#also I should start to post full body screens because their fits look nice ;;

[berisims]

Ｔｅａｍ Ｃｈａｏｔｉｘ

#ts4 #sonic heroes #vector the crocodile #espio the chameleon #charmy bee #team chaotix #back on my sonic shit #can you tell I like my guys pierced #I searched high and low for a rhino piercing for Espio but came out empty handed #I really wanted to replicate the lil' horn he has :( #also I should start to post full body screens because their fits look nice ;;

[prof-peach]

if fans wanted to include peach in stuff they write, would that be okay? and how would they write peach's personality? aside from "FIGHT ME" anyway, i think that much is a given lol. i only really write the anime characters 'cause that's what i know, but it sounds like it'd be kinda fun to try making a version of ash that fits into this blog's universe! nerf'd Obviously, but i think she'd probably appreciate how hands-on he gets when training his pokemon!

Ok, I get a lot of these messages, and I often hear folks wanting to throw peach into their stories and comics and writings, and I will always simply ask that if it’s published online publicly, to be linked to it so I can snoop and enjoy the content too. If someone asks about her in your work, let them know about the blog I guess? But literally I love that people take this stuff, these characters and stories, and make new stuff with it. No ones making money off my work here? So where’s the issue? Go for it buddy, knock yourself out, I’m all for it.

For you, and all the others out there who want to add peach, and other characters to your world building, I will give you a detailed rundown of the main lot, and how they behave, what they do, how they function. You can use that, use bits, or use none of it, I do not mind at all. If you’re creating something, you’re in control, not me.

So, peach doesn’t actually fight people as much as you’d think. She’s very aware most cannot and do not want to do that, and so she likes to keep to herself with regards to that aspect of her life, she doesn’t ask to spar with people, or even bring it up at all, but people ask her all the time, even if they clearly would lose or become hurt should she miscalculate during the fight. She looks at people like they usually create problems, and often has a somewhat reserved nature to other humans. You have to work quite hard to get anything more than formalities out of her. She will dead-pan handle people with blunt and very to-the-point statements, aid whenever possible, but very quickly get back to handling the Pokemon she so carefully tends. Her focus is clear, she’s all about hard work, her very small select family, and the Pokemon.

Her brutal, loud and brash personality only comes out with friends, family, difficult humans, OR any Pokemon. She will joke and laugh and play with Pokemon, but clam up around humans, maintaining tight body language and generally will be a little cold by regular standards. She does however have some weaknesses in this emotionless shield she puts up. When peach was young she was always angry, which swung so fast to sadness, back and forth. Her teenage years it just got worse and worse, it was crippling at points. She is to this day, full of fire and rage, even sadness, but now she has learnt to control it, to use it. When she sees that in others, it’s familiar, and she is pushed to drop the front, and be very real with the person. Underdogs I suppose, people who get bad reps, but deserve the same as everyone else. She can’t ignore it.

Once you start to pry open her personality, you’ll find she’s a lot more laid back and fun than originally appeared, you just have to work hard to find that side of her. She will meme reference, can’t dance to save her life, loves her coffee, and can be caught in quiet contemplation while gardening. This hobby is her calmest, and often is why she can stay so level headed when her quiet rage boils up again. Without time outside she will become grouchy, a little snippy, and lethargic. Will not go in the ocean for any reason other than life or death, is fine with ponds and rivers, or water at wading height. Likes the rain.

With regards to her training others, they usually have to tolerate her somewhat strict nature. She is a little....unforgiving, holds a grudge if you make a lot of mistakes, and has no tolerance for ignorance in the age of information that we all live in. In previous posts I’ve mentioned she’s only recently selected two students, after many years of testing kids who want to learn from her. Hundred tried out, only two have ever been approved. How she teaches is very fast paced, be prepared to get some scrapes and bruises, she will test your physical and emotional tolerances with intense tasks, carefully watching students like a hawk. Bad posture in your stance? She’ll be the first to tell you to sort it out. Not hearing your Pokemon partner? Right, now you spend the day without using words trying to communicate, let’s see how you like not being listened to.

This is a woman who has spent her life saying very little, and watching everything, she watches Pokemon and can see an issue from a mile off, and in battles, her observations are why she can react fast, and chose effective strategy to avoid damage and achieve results. Don’t let her body fool you, her strongest asset is analysing, watching, planning. Those skills have over the years transferred to people too. As a student, mistakes don’t go unnoticed with this professor.

Her methods are harsh but fair, and should you prove yourself, she will protect you with her life.

Because of her disinterest in kids and lots of noise, she does pass the training of students on to the other staff members whenever possible. Grey takes on the lions share of battle lessons, he is far calmer, more open and friendly, with patience for people, and an empathy that peach sometimes struggles to have. When you go through a lot of harsh training, and difficult events, it’s hard to change how you feel or think, with peach, well, she’s been through it. Most do not come out the other end in one piece, but she did, and it made her strong. You may think I mean strong like buff and big, and yeah sure she is, but I mean it mentally more than anything. Peach will not quit. She has learnt to destroy the boundaries that stop people getting hurt, gone is the fear that freezes you in your tracks, that feeling that you’ll pass out if you go one more step. She’s learnt to ignore it.

This means she’s a little forgetful at how it is to be normal, to be vulnerable and soft and squishy like students so usually are.

She has her issues, but for the most part, visitors get a laugh, a smile, a calm assertive confidence, and facts. She will indulge those who have genuine interest, or show a connection with nature, an understanding of the balance that needs to be struck for everyone to live well together.

Despite her many flaws, she’s fiercely protective, and will go above and beyond to defend the island, it’s staff, the Pokemon and the visitors. Injustice is her biggest gripe, along with littering, and she doesn’t stand by quietly if something happens that seems unfair.

You will not see her without Valka, her vulpix, close by. That Pokemon doesn’t like to be touched by strangers, at all, and will run the second someone comes at her with that intent. Peach will scold you for pushing yourself onto her, should you persistently try to get close to pet Val. They are in sync, if peach is sad, Val is sad, if Val is stressed, peach is stressed, and so on. They are inherently connected, it’s just been that long, the psychic bridge between them has been built, and reinforced over the years.

The only other Pokemon who follows her so endlessly is Booker, a teddiursa who’s pretty rough looking. He quietly trots behind, grouchy and stoic, they fight closely together a lot. He lost his mom a long time ago to poachers, and peach took him in, and changed her whole life for him. Not many people know, but Booker was the reason she left the rangers, changed career, and got so strong. Will tolerate people petting him but isn’t keen at all, grumbles a lot and tries to move away.

You may also need to know about the others, for the sake of writing, she here a few more bits that may be important to you, or others wanting to do this.

Grey is very tall, very burly, composed, tells bad dad jokes, is a bit of a goof if allowed to be. If he sees a pun, he’ll say it. Can’t help himself. Very nice guy to work with, good at keeping people calm and grounded. Pokemon are drawn to him like a moth to a flame, he gives off warm energy, and has inhuman amounts of patience. If you wrong his family however, he will snap back.

He grew up in the city, loves to swim and hike and cycle, can snowboard, is really sporty. A total brain box with held items, and boosting stats. He will explore many paths, to make sure visitors and students get the information they need, in a way that can be remembered and retained for later. Is a huge guy, but will get on the floor to play with a tiny Pokemon. Treats big “meaner” looking species like babies, very good with all pokemon.

His free time is spent either tinkering, swimming, or trimming his bonsai trees. This guy stares at screens a lot, so appreciates time away from them. Peach built him his own little greenhouse for his trees and tools, which he keeps clean and loves dearly.

His methods as a teacher are built around fun and games, he makes hard work easier to do by distracting trainers from the difficult bits, and focusing in on something more interesting or compelling.

His most commonly seen Pokemon would be a houndoom, Saxon, old battle veteran, retired now to herding and being a good boy. Very gentle, loves a pet.

Pari, now a fully fledged nurse, often oversees the labs front desk and pokecentre features, such as healing pokemon, and informing trainers who come to visit. Her skills with eggs and hatchlings is high, she’s great with younger Pokemon, and hands out good advice to trainers a lot. She’s not a fighter, never was, but can find any file, any study, any book, and any refrence you may need. A true bookworm, loves her romance novels, chat shows and upbeat celebrity gossip mags. Will cry at a lot of stuff, be it sad or happy.

She’s got a seriously upbeat personality, but if caught off guard or shocked, she gets a little flustered. Too much chaos will overwhelm her, but usually she’s on top of things. The years spent on the island have made her better at maintaining composure in emergencies. With lots of siblings, she’s very competent with others, and has a good ability to disarm cagey people with her jolly nature. Because of this, she can sometimes gain information from trainers that some of the more harsh professors may not have access to. Charming is a word for it.

Her partners are an eevee, and a happiny. They are quite sweet and well adjusted, the eevee gets a bit bouncy if you get it too excited.

#if you dont want to use the refs #im really cool with it #just enjoy yourself buddy #pokemon #prof.peach #peach talks #prof.grey #pari #dotaku island #dotaku staff #PLEASE #just ask me if you dont know something #or feel i missed something in what i wrote

[stennnn06]

supercorp 83

83- another sleepless night, huh? writing prompts

and here is the post reveal version of this prompt. i guess we could say it’s somewhere toward the finale, where instead of hand shakes and agreeing to take on lex, they actually ya know... make up. bonus (helpful?) andrea rojas because i do what i want.

Kara slams the backspace key of her laptop in frustration. She watches the letters of the few words she's written get swallowed whole, returning her to the beginning. It's almost midnight, and she's no closer to finishing this stupid article for Andrea than when she started. She sighs loudly, staring at the screen. She doesn't want to write about millennial fashion, or any fashion for that matter, but she has no choice. Andrea made it clear that she's on a limited beat, and an even tighter leash, and all of it is just impossible.

"Burning the midnight oil, Ms. Danvers?" Andrea's voice drifts over the quiet din. There's no one else in the office, which means no one to run interference from Andrea's prying eyes. Kara doesn't want to talk to her boss, and she definitely doesn't want to give an update. She wants to stew over her blank document in peace, and let her mind drift over more important things. She doesn't want to face Andrea's smiling scrutiny, or her sarcastic tone, or think about the way she reminds her so much of Lena that she wants to rip her own hair out.

Kara grits her teeth in frustration, nodding silently. "Yep," she mutters, keeping her face trained on her laptop. Andrea appears at her door in seconds.

"Well, you're just full of surprises, aren't you?"

Kara huffs. It's condescending, and she knows it. Andrea thinks she's lazy, and argumentative, and honestly, maybe she's right. Kara is tired of caring. She isn't here to please Andrea. She thought journalism was about something more -- about relentlessly pursuing a story no matter what, in order to expose the truth. Instead, she's writing about "athleisure" and answering reader questions about high waisted jeans. She ignores Andrea and glances at her phone. She hasn't had a text message in hours, not even from Alex. It's a quiet night in National City and she should be thankful, but really she's just anxious. There's a familiar name in her phone that hasn't reached out in so long, it's beginning to feel infinite. She doesn't know if she and Lena will ever get back to where they were, even if they aren't truly at odds anymore. Maybe there has been too much said, maybe there has been too much damage done. The lack of closure is enough to drive her to distraction. But her phone remains silent, with only the clock to keep her company.

11:45 and silent.

"I'm glad to see you working hard on this," Andrea says again, blithely unaware of Kara's attempts to deflect her conversation.

"Yep, just focused on this deadline," Kara says through gritted teeth, not even trying to hide her annoyance. Andrea only comes around when she wants something, so Kara braces for a bizarre request. She's not in the mood to play nice or get into an extended conversation, but she also can't afford to get fired.

Andrea pauses at the threshold, pursing her lips. Kara feels the way she lingers, but she chooses to ignore it.

"Can I give you some advice?" Andrea eventually asks, approaching slowly. It's rhetorical, Kara knows. She's going to say whatever she wants anyway. Kara's cheeks go hot. She wants to tell her to mind her business. That no, she's fine in the advice department, thanks. But instead, she simply looks up and offers a blank stare.

"Go see her," Andrea says directly. "Don't let time pass you by."

"What do you--"

"I've known Lena for longer than most--" Andrea interrupts. The way she says Lena's name stops Kara from arguing. "And I've hurt her more than anyone."

"I'm not sure about that," Kara mumbles, rolling her eyes.

"Trust me," Andrea insists. She takes a step in toward Kara's desk, which forces Kara's attention to float to her face. Andrea's eyes are cast down, and she chews on her lip the way she does when she's particularly displeased. "It pains me to say this, but I know how she feels about you."

"What do you mean?" Something shifts in Kara's chest at the suggestion.

Andrea's eyebrow raises sharply. "Don't make me spell it out, Kara. You're not as naive as everyone thinks."

"Okay," Kara gulps.

"She's already forgiven you," Andrea says matter-of-factly. "She just needs help admitting it."

"I don't know," Kara says, her heart rate picking up considerably. Can she really trust Andrea to be acting in her best interest? "Why are you helping me?"

"It's not for you," Andrea says sharply. She glances at her watch, clicking her tongue. She looks back at Kara, her mouth slightly open in exasperation. "What are you waiting for?"

Kara slaps her laptop closed. "Thanks, Andrea," she says, shouldering past her in an effort to get to the elevator before Andrea reconsiders.

"Thank me by finishing that article."

It's been ages since Kara has gone to Lena's apartment as herself. As Kara. She toys with the idea of landing on the balcony with her cape billowing slightly behind her, but it doesn't feel right. She doesn't want the crest. Not tonight.

She lands softly and discards the suit, opting for the front entrance. A new beginning, as herself. 

It's past midnight by the time she approaches, but Lena’s light is on, as always. Kara knocks softly.

There's a quiet rustling, and a muffled "Who is it?" behind the door. Kara clears her throat.

"It's me," she says, her voice cracking. "It's--"

The door opens before she can finish.

"Kara," Lena breathes, her eyes wide with surprise. "Is everything okay?"

"Hi," Kara says quickly. Her mouth is terribly dry. Sometimes she forgets just how stunning Lena is. Especially when she hasn't seen her for awhile. It's always unnerving, no matter how many times it happens. "Yes! Yes, everything is fine. I just noticed your light was on. Another sleepless night, huh?" Kara chuckles nervously, unsure what to do. She didn't actually plan before coming over here, which is glaringly obvious now that she's nervous and tongue tied.

"You seem surprised," Lena says softly, a teasing smile on her lips.  "Do you want to come in?"

"Thanks," Kara says, relieved. She follows Lena into her apartment, over to her couch. They haven't sat on it together since Kara thought they were still friends, when she tried to make up for her transgressions by bringing her all her favorite foods. The memory aches in her chest.

They sit in awkward silence, fidgeting amongst themselves until they both start speaking.

"I--"

"Kara--"

Lena's cheeks flush an attractive crimson, and Kara's entire body feels molten. They both bring their eyes sheepishly to the ground, careful to avoid disrupting each other again.

"You can go," Kara insists after a pause.

Lena studies her hands, working her fingers delicately. Her wrist flexes, and Kara is mesmerized. She always had the loveliest, most capable hands. Lena catches her eye finally.

"You aren't wearing your glasses," Lena muses, and it’s so unexpected that Kara unconsciously brings her hand to her eyes. It's a journey of emotions -- first, fear that she's forgotten something crucial, that she's showed up completely unprepared and wrong. But then the cold realization that there are no more walls between them, and what it means, settles in her gut. She lets her hand hang down slowly. "I'm still getting used to it," Lena explains softly.

"I'm sorry--"

"No," Lena shakes her head, smiling. "It's nice. I'm just-- I'm glad you came."

"Me too."

There's an awkward silence, and all Kara can hear is the humming of the dishwasher, an indicator that Lena's out of scotch tumblers. Which means she isn't doing so great, either.

"I wasn't ready to forgive you, before," Kara says, trying to square her shoulders and find the strength to confront this. "After everything, and all the lies, I just kept expecting you to let me down with another con. And you didn't. You just kept showing up, over and over, and I-- I wanted so badly to go back to how we were. But I didn't know if I could get hurt like that again."

"You didn't deserve that," Lena says, hanging her head.

"Neither did you."

"I got lost in the madness of it all. I've always been susceptible," Lena smiles wickedly, her self-deprecation on display. She sighs, her eyes softening. "Part of me kept waiting for you to rescue me."

Kara frowns, her pulse racing. "But I tried -- I did everything I knew how--"

Lena's mouth twitches, her chin quivering. "Not Supergirl." She swallows hard. "You."

Kara's mouth hangs open... She thinks of all the times after - how almost every single time she saw Lena after confessing her identity, she was National City's hero. She was Supergirl, and she was free of pretending -- but in the process, she was someone unknown. It was always heavy, their interactions always pleading and begging on behalf of greater interests, never just them.

"Lena," Kara's voice quivers. "But it was always me."

"Was it?"

Kara hesitates. She isn't sure how to answer that.

"What did you say when you told me why you kept it from me for so long?" Lena asks, her eyes welling with tears. "I was so angry at Supergirl-- but I loved Kara." Lena hesitates, taking a watery breath. "I've always loved Kara."

It hits like a hurricane, and Kara has to remember how to breathe. She inhales sharply. Lena doesn't say anything more.

"And now?" Kara whispers.

"And now," Lena says, smiling through her emotions. "Nothing about that has changed."

Kara's eyes fill with tears. She stands, opening her arms. She doesn't want to talk anymore. She just wants them to fall back into place, fitting together the way they did before. Lena melts into her arms and lets out a sob as she clutches Kara's back.

"I love you, too," Kara whispers into the space between her ear and her neck, holding her as close as possible. "Always."

#supercorp #this is like if you watched ep 1 and then the supercorp fall out ep and then skipped to the end lmao #writing prompts #thanks for sending! #Anonymous #sten says

[multi-fandom-freak0221]

The Shell of a Girl that I Used to Know Well

Inspired by "Love of three" by @misashabunbun

Thank you @thestressmademedoit and @maleive07 for helping me find the fic.

So this turned out to be longer than I thought it would be (probably because I based it around like 5 songs) so I'll break it into parts and post each part separately. Oh and did I mention this is songfic? Because it's a songfic! No Felix yet, but you guys do see Peter but I surprise surprise I turned this into an OT4 pairing. Anyone wanna guess who the other lucky person is to date Mari, Peter and Felix? Also bonus points for anyone who can figure out Mari's stage name.

The song in this part in Stitches by Shawn Mendes and The Lonely by Christina Perri is where I got this parts title from. Also the song mentioned at the end is Partners in Crime by Set It Off ft Ashley Costello.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng was grateful for the quiet she found in what she was pretty sure was some kind of presentation room. There was a raised platform which she believes is supposed to be some kind of stage and a couple of tables with chairs surrounding them. She still has no idea how she got here, she was just trying to find some peace. She knew her pseudo Uncle and her friends meant well but they were suffocating her. It's been over a week since she left that bastard, not likely that he even noticed. Since Marinette has gotten to Stark Towers everyone has been treating her like she's about to break and she can't stand it. Yes she's hurt, but like give her a chance to fall apart before trying to shove her back together again! Marinette took a deep breath to calm herself as she sat on the little stage to work on the embroidery she was putting on the back of the blouse. She already had a full heart there but it was kind of plain. She wanted to add something but she didn't know what. 

She sighed softly. At times she really missed Tikki being around to be her second opinion. 

Ever since the defeat of Hawkmoth the kwamis asked to be renounced and to have their respective jewelry return the Miraculous box. They were working together to heal poor Nooroo and Dusuu. Even though Marinette had been able to fully fix the peacock Miraculous, as well as heal Emilie Agreste and Nathalie Sancour from the effects of using a broken Miraculous, the two kwamis had to deal with a significant amount of emotional trauma from the whole affair. 

Even though the final battle had been won quietly without casualties it had taken a lot out of everyone who had been a part of it. Adrien's relationship with his father has been very strained to say the least. Even though Gabriel is doing his best to right his wrongs, it goes to say that the only reason Adrien even speaks to his father at all is because of his mother who is desperately trying to make up for years lost between the two of them.

While Marinette was trying to think of an idea for her embroidery she started humming a song she had heard recently on the radio. In her eyes it fit her past relationship with Damian Wayne perfectly. Soon enough she was singing softly.

I thought that I've been hurt before

But no one has ever left me quite this sore.

Even on their worst days Lila's lies, Alya's beratings, hell even Mlle. Bustier's looks of disappointment never hurt half as much as Damian's total disinterest did. She had cooked him a nice romantic dinner yet he barely acknowledged her. More interested in whatever, or should she say whoever, was on his phone. After 5 mins of trying to carry the conversation alone Marinette sighed and just decided to eat the meal she worked so hard on. After 10 mins of stiff silence in their shared apartment, only filled with the sounds of Marinette eating and Damian texting, the latter got up. Grabbing his coat he made his way to the door, barely turning his head towards his fiancee to call out "I've got to go. Something came up at work."

Marinette wasn't even shocked anymore, just resigned. Still she tried to reason with the man she no longer recognized. Sometimes she wonders if she ever truly knew him at all. "You just got here. Isn't there someone else who can handle it? You haven't even touched your dinner."

True to her words, the young heir's meal sat completely untouched, quickly cooling in the AC.

"Mari, you know these things are important. Not just anyone can handle them." Damian's words were patronizing at best. It frustrated the young designer, but she didn't let it show.

"Will you be back tonight?" She knew the answer but she asked anyway.

Damian hummed noncommittally as he walked through the door still looking at his phone and not the beautiful young lady in front of him. "Most likely not. Don't wait up for me." He quickly walked out, closing the door behind him. Marinette quickly placed her ear to the door as he walked away from the humble abode. She could hear him on the phone.

"Yeah. I'm on my way, gorgeous. I just left." Silence. "No, she doesn't suspect a thing." Nothing but his footsteps as he continues to leave unknowing of her distress behind the apartment "Perfect. The less you're wearing, the better."

Marinette crumbled to the floor after she could no longer hear him. She had suspected as much but that didn't make hearing it less painful. 

Your words cut deeper than a knife

Now I need someone to breathe me back to life

She remembers the first time he truly yelled at her. The way he looked at her with disgust. The way she flinched away from his imposing figure and his cutting words. If tried hard enough she could delude herself that he was doing this out of her best interest. The illusion made even easier to believe by the way he apologized and hugged her after he stopped yelling. The way he told her he was worried about her going out and being made a target to Rogues because of her connection to him. The way he feared that he disguises wouldn't be enough even though he himself didn't recognize her at first when she walked back through the apartment door the day. She believed she was safer staying in the apartment because he said so and he only wants what's best for her. So eventually the walls of their apartment was all she saw 24/7. For her safety of course. 

Got feeling that I'm going under

But I know I will make it out alive

If quit calling you my lover

And move on

Marinette's head was spinning. Or was it the room? Was she even breathing? She couldn't focus on any of that. All she could focus on was the picture sitting on the screen on her phone. The phone Damian had bought her. The idea made her feel sick now because all those gifts he was giving her now seemed to have double meanings. Especially when the picture filling her screen was of a naked Lila whose body was hidden behind a sheet lying on Damian's bare chest while he slept. She didn't even think to process how the lying bitch managed to get her number. Instead all she could focus on was tears streaming down her face as she felt her heart shatter. She didn't even process the fact that she left the phone right there with the picture still on the screen and started packing her stuff. She grabbed everything that was hers that she bought herself, later on she'd be surprised at how little that was. She stuffed her things in a small suitcase, put the miracle box in a duffle bag wrapped in her leftover fabric from commissions, grabbed her purse with her wallet and left. After locking the apartment door she slid the key underneath the door so he could have it back. He could have everything back he ever gave her. She was done. She was so distressed she didn't even notice that she had put on the one disguise she had and taken a train to New York until she was standing in the lobby of Stark Tower with her Uncle Tony and her Aunt Pepper holding her while she sobbed.

You watch me bleed until I can't breathe

I'm shaking, falling onto my knees

And now that I'm without your kisses

I'll be needing stitches

Tripping over myself

Aching, begging you to come help

And now that I'm without your kisses 

I'll be needing stitches

Marinette was so engrossed in the lyrics, in her feelings, that she didn't notice the tears falling from her eyes, nor the way she was furiously embroidering the shirt in her hands. And she definitely didn't notice that she had gained an audience.

Just like a moth drawn to a flame

Yeah you lured me in and I couldn't sense the pain

The first time she met Damian it had been an accident. She knew when her classes started she wouldn't have the time to get the fabrics she needed for her last commissions that she agreed to before going on hiatus. She knew juggling her business and school would be hard so told her clients she'd be on break for the unforeseeable future. She was so focused on her phone trying to make sure her list was complete, that she didn't notice the man right in front of her.

"Oh!" She fell back with a little yelp and when she saw what, or who, she ran into she hurried to help them up as well. "I'm so sorry monsieur. Are you okay?"

The man yanked his hand away from her and growled, "You wouldn't be having to ask if you weren't caught up in whatever idiotic nonsense is on your phone."

Marinette fumed silently. "Well excuse me sir, I don't know who you think you are, but that is uncalled for. I apologized and helped you up. All you had to do was walk away. No need to be so rude."

Damian raised an eyebrow at her curiously. "You don't know who I am?"

Marinette crossed her arms still annoyed. "Am I supposed to? You could be the president for all I cared and I still would say you were being rude and disrespectful."

Damian's expression changed slightly to a bit of amused intrigue. "I apologize. I thought you were another fangirl with some kind of ruse to get my attention. If you don't mind me asking, what is a girl like you doing in a city like Gotham? I can tell from your accent you are not from here."

Marinette relaxed a little bit. "I'm here going to college when the semester starts, but right now I was out doing some shopping."

"Perhaps I could join you as a way to apologize for my rude behavior. I could give you a mini tour along the way." Damian smiled softly at her.

"I don't know," apprehension was clear on Marinette's face. "I don't even know you let alone your name."

Damian chuckled lightly. "I assure you, even if you don't know me, the rest of the city does. I won't be able to get away with doing anything to you without being plastered across every newspaper and magazine in town, Angel. But my name is Damian by the way. Damian Wayne." He grabbed her hand and kissed it softly after his introduction.

"A-angel?" Marinette stuttered as she blushed.

"Well, I still don't know your name."

Marinette smiled before introducing herself. "My name is Marinette. Your company would be much appreciated, Damian"

Your bitter heart cold to the touch

Now I'm going to reap what I sow

I'm left seeing red on my own

Sometimes on nights like these Marinette wondered what she did wrong. Because it had to be her of course. Why else would Damian go from her caring, charming, wonderful, Dove to Gotham's very own cold, unfeeling, ruthless, Ice Prince. 

"Hi, Damian. You're home early." Marinette tried not to let the hope seep into her voice. She had a feeling she wasn't successful.

Damian barely grunted at her as he continued to their room. "My idiots brothers dragged me into spending some time with them so I'm forced to change into something less formal."

"Oh okay." She knew she did an even worse job of hiding her disappointment. "You know I finished Uncle Jagged's outfit the other day. He loved it."

Damian hummed noncommittally. She knew he wasn't paying attention, he never was but she kept trying.

"You know how he's doing that "World's Greatest" Tour. Celebrating the hero's of the world in their respective cities. Luka's been opening for him. His career has really taken off. Hell I'm sure half the tickets Uncle Jagged sells are people just trying to see Luka. He'll have to tour solo soon."

"I bet." Damian's voice was muffled from being the closet, but she could still hear the disinterest in his voice.

She sighed as she leaned against the doorframe of "their" room. It was only theirs in name the fact that his clothes were there. She spent almost every night there alone. She took a deep breath trying to gather her courage for what she was going to ask. "Well they wanted to thank me for the outfits. Claimed the tour would have been half as successful without them. They invited me to take me out to dinner tonight to catch up, then for me to hang out backstage during their show. They said they missed me." Marinette hoped he still wasn't paying attention, but as soon as he settled his famous glare on her, she knew she wasn't that lucky. She flinched into herself under his gaze.

"Marinette. You know what would happen if you left this apartment. The famous Wayne Heir's sweet vulnerable fiance. The one never seen in the media anymore. You would get off this block before your picture would be on every media outlet in the city. Then you would be the Rogues target for the night. They would go anywhere you would be. Including the concert. Would you really be so selfish to endanger hundreds, possibly thousands of innocent concert goers just to 'hang out' with people you can see any time you please?" The disappointment on his face and the coldness of his delivery had her feeling ashamed. She hung her head low trying to hold back the tears. 

"I'm sorry." She knew her voice was barely above whisper, but if she tried to speak any louder she knew she'd open the flood gatesp.

Damian brushed past her. "You should be. I'll be heading to the concert with my brothers. I'll inform Jagged of your apologies for not coming."

"Just telling him I'm sick." She offered weakly still not looking up from the floor.

She could feel his judgeful look on her. "Of course not. He'll insist on coming to check on you then he'll see your lying. I'll tell him you're busy with commissions." He left her standing there as headed to leave again. She heard his phone ring and he answered it harshly. "I'm coming down, Todd!" "Of course not, you imbecile! She's a serious designer who can't be bothered out of her schedule to spend time with my idiotic brothers, especially when she's up to her nose in commissions!" She heard the door shut after that statement. I guess her soon to be brothers in law didn't know the real reason behind her lock down either. She stood there for a few more moments before she broke down into loud heavy sobs. She collapsed to her knees and just cried. Not for the first nor last time in that prison she called an apartment.

Got feeling that I'm going under

But I know I will make it out alive

If quit calling you my lover

And move on

You watch me bleed until I can't breathe

I'm shaking, falling onto my knees

And now that I'm without your kisses

I'll be needing stitches

Tripping over myself

Aching, begging you to come help

And now that I'm without your kisses 

I'll be needing stitches

Needle and the thread 

Gotta get you out my head

Her hands were moving furiously as she was trying to rid her mind of her cruel ex.

Needle and the thread

Gonna wind up dead

She wanted to forget everything about him.

Needle and the thread 

Gotta get you out my head

His smile, his laugh, the loving look in his eyes.

Needle and the thread

Gonna wind up dead

His kisses, his hugs, the way he held her like he was afraid of losing her

Needle and the thread 

Gotta get you out my head

His scowl, his glare, his need to hide her from the world

Needle and the thread

Gonna wind up dead

His distance, his apathy, the way he was happy in any other girl's arms but her's

Needle and the thread 

Gotta get you out my head

Get you out of my head.

She wanted to forget loving him and hating him. She wanted her happiness back

You watch me bleed until I can't breathe

Shaking, falling onto my knees

And now that I'm without your kisses

I'll be needing stitches

Tripping over myself

Aching, begging you to come help

And now that I'm without your kisses 

I'll be needing stitches

And now that I'm without you kisses

I'll be needing stitches

I'll be needing stitches.

As she finished singing she awoke from her haze. She felt the tears on her face and wiped them away before looking to see what she had made. The simple heart from before now had a jagged line down the middle that stopped a quarter of the way to the bottom to represent a break. From the bottom it looked like the heart was dripping. The most noticeable change was the crude yet tasteful stitches that laid over the break in the heart. They weren't neat as if she were suggesting they were professionally done. The way she laid them subconsciously represented as if they were self done by someone trying their best.

While she was studying her impromptu embroidery a voice surprised her. "It looks nice."

She looked up in shock to see a brown haired boy around her age, 21 maybe 22, sitting at the table closest to the stage she was on. He looked as if he had been there for a while.

"Sorry I didn't mean to scare you. I heard you singing so I came to see who it was because you have a beautiful voice, but then I saw you crying and I wanted to make sure you were okay, but you seem really focused and I didn't want to interrupt, but I didn't want to just leave you either, but- I'm sorry I'm rambling. My name is Peter. Are you okay?" The boy, Peter, asked her softly, looking concerned. For Marinette it was enough.

She had sat in the chair next to him and finally let out everything she was holding in. The tears were flowing freely now "I don't know. I'm so mad, so hurt, so confused. Where did it go wrong? One minute I'm getting my business degree at Gotham University, the next I'm in a relationship with Damian Wayne. It was amazing he was so kind and sweet and loving and he made me so happy. Then next thing I know after dating for about a year and half he proposes. I'm on cloud 9 and I say yes and I'm so excited for what's to come, but suddenly everything changes. Next thing I know he's saying I can't leave the apartment because he wants me to be safe from the Rogues and I accepted it. Then he's yelling at me for trying to sneak out and I'm thinking I deserve it. I should have just stayed home and he's already apologizing for yelling. Then suddenly he's gone more and more. He's never home and I'm alone and it hurts. Then suddenly I'm selfish for asking to go out to see my friends because how can I put everyone at risk just to go see some friends who I can see anytime I want. Yet nobody is ever allowed over. But I still believe he's right. How can I be So now I'm alone and miserable and it hurts because he keeps getting further and further from me and I'm starting to suspect what's going on but I'm too scared to ask him because if he confirms it, then everything I believed in is a lie and I couldn't live with that. But I didn't even have to ask because soon someone is sending me a picture and it's the girl who made my school life hell by taking everyone I thought was my friend away from me with a few far fetched lies, and here she is laying naked on my fiance's naked chest as he sleeps. And I know he knows who she is and what she did to me because I told him. Yet he doesn't care because here he is fucking her while I'm at home all the time because he told me to be. So I grabbed my stuff and left everything he ever got me and just left. So here I am miserable staying with my Uncle Tony trying not to think about the asshole while my friends try to help me feel better yet I feel terrible because I loved the jerk and I still kinda do and I still have the engagement ring which I should pawn, but it was Bruce's mom's ring and that would be wrong and Bruce would be devastated. Why do I care so much about him and his family when he couldn't be bothered with me?" She felt better after finally letting it all out. She hadn't cried since she came to Uncle Tony. Not when Adrien arrived with Kagami, Marc, and Nathaniel, not when Luka arrived with Uncle Jagged and not even when Chole and Alix arrived. All her friends and pseudo family were there yet she hadn't cried once, nor had she actually told them the full story. But here this stranger asked if she was okay and she let it flow like Niagara Falls.

If Peter was shocked by her rant he didn't let it show. Instead he placed a hand on her before speaking softly "Because you are an amazing person who is a million times better than him. He is insane to choose anyone over you especially someone so foul as a desperate liar. I just met you, but I can already tell that you are a kind hearted, talented girl and anyone would be lucky to have you in their lives and I can tell by the crowd over there by the door that you have many people standing with you who already figured that out." Marinette looked up at his words to see her friends and pseudo uncles and their respective wives standing in the door. 

"Hi guys." As soon as Marinette finished speaking they all rushed towards her. Adrien reached her first pulling her into a tight hug.

"Oh bugaboo, I'm so sorry you had to go through this. Are you okay? Why didn't you tell us, princess?" He buried his face in her neck purring slightly in a way that calmed her.

"I guess I was still processing everything kitty. He really had me thinking he loved me and to find out he didn't was a hard blow." She confessed quietly.

"He'll meet my blade for hurting you, Mari," Kagami seemed to have Chole, Alix and surprisingly, Marc ready to back her. 

"No, Gami, I just want to get over him. He's not worth it." Mari remarked sadly before smiling at her friends. "But thank you, all of you, for having my back."

There were various "Of course" and "Always" that were heard among the group before Tony Stark cleared his throat. "Marinette let me properly introduce Peter Parker, my intern. Peter, this is my niece Marinette Dupain-Cheng also known as MDC owner and head designer of Miracle Designs."

Peter looked star struck. "I love your work. You make the coolest clothes on the planet."

Marinette blushed lightly. "Thank you, Peter. Uncle Tony told me much about you and I was always impressed. You're nothing short of a genius." Marinette missed Peter's blush as she started introducing her friends to him, but Tony didn't.

"This is Adrien Agreste, former model and Physics major. This is Kagami Tsurugi, world champion fencer. This is Luka Couffanie, singer songwriter signed under Jagged Stone. They're dating. This is Nathaniel Kurtzberg and Marc Anciel creators of Miraculous Tales comic. They're engaged. This is Chole Bourgeois, the best lawyer in all of France and probably Europe. And this is Alix Kubdel, X Games Winner, and famous archeologists. These two are also engaged. I'm sure you know Jagged Stone and his manager and also his wife, Penny." 

"You guys are amazing! None of you look much older than me yet you're already so successful! What is in the water in Paris? Some kind of talent steroids?" Peter was amazed.

"Speaking of talent," Luka turned towards Marinette. "Melody why didn't you tell me you could sing like that?" Soon everyone was agreeing that she was an excellent singer.

Marinette was bright red. "It's no big deal guys. I was just singing to myself, I wasn't expecting an audience."

Jagged took his chance to pull his pseudo niece into a hug. "Nettie, my girl you have got to let me sign you. It would be so rocking to have talent like yours produced under my label!"

"No way Uncle Jagged! I'm not even that good!" Marinette began protesting before Luka put a hand on her shoulder.

"How about this? I need some vocals for a song I wrote and no matter how much I love them, my dear boyfriend and girlfriend can not sing." Adrien and Kagami looked at each other before shrugging. No point denying it. "How about you feature in my new single under an alias and if it's hit you'll give an album a try?"

Marinette looked around at some of the most important people in the world to her before sighing and agreeing.

"Alright. But no promises that this will be hit. I'm really not that good. You guys are just biased."

Alix ruffled Marinette's hair. "Whatever you say, DC. Now let's go play some UMS3!"

As everyone was heading out to find a room large enough for all of them Peter prepared to go back to work on a project until Marinette turned back to him with a huge smile and bright eyes. "Come on Peter! Come play with us." 

How could he say no to that? So he came along.

A couple weeks later Luka's single "Partners in Crime" featuring Neon Titanium hit number one on the charts. And the most searched inquiry on Google for 3 days following was "who is Neon Titanium?" Needless to say Marinette was busy for the next couple months. Especially after Luka dropped a music video which she starred in as well wear a full face mask to stay hidden.

#maribat salt #maribat #spideybug #felinette #past Mari x Dami #marivenger #ex daminette #neon titanium #moving on

[smolbeandrabbles]

Penguin, James Penguin - Killian x Reader (Spies in Disguise)

Alternate Title: ‘I Wish I Was James Bond’

Holiday Fic 5! 🐧🐧

@wltz-bby​ @happyskywhale​

@xxstar-bluesxx​ - From one Killian Stan, to another 😉

Author’s Note: It is EXACTLY a year since I saw this movie for the first time. 

I had way too much fun writing these two again, safe to say I missed them a lot 🥰🥰

Not joking, this plot has been in my notes since January - and I was like “Well I missed my chance completely with the song and everything!” It’s too good not to pass up!!

Reader character from my SiD series/prequel? You betcha! 😉 But this time we’re writing for them post-movie!

Also playing into the rehabilitation program / Agent!McFord storyline here. So I hope, Killian Stans, that he’s been worth the wait to come back to you. And that I’m ticking a bunch of boxes. 

Note: Whilst the song itself certainly has a Christmas theme, the fic does not. At all.

Penguin, James Penguin - Brad Paisley

I Wish I Was James Bond - Scouting For Girls

Disclaimer: SiD & all associated characters not mine / basically taking the same idea as everyone else and slightly subverting expectations, because it wouldn’t be my fic if I didn’t / you don’t necessarily have to read ‘Mine’ to ‘Fresh Start Fever’ to understand this but it might help / lyrics & gifs not mine. 

Premise: In an attempt to figure out how Walters Bio-molecular tech works, Killian ends up getting it wrong with disastrous (hilarious) results...

Words: 6793

Warnings: Christmas themed lyrics/No Christmas themed fic / if you squint there’s some slight sexual banter at the end there / 

______

I've got another story That I bet you haven't heard Did you know that Santa Has a secret agent bird From an undisclosed location He's watching me and you He's got satellite uplinks in his cufflinks Yeah he sees everything you do He's Penguin, James Penguin That dapper little guy Like a well dressed duck in a three piece tux He's Santa's secret spy Not so very long ago Santa didn't need much help But with more and more kids every year He soon got overwhelmed He told the elves one Christmas We can't do this anymore Then a knight in shining polyester Waddled through his door And it was Penguin, James Penguin He was there to save the day He had wireless And GPS outfitted on the sleigh And Santa said Penguin Won't you be my ears and eyes How'd you like to help me run My SCFBI He's Penguin, James Penguin And now I guess you've heard How Santa got his little Christmas Secret Agent Bird

---

I've seen you walk the screen, it's you that I adore Since I was a boy I wanted to be like Roger Moore A girl in every port, and gadgets up my sleeve The world is not enough for the both of us it seems Hello Mr Bond, I've been expecting you Martini in your hand, and that eyebrow that you move Don't take this the wrong way, I know it might sound odd I'm the next double-0, I'm the right man for the job I wanted to be you, I wanted to be you I wanted to be someone else And I wish I was James Bond Just for the day Kissing all the girls, blow the bad guys away And I wish I was James Bond Just for the day Kissing all the girls, blow the bad guys away And I wish I was James Bond Just for the day Kissing all the girls, blow the bad guys away Roger and Sean and Timmy and George And Daniel and Pierce and maybe one day me

---

The light grey clouds rolled over the mountains on the horizon line. By the colour alone you suspected that you were due heavy snowfall. Up in a mountaintop hideaway you were growing used to such things... no bright blue sky today.

You folded your arms with a sigh; still, a little bit of sunshine would be nice.  

KiTT - your assistance drone - beeped every so often as he moved about the room, doing the odd task. Other than that, the house was silent, for now. Your eyes hovered on the helicopter outside and then back to the clouds; would there be a chance of getting out of here for the next few days? You knew cars would be out of the question, it was treacherous even in snow fairing vehicles... Note to self: Next time choose a boyfriend whose idea of a home is not a typical villain’s hide out. Although you supposed it fit his role in all this. At least to the Agency. Things had changed a lot since Killian had tried to take everyone out with his own drones, but they were still very wary of him. You found yourself tasked with keeping him straight - you weren’t sure they understood your relationship. But agreed anyway.

  Having finished his tasks and now bored, KiTT whirred his way back over to you, beeping his greeting. Blue lights flashing.  You shook your head at him, “What would you have me do? I’ve given you everything I had on my list, why don’t you ask him if he needs any help?” KiTT’s next series of bleeps had you laughing; “I’m sure he didn’t mean to kick you out like that. K just needs to concentrate. You can get pretty loud!”  Your drone protested, which only made you giggle. Especially as he tried to make the argument that he couldn’t possibly be any worse than the rest of them. 

KiTT had a point: the drones that the Agency had let you take back now helped both you and Killian with lab work - amongst other things – and, with your own expertise in AI, each now had their own distinctive personality just as KiTT did. Sometimes you regretted that decision. Although they couldn’t have been further from his blue and silver finish; in sleek black and red lights. Fitting for your significant other maybe, but it made little sense to you for the Agency to have given them such colours. (And if you were honest, KiTT looks a damn sight better, but you supposed there was a bit of favouritism in that comment.) “Oh, yeah. Cuz nothing says evil robot quite like red lights.” Killian couldn’t clap back at that, KiTT was exclusively blue. “I didn’t design it.” “I know. Which begs the question, why the Agency was building an assassination drone.” He folded his arms, “Well they don’t care, do they?” Protection by any means necessary. Stop the bad guys by any means necessary. “Well...” You raised your eyebrows and tipped your head in agreement. He’d know a lot about that alright... 

You found yourself looking back to the clouds and sighed, “You could always go check the weather for me if you’re really that desperate. Or if you could figure out a really quick weather changing machine?” If you could count KiTT’s next sound as a scoff you would, before blue lights ran across his body to let you know he was contacting weather satellites for you.

 The sudden crash behind you snapped you both from caring about the weather. It was followed by a slightly smaller - but still loud – one, and then silence again. You immediately started towards the labs, “On second thought, sounds like I should have just asked you to go straight to him!” 

**

When you both got down there it was a little hard to tell what had happened. At first it looked like nothing too serious; work surfaces scattered with tools, screens full of science mechanics... until you spotted the broken glass beakers and liquid running across the surface of a worktop, dripping onto the floor. “K?!” He didn’t appear to be in here, and yet none of his drones were either, which made you think it also hadn’t been them to make this mess. Or they’d made themselves scarce. You turned the lights up a little further and kept walking, cautiously. Well - for one thing, the floor was now covered in broken glass and curious liquids… they should probably be tidied up at the very least. Good thing your drone was in a working mood. There was another sound from further in the lab that made you jump, and you turned towards it. KiTT made a sound of worry. “Hush, clear this away, I got it.” He beeped again, “I’ll be FINE. Cybernetic, remember!?” KiTT’s next beep caused you to glare at him, “Don’t use that tone with me-!” 

You made your way carefully over to the noise, stepping around the glass that had been spat all over the floor. You were sure it’d made its way to unknown reaches of the lab, and you should be careful where you were stepping. Sure, you wouldn’t bleed, but thanks to the upgrades it’d still hurt.  When you turned the corner, you came face to face with a huddled form. Your head tilted curiously; eyebrow raised. You recognised it alright: but it was more the mystery of how it got in here. It might well have been the source of the crash - after all, you wouldn’t think a penguin to be very careful in a lab. You were just thinking about how you were supposed to catch it and then tell your partner: “Well, a penguin got into the house, and then your lab somehow, and destroyed all your research. Sorry about that-!”, when it turned towards you and-

  “AGH-!!” This time you didn’t jump, although both of you were startled. Your eyes widened even further as you stared at him, on the verge of collapsing into laughter. “K?!” The laugh wavered in your voice and you tried to swallow it back, “What did you do?” Killian was very blunt about it; “Turned myself into a penguin, alright. Are you happy now?” “How?” - Trying not to laugh was having the opposite effect and he sighed. “Go on, laugh-!” You did, but still tried to make it muted, before taking a deep breath, “What the hell...? Did you try to copy Walter’s formula-!?” “Well, it didn’t work did it-!” “They are all pigeons; although this is appropriate for our living conditions.” You crouched beside him, “...I gotta say, it’s very cute.” “Shut up!” You knew, were he still human, he’d be red with both anger and embarrassment by now.  You reached out to delicately touch his feathers; it seemed, just like Sterling managed to retain the bow tie, Killian would retain the outlines of his suit. He swatted your hand away and hissed; “Stop it!” “Just take the antidote. I mean, it’s all over the desk, but I’m sure we can salvage some of it. I assume you are trying for a pigeon, right? Or maybe you aren’t; gotta say I prefer penguins.”  “Thanks.” He responded dryly.  You only grinned your ‘you’re welcome’ and then stood to walk back to his desk; even if KiTT had managed to clear everything by now, if Killian had all the data, creating another batch of antidote shouldn’t take too long, and you could enjoy him as a penguin for a few minutes... or hours... more. “No! Wait! Y/N!” He hissed again, flippers grabbing your leg. “What?” Killian gave you a look of significance. Your eyes narrowed; “You took it without making an antidote!?!” “I took it accidentally!! And I had an antidote, it just wasn’t perfected-! Now I’m stuck as a flightless bird-!” “Deadly in water though.” You mused, tilting your head – that was not well received. Killian grumbled, huffing something under his breath. “So, this isn’t Walter’s formula?” “No!” Although it didn’t look like he was prepared to admit it. And you weren’t sure exactly how he managed to take it ‘accidentally’. “I did it myself!” “Well, this part worked.” You continued walking though, which made him waddle after you as fast as he could, “WHERE ARE YOU GOING!?!” “Uhm, to get Walter. He’ll be able to fix this-!” “No!!” He got ahead of you and tried to push you backwards, you halted; you supposed you understood why he wouldn’t want to admit what he’d done. You thought Walter would actually love that Killian’s formula was at least correct, even if he couldn’t reverse it yet. “What are you going to do Killian? Perfect the antidote as a Penguin? Think about this-!” “I AM!” “Rationally.” You stooped again and gathered him in your arms, to which he squirmed until you set him on a clear desk. “He’s the only one who can help you.” “I can do this myself..!” “As a flightless bird?” He’d been the one to say it-! He sighed, but was still unwilling to concede. Folding his flippers across his chest and turning slightly away from you. You stroked a hand over his feathers again, and grumpy as he was, you felt Killian lean into your touch and smirked as you teased him. “We could be halfway to D.C. by now...” He turned to you, eyes narrowed, and pushed your fingers away again, gentler this time. “Fine. But not a word to anyone.” “I promise.” You placed your hand over your heart. “And don’t pick me up again. It’s embarrassing.” You raised an eyebrow, folding your own arms, “So... what are you going to do, waddle around after me?” “Yup.” Killian jumped down from the counter, sliding across the floor to the exit, passing KiTT who beeped curiously and looked to you. You gave a shrug and rolled your eyes. “You coming?” 

It didn’t take very long to gather all that you needed and throw yourselves into the helicopter. You thanked your lucky stars that he’d taught you how to fly this thing. Your eyes flicked back to those clouds, “KiTT what did the weather say?” He beeped the response; cold, very cold, chance of snow later but the clouds may have been long gone by then. What concerned you most was if the chopper would fly, he seemed to suggest you’d be fine. 

You took a deep breath and flicked all the switches to their correct positions before starting the ignition, blades whirring into life. Your penguin turned to you from his seat, where you’d firmly belted him in. “You sure you know what you’re doing!?! You have to get us all the way to Washington D.C.!” You glared at him, “You wanna try it in your current situation!? You taught me!!” Killian knew he had no choice but to concede. “Just be careful! Nothing reckless!” “Says the man that just turned himself into a Penguin-!” “It was accidental-!” His voice pitched. You placed your hands assuredly on the joystick and moved the helicopter steadily into the air and into higher altitudes. “Accidental my ass, how do you take something like that accidentally-!?” There was overwhelming silence and you knew you’d won again. But sighed, saying softer, “Look, it doesn’t matter...” You pulled out across the mountains and smiled at the blue sky out across your horizon line, the end of this grey was in sight-! “Walter will have you fixed into a sarcastic, Australian, pain-in-the-ass by the end of the day.” Even Killian couldn’t help but laugh at that.

How exactly did you end up in this mess? It’s probably best to go back to the beginning...

**

Shortly after the whole drone revenge plan had failed, you received an anonymous text telling you to bring a car to a building close to the Capitol Reflecting Pool and Washington Monument. It said nothing more than that, but it made you curious. Upon running it through KiTT and discovering it was from the Agency, your curiosity was only further piqued. And on the dot of the specified time, you were standing outside the building leaning against your car, shades on. To be honest you probably couldn’t have looked less inconspicuous, and you wondered if the Agency, in reality, were about to laugh at you for being so gullible and arrest you too. Well, you’d escaped from them before, and that was more than just a few upgrades ago.

 The doors of the building opposite slid open and your mouth was suddenly agape, you slid your shades slowly from your eyes, unable to hide your shock. Stepping into daylight - in a brand-new suit - was none other than Killian himself. 

His smile was gentle as he made his way down the steps to you, and your heart was hammering against your ribs. As Killian stopped in front of you, you couldn’t help yourself but throw your arms around him. “Am- am- am I here to pick you up!?” God I missed you, I missed you, I missed you… He chucked, returning your embrace, “I believe that’s the idea, yeah.” “They just let you go!?” Killian placed his right hand in his pocket and huffed, “Well. That’s not exactly it, I had to bargain my way out...” You surveyed him for a minute, all his cybernetics seemed intact; he didn’t look messed with. Running a full diagnostic would give you the whole picture, but you were puzzled. “What’s the price?” “Joining the good guys.” You pulled slightly back, “You’re working for the Agency!?” He gave a nod, “That’s the deal.” “Double cross all your acquaintances?” You smiled, leaning back against the car, “Does kinda sound like you... Oh. Wow. You’re an informant?”  “Not exactly.”  Your eyes widened further than you felt possible; “You’re an agent!?” “You got it.” But Killian’s smile slightly faded, “Y/N, I- I was only part of the bargain, though.” You understood him immediately, “Me? They want me.” “You’re an inspired scientist; your expertise in the fusion of human biology and robotics… not to mention AI- they can use that. It’s not really even me they want working with them, it’s you.” “You offered me up as a chip!?” You couldn’t help but be a little upset at him for that. “You’re the only chip I had to play!” Even by the desperate look on his face you shook your head, “No.” “I need you with me on this, you think I was gonna do it without you?” His hand reached for yours, and you didn’t pull away. “So, are we... a team?” “Well, about that—-” His eyes flicked over his shoulder and you both turned.

Standing in the doorway now - each with a wildly different expression on their face - were Walter, Lance and... you believed her name was Marcy. Your eyes flicked to his face and back to them. Walter was the only one that seemed to show any kind of joy; and he was ecstatic. You pushed back just about every swear word you could think of.  “You’re kidding me?”

**

He was not, in fact, kidding and after being hauled into a two-hour meeting - which you felt really explained nothing - you were essentially handed a file and an ultimatum.  Either you worked with them, or you were thrown in a maximum-security prison. You had to laugh, because you didn’t think this was exactly fair on you. And they had you between a rock and a hard place... Killian and you had always had the same vendetta against the Agency since Kyrgyzstan (maybe his a little more aggressive than yours), and you had a life outside all of this. You couldn’t afford not to take their offer. The Agency knew it.

That made you a lot less mad at him for signing you up, and you turned down the opportunity to vent to him on the drive back; “What do I call you now? Agent McFord!?” “Shut up!” The faint blush across his face made you smile and tease him again: “You do know all that James Bond stuff was a joke, right-!?”

It was one of your favourites. The two of you loved spy movies, unironically. And Killian really liked the classic Bond films, how any time he’d make himself a certain drink you’d come for him with the same joke: “Is that a martini!?” “Yes-??” He was always curious as to why that mattered, only for you to give a pointed smirk,  “Alright... James Bond!” And he laughed, hard. And you loved that sound, because it was such a rarity these days, “Surely in this situation Sterling is James Bond...?” Then you smirked again, and gave Killian your best flirty wink, “Not to me!” That seemed to always get you where you wanted. And wasn’t 007 known for his way with the ladies, after all?

Today in your car Killian did not raise to the bait, but you saw him shake his head as he stared out the window.  “So, are you going by Tristan or Killian…?” There was a little smile on his face as he continued to stare at the scenery, “I’ll leave that up to you…” Your sudden gasp had him looking back to you as something else gelled in your brain; “Wait does that mean I get to say I’m dating a secret agent!?” “Oh god.” His groan was quiet and you were already grinning, enjoying yourself even more. “You should never have agreed to this!” “Clearly.” “Wait—!” You turned to him in absolute joy, “Can you just put on a British accent for like five minutes-!?” “NO!” And you noticed how he managed to accent his Australian to new levels.  Clearly his childhood wish to be James Bond was getting fulfilled, but he wasn’t about to play into it for your whims...

You’d figure out how to break that will before long-!

**

It took Killian a little more time than he would have liked to convince you that his deal was a good one. You were basically flat out refusing to work for them, doing the bare minimum you possibly could get away with; it felt too much like coercion to you, and they must have known how much you stood to lose.

 His first track was to use Walter; with both similar approaches to science & technology and similar levels of enthusiasm for it, the work it would be possible for you to do together would be nothing short of incredible, and both of you knew it. You acknowledged Killian was right, but it wasn’t something you fell for. The files Killian gave you, the access to read about the technology... that interested you. The potential to further yourself in your own field, even if it had to be done with the Agency, was a good draw. But still not enough.

So Killian did the one thing he could, and played the last card he had left. Himself. Baiting you with his own fate. “If they say I’m not doing my job and throw me back where I came from, what then?” You hated him for it, hated even more that he had a point. Hated yourself for having to admit you couldn’t be without him. You’d almost gone stir crazy between his arrest and picking him up. You couldn’t stand to think of it being any longer than that.  Too much of a pain point, your one line. You’d both lost enough; you refused to let yourselves lose each other.

You did not become an agent though. Your role was strictly technology and it confined you to the labs. Which you had to be honest, you enjoyed. And because you had your own job – and were a name the industry knew well – you weren’t a full time Agency employee. Your research saved lives – was the reason you still had yours – the Agency couldn’t exactly stop you working on good conscience. Even better! The tension in the team didn’t really let up, but the combination of the four of you (and Marcy and co when necessary) worked well. You all got more done than any other team in the Agency. 

Still, the enjoyment of working alone, or with Walter, didn’t stop you from itching to get out there or complaining about it to Killian. “Oh. I see I’m not an agent.” “Less expendable than I.” “Out of me and you, how am I-” “You have a reputation beyond the Agency and they know it. You’re the poster child of cybernetics. They did it to save your brain; didn’t you tell me that yourself?” “You made this...” You indicated to the parts of your body that were, indeed, cybernetic. “Yes, I did.” He touched his forehead to yours, “but the top half of you is flesh and blood and I do not possess the brain you do. For now, you’re best staying in the lab.” Walter didn’t stay in the lab and it made you antsy; running around with Killian or getting to do stuff for him was half the fun.

And eventually you whined enough to get to accompany him on missions, even though you still didn’t get to be an agent.

You had a few style tips for your 007 too. In the same vein as Lance Sterling, Killian’s crisp new Agency suit was complete with bow tie and dazzlingly white shirt. You couldn’t help yourself, looking him over. Oh, sure, Killian looked great, but he didn’t look like him. As you strolled over, Killian stood still and as tall as possible: his obvious thought was that you we’re going to straighten his bow tie. Not a chance! Instead, you unfurled it and threw the fabric to one side, proceeding to undo one... two... you hovered over the third button. Killian placed his hand over yours, “Isn’t that enough?” He should have known that was a fatal mistake to say; “For me? No!” You took a step back with a smile, at the creased eyebrow and small frown look on his face, surveying your handy work: “Mmm. That’s more you. Agent McFord.” And so this was how he started to wear his suits, and before long that signature blue shirt found its way back into the mix, much to your delight.

It was on these missions together that you both became curious in Walter’s biomolecular tech. You from a purely scientific fascination. He had Sterling turning from man to pigeon left, right and centre. And the two of you had drones (now equipped with AI), but even you didn’t have anything like that. Clearly Killian’s interest had become a little more than just the spectacle and scientific theory though.

No, clearly he’d tried to replicate it for himself. And the result hasn’t exactly gone as planned. You supposed he wasn’t about to allow Lance to one up him for the rest of his Agency career - however long that lasted. And Killian wanted to get back on level footing without Walters help; he wanted to do it himself.

And it had worked, a very valiant attempt, but he hadn’t finished his antidote or had miscalculated somewhere... And that was how you had all ended up in a helicopter flying yourself to the Agency labs, with a penguin in the passenger seat.

Yet with what you’d seen working here, this just seemed like a typical day!

***

You landed to the best of your ability, ignoring his slight glare of annoyance at the small bump as you set the helicopter down. You would call that trip a success. You stared at the heavy doors in front of you and gathered your pass; you heard KiTT behind you and his metallic fussing as he switched himself into all the correct safety modes and access clearances for the Agency. That you had done yourself; you didn’t trust Killian with KiTT, did they really think they would get the go ahead to touch him? Turning to Killian you cleared your throat; “You gotta act like a penguin remember-! So don’t talk to me! Or do anything a penguin wouldn’t do!” “What wouldn’t a penguin do!?” You unclipped his seatbelt. Well, you supposed a researcher would know, or someone that worked with them closely in a zoo. But he couldn’t just guess the Agency’s experience. Then again, it wouldn’t surprise you if he knew everyone in it inside out by now. “Look, I don’t know. But don’t make me talk to you, I’m going to look like an insane person-!” Realising that you were both still talking to each other you shared the same ‘shut up!’ look before agreeing not to talk with a silent nod, and with both KiTT and penguin Killian trailing you, you headed across the helipad with your Agency pass. 

Here we go again...

God, you hated this building.  Most times you’d been out here it hadn’t been for any good reason - and you still didn’t feel particularly safe within it. And so many people… Even when you worked your legitimate job you usually worked alone - or with people you actually liked - you could talk to yourself or KiTT and run your mouth, or talk things through without anyone answering you.  Everyone at the Agency had an opinion. When it was just you and Walter it was okay, and Killian was right, you liked him. But sometimes other people got involved and it got messy. To the point where Walter would gingerly steer you from the room before you really went off at someone.

You keyed yourself in; immediately scanned by the Agency’s automatic sensors, the switch turned green and the door swung open for you. You hesitated for a moment and looked down to Killian. “I know you’re gonna hate this, but I’m going to have to carry you through security. I think that’s all there is for it.” You didn’t let him answer as you picked him up but, as before, Killian protested by squirming in your arms as you walked down the hall to the security area. “Geez, now I look like I’m smuggling in a penguin…”

You gained some funny looks for doing so, but you need only say the word research and they let you through with him. As you turned into the next corridor, through the next security door and it all looked empty, Killian nipped at your fingers; “OW! Okay… Geez-!” You put him back on the ground, only for him to shake out his ruffled feathers with a ‘humph!’ The corridors remained silent as you took the long way down to the research centre. And Killian switched from waddling to sliding around on his stomach. You watched with curiosity; you supposed that was faster for him than trying to keep up with you. You turned to KiTT with a raised eyebrow, only to see him also focused with puzzlement on the penguin. Knowing you weren’t about to get anything sensible out of your drone, you spoke once again to your boyfriend: “Is that easier to move, or is it just fun?” Killian barely glanced up at you, but you knew the look he was giving: ‘you’re the one that said don’t talk!’ He was right, but this corridor was empty, the last 10 corridors had been empty! “Geez you can just nod.” You were met with nearly exactly the same look, before he paused, nodded, and carried on his sliding.   “It’s fun? You are too cute.”

It took you until the next door for him to stand up and retaliate, but when Killian did, he smacked your leg as best he could with his flipper; you could only laugh.

***

You wandered cautiously through the laboratory and he stayed close; perhaps you should have checked that Walter was actually in today. You could already hear the stirring of whispers, and KiTT beeped in acknowledgement. You glanced to him, “Tell them to shut the hell up then!” His beep was a little louder in annoyance, and you rolled your eyes, but he began flying ominously over the heads of the other scientists and chatter stopped, work resumed. You smiled to yourself; everyone was scared of KiTT because of what they knew Killian’s drones had been capable of. KiTT was harmless, and had no weaponry, but they didn’t need to know that. You quite enjoyed how scared they got sometimes. Served them right for the majority of it. You were a little overcome with joy to see that Walter was indeed in his lab, and even more happy to see that Lance was nowhere to be found. You gave him a wave as you knocked on his door and received a big smile back. “Y/N! I didn’t know you were coming in today!” “Unplanned, I do confess. But it’s good to see you Walter!” “Well, it’s lovely to see you too! You working?” “Actually I came to ask a favour…” “Oh!” He straightened in his chair as he swung it towards you, large blue eyes curious, “What is it?” “Your bio-molecular technology?” “Yes.” It was at this point he noticed the penguin, and you could see the million questions racing in his mind, so you opted to continue quick before he got a chance to ask them. “Is that just for Lance? Would it work on anyone? You must have the formula, right? Is there any chance I can take a look? Both for the transformation process and the antidote to it. I mean you guys are using it all the time.” “Uuuhhhh…” Now you’d given Walter a million questions, and his eyes kept flicking downwards to your companion. “Well, I…Yes, I guess I could…. show you how to… Do you want to do this with a penguin?” “Ignore the penguin.” 

Walter tried to keep his eyes on you, especially as the look you were giving him was serious, but eventually they trailed back to the bird at your feet. He studied it for a while and ignored you trying to protest him disregarding what you’d said. He leant forward on his chair, “Killian?” Instead of acting as he was supposed to, your partner became immediately angry. “Not a WORD to Sterling, or I SWEAR-!!” Instead, Walter lit up with a gasp, “You perfected your own formula!?! That’s so amazing—!! Colour me impressed-! Well, I could make what I made for him, so you can turn pretty much at will-!! Well-” He turned to you with a smile, “with some assistance of course-!” “A secret agent penguin!” The idea was funny to you, but at the same time you couldn’t help but love it. Killian immediately protested, “NO-! THATS STUPID, WE ARE NOT—!” You nudged him with your foot to shut him up, before continuing a sensible track of conversation, “First off, I suppose we should get the formula done. Then we can think about what we want to do with it afterward.” “All you need is the antidote right? I can get right on that… but, Killian, I’m going to need your help with what you did…” Walter spun back to the computer and began typing away, “Pull up a seat you two!” You dragged one across, and Killian scrambled up onto your lap; “I don’t have my formula, but KiTT could probably download it. He has a satellite uplink to the lab back home.” Walter nodded, “That’ll do, I’ll have to make sure the antidote coincides… I can’t promise this will be short though, you might be stuck like that for a few more hours.” “Hours!?” Killian sounded exasperated but turned to your assistance drone: “KiTT, see if you can link back to the lab and access file F-BMP5. Then send it across to Walter.” KiTT, glad of something to do, bleeped happily and set to work. “Sorry buddy.” Walter replied softly, “A penguin though, I’m impressed.” “Not entirely easy to find birds where we live.” This caused you to chime in, “Genuinely there are penguins up there?” “If you know where to look.” “Huh!” You smiled gently, “You’ll have to show me!”

Walter worked as quickly and carefully as possible, and as you suspected people were fascinated.  Everyone who passed couldn’t resist knocking on the door and asking what a penguin was doing here. Some even having the nerve to ask, ‘Is that penguin talking?’ By the time the last one had enquired you were up by the door: “NO!” and slamming it back in their face. Walter took precautions to lock you all in here and frost the glass for privacy after that. 

Killian remained in your lap, and you held him close, stroking your fingers through his feathers again, this time he didn’t seem to mind too much, and at times when you paused, he would nuzzle against your hands to get you to continue. Though you knew he would never admit it. As he continued working on the antidote, Walter again brought up the possibility of using this ultimate spy tech regularly. Killian didn’t seem keen, but you wondered if you could get him to warm to the idea… “I’m sure that we could find a little suit jacket for you in that form.” He glared back at you, “You’re enjoying this a little too much, aren’t you?” “A little, yeah!” You grinned in admittance, making him turn to Walter. “It’s a hard no from me.” “Aw, Killian, c’mon!” That only made Walter chuckle, “Let him get used to it Y/N, he’ll like it eventually, Lance did.” “You mean just leave him like this for a while?” Walter grinned, “Something like that!” Killian spluttered, stamping his foot against your leg; “YOU TWO PUT ME BACK RIGHT NOW!”

When Walter had the serum made up, he walked you both into another lab to perform the procedure. Killian let you carry him. “You can drink it if you want, but I’d like to run a few tests.” “Meaning what?” “I mean, if I put you under anaesthetic… I can check a few things.” “Is that usual?” “No but it’s your first time, and Lance’s wasn’t a pleasant experience I just want to make sure you’re okay, or Y/N will kill me.” Killian narrowed his eyes at both of you, standing there trying to look so innocent. “Fine. If I wake up and I’m not human again, I’m going to kill both of you.” Walter winced, however you only smirked; “Noted!”

***

When Killian awoke again, he was indeed human. But he was not in a lab in Washington D.C. instead he was in bed, back in the mountain top hideout. Had he really been out that long? Or was whatever drug used in the anaesthetic or antidote so strong he simply couldn’t remember anything else. He stretched, glad his head wasn’t spinning, and walked into the bathroom. Skimming his fingers up the side of his neck he pressed down on the projection switch. Killian checked this every morning as routine; that the system worked, that there were no problems with the metal, or his eye. This morning, nothing worked. He straightened up with a frown and tried again. Nothing. Killian rushed through the house; “Y/N! Y/N!” He sounded panicked, making you shake your head and call him through. “In the main room, babe.” He ran the rest of the way, “Y/N, my projection isn’t working!” You turned to him slowly, crooked, amused smile on your face; as if you were trying to hold back a laugh. “Are you sure? Why don’t you check again?” This time Killian was more careful, fingers sliding up his neck tentatively. He paused, realising that he couldn’t even feel the switch. It no longer existed. His eyes flew wide, voice quiet; “You- you- fixed it!” You grinned, smile slowly spreading across your face as you nodded, “Yes! So now you have a complete face!” He sprinted the rest of the way to you, grabbing you into a hug. You couldn’t help laughing, throwing your arms around him too as Killian buried his face in his shoulder, “You can cry now too! But please don’t! I would feel terrible!” “How-!?” “Turns out I can pick up a thing or two… Called in a few favours...” He pulled back and you framed his face with your hands, stroking your thumbs over his cheeks, “The Agency have better tech, but I never admitted that out loud. I’ve been wanting to do it for a little while but… Walter finally gave me the opportunity.” “...Thank you.” “Oh, don’t you start.” You indicated to yourself, “I have far more to thank you for.” You gestured to his robotic arm, “I thought… maybe I’d leave that. That was a feat of engineering y’know?” He laughed, “One thing at a time, huh?” “Yes!” You agreed with a nod.

Killian tugged away from you for a moment, and studied your clothes. He was in luck; they were the ones you had been wearing at the labs. Although, as he glanced to the colour of the sky perhaps it wasn’t the morning after all, perhaps it was later in the same day. It was snowing, though, so that weather prediction had been correct. Killian couldn’t be sure when it was exactly, but it was imperative you were wearing these clothes. “I just need to do something.” You were confused as he got closer to you. “What?” “Don’t get too excited.” He ran his hand down your body to the pocket of your jeans. “I mean, I can’t help get excited, you’re here and touching me.” “Stop it.” Although Killian smirked, slipping his hand into your pocket. You stilled, and your features pulled into a highly suggestive look as your eyes scanned his; “I mean, I have questions, Agent McFord.” He rolled his eyes at you as he fished a small disk drive out of your pocket. “…Wait!” You gasped, moment broken, “What the hell is that!? Where did you get that!?” You patted yourself down suddenly, “Killian-!” He closed his hand around it and beckoned you with him, turning to walk back to the labs, you hurried after him, “No one was paying much attention to the Penguin, were they!” “Wait! Seriously! What is that?” “Shush, you’ll see.” He plugged it into his computer and you waited patiently for it to boot up before you found yourself gasping again; “Is that… The Agency’s entire weapons tech!?” “Yup.” You whipped around to him, hands on his desk, “ARE YOU DOUBLE CROSSING THE AGENCY!” “Kinda.” His face was fairly nonchalant as his eyes held yours again. “Killian!” You couldn’t believe this was happening. After all that talk, and trying to persuade you into this. “After what they did...” He transposed the files, “are you really THAT surprised?” You folded your arms, hating that he had a point, “...Well no. But I... thought you might be a little more discreet.” “What they don’t know won’t hurt them - besides a few months ago you were telling me I was double crossing all the people I worked with, so is it double crossing a double cross or is it simply that I’m an effective double agent?” “... That’s a lot of doubles.” “Mm.” “I figure that’s not what the programme and agreement of your release was for. K, if they find out…” He tipped his head, eyes very nearly pleading with you. “I’m not covering for you!” “Accomplice?” “Not in your wildest dreams!” You were grinning - but maybe grimacing, because you thought perhaps you’d get caught up in this too, being part of his damn agreement - and Killian already knew he’d got away with it. You were going to be there for him no matter what he did and no matter what happened, you’d made that promise too long ago and you’d never break it. Not after what you’d been through together. You folded your arms again, “I won’t rat on one condition.” His eyes rolled, “What could that be?” “If you’ll agree to use Walter’s biomolecular tech, penguin yourself on missions in the same way Lance does his pigeon transformation.” Killian scoffed, “How?!” You were sure he wished he didn’t ask as you produced a collection of vials from a table across the lab. Killian’s face fell slightly. “You did not.” “Oh, we did!” “That’s most certainly punishment.” You indicated to the screen, “Someone brought this upon himself.”

There was silence, before he began chuckling, pulling you into his arms gently - and you were only too happy to accept his hug and a kiss to your forehead. “Geez. The things I do for you!” You moved to catch his lips delicately in ‘thanks’. Oh yeah, like you couldn’t say the same thing!

---

Thank you for reading the penultimate fic of the year! 😁

#Killian #Killian sid #Tristan McFord #Spies in Disguise #Killian x Reader #Tristan McFord x Reader #Agent McFord #Killian/Ashlinn #Ashlinn #Kitt the Drone #KiTT #205 #This boy went in a box in Jan/Feb popped up in April and now he's back for December! #Alternatively: I Wish I Was James Bond #Which is the song I would have used for the 007 pieces because this is technically 2 fics in one #I'm rambling again but whatever... #Linzi Writes #Smol Bean Drabbles #I have missed writing for these two SO much!! #But then I look in the SID tag and I'm like /oh yeah. this is why.../ #I still don't understand this Keller Killian thing but I crack up every time I see it because Ben also played Keller in Captain Marvel... #...so that's hilarious!! #And now I can only think of them being somehow related and thats even funnier #New Canon: Director Keller becomes Killian #burn everything you love / then burn the ashes #I've been listening to this song on repeat all day and its very Krennic but it's very good for Killian too!

[xlovelyyoongix]

a hair cut | myg

Summary- With the salons closed due to Covid-19, you agree to give your best friend a much needed hair cut. In doing so, Yoongi starts to realize you mean more to him than he originally thought.

Pairing: Yoongi x F.Reader

Genre: Fluff with a bit of angst if you squint.

Word Count: 1278 (one-shot)

Date Posted: 5/20/2020

Warning: Yoongi gets a lil peek at your boobies but that’s it.

A/N: I hope everyone is staying safe and healthy during quarantine! 

                                                     ***

"Yoongi, if you keep fidgeting, I'll cut off more than just your hair." You breathe out annoyingly, comb in one hand, and scissors in the other as your fingers measure throughout your friend's black tresses. 

Yoongi's kitten lips curl as he grunts. "I'm not even moving,__." His jet orbs glancing up at you.

his body remaining still on the makeshift seat, which was none other than the toilet in his master bedroom. "You just don't know what you're doing." He shoots back half-jokingly with a chuckle.

"Oh, really." Parshley offended by your friend's comment, your hands placed on your hips, leg propping out sassily. "How about I just go and leave your hair lopsided, then?" Your brows arch daringly, waiting for your friend's ultimate decision. 

Yoongi squints his cat-like eyes, challenging your rebuttal. "You wouldn't dare." Lips tightening into a signature line. 

Your head tilts, lashes fluttering at his comment. "Watch me." Somewhat serious, you begin to gather your beauty belongings that were scattered across Yoongi's bathroom sink brazenly.   

Knowing you'd actually leave if he let you, Yoongi's shoulders drop in defeat, hand reaching out to put a stop to your immature actions. "Fine. Fine." He gives in, huffing out a sigh. "I'll stay still." 

"And quiet?" You add with a cocked brow 

"Mhm," Yoongi nodded silently. 

"Good." Your dainty fingers run through Yoongi's hair once again, measuring the most extended piece to make sure to cut just below his signature length. "It won't be too much longer. I'm almost done." 

Yoongi sits in silence, allowing you the peace you needed to concentrate on his overgrown mane. 

With two months into the Covid-19 pandemic, beauty supply stores, salons, and barbershops were forced to close to help prevent the spread of the fatal virus. Yoongi figured he'd simply wait it out, growing out his hair until all of the shops reopened again, but the moment he started to notice split-ins irritating the back of his ears and wild bangs blocking his sight, he knew he needed a trim. So, of course, who else would Yoongi call besides you?

Sure, you didn't have a cosmetology license, and Yoongi was absolutely sure the scissors you were wielding weren't for cutting hair, but you were the queen of DIY, so the hairy male was certain he was in good hands. 

"You have such beautiful hair, Yoongi." 

With the tender way, your fingers massage through Yoongi's scalp and your adoring compliment, the male couldn't help but feel a rush of warmth pooling in the rounds of his cheeks, but of course, Yoongi remained silent, not only because you told him to but because he was always a bit shy when receiving praise, especially from you. 

Moments slip by, and your talented hands finally make their way to the side of Yoongi's bangs. "It's coming along nicely." You speak proudly, closely eyeing down the ends before snipping them away with your scissors. 

The closer your body maneuvered to Yoongi's face, the easier it was for him to become intoxicated with your lovely scent. He'd never admit it aloud, but he always liked the way you smelled. You were never one to douse yourself in heavy lotions or perfumes, but he did notice you washed your hair with peach-scented shampoo, that left just enough of a subtle fragrance to always catch his attention. 

"Just one more part, and then we're done." You chipper merrily, bent at the waist, leaning forward to get a better view of Yoongi's hair. 

With your attention blinded by your craft, it goes unnoticed that the top button of your blouse popped open. With your body leaning in, nose ghosting over Yoongi's, you unintentionally give your male friend full sight of your womanly chest. 

Yoongi's body grows incredibly tense, eyes sparking wide while drinking in the valley of your breast in his face. His teeth digging into the bottom of his lip, knowing he should look away, but something inside him feels weird, a feeling that felt somewhat familiar...

"Finished!" Your announcement causes Yoongi to flinch in fear he'd been caught red-handed. "Here, take a look." You gladly pass your friend the hand mirror. 

Yoongi gazing at himself, his head tilts, getting a better look at your work." Wow." He was genuinely shocked you were able to get his hair back to his trademark length. "It looks good." His voice is still a bit anxious from witnessing your chest, so up close, but you're too wrapped up in your own world to notice. 

"I'm so glad you like it, Yoongi!" You say, eyes shimmering with excitement, lips broadcasting a toothy smile. "Who should I facetime first? Jimin or Tae? Oh wait!" ecstatic, you grab your phone, fingers hastily dialing your friend's number. "Hobie, would definitely wanna see this!" 

You don't notice, but Yoongi was staring at you. His eyes catch the way the corner of your lips curl when you get excited, the habit you have of wrinkling your nose, and the way your luxurious hair seems to always shape perfectly around your adoring face. He felt something in his chest tighten again, a tightness that only tended to happen whenever you were around. 

For as long as the raven-haired male had known you, you were always a good friend, practically one of the guys. You were a friend that would give your honest opinion on Yoongi's musical creations. A friend that could watch hours of sports, happily cheering along the moment your team scored, and a friend that didn't mind spending the whole day on the couch binge-watching Netflix. You were always that someone Yoongi could look to for anything.  

You also had a warm aura about you that always seemed to draw Yoongi in like a moth to a flame, because for him, it was more than just the way your clothes always seemed to fit around your perfectly, imperfect frame. You had a way of making him smile on his darkest days, a delightful presence that could brighten up any situation.

It was then Yoongi realized, you weren't just one of the guys. There was a special place in his heart that you and only you resided. Looking at you now, Yoongi was able to realize why the pumping muscle in his chest always seemed to quicken every time you were around. 

"Hobi, you gotta see Yoongi's hair! I cut it for him!" You speak excitedly through the video call. "Look!" Your hand gestures to Yoongi to stand and show off his new hair-do. 

Yoongi's lips pull into a gummy smile, snickering at how excited you were to show him off like a talented puppy at a dog-show. "It looks good, huh?" Yoongi chuckles into the screen. 

Hoseok's mouth widens in shock. "It's great! You don't look homeless anymore." He laughs playfully. "__, Did a great job!" 

A boisterous expression plasters across your face. "Why, thank you." Your tone chipper. "Luckily, it didn't take too long." 

While you get lost in the conversation with Hoseok, Yoongi is still gazing upon you, realizing that you were more than just a friend. You were a girl that always seemed to make his heart skip a beat. A girl that made the pit of his abdomen feel weightless, and the cause of his flustered actions. He was infatuated with you. 

"Hey, Hobi, you should let,__ cut your hair next" Yoongi jokes with a laugh, distracting himself from the captivating thoughts of you that were swimming through his mind, because the male would much rather pretend his feelings didn't exist than to confess he was secretly in love with you, only to risk losing you as a friend forever.  

#min yoongi #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you #yoongi x y/n #yoongi fluf #yoongi fluff #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts x y/n #you x bts #bts fanfic #yoongi fanfic #yoongi oneshot

[cinnonym]

christmas magic's brought this tale (to a very happy ending)

Written for Day 10 - Game Night / Movie Night of 12 Days of Christmas @supercorpbb

Read on AO3

***

r/relationship_advice – posted by u/anonymous1000 – 13 hours ago

My (25f) crush and best friend (27f) chose a lesbian classic for movie night, how do I react?

Disclaimer ahead: I haven’t used reddit before and am thus not very fluent in etiquette and formatting, but please bear with me because I am seriously overwhelmed by the current situation and would appreciate all forms of help. I’m also typing this in a hurry, because I’m supposed to be in the bathroom, so please excuse typos or inaccuracies. I’ll try my best. But now, without further ado, here goes:

I (25f) have been crushing on my best friend (27f) pretty much since the day we met. For context, that was two years ago, and while we started out on a business relationship, it evolved into a close friendship almost right away. This is mostly due to her, I must admit. She’s the most open-minded person I know and simply couldn’t be “scared away” by my bad reputation (which I inherited). Needless to say, I’m very grateful for her. She’s not only my best, but has also been my only friend for quite a while, before she introduced me to her inner circle. I unironically owe her my happiness (and my life, several times over, but that’s unrelated to this story).

I’d fallen in love before I realised what was happening. Usually, trust and affection come slowly to me, but her I loved almost right away. That’s simply who she is, a person one cannot help loving. Also, she’s very attractive, side note. I used to flirt with her sometimes, in the beginning, before I became aware of the depth of my feelings (this is awkward to talk about, btw, thank goodness for anonymity online), and back then, it seemed like she wasn’t all unresponsive to my advances. Then again, she isn’t very good at saying no to anyone, because of who she is as a person, so maybe she was only being polite? I’m not sure.

Anyway, she had a boyfriend then, and I had to come to terms with my feelings, so I sort of drew back a little. I’d been with women before, so that was never an issue, but I’m uncertain whether she has ever considered women. Her sister is gay, and she is very supportive of her, but we’ve never talked about how she feels. As far as I know, she’s only ever been with men though. Either way, I’m not in the business of making moves on taken people, so I mostly focused on fostering our friendship.

The thing is, as long as I can be close with her, I am sort of okay with being “just friends”. I mean, isn’t close friendship like a romantic relationship, just minus the romance? And minus the physical advantages (although she is a very cuddly person, so that’s nice). And, like, of course, I’d like to mean more to her. Of course I’d like to take care of her every day when she comes home, cook her dinner, listen to her worries, massage her neck, kiss her goodnight. Of course I’d like to be The One to her, just like she is The One to me. But considering that she’s probably straight and not interested in me in that way, I’m mostly okay with just being her best friend.

Or, I was mostly okay with it. But recently she’s… been acting differently towards me. She’s giving me these long glances when she thinks I don’t notice (I do). She’s going out of her way to make sure I’m fine and don’t work too much (it’s a tendency I have, especially pre-Christmas). She’s told me she’s been working on my Christmas gift almost all month (and I can’t for the hell of it guess what it could be). She’s even invited me for Christmas with her family (since I don’t celebrate with mine).

And now today, she chose the film Carol for movie night (movie night is a weekly thing we do, I should have mentioned that earlier, maybe), which is, as you might know, about a lesbian relationship. And I don’t know what to do.

She claims to have chosen the film because it was on a list of Christmas films (and I suppose it does have christmassy vibes), and because it “sounded fitting”. Sounded fitting?? What is that even supposed to mean? She doesn’t know I’m gay, so it can’t be that, unless she somehow figured out. Is she gay and this is her way of telling me? And if so, how do I react? Is this her letting me know she’s interested in me, or am I reading too much into this? Did she even realise this was a lesbian film??

Anyway, she’s calling from the living room, so I need to go. I’ll try to take another bathroom break halfway into the movie, and I’d appreciate it A Lot if I had some reactions in by then, because I’m panicking a little here. Thank you all!

Tl;dr: my supposedly straight friend chose a lesbian film for movie night, and I don’t understand her intentions behind that.

(P.S. She and her boyfriend have broken up months ago. She’s currently single.)

***

r/relationship_advice – posted by u/anonymous1000 – 11 hours ago

UPDATE to this post

First of all, thank you all so much for your quick replies, they’re really helpful. As you might have guessed, I managed to negotiate another bathroom break mid-film (though my friend is currently sulking on the couch, she didn’t want to let me go? :) ?) and am, once again, typing as fast as my fingers will allow. Much has happened.

I’ve mentioned that my friend is a very cuddly person. Today was no difference – as soon as she’d pressed play on the film, she’d already enveloped me in one of her bone-crushing hugs (she’s very strong). Normally, I let myself sink into these embraces, because she really is a phenomenal hugger, but today my speculations were so prevalent in my mind that I could hardly breathe when our bodies touched.

(She noticed my reaction right away, and immediately asked if I’d rather not hug (to which I replied a vehement no), and this really isn’t very important to the story, but I wanted to let you know.)

As the film progressed (largely unregarded by me, I must admit), I noticed several things about her behaviour that seemed odd, though:

One, her heartbeat became considerably faster as soon as Carol and Therese had met on-screen and it became clear that their relationship would be the focus of the film.

Two, she’s been side-eyeing me a lot more frequently than usual (she tends to watch me watch films if she knows the plot already, but considering she probably hasn’t seen Carol before, this seems out of character for her).

Three, and this is… I don’t even know how to feel about this, but… how do I formulate this best…  When the sex scene was playing, I swear she looked at my cleavage and blushed.

I’m sort of ecstatic (because those are hints, right? I can’t be the only one to think that those are hints?) but also very very VERY worried that I’ve totally misinterpreted the entire situation. Then again, all of your comments sound incredibly hopeful and affirming, so I guess I’m not entirely wrong in my assumptions?

I need to go back now (I’ve been here way too long already), but I will definitely keep you updated. It’s so heart-warming to see how invested all of you are!

@everyone who told me to kiss her already: if she keeps this up, I just might :)

***

r/relationship_advice – posted by u/anonymous1000 – 1 hour ago

UPDATE! All’s well that ends well!

Hey everyone, I am so sorry for the late update. I ended up being… somewhat busy last night.

:) :) :)

So, long story short, we’re dating now. And yes, I did kiss her (or she kissed me, I can’t remember exactly. We somehow kissed each other simultaneously).

Long story slightly less short, because I see you hungering for details in the comments (and my now-girlfriend said you deserved to know), here is how it went down:

We didn’t even finish the film. We didn’t even resume the film, after I returned from the bathroom. Because when I did, giddy and ready to Do This, she wasn’t even looking at me. No, she was looking at her phone.

Now, I’ve never seen a person look at their phone with an expression quite as shocked as hers. She was, I’m not kidding, completely frozen (and if you knew her, you’d know that doesn’t happen often).

So naturally I rush over to her, worried as can be, thinking something bad happened, a catastrophe or maybe an accident in her family. And as I kneel by her side, and she still hasn’t moved, I happen to see what she’s been reading on her phone screen.

And it’s reddit.

I’m not gonna lie, for a second I thought it was all over. I mean, she’d obviously recognised us in my post (so much for anonymity everyone, the internet is treacherous), and judging by her expression, well… I assumed the worst.

But then she turns around and she fixes me with this incredibly cute stern stare she has, and she goes: “[My full name]. Have you browsed the relationship tag even once?”

And I shake my head, completely dumbfounded of course, because what does that have to do with anything. But apparently it plays a crucial role, because apparently you all know my girlfriend.

Her username is @supergirlssupercurls and she’s been posting the entire journey of our friendship/romance on this platform. Turns out she loves me too.

:)

She’s also told me to end this with: and they lived happily ever after.

(Let’s hope we do).

#supercorp #supercorp fanfiction #sc fanfic #sc #supergirl #christmas #christmas fic #mini fic #my writing #movie night

[twokinkybeans]

Company Chapter 3: Imbolc

Moodboard made by Kim <3

Peter and Oberon find warmth with each other. Another Fae has different plans.

Warnings for this chapter: Fluff, smut and angst, magic and folklore, mischief, masturbation, anal (fingering), hand job, rather vanilla sex tbh? it’s full of love, then regrets and a scene that could be compared to how victims respond after rape (and the next chapter that will release on Ostara will likely contain actual dub-/noncon so please continue with care), Mysterio is here to fuck shit up.

Go to the Masterpost for all the teaser poems and chapters! Read Company - Chapter 3: Imbolc on AO3 —————————————————————————————- Here it is! Chapter 3! The next one will be posted on Ostara, March 21st. Thank you for reading it, if you do! I hope you enjoy!!! <3 - Lien

...

The Fae haunts Peter. His thoughts, his dreams- both day and night. Oberon’s smile and intense gaze follow Peter through life. He catches himself yearning to hear the man’s laughter, to feel his fingers curl in Peter’s neck as he did when he took off Peter’s coat. Sometimes, Peter imagines how he would whisper, laying next to him in bed. How his soft lips and stubble would contrast themselves on the shell of Peter’s ear. He can only guess the words the Fae would tell him, but part of him wonders what his name would sound like from Oberon’s tongue. “Peter…” The young man gasps as he shakily thrusts up into his hand, spilling over his lower abdomen. His muscles tense and his lips part to let out a strained noise in a half-assed attempt to hold back his ecstatic experience. Wave upon wave of pleasure floods over him until his body and member slack. Peter pants, eyes closed, and whispers the Fae’s name in reply to his imagination. “Oberon-” Peter knows he shouldn’t be thinking of Oberon like this. The more he gives in to his growing infatuation with the Fae, the more likely he is to slip up and give himself to the man fully. He can’t help the small voice in the back of his head, wondering how bad it would be to spend eternity with Oberon. Would it be bad at all?

… When Imbolc finally arrived, Peter took the first train to the woods. Maybe he’s a little eager, but he simply can’t wait to see Oberon again. He scrolls through his phone, smiling at some silly photos of May he took last week and setting one as his lock screen. She’s alive again because of the Fae- because of Oberon. And all the man wants is company. Nothing more, nothing less. Well, Peter thinks. If it’s company he wants, it’s company he’ll get. With the snow gone, Peter more confidently finds his way through the woods. He’s still not exactly sure where to go, but at least the direction he’s taking feels like it makes more sense. “Oberon?” Peter uses his hands to help his voice carry further. “You here?” “Why, aren’t you cute.” Peter’s back straightens and he turns, startled, at the voice behind him. A man with slightly longer, pushed back, dirty blond hair grins down at him from a large branch. His short, trimmed beard enunciates his jawline and he has large eyes, almost comically so. They glow dim, just like Oberon’s. Fae. Bad news. Peter swallows and presses his lips on top of each other, breathing in through his nose. “Says a strange man sitting in a tree by himself in the middle of the woods,” he replies calm and collected. The Fae chuckles darkly, causing a shiver to run down Peter’s spine. The man hops off the branch and lands effortlessly. “Hmm,” the Fae hums. “If it is strange I am here in the woods by myself, then why is it not odd you are here?” “I’m looking for someone,” Peter answers earnestly. “A friend who goes by Oberon.” Suddenly, Peter’s blood seems to freeze, locking him in place as the Fae stalks closer until he is right in front of Peter. He looks down, locking Peter’s eyes with his. The Fae grins and leans in, nearly letting their noses touch. “You may call me Oberon, then.” The man’s breath is cold on Peter’s face and the young man blinks in an attempt to fight a sudden drowsiness that washes over him. “I’ll be your friend.” The Fae’s gaze holds him in place and momentarily, Peter wonders if the beauty of the being’s bright blue eyes are the cause of this sleepiness. He is using magic on Peter and only now does it become painfully obvious what Oberon could have done to him from the start, but never did. “I don’t think I should-” As quickly as the Fae got hold of him, he lets Peter go again. He looks to his side cautiously and when Peter blinks, the Fae is gone. “Puck,” a familiar voice speaks. Immediately, a smile grows on Peter’s face. He pivots and the Fae seems surprised by how Peter beams. “Oberon, hey!” Peter holds himself back. Part of him wants to fall into the Fae’s embrace straight away, but as much as his feelings for the man have rooted and grown, he’s not sure Oberon has gone through the same. “Who were you talking to?” Oberon inquires curiously. Peter cocks his head and frowns. With an uncertain pout, he looks around him. “Nobody- eh, myself, I guess? I tend to do that.” … “What’s that?” Oberon creeps over Peter’s shoulder, staring at the device in Peter’s hand. The young man is seated on the soft pillows of Oberon’s cabin. Peter grins. “With my aunt back at work, she started making money again.” He holds up his phone to proudly show it to Oberon. “She gave me this phone for Christmas!” The Fae frowns slightly and shuffles to sit down next to Peter, who sucks in a breath at how close the man is to him. “Phone…” Oberon repeats, lost in thought. “It looks fragile.” “Well,” Peter chuckles. “I wouldn’t throw or toss it. I don’t want it to break- these things are expensive.” “Huh.” Oberon cocks an eyebrow. There’s a curious glimmer in his eyes as he stares at Peter’s fingers caressing the screen. “May I… May I see it?” “You are seeing it, aren’t you?” Peter smirks. Oberon scoffs and gestures at the phone. “From up close, please?” “Since you asked so nicely,” Peter says theatrically, wanting to hand Oberon the device. However, he quickly pulls back. “There’s metal in this.” “I can handle it, remember?” Oberon says with an encouraging nod. “I am Iron Man.” “Right- right,” Peter chuckles at the silly nickname and passes the phone to the Fae. The man turns and twists it in his hands, studying it intently. His eyes squeeze to slits in an attempt to look into the charger hole. “Press the button on the screen,” Peter instructs. Oberon looks up at him confused, but does as told. The screen lights up and a photo of Peter and May together appears. Oberon gasps in awe. “Who is that?” “M-“ Peter stops himself, nearly saying her name. “My aunt.” “The one I helped?” Peter nods. “She seems nice.” “She’s the nicest.” “Not I?” Oberon jokes, causing Peter to scoff a soft laugh. “Don’t make me choose.” Oberon perks up at that, eyes wide and glimmering, mouth open in a wide smile. “So, you think I am nice?” “I- I don’t mind spending time with you.” Peter looks away into the fire, blushing profusely and silently swearing at himself for feeling it crawl up to his ears. Oberon stays quiet, but Peter can practically hear him grinning. The Fae settles flush next to him as they both stare at the flames. “I think you are nice too,” Oberon speaks softly. He slowly raises his hand to give the phone back to Peter. Instead of taking it, Peter curls his fingers around Oberon’s and presses the home screen again. Oberon seems surprised by Peter’s actions, but watches intrigued as Peter swipes up, opening the camera without unlocking his phone. Oberon gasps when he is met with his own moving image on screen. “It is a mirror?” Oberon moves the phone closer to his face with Peter’s hands still on top of his. “A camera.” “For… Photos?” The Fae looks at Peter with a cocked head. The young man smiles and nods. “Correct,” he replies with a posh accent. “And videos too. Here-” Peter takes the phone out of Oberon’s hands and angles it so they are both in shot. His thumb hovers over the button on screen. “Cheese!” Right as Peter presses the button, Oberon turns to him with a frown. “Cheese?” Click. “What does that have to do with pictures?” Peter snorts and looks down at his phone to open his album. Oberon’s captured face is pricelessly confused, but Peter understands where it came from. “I- I’m not actually sure,” Peter chuckles. “I think it has to do with the word itself? Like, you kind of smile when you say it?” “I smile when I say cheese because it reminds me of its lovely taste.” Only then Oberon notices the photo on Peter’s screen. “Oh, that one is not particularly flattering,” he deadpans as he leans in to look at himself. “Can we tear it?” “Let’s not rip up my phone.” Peter smiles. “I’ll delete it.” “Just because I cannot lie, does not mean I cannot tell when others do,” Oberon says smugly. Peter hides his phone, but his eyes shimmer mischievously. “We could also just try again?” “Yes, let’s do that,” Peter says, already promising to himself that that photo will be his home screen. Peter unlocks his phone and raises his arm to angle it right again. His breath hitches when he feels Oberon press himself against Peter, to fit in the frame better. The Fae’s breath is warm in his neck and Peter nearly forgets what they were doing. He smiles awkwardly, but it turns into a genuine laugh when Oberon pokes his side slightly and exclaims: “CHEESE!” … “So, which one of these are edible?” Peter asks as he pulls at the leaves of a bush, nodding at the berries resting at the base of the twigs. “For starters, that one leads to an eternal nap, so I would advise against it,” Oberon states dryly. Peter immediately lets go of the plant and stands up straight again. They had decided, since Peter can’t actually eat food that Oberon offers him, to go foraging. That way, Peter can collect his own food. It’s been around five hours since Peter had arrived at the cottage and their conversations were as interesting and comfortable as they could be. Peter really loves his time with Oberon. “How about that one?” Peter sheepishly points at another bush with darker berries. Oberon smirks and saunters towards it, taking exactly one berry off of it and tossing it into his mouth. He chews and swallows. “Good pick.” He picks another few berries and eats them. Peter can only stare at Oberon’s bobbing Adam’s apple. After a few bites, Oberon cocks an eyebrow. “Are you alright, Puck? The berries are safe.” Peter blinks and steps towards the bush, but Oberon doesn’t move. Instead, he moves to angle a branch so that the berries are easier to pick for Peter. The young man fills his hand with berries and gratefully pulls his arm back from the bush. Two got squashed in his greedy attempt to fit as many as possible in his hands, but they still look edible. Peter takes his free hand and tastes a single piece. It’s a little sour, but incredibly tasty. He immediately perks up and tosses another three in his mouth, not noticing Oberon’s intense stare on him. Peter’s next bite is a little too eager. To prevent the berry from falling out, he clenches his teeth. However, the berry wasn’t in Peter’s mouth all the way, so it squashes and starts dripping down his chin. “Shit-” Peter exclaims as he makes a cup of his hands to catch the juice dripping down. “Here,” Oberon says quickly. “Allow me-” The Fae raises his hand and steps closer until their breaths mingle. Peter can’t move as Oberon’s thumb finds his jaw and wipes away the juice. He looks up at the man with big eyes, jaw slacked as his mind races. Oberon, seemingly reluctantly, takes his hand back but Peter stops him by dropping the berries he still had to the ground and grabbing hold of the Fae’s wrist. His mouth is dry, regardless of the juicy fruit he just ate. He feels like he’s not breathing, but judging by the fact that he can feel his heart thump in his head and that he sees his chest rising and falling rapidly from his peripheral vision, he’s still taking in oxygen. “Puck?” Oberon whispers. “Are you-” “I think there’s still some left on my lips,” Peter replies breathlessly. It is a bold move, but one he was definitely willing to make after so many more hours of talking and getting to know the man better. “My hands are already sticky.” Oberon licks his lips, eyes strained on Peter’s plump ones. Peter absentmindedly mimics Oberon’s actions. “Only one way to get rid of it then…” Oberon scoffs softly at Peter’s directness. The corner of his mouth curls up as he leans in, closing his eyes. Peter’s and Oberon’s noses brush together and Peter can’t help but close his eyes as well, relishing in the feeling of Oberon’s heat flush against him and his breath mingling with the Fae’s. He gasps softly when he feels a tongue flick against his lips, but the Fae remains distanced in a way that drives Peter mad with want. “I can only imagine how sweet you would taste,” Oberon mutters. “Don’t imagine anymore…” Peter’s order soon turns into a plea. “Please.” “Since when are you so loose? So relaxed? Why would you let me steal a kiss from y-” Peter lets out a strained noise at Oberon’s indecision on what to do, now knowing damn well the Fae wants exactly the same Peter wants. He boldly leans in, immediately opening his mouth so Oberon can push his surprised moan into him. Where Peter took initiative, Oberon now takes the lead. Peter lets himself be guided into the kiss, letting go of Oberon’s hand, so it can find its way into Peter’s hair. After a little bit, Peter pulls back slightly and scoffs a quiet laugh, still not opening his eyes. “Maybe your spells are finally working.” … The door to Oberon’s cabin gets blown wide open as he and Peter are glued to each other, breathing rapidly and tugging at their clothes. The Fae lifts Peter effortlessly, kicks the door shut and pushes the young man up against it. His hips grind into Peter’s crotch and the human whimpers at the friction against his clothed cock. “O-Oberon-” he begs. “More- more, please-” The Fae immediately moves his lips to Peter’s neck to suckle on it. He grins against Peter’s skin when a certain spot has Peter buck his hips involuntarily. Oberon sucks at it a little harsher, drawing the most delicious sounds from Peter. “More-” “I will give you all- everything- all of it.” Oberon’s mutters are nearly incoherent as he ravishes down Peter’s neck, pulling at the hoodie until he can reach Peter’s collar bone. He grazes his teeth past it and pushes his hips up against Peter’s crotch again. “Yes, yes, please-” Oberon carries Peter over to the pillow pile on the floor and sits down with Peter still on top of him. The young man’s eyes flutter open to stare straight into Oberon’s. They glow brighter than they did before. Peter immediately pushes in to kiss him again, rolling his hips into Oberon’s and moaning with every sting of stimulation on his aching clothed cock. The Fae pushes his hips up invitingly as he pulls his head back to take off his shirt. Peter stares, nearly drools, at the beautifully toned chest. “Your turn,” Oberon chuckles darkly. Peter follows the Fae’s lead and undresses his upper body. When Peter’s head is hidden in his dress shirt as he awkwardly pulls it over his head, there’s a sudden intense, wet suckle on his left nipple. “A-ah!” Peter exclaims, twitching under Oberon’s attention. The Fae’s large hands keep Peter in place. He wants to get rid of his shirt asap, but now that he can’t see, the sensations of Oberon’s tongue circling his sensitive bud are all the more overwhelming. When he’s free, Peter throws the shirt away from him and moves his hands into Oberon’s hair to anchor himself. The roll of his hips into Oberon’s crotch is steady now, but both men are ready for more. Peter feels like he’s floating as the Fae turns them both around until he’s pinning Peter on the floor. He rubs their clothed crotches together and all Peter can do is take whatever is given him. “Can I-” Oberon gasps as he sucks possessive marks on Peter’s chest. “M-May I-” “Fuck me-” Peter orders. “Please, I need you-” “Oh, Dandelion,” Oberon moans, tugging at Peter’s pants. “Sweet Chamomile, Bluebell, Primrose…” Each flower nickname is paired with a kiss or a mark or the scraping of teeth over Peter’s skin. His head spins and his eyes roll back as he tries to buck up into Oberon. He can’t close his mouth anymore. All he can do is gasp and moan and attempt to catch Oberon’s lips with his before the Fae moves back to ravish Peter’s neck again. “Clover, Columbine, Sunflower-” When all clothes have been discarded and both men are grinding into each other naked, Oberon’s voice rumbles through the cottage. “Puck-” Peter smiles at how much that particular name takes him out of it. “Parker.” Oberon freezes at Peter’s last name. He pulls back, wide-eyed until he can look at Peter properly. Both of them pant, hips still gently rolling into each other as a soft reminder they’re still going. “What?” The Fae whispers. “Puck isn’t a sexy name, is it,” Peter chuckles, bringing his hands up to trace patterns on his chest with his index finger. He gasps quietly when he brushes past his nipples. “You already know my last name…” Peter half-closes his eyes and licks his lips in an attempt to seduce Oberon to continue. “Use it.” “Parker…” The word gently falls from Oberon’s lips and Peter can feel that same tug at his heart as he did last time. It feels amazing. “Parker,” Oberon repeats, seemingly feeling pleasure from simply saying it as well. “Parker-Parker-Parker-“ Sparks seem to fly from Oberon’s eyes and he growls, moving in to eat Peter up again. Peter is unsure what is happening, but it feels absolutely heavenly. Is it Fae magic? Oberon isn’t in pain, like he said he would be if he broke his promise, so it’s not Oberon using magic directly on him. Maybe Peter feels the unwritten rules of the Fae; rules no one can go around. Not even promises. Oberon might not have Peter’s full name, but through this, part of Peter wonders if he is already bound to him. In all honesty, he couldn’t even mind it if he tried. It feels too good. The sensation is everything; an overwhelming pleasure that makes Peter yearn for more. Earlier, Peter wondered if it would be bad to be bound. But if it feels like this, he is certain that it’s not bad at all. Not with someone as sweet and caring and loving and giving as Oberon. Peter gets brought back to reality by Oberon snapping his finger. The young man blinks dreamily and smiles up at the Fae. “Are you with me?” Oberon checks and Peter nods. “Feels so good-” The Fae grins but it soon fades when Peter cheekily cocks an eyebrow. “However, I do believe I told you to fuck me,” Peter says cheekily. Oberon scoffs a laugh and leans back until he’s up straight again. “Proof of autonomy, right there,” he chuckles as he brings one hand down to circle Peter’s hole. Peter immediately pushes down and lets out a soft whine. “Make me yours-” he gasps. Oberon licks one long stripe from Peter’s right nipple over his collar bone, up to his neck and jaw. “You already are, my flower.” Oberon’s voice is dark and Peter can’t help a high pitched sigh escape his throat. “Are you alright with Oberon?” Peter double checks. “From your lips, always,” the Fae smirks, still teasing around Peter’s entrance. “Anything else, my king?” Peter jokes, referencing the fact that the character is king of the Fae. Oberon freezes at that, causing Peter to open his eyes. “Too much?” Peter ponders out loud. Oberon licks his lips and swallows, seemingly regaining his composure. The Fae then pushes in without warning, curling his finger. Peter’s surprised the glide comes so easily. Like he is already lubed up. Magic, he guesses. He doesn’t really want to think more of it and the ecstasy already makes him forget what just happened. When Peter’s body complies and follows without protest, it doesn’t take long for a second finger to be added. And then a third. Peter is fucking himself on Oberon’s fingers while the man searches for the spot that will make Peter scream. Soon enough, he finds it. Though, after brushing past it once and earning the most delectable noise from Peter, he pulls his fingers back. Before Peter can whine about the lack of touch, the fingers are replaced by Oberon’s stiff cock. “Wasps-” Peter chuckles at the characteristic swear coming from the Fae. “You’re so tight, Parker. So tight.” Oberon bottoms out and stops moving, allowing Peter to get adjusted to the Fae’s girth. Peter, however, is so ready to be fucked, he doesn’t really want to wait anymore. He reaches his, up until now jelly and motionless, arms up until his fingers wrap around Oberon’s shoulders. He then starts pulling and smiles when Oberon lets himself be guided. The Fae’s eyes are closed, like he’s trying to concentrate. It makes him a lot more compliant, which Peter uses to his advantage. Peter keeps pulling and turning until Oberon is laying down and Peter is sitting on top of him. The young man’s hands rest on the Fae’s chest. “Your turn,” Peter whispers, repeating what Oberon said earlier, as he leans down to obscenely lick at Oberon’s perched nipples. He wets them up nicely and moves back enough so his index fingers and thumbs get enough space to start rolling the nipples between them. Oberon chokes back a moan. His entire body is tense. It’s only now that Peter notices Oberon’s arms are spread, fists clenched and… Is that magic in his closed palms? “Are you alright?” Peter inquires. Oberon nods, simply and aggressively. “Holding back-” he chokes out. “What are you holding back?” Peter’s question is paired with a first, slow and gentle roll of his hips. Oberon sucks in a breath and Peter stares curiously at the sparks, brightening in the Fae’s hands. “Magic. My- m-” “Is that magic dangerous to me?” Something about that question thrilled Peter. The only thing that actually frightens him right now is the idea Oberon might want to stop. And also the fact that he may or may not have fallen in love with the man below him. “No,” Oberon groans. “J-Just magic-” he pauses to react to Peter slowly lifting himself up his cock, only to lower himself again and slightly wiggle his hips when he bottoms out. Peter’s curiosity grows by the second, just as his need to get both Oberon and himself off. “What kind?” The words roll off Peter’s tongue, low and alluring. “Illusions- I think I- I can make them be illusions.” Peter isn’t sure what Oberon means with that exactly, but the reply surely piqued his interest. He picks up the pace riding the Fae, reveling in how Oberon falls apart below him. The magic in Oberon’s hands intensifies and it is now Peter’s sole mission to have the man let go for him. Peter leans in and kisses Oberon on the lips, so soft and gentle. “Oberon,” Peter whispers as he sits up straight again, slowly but surely turning his rolling into bouncing. “Open your eyes.” The Fae obeys and moans at the sight of Peter’s body on top of him. In a reflex, the man starts fucking up into Peter in tune with Peter’s bouncing. “O-oh, yes!” Peter exclaims. “I- I wanna see it, Oberon. Y-your magic. Let it out-“ Oberon’s eyes roll back as he loses tension in his fingers. Blues and purples shoot from his hands, surrounding the two lovers with an endless galaxy. Peter gasps surprised, staring at the infinity around them. It’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. When he looks down at Oberon again, whose eyes still glow and flicker, he notices even the ground has turned to stars below them. He grins as he picks up the pace again. “Never thought I’d get to fuck in space,” he chuckles, riding Oberon feverishly. “Or y’know, get fucked by a Fae.” “You,” Oberon sighs with a smile. “You talk too much.” Now that Oberon doesn’t have to hold anything back anymore, he quickly turns them around like they were before. His hands, still sparking with magic, cup Peter’s cheeks and he brings them together in a hungry kiss. He has once again taken the lead and is now thrusting into Peter, chasing his high. One hand swiftly finds its way down between them. Peter moans into Oberon’s mouth when the Fae’s fingers curl around his shaft to pump him at the same pace as Oberon’s hips move against him. They’re wet and sticky with magic lube and precum and the sounds their crashing bodies make are downright porn-worthy. “Parkeeer…” The Fae groans. “O-Oberon,” Peter replies breathlessly. Their pace is relentless now, bodies tensed and nearing release. “Stark,” the Fae says, causing Peter’s eyes to shoot open when he feels another tug at his heart. The Fae looks down at him with a panting half-smile. “If I get to call you Parker, you get to call me Stark.” Last names. Peter’s entire body shakes and trembles as the edge is ever so close. He’s on fire, surrounded by moons and stars and milky ways and Oberon- Stark, right there with him, above him, making him see even more stars. “S-Stark-” he whispers. Around him, the scene intensifies and Oberon’s eyes glow even brighter. “Yes, that’s it, my sweet, my flower, my Parker-” Peter squeezes his eyes shut. “So close-” Peter isn’t sure if Oberon means himself or Peter, but either way, he’s right. “Wanna cum,” he gasps, biting into Oberon’s lower lip slightly. “Go on then, show me your beauty,” Oberon encourages, moving to sit up a little straighter and parting their faces from each other. Peter instinctively tries to move up along with Oberon, so he can keep their lips locked, but Oberon pushes him back down. The Fae’s thrusts are more calculated now, angled exactly where Peter needs him to go. His last free hand shifts to gently roll Peter’s balls while his other still pumps the young man’s shaft feverishly. “Stark!” Peter’s body thrashes and he cums, spilling himself all over Oberon’s hand and his own belly. He clenches down on the Fae’s cock and smiles deliriously when he milks Stark, the feeling of his insides being coated white adding another surge of pride and pleasure to his high. “Oh, flower,” Stark sighs, nearly dropping himself on top of Peter. “You were so good, so sweet.” Peter’s eyes are already closed, Oberon’s cock still sheathed inside of him. “Hmm…” Stark/Oberon shifts until they are both laying on their sides, bodies still flush together. “Will you sleep for me tonight?” Peter nods absentmindedly, still grinning ear to ear and basking in the afterglow. The smile brightens slightly when he feels Oberon’s lips press a soft kiss on his nose. “I will be here in the morning. Take your rest. I’ll hold you.” Peter drifts to sleep to the soft humming of the Fae’s voice. Not bad, he thinks before losing himself to slumber. Not bad at all. … A chilly breeze hits Peter’s face. His lips curl up and he turns, feeling around for Oberon. For Stark. His smile fades when the haze of just waking up fades and he notices just how cold the room actually is. His hand ends up on the cool flooring. Oberon isn’t there. Peter opens his eyes and sucks in some air when he notices there is snow. Inside. He quickly moves to sit upright, pulling the blankets up to keep himself warm, and he looks around. Oberon sits by the opened door, hands folded together in front of his mouth. He’s hunched up and his expression is stern. Tight. Worry settles in Peter’s stomach. “O-Oberon?” He isn’t sure if he should be saying the Fae’s actual name now. Oberon doesn’t look up. “Get dressed.” “Is something wrong?” Peter’s browns curl together. “Get. Dressed.” Peter remains seated, frozen in place and at a loss for words. When Peter still doesn’t move, Oberon finally turns his face to stare Peter down. “Do as you’re told.” “Excuse me?” The young man’s eyes go wide with surprise. Who does this man think he is? “You’re leaving,” Oberon says with a shaky voice. “Now.” He looks away again. “Get dressed.” The world around Peter collapses. Everything they had been through together, everything that had happened… Is over? “I don’t understand-” “Do not make me get over there and force you.” Peter immediately stands and grabs his clothes, feeling his tears threatening to spill. The only word going through is head right now is why. Why would Oberon do this? Why is he suddenly so different? Why does Peter have to leave so suddenly? Why is this happening? Once Peter is dressed, he grabs his phone from where it’s resting against a pillow. The screen doesn’t light up. Great; his new phone is dead too. He stares at his reflection in the dark screen. His cheeks are red and his eyes puffed. He blinks and then the tears fall. “Puck.” Peter gasps and looks up at the Fae who now stands. An odd glow now radiates from the middle of his chest. The man’s expression is pained, like he’s holding back. “You are no longer indebted to me. You are to go home and forget about us. Do not come back to these woods. Ever.” “You,” Peter pushes out through gritted teeth, his sadness slowly making place for anger. “You got what you wanted, didn’t you?” Oberon doesn’t speak. The only response Peter gets to his accusation is the twitch over Oberon’s upper lip. “You manipulated me enough to have sex with me and now you’re dropping me.” The Fae looks away and takes hold of the door, gesturing to outside. “Leave,” Oberon orders. “Please.” Peter is confused at how the Fae’s voice cracks, as if he actually cares about Peter. “Unbelievable,” the young man breathes. “I can’t believe I fell for this. For you!” “LEAVE!” The Fae’s aggression reverbs through the cottage, making it even colder than it already was. Peter’s jaw trembles as his tears now freely glide down his cheeks. Peter runs. Past the pots and pans at the cooking area, past the herbs hanging from the ceiling, past Oberon, through the door. The second he sets foot outside, he hears the door being thrown shut, but when he turns around he finds the cabin has disappeared entirely. It’s gone. And now Peter is alone in the woods. He shakes violently, dropping to his knees and sobbing. Part of him hopes that wherever Oberon is, that he can hear him wail. … When Peter arrives home, he plugs in his phone and heads to the shower. He feverishly washes himself, scrubbing his body and hating how he can still feel the Fae’s touch lingering on his skin. He wants it gone. Wants the Fae gone. He sobs under the stream, knowing damn well that he will never be able to get rid of the sensation of disgust. After an hour of letting his tears disappear in the drain, he turns off the tap, broken and drained- empty and dulled. He drops himself on his bed and simply lays there. He won’t be able to sleep anyways. … Peter is startled back to reality by his buzzing phone. The alarm he had set for the morning after Oberon went off, now that the battery was fully charged again. He swallows and grabs his phone, snoozing his alarm. He wants to put the phone away, but notices something is off. He unlocks it and the notification that caught his guard now fully pops up. Recording ended due to empty battery. Confused, yet curious, Peter opens his album to check which recording the notification meant. He blinks a few times when he spots the right one. Two hours and forty-two minutes. When did that happen? He selects it and starts the recording, not entirely unsurprised to be met by Oberon’s face, extremely close to the camera. The sight stings him. “Oh, this is a video right?” Oberon’s voice asks from the phone’s speakers. “Right. Well, hello, future Puck, I am going to show you something.” The Fae turns the camera to show a peacefully sleeping Peter. The camera moves closer to Peter and he can hear a bit of shuffling. He guesses Oberon went to lay down next to Peter. “Do you see your face?” Oberon’s voice is toned down and soft, now that he’s so close to Peter’s sleeping form. Peter watches what Oberon means, already feeling the tears sting in his eyes again. “You wear no mask now…” A hand appears from the corner of the screen to move a few of Peter’s curls out of the way. His fingers caress Peter’s cheek, causing an unwelcome shiver to run down Peter’s real spine. “You are at peace like this. So wonderful, so beautiful…” The Fae sighs content. “I could watch you like this for hours, you know?” “I know.” Peter is startled to hear himself talk in the video. In his sleep. Oberon chuckles. “Oh, do you?” “Mhm.” “Tell me, Puck, what is your favorite season?” “Spring.” “Well, aren’t you lucky that’s right around the corner.” Peter wants to throw his phone to the other side of the room. Oberon is having a conversation with him that he doesn’t remember having. Because he was asleep. It makes him feel uneasy and wonder what else the Fae asked him. “Think you can do some math right now? That ought to be fun to make you try.” The Peter in the video doesn’t reply, so Oberon simply continues. “Puck, what is two plus two?” “Four,” Peter replies promptly. “Easy.” “Alright how about twenty-one times forty-eight?” It’s quiet for a few seconds, but Peter replies still. “One thousand and eight.” “I honestly would not know how to check if it is correct, but I would surely assume you are correct.” Oberon asks Peter some more insignificant questions before falling silent again, simply looking at Peter. It seems he forgot he was filming Peter as the phone is quickly put away in a standing position. Peter guesses this was the spot he found his phone in, looking out over the entire cottage. Peter scrolls ahead in the video, not wanting to watch Oberon play with Peter’s hair for one and a half hours. Peter plays the video at normal speed again when he spots Oberon standing up. He shuffles around the room and speaks softly. “I will be out back to collect some more berries. Will you be alright, my love?” The name is a punch in the gut for Peter and he pulls at his hair. He doesn’t know why he’s still watching, but part of him wonders if whatever made Oberon change his mind like that so suddenly has been caught on camera. “Be fine,” Peter in the video mumbles bluntly. “Love you, bye.” A wide, surprised smile spreads on Oberon’s face and he walks out, mumbling something to himself. Again, nothing happens for half an hour, when suddenly… “Here you are…” A familiar voice speaks. A stranger saunters into Oberon’s cottage. Peter feels like he’s seen him somewhere before, but he can’t recall where. His eyes glow blue, like Oberon’s and when he reaches Peter, he squats down. “Didn’t expect someone as delectable as you to spend time with our heir.” Heir…? Peter’s skin crawls when the man’s hand traces down his bare body, curiously lifting the blankets and grinning wide at his findings. Peter instinctively clutches his sheets, covering himself more. He feels even more disgusted now. “Oh, aren’t you spent…” His eyes darken and his smirk turns ever so evil. “Used.” “Was so good,” the Peter in the video says. The man perks up surprised. “You speak in your slumber?” “Mm…” “Oh, what a nice turn of events…” The man’s hand cups Peter’s face. “Does the prince know your name?” Prince- “No- yes. A little.” “A little? How does that work?” “Last name.” “Oh, like so. Well then, sweet thing, what is your last name?” “Parker.” Peter feels the tug at his heart again. No, is all he can think. Don’t say more. “And then, if you’ll indulge me… What is your first name?” “Your voice is silenced in eclipse, no more words fall from your lips-” Oberon rushes in and reaches his hand forward at Peter, quieting him immediately. The second the spell has settled on Peter, Oberon’s eyes widen and he freezes before he collapses clutching his chest and letting out an agonized groan. Peter stirs, but the other Fae waves his hand once. “Do not wake ‘til morning comes, Parker, I have plans for you.” The man turns back to Oberon and scoffs a laugh. “I can spell him all I want, I have no promises to break. Unlike you, cousin.” Oberon gasps as he trembles, the area where he clutched his chest now glows blue like his eyes. Like Peter had seen the morning after. Oberon broke his promise and now had to deal with the consequences- the pain. He broke his promise; to protect Peter. “Why are you here,” Oberon seethes. “Why, I was quite intrigued to find this beautiful specimen in the woods yesterday. Searching for Oberon. I suppose that is you?” The man laughs condescendingly. “And you are not even king yet.” He turns back to Peter. “Pathetic… You didn’t even take his name.” “Step away from him.” “I will not. You have not claimed him, so I will.” “Mysterio-“ Oberon threatens, squaring up. His hands turn to ice like they had done when he almost spelled Flash. Snow is brought through the opened door by a wind Oberon conjures up. “Leave Puck alone.” “Oh!” Mysterio exclaims. “You call him Puck? And he calls you Oberon. How disgustingly sweet.” His expression drops. “I’m going to hurl.” “He’s not yours to take, leave us!” The snow in the cottage thickens as Oberon’s skin pales more with anger and cold magic. “Iron Man, do not tell me you love him.” Oberon’s jaw tightens at Mysterio’s condescending tone. “Oh, you love him.” Mysterio confirms to himself. “Well, then I’ll certainly enjoy taking him for myself.” “I will not let you!” Peter doesn’t understand why Oberon doesn’t just force the man out of his home. “You will, cousin.” Mysterio stands upright and circles Peter like a hawk, waiting for the right moment to take his prey. “For if you do not, I will tell all of Winter Court of the human you bedded. The human you want. The human you did not trick. The human who is not yours, for you do not have his name.” “You would not,” Oberon breathes. “All the Fae will come for him then. I won’t be able to protect him.” “That is what you are worried about?” Mysterio scoffs. “Not that your father will revoke your title and pass the throne to me for your dishonorable and disappointing behavior?” “I do not want to be a king like my father. The title means nothing to me.” “Then why not pass it to me?” “And leave you in charge of all of Winter Court? I’d rather eat my own two feet.” “Rude, much,” Mysterio says faux-offended. “Tell you what. I’m giving you one chance to redeem yourself.” “What will you have me do.” “Claim him.” “No,” Oberon immediately counters, taking two steps forward. Desperation seeps off every word. “No, please, do not make me do this.” “You choose, Oberon,” Mysterio taunts. “You either take his name and keep your honor, or you will lose your title to me and all of Winter Court will be scouring these woods to use him the way you would not.” He cocks his head and grins. “And I will be first in line. Your boy will certainly look lovely at my feet, having no choice but to worship me for all eternity.” “You disgust me,” Oberon seethes. Though, his magic loses power as his shoulders start hanging. “And you me, cousin.” Mysterio then steps over Peter’s body as he casually makes his way to the door, past Oberon. He places his hand on Oberon’s shoulder and pats twice. “Make our court proud.” Mysterio then leaves Oberon and Peter alone in the cottage- in the cold. Oberon’s sad eyes find Peter’s figure and after a minute of visibly holding in his tears he manages to shuffle towards Peter. A soft sob escapes his throat as he lays down next to Peter again, fixing his hair where Mysterio had undone it. The new light emitting from Oberon’s chest now lights up both of their faces. The Fae waves his hand over Peter’s face to undo the spell he had put on him. He then sniffs and the Peter watching the video cries along with him. “Oh, Puck, my flower,” Oberon mumbles through his tears. “I do not wish to lose you. I want to keep you.” “Keep me,” sleeping Peter replies softly. Oberon swallows and closes his eyes. “I can’t.” “Keep me,” Peter repeats. “No.” Oberon is sobbing quietly now. His shoulders shake with every intake of breath. “No.” The Fae presses his lips together and swallows. “I love you too much to keep you.” “Love you too, bye.” Oberon can’t help but scoff a quiet laugh through his tears. Peter is still asleep. Whatever he says is steered on by his subconscious. It’s quiet for a few minutes, but Peter can’t get himself to stop the video. He watches as all possible emotions in existence pass over Oberon’s face. “Puck,” Oberon asks suddenly. Peter holds his breath, anticipating the question. “What is your name?” Peter stares breathlessly at the screen, but when the Peter in the video opens his mouth to speak, Oberon swiftly covers it. “No. No, I do not want it.” He averts his gaze. “I should not have asked to begin with, I am sorry.” “It’s okay,” sleeping Peter answers, probably only responding to the I am sorry part, not actually aware of what it was attached to. “It is not.” It’s quiet again for a little bit. Peter notices the video is almost at its end. He wonders if anything else will be said before his phone’s battery died. In the last thirty seconds, Oberon speaks once more. “I have decided to let you go, flower.” Oberon’s words are shaky. “You deserve your freedom more than I deserve anything else.” Peter is sobbing now, so painfully aware of the things he had accused Oberon of when he left the cottage. “You will never see me again after this, so I want- I want you to have this… To have mine.” Peter frowns through his tears. His…? His what? “My name…” Peter’s eyes widen and he sits up straight in his bed. Is Oberon giving him the one thing they would never share? “My name is-” Peter stares at a black screen as the video and audio cut right when Oberon was about to say his name. After five solid minutes of being frozen in place, something in his mind finally clicks. He has to go back. Back to the woods, back to Oberon. Stat. Straight away. Pronto. Immediately. Now. … Peter runs as fast as his legs can carry him. The ground in the woods is treacherous and uneven, but he can’t get himself to slow down. The wind cuts the skin on his face and his quick breath condenses in front of his mouth. “OBERON!” His screams carry far. “OBERON, COME TO ME!” He nearly trips, causing him to stop running altogether. “OBERON, PLEASE!” he cries out. “PLEASE!” Peter wants to protect Oberon the way he had protected May. Mysterio hadn’t given Oberon this third option; to let Peter leave. It was a risk Oberon had taken in an attempt to go around Mysterio’s threat, since in both, Peter’s freedom would be taken. The Fae was presented with two choices: claim the name or don’t and suffer the consequences. Thing is, Oberon did not claim Peter’s name. That means Mysterio will still tell all of Winter Court about Peter. Oberon will lose the throne and be shunned from his people forever. That is why Peter is here. Oberon has to take his name. He simply has to. And now, Peter is more than ready to give it to him. The Fae had sent Peter away to protect him from being taken, but there is nothing he wants more right now then to be taken. By no one other than- “OBERON!” It’s no use. Peter has been walking for hours now, searching the woods for any sign of the Fae. Or any Fae for that matter. He assumes they would’ve already found him by now, but they are nowhere to be seen. He unlocks his phone and swears when he realizes what day it is. The human world and the Fae world are parallel to each other and they only really mingle on the actual Pagan celebrations. It’s no longer Imbolc. The veil is back. Peter couldn’t find any fairy circles or other signs of passage to their realm in his desperate attempt to locate Oberon, which means there is no way he can find the Fae before the next time Oberon and he were supposed to meet. Ostara. March 21st. Defeated, Peter falls to his knees on the forest floor, clutching his phone against his chest and crying without tears. He had none left. Peter inwardly has to tell himself that he is going to have to go home… And that he is about to face the longest one and half months of his life…

#starker #fae!fic #company #ironman #iron man #spiderman #spider man #spider-man #ironspider #peter parker x tony stark #peter x tony #peter parker/tony stark #peter/tony #tony/peter #tony stark/peter parker #tony x peter #tony stark x peter parker #peter parker #tony stark #kinkybeanlien #kinkybeanlienwrites #fae!tony #human!peter #ao3 fic #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fic #fan fiction #marvel #marvel cinematic universe

[dawnie1988]

Summary: When setting up a dating profile, a picture really is worth a thousand words. And it turns out that, sometimes, getting that perfect photo requires the assistance of a helping hand

Words: 1,853

Pairings: Dean, Unnamed OFC - Who may or may not be loosely based on the same woman who inspired this whole thing in the first place

Warnings: Language, Bad Lighting, Impatient Doggies......That should just about cover it

A/N: Umm, so surprise! I did a thing! Inspired by this *gif set* and the subsequent conversation after with the amazing @thoughtslikeaminefield​​ regarding just how it was Dean got that profile picture for the dating app. It was only meant to be a fun little joke type thing of sorts, but after getting love and encouragement from some very fine ladies that I admire greatly, it is now seeing the light of tumblr. Miss MJ was also kind enough to give it a look through for a little clean up and any major mistakes and created the fantastic header! It really does pay to have friends in high places 😊

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

This was stupid.

 He was, he had no problem saying, one of the best hunters in the world. He had saved the world multiple times. Yeah, ok, maybe Sam helped a little, but still. He had fought both heaven and hell more times than he could count anymore.

 And yet, here he stood, unable to get one decent picture of himself.

 Stupid.

 It was the only thing left to do to complete his profile, to add his profile picture. He had been very tempted to just leave it blank, or just put a logo of something he liked. But that wouldn't do. You go on a dating site and refuse to put up an actual photo of yourself? Pshhh, yeah, because that doesn't just scream: STRANGER DANGER! I HAVE SOMETHING TO HIDE!

 The whole point was to attract potential dates, not scare them away before he even had a chance to lay on the charm. And, plus, how would he attract anyone without actually showing off the goods?

 Advertising. It's all in the advertising.

The problem was, try as he might, he couldn't get a fitting picture of himself. Not one that truly showed off his full appeal.

 What? He wasn't allowed to think himself a handsome son of a bitch without being considered arrogant? Screw that! Body positivity, man. We're all beautiful in our own way, we should all believe it.

 Maybe he should put that in his profile too? Didn't chicks dig shit like that? Whatever…

 The photo. That was the issue. He couldn't ask Sam to do it, fuck no. He'd never let Dean hear the end of it if he knew he even had a dating profile. Besides, this was none of Sam's business. What Dean did in his private time was his and his alone.

 But, as it turned out, Dean wasn't very proficient in the art of selfie-taking. For one, the lighting in the bunker was horrendous. He'd gone all throughout their underground home and the results were either him bathed in shadows or being completely washed out underneath the harsh, fluorescent lights.

 And trying to find a flattering angle was damn near impossible! How the hell all those social media people did it was beyond him. Clearly, they were using every filter imaginable to improve their outcome. Not him though. Artificial was not his style. No enhancements needed.

Self. Love. People.

 It was as he was pacing around in the garage, trying to formulate his next plan of attack when inspiration struck. He caught Baby's eye — er, headlight, and Yahtzee!

 Baby was a total chick magnet. And, where did they both shine the most? That's right, out in the clear wide open. On the road, sun shining, not a care in the world. Natural lighting.

 Perfect.

 He drove for a while, scouting possible locations along the way while also simply enjoying the quiet time with Baby. Even if he was on a mission.

 Eventually, he pulled off the road near a lakefront that also served as a nice walking path for nature lovers. It was a beautiful, clear day, the whole scene very idyllic.

 This was it. This was the spot.

 However, there was still the hiccup of actually getting the picture taken. After the slightly traumatizing experience of trying to take his selfie, he couldn't bring himself to attempt that avenue again. He thought he could still do it himself regardless. There was a fence nearby, all he had to do was set the timer on the phone and presto! Done!

 You would think, that is.

 In reality, every time he tried to prop his phone up it would fall back down before he could even make it back to Baby.

 Just as he was about to throw the godforsaken device, like an angel from heaven — the fairytale kind, not the dicks with wings — she appeared.

 "Need some help there?"

 As if he had been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to, Dean quickly whipped around and was greeted by the lovely sight of a woman, perhaps a little older than himself, walking her two dogs.

 He took just a moment, because he simply had too, to admire her beauty. Sun-kissed skin, freckles that put his own to shame, friendly hazel eyes that held a multitude of warmth…

 Yes. An angel seemed a very apt description.

 Dean cleared his throat before an uncomfortable amount of silence was allowed to pass between them, feeling a slight blush tinged his cheeks when his mind came back around to acknowledge her question.

 "Uh, actually I umm… yes," he fumbled out.

 Why was he suddenly nervous? He felt so out of place now, he didn't like it. Still, he continued.

 "You see, I…"

 The woman cut him off — a mercy killing, it felt like to Dean — with a raised hand.

 "Let me guess, dating profile?" she asked, not at all trying to hide the knowing smirk.

 Something in Dean loosened at the understanding he found in his new acquaintance’s gaze. Shoulders relaxing, he let out a slightly bashful chuckle while giving a one-shoulder shrug.

 "Guilty. That obvious, huh?"

 She gave a small shake of her head. "Game recognizes game. I have my own experience and horror stories involving the dreaded profile picture. If you want, I can give you a hand?"

 Dean's eyes lit up at the offer. He knew it. He was not ashamed of it.

 "Yeah?"

 She laughed at his eagerness, a sweet-sounding melody, Dean noted to himself.

 "Sure. After all, I couldn't just leave you here without putting you out of your misery first. I'm no monster."

 She was teasing, of course. It didn't stop Dean from having to bite his tongue and swallow the comment about monsters that begged to be spoken. If only he had a nickel for every time he had heard that line.

 "Okay, awesome. Thank you."

 "No problem," she replied easily, accepting the phone he was handing over. "And I'm assuming you want that beauty in the photo with you?" she asked him, indicating Baby, earning a proud smile from Dean in return.

 As he said, Baby was a total chick magnet.

 "Duh."

 She laughed again, much louder and freer this time and the sound again had Dean grinning as he made the walk over to his trusty wing woman.

 "Nice choice. Okay, then, handsome, what are we going for here?"

 Dean faltered in his step slightly. "Uhh, how do you mean?"

 "I mean," she paused for a moment, readjusting the grip she had on the two leashes when the pooches started getting antsy. "What vibe are you trying to portray here? Brooding? Mysterious? Friendly?"

 "Oh, right!" Dean nodded his understanding.

 He thought it over, tilting his head slightly as he contemplated the pros and cons of the different choices in his head.

 "May I offer a suggestion?"

 "Sure, by all means."

 "Well, online dating can be intimidating enough as it is," she began matter-of-factly. "All you've got is a picture and a few words to go on. So, speaking solely on my own experiences, I tend to gravitate towards the more friendly option. You try to be sexy and it feels too put on and forced. You try to be mysterious and all I'm left thinking is what are you trying to hide. But friendly, easy-going and approachable is always a winner. That, makes me want to get to know you a little more. At least enough to read your profile anyways."

 Dean, eyebrows raised and mouth pulled down some, nodded in appreciation. This lady really knew what she was talking about.

 "Right, so friendly it is, then." He clapped his hands together and went to lean against Baby's side before stopping, thinking it over a second and deciding to hop on the hood instead, talking out his thoughts as he tried to determine the perfect pose.

 "So, not too posey, don't try too hard but at least put a little effort in to show I care…." he fidgeted around for a few moments more before falling into a comfortable, casual feeling position. "How's this?" he looked up, waiting for some affirmation.

 Dean would be lying if he said her genuine smile didn't make his stomach flutter a bit.

 "Looks good. Okay, on the count of three, give me your most inviting smile. No teeth though, just easy breezy. Ready?"

 "Ready."

 "One, two, three."

 She tapped the screen to capture the shot and immediately started walking over after checking the results. "I think we have a winner here."

 She handed the phone over to him and he couldn't help the satisfied smile from gracing his lips.

 Damn, he looked good.

 "Nice," he complimented her photography skills. "Well, Hell, I think you're right, I think this is it."

 He made quick work of uploading the photo to the app and confirming his information before finally hitting the 'submit' button to post his profile. He then turned the phone around for her to see again. "Whaddya think?"

 She leaned in closer, shoulder bumping his and dogs yapping around their legs as she looked over his full profile before nodding in approval. "Yup, you'll be beating them away with a stick in no time!"

 His chest may have puffed up with pride a little. Only a little.

 "Yeah? Awesome." He exited out of the app, ignored the text message from Sam wanting to know where the Hell he was and slid his phone into his back pocket.

 "Thanks again. It's, ah…" he brought a hand up to rub at the back of his neck. "All pretty awkward, but you were a big help."

 She gifted him with a megawatt smile as she untangled her dogs from around his legs, getting them ready to continue their walk. "No problem. Good luck with all that. Stay safe out there!"

 She began walking away and Dean found that he couldn't not do it. He had to, right?

 Right.

 "Hey!" he called out, switching gears and putting on his 'wooing' smile, lowering his voice an octave. "Ya know, maybe if you're not busy, I can take you for a cup of coffee or something sometime? My way of..." Dean let the tip of his tongue sneak out to wet his bottom lip while giving her a once over. "Thanking you, properly?"

 She was silent for a moment, brows raising slightly in surprise before a slow smile started to brighten her face up once more. She looked down for a tick, letting out a sound of amusement before meeting his eyes once again.

 "That's sweet, and I'm flattered, really, but I'm afraid I can't."

 Dean's smile fell some in disappointment. "Oh."

 "It's just — your profile says that you’re seeking woman,” she explained, much to Dean's confusion.

 "Oh...?" he trailed off, brows pinched as she started walking backward and away from him.

 "So am I."

 She gave him a wink before turning fully and continuing on. Out of his life.

 Dean could only roll his eyes.

 "Figures," he muttered grumpily to himself as he made his way back to Baby. "All the good ones are either taken or gay."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Tagging the cheerleading squad I had behind this: @thoughtslikeaminefield​ @fangirlxwritesx67​ @itmighthavebeenintentional​ @there-must-be-a-lock​ @cracksinthewalls​ @rockhoochie​ @mskathywriteswords​ @fookinghelljensensthighs​ @cherry3point14​ @lastactiontricia​ @icemankazansky​ @stusbunker​ @justcallmeasmodeus​

#supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #spn fanfic #ofc #dean winchester fanfic #dating is hard #taking a good selfie is harder #baby gets all the chicks #dogs get cranky when their walk is interrupted #this is not your mother's 101 dalmatians meet cute #i can't think of anything else to tag #it's weird being on this side of things #writing is hard!

[paranoia-assault]

Fate/Stay Night Review

I've been meaning to get around to this for a while, so this post will contain my thoughts on Fate/Stay Night. I'll be going in order of how you're supposed to play the routes. Massive spoilers btw. Also this is copied over from Twitter, so sorry for any weird formatting.

Keep in mind I enjoyed every route, so any negative points I bring up never made me think the route wasn't worth reading. That said, UBW > HF > Fate, so we'll be starting with my least favorite route.

There's 2 reasons why the Fate route is my least favorite. The first is that is has to explain a lot, so it feels like not much happens in it compared to the other two routes. The second is Shirou's "girls can't fight" bullshit. I can't stand Shirou in the 1st half of the route.  Shirou does get better, but this is probably my least favorite version of him. I cannot stand every moment he tries to hold Saber back from fighting and almost gets himself killed because "girls can't fight." It is extremely aggravating.

That said, Shirou is fantastic in the second half of the route. The Fate route is Saber's story, and he plays the perfect part in it. His dream of being a super hero goes perfectly with her wish of being a great king. Seeing these ideologies clash, then come together, is amazing. It's why I like the Shirou/Saber ship despite Shirou/Rin being my favorite. These two were practically made for each other. Last Episode only adds to this, and it made me retroactively like the Fate route more. Saber's ending was beautiful and their eventual reunion even more so.

Illya was also great as a villain. I do think Gilgamesh and Kirei both have routes where they shine better as villains, so when I think "the villain of the Fate route," it's Ilya who comes to mind. Berserker was the perfect threat, and the two together were genuinely terrifying.

Summed up thoughts on the Fate route: Good starting point. A bit slow, and Shirou is very annoying in the first half, but the Saber/Shirou dynamic in the second half makes the route worth playing. 7/10.

Time for my favorite route: Unlimited Blade Works. I fucking adore this route. When I think "Fate/Stay Night," this is the route that comes to mind. If I were to recommend one route, it would be this one. I even plan on watching the anime for it at some point.

The main reason I love this route is Shirou. UBW Shioru specifically is one of my favorite Fate characters. He is confronted with a massive challenge to his ideals. He's pretty much shown they're flawed. But rather than toss them aside, he strengthens his convictions. He denies his future self, determined to be different. Yeah, his ideals might have flaws, but why should that matter? Carrying on Kiritsugu's dream is meaningful to him. The pain is worth saving those he can. Even if it's a thankless, miserable task, he won't turn away from it.

Oh, and let's talk about Archer. I love him. Seeing a pessimistic side of Shirou, a potential result of his ideals, was fascinating. I was genuinely shocked when the twist happened, and it made me deeply appreciate Archer's character. Archer is another of my favorite F/SN chars.

Now, let's talk about my favorite F/SN character, Rin. Rin is great. She was trained to understand and accomplish what has to be done, but has a soft spot not unlike Shirou's that leads her to help others. She had a painful upbringing, but doesn't regret a second of it.

She is the perfect foil for Shirou. She recognizes the pain his ideals are putting him through, but rather than force him to throw them away, she decides to stay with him to make sure he doesn't push himself too far. She tries to help Shriou learn to enjoy himself. Shirou/Rin is my favorite ship in the VN for this reason. They compliment each other so well. Their personalities clash in a way that lets them both grow, and they're genuinely cute together, though you can say that last part about any of the 3 main Shirou ships.

The villains are also great. Caster isn't the same type of threat as Illya/Berserker, but her backstory and dynamic with her Master is really interesting to see. I enjoyed her moments on screen. Gilgamesh was the perfect final boss for this route though. Specifically for Shirou. Gilgamesh' powers match Shirou's reality marble perfectly. Infinite Noble Phantasms. Gilgamesh calls Shirou fake, but that leads to Shirou showing how an imitation can outclass the original. It's such a smart hero/villain dynamic, and the perfect end to Shirou's story in UBW.

Saber even gets some closure in this route, though not as much as in Fate. She gets to be Rin's Servant at the end (which I adored btw), and once again chooses to destroy the girl, moving on from her past. Also, she lives in the good ending which makes me happy.

I also need to talk about Illya. Her scene with Berserker is one of her best scenes in the entire VN. She's barely on screen in this route compared to the other routes, but somehow she made just as much of an impact with that time. I felt so bad for her in that last scene.

Summed up thoughts on the UBW route: This route is where all the characters shone their brightest. Shirou's ideals are handled perfectly, almost every Servant gets the attention they deserve, and the writing is overall high quality the entire route. 9/10.

Finally, Heaven's Feel...I think my thoughts on this route will be the most controversial, as I have very mixed feelings. 

I do want to say this first. I love Sakura. She is a fantastic character, and she deserves the world. I'm glad she gets the spotlight in this route.

I also think Kirei was at his best this route. His backstory, along with his final confrontation with Shirou, were both extremely well written. He went from a despicable villain to a despicable written I love to hate. He almost stole the show as much as Sakura did, honestly.

Rider was great this route. I love the twist that Sakura is her true master, and her protective nature over Sakura was great to see. This is the only route where she manages to stand her ground against Saber for a decent period of time, too. I'm glad she lives to the end.

The highlight of the route, however, has to be Sakura and Rin's bond. Learning that they were sisters, and seeing them slowly and awkwardly get closer, is fantastic. That final confrontation between the two of them blew me away with the spectacle & Rin using the second sorcery. Of course, the hug that ended the fight was the best part. Rin realizing she can't kill Sakura after all, despite everything she said to Shirou, was beautiful. Sakura's horror at thinking she killed her sister, showing she's not a full monster yet, was tragically heartwarming.

Them bringing the sorceries in with Illya and Rin was nice. I like how we got an epilogue that took place two years after the final battle rather than a few months. There is a lot to like about this route. 

...But there's also a lot I don't like.

Zouken and Assassin are just...okay villains. I don't think they're terrible, but they're not as interesting as any of the other villains in F/SN. 

My main complaint is that this route introduced too much. So many elements are here that aren't even touched on in previous routes. Zouken, true Assassin, the crest worms, the true Holy Grail, Angru Mainyu, these are all elements of the route that I'm just supposed to accept only come into play under these circumstances. Sometimes it feels like they came up with it all after the other two routes were written. None of them are badly written per se, it just feels so out of nowhere that I couldn't fully get into the story here. 

As for what I do think is badly written...I don't like Shirou in this route. He feels more selfish than in the others, often pushing aside others' feelings. The main moment that comes to mind is when Illya goes with Sakura. When Shirou finds her, he slaps her and yells at her, not accepting her feelings of wanting the end of her life to be meaningful. And there is no way to escape her death. The route makes that clear. Shirou also throws away his ideals for Sakura, which I don't like. The route before this one had him stick to his ideals despite being given evidence of the despair it will lead to. Yet here he tosses them aside without that, simply for one person.

Maybe badly written was too harsh. Shirou's fine, I like him more than in the first half of the Fate route, but he just doesn't seem to fit with the other instances of Shirou, and there were often times he frustrated me. Again, I did love his confrontation with Kirei though.

Now for the romance of this route. Shirou/Sakura. I'm sorry, but...I'm not a fan of this one. It's cute, even made me emotional at times. I think these two can have a great relationship. The thing is, I don't like how it happens here specifically. I think these two are way too dependent on each other, to the point that one can't live without the other. Just look at the bad ending where Rin kills Sakura and Shirou gives up entirely, or the normal ending where Sakura wastes away her life after Shirou's death. There's even a physical dependence due to the state of Shirou's body at the end of the route. It's honestly worrying how much they need one another.

I think they can grow past this, and I'm sure they do since the true end is a happy one. I don't hate their ship. It's my least favorite of the three, but I can easily see it being someone's favorite. Hell, I know someone for who it is. The ship isn't awful, just has some issues.

Back to the route as a whole, it is certainly the most ambitious, but I think they got carried away at times. It's certainly more geared toward horror as well, especially with those bad endings. Not that that's a bad thing, even if I'm not often into horror.

Summed up thoughts on the HF route: A spectacular finale to the VN, but it has a few hiccups along the way. There are a lot of great character moments and interesting ideas that make it worth the time. The true ending is beautiful as well. 8/10.

Overall thoughts on F/SN: A great time that I would recommend to anyone who can get it working on their computer. Fantastic characters and cool concepts drive what can be just decent writing at times, and the high points are really high. Definitely worth the lows. 8/10.

Quick add on for my thoughts on the prequel, Fate/Zero: An amazing first half that got me attached to so many characters, but it falls apart in the second half due to Gen Urobuchi's more problematic writing tendencies. Those have been discussed to death, so I won’t go into detail on them here, Still, the show has enough moments that make it worth watching. 6/10.

That's my experience with Fate so far. I'm about halfway through the first arc of FGO, so I'll make a thread summarizing my thoughts on each singularity when the time comes. Also I want to read Fate/Hollow Ataraxia if I can. Overall I can say I’m glad I got into this franchise, and I’m excited to engage in more Fate content.

Anyway, this review took me 80 minutes to write, and another 15 to copy over here. Clearly I’m pretty passionate about this franchise.

#fate #fate stay night #fate stay series #fate stay ubw #unlimited blade works #heaven's feel #fate stay night spoilers

[chelsfic]

The Hot List, in which the NYC Familiar Discord Ranks their Masters - Nandor x Guillermo Fanfic (one-shot, crack!)

Summary: The familiars of New York City use Discord to connect and blow off steam...and also to rank their masters’ hotness. Nandor discovers this impertinence and throws an internet fit.

Tags: Crack with a touch of angst

A/N: I don’t know. 

---

NYC Familiar Chat #thirsty

Celeste-is-Best: nngh, have you guys seen Mr. 50ss’s’s’ss instagram story????

Celeste-is-Best: He’s so pretty! it’s like turn me, already!

Imurdad | colby: I know, right? I can’t believe he’s only 7 on the hot list…

[Gigi the great and sam teh pretty like this]

Gigi the great: Don’t forget to vote on this month’s poll!!

Best Hair!

We’re the ones who make them look pretty--but who’s the prettiest one of all? This month we’re voting on the NYC vampire with the best hair. Cast your vote!

A. Simon the Devious

B. Nandor the Relentless

C. Tilda

D. Evan

E. Houston

F. Nancy the Relentless

---

Guillermo locked his phone with a little smile. If he could he’d vote a hundred times for Nandor’s hair. It was unlikely that his master would win against the likes of Evan, Tilda and Nancy. He’d thrown Simon on there as a joke and was kind of horrified by how many familiars seemed to be into the limp mullet look. To each their own, he guessed.

On that note, it was almost nightfall and Nandor’s hair wasn’t going to brush itself. Guillermo made his way into the crypt, lighting candles and gathering the soft brush, comb, detangler spray and hair oils. Nandor was what he lovingly referred to as “high maintenance.” He was also surprisingly pitiful for a 750-year old warlord. It took Guillermo ages every night to carefully tease out and brush the knots from his hair without hurting him. It should’ve been annoying after so many years, but the chore remained one of the highlights of Guillermo’s day. 

For one thing, he got to touch his master without being scolded or hissed at. So that was nice. For another thing, Nandor’s hair was as soft as his personality was prickly. Guillermo would often drag out the task, running his fingers through the silky strands and lightly touching Nandor’s jaw to get him to tilt his head this way or that. 

He was doing just that, as well as admiring the expanse of cream and bronze skin revealed by the open collar of Nandor’s loose shirt, when the vampire opened his mouth. 

“Guillermooo...Did you happen to get any virgins for tonight?”

Guillermo’s fingers momentarily tightened around a hank of his master’s hair. He imagined giving it a sharp tug. He forced himself to loosen his grip and replied, “No, master, I’m sorry. Virgins are getting pretty thin on the ground lately. I managed to pick up a couple people from a bible study class, though. They should taste pretty innocent, right?”

Nandor made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat before answering, “You’d be surprised.”

---

NYC Familiar Chat #the-struggle

Gigi the great: I know we all jealously guard our sources, but I’ve been in a dry spell for a few weeks and my master is going to lose it and drink me one of these nights. Anyone have any new leads on virgins in the area?

Gigi the great: I’ve tried the usual stuff...LARPers, church socials, chastity clubs (surprisingly unhelpful…). I’m kinda desperate!

Direct Messages

Celeste-is-Best: only because you had my back last month when I ran out of burial sites…

Gigi the great: OMG! Celeste, please!! 🙏 🥺

Celeste-is-Best: there’s a magic the gathering tournament in brighton heights this weekend...😈

Gigi the great: You are like the virgin whisperer, Celeste. Thank you!

Celeste-is-Best: np

Celeste-is-Best: hey! Are you posting the poll results soon? I voted for Tilda--don’t tell Houston!! LOL

#main

Gigi the great: The results are in! The vampire with the best hair in NYC is……..EVAN!

Check out the Google Form for the full results...

docs.google.com...best_hair

Evan (26%)

Tilda (22%)

Nancy the Relentless (17%)

Simon the Devious (16%)

Nandor the Relentless (13%)

Houston (6%)

---

“What are you typing over there on your intelligent phone?”

Guillermo hurriedly tucked his phone away and looked up to find his master mopping blood from his mouth with a lace-trimmed handkerchief. They were in an alleyway a few buildings down from the comic shop. The limp body of Nandor’s victim lay discarded on the dirty ground. Guillermo smiled affectionately at Nandor trying and failing to clean himself. He took the hanky from him and set about doing the job himself. The snow white fabric was quickly drenched in dark red arterial blood. 

“I was just, um...checking on another potential virgin source,” he lied. 

The familiar Discord was strictly secret. If any of their masters ever found it and saw their human servants’ uncensored discussions... The thought sent a panicked tremor down Guillermo’s spine and he thought--for the thousandth time--that he should delete the app and not look back. But the idea of continuing with this emotionally draining, thankless job without his little support system was just as disturbing. Besides, the server had really come through for him tonight.

“Well done, Guillermo!” Nandor praised him and Guillermo’s heart swelled pathetically. A small, shameful part of him imagined Nandor patting him on the head and he didn’t hate it. “That was the most delicious virgin I’ve had in months!”

“Thank you, master,” Guillermo smiled sweetly, his cheeks dimpling. Nandor watched him for a long moment and he could swear he saw his master’s eyes linger on his mouth. He shut that thought down before it could bloom into a hope that was only doomed for disappointment. 

“Well…I’ll see you back at the house.” Nandor vanished before his eyes, taking his bat form and darting out of the alley with a high-pitched squeak and a furious flap of his leathery wings.

Guillermo sighed, looked at the broken body and wondered if he’d be able to fit his car down the narrow alley or if he’d have to drag the corpse to the opening. He fished out his keys and started the short walk back to his parking spot. All the while thinking, with distracted horror, Simon the Devious beat out Nandor for best hair?!? Really?

---

Direct Messages

Gigi the great: Hey, thanks! The Magic tournament was a hit!

Celeste-is-Best: i do live to serve…

Gigi the great: Har har.

#bitch-session

mish-bish: Ugh!!! Pretty sure my asshole master is hypnotizing me again.

call-me-karen: That’s rough, Misha! You wanna talk about it? My master lets me take the car whenever I want. I can come pick you up…

mish-bish: Yeah, like...I definitely have a huge black hole in my memories from last night. Fuck.

mish-bish: Oh, that’s ok Karen. Thanks.

Gigi the great: Hey @mish-bish. Sorry you’re having a hard time. If you feel up to it, check out the #support channel. A lot of other familiars have gone through this and talked about it there. Sometimes it helps to hear how others cope!

---

“Guillermo! Guillermoooo!”

Nandor’s panicked bellow reached him all the way in the basement where he was checking his lye supply. Guillermo huffed it up the stairs and raced into the fancy room where he found his master staring aghast at his laptop.

“Wh-what is it, master?” he asked, bent over and catching his breath.

“Someone named...Rap4Unlyfe has sent me a fake news!” Nandor wailed, gesturing to the laptop as if the device was personally responsible. 

Guillermo suppressed an eyeroll and walked over to sit beside his master. He watched in dismay as Nandor scooched farther down the couch but he tried not to let it sting too much. 

The browser was open to Nandor’s Hotmail account. He leaned forward to read the open message, unsure what to expect. The blood drained from his face as he read.

from: [email protected]

cc:  [email protected]; [email protected]; [email protected] ...

subject: rofl bahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahah

yooooooooooooooooOO!

Has ne1 else seen there familiars on this site??? I hypnotized mine last nite to give me his phone password and...👀 

Mierda. There were two screenshots attached. One was the survey results page from the “best hair” poll. The other was an excerpt from the chat, specifically Guillermo posting the winner of the poll and the link to the results. 

Guillermo’s face fell into an adorably distressed frown. He darted a glance at Nandor but the vampire just looked confused. It wasn’t clear if he yet suspected that his own familiar might be “Gigi the great.”

“Huh…” Guillermo leaned back and smoothed his expression into one of untroubled amusement. “You’re right, looks like fake news. You should probably just ignore it.”

Nandor punched his fist into his thigh and snapped, “But Guillermo! I cannot let this go unanswered! This...this...ludicrous insult! Imagine...me losing a hair contest. Everyone knows I have the most beautiful hair!”

Guillermo blushed magnificently, “Of course, master! This is just...a prank. Someone playing a mean trick on you. You shouldn’t give them the satisfaction--”

The laptop chimed. Guillermo dove to prevent Nandor from reaching it but the vampire simply slapped him away with a petulant whine, “Give me that! Fucking guy…”

Nandor’s lips curled into a snarl as his eyes scanned over the screen. 

“Oh, no! Now they are making a mockery of me on the ether net!”

from: [email protected] 

cc: [email protected]; [email protected]; [email protected]… 

subject: RE: rofl bahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahah

Oh! That is too delicious! Suck it, Houston and Nandor! 

It gets even better. Have you seen this, yet?

vamp_hot_list.doc 

“Guillermo, what is a hot list?” Nandor asked with a worried frown, clicking on the attachment. 

“No, master! Don’t--”

It was too late. He watched as his master’s eyes lit with understanding and then intrigue and finally outrage.

“29?! I am number 29 on your dirty hot vampire list!? What is the meaning of this?” Nandor bristled like an angry porcupine, his eyes shooting metaphorical quills into Guillermo’s soft flesh.

“It’s not my list, master!” he insisted and then, guiltily, “Not only mine…”

“Guillermo!” Nandor gasped, his eyes returning to the screen for a moment before pinning him with outraged accusation. “So, it is you!? You are...Gigi the great? Well, I do not think you are so great, little guy! In fact I think you’re pretty un-great right now! And disrespectful!”

Guillermo sank into the couch cushions, melting under his master’s ire and replying miserably, “It’s not as bad as it looks!”

Nandor turned back to the screen and began reading off names from the top of the list, “Viago! Nancy the Relentless! Evan! I suppose these are all vampires you’ve been dreaming of doing the hanky panky with! Putting them on the top of your list above your own master! That’s two demerits, Guillermo!”

“What!? No! Master, I didn’t make the list! We vote on it! Everyone gets a say. If I made the list of course you’d be at the top--”

Guillermo snapped his mouth shut. His face was on fire and he felt like crying. Nandor must have some inkling of his crush, right? After ten years of service? This couldn’t really be the life-ending mortification that it felt like. He waited, wide-eyed, for his master’s reaction. Nandor stared at him, his huge, dark eyes filled with shock and anger. After a long minute he turned back to the laptop, waving a hand dismissively in Guillermo’s face.

“Go to your room now, Guillermo! I need to think of how to punish this impertinence!”

Guillermo stood, barely holding in humiliated tears. He gestured to the device in Nandor’s lap, “My laptop…”

Nandor held it out of Guillermo’s reach and hissed, “No! Vampire only computer time, Guillermo!”

Guillermo left, trudging out of the room with a sinking feeling in his stomach as the sound of Nandor’s flop-wristed typing followed him out the door.

---

#main

Gigi the great: Is everyone okay?

call-me-karen: not fukcing great!

Imurdad | colby: Seriously! WTF!!?

Gigi the great is typing…

Guillermo lay on his little cot with the crocheted blanket his amá made for him pulled up to his chin. Tears streaked down his cheeks and the phone’s glare reflected in his glasses. He thought back to every off handed complaint, every silly photo turned into a “master-shaming” meme, every confession, every joke. All of them laid bare to the world. The Discord server started out as goofy, harmless fun. The hot list was the perfect embodiment of that. But it became so much more. Being a familiar could be lonely. You were isolated from other humans and surrounded by cold, uncaring monsters all the time. Guillermo loved Nandor. Everyone knew this...there were even memes about it on the server! But sometimes his master’s aloofness got to be too much and he needed to reach out to other humans who understood him! 

He threw his phone down onto the mattress, angrily pawing at his teary eyes and wondering if this was it. Not just the end of NYC Familiar Chat, but the end of Guillermo the Great, his long-dreamed-of vampire alias. There was no way Nandor would keep him as a familiar after this…

---

Direct Messages

Celeste-is-Best: OMG! Guillermo, have you seen this?

Celeste-is-Best: http://familiar-hot-list.colinrobinson.net

Celeste-is-Best: hey, if this is Nandor’s big revenge scheme I think you’re going to be ok

Celeste-is-Best: we miss you! 

---

Guillermo heard his master calling him and cringed. It had been a week since the hot list incident and Nandor had spent every waking moment making little jabs at his familiar and grousing about how he’d been betrayed on the internet. But to Guillermo’s surprisingly intense relief, he hadn’t been fired. After ten years of disappointment and hopeless pining, Guillermo half-expected to welcome the prospect of finally being put out of his misery, so to speak. He was kind of shocked, therefore, to feel happiness and gratitude that his master had decided to keep him around, even if only as a verbal punching bag.

He found Nandor in the library, smugly brandishing the purloined laptop. 

“Come have a look at your punishment, Guillermo,” Nandor patted the couch beside him. “This is what happens when you disrespect vampires on the ether net.”

Guillermo swallowed the lump in his throat and collapsed beside Nandor feeling like a man condemned. Their thighs pressed together but for once Nandor didn’t move away. He shoved the laptop at Guillermo and handed him a yellow sticky note with Colin Robinson’s handwriting on it.

“Colin Robinson has assisted in creating a webpage for your disgrace. We have done our own hot list! A familiar hot list. All of the New York vampires voted. So, now you can see how not nice it feels to have your hotness besmirched for all the world to see.”

Guillermo typed in the URL and blinked as the neon green background scorched his retinas. The page was a hideous callback to the internet of the late 1990s right down to the hit counter at the bottom. There was a border of pixelated dancing Draculas surrounding bright orange text.

NYC Familiar Hotness Ranking

1. Guillermo (Nandor the Relentless) - 19%

Guillermo looked at the screen, then over at Nandor, then back to the screen again.

“Master? Have you looked at the results yet?”

Nandor’s brow knit with confusion, “No, why? What does it say?”

He grabbed the laptop and squinted against the garish colors. Guillermo watched Nandor’s face carefully as he read the results. He looked surprised and almost...pleased at first, before giving in to his patented aggravation.

“Fucking Colin Robinson!”

---

New NYC Familiars Group! #welcome

Imurdad | colby: Hey @everyone! Welcome to the new Discord server. Guillermo has stepped down as a mod but he’ll still be around. We don’t have a perfect solution for the security problems we had with the last server. We’re asking everyone to be vigilant about hypnosis and if you feel like you’re losing time, please be sure to secure your phones/computers away from your masters….

---

to: [email protected]

from: [email protected]

subject: Something you might want to see…

Hey Nandoorman! How’s it hangin’?  

Listen, I’m sorry that your revenge didn’t go as planned. I noticed you’ve been a little short with Gizmo ever since this whole thing started. As someone who cares about my roomie, I want to advise you to knock it the hell off. Also, I don’t relish the thought of returning to the days before Gizmo came along. Do you even remember what the house used to look like? Pools of blood everywhere. Dead bodies. Melted candles all over the place...

I digress… I managed to snag this screenshot from Count Rapula. I think you may find it interesting.

Your pal,

Colin Robinson 

discord_gizmo.jpg

#confessions

Gigithegreat: Hey guys. This isn’t easy for me to share but I know I’m not the only one who’s dealt with this and if I can help one of you feel less alone then I’ll be glad. As most of you know, I recently “celebrated” my 10th anniversary as Nandor’s familiar. I was convinced, absolutely convinced, that my master was going to make me into a vampire. Well, once again it didn’t happen. He made me this weird portrait out of glitter instead. And the thing is...like, I should leave, right? He’s never going to turn me and that’s the basis for our whole arrangement. I serve him faithfully, he turns me into a vampire. It’s simple, right? So why am I still here? Why am I still burying bodies for him and making human sacrifices? Dressing and feeding him? Treating him like he’s some kind of god and not an ancient cranky baby?  It’s because I’m in love with him. Hopelessly, stupidly, self-destructively in love with my vampire master who thinks of me as nothing more than a really well-trained poodle who can talk. Why? WHY? Because he makes me laugh. Because he’s fiercely protective of his vampire family and (sometimes) that includes me. Because when we’re alone he can be so adorably, painfully vulnerable and it feels like a privilege that I get to witness that side of him. Because he does ridiculously stupid but considerate things like spending hours making me a glitter portrait. When he’s happy with me I feel like I could float and when he’s disappointed I feel like being swallowed up by a sinkhole. And, yeah, he’s also man-of-my-dreams outrageously hot and I cannot believe you cretins have him ranked #29 on the hot list. It’s a crime. 

Gigithegreat: So, yeah. That’s why I stay. I’m no longer hoping for a bite that will never happen. Now it’s a kiss, a hug, a touch, a look. Anything he’s willing to give me I’ll gladly hoard in my little closet-room along with my glitter portrait. Because I’m pathetic. That’s it. That’s the confession.

Imurdad | colby: Brave words, Guillermo. Hang in there, friend.

blood_princess: this is a mood

sam teh pretty: Sending you healing head scritches ❤️

Celeste-is-Best: look, i think i speak for us all when i say we need to see this glitter portrait!!!

[You’re Viewing Older Messages … Jump To Present? ￬]

---

Nandor looked uncharacteristically thoughtful while Guillermo readied him for sleep. The familiar guessed he was still angry that his little revenge plot had backfired. He couldn’t help but feel a little smug about his position as the hottest NYC familiar. Even if he was pretty sure it was mostly due to the other vampires messing with Nandor. Guillermo couldn’t really enjoy his victory, though, not with Nandor’s feelings of betrayal still weighing on his heart.

Nandor’s face was a stoic mask as Guillermo helped him undress. He cooperated listlessly, picking up his feet for Guillermo to remove his heavy boots, lifting his arms up over his head as Guillermo took off his brocade tunic. Finally, he placed his giant hand in Guillermo’s soft, small one and stepped up into his coffin. Guillermo stood by the side of the coffin as he always did, watching over Nandor with affection choking his throat. Nandor smoothed his hair down and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Sweet dreams, master,” Guillermo whispered, leaning across him to catch the lid of the coffin.

“Wait, Guillermo,” Nandor spoke without looking at him, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. “I wish to say something to you.”

Guillermo’s heart sank in his chest. Oh no...his stupid middle schooler revenge didn’t work and now he’s going to send me away… Tears pricked his eyes and he choked, “C-can’t it wait until tomorrow, master?”

“No. I must say this now,” Nandor responded, oblivious to his familiar’s internal drama. “I want to say to you that--and I think I’m being extremely gracious and lenient here--it is fine for you to have your little, pathetic familiar group on the dark internet.”

“O-oh,” Guillermo quickly swiped the tears from his eyes, “thank you, master…”

“But no more mee-mees, Guillermo! Master-shaming...very disrespectful!”

“Of course!” Guillermo laughed, delirious with relief. 

Nandor looked up at him with a final warning glance before softening, “Alright, then. As long as we are clear on that…”

There was a long beat of silence during which Guillermo found himself locked inside his master’s gaze. Nandor’s eyes were like pools of rich, melted chocolate. Guillermo imagined himself as the German kid from Willy Wonka and for a second he was in danger of breaking down into giggles. But then his master spoke in that soft, uncertain tone he only used when they were alone and he was feeling fragile.

“Guillermo...did you really vote for me to be the number one hottest vampire?” Nandor toyed with the buttons on his shirt and looked up at his familiar with a shy, open expression.

Guillermo’s cheeks burned and he wanted to laugh and hide and kiss his master on the mouth all at once.

“Yes, master, I did. You’re…” he cleared his throat and tightened his grip on the lip of the coffin, “so handsome, master. So beautiful...”

He watched his master’s chest expand with pride and his lips twitch into a haughty smirk. 

“That’s true, Guillermo. Good job for noticing,” Nandor praised him in a voice that was a little too loud. It rang with a false sense of self-assurance. After a few seconds he went on in a quieter tone, “Do you know, I--this is very silly, Guillermo, you mustn't tell anyone this--I voted for you, too. As the hottest familiar…”

Guillermo’s stomach did a little swoop and his lips curved into a blinding smile. His dumb, beautiful master thought he was attractive? Guillermo tried to reel himself in; he tried to remind himself that Nandor probably only voted for him to boost his own reputation. But--wait?--hadn’t the list been meant as a revenge against Guillermo? God, what a handsome idiot.

“Thank you, master,” Guillermo gushed and now he was certain that Nandor’s eyes strayed too long on his smiling lips and red, dimpled cheeks. 

“Alright then!” Nandor pulled the emergency break on the moment. “Time for my evil slumber. Night night, Guillermo!”

And in a slow motion moment that would feature in Guillermo’s dreams that night, Nandor reached up and put his hand over his. Nandor’s cool, smooth palm rubbed over the back of Guillermo’s warm hand and his fingers squeezed slightly. The breath rushed from Guillermo’s lungs and he could only squeak in reply, shutting his master into his coffin and moving away with a dazed smile on his face.

A muffled sound came from the coffin just as Guillermo reached the door to the crypt.

“...And I don’t think of you as a poodle…”

“What was that, master?” Guillermo called.

“Nothing, Guillermo!”

Guillermo shuffled off to his little room feeling like he was carrying a happy little flame inside his chest. For once he gave himself permission to hope without fearing disappointment.

---

New NYC Familiars Group! #thirsty

Celest-is-Best: SORRY NOT SORRY!!!! Simon can get it…

blood_princess: ummmm thirst after your own master, Celeste. Oops sorry she’s 12.

mish-bish: Lmaooo. Gross Celeste!

Celeste-is-Best: listen.

Celeste-is-Best: ...i got nothin. I want his evil dick.

…

Gigi the great: Please look respectfully at this photo I snuck of my master the other night. Do I really need to explain myself further???

Celeste-is-Best: that’s it. guillermo, ask nandor if he needs another familiar. my body is ready!

Gigi the great: Back off, bitch!!!!

Gigi the great: jk love u

Gigi the great: but srsly back off

#master-shaming

mish-bish: submitted without comment

[Imurdad | colby, Gigi the great, Sam teh Cat, and 6 others like this]

...

Gigi the great: 🙄🙄🙄

Gigi the great: I hate him I love him

#main

black-peterrr: ohohoho, has anyone talked to Guillermo lately…..?

black-peterrr: a little raven told me he and Nandor were seen HOLDING HANDS in the park the other night…

call-me-karen: WHATTTTTTTT

Celeste-is-Best: @Gigi the great, CONFIRM OR DENY!! GIIIIIGIIII!

Gigi the great: ……...I don’t kiss and tell 😉

Imurdad | colby pinned a post

Imurdad | colby: This is momentous.

#memes

Gigi the great: hot take…

Imurdad | colby: bahahaha, okay…

Imurdad | colby: 

Gigi the great: But have you considered…

Imurdad | colby: lol compelling

Call-me-karen: I mean…..👀

Celeste-is-Best: Ha...ha...ha…*sob*

Direct Messages

Celeste-is-Best: Gigi! we miss you! ur never online lately... 

Celeste-is-Best: too busy getting that ottoman empire dick, huhhh??

Gigi the great: OMG Celeste! You’re out of control!

Celeste-is-Best: that wasn’t a denial…

#main

Gigi the great: Hey guys...sorry I haven’t been active lately

Gigi the great: Quick update though....

GIgi the great:

blood_princess: OSDFJweoiflkdfaf omgggggg gggggiiiiiiigiigigig!!!!!!

Jameson: Holy shit, man. Congrats.

Celeste-is-Best: GuillerrrrrrrrrrrmmmmmmooooooOooooO!O my baby! you look amazing!

call-me-karen: DO YOU NEED A FAMILIAR!!?!?!?!?

Celeste-is-Best: jesus, karen lol

blood_princess: my master is having an orgy right now. I just locked myself in the bathroom--I’M FREAKING OUT!! What is it like? IS that blood on your collar??? OMG how was ur first feeding?

Imurdad | colby: FAMILIARS ONLY, GUILLERMO!!

Imurdad | colby: I’m kidding. OMG I’m so happy for you! (And burning with jealous rage)

Celeste-is-Best: look how fucking happy Nandor is

Celeste-is-Best: i’ve been shipping you two from the beginning, Gigi!

Celeste-is-Best: …..hope you’re not going to forget who helped you out with those virgins last month…

---

“Guillermo!” Nandor’s voice was half whine, half growl. “It’s very difficult to sleep with that light filling the coffin! What are you doing anyway?”

The screen illuminated Guillermo’s grin as he answered, “Just posted that selfie we took to the familiar chat. They’re freaking out.”

Nandor turned onto his side, nuzzling his face into Guillermo’s neck and tickling him with his beard, “That’s nice. Sleepy time now, Guillermo.” 

“Yes, master,” Guillermo breathed and Nandor purred low in his chest. Some things had changed since becoming a vampire and others had stayed the same. Calling Nandor “master” had taken on a new, thrilling subtext.

Nandor’s arms snaked around Guillermo, tugging the smaller vampire into his chest. He let out a contented sigh and his body went still as he began to fall asleep.

“I guess I should probably leave the group,” Guillermo yawned--force of habit. “Since I’m not a familiar anymore.”

Nandor wrenched himself from sleep with the power of his own petulance, “Hey! What do you mean ‘not a familiar anymore’? Just because a guy gives his boyfriend the gift of eternal life he thinks he can quit being his familiar!? Who’s going to brush my hair?! ‘Not a familiar anymore’...fucking guy…”

#nandor x guillermo #guillermo x nandor #nandermo #wwdits #wwdits fanfic #nandor the relentless #guillermo de la cruz