, yell, and scold and dismiss his steward in a way that would ensure he never dared to disrespect him again.

Instead, he was silenced by his own anger.

Not at his steward, but at himself. There was no denying the truth in the man's words. He had just confirmed it not moments before. But hearing it from someone else, having that fact that the boy he dared call his own was, in reality, his captive, sent him into such a state of anger and remorse he couldn't speak. His body could only shake in fury. Zane said nothing to that but waited patiently for his Master to regain control of the emotion raging within him.

He watched Cole's trembling paw move to cover his face and run a hand grip his raven locks.

He watched Cole exhale and his posture become that of a man graciously accepting defeat.

"What would you have me do then, Zane? Though I am bitter to admit it, you're correct, Kai is still my prisoner, so how do you suppose I go about fixing it?" He asked.

"I thought that would be obvious; how else? Set him free." Zane chuckled. The words hit Cole like a hurricane knocking him off his feet. Each word dropped like a stone in a well. He had to set Kai free? Send him back to where he came from, away from his side, possibly forever? The thought clutched at his heart like a deathly cold hand squeezing the breath from his body, filling him with a viperous terror he couldn't see.

"How can you even suggest that? You were the one who suggested he might be my key and now you're telling me to send him away" Cole asked, his words were all breath. Zane raised an eyebrow, unaffected by the prince's outburst.

"You misunderstand, I said you should set him free not send him away."

"There's a difference?" Cole hissed.

"Let me finish; first, you should set him free, assure him that he is no longer a prisoner, then ask him to stay with you." He asked but Cole was dumbfounded. "Ask him to stay, not as a prisoner, or captive, or hostage or guest or even as the key; simply because you want him to stay with you, not out of any obligation, but out of his own free will," Zane answered his master's unasked question, his confident smirk more evident.

"You think I should ask him to remain with me, purely because I don't ever want to be parted from him?" Cole asked, bewildered.

"Don't you?"

"More than anything."

"I'm glad." Zane smiled as he removed himself from the pillar and leaned forward against the banister of the hallway. "Everyone in this castle cares for you Cole, we more than just respect you as our Master, we all want you to be happy and Kai makes you happy, and I have little doubt that he's the one for you; all you have to do is accept it and we'll accept you," Zane spoke with the purest of loyalty. Cole nodded, grateful for his Steward's words.

"And what of you, Zane?" He asked, his turn to flash the smirk of a cat with all the cream. Zane's eyes narrowed.

"I don't know what you're talking about," He replied, but in his voice, it was a lie.

"Come now, Zane, I know you're not naïve, nor are you oblivious, I severely doubt you haven't noticed your own brother's intrigue?" He smirked but Zane said nothing, choosing to close his eyes. His face was a cross between a pout of annoyance and a scowl of defeat. "How long have you known?" Cole asked, crossing his arms.

"I've known before he did." He answered, knowing it didn't exactly answer the question. A chuckle escaped him. "Back when they were too young to know what it was they were feeling; ironic how romantic feelings are obvious to everyone but those experiencing them."

"Perhaps, but perhaps that's the nature of love, it doesn't see with the eyes," Cole smirked as he leaned against the banister, next to Zane.

"That's true." Zane agreed though he sounded reluctant. Cole gave him a sympathetic smile.

"You do know no one can love him more than Jay does, I think that is more than clear."

"He's the one for Echo," Zane admitted, grudgingly. "I've known that for a while, too."

"You know he's not the child he used to be, Echo, I mean, I remember when he used to be a timid little boy who would follow you everywhere but was always exceedingly shy around you; I always thought that was because you acted more of a father to him than a brother, but not everyone has chosen to remain stoic this last century as I have, some of us have used this time to mature, evolve, and become stronger," Cole explained.

"Yes, Echo doesn't need a father anymore, he needs a brother and not one to take care of him, he has Jay for that, and he's mature enough now to know exactly what that means and what it entitles and to be completely honest," Zane spoke like he was irritated but there was legitimate respect and pride in his voice. "I truly do believe Jay is the one for him, and that just annoys me even more!" He growled as he gripped the banister. Cole couldn't help but laugh.

"Oh come now, Zane, you knew Echo would grow up eventually? That's no reason to treat Jay like he's trying to take Echo away from you."

"He is!" Zane snapped, before regaining his composure. "In a matter of speaking." He sighed and Cole laughed again.

"It's no wonder they've found it impossible to tell you?" He asked with another light laugh and Zane snorted.

"I really do hate being right sometimes." He huffed as he regained his composure and lifted himself to meet the prince. "So, will you be taking my advice then?" He asked and Cole remained still. His face neutral and his eyes betraying no emotion.

"I'm not sure." He replied and it was Zane's turn to smile.

"Do you doubt he will say yes?" He asked, catching Cole off guard. He pondered them for a moment, then turned on his heels and continued towards Kai's room.

"I appreciate your assistance, Zane." He called over his shoulder.

"That is my profession." The Steward nodded as he watched Cole disappear down the hall. A moment later, Cole found himself strolling down a familiar hallway. Zane's words continued to run around in his head. He smiled when he found himself outside Kai and room and shifted his clothed burden to open the door. He already knew Kai's answer...

#The Flame and the Dragon #beauty and the beast #ninjago #ninjago jay #ninjago ronin #ninjago tox #ninjago harumi #ninjago nelson #ninjago shade #ninjago zane #ninjago echo #ninjago cole #ninjago kai #lavashipping #steampunkshipping

[guidedbygunpla]

Gundam REDUX side story Chapter 4: Just another boy, lost in the woods.

             Char and Lalah walked for a while, mostly in silence, both of their minds clear of thoughts, simply watching the waves crash against the shore they walked along.

             “have you ever walked along a beach before?” Lalah asked, after a long while

             “no, the colonies I grew up in on side 3 didn’t have any real bodies of water, and I have mostly been stationed inland or in space up til now…..it’s nice, if I were to ever live in a colony with a  body of water, or god forbid move to earth, I could see myself building a house alongside the ocean, this is so calming”              “why would you say god forbid when talking about moving to earth, I thought that was your fathers one true wish….to move back to earth”              “it was, he always…..wait, my father?”              “you can’t hide things from me, I can read your mind after all. It’s alright though I won’t tell anyone about it, I realize you have to keep this mask on in order to protect me, and save those girls in the lab. Sorry I should’ve told you I was probing your thoughts”              “…well, yes you should’ve, but now that its out there in the open, yes it was my fathers dream that humanity would get to come back to earth, but we can’t. most of the globe is just salt water and sand at this point, the colonies were built as a cage, but the world outside of the cage is so much worse now then when we were put into that cage. Every cylinder on a colony can grow enough food to feed 150% of its population, the earth….I doubt it could grow enough for even 30% of the people living out there now.”              there was another long pause as they stared out at the ocean, the body of a zaku floated into view, its paint peeling off, and the high carbon steel below showed through, rusted and destroyed, likely the only thing keeping it afloat was the helium stored in its tanks that had failed to explode or leak out              “so you know my real name then, don’t you Lalah”              “yea, Casval…..your father was named Zeon, at least that’s the name you know he was given when he helped found the Contolist Church. Something about hot water and wine”              “old catholic ideas mixed with space age realities.”              “he called you Cassie, and he called your sister Arty. I like those names” Lalah said as she turned and looked at Char, her green eyes looked other worldly on her, as if she was looking into his very soul, which she kind of was.

             “so you know everything about me then huh…and yet I know nothing about you, seems a tad bit unfair” Char said as he reached up and took his helmet off, and his visor along with it, the world looking far brighter, and far more real without the rose tinted glasses

             “well….what do you want to know? I don’t mind telling you about myself, but where should I start?”              the pair of them followed the beach into a small sea side town, or the remains of one. The town looked to have been abandoned in a hurry, with cars still sitting along the road, and doors to homes and shops hanging open.              “well, where did you grow up? When did you learn about your powers? How’d you find yourself out here? If you don’t mind me asking of course” Char asked, his voice cautious

             “well, I grew up in Hyderabad in India. My mother was an Arcologist working with the local colleges Colonial science division and my dad was a politician, nothing huge though, mostly just treasury work”              “ah the earth born elite, must’ve been nice”

             “ha… it was awful, so many responsibilities. I just wanted to live, but it was always you have to go to your violin lesson Geetika, you have to go to your cram classes Geetika, you have to be home by 4 Geetika, your GPA is getting too low again Geetika. I hated it…I just wanted to be free, to explore. My parents didn’t understand it.”

             “Geetika? Is that your real name?              “yes, I was born Geetika Acharya Prasanna.”

             “so where did Lalah come from, I’m assuming you know where the name Charles Aznable comes from, but where did Lalah Sune come from?”              “ do you mind if we go for a drive? My feet are getting awfully tired” Lalah said motioning towards a derelict car that was sitting alongside the road. It was a small orange convertible, sporty, something that would’ve cost a lot of money.              “fancy….but I should mention, I have no idea how to drive” char said running his hand through his hair with a laugh.

             “oh right, you always had a driver, so you never had to learn to drive anything other than a mobile suit. Don’t worry I can take care of that” Lalah said as she opened the door and reached below the dashboard, below the steering wheel and began to muck about with the wiring harness to the car, until eventually the engine sputtered to life, the smell of burning ethanol filling the air              “what is that smell?” Char asked aloud              “its alcohol, have you never been around a car before?” Lalah said, patting the passenger seat              “well of course I have, but in the colonies theyre all electric, makes more sense, since you live in something covered in solar panels “              “well on earth we run cars off of alcohol” Lalah said as she put the car into gear and took off down the road through this old seaside town

“makes sense I suppose, it is flammable, and the sound the engine makes is quite pleasant” Char said setting his helmet and Visor in the footwell next to his feet and trying to relax as Lalah drove

“lords above, you can really tell just how high born you are sometimes Casval” Lalah said

with a laugh “so yea, I changed my name to Lalah Sune when I ran away from home, I didn’t want my family to be able to find me, I really just wanted to be left alone. There was a movie out at the time, Farewell Summer, and the lead actress in it was named Lalah Sune, I thought it was a nice name, so I took it. What we’re your other questions again?” Lalah asked as she pulled onto the on ramp to one of the old highways that snaked across the American west.

             “well when did you learn about your powers?” Char asked as he sat back into the plush suede seats of the convertible              “I think I always knew, when I was a kid I told doctors that I heard voices, that it was hard to think sometimes because it was so loud in my head, they thought I was crazy. Put me on medication after medication to try to fix it, I’d say I was about ten when I realized I could sort of control it by focusing on one or two peoples thoughts and then I would only hear those few voices, and when it was with people I loved, people I wanted to spend time with, it got much easier. It wasn’t until I met my first real boyfriend that I realized I was genuinely hearing their thoughts. I realized I could hear what he thought of me, and see what he fantasized about….it was quite freeing, knowing how much someone loves you, understanding them completely like that”

             “ugh, I’m not sure I could handle knowing what the people I’ve been with through the years thought of me. I’d feel so exposed” Char said laying his head back into the seat, watching the sky fly past over head as the sun began to set across the sea

             “well I mean, you’ve only ever loved Garma and another boy from when you were much younger right?”

             “I always feel bad that I can’t remember his name, he was my first kiss and I cant recall his name for the life of me. It was on a scout outing, my first real taste of life outside of Zeon and its trappings, no one treated me like royalty, I was just another boy in the woods. He told me he liked my eyes, and then he kissed me when the camp counselors were away….”

             “that’s why you fell in love with Garma right? Because when you saw him at your fathers funeral, he looked like the boy right? Same jet black hair, with the little curls in it?”

             “god there really are no secrets with you are there?….well yea, Garma looked like him sure, and he treated me the same way too, like I was just another boy lost in the woods. It was hard not to fall in love with him”

             “it is a shame you had to kill him, I can tell that thought is weighing heavily on your soul. But you felt you had no choice….couldn’t let your fathers ghost watch you become a member of the family that killed him….I am sorry you went through all of that Char.”

They stopped the car, as the road ahead of them was smashed and destroyed, a body of a Gouf lay shattered across it, oil and reactor coolant pooling up on the road ahead of them

             “thank you Lalah, it means a lot.”              “you saved me from a laboratory where every person in it would think about slicing my head open to see what was inside, like I was a pinata. I owe you more thanks than I could ever give.”              “I did the only moral thing” Char said turning to look at her, her green eyes again looked as if they held the entire cosmos within them

             “so often in war we want to be the moral and upstanding person, but within your heart I see that you know you cant always be right, that sometimes you have to be evil so that the right thing can be won out.” Lalah said as she turned the car around and headed back towards the flanagin institute and the Gow Char had come in on

               “so where will you go now? Now that you are free?” Char asked her

             “I will follow you Char, I know if I leave your side, my powers will be discovered again, and next time they might not take so much time to study me.”              “of course.”

 _______________________________

When Char returned to the flanagin institute he found Dozle was quite upset with him having broken Lalah out, saying that she was going to be a vital part of their newtype weapons program. Char informed him that he was going to train Lalah to be a pilot, and this calmed him somewhat. When char broached the question of the clones in the basement, and if he knew whose children they were, Dozle simple said

             “in war, sacrifices have to be made, and some men are strong enough to make that sacrifice.”

Char knew then that Dozle knew they were Gihrens children, he knew. He just chose to accept it as it was, as a fact of the world. An evil that had to be committed so that the right thing would win out in the end. No different to Dozle than killing Garma had been to Char. What a twisted world this had become Char thought to himself.

             He took Lalah aboard the Gow, and to his quarters, as an officer he had a private cabin, nothing outlandish. But he did have a private bedroom. Living quarters with a kitchenette and a bathroom to himself. He insisted on a second bed be brought in for Lalah, so she didn’t have to be near the common soldiers they were transporting as well.

             “I hope this is alright with you Lalah” Char said as they wheeled the spare bed into his quarters

             “oh its much better than I expected, in the institute I was kept in a padded cell, so this is definitely a step up” Lalah said with a laugh

             “I know this goes without saying Lalah, but everything we discussed today, no one can..”

             “remember, Char I can read your thoughts, I can see everything your minds eye can create. It’s fine, all your secrets are safe with me.”

             “right, of course. If you’d like I could go check with some of the female crew onboard, see if I could get some spare clothes for you, I think the only thing you took with you was that yellow dress”

             “that won’t be necessary, I typically just sleep nude. Growing up in india, sleeping nude in front of a fan was typically the only way to feel cold enough to sleep” she said with a side eye to Char, as small smile on her lips

             “oh….of course, well I will make sure to knock before leaving my room to come out here into the living area then, so as not to disturb you” char said looking away sheepishly

             “are you bothered by this Char? I know you find me attractive, and surely you can tell, even without the ability to read minds that I clearly think highly of you” Lalah said as she walked towards Char and wrapped her arms around his neck. Char felt himself expanding, his mind growing larger than his head, the walls around him disappeared, all he could see was swirling dust and stars, it was like he was floating above the milky way itself, the sounds of the waves crashing, and the feeling of floating at sea.

             “there is nothing to fear Char, I can feel you in ways that I have never felt a man before, you are a Newtype like me, we just need to unlock your powers, I can help you do that”

             “Lalah I don’t know what I am feeling right now, this is quite overwhelming”

             “we are melting into one another, our minds are becoming one, isn’t it a wonderful feeling Cassie”

             “it feels like I’m going home, I feel welcomed, I feel whole”

             “Char if you want me to stop, please just tell me….but I can tell you want this too, something inside both of us craves this”

             “I do, but Lalah, I’ve never, I mean….I’ve only ever been with Garma, I’m not sure I’ll know how to”

             “you are inside of my mind now Char, you’ll know”

               The world was a blizzard, a fire, a tropical storm. Small masses swirled dust around them until a planet formed from them. Humanity was formed, and they explored every inch of this ball of dust, until they could only explore what was above them, they saw the stars they saw the heavens. They touched the very face of god.

             Waves crashed, and Char felt his consciousness expand more and more. He could feel what lalah felt, he could see time, he could see the past, he could see the future, he could feel what had happened, what would happen. Lalahs third eye guiding him. He saw Lalah and him, in a small farm house on side 6, he could feel there was a family inside that house, that love would blossom in that small farm house.              was this his future?

                           Was he falling in love with Lalah?

Was this his past?

                                                         Was this a home his mother and father had shared before Zeon?

             He felt waves crashing as he made love with Lalah, it was different than making love to a man. But not wildly so, he had never imagined falling in love with a woman, he had never imagined himself falling in love for that fact. With Garma he always felt a pang of guilt when they were intimate, as Char knew how this was going to end. With Lalah he still felt guilt, but it was because of Garma, that if his fathers religion was right, Garma was likely watching him right now, making love to a woman less than a week after he had killed him.

             Garma didn’t deserve that, and Char didn’t deserve this

                           He heard Lalahs voice in his mind

                                         This is Life, none of us deserve it. It is a gift. And a curse. But we are different we aren’t tied to life the same way as others, our minds are free of it

               Char then found himself making love to Garma, they were both older, and there was a large bay window in the room, overlooking the Californian beaches he had seen earlier.              there were photos on the wall, Char in a tuxedo, and Garma in a white Zeon dress uniform, just covered in medals. A Contolist priest behind them.              was this a world where they had won the war? A world where Garma and him had married?

What was happening?

               He found himself now, a teenager, riding horses through the woods, the boy from camp was there with him, along with Garma, and a teenage Lalah, all riding horses through the forests of Side 3. The horse he rode on was familiar, it was Honeydew. His horse from childhood, She was okay, she was alive. She was fully grown

               “Lalah what are you showing me?” He asked concerned, this was terrifying, and wonderful

“as newtypes, we aren’t tied to reality the same as other people, when we’re together we can experience any reality we want”

He felt his mortal body climax, somewhere in the wake of this all, in the very distant part of space where surely his human form still lay, making love with Lalah

Char felt his body shrinking, he lay now as a baby, laying in his mothers arms as she rocked him, and sang to him, trying to help him sleep.

             He felt the world shrinking too, as he came back into his own body, Lalah held him, as he regained some semblance of consciousness.

             “I am sorry if that was overwhelming, I have never been intimate with another person like myself before, I wasn’t aware it would be so powerful.” Lalah said as she craned Chars lips to hers, kissing him softly

             “were those just fantasies? Or was any of that real?” Char asked as he sat up, he realized they were laying in his bed, and judging by the clock on his night stand they had made love for about 3 and a half hours.

             “I don’t entirely know, I know anytime I’ve made love I’ve ended up there, and when I was at Flanagan there would be times when I spoke with those experiments, I would feel my mind begin to expand the same as it did during the beginning throughs of passion, but I have only ever met 3 people outside of Flanagan like myself, and you are the first of them that I have ever made love with. I would occasionally feel my mind expand around the others, and moments where our minds would meld and we would fall into that place, where it feels like you’re in outerspace, but never like that, where we saw other worlds together.”              “I need you to teach me how to use this power Lalah, I want to be able to control it, I want to explore all of those places again” Char said as he kissed Lalah again

            ��  “of course, I owe you more thanks than I could ever give”

#gundam #redux #sidestory

[tetedurfarm]

Do you have any advice for getting into keeping rabbits? I was looking into getting a couple for meat production and possibly starting to learn to tan pelts but I don’t want to get confused over all the conflicting info on the internet about wire flooring and such things.

ugh, it’s so frustrating, isn’t it?  with pretty much every other animal you can just google “how to raise x” and get tons of good advice, but the rabbit results are dominated by HRS forums that will crucify you for even mentioning breeding, much less meat production. 

so here’s some points i’ve learned from experience to help you out:

1. wire flooring is not evil.  in fact it’s great.  it’s clean, it’s sanitary, there’s airflow if you use it in a hutch, and if you do it right you won’t have foot problems (unless you’re raising rex or giant breeds, but even then there’s easy fixes like my lattice mats.)

here’s what you’re looking for:  1″x0.5″ grid 16g - 14g wire.  if you order your cages from a manufacturer like Bass Equipment (my preferred cagemaker,) or Klubertanz, this will come standard.  if you make your own cages or buy from a feed store, it’s a bit more hit and miss.  

make sure the half-inch wires are on top when you build your cages, so the weight is distributed properly:

see how the smaller gaps are “on top”?

vs this side.  (shoutout to me having like twenty cages all in pieces in my living room to get these nice reference pics ;p)

i also recommend you get your floors galvanized after weld; they’ll last a long longer that way!

–

2. babysaver wire is called that for a reason.  babysaver is when there’s a 1x0.5 grid near the bottom of a cage.  it’s there to keep kits from falling out of the cage, and helps prevent predators from easily pulling kits out.

this is a cage with babysaver.  it does what it’s meant to.  i use these for my doe cages, and even if a kit gets dragged out of the nest, as long as i find it in time, it’ll survive because it didn’t roll out and get snatched by something off the ground.

vs one without:

i use these for bucks and my growout pens for older kits.  they are cheaper than babysaver cages, but it’s worth the money to keep your babies safe.

–

3. invest in a good pair of j-clip pliers.  even if you buy prefab cages, often times they’re cheaply made and you’ll need to fill in gaps so they don’t fall apart so easily.  it’s also good to keep them around just because, because after a while the clips can get rusty and fall off, and you’ll need to replace them occasionally.

good on left, not so good on right.  the ones on the left cost my about fifteen bucks from my favourite hilariously-named rabbit supply site:  Rabbitnipples.com.  the ones on the right were like $8 at my local feed store.  so a significant markup, but VERY worth it.  the good pliers are more comfortable to hold in your hand, and make much nicer/more secure crimps than the cheap ones.  i often have to crimp clips twice or more with cheap pliers, because of the way they’re shaped:

the good pliers have a solid mouth that make a clean loop with no pointy outy bits.  and they can double as removers if you mess one up!

this is topical because i lost my good pliers and had to order new ones, and in the meantime i built four cages and my palms are so sore/bruised from the cheap pliers.  don’t be like me.

–

4. vets kinda aren’t worth it.  one of the things you’ll see on HRS sites is that vets are ABSOLUTELY necessary.  i don’t hate vets, but they chronically have no idea how to treat rabbits, often making them worse or causing them to die because they administered a med that’s safe for cats but not rabbits.  they also often subscribe to HRS rhetoric that pellets are evil and rabbits should only eat hay and greens, which is…wrong (i’ll get to that in a minute.)  if you can find a good vet it may be worth it for one or two rabbits, but once you get into the double-digits, it’s just not worth it.  exotics vets are expensive, and i can’t afford $50 just for a consult for thirty rabbits.  learn how to treat everyday ailments like sore feet, wounds, abscesses, eye infections, stasis/bloating, and birthing issues on your own.  i suggest joining up with a meat rabbit forum (i like rabbittalk.net,) and going through their articles on rabbit medicine and herbology.  if i can’t fix it myself, that rabbit is soup.  and if a rabbit chronically has health issues, don’t use it as a breeder.  bad immune systems/teeth/feet/etc are hereditary.

–

5. things will die.  get used to it.  with livestock comes deadstock.  if you can’t handle animals dying, including newborn babies, or having to euthanize animals (including newborn babies,) don’t get livestock.  if you can’t look your food in the eye and thank it for its sacrifices, then don’t get livestock.  this is not a place for bleeding hearts.

–

6. don’t breed a new doe by herself.  rabbits are running on hormones only for their first litters, and sometimes they mess it up.  having an experienced doe kindle alongside her that you can foster to gives the new doe’s kits the best chance of survival in case she doesn’t get it quite right.  this ties in with the last point, though - you’re gonna have dead babies.  sometimes you have to make the babies dead yourself, because mama screwed up and the foster already has eight of her own.  not everyone has a n’rithaa who can nurse nineteen and not break a sweat, and the kindest thing to do is pick the strongest and cull the weaker ones so mama doesn’t have so many to feed.

–

7. feed them pellets until you know what you’re doing.  pellets are formulated to be perfect nutrition for rabbits.  they are the healthiest option imo, and definitely the easiest.  it can take a few tries to find a feed that works for you, but they’re generally not too expensive and if your animals keep weight and make babies, then they’re fine.  trying to feed fodder only is expensive, time-consuming, and often ends up with animals not getting enough vitamins that cause bone issues, bloating, and tooth problems.  i am 100% convinced this is at least half of the reason why you see a lot of house rabbits that go into stasis a lot and have bad teeth.  (The other half is they’re always poorly bred byb rabbits, but that’s another conversation.)  fodder can be done well, but unless you really have the time/resources to grow appropriate plants or have a lot of pasture to graze on (and no worms/cocci or other bad things in your soil,) pellets and hay are perfect.  especially if you show.

–

8. if you wanna get into tanning, just get a synth tan, and don’t expect fur rabbits to be an ideal meat producer.  fur doesn’t prime until the animal is about six months old, and typically you’ll be slaughtering them for meat around 12 or 16 weeks.  so if you want to produce fur, either stop caring about the quality of your hides, or get ready to spend more in feed while you grow them to prime.  i know it’s popular to use rabbits as a dual-purpose animal, but you need to set expectations lol.  so far i’ve found rabbits that are half rex produce really nice furs before “prime” age, but they still take longer to grow out than my meat-specific rabbits.  dual purpose really just means “not that great at one or both purposes.”

also just don’t even bother with brain/egg tanning and get you a synth tan like Rittel’s or Trubond.  “natural” tans have too much of a learning curve, require smoking to make them waterproof, and the results are subpar.  synth tans are cheap, easy, usually safe to put down a train if you’re on city water/toss outside if you’re on septic, and will produce a waterproof skin that’ll last forever.  

also alum isn’t a tan.  if you get it wet it’ll start rotting again.  if you wanna make clothes or rugs, use a real tan.  please.  i beg of you.

–

9. auto-water systems are godly but don’t waste your money on expensive ones.  if you don’t know this, i’m disabled, and i like to make things easy on myself so i’m not having to fill 39458639458 bottles a day.  it sucks.  auto-water systems are SUPER convenient because you only have to refill the reservoir every few days and keep an eye on the nipples to make sure they aren’t clogged.

the problem is:  they leak.  all the time.  forever.  when i first got started i used cheap water nipples from amazon and was annoyed at how often they’d start leaking, or were leaking right out of the package.  so i switched to the more expensive Edstrom system that you can order online from places like rabbitnipples.com, bunnyrabbit.com, the bean farm, and bass equipment.  problem is, those leaked just as bad, and the edstrom water nipples cost FIVE DOLLARS EACH.  when half the nipples leak directly out of the box, i’ve just wasted $20+.  at least the ones from amazon are like $20 for a bag of 100.  if they’re all gonna leak anyway, at least i won’t go broke having to replace them all.

–

i can’t think of anything else off top my head so i’mma cap it here.  i’ve been doing this for five years and learned many many things the hard way so hopefully you won’t have to!

#questions #cecile posts #faq #housing #equipment #this post is so long my neck hurts now from concentrating #foxstew

[animus-inspire-archive]

[having problems with reblogs ugh so new post, continued from here] @ofgeneticperfection

Why did she come to play? Yes, that was the big question. She grins and looks away from the uninteresting file and back to his rather interesting expressions. Her fingers were halted in that light touch of his. Light was definitely a sensation she wasn’t quite used to. “Because I like you Mr. Tuesti. You aren’t like the other employee’s around here trying to shove me away and back into the labs.” Though perhaps they had fair reason.

He didn’t want to run from her, nor did he cower. That alone was enough to provoke interest and play the game. Hanging around labs all day could get awfully boring and she only found thrill and interest in situations that brought risk. She ran off those charges and high emotions, not to mention adrenaline. If it wasn’t everything, then it was nothing to her. She only played in extremes. He had hooked her attention, but if he were smart he would sever it.

Her eyes cast towards his window and at the glimmering city outside. “You put so much fine work into this city that I call home. One whose view out the windows never grows old.” She slides her hand free from his grasp but not without being sure to drag every last molecule against his skin in the process.

She then wanders towards that cityscape and stands before it, peering out. “I’ve heard there are a lot of interesting places in the city. Places that I’ve never seen. Unique bars, glowing clubs, even those quaint and quiet atmospheres where you can watch it all happen.” She sure knew how to be persuasive.

“I was wondering. If you could show me your favorite.” She turns her head to peer over her shoulder at him. “I can find time to sneak away from the labs one of these nights.” She says with a chuckle. “Why not show me something new that you’ve put such hard work into? What do you say? I’d really like to see.”

Reeve’s fingertips on his file drummed out a single wave, perhaps in lieu of his others clasped around Isriael remaining still at her words, “That happen often?” He queries, a hint of surprise, a smidgeon of compulsion tamped down. He could have kissed her there and then, “That hardly seems... sensible.” He could have said humane, Isrieal was not an animal to be caged and tamed. She was a woman, was she not? 

Yet his word choice also served as a reminder to himself. As much as part of him also relished games of risk, this was a part more often seen in Cait Sith these days. Reeve, the man, was considered. Creative, compassionate and intuitive, yes, but also cautious, guarded and private. Up until the point someone else broke through his carefully constructed walls. 

Case in point, he understood that he was getting dangerously on the edge of playing with even greater risk, with a woman he still barely knew. Someone that worked in Hojo’s domain, where morality held no weight against the so called progress of science. He should sever her attention, and his upon her, before he did something uncharacteristically stupid. 

But then Isrieal just had to divert her chaotic energies towards something that held his passions and his pride. Something that had a special way of making his heart pound in his chest. The city of Midgar. Beautiful and terrible that she was, she was still his; a part of him, and he himself was inside every part of her.  Reeve makes a low noise, almost a warning, almost a plea, as Isrieal very deliberately and provocatively disentangles her hand from his. 

He desperately pretends it could be heard as a hum of thanks in return for her praise and takes a deep breath, settling. His own attentions have been caught once more. Ever curious, he turns and walks to her side at the view, pressing a hand up against the pane of glass, as if he could reach out to her now, “This might sound a little odd, but bear with me. People leave their marks in cities, that’s evident enough. But... cities leave their mark in people too.” He takes another look over her face and hair, dark eyes tracing every contour, before falling even lower, “I can’t see your city clearly, Isrieal. Why is that, I wonder?”

Reeve’s lashes flutter back upwards as he continues to muse, and Isrieal continues to speak, but she was right. She certainly knew how to be persuasive. Soon she wraps his attention back to her sly plans just as she had wrapped sharp fingernails around his tie. The Director suddenly laughs warmly, and he raises a brow in her direction, “My favourite? There’s no such thing.” He turns towards her, body pivoted closer once more, “Hm. But I am overdue an under plate inspection in Sector 7. It’s no Loveless Avenue, but it’s one hell of a view. And there’s plenty of room to roam uninterrupted.” He holds out his hand in offer, “What do you say, Isrieal? Fancy breaking free of those cages for a wee while?”

#ofgeneticperfection #gee Reeve #you really know how to treat a girl right #also #fffff #stop making yourself so goddamn attractive to him #he likes nothing more than fixing a problem #and beautiful terrible things #I've been sitting on that cities musings for a while now #you just had to serve that up on a platter too~ didn't you~ #;)

[fc5holidayexchange]

FAR CRY 5 HOLIDAY EXCHANGE 2019 FIC

Quiet Night

Characters: Elisha Abasi/Ruelle Michl (OC Judge/OC Captain), mentions of Jacob Seed

@jacobsknifeplay

My gift for jacobsknifeplay! What a fantastic URL by the way. Hope I did your girls justice because I love them. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Tags: OCxOC, cuddling, fluff

Elisha dipped the cloth into the cleaning solution briefly before returning to scrubbing at the blood on the mask she wore. The grooves and dents on the mask caused by combat and Joseph’s less-than-professional woodwork in creating it meant that it would inevitably stain the wood even worse than it already had, but Elisha had already come to terms with this. The blood on the mask wasn’t really something she cared about, anyway; she cleaned it out of habit more than anything.

Before the Collapse, she used to wear blood - either hers or someone else’s - like a sort of warpaint; a mark of victory. To be more concise, she did so during her time as Jacob Seed’s… “soldier.” She didn’t quite know what she was to him. “Captive,” perhaps, but she couldn’t deny the rush of going through the trials and hearing the echo of praises from the veteran in her hazy state of mind. It took a long, long time (and what was pretty close to the end of the world) to break that mindset. Still, it didn’t stop her mind from wandering there every now and again. The gleam lurking in those cold blue eyes as he looked her bloodied form over, seeing her panting from the previous trials. The knife sat in the sheath on his thigh, and Elisha had seen him absentmindedly spinning it around his fingers as he strolled between the cages.

Elisha gripped the cloth a bit too tightly as she heard the door open. She immediately untensed as it opened all the way to reveal Ruelle, her blonde hair a bit disheveled and clothing looking just a bit more worn than usual. 

“Ran into some trouble?” Elisha asked casually, going back to her cleaning.

“Nothing Timber and I couldn’t handle,” the captain replied, walking over to the couch and flopping down onto it. “But it did take a bit out of me.”

“I imagine so. You could’ve taken me with you, you know.”

“Yeah, I know. But I figured I should give you a bit of a break from all the fighting. You know, a day off.”

“Mmhmm. Well, I’m not going to lie to you, Rue, I would’ve preferred to be out doing something. It’s been really quiet around here today.”

“So, boring?”

“Very.”

The two smiled amongst themselves. Lighter moments weren’t incredibly common - not in Hope County - but they were appreciated nonetheless. A comfortable silence settled in the room as Elisha continued her task and Ruelle made herself cozy on the furniture. After several minutes, it was broken.

“So, what were you thinking about before I came in?” Ruelle asked. It was an innocuous question, but the answer Elisha had was not. She considered whether she should tell the truth or dodge the question altogether.

“Who said I was thinking about something?”

“C’mon, I noticed that little jump you did. I caught you off-guard at the very least. And considering you were just polishing your mask and not doing something inappropriate, I assume you were thinking. And probably about something pretty big, since it’s not like you to zone out.”

Elisha laughed a little in response. “Maybe I was thinking a little bit.”

“Just a little?”

“Alright, maybe more than a little.”

When there was no elaboration, Ruelle sat back up and looked over to Elisha, who was hanging her mask up to grab the next time she left on a mission, or just in general. 

“Mind indulging me?” the captain asked. 

Elisha returned the glance, amber eyes meeting green for a moment. She saw concern in Ruelle’s eyes, and she broke eye contact. 

“I mean, you don’t have to. I just thought, I don’t know, if it might help…” Ruelle added.

“Uh, yeah, just… thinking about the guy again. The one who listened to The Platters.” A quiet "oh” fell from Ruelle’s lips, and suddenly, the air felt a bit heavier.

“My bad. I didn’t mean to pry or anything. I was just… worried.”

“No, I know. I chose to share that, Rue. Besides, I bet you’d worry yourself sick if I let you.” Elisha noticed the slight pout on the captain’s features at the light teasing. “It’s nothing bad, I promise. More nostalgic than anything, really.” The blonde tilted her head to the side curiously.

“Nostalgic? What?” She furrowed her brows, trying to figure out what on earth Elisha could be nostalgic about. From what she had been told, this guy had basically tortured Elisha until - she didn’t want to think about it anymore.

“He didn’t say much outside of these sort of… lectures of his. And he was real good at twirling a knife around.” 

The thought that these were weird things for Elisha to be commenting on crossed Ruelle’s mind, but the thought of saying so out loud did not. 

“Never actually saw him use it, though,“ Elisha continues, "besides just… playing with it. He was a stoic army type, real gruff.”

“That song you keep humming sounds… I dunno. Kinda slow and sweet? Or sad, maybe? I just didn’t really think that it seemed like the type of song someone like that would listen to.”

“You’re telling me.”

Ruelle knew that there were plenty of pieces of the puzzle she was missing about this guy, about Elisha’s past. But she knew that the judge would tell her on her own terms, in her own time. But for now, this was more than she had expected to hear; after all, Elisha held her past close to her chest, all too willing to keep it buried. 

“Thank you for sharing. I know you’d rather… not.”

“If you keep making a big deal about it, I’ll be sure not to do so again,” Elisha threatened, mostly in jest. “Are you gonna sleep in those clothes or are you going to change into something more comfortable?”

Ruelle flashed a sly smirk in her companion’s direction. “If you wanted me to take off my clothes, you could just ask, you know.” Ruelle saw Elisha roll her eyes at the flirt, but the smile on the brunette’s lips didn’t escape Ruelle’s notice either. “But you do have a point.” Still, she didn’t stand from the couch, even as the seconds turned into a full minute. She noticed the arched eyebrow directed at her. “But these clothes are already warm and it’s so cooold…” she jokingly whined.

“Captain.”

Ruelle threw her head back in exaggerated faux exasperation. “Ugh, fine.” 

She pushed herself off of the couch and made her way to her wardrobe, shrugging off her jacket as she walked to the other room. Elisha set about starting a fire in the fireplace in order to keep the Montana chill out as Ruelle changed into something fit for sleeping and returned to the main room. Ruelle sank back down onto the couch as Elisha ignited the wood, watching the flame struggle for a moment before finally roaring to life. 

“Alright, then, it’s your turn,” Ruelle said. “I know sleeping in that much clothing can’t be that great. You’d overheat in the night.”

“Oh, please. You know how cold Montana is at this point. I wouldn’t overheat, even with all of this on.” Elisha grinned at Ruelle. “And what was it you just said? ‘You could just ask’?”

Ruelle laughed as she responded, “Touché.”

A few minutes later, Elisha returned; taking a seat next to Ruelle on the couch and watching the flames dance in the firebox as the wood crackled and blackened. The two of them simply sat, enjoying each other’s presence and feeling the warmth of the fireplace filling up the main room. At some point, Elisha leaned over and rested her head on Ruelle’s shoulder. The blonde returned the gesture in kind; gently laying her cheek to rest against the top of Elisha’s head and bringing up a hand to run through Elisha’s hair gently, softly.

“Hey, Eli?” Ruelle asked. No response. Rather than repeat herself, Ruelle carefully lifted her head and leaned forward a little bit to get a look at Elisha’s face. Her eyes were closed, and her chest was rising and falling slowly, rhythmically. Ruelle smiled softly, seeing how… at ease Elisha looked. She hid her face beneath the crudely carved mask so often, like a sort of safety blanket, but Ruelle was one of the few people in the dystopic Hope County that had what she considered the pleasure of seeing Elisha without her mask.

Ruelle herself was pretty tired as well, having been out and about most of the day, getting shot at and fighting back. She was a bit surprised that Elisha had managed to fall asleep before she did, but she didn’t mind it;  not when she got to see how relaxed her judge was.

However, she knew if they fell asleep like this for too long, Elisha’s neck would be hurting when she woke up. Ruelle figured she should probably try and fix that.

She shifted a bit, just enough to gently disturb the position Elisha was in. Elisha shifted, and Ruelle ventured another call of Elisha’s name. Elisha slowly opened her eyes, blinking a few times as the room came into focus. 

“How long was I out?” she asked sleepily, sitting back up and rubbing her eyes.

“Not too long,” Ruelle answered. “C’mon, let’s actually head to bed.” Elisha nodded and stood slowly, stretching her arms above her head for a moment before dragging her feet towards the bedroom, Ruelle in tow.

Elisha slid beneath the covers, and Ruelle joined her, pulling the blankets up to their necks. Elisha scooted closer to the captain, fitting herself against the other woman, snuggling in and putting her arms around Ruelle. Ruelle smiled and pulled Elisha close.

The cold wouldn’t prove to be a problem as the two of them drifted off, safe and comfortable in each other’s arms.

Elisha dipped the cloth into the cleaning solution briefly before returning to scrubbing at the blood on the mask she wore. The grooves and dents on the mask caused by combat and Joseph’s less-than-professional woodwork in creating it meant that it would inevitably stain the wood even worse than it already had, but Elisha had already come to terms with this. The blood on the mask wasn’t really something she cared about, anyway; she cleaned it out of habit more than anything.

Before the Collapse, she used to wear blood - either hers or someone else’s - like a sort of warpaint; a mark of victory. To be more concise, she did so during her time as Jacob Seed’s… “soldier.” She didn’t quite know what she was to him. “Captive,” perhaps, but she couldn’t deny the rush of going through the trials and hearing the echo of praises from the veteran in her hazy state of mind. It took a long, long time (and what was pretty close to the end of the world) to break that mindset. Still, it didn’t stop her mind from wandering there every now and again. The gleam lurking in those cold blue eyes as he looked her bloodied form over, seeing her panting from the previous trials. The knife sat in the sheath on his thigh, and Elisha had seen him absentmindedly spinning it around his fingers as he strolled between the cages.

Elisha gripped the cloth a bit too tightly as she heard the door open. She immediately untensed as it opened all the way to reveal Ruelle, her blonde hair a bit disheveled and clothing looking just a bit more worn than usual. 

“Ran into some trouble?” Elisha asked casually, going back to her cleaning.

“Nothing Timber and I couldn’t handle,” the captain replied, walking over to the couch and flopping down onto it. “But it did take a bit out of me.”

“I imagine so. You could’ve taken me with you, you know.”

“Yeah, I know. But I figured I should give you a bit of a break from all the fighting. You know, a day off.”

“Mmhmm. Well, I’m not going to lie to you, Rue, I would’ve preferred to be out doing something. It’s been really quiet around here today.”

“So, boring?”

“Very.”

The two smiled amongst themselves. Lighter moments weren’t incredibly common - not in Hope County - but they were appreciated nonetheless. A comfortable silence settled in the room as Elisha continued her task and Ruelle made herself cozy on the furniture. After several minutes, it was broken.

“So, what were you thinking about before I came in?” Ruelle asked. It was an innocuous question, but the answer Elisha had was not. She considered whether she should tell the truth or dodge the question altogether.

“Who said I was thinking about something?”

“C’mon, I noticed that little jump you did. I caught you off-guard at the very least. And considering you were just polishing your mask and not doing something inappropriate, I assume you were thinking. And probably about something pretty big, since it’s not like you to zone out.”

Elisha laughed a little in response. “Maybe I was thinking a little bit.”

“Just a little?”

“Alright, maybe more than a little.”

When there was no elaboration, Ruelle sat back up and looked over to Elisha, who was hanging her mask up to grab the next time she left on a mission, or just in general. 

“Mind indulging me?” the captain asked. 

Elisha returned the glance, amber eyes meeting green for a moment. She saw concern in Ruelle’s eyes, and she broke eye contact. 

"I mean, you don’t have to. I just thought, I don’t know, if it might help…” Ruelle added.

“Uh, yeah, just… thinking about the guy again. The one who listened to The Platters.” A quiet "oh” fell from Ruelle’s lips, and suddenly, the air felt a bit heavier.

“My bad. I didn’t mean to pry or anything. I was just… worried.”

“No, I know. I chose to share that, Rue. Besides, I bet you’d worry yourself sick if I let you.” Elisha noticed the slight pout on the captain’s features at the light teasing. “It’s nothing bad, I promise. More nostalgic than anything, really.” The blonde tilted her head to the side curiously.

“Nostalgic? What?” She furrowed her brows, trying to figure out what on earth Elisha could be nostalgic about. From what she had been told, this guy had basically tortured Elisha until - she didn’t want to think about it anymore.

“He didn’t say much outside of these sort of… lectures of his. And he was real good at twirling a knife around.” 

The thought that these were weird things for Elisha to be commenting on crossed Ruelle’s mind, but the thought of saying so out loud did not. 

“Never actually saw him use it, though,“ Elisha continues, "besides just… playing with it. He was a stoic army type, real gruff.”

“That song you keep humming sounds… I dunno. Kinda slow and sweet? Or sad, maybe? I just didn’t really think that it seemed like the type of song someone like that would listen to.”

“You’re telling me.”

Ruelle knew that there were plenty of pieces of the puzzle she was missing about this guy, about Elisha’s past. But she knew that the judge would tell her on her own terms, in her own time. But for now, this was more than she had expected to hear; after all, Elisha held her past close to her chest, all too willing to keep it buried. 

“Thank you for sharing. I know you’d rather… not.”

“If you keep making a big deal about it, I’ll be sure not to do so again,” Elisha threatened, mostly in jest. “Are you gonna sleep in those clothes or are you going to change into something more comfortable?”

Ruelle flashed a sly smirk in her companion’s direction. “If you wanted me to take off my clothes, you could just ask, you know.” Ruelle saw Elisha roll her eyes at the flirt, but the smile on the brunette’s lips didn’t escape Ruelle’s notice either. “But you do have a point.” Still, she didn’t stand from the couch, even as the seconds turned into a full minute. She noticed the arched eyebrow directed at her. “But these clothes are already warm and it’s so cooold…” she jokingly whined.

“Captain.”

Ruelle threw her head back in exaggerated faux exasperation. “Ugh, fine.” 

She pushed herself off of the couch and made her way to her wardrobe, shrugging off her jacket as she walked to the other room. Elisha set about starting a fire in the fireplace in order to keep the Montana chill out as Ruelle changed into something fit for sleeping and returned to the main room. Ruelle sank back down onto the couch as Elisha ignited the wood, watching the flame struggle for a moment before finally roaring to life. 

“Alright, then, it’s your turn,” Ruelle said. “I know sleeping in that much clothing can’t be that great. You’d overheat in the night.”

“Oh, please. You know how cold Montana is at this point. I wouldn’t overheat, even with all of this on.” Elisha grinned at Ruelle. “And what was it you just said? ‘You could just ask’?”

Ruelle laughed as she responded, “Touché.”

A few minutes later, Elisha returned; taking a seat next to Ruelle on the couch and watching the flames dance in the firebox as the wood crackled and blackened. The two of them simply sat, enjoying each other’s presence and feeling the warmth of the fireplace filling up the main room. At some point, Elisha leaned over and rested her head on Ruelle’s shoulder. The blonde returned the gesture in kind; gently laying her cheek to rest against the top of Elisha’s head and bringing up a hand to run through Elisha’s hair gently, softly.

“Hey, Eli?” Ruelle asked. No response. Rather than repeat herself, Ruelle carefully lifted her head and leaned forward a little bit to get a look at Elisha’s face. Her eyes were closed, and her chest was rising and falling slowly, rhythmically. Ruelle smiled softly, seeing how… at ease Elisha looked. She hid her face beneath the crudely carved mask so often, like a sort of safety blanket, but Ruelle was one of the few people in the dystopic Hope County that had what she considered the pleasure of seeing Elisha without her mask.

Ruelle herself was pretty tired as well, having been out and about most of the day, getting shot at and fighting back. She was a bit surprised that Elisha had managed to fall asleep before she did, but she didn’t mind it;  not when she got to see how relaxed her judge was.

However, she knew if they fell asleep like this for too long, Elisha’s neck would be hurting when she woke up. Ruelle figured she should probably try and fix that.

She shifted a bit, just enough to gently disturb the position Elisha was in. Elisha shifted, and Ruelle ventured another call of Elisha’s name. Elisha slowly opened her eyes, blinking a few times as the room came into focus. 

“How long was I out?” she asked sleepily, sitting back up and rubbing her eyes.

“Not too long,” Ruelle answered. “C’mon, let’s actually head to bed.” Elisha nodded and stood slowly, stretching her arms above her head for a moment before dragging her feet towards the bedroom, Ruelle in tow.

Elisha slid beneath the covers, and Ruelle joined her, pulling the blankets up to their necks. Elisha scooted closer to the captain, fitting herself against the other woman, snuggling in and putting her arms around Ruelle. Ruelle smiled and pulled Elisha close.

The cold wouldn’t prove to be a problem as the two of them drifted off, safe and comfortable in each other’s arms.

#oc/oc #captain oc #deputy oc #cuddling #fluff #gift: fic #fc5holidayexchange #jacobsknifeplay #submission

[shewantedtobeasecretgirl]

9. My Sharon…ah a.k.a. porn star alteregos, the other Stone and a dangerous ginger (Part Two)

I peek in our dressing room to check if somebody else’s already in there. No one. Thank goodness. I sneak in, not that I’m being followed by anyone… but somehow the events happening around us have made me develop this reflex, as if sneaking could save me from being spotted, recognized, approached, touched all the time… I crouch down on the ground in the corner and lean my head against the wall. I mean… I don’t hate people, I like meeting new people, exchanging opinions about any topic I’m interested in but I also want to keep it under control. It is me who decides whether I want to talk to someone or not… or it was me. Before this whole thing, being rude had no consequences, not that I was rude that often… But I want to be rude more and more often and funnily, I have less and less right to do it. Right… it’s not the perfect word to describe it… I feel like… I don’t know, being… pressured. But it’s not Kelly, it’s not the management, nor is it the press, I don’t even give a fuck about press, really… It’s me. I put myself under pressure, I force myself to be kind and polite to everyone… just because I feel trapped, I can’t be a total asshole… I mean, we are here because of the kids so who am I to refuse them when they want to say a few words to me? Also these staff members everywhere we go… even if I hate being served and fussed around, they’re only doing their job. If I said out loud everything I think in these situations, I would be like those stuck-up guests at the hotel I worked at or the rich folks who sometimes stopped at the gas station…

After a few minutes of contemplation I suddenly notice it. Or not it… It’s… nothing. Silence. Despite the turmoil on the set of the show, there’s complete silence here, the insulation must absorb all the outside noises. Gosh, I miss silence so much. Dictionaries usually define silence as the absence of sound… but I feel right the opposite, sound is the absence of silence… I mean, we’re only a tiny corner of the universe, the word “sound” doesn’t even make any sense anywhere else at all … how could anyone think that silence isn’t the basic state? Okay, now I’m contradicting myself again, however much I love and need silence, I couldn’t live without music and the sound of waves. I’m just not used to not being able to be alone whenever I want to. I don’t miss any of my former shitty jobs but I must admit I had plenty of time for writing or just… thinking. Now? I’m happy if I can hear my own thoughts at all.

I glance at a roll of duct tape on the chair in front of me; I grab it and start rolling it back and forth under my palm. We’re playing at the SNL… it’s weird. I used to watch this show or Letterman lying on the moldy, dusty couch in the concierge room of the hotel. I could still feel the smell of cigarette fume, my heritage from my ancestor, Hank. And now I’m here. I wonder if there’s a guy somewhere lying on a moldy, dusty couch, watching me… and if there is, does he like what I’m doing? Would I like what I’m doing on the screen if one part of me could still be lying on that couch?

Gosh, I’m sweating and stinking… I start rummaging in my small suitcase, I know I brought a spare shirt… there it is, the plain brown one. I remember I was wearing the same one on the set of our unplugged show, when I wrote a message on my arms during Porch… uhm… we’re playing Porch tonight too… what if…? Why not? Maybe I can use this farfetched TV appearance for something reasonable…

“Jesus!” we both exclaim as our backs collide. I was immersed in my DIY work so much that I didn’t even notice her entering the room and she approached me… walking backwards??? I should have known, she’s an advanced sneaker too. Based on the short time she’s spent with us I realized, we have more in common than she would think… we haven’t talked that much, but that’s right the point… she obviously needs to be alone from time to time and…

“Sorry, I didn’t… I didn’t know somebody’s in here…” Bingo. “I mean, I thought… I was…”

“Hey, you’re a crew member of Pearl Jam. You’re at the right place…” I send a smile at her and point at the sheet with our band’s name on the door.

“I know… but if you want to be alone I can leave…” she points with her thumb behind her back; her expression is still embarrassed and apologetic at the same time.

“Hey, I’m pretty sure you’re one of the very few people with whom I can be completely by myself, okay?” I raise my hands defensively and she uses the occasion to catch a glimpse of the dressing table behind me.

“Are you duct-taping your shirt? I have a small sewing purse for emergency cases, I can fix it for you if you’re not familiar with…”

“Uhm…” I step aside so that she can see the result of my work. I can literally hear the creak of the cogwheels in her head as she’s examining the redecorated piece of clothing.

“A coat hanger?” A severe furrow is developing and deepening between her eyebrows, gosh, I didn’t think human face muscles were able to that, her forehead should have already caved in… “Pro Choice?” The muscles finally relax, which is a relax for me too since I started feeling physical pain due to her look.

“Correct answer. Do you pick the toaster or the hairdryer? Or you go on for the jackpot?” I joke but I glance something dark in her eyes and the eyebrows begin to move suspiciously again. “Uhm… everything okay…?” I utter quickly to prevent her head from exploding into tiny pieces.

“Yes… Actually I don’t know them that well…are they that organization that supports women’s right for… abortion?” Her eyes are avoiding mines as she jabbers in a thin voice and somehow my sneakers seem more and more interesting to me…

“Almost… but they don’t support… ugh, abortion, they are just convinced that every woman has right to choose… and be supported whatever her decision is…” I explain to my shoes and decide to crouch down again; I can see from the corner of my eye she’s doing the same.

“It sounds nice but… it’s just such a hard thing… I mean is it a real option, to decide about someone’s existence? Not that I’m a good Christian and of course there are cases when it’s obvious you can’t keep a baby… but there are lot of young girls who don’t even know anything about safe sex or the ways of birth control… the right for choice begins at sexual education…” Her index fingers slowly begin to scratch the skin on her thumbs.

“Exactly… and Pro Choice runs programs about sexual consciousness, birth control, they support prevention of venereal diseases…” I embrace my knees but can’t take my eyes off those fingers that dig deeper and deeper in each other.

“But there are women whose situation is not as desperate as…”

“…as what?”

“I don’t know… it’s just difficult to…”

“Here you are!” Beth’s impatient shout makes start both of us and Judy’s deep, resigning sigh plants a thought in my brain. Was it Beth from whom she was hiding? “What is difficult?” she inquires curiously as she joins us on the ground.

“We are just talking about… Pro Choice and…”

“…and difficult decisions.” I finish the sentence for her; the index fingers switch to a higher speed, Jesus, she won’t stop until they reach the bones…

“I was just thinking… that apart from radical situations, it is pretty hard to decide between going on with your life the same way as before and… letting someone else going on with their life… at all…”

“But no one can say to a woman what to do with her body! A woman is not a fuckin’ hatchery who…”

“Hey, back off, my amazon, there’s no need to tear her to pieces, she’s not a Republican.” I throw my arm around my girlfriend’s neck and plant a kiss on her temple. “Aren’t you…?” I mouth silently to her over Beth’s head, since I realize in the meantime we’ve never discussed each other’s political preferences. She answers with a barely perceptible shake of her head and a lopsided smile.

“I’m just trying to say that… this is the toughest decision a woman can ever make… I knew a Japanese girl at Juilliard… a flutist… she was talented, I mean, really gifted, according to our professors, she was determined to become one of the greatest solo musicians in the world. She dated a percussionist guy, they broke up not much before her graduation… and rumors started spreading about them… her… We didn’t see her for weeks, she completely disappeared and then she showed up again… and I felt something was wrong… somehow her face… her face was… different. And I immediately knew the rumors were true. And she made her decision. She chose career… I don’t know if anyone was with her during those weeks, her family lived in Japan, she was sort of a reserved, shy girl so all her friends came from the bunch of her boyfriend…”

“And that’s exactly why all women deserve to be supported in this difficult phase of their life, the last thing they need is being labeled as “murderers”. Beth cuts her off in a softer voice.

“Look, I don’t know what you were thinking about this whole thing like eight or ten years ago… Now, you’re a young women with a degree, you have perspectives but… did you think the same when you were a teenager? Is it maybe typical that people live their life with the person with whom they had sex as teens? Because that’s often what’s expected from them at an unwanted pregnancy… and what’d be the result? Three or more potentially unhappy people who live someone else’s life in a cage built from hypocrisy and conformism, wrapped in religious principles with a nice ribbon on the top…” I involuntarily raise my voice, and she immediately notices the difference.

“Oh come on, how do you know that well how it might feel?” she rolls her eyes in disbelief.

“Actually, he knows it pretty well…”

“Wait… what? I didn’t know… think… that you… sorry.”

“It’s an old story… Ten years old. That’s the age my child would have been. And I would not be here… I wouldn’t be in this band or traveling. It was one of the hardest phases of my life and I don’t know how I’ll feel about it when I’ll have a child in the future. And I can only imagine how a woman might feel in a same situation, it’s happening to her body and if she doesn’t want it to happen, she must be escorted through trenches, which only adds to her trauma. This is not a game. This is not a religious pep rally. And those people who want to decide about her fate, politicians and priests are all…”

“Men.” Beth ends my sentence with a bitter shrug.

“If it was a man’s body and it was his destiny, there would be no issue. Not in today’s male dominated society.”

“Wow… I mean… I didn’t think this conversation would lead that far… I mean… I’m still trying to process what you’ve just told to me… But all this crazy, public fights about life of women or even girls reinforce me in thinking they should be able to prevent this… by education, by being supported and confirmed that it’s legit to say “no” and this should be taught for the male side of society too, when it’s not them who pays the price for everything…”

“You’re right. Many parents still think it’s a taboo and most asshole adults think if they tell the story about bees and flowers and the stork, they’ve done everything.” Beth agrees annoyed.

“Ed… what if… I mean, since you’re here, you could expand this action with other features… like… I’d appreciate if you demonstrated the correct application of condom using a banana…”

We all start giggling at Judy’s idea but she suddenly freezes as the door opens. The newcomer doesn’t show any sign of having heard anything from our conversation apart from raising one eyebrow as he’s heading to his guitar case.

“Ahaha… I don’t think anyone else would appreciate it… but maybe we could write a song about contraception, safe sex, sexual abuse, all these stuff… hey, Stoney, do you have a spare riff for the cause?” I joke but I immediately regret it seeing the journey of Judy’s facial skin from the whitest shade of pale to burgundy, accompanied by an effortless noise between a sigh and a scream. Jesus, that’s how I’ve always imagined dying people’s last breath… Okay, I know they aren’t best buddies but… that’s interesting…

Stone turns back to scan our faces for a few seconds before answering my question and as I notice that typical smug grin playing around his lips, I’m already sure that Judy’s embarrassment didn’t escape his notice either.

“Now that you’re saying, there’s one particular chord combination… every time I play it I can’t help hearing the words “legally authorized ejaculation” in my head, it’s strange, isn’t it?”

“Ew, Stone!” Beth throws the roll of duct tape towards him but he manages to lean away and turns back to his guitar case to go on with the pointless rummaging.

“But you could write a censored version by changing “ejaculation” to “evacuation” in case it hurts someone’s moral sense…” he mumbles squinting at Judy who jumps to her feet, dusts her dress off and takes a big breath. No, please, no, I don’t want to wipe blood from the floor…

“I… I have to go… I promised to Scully to check the… thing…” she stutters and leaves the room frantically.

For a fragment of a second I see a satisfied smirk on the face of our guitarist but he rearranges it quickly into a pretended concern by the time he takes place on the chair opposite us.

“Did I say something wrong?”

***

“Hallo?”

„Hi babe!”

„Who’s that? I’ve got no time to mess around, I’m waiting for the call of my hot rock star boyfriend…” the smoky voice starts driving me crazy. Okay, picking up girls has never been the No. 1 reason for playing music to me but when a girl like Amber is cooing with you on the phone, you give thanks for positive externalities of rock industry…

“You should dump that jerk, cock-rock and teasing are out of fashion… plus, it’s kind of embarrassing if your guy uses more hair spray than you.” I play on.

“What, are you saying teasing is lame? Interesting, guys still seem to like it. But I can give it up anytime…”

“Don’t. Ever. Stop. Teasing.”

“And actually, current female trends don’t really focus on hair spray.” Ugh, I think I’ve trapped myself, I’m not prepared for a lecture about “fashion suicides”, Amber’s favorite topic about poor clothing, makeup and hairstyle choices. Luckily, I can already play guitar well enough not to care about my look… and I’ve also managed to hide the exhibits of my Johnny Thunders phase from her.

“Sssooo… did you watch your hot rock star boyfriend on TV?”

“Uhm, I wasn’t at home last night, you know I had that invitation to that fashion show, it also included the after party.”

What? “That” invitation? “That” after party? I should do something with these blackouts during our phone calls, they’re awkward enough even when talking face to face but then I have excuse since she’s the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever dated. Why the fuck can’t I remember at least the half of what she said? I’m such a jerk, I should make notes and go through them again before calling her. Like at the beginning of episodes of soap operas, “last week in Amber & Stone…”

“… so I had to go because if I’d canceled it, I would have lost all my chances to sign to his company, you know how much I hate working for Elaine…” Fuck, note No. 1: stop talking to yourself while being on the line with someone else. His company? I remember listening to her gushing about a young fashion designer who founded a company lately in Seattle and was recruiting young designers. Congrats, Gossard, you’re officially unable to keep up with the news in your girlfriend’s life. “…and I think I made a good first impression on him because he asked me to drop by and show my works. But he offered the same to Tiffany too so I don’t know what to think…” Okay, I managed to miss the storyline again but I think I get the point.

“That’s great, you both could escape from slavery then.”

“Are you kidding me?” Due to her sudden outburst I almost drop the receiver. “That mean serpent tries to make my life a living hell every single day. I wouldn’t be willing to work with her ever again, no way…”

“Uhm… I thought…” What did I think exactly? Isn’t Tiffany her favorite coworker and confidante? Obviously, my memory or rather the lack of it tricked me again, now that she yelled at me, I can remember she’s her archenemy with whom she’s had a hard rivalry since she was hired. But what’s the name of her friend then? Shit, I can remember it was something similar… Ebony… no… Bethany… no… Brittany… no… Felony… that’s not even a name… ffffuu… Felicity!!! That’s it! “I thought you mentioned Felicity, the line is crackling, I can barely hear you.” I fib.

“Actually, Felicity neglects me nowadays, since she started dating her new boyfriend, she hasn’t given a shit about me… But she’s so blind, the guy is a douchebag, he…”

“Sorry, I still can’t hear anything…” I interrupt her talking louder for no reason. Okay, I have a reason. Asshole move, I know but I don’t feel like listening to stories about people I haven’t even met… “Can you hear me, Major Amber?”

“What’s this military bullshit, I can’t follow you, honey…” she tweets with sincere confusion.

“Get it… Can you hear me, Major Tom? David Bowie… Space Oddity…” I try to orientate her. Despite being familiar with all bars and concert venues of Seattle, the music-related jokes I tell her usually don’t get much credit. Any of my friends would understand it and response it with something similar and I know at least one person who would crack a joke about the major-minor duality but Amber’s not a musician, I have to accept the fact that her brain is wired in a different way than mine.

“Oh right. I probably can’t remember it since every time I hear the opening chords of it, I instantly fall asleep.”

“Nevermind…” I sigh. “So you haven’t even watched the TV performance of Hot Rock Star Boyfriend?” I jump back to the original topic of my call. I wish my voice didn’t sound that disappointed, I don’t like to harass anyone for feedback but I’m really curious about her opinion.

“Of course I watched it, I recorded it, what did you think?” she answers quickly and I slap myself mentally for assuming my girlfriend isn’t interested in what I’m doing.

“And…?”

“You were amazing, as always.” she says without hesitation, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“I don’t know… Ed’s voice is getting more and more tired… plus, at the opening riff of Porch he still ignores the rhythm I play, I mean, I only follow the pace he gives and still, in the moment I begin to play he always starts to accelerate… I’m always afraid that everything falls apart and…”

“Oh, come on… even if it happens like you said, no one dares argue with Dave, you can rely on him… so the chaos only lasts for seconds… But I’m pretty sure the majority of your audience doesn’t even notice it.”

“But I noticed it… Mike’s solo in Alive totally blew my mind but that fucked-up mix… I don’t know where the sound staff put their ears, maybe into their asses since it sounded as if he’d played from Seattle…” I huff on.

“Baby… do you think an average American family sitting in front of a shitty TV device, munching Kentucky chicken wings would hear that Mike wasn’t mixed in the most optimal way?”

“I heard it…” I grunt at her. “I mean… You’re right, most people can’t hear the difference and I’m a perfectionist, I know but I only try to lead this fuckin’ band… and if the band leader lowers his expectations, it’s already a dead case… I can’t pretend I’m totally satisfied with our performance. I can’t understand either why he insisted on playing his Les Paul in Porch… Les Pauls are perfect for hacks like me but Mike’s virtuosity deserves the clear sound of Strat and…”

“Again, if you think about average listeners… but you know what? Due to my Hot Rock Star Boyfriend I learned how to distinguish between a Les Paul and a Stratocaster… based on their look of course, my ears need more exercising but one thing I know: it’s impossible to decide between them. It’s like comparing Chanel No 5 with Givenchy’s L’Enterdit. Both are top perfumes. Armani or Saint-Laurent. Prada or Manolo Blahnik. Adidas or Nike. I could go on all night.” I know you could and I also know what I could do with you if we could finally spend a night together… You would be too busy to list fashion brands, that’s for sure.

“Stones or Beatles.” I throw in just to steer her back to our original topic, although I exactly know that all the people I hang out with can decide for one or another band and defend them until their last breath. But I really appreciate her attempt to find common dilemmas in our professions. Yes, she’s great and it is me who has too high expectations towards her. “But what I’m really concerned about is the incident that happened to Jeff.” I spit out the most embarrassing point of last night.

“What kind of incident? I don’t think the hat he was wearing was more hideous than usual…”

“She makes evil remarks about our bassist, that’s my girl!” I giggle, and to be honest, hearing her joking at Jeff’s expense is a balm to my soul. I’ve seen pictures of her exes and all of them rather resemble to him than to me. Tall, athletic types from whom you would assume they were the stars of high school or college football teams, dated the captain of the cheerleader group and were elected to king at their senior prom. Apart from the fact that Amber was thrown out from the cheerleader group since she had been caught smoking weed. “But joke aside, he accidentally tore out the cable of his bass while bouncing around at Porch… we watched the video record after the show and it was pretty clear that the bass part was missing. The staff promised to fix it by mixing in bass patterns from other parts of the song but I’m skeptical… tabloids are always looking for scandals, I don’t want to read headlines claiming Ed lip syncs and we only pretend to play…”

“Sweetie… you’re driving yourself into paranoia. I don’t want to repeat myself but I’m sure that it wasn’t as obvious as you think…”

“It was the most…”

“I couldn’t spot anything, but I must admit I couldn’t take my eyes off you… and I’m sure I wasn’t the only one…” she purrs and I feel weakness in my knees as I start involuntarily fantasizing about her whispering into my ears straddling on my lap… “You looked so good, I love when you’re wearing your hair in half ponytail… ” she lowers her voice and I desperately try to think about something disappointing to avoid awkward processes happening in my pants. She doesn’t even understand my jokes about music. She hasn’t seen my favorite movies. And however much I’m flattered, the only thing she got from our SNL performance was my look. Which is basically a huge compliment since she’s a fashion expert… And she’s hot and awesome in bed and… SHIT, this method doesn’t work at all, luckily I’m wearing tight denims… I need something different, something naturalistic, for example… I should try to imagine her sitting on the toilet or throwing up or… Jesus, I feel like a perv, this is disgusting…

“Stoney? Are you okay?”

“Ugh… Argh… I am, sure, why?”

“You’re groaning like a dying walrus… Speaking of animals, I almost forgot to mention the most important thing.”

“…that would be…?” I ask back and I realize happily that my breathing settled back to the normal pace and my circulatory system is also willing to serve my brain again.

“I’m done with that beast.” she announces in a cold voice. Ouch. I should have known that it wouldn’t work.

“You should give her one more chance, she’s the cutest kitten in the world, she’s just wary with new people…”

“Wary? That monster tries to kill me every single time I go to feed her. Plus, we’ve been dating for ten months; you can’t say anymore that I should wait until she accepts me. She just won’t do it and you know it too. She hates me.” she pouts and I know she’s right. Red, my one and a half year old female cat (with magnificent, soft, red fur after which I named her) isn’t an easy case. She acts strangely with my female friends… okay, only with certain female friends… okay, her behavior follows a pretty much consistent pattern so I should have known that Amber wouldn’t be an exception either but I wanted to give them a chance.

“Okay… if it’s that intense as you say…” I begin unwillingly.

“Intense? Intense??? My arm is full of fuckin’ scratches and last time she even bit me. What if I’ve caught rabies?”

“I think you’re overreacting, she received all the recommended vaccination, she’s not a stray cat who eats rats from dumpsters…”

“I don’t care, I’m done, find someone else who is willing to struggle with that furious fur ball. Ask your sisters or whatever.” she declares and I already know this tone of her, any further argumentation is totally unnecessary since it’d be like talking to a brick wall.

“Babe… you know too that my whole family is allergic to cat fur, it wasn’t a coincidence I asked you… plus, I trust you and you can get on well with anyone so…” I make a last attempt.

“With anyone, except her. You should ask your friends.” she goes on softer.

“My friends… those drunk, fuckin’ guys couldn’t even keep a cactus alive, let alone Red…”

“Krisha?”

“Krisha… maybe I can talk her into it…” Actually, I know I could convince her anytime but she’s always had my back, I didn’t want to take one more burden on her, things have become so fast and she’s drowning in work at Curtis Management. But it isn’t a bad idea at all, if my theory is correct, Red is harmless for her. “Okay, I’ll call her. And please, try not to poison her until then.” I give in finally.

“You know I’m not a jealous type, I would never poison Krisha.”

“Hey, you could be jealous, a little bit at least… now that I’m a rock star…”

“A hot rock star…”

“I literally have to kick girls out of my room, they are queueing in the floor right now too…”

“Baby, I don’t want to make you sad but they are probably only waiting to get in the women’s restroom…”

“You couldn’t deny you’re my girlfriend.” I laugh at her retort at lean back on my bad. God, I wish she was here…

***

„We both say it out loud on the three, okay? One-two-three… Stones!” Mike shouts.

“Beatles!” yells Judy at the same time. I can hear every single word of them, I’m lying on my bunk bed pretending reading, while they are discussing the best bands of rock history at the small table of our tour bus. Beth suggested that I should leave some space for her so I don’t join them… But we’re on tour, it’s inevitable to be pretty often in the same room as her, right?

“You can’t be serious! Stones? STONES?” Judy exclaims indignantly. “Mr. Mick “I Have the Largest Mouth In the World” Jagger and Keith “I Would Even Snort The Ashes Of My Own Father” Richards?” I bite my lip not to burst out in laughter of the hilarious thought that actually makes sense since it’s about a drug lab on legs…

“Hey, I could ask the same… the cheesy mop tops who became wannabe hippies later?” Mike slaps back.

“I warn you I have several reasons in my argumentation, this is not the first time I’ve had to defend them, inexplicably, Effie opts for Stones too. BUT! Beatles are real humanists at least. Which is not the case at the band which couldn’t even find a proper band name without stealing someone else’s idea.”

“They didn’t steal it, I’m sure it was kind of a tribute…”

“Oh come on, Brian Jones couldn’t find out anything else during a phone call with a journalist. He glanced a Muddy Waters record on the floor and just read the title of it.” she cuts our lead guitarist off with disarming confidence. She’s pretty passionate when it’s about defending her opinion, I wonder if she’s also that passionate when…

“Early Beatles songs make me puke and the later ones are unlistenable nonsenses!”

“Nonsenses??? “Jumpin’ Jack Flash is a gas gas gas”; does that sound like something that means anything at all?”

“Oh yeah, because Ob-la-di, ob-la-da makes so much sense!” I’m shaking of repressed giggle, Judy and Mike should quarrel about musical topics more often, it’s like a free theater play.

“Okay, Mike, let’s calm down. Let’s talk like civilized, mature adults. I don’t like the Stones, but I appreciate them, truly. Rock music wouldn’t be the same without them. Even if I’m amazed how their bassist could help killing himself during the recording session of Sympathy for the Devil, making the bassist play the same line over and over again for like six and a half minutes is mean, it’s one of the evilest crimes that have been done to musicians since Ravel composed Bolero, like, I know percussionists who became alcoholics due to that piece but that’s not the point…”

“Excuse me Judy, how many times is “naah-naah-naah-nah-nah-nah-naaah” sung in Hey Jude?” Mike teases her with false innocence.

“…as I’ve said, I acknowledge their contribution to rock history but I can’t like them. I mean, how could I like a band that is a moral disaster?” Judy brings the debate to a philosophical level when I see Stone approaching between the beds.

“Hi guys… laudetur, sister…” he reacts to Judy’s rhetorical question and as I turn on my stomach and peak out from my book, I see her closing her eyes with a deep sigh for a few seconds before going on.

“They played a show only two days after the death of their guitarist! What kinds of people do something like this? Oh, wait, I know. Megalomaniac, greedy people who organized an own rock festival because they couldn’t accept that Woodstock became something huge and they weren’t there and who were too cheap to arrange things properly and thought it would be a great idea to hire a hippie-hater motorcycle gang as security personnel. Oh, of course, paying them in alcohol and drugs was also a part of this remarkable idea and we know the result. And when the tragedy happened, they just fled into their helicopter and left the scene. The greatest rock band of all times, sure.” I give up forcing myself to look at my book, her intense flailing and her various and unique grimaces demand all my attention.

“Okay, Judy. I didn’t want to do this. I swear. But you forced me and I warn you it’ll hurt. A lot.” Mike announces in a threatening voice.” Unlike Beatles… Stones’ members never encouraged the musical attempts of their tone-deaf, artist wives. Ha!” he adds victoriously, seeing the gasping, outraged girl.

“Touché!” Stone comments the result of the match leaning to the fridge with folded arms.

“Nobody asked you! What if you were able not to poke your nose into everything once in a lifetime?” Judy directs all her anger at our other guitarist.

“Hey, be gentler with him, his nose is so big that he doesn’t even have to poke it into anything, things just come and collide with it.” I peek out from my cover.

“Exactly, it arrives five minutes earlier to everywhere than me myself.” my target confirms snickering.

“We were hanging out so good without you… Mike and I were fighting peacefully, Jeff was reading…”

“Let me inform you about something, Pippi Longstocking: Jeff has read that book for three years and I haven’t seen him turning one single page in the last two years, I just can’t recall one single occasion…”

“Maybe because you can’t even recall what happened ten seconds ago…” she defends me fixing her braid with a nervous move and I only shrug with an amused and satisfied smile to Stone’s surprised glance at me. Did you think I asked her out only because I was bored?

“Actually, that’s exactly what I want to know. I opened the case of my acoustic guitar only to realize it stinks from cheap men’s deodorant! What the hell did you do to it after you’d borrowed it? Guitars don’t sweat…” Stone starts confessing the ­ who knows why – petrified Mike who jumps from the seat and makes a few nervous steps before he stays pinned between the beds, next to me.

“Mike? I’m waiting for your answer. What happened to my guitar?” Stone follows him with his gaze and turns towards us expecting an explanation. And at this point, I find myself in the middle of an incomprehensible charade game.

“What happened is…” Mike begins slowly, sending begging looks at Judy who is now standing behind Stone’s back with the same, terrified face. “While I played your guitar, I was… I was…”

Judy lifts her fist to her mouth a few times in quick succession and seeing Mike’s still clueless expression, she starts making exaggerated, chewing moves with her jaw.

“Eats?” Mike rather questions than claims. “…Eat…ing…Eating!!! That’s it, I was eating.”

“I see. And tell me, do denatured alcohol and LPG taste good?” Stone goes on leaning closer with a suggestive gaze of a cobra ready to strike.

“Ahahaha, that’s good, you’re always so funny, Stoney!” Mike lets out the worst fake laughter I’ve ever heard while Judy starts making swimming moves.

“I was swimming too…” Mike makes an attempt to develop the story but Judy shakes her head and sends the code of eating again.

“No, he was eating…” I find myself in the scene due to unknown circumstances, gluing my eyes at Judy who’s now waving with her hands next to her ears…gills! Noticing the direction of my stare, Stone turns back lightning fast but before he could realize what’s happening, I yell my guess forcing him to look at us again. “FISH!”

“That’s exactly what I was gonna say too, you don’t have to shout, Jeff.” Mike remarks with sudden tranquility. “I was swimming in happiness since I was eating fish.”

“Stinky fish.” I point out at Judy’s signal who’s picking her wrinkled nose between her thumb and index finger.

“Every sort of fish is stinky.” Stone furrows his eyebrows.

“But that was particularly stinky, I think it was already rotten.” I glance at Mike for help who seems to get my message.

“Oh yeah, it was disgusting, I almost puked of its smell.”

“So, you were glad to eat fish that was stinky and rotten and you almost threw up but you still ate it? You’re a sick animal, Michael.” Stone sums up.

“He spat it in the loo.” I make an attempt to make the story more credible and save what remained of the dignity of out guitar hero.

“But what does this grossness have to do with my guitar?”

“Mike just… didn’t want to give it back to you without doing anything against that terrible smell!” Judy blurts out, which finally explains the concept of her mime performance.

“He succeeded, he gave it back with another terrible smell.” Stone shakes his head. “He should have sprayed Jeff’s hats too… nevermind. Not that I believed this fairy tale… I don’t know what you did to my guitar, Mike, I don’t even want to, but next time you want to borrow it, I’m gonna cover all holes on it, I swear.” he mumbles and this time I can’t help chuckling since I must admit, Stone’s fears aren’t completely unfounded.

“If I was you, I wouldn’t laugh… you should rather make up a story about how we hired you from the live band of Milli Vanilli because something tells me you’ll receive a few curious questions from journalists…”

“Jesus, move on finally, it’s not as a big deal as you think! I talked to Effie and she hadn’t even notice it until I mentioned it to her. And she’s got good eyes and ears for it, she’s a black belt rock video analyzer.”

“The Camdens are satisfied, I’m flattered.” Stone pats himself on the shoulder sending a killer look.

“I’m not saying it was flawless. Sorry Mike, but Les Paul wasn’t the best choice… The sound crew of SNL didn’t take Brett’s advice so you sounded as if you had played in a plastic tunnel.”

“Yes, I felt something was…”

“Don’t even listen to her, Mike, she’s spent two weeks with us and she already thinks she’s an expert, unbelievable…” Stone defends Mike who reacts with surprised blinks to the unsolicited support.

“…and you had to fudge the opening riffs of Porch but it’s not your fault, Ed can’t feel the pace you give to him but I have a few ideas how to correct it…” Judy goes on enthusiastically.

“Not my fault? NOT MY FAULT??? Miss Can’t Be Wrong, you’re so gracious, I’m not even worthy of looking at you!” Stone fakes a theatrical cry, covering his eyes with his forearm.

“Stone, she’s right, we all know it. And you can mock her even from your deathbed but it won’t change the fact that unlike us, she’s a real musician.”

“Mike, don’t…” she cuts in flushing quietly but it’s too late.

“Sorry, I realized he was right. We should use your competences. I’ve already had a few ideas, how, I can’t wait for it.” Stone flashes a diabolical smile at her before he leaves, grabbing the guitar in question on the way.

“Holy crap, that was close…” Mike sighs as he collapses on his bunk bed.

“What exactly?” Judy turns to him for explanation with her hands on his hips.

“I thought you knew it… Mike, would you enlighten us?” I spread my hands.

“Ugh. Judy needed a guitar… But I couldn’t lend mine since one of the strings was broken… So I asked Stone claiming it was me who needed it… and I gave it further to her.” he nods towards the girl. “But she was concerned… you know, if Stone could find out she played it. And I thought it made sense, I didn’t want to get her in trouble… she said he was like a deerhound and… it gave me an idea… I mean, I thought dogs can be deceived by confusing their smell… and…”

“Oh, Jesus…” Judy slowly sinks next to Mike, her face is buried in her palms.

“… and I thought it could work with him too.”

I don’t even try to hide my smile that turns quickly into snickering… and it proves to be contagious since Judy lets out a few short giggles too and in a few seconds, we’re both whining of laughter.

“Hey, in that moment, it seemed to be a good idea!” says Mike defensively. “Next time I’m going to rub his guitar with stinky French cheese.” he smiles with us finally.

“But why didn’t you ask me?” I ask the obvious question.

“Well I…”

“I didn’t know you have an acoustic guitar here…” Judy answers interrupting Mike but I’d swear she’s already seen me playing it… or not?

“And I… I… I… just wanted to make Stone stop playing those same three chords with whom he’s tortured us for days.”

“Actually, I like it…” Judy remarks smiling involuntarily. I like how her face lights up every time someone comes up with anything related to music.

“And why did you need it?” I keep asking, not missing the occasion to snoop around her a bit.

“I just wanted to… improve my guitar skills, that’s all.”

“One more reason to ask me.”

“But you’re a bassist.” she frowns puzzled.

“Bass players are human beings too! And okay, when I tried to teach you how to play the bass, you ended up teaching me… but you can ask me anything. Anytime.” I stare into her eyes to make clear I mean it. So much for keeping my distance…

***

I should do something to my hair. I get bored with it every single year… I have it cut, I let it grow, I dye it… yes, an extreme color, that’s what I need. It’s not really about my look, I’m satisfied with it… or rather, I just don’t care about it at all. This whole hair thing is rather about my inner need for changes… I want something to happen… anything… I use my hair to express my current mood… and I need something wild now.

I lean my forehead against the cool surface of the mirror on the medicine cabinet; it feels good. I’ve been thinking the whole day… That conversation in the dressing room fucked me up… just like every occasion when he talks about his past. I’d known about the pregnancy, he told me the whole story many years ago… when we realized that the thing between us started turning into something serious, we shared our past with each other, including unpleasant memories… but still… the fact that your boyfriend could have been a dad and it is not you who’s the other party in the situation… even if we’ve haven’t felt ready yet to become parents… ugh, it’s like a punch in the stomach.

And that girl… I know he’s over her, it was ages ago but still… I shouldn’t feel like this about her, our relationship is stable, balanced, we’re equal partners, somehow Oceans expresses the depth of the feelings we have for each other perfectly … deep and unwavering… and yet, persistent, developing and endless, just like waves. But Black… it’s something different. It’s that kind of song that can’t be sung without the singer getting totally naked, Ed has to die a little bit in front of everyone every single time they perform it, otherwise it isn’t worth shit. And he relives that pain again and again… and I still can’t help feeling envious of her, the first real love of him, isn’t it stupid? Being envious of a memory, a painful memory, just because it’s so intense… how could I compete with that? Will I ever be able to make him feel that way? I mean, I don’t want to hurt him, ever but…

“Are you okay?” I start at his warm baritone as he enters the bathroom.

“I’m fine… I just can’t get used to going to bed so late every night.”

“You don’t have to attend every single show, you’ve heard me singing more than enough.” he cups my face in his hands. “You’ve still got your own life, we just happen to live in a tour bus and hotels for a few weeks.”

“But I want to…”

“We’re the same five sweaty and stinky guys bouncing on the stage but if that’s what you want…” he flashes a smile at me before softly kissing my forehead. That smile… that irresistible, infectious smile with all of its features… yes, everything began with that smile, you see it once and you can’t get it out of your head anymore. It’s too bad I’ve been scarcely able to get lost in it in these days…

“I like sweaty and stinky guys…” I mumble as I press my lips in the crook of his neck. It only takes seconds to get drunk with the scent of his freshly showered skin and I gently move on to his bare chest while my hands are wandering towards the hem of the towel around his waist…

“Yesterday, at the dressing room…” he reaches for the toothpaste and the toothbrush behind my back. I exhale against his chest acknowledging the lack of reaction and I also grab my toothbrush. I wait as he doses the toothpaste for both of us carefully squeezing the tube. I don’t feel like saying anything until he makes clear what he’s about to ask me, it’s terrifying how he can read my mind, why do we have to talk at all if he can find out everything for me? “… It felt like Judy was hiding from something… or someone…”

Oh, so it’s about that thing… I’m so naive, how could I think it’s about me… Yes, I wanted to finish that restroom talk because Judy’s answers didn’t seem to be convincing enough to me but of course, she finished the conversation by running away, as always. I put the toothbrush into my mouth since brushing the teeth is a perfect excuse for ignoring questions. Okay, he hasn’t asked anything yet but that’s typical of him… He drops hints, makes remarks being sure he knows what’s going on. And he’s mostly right and knows the answer before posing the question and that’s the most annoying in it.

“We should just let her find out what she wants.” he skips a few logic steps and draws the conclusion after spitting the foam in the sink. I keep brushing my teeth tenaciously and feel his amused gaze on me as he takes place on the edge of the bath tub opposite me. I wash my mouth, dry my hands and step towards the door but he pulls me back lacing his fingers gently between mines. He examines my face squinting up at me, still with that damn smile on his face. I roll my eyes since I catch myself involuntarily copying his expression and let him pulling me closer by my hips.

“First of all: it is not me who doesn’t let her find out what she wants, it’s your bassist who chases her like a hungry wolf, so it should be your job to tell him that he should cool himself down.” I poke him in the chest with my index finger at the keywords.

“But we’re guys and guys don’t talk about emotional stuff.” he grins at his own macho cliché joke.

“So I’m basically just doing the dirty work for you. Plus, if we waited for Judy to make a move, they’d still only eye with each other at your 80th birthday party.”

“And why would be that so bad? My birthday party has to be a decent event, no smooching and space cakes can only be served on china plates.” he smacks a playful peck on my lips.

“All I’ve done is just a little… promotion for the skater guy… just to keep her curiosity awake.” I stick to my opinion.

“And what if she’s not curious at all?”

“Bullshit. All that Karrie told me about her proves she’s totally lonely and needs a reliable partner in her life. And Jeff would be a perfect choice.”

“Wait-wait-wait, don’t begin to organize their wedding… What if Jeff’s not her type? Or what if she wants to practice her constitutional right for becoming a crazy old cat lady?”

“Well, Jeff doesn’t hate cats so…”

“Why did I think I could convince my stubborn woman?” he shakes his head accepting the defeat and grabs my backside patting it a few times before leaving me in the bathroom alone again.

When I sneak back in the room, it’s completely dark so I stay standing at the door for a few seconds until my eyes get used to the dark. As I slip in the bed, I can feel his leg occupying my place too… I’d bet he’s not sleeping, he’s playing the Starfish Game. Okay, boy, if you want to play, I’m in. I try to tear his leg from the bed but he flexes all his muscles so I lean my back to the wall and use my own legs to push his one away.

“Hey, I’m trying to sleep, why do you have to be so rude?” he mutters against the pillow.

“I don’t share my place with anyone, not even with you, don’t even think about it.” I crawl under the blanket still trying to keep his leg away. I turn on my other side and touch the wall with my foot; this time I prevent him from getting closer by creating a barricade with my back. He rolls over and throws his arm around me capturing me in the tightest squeeze. Although his not tall at all, his athletic upper body covers me as a human blanket and there’s no place I’d rather be… After a few minutes my shoulder starts feeling uncomfortable under the weight of the muscular surfer arm so I position myself opposite him and snuggle to his chest greedily inhaling him. He reacts immediately by pulling me as close as possible and his fingers gladly dig into my hair, gently playing with the strands.

“Hey… Eddie… I’m drowning…” I chuckle against his tee.

“I don’t care…” he tightens the embrace all the more. My hand takes it as a green light and slowly slips into his boxers seeking, teasing…

“Mhm… I’m too tired…” he gently pulls my hand out of his underwear and places it back on his hips. “In the morning…”

Great. In the morning. Sure.

#pearl jam #pearljam #pearl jam fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #eddie vedder #mike mccready #stone gossard #dave abbruzzese #jeff ament

[kusunogatari]

[ There’s Always a Mess ] [ @abyssaldespair​ ] [ Uchiha Obito, Suigin Ryū, Hatake Kakashi ] [ Vulgarity, blood ] [ Verse: Of Monsters and Men ]

He’s always the last to know about anything.

True, his role isn’t exactly high up on the corporate ladder, but he’s still involved in the most basic parts of this place. The fact that they keep things like this from him is irritating, to say the least. How’s he supposed to do his job if the core mechanics are kept from him?

A janitor has to know his workplace!

For a month, the aquarium is kept under the tightest security he’s ever seen - a new exhibit, being built fairly close to the entrance, has everyone hushed up. And Obito really has no idea what the fuss is about. Even if it’s some rare specimen, then...whoop de doo. It’s still just a fish. Or maybe a mammal. Whatever. The point is, despite being the head of the sanitation department, he isn’t being told what the hell is going on. Which, to him, seems irresponsible. He’s going to have to know how to keep up this new exhibit, after all!

Maybe the grandeur is a bit lost on him. This wasn’t exactly his dream career, after all. But a teenagehood of delinquency and a few small charges as a young man left a bit of a stain on his record, and...well, this is the best he could manage. And Obito is a stubborn guy. So all he could do was become a janitor? Then he was going to be the best damn janitor he could be! And lo and behold, a mere five years after getting his GED and landing this job, he leads his department. Sure, it isn’t glamorous...but he’s independent. What else could he ask for?

...besides maybe some kind of social life.

His best friend is a teacher, and they meet up every so often, but...Kakashi’s life is a stone’s throw from Obito’s now. Their circles have diverged.

And telling girls he’s a janitor at an aquarium hasn’t exactly landed him any second dates, either.

But that’s all besides the point. Because today is the day. The big reveal is tomorrow, and the staff are finally being briefed on the new exhibit. About damn time, in Obito’s opinion. He’s going to have to adjust everyone’s schedules to cover an entirely new exhibit on top of everything else, allocate supplies...ugh.

They go department by department to cover what each will need to know, and of course custodial is last. And...to Obito’s surprise, he’s the only one asked inside the board room. Great. They’re leaving the work of filling in everyone else to him, rather than doing it themselves.

Jerks.

Still, he doesn’t let his grouchiness show, heading in and taking a seat.

“All right, Obito,” the director begins, standing on the opposite side of the table, hands gripping the spine of a chair. “So we’re doing a bit of an...adjustment in your department for this new attraction.”

...oh no. What’s that supposed to mean? “Uh...all right.”

“You will be the only custodial staff - at least for groundwork - allowed into the exhibit. The actual tank crews are a separate unit of course, and they’ve already been briefed. But given your...history with this business, we’re entrusting it to you, and you alone.”

A dark brow perks in question. “I’m...glad you trust me, but...is it really so important?”

“Oh, we’ll get to that. But first -” the man hands over a new keycard, which Obito accepts “- your new security clearance for the exhibit.”

“...thanks.”

“And I’m sure you’ll be happy to hear you’ll be getting a raise, as well. Another quarter on the dollar!”

Okay, that...actually surprises him. “...thank you, sir.”

“Now…” The director smiles, and Obito knows that smile. It’s the smile of a man expecting to make a lot of money. The only question is...how? “Our latest exhibit is one of a species never before seen by mankind. Something that, until a few months ago, was thought to be little more than a legend.”

Obito just...awaits a reveal. What, like...a giant squid? Godzilla?

“We are the first aquarium in the world to have, on display...a living, breathing mermaid.”

Obito blinks. And...blinks again. “Wait, you’re...you’re serious?”

“Completely. Now, some places have put on shows with actresses pretending to be one, and it works for kids...but this is the real deal, Obito.” The grin remains firmly in place. “Now, unfortunately...I can’t let you in to see her quite yet, but you will! You’ll be working after hours only to get things all tidied up, and keep interference with the guests to an absolute minimum. The tank crews will come in before we open, so you won’t have to worry about them getting in your way, or vice versa. You’ll have from closing at eight until midnight to work on her area seven days a week, and then you’ll have another four hours during the day for three days in the rest of the aquarium as per usual. That way you’re still full time: none of your benefits will be impacted. Does that sound agreeable?”

...huh. For some reason it just...isn’t hitting him. Maybe because so far this is all just talk, and he hasn’t seen it yet. “...yes, sir.”

“Wonderful! Then all you’ll have to do tomorrow is be here for the after hours work: we’ll ease you into it. The rest of the schedule you can work out with your department. I can’t wait for you to meet her!”

Obito manages a brief, mostly-forced smile before standing, shaking the director’s hand, and...being excused to finish his shift. Looking down at his new keycard, he can’t help but...frown.

...a mermaid, huh? Well that’s...neat.

Glancing back to the door, he then just...carries on to the rest of his shift, doing so quietly as he’s lost in thought. At least he can sleep in tomorrow. He’s worked nights before, and honestly he sort of prefers it. And working alone will be nice. But still, something about this all just seems...well, odd. It’s like someone telling him that yes, a pig really did fly today, and they’re now displaying it at the local zoo.

Partly he just can’t believe it. And the rest of him, after a bit of thought, realizes that it...bothers him. Of course the first thing humans would do with something like this is make a spectacle out of it. What if the thing is intelligent? Sentient? It’d be like putting any other human being in a cage and gawking at it!

...well, maybe it’s just an animal. And maybe being somewhere with security is better than the poor thing being pulled apart and studied by some scientist somewhere.

He’ll just have to see tomorrow.

Either way, he heads back to his apartment after his shift, still partially off as the rest of his day passes. But eventually he manages to shove his thoughts aside enough to sleep.

...then he has another entire day to wait.

It’s a Saturday, and that means extra crowds even if they weren’t debuting a brand new exhibit. He can only imagine how things are going to explode once word gets out, especially online. Sitting and sullenly sipping his coffee, Obito wonders if there are any others, or if this is the only one. Surely there must be...they wouldn’t give the only specimen away like that. They’d want at least some behind closed doors...to be studied, like he thought yesterday.

It makes him grimace.

By the time he’s expected to be there, Obito’s been lingering outside the exhibit for twenty minutes, not quite daring to go in yet despite his clearance. Only once another member of the staff briefs him does he muster up the courage.

“So just follow the standard procedures of the rest of the building. All the supplies are in a marked closet, and are for use in this area only. Need anything else, just radio.”

“Er...thanks.” Watching them go, he looks to the entry doors.

A true-to-life Ariel! a sign proclaims with a rather exaggerated silhouette of a woman half-human, half fish.

Well...here goes nothing.

The first thing he notes? This place is huge…! A tank bigger than any other in the aquarium sits along the left side, with a shape that curves in and out along a path that follows around the entire edge to a door on the other end. Informational signs are atop pedestals every few feet, the glass reaching from floor to ceiling: fifteen feet high. Even from here, he can’t see how much depth the tank has across, but he can tell it’s above and beyond the rest by far.

Lights illuminate the water, and very slowly, Obito steps further into the room. At first...he doesn’t see anything. Sand fills the bottom of the exhibit, dotted with rocks, coral, aquatic plants, and ridiculous decorations like fake shipwrecks. At least she has places to hide…

Which...he supposes explains why he can’t see her. Following the walkway slowly, he scans the water as best he can to no avail.

Seems she’s done for the day.

...he can’t help but be disappointed.

Either way, he has a job to do. There’s a fair amount of trash - to be expected, given the sheer volume of people that likely made their way through here today. He starts there, picking up as much refuse as he can by hand with his gloves before moving on to vacuuming, and then mopping.

All the while, he gives curious glances up.

Still nothing.

...she is in there, right?

Sighing to himself, he keeps going, eventually losing himself more in the task than his curiosity. Only once he goes from one end to the other and replaces his supplies for glass cleaner and a long-handled scrubber does he freeze.

From the porthole of the sunken ship, he can see mirror-like reflections. Two of them. Just...staring at him.

...he stares back.

They don’t blink, which...unsettles him. But after several minutes of a stalemate, he shifts a bit. Still no reaction, and it’s getting late.

Carefully, he turns to head back toward the entrance. Maybe it’s not her, just...something for people to think is her, to keep them...occupied? Either way, he starts spraying down the glass. Though there’s a railing serving as a buffer, it’s still littered with handprints. Wonderful. Using the handled mop, he wipes from top to bottom in a long-practiced manner.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, a dart of movement!

Startling, he almost drops the mop, clinging to it and watching. Something dips into a small forest of kelp, and he stares, doing his best not to blink, should he miss it.

Then, very slowly, a dainty pair of hands part through the greenery, urging it aside to peer out dolefully. Like before, a pair of eyes look like silver mirrors, almost a bit too large for her pale face, which he can barely see in the shifting expanse of kelp.

For a moment, he almost forgets to breathe.

They both linger, unmoving, for several minutes, studying one another. Then, ever so slowly, she makes her way out from her hiding place.

From her scalp grow pure white, wavy tresses that float freely in the water. Her skin is nearly snowy, almost translucent, which flows seamlessly into the colorless, shining scales of her tail. Unlike the traditional mermaid’s tail that lays flat like a whale’s, hers is more like an actual fish: upright, waving slowly side to side to propel her forward. And unlike her small cousins, her gills rest not in her neck...but along her ribcage on either side, just beneath the line of her bust.

...which Obito then notices is very much nude, and he can’t help but go bright red.

But she keeps watching him, her expression almost akin to a curious child. Approaching the glass, she softly lets a palm rest against the surface.

Her fingers are webbed.

Still clutching his mop, Obito isn’t sure what to do. But after a pause, he very carefully lifts his own hand - still covered in a protective glove.

...it makes hers look so small.

Head tilting, she seems to consider the size, peering at it curiously. Then her eyes lift to the mop, and her pupils grow to a nearly ridiculous size.

At once he’s reminded of those pouncing cat videos, and...Obito gets an idea. Slowly, as not to startle her, he lowers it back to the glass.

She moves to follow it, palm to the surface.

Then he moves it to the right.

She follows.

To the left.

Follows.

In spite of himself, he grins. Spraying more cleaner, he starts scrubbing...and the mermaid gives chase. Like a kitten with a ball on a string, she darts to and fro in pursuit, Obito ramping up his speed until he’s running up and down the walkway like a madman, the mermaid easily keeping up and trying to catch her fabric quarry. Unable to help laughing aloud, he goes until he’s completely out of breath, leaning back against the wall and sliding to sit along the floor.

Sinking to the sand, she lays along her belly and patiently waits, watching him.

“...well, at least I know you’re playful,” he muses, wagging the mop and observing her eyes tracing its movements. Still grinning as he taunts her, there’s a pause as he notices something.

...she’s got some kind of...collar on.

Brow furrowing, he lifts to his feet, setting aside his supplies. She almost looks disappointed, staring at the discarded mop before looking to him. Obito cranes, trying to look more closely at her neck.

Understanding brightens her, and then...she dims. Adjusting her posture, she lifts her chin, putting her throat on full display. A webbed hand gently brushes against it.

It’s a ring of metal clasped tightly to her neck. Practically putting his nose to the glass, Obito squints. It almost looks like…?

Sorrow pinches her expression, and a turn aside of her head shows him what really makes the collar wicked: it’s screwed into her neck. Puncturing her skin!

Why?!

Obito can’t help but gape openly. What the hell is that supposed to accomplish besides being extremely painful? Is it some kind of...method of control? Tracking? Can’t they do something like a microchip instead, like with pets? What reason do they have for being so, so...barbaric?

Seeing his aghast expression, she wilts. Laying her hand against the glass, a look of somber defeat darkens her face.

“...I’m so sorry.”

Though muted through the glass, she hears him speak, glancing up.

“...I’ve got something a bit like that,” Obito offers. Holding his arm aloft, he rolls back his sleeve, showing scars. “I’ve got, er...pins. In my bones. Some plates, too. From a wreck when I was younger. Screws holding things together, but…” His brow furrows, lowering the limb back down. “...that’s not what those are for, is it?”

To his surprise, she sadly shakes her head.

...she...she understands him…?

“Then...what does it do?”

She looks hesitant. Apparently she can’t speak, which...makes sense. Or maybe he can’t hear her? Either way, she doesn’t attempt to explain verbally. Instead, she brings her hand back to the glass, thumping lightly.

After a confused pause, he does the same.

Her other hand makes a tugging motion, so he removes his glove.

A few more times, she pounds the glass, pointing from her hand, to his. Then to her tail, and his legs.

...wait…

“...you...you can change shape? You mean you can look like a human?”

She brightens, nodding quickly. But then webbed hands wrap around her throat with a pained expression.

“...that...keeps you from changing?”

Another nod.

“But...how?”

Looking at a loss, she shakes her head. Apparently that’s too complicated to pantomime.

“...so you are a person. And they know that. And yet...you’re in here. To make them money…” He spits the last word. “What the fuck is wrong with them…”

She doesn’t have an answer.

“...and you can’t get that off, can you?”

A shake of her head.

“Get me in there with some bolt cutters, I’d get that thing off…” He fades into grumbling, actually considering heading in to the tank team’s access point. But something tells him he likely doesn’t have clearance.

No wonder security has been such a big deal…and he knows well enough this is all going on camera.

But once he quiets, Obito realizes this is...all a bit much. So, mermaids are real. They can change their shape, which doesn’t sound possible. What else is out there that humans believe to be fantasy that he doesn’t know about? Vampires, werewolves, hell maybe dragons…? It all makes his head spin a bit, and he leans his brow against the glass with a grunt.

Looking sympathetic, the mermaid does the same, mimicking his posture.

“...I feel like a really shitty person just leaving you in there,” he mutters. “But what can I do about it? I don’t even think I can get in there...let alone know what to do with you once I do. At best I get fired, at worst I get sued into the ground or like...hitman’d for messing with something this big. I mean...a mermaid? That’s...that’s huge!”

All she can do is listen, just as unsure.

“You think there’d be people upset about all this…”

“Well well...I had a feeling I’d end up running into you.”

Startling at the voice despite its familiarity, Obito straightens and gawks. “K...Kakashi? What...what the hell -?”

“I’m here on a little business from my side job,” the other man replies, giving a smile. “Lo and behold, you happen to be involved.”

“Side job? But...you’re a teacher. What are you -?”

“It’s a long story, and I’m afraid there isn’t much time to explain it now,” Kakashi cuts in. “And in fact...having you involved is a bit of a legal matter, but...well, given how out of control this has gotten at all, it’s a bit hard to avoid. I don’t think the Senators are going to kill that many people…”

Obito just...blinks. What the hell is he talking about? Senators? Killing people?! “What’s going on?”

“I’m here to get the little lady out. Y’see...her being seen by humans is a bit of an issue. Not that it was her fault, but a mess is a mess, and I’m good at cleaning them up. A bit like you, but...well, less literally.”

“I...I don’t…”

“I don’t expect you to comprehend on such short notice, but since you’re here...and since you’re being oh so sympathetic...you could lend me a hand, Obito.”

“With what? Getting her out?”

“You work here, don’t you?”

“Yeah, cleaning floors! I don’t have permission to -!”

“Well, ‘permission’ won’t exactly cover what I’m going to do anyway,” Kakashi assures him, a finger to his lips. “More like...assisted breaking and entering. Don’t worry, the security feed is already offline, but that’ll attract attention in and of itself. So I need to be quick. Do you know how to get into the tank?”

“Er...no -?”

“Then I’ll figure it out myself. Unless you feel like helping.” As Kakashi turns to start looking, there’s a pause as Obito grabs his shoulder.

“What’s really going on here?”

Silver brows lift in mild surprise. “...stick around, and maybe I’ll tell you. But for now I’m on a bit of a tight schedule. Hm?”

Hesitating for a moment, Obito then sighs. Well...so much for that raise. He doesn’t understand - especially how the hell Kakashi is involved - but if this’ll help her, then...fine. “...all right. I’ll help.”

“Great! First thing’s first: find a way in, get her out, get that nasty silver business out of her neck, and then make our escape. Simple as that.” With that, Kakashi takes long strides toward a door labeled, “Employees Only”. To Obito’s surprise, his offered keycard opens it. “Now...let’s see…” Up a ladder Kakashi goes, and up into the second floor that sits above the full tanks. Every so often is a hatch used to get down into them. “This looks to be around the right spot…” Squatting and examining the mechanism, Kakashi turns a wheel much like that in a submarine, loosening it until he can lift it and reveal the tank below. “Perfect! Come on over here, sweetheart - we’ll get you loose. But first, that nasty collar…”

Below them, the woman swims up to the gap, breaching her head but keeping her ribs (and therefore her gills) under the surface.

From a bag on his belt, Kakashi pulls a wicked set of cutters. “All right...hold still...this is going to sting like a bitch.” Ever so carefully, he slips the blades around the metal, giving a snip. She flinches, and then there’s a gasp as he starts to ease out the screws from her neck. Tears quickly well up in her eyes, sliding down already-wet cheeks. A shudder of pain racks her form, reflexively palming at the wounds.

“Shit…” Obito can’t help but swear softly. “What’s that even for?”

“Silver is nasty business for...people like her,” Kakashi offers evasively. “It was keeping her from being able to Shift, or...change form. With it out, she can take a human shape and be able to breathe air, once I get the wounds cleaned from lingering toxicity from the metal.”

“...how do you know all this?”

“Not the time, Obito.”

He scowls, but realizes that no, this isn’t a good time for explanations.

“...I can hear police sirens. I think someone knows I’m here.”

“I don’t hear anything.”

“Not yet, you don’t.” Applying an ointment to the mermaid’s neck, Kakashi asks, “How about now?”

Closing her eyes, she focuses...and in the time it takes Obito to blink, she’s suddenly keeping herself afloat with legs, not fins. “G-good.”

“All right.” With hardly any effort, Kakashi reaches in and takes her under the arms, lifting her to sit on the lip of the hatch. “Sorry, don’t have any garments for you here.”

“I’d rather be naked than wear that thing another moment,” she assures him, voice barely a whisper.

“Well then, we better go.”

“Er…” Watching Kakashi get up, Obito nonetheless shrugs out of his coat. “...here. It’s...not much, but better than nothing.”

Accepting it, she gives him a soft smile. “...thank you.”

“Come on, you two!”

By now, Obito can hear the sirens, and his heart leaps up to his throat as rather sour memories surface of the last time he tangoed with police. And here he thought he was a changed man… Helping her along, they descend back to the first floor. “Now what?”

“Now we get the hell out. Back door.” In one motion Kakashi scoops the woman up, running to said exit. “You coming or not?”

“...guess I don’t have much choice,” Obito mutters, following. “Do you have a car?”

“Nope.”

“What?!”

“I ran.”

“You...ran.”

“Time for big reveal number two,” Kakashi offers. “Just promise you won’t start hollering.”

“Why would I ho-wHAT THE HELL?!”

Turning and snarling, a silver wolf the size of a small car - standing where Kakashi was just a moment prior - clearly warns him to be quiet.

“I...I think we’re meant to ride him.”

“What -?!”

“There isn’t any time! The humans will be here any moment!” Hoping astride the beast, the woman offers him a hand. “...are you coming?”

For some reason, in the back of his mind, Obito gets the feeling that accepting that grip is going to tear him right out of his life and into a whirlwind of chaos. But...he’s already come this far.

Maybe he was getting a bit tired of ‘normal’.

“...this is fucking nuts,” he replies, but takes her hand anyway, surprised at her strength as she hauls him up behind her.

“Hold on!”

Like a shot, Kakashi takes off, leaping over a rear wall and streaking out through alleyways. Obito chokes on a yelp as he clings to the mermaid, who in turn keeps steadying fistfuls of fur in her hands. Very much conscious of her near-nudity, Obito keeps his eyes crammed shut - and even then, the whipping wind would have him tearing up anyway.

Only once they’re miles from the aquarium, the sounds of sirens far behind them, does Kakashi slow to a stop near what appears to be an abandoned building. Shouldering open a door, he lets the pair off before slinking into another room.

Obito and his new companion stand a bit awkwardly, the former very much avoiding looking at the latter.

“Here.”

“Wha-?” With a small oomph, the woman catches a pile of fabric thrown her way.

Human again, Kakashi finishes belting on a pair of pants, still barefoot and shirtless. “Sorry for the rush. I wasn’t exactly allocated much for this. We had to be quick and quiet given the publicity.”

“No, I...I understand.” Realizing the fabric is indeed clothes, she slips into a rather basic-form dress, shyly making to hand Obito his coat. “...thank you.”

“Keep it. It’s chilly.”

She blinks at him, but...sheepishly puts it back on.

“All right, so…” Kakashi claps his hands together. “Introductions. Kakashi Hatake. School teacher by day, Nightwalker Enforcer by night.”

At that, she balks. “Y-you’re an Enforcer?”

“I am. But not to worry - this was a rescue-only mission, little lady. You’re not under arrest. In fact, we’re working on a safehouse for you.”

Still looking taken aback, she wilts in relief. “...thank you. I’m - I’m Ryū. Ryū Suigin. Obviously a, um...mermallian.”

“Obito Uchiha. Human, and fucking confused,” the last of them then cuts in. “What the hell is going on?”

“A lot more than I can fully explain in a night, but here’s the sparknotes,” Kakashi offers. “You’re a human. Or I’m going to assume you are, given you smell like one and you’ve never presented as a Nightwalker to me. Nightwalkers are what humans call monsters. Werewolves,” he offers, gesturing to himself, “mermallians, harpies, vampires...a whole slew of things. You think we don’t exist because we don’t want you to think we exist. Because when you did, you tried to wipe us out. And by you I mean humans, not...you specifically.”

“...all right.”

“I, as I said, am an Enforcer. Basically Nightwalker police, only a bit more...powerful than what you think of when you hear ‘police’. I work to keep the two worlds separate, and safe. Nightwalkers have laws. We call them Mandates. Those are very extreme rules meant to keep ourselves safe from humans. The most important ones deal with keeping ourselves secret. But...as it would inevitably happen, proof sometimes crops up. Like miss Suigin here being caught. Then people like me are sent to clean up the mess. It’s been a while since we’ve had one this, er...obvious.”

At that, Ryū wilts, and Obito shuffles closer to her protectively. “...so is she in trouble?”

“No. As I said, this wasn’t her doing, and it’s too large-scale to handle as we typically do. In other words, silencing all involved parties. Like I said...our laws are harsh, but they have to be. We’ll start planting doubt and evidence that the whole thing was a hoax. Those crazy newspaper levels of fake. Eventually humans will buy into it, and this will all be swept back under the rug. Until then, she’s in protective custody. And we really need to get those wounds looked at. Silver is nasty, nasty business.”

“...so what about me?”

“...what about you?”

“I’m most certainly going to be fired from my job! Possibly get arrested! My life is -!”

“Ruined? Maybe. In fact, I’d say probably. But, you also helped save an innocent young woman from a lifetime of being gawked at and living in constant pain,” Kakashi cuts in, giving an eye-closing smile. “So...think that was worth it?”

That gets Obito to balk a bit, glancing to Ryū sheepishly. “Of...of course it was.”

“Good! Besides, maybe I can see about helping you out. You did aid an Enforcer in official Senate business. There’s probably a reward for you in there somewhere. At the very least we can probably pull some strings to keep you from being implicated in any crime. A job might be another story, but...maybe for old time’s sake. Now...you two sit tight, and I’ll see what my next move needs to be from my boss.” He gives a mock salute before heading into another room, pulling out a cellphone.

There’s a pregnant pause, and then Obito dares to glance to Ryū. She looks a bit afraid, hands clasped at her front and fiddling slightly. His eyes then draw to her neck, which is still flushed and angry around the puncture wounds.

Anger simmers in his gut at the sight, and it solidifies his resolve all the more. “...are you all right?”

Startling slightly, she looks to him before wilting. “I...I’ve just been rather, um...out of sorts the last few months…” Her tone is still so soft, and he can’t help but wonder if that’s the fault of her wounds.

“I can only imagine. But...I mean now. Can I...can I do anything…?”

Expression turning thoughtful, she then gives him a small smile. “...you’re very sweet, but...I think for now there’s not much to do...but thank you. You said your name was...Obito?”

“Yeah. And yours was Ryū?”

“Mhm!”

“Well...the circumstances really sucked, but...it’s still really nice to meet you. Never, uh...met a mermaid before.”

That gets her to laugh wispily into the cuff of his jacket, and the sound makes his belly do flip flops. “Well, I’m honored to be the first! You were...the first human since all of this started to treat me kindly. So...thank you.”

“Of course.” Thinking back over the night, he then flushes pink. “Er...sorry about the mop...thing. I wasn’t sure if you were, y’know...a person. I saw you look at it and…”

“...oh!” Another laugh, and oh man he likes that sound. “To be fair...my reaction was genuine. I’d been stuck in that form for so long, a bit of my mind was more, well...inhuman. I got a little...carried away.” It’s her turn to blush, glancing aside in embarrassment.

Before he can think, Obito blurts, “No, it was cute!”

The pair of them both give a start, faces reddening.

“I...I-I mean...uh -?”

“All right, that’s enough you lovebirds.” Kakashi steps back into the room, now fully dressed and phone slipped back into his pocket. “We’ve got someplace to be.”

“...we? Including me?” Obito asks.

“Including you. And this time we get to use a car. Seems the boss man wants to see me and the pair of you in person.”

“...is that, um...is that good…?” Ryū asks, looking nervous.

“Well, I doubt it’s bad,” Kakashi replies evasively. “But in truth? We’ll know when we get there. I’ve got a car around back - we’ll take that.”

As he turns to lead the way, the others make to follow. To his surprise, Obito feels Ryū bustle up to his side slightly, as though trying to hide behind him.

...well Obito, you’ve gotten yourself into this mess. Might as well see it to the end. Trying to look nonchalant, he lets his arm drape over her shoulders in a gesture of protection.

Besides...that’s what he was hired to do: clean up messes.

     Hello and welcome to another one of Sylvie’s completely random brainchild drabbles xD I’ve wanted to do more of this verse for a while, and experimenting with different creature types is so much fUN!      So yes, back in my original monsters verse! This time with human!Obito, and mermallian!Ryū. And ofc werewolf!Kakashi cuz that’s the only Nightwalker that fits him, bahaha~ And they’re BUSTING HER OUT OF FISH PRISON. Cuz...reasons!      ...it’s really random, I’m sorry, but most of the drabbles on my to-write list are, so...prepare your butts for more, hehehe~ But uh...that’s about it for this? Not much else to say besides, uh...hope you liked it? lmao      *scuttles back under my rock*

#abyssaldespair #uchiha obito #suigin ryū #hatake kakashi #vulgarity // #blood // #of monsters and men [ au ]

[scenarihoes]

if you're still doing them, I'd love a scenario for present mic which has a crush on one of the girls that works at the radio station and one day when he arrives she's there alone singing quiet a sexy songs and he notices how great her voice is and how much sexier she makes the song sound

thanks for the request!!!!!!! this is SO cute and i adore present mic hehehe

LET’S GO!

——-

Birds chirp loudly and soar upon the open sky. The sun has yet to even peak over the towering buildings of the city, stars still dancing among the lightening hues of blue and black. If not for the fact that he’d been up all night the previous evening, Hizashi was sure he’d have taken in the early day, sucked in a deep chestful of breath and smiled on the exhale. In his dreariness he can almost appreciate the serenity but with Aizawa’s grumpy tone resonating from the phone tucked between Hizashi’s shoulder and ear, it’s hard to really let loose.

“Remind me why you woke me up?” He grunts, and there’s the sound of shifting blankets.

“Sorry man! I really thought it would go to voicemail,” A loud lions-like yawn escapes him, feet coming to stop at a very familiar radio-station. “You’re usually almost dead around this time.”

“Whatever. What did you want to tell me?”

“I was just gonna leave a simple little message for you to wake up to.”

“Get on with it, then. I’d like to get back to sleep before tomorrow.”

“Alright, alright,” Hizashi tilts his head and secures the phone even tighter as one hand reaches out, catches the door knob and the other shoves the key hastily into the hole. “We’ve got some new systems in the station and I totally forgot to set the damn things up. I went the entire show last night with old goods Shouta!”

“….And?”

“Aaaaaand,” Hizashi stills and shuts his eyes, bracing for impact. “I won’t have time this week to set them up so I’ve gotta get it done before everything else today...” He pauses and shuts his eyes with a cringe. “...I don’t think I can make your coffee run…”

A loud, irritated groan nearly makes him shudder so hard the phone drops. Even though Aizawa can’t see him, the edges of his lips flick upwards in a sheepish smile.

“Come on, man! I can do it tomorrow!”

“I need it today.”

“Wait one more day,” He yowls, shoulders slumping. “I can do it tomorrow, buddy!”

“There’s no point tomorrow when I wanted it today.”

“If it’s so important than why can’t you go get it!”

“Ugh.”

The line falls dead and Hizashi blinks forward at the station door. He doesn’t know if he should be surprised or not- after all, he had told his friend he’d go out and get some of that weird coffee he likes from the store downtown while he was out and about, but to set up the new systems, he knows it’ll throw a pretty hefty wrench in the order of his plans. He’d never make it across town in time with everything else he’s got going on. Three jobs and a week full of errands doesn’t come cheap, after all.

As he shoves the phone into his pockets, a sigh escapes him. Oh well, he’d make up for it some other time. He’d buy double the amount and deliver it to his friends door, practically bust the frame down if there’s no answer. Or maybe he’d just shout Aizawa’s name from outside until the man wanted to knock him out. The usual routine.

The first thing he notices when he pushes the door open is the most obvious: the sound of music. It’s soft but the station is small enough for it to travel fast. The second thing he notices takes a little longer to set in. Compared to the quality of the days prior, the music reaches him so much smoother than it ever had before. Beats rumble in his chest. Languid notes of an American song he recognizes but can’t quite name yet, the gentle thump of vibrations resonating off the tables and walls. The bass is heavy in the medoly and makes him want to dance, but he’s too curious to give in just yet.

From where he stands in the entrance he can already see there sound boards are nearly doubled in size, a dozen more options to play with and another extra few buttons for cheesy special effects.

Which leads to the third thing he notices. Well, realizes, mostly. A mountain of empty boxes stack outside the utulity closet, and his eyes widen.

The systems are already a-go.

Dots connect within his brain, a few words you’d spoken to him earlier in the week.

“Don’t worry about it, Mic,” You’d said with a beaming grin. Cupid must have come around early, since his heart fluttered in his chest like a bird in a glass cage. “You’ve got a lot on your plate. Let me take care of setting up!”

A long grin worms it’s way onto his lips, barring his teeth. In just a few long strides he’s finding the control center, plopping down on the swivel chair and kicking his feet up atop the small desk beside all the sound switches. His fingers interlock, rest on his gut. He could one-hundred percent take his leave, get his things done and even make his best friends day, but…

Then again, when does he ever get some alone time with you?

The bright ‘off air’ sign flashes vibrant red within the hosts cubicle, a ‘hang in there’ poster hastily taped on the wall. You’d gotten it for him with a grin and who was he to break your little heart? He taped it right on and patted it down, beamed down at the cuteness of your smile.

Waiting turns out to be much more boring than he’d anticpated. That combined with the idea that he was going to surprise you was making him restless. You were likely taking time to gather up the wires from the old systems or packing them into storage, completely unawere of his prescense. He’s happy he came by, even if it meant Aizawa wasn’t the happiest camper alive.

Then, a sudden sound of singing urges his broad smile to falter. It takes him back, the lyrics of the song he finally recognized. You’re not humming like you usually are, or murmuring off-beat tunes to whatever songs he was playing at the time. You were singing, belting out note after note like there wasn’t a soul to witness it. Somehow during his time spent around you, one of his most frequent over-night coworkers, he’d never once heard you sing. Surely you’d heard plenty of his voice, but this was something else. Something he never expected.

Vocal range, high notes and low notes perfectly carried…

“…And I know when that hotline bling, that can only mean one thing…”

You sing the words so softly, no where near upbeat as the original. The way it sounds rolling from your tongue almost feels emotional, if not a tad sensual. In his chair, Hizashi shivers, sits upright and presses his palms to his knees in interest.

Suddenly the utility closet’s door swings open, revealing a flood of dim light and then your figure lingering in the door way. You sway to the beat of the music, eyes half shut in lazy comfort. The tip of your feet meets a box and you nudge it over to clear a path.

“Ever since I left the city you- Got a reptation for yourself now,”

You’ve yet to notice the figure observing you in relative silence. Hizashi’s over the moon and doesn’t even care that he’s likely being creepy just staring.

“Everybody knows and I feel left out,”

He tingles from the tip of his spine all the way down. Never had he thought Hotline Bling of all songs could sound so saucy, especially coming from your lips. It’s almost an opposite to your usually peppy demeaner.

“Girl you got me down, you got me stressed ou- WOAH!”

In that moment he swears he see’s you leap ten feet high. Your clutch yourself and launch backwards, eyes wide, mouth agape, a hot red already painting the tops of your cheeks. Your sudden outburst scares Hizashi as much as his hidden prescense had scared you, and he’s up and moving so quick the swivel chair slams into the sound systems behind him.

“Hey, hey, hey!” He cries. “No need to freak, it’s only me!”

“You scared the absolute hell out of me, Yamada!” Your hands find your chest. “I almost had a heart attack!”

“Aw doll, I didn’t mean to.” Now he feels like kind of a jerk. You’d been so calm just a moment ago…

As you brush your hair back and sigh, regaining composure, you look up at him. “What are you doing here so early?”

“I uh-…” He rubs the back of his head, long blond hair that he kept flattened today spilling between his fingers. “I was gonna set the systems up before friday.”

“I thought I told you I had it under control?”

“You did! I totally forgot, sorry! But we’ve got more pressing matters-“ His hands reach out and grasp your shoulders. “You never told me you could sing!”

Ah, there goes that tomato red all over again. You tense in his grasp. “W-Well, I don’t exactly do it often…”

“Whaaaaat?!” Hizashi let’s you go and spins dramatically, hands to the sky. “You should! You’re amazing, I could really feel it in my soul!”

“You felt Hotline Bling in your… Soul?”

“All beacuse of you! You’re spectacular. Why do you hold your voice hostage from the world?!”

Another wave of flush encases you and he can see the way you advert your eyes, bite your cheek and force a laugh. “Um… I’m kinda shy…”

“All the more reason to put yourself out there,” Once more his hands find your shoulders, but this time, he bends down to your eye level. You struggle to meet his gaze. “In fact, you should join me and some of my good friends for karaoke this saturday.”

“But the show on friday...?”

“Who say’s the part has to stop after the show! Catch some z’s and we’ll go crazy all over again!”

“W-What?!” You gawk, reaching up to wrap your fingers around his wrists. “I-I couldn’t-… Singing along isn’t my thing, sure it’s fun with friends but…”

“You won’t be alone, I’ll sing with you!” Hizashi pulls back and points to himself with two thumbs. “It’ll be a blast! You don’t even really have to sing if you don’t want to, but you should totally come along! It’ll be like some sort of date!”

Upon the dawn of the first second that word leaves his lips, he’s stone. You gape at him.

“I-I mean, it doesn’t have to be a date, m-more like-“ He feels like he’s going to start sweating bullets any minute. “More like a friend date, yknow? Between two friends! Yeah!”

A swift giggle leaves you, and you’re shaking your head. Endearment, he recognizes. It makes him feel cozy on the inside even despite the butterflies beating the hell out of his stomach.

“It’s fine,” You say, but you’re just as shaken as he is. “I-It can be a date. I think it would be fun, even if I don’t sing much.”

“You mean it?!”

“Well, yeah…! It’s kinda hard not to have fun with you.”

“I mean the date! You wanna go on a date with me?”

A giggle escapes you and sounds with the ever playing music in the background. “Of course!”

Hizashi’s world falls right into the place at the exact right moment. Heavens gates split open, angels sing, golden outlines both him and you. His arms, of course, throw over his head in triumphance.

“Yeah!!!!” He cheers. “You gotta sing that song with me, though!”

“Once, and only once.” Cheekily, you glance up at him from your lashes. “… And only if you sing it with me.”

Suddenly you’re pressed flat against his chest, two arms wrapping around you with childlike excitement. You flail but find purchase on holding the back of his shirt, the length of his hair tickling your upper back.

“Alright then,” He sings. “It’s a deal!”

#bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #imagine #scenario #present mic #yamada hizashi #x reader

[popatochisssp]

Fur a Good Time, Call... 12/15

Series: Undertale, Horrortale Relationship(s): HT!Sans/Reader, HT!Papyrus & Reader, HT!Sans & HT!Papyrus, ensemble Chapter Warnings: none

You work at an animal shelter. You love all your fuzzy buddies and can’t imagine a better job for yourself than looking after cats and dogs all day, even when the work is hard and often gross. What can you say? You’ve got a lot of love to give!

You’re just not quite sure yet how you feel about the new monster who’s been helping out these days, and this riddle wrapped up in an enigma is something you just can’t resist investigating…

AO3 Link

Comeback

“I Can’t Believe You Talked Me Into This,” Papyrus mutters, shrugging his coat back on.

You’re fussing with your shoes, but you smile a little at his exasperated tone. “By ‘talked you into,’ you mean…Sans asking if you wanted to come and you agreeing?”

“Yes! Wily Snakes, The Both Of You!”

That gets you snickering.

“Hey now,” you protest, “I’m no snake, I’m just along for the ride!”

It’d been decided that you would read the directions off your phone while Papyrus drove since it had worked so well last time, and since Sans didn’t actually know where the new Grillby’s was.

Sans himself was upstairs getting dressed and (hopefully) putting his pillow back where it belonged at his brother’s insistence. It was probably for the best, no matter how wonderfully squishy the pillow made Sans’ midsection, or how appealing his broad and sturdy bone structure was without his shirt in the way.

……Am I becoming the type of person that’s attracted to bone structure?

Was that going to be the first thing you thought of now when checking people out? How nicely formed their spines and rib-cages were?!

You might be a little more concerned about that…if you actually had any plans to check out somebody who wasn’t a skeleton anytime soon.

You haven’t been dating all that long, but you’d been best friends before becoming datemates and this thing with Sans…

It feels serious. You think there’s a real future for you here, somewhere down the line, and that’s…

That’s pretty damn cool.

“Well, Fine, If I Can’t Blame You, I’ll Blame Sans!” Papyrus proclaims. “That Makes More Sense, Anyway!”

Yes, exactly: a long and wonderful future of blaming Sans for things Just Because.

It sounded fantastic already.

“Yeah, I’m on board with that,” you agree, finally getting your own coat on.

“I Don’t Even Like Grease,” Papyrus continues to grumble. “I Already Ate, Am I Just Going So I Can Look Pretty While I Third-Wheel Your Date?!”

“Well, you’re good at the first part,” you chuckle, “but you’re no third wheel. Or if you are, it’s ‘cause we’re a tricycle—we love you, and you already know what date-disasters Sans and I are, it’s not like you’re cutting in on anything formal. This’ll be fun!”

Papyrus… isn’t quite looking at you.

He’s putting his gloves on—or maybe he started to, but now he just seems to be wringing his hands distractedly, his posture unusually hunched.

“Isn’t This A Bad Idea?” he asks. If it’s a question, it sounds almost rhetorical with how flatly he says it. “It’s Not Like There’s Anyone There I Was Even Friends With. Maybe…Maybe I Should Just Drive You And Sans Over And Go Home…”

“Papy…”

Your startled, disheartened tone seems to break through to him somehow.

Papyrus suddenly straightens, standing tall and scowling.

With a stamp of his foot, he snaps, “Ugh, Stars Above, You’re Right, That Is Not A Helpful Thought Right Now! This Is A Great Idea! I’m Great! This Is Just The Nervousness Talking, I Am Going To Grillby’s And It’s Going To Be Fine!”

You’re impressed: the only thing you can see in Papyrus right now is steely determination, a light-speed u-turn from where it seemed his thoughts had been heading.

“Are you sure?” you ask, just in case. You feel pretty comfortable speaking for Sans, too, when you say, “We’d never want to take you somewhere you weren’t comfortable…”

“I’m Positive!” Papyrus puts his hand on your shoulder, gratefully gentle. “It Really Will Be Good To See Everybody Again, Whoever Happens To Be There Tonight, And…And Maybe It’s Not As Bad As It Used To Be!”

Man…Papyrus is so cool.

Your insanely awesome friend grabs his car keys with a jaunty little flourish that makes you laugh and you follow him out to the car.

You trust Sans will catch up whenever he finally gets his coccyx in gear.

The wall of cold air that hits your face as soon as you step outside is unpleasant but you power through it. You know that Papyrus’ convertible has some fancy heated seats you’ve been dying to try out and all you have to do is get to them.

“So, what’s Grillby’s even like?” you ask, making a bee-line for the car. “Or…what was it like, I guess? Sans never mentioned it until recently…”

“Underground? It Was A Total Grease-Trap With No Redeeming Features Whatsoever!” Papyrus unlocks the car and you gratefully duck right into the passenger seat while he joins you on the driver’s side. “Naturally, Sans Was There Pretty Much Constantly!”

You laugh and Papyrus laughs with you before admitting, “Perhaps I’m Not Being Very Charitable. It’s A Perfectly Legitimate Eatery If You Like Oil And Salt—” you do, “—And It Was A Very Popular Meeting Place In Snowdin. Sans Had Lots Of Pals There So I Only Complained A Little When He Skipped Out On My Terrible Spaghetti To Go Eat Grease By The Fistful Instead.”

Yeah, sounds like Sans.

“Was…Grillby one of those pals?”

“Oh Yes, Of Course!” Papyrus switches on the heat for you, the absolute angel. “Nyeh-Heh-Heh, Actually…It Started When Poor Grillby Made The Horrific Mistake Of Letting Sans Open A Tab.”

“…Oh stars, that was never paid off, I guess.”

“Definitely Not,” Pap agrees, shaking his head in, you assume, shame that he’s related to such a freeloading cheapskate. “But! Sans Liked It So Much That He Talked The Place Up All The Time, Even In The Middle Of His Hotland Shows.”

It takes you a second to remember Sans telling you he took a crack at professional comedy for awhile. Then, you’re grinning at the mental image of him stopping in the middle of a set or interrupting one of his own jokes to gush about a really, really good burger he had the other day.

Classic Sans…

“Free advertising for Grillby, though,” you note.

“Exactly!” Papyrus taps the ridge on his face where a nose would be and you guess the gesture means you got his point. “He Got Enough Business Through Sans That He Decided Enabling His Shameful Freegan Lifestyle Was Acceptable And That Was That! Their Weird Symbiotic Relationship Was Born, Like…Like A Crab And The Gross, Slimy Algae That Grows On Them For Camouflage!”

He leans over to you like he’s telling you a secret and stage-whispers, “Obviously, The Gross, Slimy Algae In This Analogy Is Sans.”

“aw, bro, you’re analogizin’ about me again? your heart’s as cold as the wind outside tonight.”

You whirl around and sure enough, Sans is there in the backseat. He’s fully dressed so you can’t tell if he ditched the pillow or not, but he smiles when he sees you looking and gives you a little wink that makes you feel warm inside.

“It’s About Time!” Papyrus says, already starting to drive. “I’m Going To Let That Insult Go, Just This Once, Since It Was Actually Almost Clever!”

“was it? my bad. your mom.”

“We Don’t Have One Of Those?”

“right. your butt, then.”

“Nyeeeh, We Don’t Have Those Either, Sans! Human, Please Give Me The Directions Before I Have To Pull Over And Give My Brother A Serious Thrashing!”

“whoa, Pap, don’t go makin’ any thrash decisions.”

Papyrus reaches back to swat at Sans, Sans dodges with ease, and you pull up the directions and do your best to be intelligible through your giggles.

It’s gonna be a good night.

-

Eventually you arrive in front of a small brick building. The sign on top labels it as your destination, ‘GRILLBY’S’ in big, shiny bronze lettering.

Both of the brothers go quiet when they see it, stopping mid-bicker just to stare at the unassuming little place you’ve pulled up to.

Papyrus recovers first, shooing you and Sans out of the car so he can go find somewhere to park. You can’t help noticing the nervous tapping of his spindly fingers against the steering wheel, but when you go to say something, Sans’ hand settles on your shoulder.

“sure thing, Pap,” he says. “ketchup soon, yeah?”

“Oh, Don’t Start!” Papyrus replies, grinning despite himself. “Those Tired Puns Of Yours Are…An Assalt On The Entire Art-Form! Nyeh-Heh-Heh-Heh-Heh!”

With that, he drives off and you give Sans a questioning look.

“he’s comin’ back,” he promises you, reading your concerns with ease. “he’s just gotta talk himself up to it first. don’t worry too much.”

It’s asking a lot, but…well, you trust Sans, and you trust Papyrus. If they need you to worry about them, you think that by now, they’d let you know.

“If you say so.”

You take another look at the fabled Grillby’s.

There’s a big front window with tinted glass and a big ceramic planter by the door. You can’t tell what sort of plant is in it, though, because there’s a pretty thick dusting of powder from the last snowfall obscuring it, making it droop over heavily. There’s snow up on the awning, too, but it’s faring better than the plant and not even bending beneath the weight.

It looks like a cute place, somewhere you’d definitely have stopped in for a try if you’d ever gone past it before.

“fuck me, it even looks the same,” Sans breathes.

You look up at him. You can’t quite read his expression, but it’s not blank, and it doesn’t seem bad. The closest label you can give it is ‘bittersweet nostalgia’ which…well, you can certainly understand that.

Still.

“You still want to do this, right?” You reach over and grab his hand—you’re getting pretty good at it, even with the size difference you once found awkward to manage—and gently assure him, “We don’t have to go if you’re not ready.”

“……heheheh…never thought i’d see the day i’d have to be talked into grillby’s.” Sans smiles at you, squeezing your hand. “nah, i’m alright. it…it’s been long enough. gotta do it sometime, might as well be now, when i got the cutest cheerleader ever backin’ me up.”

Your heart thumps a little harder. “Aww, Sans…”

“yeah…so soon as Pap gets back, i’ll be good to go.”

“…Sans!” You tug your hand back and give him a whack on the arm. “And here I thought you were being cute!”

“what, brotherly love ain’t cute enough for ya’?” he wonders slyly.

“Pfffffft.”

“aw, heheh, i’m kiddin’, babe, i’m kiddin’, c’mere…” He pulls you up against him, bending down to nuzzle your cheek.

You…elect to allow it.

“for real,” he murmurs at your ear, “i dunno how long i woulda taken to get here without you. you’re a real star too, okay?”

Oh, damn it.

How the hell were you supposed to feign annoyance when Sans was such a sweetheart?

“You’re the worst,” you mutter with a smile you can’t restrain, pressing a kiss to his cheekbone. “I regret dating you.”

Sans just chuckles. “that’s the spirit. let’s go before ya’ freeze your nose off or somethin’, huh?”

“I’d prefer to keep my nose, yeah.”

Well, then…once more into the breach, right?

You pull open the heavy door and walk in, Sans right behind you.

The inside of Grillby’s reminds you of nothing so much as a log cabin. The floor and furniture are all wooden, well-lacquered mahogany that seems like it’s seen some wear over the years but was treated kindly enough to last anyway. The flickering sconces all over accent the atmosphere nicely, as does the dark shade on the walls that puts you in mind of a big mug of hot cocoa.

It’s warm and quaint, almost homey, and you feel comfortable in this calm and quiet little pub almost instantly.

It doesn’t stay calm and quiet for very long.

Mere seconds after walking through the door, the scattered monster patrons turn from their food and drinks to see who’d come in.

The lone little human doesn’t seem to merit much reaction, but you spot at least three separate double-takes for the skeleton at your heels and soon the excited whispers and murmurs around you coalesce into one joyful exclamation.

“SAAAAANS…!”

Sans goes blue, ducking his head with a shy little chuckle that would make you want to pinch his cheeks if they were squishier.

You take a step back as several monsters scurry forward to swarm your date and just observe.

There’s a lizard-man with brown and yellow scales clapping his claws on Sans’ shoulder and a whole pack of bipedal dogs pushing and shoving and barking as they fight over who gets to ‘pet him first.’

A tiny blushing…volcano? sneaks in between everyone’s feet to wriggle against Sans’ tibia cooing, “Ah, so lovey…!” and you have to look away before you burst out laughing.

There’s some more monsters watching the scene like you were— some sort of eel monster trying to start a cheer, but not noticing he’s the only one doing it because he’s already pretty sloshed. Someone who looks more mouth than monster is smacking their vines together in an unusual attempt at applause, and when you look away from Little Shop of Horrors you spot Burr waving a paw at you over a cute pink and blue milkshake.

You wave back with a smile and start heading over to say hi until you’re caught by a familiarly bony pair of hands on your arms and whirled right around.

“heheh, hey, has, uh, has everybody met my date?” Sans says, holding you in front of him like the most ineffective shield ever.

He hurriedly introduces you, calling you his coolest, most favorite human in the world in front of all these new monsters and suddenly, you don’t think it’s the cozy atmosphere in here that’s making your cheeks warm.

Two hand-holding…or, paw-holding dogs start sniffing at you.

“So this is the one…”

“…that Burr talked about?”

Oh jeez, they finish each other’s sentences?

That was cute! And proof that you and Sans weren’t that bad!

“Smells pretty nice for a human!”

“We’ve smelt weirder! I’m Dogaressa and this is my hot-dog hubby!”

“She means me!” the other dog says proudly. “I’m Dogamy!”

“Nice to meet you both,” you greet them. “You guys make a really cute couple!”

Their ears perk and their tails start wagging. “Don’t we?” they coo in unison, and oh boy, they’re nuzzling each other now.

They’re obviously pros at it so your feelings aren’t terribly hurt when they seem to forget all about you. It’s hard to have hurt feelings anyway when there’s two other dogs scrambling for your attention.

One is the smallest, foofiest white pup you’ve ever seen, sproinging around your feet, and the other has sandy yellow fur and is just a pinch taller than you.

Now this is your comfort zone: you’re good at dogs!

They don’t seem to be dogs of the talking variety like the other two, and they’re so alluringly soft that you can’t imagine being able to resist petting them anyway, so you just go for it.

The little white puffball wiggles his entire body when you scratch his head and Sans helpfully tells you, “that’s greater dog.”

“Greater Dog?” you echo. “Well, I can see why, he looks like a pretty great dog!”

His poofy tail swishes back and forth happily and he opens his little mouth to bark at you and—whoa.

That sound was downright booming, you think you may have actually heard some glassware rattling clean across the room from that bark!

“heheheh, nah, that’s why he’s greater dog. his pal over here’s lesser.”

Lesser Dog, apparently, was whining beside you, back paws tap-tap-tapping on the hardwood like he couldn’t wait for you to acknowledge him, too.

“Aw, there’s nothing ‘lesser’ about this guy, he’s adorable!” You pet his head and he yaps excitedly, pushing up into your hand.

Oh…oh, very up into your hand. The dog’s neck is actually extending, physically getting longer the more you pet him.

You’re so fascinated that you just keep petting him until you can’t reach his head anymore. Luckily, with the relative sizes of human-to-monster it doesn’t go too far up, but you have to wonder just how far this elastic pooch could stretch under the right circumstances.

“I’d pet you more,” you call up to him, apologetic, “but I can’t really reach. Sorry!”

Lesser Dog barks, slightly distantly, and Sans snickers.

“he appreciates the attempt.”

The lizard guy approaches you next and grasps your hand very carefully in his clawed fingers, giving it a shake.

“The name’s Dino!” he says amiably, and you’d never expected yourself to be in a situation where a yellow reptile man seemed like the most normal, down-to-earth guy in the room, but here you were. “Burr told us all about you! You must be something real special—I thought I’d be a grandpa before this guy started seeing anybody!”

You’re definitely blushing now, more than a little embarrassed, but by the way Sans laughs behind you as he agrees with Dino, you can tell that your boyfriend is loosening up a little; getting back into his element for the first time in who knows how long.

That makes you a little more comfortable with all this attention, you think, and it’s certainly…flattering!

“Ha ha, thanks! I, uh…”

Your first instinct is to self-deprecate, make it a joke that everyone can laugh about, but…you feel like it would be in bad taste, somehow.

If Sans and Papyrus can try so hard to work on their things, maybe…maybe you can try to work on your things, too.

“I didn’t think he’d say yes when I asked him out, but I must’ve undersold myself a little!” You smile up at Sans, who looks pleasantly surprised that you’re accepting a compliment, and your confidence grows. “I guess I’ve got something he likes!”

“y’wanna know what it was?” Sans asks. This question you know is rhetorical because he’s grinning widely, bursting at the seams to tell you. “i just knew you’d be a good datemate. felt it in my bones.”

It makes you chuckle—you and everybody else in the bar laughing in genuine amusement at the most obvious joke Sans could’ve possibly made.

These were his people, you realized. The ones he’d isolated himself from for two years, maybe longer, and they were finally getting to hear a lazy skeleton joke again straight from the skeleton’s mandible.

This was…this was a really, really good thing.

And you think you can help.

“Don’t lie,” you say, elbowing Sans in the ribs. “You just wanted to date me so you could come back here again!”

It’s obvious that Sans is confused, tilting his head at you. “what’re ya’ talking about?”

That’s perfect. It just makes it even better when you explain, utterly deadpan, “Well, without me, you’d have no body to go with.”

By the look on Sans’ face, you’d have thought you’d just told the funniest joke in the world.

He breaks into ugly guffaws that spread through the place like a contagion and you just beam, even as he hugs you tightly against him.

“this…” he wheezes happily, “this is why…!”

“Oh, they’re funny, too!”

“Nice going, Sansy!”

“We might have some Nose Nuzzling competition this year…”

“No, dear, we’re still the champs! Skeletons don’t have noses!”

“Phew, I was almost worried there!”

Pfft, what a funny bunch of monsters… You hope Sans brings you back here sometime, you already kind of love everyone!

-

When the clamor eventually calms down, Sans introduces you to the rest of the crew: the animated little volcano scampering around here and there is Vulkin, the drunk eel at the bar is Franco…

“ya’ already met burr—”

“hiya,” the bunny waves at you again with a little wink of her swirly eyes.

“—an’ big mouth over there, she’s audrey.”

……of course she is!

Before you can even say it’s nice to meet her, Audrey (II) grins almost unsettlingly wide with her gigantic, sharp teeth.

“Come on, now, Sans,” she says, “don’t you think you’re getting off too easy?”

Sans frowns a little. “…no?”

Audrey grins wider. “Your date hasn’t met everybody yet…”

That seems to make the penny drop for Sans, his red pupil shrinking. “uh…well, no, but, uh…”

Oh wow, Sans looks nervous. There’s actual sweat beading on his skull, and everything.

Audrey just cackles at him, sadistically amused. “You’re lucky I was nice enough to warn you, Sansy!”

One of her vines reaches across the bar, to the door to the back-room, rapping hard against the wood.

“Hey, Grillbz!” she calls with her impressively loud voice. “Get off the phone, already! You’ll never guess who finally dragged his fuzzy slippers in!”

Oh, that’s right: Grillby himself.

You hear a distant sound, a rapidly surging whoosh until the door nearly explodes off its hinges with a loud bang.

The noise makes you flinch, but it’s the flaming monster who pours out of the doorway like a deadly back-draft that makes you actually kind of scared.

Grillby has all the presence of a walking bonfire.

He’s a massive humanoid blur of fire, a fire elemental you suddenly remember Burr telling you, and he’s flickering white-hot as he stalks toward you and Sans with purpose.

Not even his charmingly dapper black bowtie or the square-rim glasses on his face could disguise the fact that Grillby was furious right now and ready to unleash hell, possibly literally.

You normally pride yourself on your ability to take charge of situations, especially when it’s to save Sans from something or other, but this time…

Yikes, babe, sorry, you’re on your own!

At least Sans seems to be on the same page as you. He steps forward, angling himself in front of you so that by the time Grillby storms up, crackling mad, he’s most of the way between you.

Even with your bony boyfriend as a shield, though, the heat is intense and you start to sweat almost as much as Sans.

“uh…h-heya, grillbz,” Sans says weakly. “long, uh…long time, no see?”

Grillby’s oddly featureless face splits right where you’d expect a mouth to be, pouring smoke and flickering spouts of fire that look almost like fangs.

“No. Shit,” he snarls and Sans winces.

“i…yeah, i…i know, that’s…that’s my bad, i was…i was sortin’ myself out, for awhile. it…it hasn’t been too easy,” he laughs tightly, awkwardly.

Grillby doesn’t seem moved.

“i needed a little…space, i guess,” Sans says, ducking his head a little in chagrin. He blindly reaches back toward you, a silent question that you’re happy to answer by grabbing his hand and letting him squeeze it. “needed a little…motivation, too, heheh…but i’m…i’m back now and…grillbz, ya’ still look pissed, whatta’ya want me to tell ya?”

“I want,” Grillby snaps, surprisingly cold for a fire elemental, “an apology.”

“…an apology?”

“For making me worry about you, you bonehead…”

“eheheheheh…”

You want to tell Sans that it’s maybe not the most appropriate time to laugh and that he should probably give his friend the apology he wants to hear.

But that’s not your business. This is Sans’ business and he has to handle it whatever way he decides to handle it.

You stay quiet and let these two sort it out.

“i just wanna say…in my defense, i thought you were dead.”

…damn, Sans was bad at this.

“We thought the same about you, Sans!” Grillby counters. “You disappear on the surface, who the blazes knows where—the least you could’ve done was let someone know you were alright!”

“………i…wasn’t,” Sans says slowly. “i wasn’t alright.”

Grillby’s flames shrink a little, going back down to shades of red and orange, but Sans keeps talking.

“i am sorry, i didn’t…i didn’t mean to make anybody worry about me… wasn’t, uh…wasn’t sure anybody would…but that’s. that ain’t an excuse. m’doin’ better now, tryin’ to anyway…”

You reach up and give his spine a reassuring little stroke through the padding of his hoodie. You feel him relax at your touch and smile, pleased to be able to help.

Or you are, until you find yourself picked up and set down right in front of the living inferno of a bartender, Sans hands on your shoulders holding you in place.

“h-hey, that reminds me, have ya’ met my human yet?”

Sans, you bitch…

A little awkwardly, doing your best to cover your nervousness, you introduce yourself and add, “I’m, uh… I’m the unfortunate sucker Sans has conned into putting up with him for the foreseeable future.”

“‘unfortunate’? ouch, what happened to bein’ your favorite funnybones?”

You give him a near-lethal side-eye, quietly snapping, “Says the guy using me as a distraction to avoid talking about feelings with his friend?”

“…damn, yeah, guess ya’ got me there.”

You hear a weird hissing sound and turn back to face Grillby. The elemental still doesn’t have much of a face to go off of, and the mirror-shine of his glasses isn’t any help, but by the bouncing of his shoulders…

You think he’s laughing.

“You poor, poor human,” he says after a moment. “You must be the reason Sans finally decided to bother coming out to see us. It’s a pleasure.”

Grillby holds out his hand to you, incandescent and flickering. You hesitate only a second before taking it.

The sensation is…weird.

You can’t really describe it: it’s like you’re holding something that doesn’t exist, heat beneath your palm but nothing painful or scorching, and far less solid than anything you can physically hold should be.

You decide not to question it.

“Likewise,” you say to Grillby with a winning smile and he nods in what you hope is approval.

“Bring him here if you ever need a break,” Grillby says, coolly retreating to his place behind the bar. “We’ll keep him out of your hair for a bit.”

“hey, don’t gang up on me.”

“Don’t make people want to gang up on you,” you shoot back teasingly.

“you tryin’ to hold me accountable for my actions or somethin’?” Sans asks, sounding affronted. “rude. uncool. thought you really cared about me.”

Either he’s joking or fishing, but you don’t think it matters which. You turn around and get up on your tip-toes, tugging him down to your level so you can plant a big, affectionate kiss in the middle of his teeth.

“I do really care about you,” you tell him. “Thanks for bringing me tonight. It means a lot to me.”

The absolute best way to win a sass-off with your bonefriend: fluster him with genuine sincerity.

It works like a charm the way it always does and as soon as Sans realizes what you’ve said, he’s blushing blue again, stuttering as he tries and fails to come up with a smooth response.

He’s saved from looking like too much of an idiot when the front door opens and Papyrus makes his way inside at long last.

“Sans! Human!” he exclaims, shaking off some snow and heading straight for the two of you. “You Would Not Believe How Nonsensically Hard It Is To Find Parking Around He—”

“PAPYRUUUUUUUS…!”

Papyrus freezes mid-step, eye-sockets wide behind his glasses as he’s suddenly swarmed by Grillby’s patrons almost as quickly as they’d swarmed Sans.

“Hey there, big guy!” Dogamy greets him, Dogaressa hot on his paws with a, “We missed you! Do you have any bones for us?”

Lesser and Greater Dog both bark excitedly at the b-word and Papyrus just looks at them for a second, baffled.

“Oh, I…I Suppose I Could…Spare A Bone Attack Or Two, If—”

“Nonsense, don’t make the poor guy work, he just got here!” Dino slings an arm around Papyrus, the epitome of friendly. “If you want bones off ‘im, you should win ‘em fair and square! Papyrus, we were just about to get a poker game going, like the old days—you want in? The chips are bones on account of all these mutts, so the buy-in oughta be easy for you!”

It’s pretty obvious, even from where you’re standing, that Papyrus wasn’t expecting this kind of reaction at all.

It’s also obvious that he’s kind of elated by it, being the center of attention in a room with so many people in it.

“Oh! Well, That Sounds! Like A Lot Of Fun!” Papyrus admits, his grin wide and only slightly uncertain. “I-I’m Pretty Good At Poker…At Least, Against Sans, I’ve Never Played With…”

He doesn’t finish the sentence, but Dino doesn’t seem concerned, waving him off. “Aw, forget Sans, we banned him from poker, he’s a cheat.”

“hey,” Sans calls over, “if ya’ didn’t want me to take your kid’s college money, ya’ shoulda said!”

Dino makes a rude gesture at him that makes you snicker a little. Sans just shrugs it off.

“C’mon, Pap, play a game or two! If I win, you can autograph something for me, the kid’s been dying for your autograph since we got up here, it’ll make me Number One Dad if I come home with something signed by The Great Papyrus.”

Papyrus lets himself be tugged over to one of the tables, but not before whipping his skull around to you and Sans, excitedly mouthing, ‘autograph?!’

It may have been a trick of the light off his glasses, but his eye-sockets look positively shiny, like something out of an anime.

“Well,” he says boldly with a quick clearing of the throat he didn’t have, “I’m Sure You’re Delighted To Hear It, But I’m…Feeling Pretty Generous This Evening! I Think I Could Be Persuaded To Sign A Few Things, Whether You Win Or Not! Most Likely Not, Nyeh-Heh-Heh!”

“Man,” Dino laughs, “Papyrus, you’re the best! You’re his hero, y’know? That’ll really make his day.”

“Of Course It Will!” Papyrus squeaks the last word and hastily covers it with an imperious, “Order My Usual, Sans!”

Sans gives him a thumbs up and takes a seat at the bar. You join him shortly, having to hop a little just to get up on the monster-sized stools.

“So much for not having any friends at Grillby’s,” you muse quietly, unable to stop your smile.

“If he thought that, he’s just as hard-headed as his brother,” Burr laughs beside you.

“hey,” says Sans, but you ignore him.

“How’s that?” you ask Burr.

“Sansy may have been the Big Damn Hero getting all the souls,” and you can already see the blue glow of Sans’ face in your peripheral vision, “but good ol’ Papy was the one going around to everybody all the time, making sure we were all as fed as we could be in that hell-hole. That really meant something, to a lot of people.”

You can imagine.

The sort of kindness and decency you’ve seen in Papyrus was the sort that deserved to be rewarded. For keeping that warm heart of his, even when his whole world fell apart around him…

Papyrus is the toughest, coolest, best friend you think you’ve ever had. These accolades are long overdue and it makes you so happy to see him finally receiving them.

“heheheh…yeah. my bro’s the coolest.”

You laugh, grabbing Sans’ arm. “I keep telling you, babe, it runs in the family.”

“mmm, shuddap.” He flags down Grillby to avoid looking directly at you and running the risk of flustering himself even more. “hey grillbz, the usual for me an’ Pap an’ a menu for my adorable, cutesy-wutesy wittle human here?”

…Well, now, you’re blushing again.

Damn, this is a dangerous game.

“I hate you,” you grumble as Grillby passes you a menu.

“lies. lies an’ slander. see anythin’ good?”

So much.

There is so much good on this laminated sheet that you feel utterly spoiled for choice: burgers, fries, sandwiches, mac n’ cheese, and tons more, plus a whole list of monster magic drinks and cocktails that fascinate the hell out of you.

You agonize over wanting to order half of the menu, but ultimately stick with some of your favorites and pass the sheet back to Grillby, excited to see what he can do in the kitchen.

You and Sans have pretty similar tastes: if he was here all the time back in the day, and if Papyrus hated it, you know you’ve got something goodcoming to you.

Papyrus’ usual comes out first since it’s apparently just a glass of milk—“Full Of Strong Bones!” he assures you—and you watch Audrey pass it over to the poker table with one of her very long, very dexterous vines.

From here, it looks like Papyrus is mopping the floor with the other monsters, and you’re more proud of him than you can say.

You turn to Sans next, sitting beside you with an expression on his skull that you haven’t seen in awhile. It’s one of your favorites, where his smile is relaxed and real, with the cute little crinkles at the edges of his eye-sockets that make him look just like a cat.

Your giant, happy skeleton cat…

“Is it the same on the inside, too?”

“hm?” His big, red eye stares at you a second while he comes out of whatever daydream he was in the middle of. “oh…grillby’s, ya’ mean?”

“No, the moon.”

He snorts. “don’t joke, i know you humans’ve been there.” He takes another moment to consider your question, scratching idly at his cheek. “mmm…s’a little different, i guess. a lot the same… the people, y’know. still good. i, uh…i think i missed it a little more’n i thought,” he admits sheepishly.

“Well, I like it so far,” you tell him. “If the food’s as good as you say, I’m happy to come back whenever, so just let me know, okay?”

Sans smiles at you and you get a cheek-nuzzle for the sentiment. “will do, babe. i’ll hold ya’ to that.”

“Jeez, Foo-Foo, you weren’t kidding, these two are schmaltzy.”

Burr giggles at Audrey’s dry observation of you. “Right? I almost don’t want my milkshake anymore, it’s too sweet!”

“hhhhey, y’know what else is new?” Sans hurriedly points out. “never had a tv in here before, when, uh…when’d that happen?”

It’s a terrible distraction tactic, but for once, you’re with Sans on it.

You turn to look at the TV mounted up in the far corner and quickly realize it’s on the same channel Papyrus had turned on back at home before you left.

Only this time, Napstablook’s concert looks to be in full swing.

You imagine the colorful lights and smoke effects look infinitely cooler in person, but whoever’s working the camera is still doing a pretty good job capturing the magic. The ghost behind the turntables looks endearingly shy, like they always seem to be in front of a crowd, but they don’t let it affect their music.

Their techno-tunes are really impressive, complemented nicely by the melodic, feminine voice you’re hearing over them.

Huh, talk about ‘new,’ you’ve never seen her before.

“Shyreeeeeeen…!” you hear from down the bar.

It’s Franco, the eel guy, who you definitely thought had passed out awhile ago. He’s awake now and wriggling excitedly at the screen.

“Turn it up!” he slurs, “Turn it up, tha’s my giiiiiirl! I gott’er that gig, she’s doing amaaaaazing, I’m so proud…!”

Audrey sighs, like she’d be rolling her eyes if she had any, but she dutifully turns up the TV’s volume so that the cute angler fish-looking girl’s singing can be heard loud and clear by everyone.

“I gotta do everything around here,” Audrey mumbles. “If Shyen weren’t a total sweetheart, I swear, I…”

You don’t really hear what she says next because Grillby is setting a couple of plates in front of you, piled high with fantastic-looking food.

You’re not at all surprised to see an unreasonably large burger and fries in front of Sans, nor are you surprised when he proceeds to drown all of it in ketchup.

You don’t let it put you off your own food and happily dig in.

It is……probably the very best thing you have eaten, in your life.

You spare a mental apology to Papyrus’ delightful spaghetti and keep chowing down, savoring every delicious, wonderful bite as much as you physically can.

“heheheheheheheh, good stuff, right?”

“I could eat here for the rest of my life and be totally fine with it,” you say flatly.

Sans laughs, but suddenly Grillby’s leaning across the bar, inscrutable.

“Would you like to?” he asks.

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Uh…”

Before you can figure out if he’s joking and what to say back, the fiery restauranteur says, “You can. For free. An unlimited lifetime tab.”

Sans chokes a little on the swig of ketchup he was taking. “whoa, grillbz, you serious? i thought what we had was special.”

“It was,” Grillby says. You get the impression that if he had any facial features you were used to, he’d be giving Sans a savagely sassy look. “I’m revoking it from you and giving it to your human instead. I’d rather not waste my excellent service on an ungrateful no-show.”

“aw, man, that’s cold, grillby…”

When Grillby doesn’t react to Sans’ terrible pun, he frowns. It looks like a pout, and there goes your urge to pinch his cheeks again.

“wait, you’re not seriously cuttin’ me off, are ya’? i said i was sorry!”

The elemental is utterly unconcerned. “If you want to freeload,” he says, “ask your date to cover you. At least that way, I can expect to see you in here, sometimes.”

Sans blusters a little longer to the stoic and indifferent Grillby before turning his attention to you.

“well, hey, you’ll cover me, right?” He gives you his best attempt at puppy-dog eye(-socket)s, which quite frankly would probably terrify anybody who didn’t know what a goober he was.

Against you, they’re stupidly effective.

You sigh. “I guess…”

He brightens and damn it all, that look is just as cute.

“no prob, then,” he says, nuzzling at you again. You nuzzle back because you have no self-control. “i’ll just have to stick with you as long as i can. take full advantage of my sugar-human’s privileges.”

You laugh and shove him a little because you’re never going to live that down, but also because it’s easier to do that than acknowledge the weird little somersault your heart just did.

He may have been joking, but Sans basically just said you were a keeper; that he wanted the same thing you wanted out of this, and that was…

Wow.

-

At some point, you’re shanghaied by the poker table—apparently, Papyrus is an even worse scourge on their bone-chips than Sans was and they want to call upon his dark powers of shameless cheating to overthrow the new tyrant.

Sans protests a bit at first, citing his compromised memory, but they take it as a perk that’ll keep him from counting cards.

That’s about when you volunteer yourself as his partner: if the Dogi can be a team, Sans should be allowed to have a team, too, and you’re not exactly a card sharp so it shouldn’t be too uneven.

The table agrees and gives you a quick rundown of the rules they’re playing by and you and Sans are welcomed into the game.

It’s unbearably hard to keep your poker-face when Sans pulls you into his lap under the pretense of being better able to see your joint cards and you feel a very suspicious cushiness against your back.

“You left the pillow,” you hiss at him, trying desperately not to burst out laughing. “I cannot believe you, you left the pillow…!”

You bounce a little when he chuckles at your reaction. “what can i say?” he says in a low murmur. “maybe i was hopin’ to get you on top of me again an’ wanted you to be comfy.”

“Ugh, You Two Are Disgusting!” Papyrus groans at the flushing of your face. “Quit Your Incessant Canoodling And Ante Up, Already! I Have A Game To Win!”

Surprise of surprises, he does…but you and Sans give him a run for his money (bones?) and make him really work for that victory.

Still, you’re out with your best friend and your boyfriend, having a great time and chatting with, the monsters willing, a whole host of new friends that you hope to see again very soon here at your new favorite eatery.

You don’t really mind it too much that you lose a few games.

A/N: In case it’s not clear, Franco is Shyren's agent, Audrey is Big Mouth, and good ol' Dino is Monster Kid's dad!

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#fur a good time call #undertale #fanfiction #sans #papyrus #sans/reader #horrortale #ht!sans #ht!papyrus #myfic

[sensualsicheng]

okay dumbassess — h. renjun

( they/them pronouns )

↳ GENRE: mega fluff !!

↳ WARNINGS: cussing, renjun being cute, ACTUALLY PROOF READ YAY GO GIA

[ september 20th, 2018 ; around 1 am ]

thank you for being my first request! ♡ sorry it took a while,, school started and i was having trouble with the very beginning and middle of this writing lol i scrapped it a lot

before we start assholess is pronounced like the ess in princess ((assholess is for all genders, it’s just to separate asshole and asshole 2.0 because headass just didn’t sound right idk lol)) i wrote just and then so many times in this

renjun knEW he had finally felt love when his lips met yours

today was the best day of your life you liked to say

huang renjun, your boyfriend of just a few months under a year, was literally the most precious, kind hearted, sassy, and salty person all wrapped in one

and today you were together like always

but it was even more (((o(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)o)))♡ than normal ya know

but it started out odd. he was less !! and fun than normal so it made you ): but you just shrugged it off because he didn’t look sad or anything ((because b you KNEW when he was upset it was like your spidey sense but for renjun’s feelings))

but then you had ran out the back door as you chased him because he took your faVORITE snack EVER how dare he ):<<

“RENJUN I’M GONNA KICK YOUR ASS WHEN I CATCH YOU”

“LANGUAGE”

“OKAY MR ‘DUMBASS!!1!!1’ ”

“OKAY MISS ‘DUMBASSESS’ ”

because ya know couple names right 😍😍😳😱💞 dumbass and dumbassess

but then you fell into his pool wow how romantic

you know now none of that i cornered you now give me my thing back now it’s i need new clothes give me clothes

what it’s 2 am leave me alone

anyway he kind of stood there and didn’t know what to do but you fell in the middle like where the shallow end meets the deep and so you pushed yourself up since you weren’t that far down

“you made me get water up my nose ):”

“maybe don’t fall into a pool then y/n”

am i the best at dialogue or what wow i’m so creative 10/10 best writing but seriously i can’t conversate irl and writing dialogue is even worse for me lol

you just rolled your eyes and got out as he ran inside and grabbed a towel as quickly as he possibly could so his baby wasn’t cold (●´ω｀●)

but then he would just:: “y/n are you cold??? we’re going up to my room and you’re gonna change immediately go through my drawers and find something you like please”

he grabbed your hand and dragged your ass inside and shoved you into his room to change as he giggled his heart out thinking about the scenario that just happened

he waited outside the door for you and he just “KEJDKZJ Y/N YOU LOOK SO CUTE!” as soon as you walked out

renjun ran up to you and pinched your waist, he literally was gonna combust after seeing you in his clothes

he went full on ‘:DDDD !! ♡♡♡♡’ mode after that me too

you had thrown on your favorite shirt of his,, it was a little big on you but not too much and put on a pair of his shorts

once he was done crying over how cute you are tbh he never stopped

he pulled you into the most precious hug you two have every hugged

dispite him looking small next to nct,, the binch is still 5’8” and people seem to forget that but uhhh

he loves placing his head on the top of yours and swaying back and forth he could ACTUALLY live off of that

and that’s what he did for the next 10 minutes and just internally squealed

“i don’t think anyone has ever told you how gorgeous you truly are, y/n.”

you just went “KAHDLSHDJXH RENJUN shut up how are you so cute” and pat his head and he only chuckled ))): because he never says those things your heart went BOOM

it’s 80% hard love 20% soft

he looked at your cheekies for a second before returning eye contact 🤩

you would just smile at him silently and watch closely at what he does when he gets flustered because uGH it’s so cute

he becomes soft, squishes his tense shoulders up and smiles and tries to laugh the embarrassment away

then out of nowhere he just,,,, smirked and literally shOVEd you onto the bed just two feet behind you

and probably jump on you once you got on the bed

then just laughed at you suffer

“you asshole” you grunted trying to get him oFF OF YOU he then rolled his eyes and smiled wow me too

“okay assholess”

you know that wide ass cute ass most precious ass smile that he does????? yeah he did that one. THAT one. TH A T ™︎ one. you physically died at that moment

“you love me” you said

he said,,,,,, “yes, i do, y/n... i love you.”

AND YOU CHOKED AND SPIT OUT YOUR NONEXISTENT WATER THIS WAS RHE FIRST I LOVE YOU WKFHXKSHE

it was a very casual i love you, but his face really showed that he did (((‘: you know that heart eye emoji right yeah he looked like that

“i love you too, dumbass.” you lightly punched him on the shoulder as he smiled wide

he then turned around so his head was on your tummy. those were his favorite types of hugs. your left hand was in his hand as your other rubbed his scalp and played with his hair. he loved when you did that ugh bb boy ):

after a while of casual conversation and your hair air drying from the pool, you started to whine because uh ow a human laying on you for a while hurts and you also wanted hugs )))):

he instantly knew you wanted a huggy heheehehehheeh he knows that when you’re desperate for love you start to whine and get cranky

he rolled his way to your left side and scooted you closer to his chest. he wrapped his cute lil armies around your waist and nuzzled his head in the crook of your neck ))))); how cute is he this isn’t fair i want a renjun

he peppered soft, lil wet kisses on your shoulder to your neck going up to your cheek and he did that maybe twice or three times

it made your heart pump out of your rib cage. he’s never done that before

out of nowhere he stopped and lifted his head

and when you didn’t feel him move for a while you turned your head to be met with a pair of eyeballs squinting because of how hard he was smiling it was easily the cutest sight you’ve ever seen wow

so uh y’all were just laying there and staring at each other now as you turned to face him

his smile began to grow and he just kept looking at you

his mind wouldn’t stop racing. one second he was mentally sobbing over your cute lil smile and the next he wanted to cup your cheeks and give you the biggest kisses in the world

but the thing is that renjun likes to take his time,,, and you like to take your time too. so it’s slow, but you both thought it was better that way. sooo that means you guys still have yet to kiss on the lips hehe

you were fed up now and just want to kiss him but shh we don’t talk about that

spoiler alert: kissy time

he scooted closer to you and held you tighter, his face was closer to yours. you squished your face into your pillow and finaLLY SCOOTCHING UNDER THE COVERS because uhhh there wasn’t that much space between you two

“you’re so cute what the fUCK,” he mumbled to himself as his smile reappeared once again

BDOCHKSHF YOUR HEA R T WENT BOOM 2.0 WOW WHAT A LOVER BOY who knew

his expression changed all of a sudden. he was no longer smiling, his eyes kept shifting from your eyes to your lips as you talked about the drama at work, something about your lips was unrealistic today. he couldn’t stop looking as hard as he tried

he cut you off mid sentence to say, “i’m sorry, but i really really really want to kiss you right now,,” so softly. your face went as red as a tomato man

he couldn’t look you in the eyes as you stared at him. he kept on looking at your lips and your stomach kept doing these flips

“do it.”

“what?”

“kiss me.”

you both sat up. THIS IS IT THIS IS IT THIS IS IT just kept repeating in your mind

he tried to hide a smile as he took your head in his hands. he leaned in in the slowest way poSSIBLE WTH which made him smirk because uhhh that means you do want to kiss him too

he finally looked you in the eyes before your lips met

his lips felt chapped but so soft at the same time. it was a slow kiss, but you can tell he really meant that he loved you when he said it

he put his hand under your chin and held your face up and you placed your hands on the side of his face hehehe

the kiss stayed at a slow pace and lasted for a while until you both had run out of breath

he smiled into the kiss toward the end and his eyes were s t i l l closed once you pulled away

when he opened them, he was met with your red as hell smiley face

“i really do love you y/n. i hope we can kiss more often hehehhehehe ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)”

“you really do like to ruin moments don’t you?”

“is that a threat or a compliment?”

you just laughed at him and shook your head

what a headass

“you should probably take a quick shower, cutie” he grabbed your hand and squeezed it

“only if i get cuddles afterwards again (((((((((;”

#nct #nct dream #nct scenarios #huang renjun #nct 2018 #nct renjun #renjun #fluff #nct fluff #nct imagine #soft imagine #renjunieee* #nct dream renjun #nct renjun scenarios #renjun scenarios #renjun soft imagine #nct soft imagine