#back at it again with another based on personal experience prompt list because i can’t get any of this shit out of my head

[dumplingsjinson]

List of “stuff that happened between us which will forever live in my mind rent free” prompts

“I’m happy that you’re happy.” (DEWLKLDEWDSWL,SDL, FUCKKK)

Character A repeatedly kissing Character B’s lips, both giggling softly when they pull away from each other. (YUMI’S CELLS SEASON 2 I’M THANKING YOU FOR THIS KSKSKS) 

“You’ll always be beautiful in my eyes no matter what,” Character B murmurs after Character A tells them how insecure they are over their body. (Him reassuring me when I was spilling my guts to him and everything was everything I didn’t know I needed until now ajskks 😭 And him saying he doesn't judge lksefnklewn)

“I’m scared you’ll leave me once you see everything,” Character A murmurs, face buried in Character B’s chest. “Why would you think that?” Character B questions, a frown heard in the tone of their voice without Character A needing to look up at them; as if they think it’s ludicrous that Character A would even think they’d leave them for something like that.  (NaHH THE WAY HE SOUNDED DISAPPOINTED WHEN I SAID THAT, for even thinking that he’d leave me for that, and then trying to comfort me after, I feel so bad for doubting him omg 😭😭😭)

“Touch yourself for me, yeah?” Character B murmurs into Character A’s ear; watches as a flustered looking Character A slowly does as they’re told. (HOLY FUCKING SHITBALLS HELLOOOOOOOOO- IT’S THE FACT THAT HE ADDED THE “FOR ME” PART THAT MADE ME BECOME SO FUCKING FLUSTERED even though I did suggest it when we met last week and he was like “only if you want to” sAURR LIKE… was this invitation on his mind for a whole week LMFAOO. AND WHEN HE KEPT TELLING ME “good girl” or “that’s my baby girl” WHILE I WAS- JWKCKAS AHHHHH)

“You’re doing such a good job. That’s my baby girl/boy.” 

Character B slowly undressing Character A, at the request of Character A, because Character A is too shy to undress themselves in front of them. (PLEASE THE WAY HE JUST SLOWLY AJFKAKFK HELPPPPPPPP EVERYTHING ABOUT IT WAS SO TENDER??? LIKE DAMN)

“I don’t like the way my calves look. They’re too bulky, you know?” Character A sighs. “Well, I think it’s fine,” Character B says. “How’s it fine?” Character A whines. Character B chuckles in an abashed manner, then says, “It makes them squishier, after all.” (And then he proceeded to say he doesn’t like how his own calves look just to make me feel better, god I fucking LOVE HIM)

Character A being extremely vulnerable with Character B, and Character B listening attentively and reassuring them as much as they can.

“I’m sorry for ruining the mood,” Character A murmurs, face buried on their chest, and Character B chuckles softly. “It’s fine, don’t apologise,” Character B murmurs, stroking their fingers through their hair. “I’m here for you after all. I’m here to listen.”

“You’re so pretty, you know?” Character B mumbles, brushing a strand of hair behind Character A’s ear. (Him saying that while I was being vulnerable melted my heart TT TT AND ALSOOO WHEN HE WAS SAYING THAT WHILE I WAS ON TOP OF HIM HHWHEWHH) 

Character B littering kisses on Character A’s bare chest and saying, “You’re so soft.” (I just.. need a MOMENT)

Sloppy kisses while dry humping. (I mean I enjoyed them, and what of it??) 

“I’ve seen everything. And I’ve tasted everything. Literally,” Character B says with a chuckle as they surface from the sheets and from between Character A’s thighs to snuggle with Character A, and Character A groans, hiding their face behind their hands in utter embarrassment. (Yep. He’s seen literally everything AND had a taste by now and I’m SO FUCKING LWKENFLKWEFNLKENWFW—)

“I’m so embarrassed,” Character A groans as Character B holds them to them. “Don’t be embarrassed,” Character B says with a chuckle. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. It’s just you and me, after all.” 

“Fuck, I wanna feel you against me,” Character A murmurs. (I said that, sir, yes I did. And what aBOUT IT—)

Character B kissing Character A on the cheek during one of those self-service photo booth sessions, which catches Character A off-guard. (AND WHEN I UPLOAD THE PIC- jk) 

Character B pressing kisses against Character A’s forehead while they’re fucking. (We weren’t technically fucking, but it was close lmfao) 

Character A clenching Character’s A’s head between their thighs as Character B eats them out, fingers going in and out of them sporadically. (The finger AND TONGUE COMBO PLEASEEE) 

Character A repeatedly apologising for dumping their feelings and vulnerabilities on Character B every time they see each other and Character B telling them it’s fine and that they’ll always be here to listen to them. (Please, I love this man so much) 

Character B slapping Character A’s ass while they’re using their phone, ass high up in the air. “What was that for?!” Character A whines, turning to glare at Character B. “That’s revenge for you doing that to me,” Character B says with a triumphant grin. (Yes we are at tHAT level of comfort with each other and YES I like slapping his ass. And don’t ask me why I was looking at my phone while in that position, it’s difficult to explain-)

Character B calling Character A cute and adorable while they’re messing around, because apparently Character A will always be adorable to them no matter what they do. 

Character B showering Character A with compliments and praises which flusters Character A every single goddamn time, and Character A telling Character B to shut up every time they compliment them because they don’t know how to take compliments. 

“God, I’m so wet/hard.” “And I don’t see a problem with that?” “Uhhh, no, there’s no problem but it is your fault that this is happening.” (FUCKING TEASE- IOEWFEKLKEWN) 

“Tell me when you want me to stop, okay?” Character B murmurs, glancing up at Character A from between their thighs, and something about that sight will forever remain etched in Character A’s mind. 

“As I’ve always said, we have all the time in the world, and I want you to be comfortable.” (HE IS AN ANGEL, PLSSS) 

“I’m happy you got out of your comfort zone,” Character B murmurs, cuddling Character A close to their chest. (ThE SWEETEST BOYFRIEND I’M TELLING YOU) 

Character B covering Character A with a blanket, knowing that they’re still feeling a little self-conscious over having their body exposed like this. (And him draping the blanket over us both as he cuddled close to me welkfnekwn I’m fiNISHED) 

Character B taking their time with Character A, going at a pace that Character A’s comfortable with. (He was so attentive the whole time TT TT)

Character B brushing Character A’s hair behind their ears to unhide their face; just so they could take a better look at them. (It’s even more EWLFKNEWFKN when he does it while we’re messing around, because I’m covering my face with my hair on purpose because I’m self-conscious as fuck, while he wants to see my face lmfaooo) 

#there’s more commentary than prompts i’m sorry- #back at it again with another based on personal experience prompt list because i can’t get any of this shit out of my head #and y’all NEED to see it idCCCC #prompts #non suggestive prompts #suggestive prompts #otp prompts #writing prompts #fluff prompts #dialogue prompts #smut prompts #writing scenarios #cat guy chronicles

[tysonrunningfox]

Okay so this is really really really old, but I just discovered the hilarious Ugly Meet prompts (pathetic, I know) and I was hoping you'd humor a fan and do "99. I overhear you list of impossible qualities/requirements you want in a person, so I feel the need to give you a piece of my mind but I'm realizing I might fit your list as we argue" for Hiccstrid? It's okay if you don't do it, but it would be pretty awesome

99. I overhear you list of impossible qualities/requirements you want in a person, so I feel the need to give you a piece of my mind but I'm realizing I might fit your list as we argue

(Pls can anyone give me the link of this list of prompts because this was fun)

(Also, this is based on when my mom tried to tell me that season 2 of bridgerton was not as good as season 1 and I responded in a flabberghasted way and said dumb things)

---------------------------------------

Hiccup has an allergy to ‘girl talk’.  It’s not the kind that gives him hives or general inflammation, and it would almost be luckier if it were anaphylactic, because if it were, that might at least shut him up.

But as it is, it’s the kind of allergy that makes him word vomit.  Like a lie-tose intolerance that doesn’t let the bullshit reach a place where he’d absorb it anymore. 

He tries to be subtle.  Really. 

In fact, he succeeds, because he doesn’t glance at the women behind him in his corner café on a Saturday morning.  He doesn’t even hunch his shoulders when they start listing off disappointing dates and wishing for impossibilities. 

He minds his own business, until. 

Until. 

“Oh come on, Anxious and Pathetic, I like that in a man.” 

Hiccup snorts, louder than he thought he was going to, and the table behind him goes silent for a beat.  Just a beat.  Then, the voice he’d heard less of but pointedly ignored more pipes up. 

“Excuse me?” 

“Huh?”  He looks over his shoulder, pretending to be annoyed at them for eavesdropping, which is hard because of the fact that he was just eavesdropping.  He’s a lot of things but hypocritical isn’t one of them. 

“What’s funny?”  She asks, peeved enough that he really looks at her, and his Adam’s apple bobs so hard it’s painful. 

“Something on my phone.”  It’s unconvincing even to him, and after an anxious beat of silence he remembers to pull his phone out of his back pocket. 

“Mhmm.”  She looks him up and down, piercing blue eyes scanning him like a barcode, reading more information that he’s offering. 

So, he offers.  Because it’s girl talk and the only way to keep his airways open is to talk. 

“Anxious and pathetic,” he starts, and she has the sense or maybe is just shocked enough to look caught, “you say you like that in a man, but do you know what that means?” 

She blanches.  She’s really very pretty, in the way that makes him nervous but also a little desperate, which consequently, is when he happens to be funniest.  Not that anyone is laughing. 

“Does it mean interrupting strangers’ conversations?”  She raises an eyebrow, re-composed, and he bites his tongue against a stutter. 

“Absolutely.” 

“Oh, then continue.”  The color comes back to her face, just a bit, and it’s like a fortune cookie predicting his death, but again, he can’t stop.  If he could stop, he wouldn’t be here. 

“It means constantly hyping this hypothetical man up while they’re being stupid and embarrassing.  In fact, embarrassment is just a constant theme with an anxious and pathetic man—”

“Sounds like you know from personal experience.”  That’s the woman’s friend, and she has a perpetual expression of amusement, which raises Hiccup’s anxiety levels another tick. 

“Hypothetically,” Hiccup turns in his seat, repositioning, committing to the conversation when he shouldn’t, but when has he backed off of something he shouldn’t do?  “Hypothetically, dealing with an anxious and pathetic man is just a constant onslaught of situations in which he requires support, interest—It’s like getting a puppy, but without the benefits of having a puppy—”

He stops himself, breathes, wonders if he’s going to regret this in a legal way and then continues, because he has girl talk word vomit and there’s no anti-histamine for that. 

“Some of the benefits, I guess, like loyalty, like puppies, anxious and pathetic men tend to attach themselves to strong, confident women who know what they want.  It’s operant conditioning, some praise for good behavior and pretty much anyone will go along and—”

“Buy me a coffee?”  The target of his rant asks, eyebrow raised, leaning forward on her elbows and he swallows hard. 

“I mean.  Sure.” 

“Good boy.”  It’s a joke, he knows it’s a joke, because he just prattled on about puppies for longer than he would like to admit, but it gets to him anyway.  The back of his neck flushes and he shrugs to attempt to obscure it, but it doesn’t work. 

And she notices, her eyebrow quirking. 

“What kind of coffee?” 

“Americano, room for cream,” she tells him, chin leaned on her palm, and he goes.

“How much cream?”  He asks, for some reason (the reason being she’s magnetic), and she gestures with her fingers close together and he guesses. 

Anxiously. Pathetically. 

“Thank you,” she says when he hands her the coffee, fingers warm where they glance over his and linger.  “Any more opinions on my love life that you’d like to offer?”  She asks, cocks her head, takes a long sip of her coffee. 

“Um.”  Hiccup says intelligently, as is to be expected in the face of…that. 

“I mean, you’re just my type.” 

#hiccstrid #hiccstrid drabbles #meet ugly prompts #modern au

[loserchildhotpants]

Destiel prompt from Twitter; kissing each other to prove there’s nothing there, even though, it’s a lie, and the kiss proves it (from this prompt list)

“I’m just saying that I don’t think you’d get this defensive if there really wasn’t anything between you two -”

“There isn’t, and I’m not getting defensive!” Dean argues, decidedly defensively.

“Methinks the lady doth protest too much,” Sam offers with a shrug and a smirk.

Staring down into the open grave the boys are in, Castiel glances between the brothers and tilts his head, wondering if perhaps by a different angle, he may better understand what their expressions mean.

“We’re bonded or whatever - that’s it, man! There’s nothing else going on!”

“I’m not even saying there is anything ‘going on,’ I’m just saying there could be, and if that were something you wanted -”

“I’m not qu -”

“I know, I get it, I hear you, humor me for a second, okay? All I’m saying is just - if there were something between you two, and you wanted there to be something ‘going on,’ where there is currently nothing ‘going on,’ I just think you should, hypothetically go for something rather than settling for the nothing, because, personally, I think there is something there, and you could have a great thing going if that were what you wanted.”

“Even if - which I don’t - I’m not - listen, though, okay? I’m not, and I don’t want that - not that there’s anything wrong with it, or something, just - even if that were the case, Cas isn’t like that. He’s not a being that experiences shit like that -”

“I’m telling you you’re wrong, Dean! The way he stares at you -”

“He stares at everyone!”

“Do I?”

The Winchesters jump in unison, both with hands on their guns faster than should be possible. They both visibly relax again, though, when they realize it’s only Castiel interrupting.

“Oh, hey, Cas,” Dean greets, his voice markedly more gentle than it was with Sam only a moment before.

Castiel appreciates it.

“Hello, Dean.”

With a cheeky grin, Sam clears his throat, and says to Cas, “your timing couldn’t be better, actually, Cas - Dean and I have some questions -”

“No, no, we do not have questions,” Dean growls at Sam, eyes blazing dangerously.

“I am always available to you boys for whatever inquiries I can assist in. Is this pertaining to my staring? It’s academic in nature, I assure you - frankly, I am used to having a form that hosts many more eyes; being in this Earthly form can present obstacles, as my perceptions are more limited than I can remember them ever being. I promise I do not mean to insult anyone.”

“Oh, I don’t think anyone’s thinking of it as an insult,” Sam intones; Dean shoves his elbow into Sam’s kidney to shut him up.

“This is you being defensive, by the way,” Sam wheezes, doubled over, but still smirking at Dean, “What’s the big deal if there’s nothing going on?”

Flushed, Dean scowls at Sam, drops his shovel, and tells him, “I’m not being defensive! There’s nothing to be defensive about! And I’ll prove it!”

Clambering out of the grave, Dean brushes the soil from his hands onto his dirtier jeans, and stomps more than walks up to Castiel.

“You’ve a cut,” Cas murmurs worriedly, spotting a knick Dean got on his cheek earlier in the day.

“It’s nothing. Listen, Cas -”

Before Dean can get anymore out, Castiel reaches for his left-side cheek, cups that side of his face, and spreads a cooling sensation that knits the skin back together neatly and cleanly.

“Uh - thanks, Cas,” Dean mutters gruffly as Cas takes his hand back.

“My pleasure, Dean.”

Uncharacteristically nervous, Dean glances down at the ground, his hands shoved in his jean pockets, then his eyes skim the ground until they happen upon Sam’s again, and whatever silent exchange they have works Dean up again.

“Cas,” Dean begins, looking into his eyes with determination, “We’re friends, you ‘n me, right?”

“Yes, Dean. You are my most cherished friend,” Castiel answers.

That gives Dean a moment’s pause where he seems to be searching Castiel’s face for some sign of sarcasm or deceit; there is none to be detected, of course.

“I - thanks, man. Uhm. Now - this is gonna sound like a weird question, but bear with me, ‘cause I’m not about to assume consent or something.”

“Okay,” Castiel says in confusion, tilting his head again.

“I’m tryin’a prove a point here to Sam, and to get it across - just - would you be okay with me kissing you? Like, just this once - I promise I won’t make it weird or anything, but I gotta ask, you know? I know you’re not into physical stuff like -”

“You’d like my permission to kiss?” Castiel intercepts neutrally, “Like people do?”

Something about that is funny - or startling? - to both Sam and Dean, and Castiel can’t tell which or for what reasons.

“Yeah. Just this one time,” Dean repeats.

Though he takes a respectable count of four seconds to seem as though he needs to consider his options, Castiel nods, and replies, “of course, Dean. Of all the favors you’ve asked of me before, I assure this is certainly the most convenient and pleasant of them.”

Sam snorts a laugh, Dean tosses a glare at him, and then settles gentle, if a little nervous, eyes back on Castiel.

“Okay…”

Dean steps closer into Cas’ space, bringing them toe-to-toe and he finds himself staring down; he’d not realized Cas was shorter than him. It’s not by much, not really enough to be remarked upon, even, but it means that Cas winds up looking up at him from under the cover of long, dark lashes, and even in the dark of the night, his eyes shine like twinkling gems.

Swallowing with some difficulty, Dean holds loosely onto the lapels of Cas’ trench coat, and he means to go in chaste, he really does, it’s just that he’s actually struggling to breathe a little, so his lips are just barely parted, and Cas - as far as Dean can tell, Cas takes that as a cue.

Because Cas’ full lips press in, but so does his tongue; before Dean can even secure his footing, Cas makes his loose hold on the lapels go tight, licking up into Dean’s mouth without hesitation or mercy.

Praying his shocked gasp wasn’t audible to Sam, Dean just tries to hold on while Cas turns his head, bites Dean’s heavy bottom lip, and then pushes Dean’s mouth more open with his own, and then he drags his hot tongue against Dean’s, coming in broad, and soft.

Dean hears himself make some kind of noise - he can’t tell what it is, because there’s too much blood rushing in his skull - there’s stubble. Stubble. There is stubble in this equation other than his own, and that’s new, and terrifying, and should be wholly unwelcome, but every synapse in his brain dedicated to pleasure is telling him otherwise.

One wide hand insinuates itself under the hem of Dean’s weathered flannel, calloused fingers pressing into his left hip possessively while the other hand glides over his pec, and shoulder to the back of his neck, pinky finger teasing the sensitive skin just under the back of his cotton collar, and thumb brushing the fine hairs at the base of Dean’s skull.

Dean thinks he may be swaying - he’s dizzy.

Cas is dragging him closer, pressing their hips and abdomens together, and Dean’s hands have somehow found better purchase on the front of Cas’ button-down dress shirt than his lapels.

Dean thinks he hears one of the buttons pop off with the strain of his hold, but neither of them seem inclined to do anything about it, so he figures it doesn’t matter; he tries to establish himself as a bit more dominant, thrown off his usual groove by the absolutely sinful way Cas apparently kisses.

To Dean’s simultaneous horror and delight, Cas doesn’t relinquish any control; he won’t be moved, his hands get tighter and hotter where they touch Dean’s skin, he only presses them harder together, and he kisses Dean like he wants to eat him alive.

He kisses Dean like he wants to crawl inside him, like he’s hungry - starved - like kissing is an act of carnage just as much as an act of love, like those things aren’t mutually exclusive.

He’d rather die than admit it to anyone, but Dean’s knees get a little weak, and Cas basically holds up his entire weight by just the grip he’s got on Dean’s waist.

Before he knows it’s happened, Dean’s hard enough to carve stone, and Cas readjusts how they’re slotted against one another to better accommodate Dean’s failing balance, and Cas feels it - he must. Even if he doesn’t feel how hard Dean is against him right away, the guttural moan Dean will deny having made til his dying breath clues him in.

What sounds like hundreds of cherry bombs going off has them stumbling away from each other, and frantically looking about.

The streetlights have exploded. There’s glass everywhere, and based on the echoes of car alarms and distant voices, it’s becoming more and more possible that Cas destroyed the windows and lights of several cars and nearby homes.

Even he and Sam’s flashlights are busted.

In the blanket of darkness that’s settled over the graveyard, Dean can still see clearly, because Cas’ eyes are high beams cutting through the fog of the night.

They’re both panting, Dean’s pretty certain that a resting heart rate isn’t meant to feel like this, and Cas is looking positively feral.

“Jesus fuck!” Sam curses, his arms crossed over his head where he still plucks a shard of glass from his hair.

Reminded of Sam’s presence, Castiel’s head swivels to him, the glow of his eyes dims down, and then he looks back at Dean, visibly frightened.

Dean takes no pleasure in Cas ever being scared, so he reaches out, takes a step back into Cas’ space, but that spooks him more, and in less than a blink of an eye, he’s gone.

Not cool, Cas, Dean thinks loudly, hoping it counts as a prayer that Cas will hear.

Reaching into the front of his jeans, Dean uses the near blackness of the power outage to his advantage, and readjusts himself to the best of his abilities.

It really doesn’t do much.

“Well,” Sam starts pointedly.

Dean, weak at the knees, lips criminally swollen, face flushed, hair mussed and harder than he’s ever been in his life, turns slowly to scowl at Sam.

“That was not nothing.”

Dean doesn’t see a way of winning the argument, so he kicks dirt into Sam’s hair, and leaves him to finish burying.

#destiel #deancas #drabble #kisses #my stuff #some spice tho #just for funsies

[justcourttee]

I would love for like Adrien to find a lost 4 year old at one of his photo shoots and after conformting the child and trying to help him find his parents the kid yells mommy! And runs to damian and Marinette

So so sorry for being so inactive. It’s been a crazy semester and I haven’t been able to sit down and write as much as I had hoped. (Side note, If you sent a request, I promise I will get to it. I never overlook them unless they are the same request twice. I will only answer one if it’s the same prompt :))

There were three or four of these requests in my inbox all slightly different but based on this same idea! So I hope you enjoy this :)

Just Like You

Adrien knew one thing was absolute in this world.

Photoshoots always were and always would be the bane of his existence.

He thought that when his father left him in charge of the company so that he and Nathalie could travel the world, he could lay off on the photoshoots, hire some new faces. What a naive wish. He should’ve known that his father would have booked him to wear all of the upcoming designs and deadlines for the next two years.

“Alright guys, let’s call it quits for now and take an hour lunch. Everyone meet back here by 1.”

Adrien sighed as he slipped off the jacket he was wearing, handing it off to the intern before stepping out of their cornered off section of the park. What to eat for lunch was the only question plaguing his mind as he unconsciously stepped toward Andre’s cart conveniently set up a mere 20 feet from their site.  He was so close to his tasty snack when a cry pierced his ears.

His eyes swept the park looking for the culprit only pausing once they landed on a small child collapsed by the water fountain, their face buried in tiny hands.

Nobody seemed to be rushing to their aid, in fact, it was as if all of Paris was trying to ignore the girl’s cries as they scurried to wherever they were in such a hurry to be. Typical. His eyes glanced once more longingly at the ice cream cart before his feet turned on their path. He tried to approach as slowly as possible stopping a couple of feet from the child, careful to not scare her off.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?”

She didn’t even bother to look up, her wails echoing off the marble of the fountain. Adrien wasn’t sure what to do. He had worked with kids before in photoshoots, but he truly had no personal experience with them.

“Why are you crying?”

There was still no answer. He didn’t know what he was expecting. Just because he changed the question didn’t mean she was going to automatically talk to him. So instead, he remained crouched, hoping he could wait her out before his lunch break ended.

“Mom-Mommy told me not to talk to strangers sir.”

Her french was jagged, much like it was a language in progress. She was definitely from out of town. That concerned Adrien more than anything else. Hawkmoth may have fallen off the face of the Earth, but that didn’t mean every scum followed suit.

“That’s good advice from your mom. Is she with you today?”

Adrien regretted the words the minute they flew from his mouth. Her whole body stiffened as if she suddenly remembered her situation.

“I don’t know. She told me to stay put, but I saw this pretty butterfly and I thought it was one of mommy’s friends. So I tried to chase and after it and when it went bye-bye, I didn’t know where I was.”

Slowly, her head tilted to the side, her watery eyes drilling into his as if she wasn’t sure whether to cry or attack. The look, however, wasn’t what sucked all the air out of his surroundings.

“My God, you look just like her.”

The child turned her whole body, her face morphing from hostile to curious. It was as if some Akuma had hit Marinette Dupain-Cheng shrinking her to the size of one four-year-old girl. She was identical to the girl he had cared for save for her eyes. Instead of the mesmerizing blue he had gotten lost in so many times, they were a striking emerald green.

“Can we get some ice cream?”

Adrien blinked twice as if waking from a strange dream.

“From that cart over there?”

Her little finger nearly poked his eye out as she motioned behind him to where Andre stood.

“I-I-um,” his voice hadn’t cracked in years, was he going to hit puberty again? “I thought I was a stranger. You can’t get ice cream with a stranger.”

Gone were her tears and in their place stood a dazzling smile of tiny peals.

“You’re right, but you’re not gonna hurt me, mister. I can tell by your eyes. Daddy always tells me to check the eyes.”

Without another word, she skipped past Adrien forcing him to chase after her retreating figure. She had just reached the cart when a frantic voice stopped her order in its tracks.

“Amelia Martha Wayne, Where are you?”

“Mommy!”

It was as if she completely had forgotten about her ice cream as she pushed past Adrien’s legs leaving him frozen in place. That voice. He hadn’t heard it in so many months, so many years. It stilled his racing heart.

“Mommy, mommy, do you want some ice cream? This nice man was about to pay for some!”

Instantly Adrien felt his senses heightened. It felt as if he was seconds away from his death bed.

“I promise Marinette, it wasn’t like that!”

Adrien whipped around, his hands straight up in the air only to come face to face with a shorter, very angry face. His fist was already balled, raised in the air as if he was going to clobber Adrien from behind.

“Damian! Wait!” In an instance, a flash of black hair jumped between him and his would-be assailant. “I know him! You remember my partner, right? This is Adrien!”

The words didn’t seem to ebb at his anger, but he slowly lowered his fist, reaching down to scoop up the little girl instead. Adrien released the breath he didn’t even know he was holding.

“That is you, right Marinette?”

He felt like time itself had frozen as she turned, that familiar smile blinding his vision. 

She had matured. Her smile no longer held the naivety and love from when they were younger, but it was just as bright and welcoming. He couldn’t help his own smile that pulled at his lips. She was just as intoxicating as ever. And she was-

His eyes landed on the small bump protruding from her stomach.

“Hey Kitty, it’s been a while.” Her eyes followed his to where they remained glued on her midsection. “Oh yes, a lot has happened the past few years. Please, allow me to introduce my husband Damian and our daughter Amelia.”

His eyes shot back up, the red swallowing his face as he shot his hand out to accept the man’s extended hand in front of him.

“Very nice to meet you Damian, and of course, you as well Amelia,”

The man didn’t utter a word, his face still contorted into the snarl he had upon arriving. Adrien felt as though his voice was stuck in the back of his throat. How could this small man be so intimidating?

“Set call! Ten minutes people, ten minutes!”

Adrien’s eyes widened as he yanked his phone from his back pocket. There was no way that he had wasted his entire break, he hadn’t even had lunch yet!

“I remember that sound, we should be heading out cause I doubt Amelia has given you any time to eat.” Her playful glare earned a giggle from the little girl who mouthed a sorry to him. “But we should catch up before we head back to the States! Just text me when you’re free.”

Her smile was still warm, her eyes still shining with love, but there was one difference from the Marinette he used to know. All of that love was no longer directed at him. He watched as she intertwined her hand with the man beside her, turning to leave the park, the giggle of her and Amelia echoing in his ears. He wanted to reach out, ask them to stay longer, watch the shoot for old time's sake. But as they retreated further away, he couldn’t find it in him to bring her back to the past.

He chuckled quietly to himself, turning to rush to Andre’s cart before he had to return to the life he had chosen.

“I’m happy for you Marinette and that little girl of yours, well,” he spared one last glance over his shoulder, Amelia’s smile just as blinding as the one from his childhood “she looks just like you.”

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#daminette #maribat

[olderthanthemorning]

champagne (peter parker)

pairing: peter parker x reader

summary: was the bottle of champagne a going away present or a plead to stay?

wc: 1.4k

warnings: alcohol (no drinking but like intention to drink?), one curse word

a/n: hey y'all ! this is based on the song "champagne" from in the heights. i really love the song, it's so beautiful and climactic but also really sad so i tried to turn it into something! as always, please send me stuff like feedback and requests!

your best friend. he was your best friend and now he was going to go work at stark industries, just like you guys always talked about. you were so proud of peter for getting that internship with tony stark, and you knew how excited he was for it, so why did your heart sink whenever you thought about it? childhood best friends did separate things all the time, what was one summer of peter in another city? it's not like it was one of the last summers you guys had together before real life took over. it's not like you had been waiting all year to spend this summer together and had made a list of things to do. it wasn't like that at all. except it was. but regardless of how it was, you had to be the person that supported him, because you knew he would've done the same to you. so there you stood, outside his place with a bottle of cheap champagne you had gotten your cousin to buy for you. you practiced your most genuine small once more and knocked, hearing shuffling inside.

the door swung open to reveal peter, with disheveled hair and a t-shirt that was just a little bit too small. he smiled at you. "is that the science fair t-shirt from freshman year?" he looked down at the ratty shirt, like he forgot he was wearing something that fit him like a tight crop top. "oh yeah..." he chuckled, "you know when you're packing and you can't decide if you should bring something so you try it on to see if you could picture yourself wearing it? i guess i got carried away." you walked past him into his apartment, looking around at your second home. "while it makes your muscles look huge, i'm not sure that will follow an engineering internship's dress code," you turn back to him so you can admire the smile he offered to your joke. you were careful to keep the bottle out of his line of vision, "I brought you something," you wiggled your eyebrows. "got any plans for the rest of the night?"

"just finishing my packing, i have an early morning tomorrow." he pulled his tiny shirt off and reached for another that was sitting on a box.

"come on, be done. it's your last night." you watched as he pulled the new, fitting, t-shirt over his head and down his torso.

"i know, but..."

"peter, please? you owe me one date before you go." he blushed and his eyes widened. peter had always been a bashful kid, you could remember an incident in elementary school when the woman serving them lunch had called him sugar, and he turned as pink as his strawberry milk.

"um yeah, yeah okay."

you revealed the bottle from behind your back, "to officially celebrate you. i thought it'd be very grown up of us. it's a little cheesy in hindsight i guess." you handed it to him.

"no," peter said a little too quickly, "thank you. i'm gonna open it."

"you're going to have so much fun this summer. it's just like we used to dream about, inventing things. and with tony stark? that's huge peter."

he chuckled nervously, "yeah, i'm lucky i was accepted. it will be good experience." he was focused on trying to get the foil off the neck of the bottle that was covered in condensation.

"lucky? don't pretend it was luck that got you that," peter's eyes shot to yours, "it's obvious why stark thought you were special." he looked down at the bottle again, moving slowly as to listen to what you might say next. "you're the smartest kid in our class, and the smartest person i know, which is saying something because i know myself." peter exhaled, and you got the feeling he had been holding that breath in for a few seconds.

"i just can't get this stupid thing open," his hands grabbed at the cork.

"here, let me help," you reached out your hand to take the bottle.

"no i got it, i can do it," his words came out harsh, but not in an angry way, in a desperate way. like he was trying to convince himself and not you.

"hey, it's okay," you placed your hands over his as they finally stilled.

"i'm just scared. what if i let someone down?" you realized how tired peter looked, and you suddenly felt bad for pestering him into plans. "what if i can't do my job well and i disappoint everyone?" you were slightly confused about why peter thought his unpaid internship was so high stakes, but when you saw how anxious you looked you pushed it aside. you pulled the champagne completely from his grasp and placed it on the table. then you returned to him and pulled a chair next to his, putting one arm around one of his shoulders and placing your chin on the other.

"that's not going to happen, peter. i know i said you're the smartest person i know, and you are. but more importantly, you're the most hardworking and passionate person i know. i've never seen you do anything half-assed." you both stayed silent for a few moments and listened to each other breathing, thinking about what to say next. "can i say something selfish?" you ask, your face still close to his, but not facing him.

"sure."

"don't go."

"what?" he turned towards you, prompting you to pull away from his shoulder and look at him.

"stay here. you could easily find an internship here, especially since you have iron man's recommendation."

"usually you have to work for someone before they write you a recommendation," he says, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"you know what i mean."

"no, i don't."

"i'm trying to say you don't need this crazy far away job yet. plenty of people don't get internships like that for another two years."

"you're working this summer too remember?" you can hear a slight change in tone in peter's voice. it went from ignorant confusion to growing frustration in his confusion.

"please, i'm working in manhattan. i'm living at home, you're moving away. it's our last summer together for god knows how long, and you're leaving." it was true. you also had an internship, but you knew that this wasn't about work, and you thought peter might know that too.

"i can't just quit now, mr. stark is counting on me. i told you." you started to wish you hadn't said anything. not only was peter leaving but now you're last conversation you two was going to be an argument.

"i know but–" he cut you off.

"you told me to take the opportunity, i don't know why you're mad at me!"

"i'm not mad, i just–" this time you stopped yourself. you weren't mad. you were hurt. you were disappointed, in yourself, both for not saying anything earlier, and for saying anything at all. you were sad. you were heartbroken. so you did what you thought might give you some closure. you felt your legs carry you straight in front of peter and you kissed him.

the world felt like it stopped. it wasn't like fireworks like the movies always said. because while it was a first kiss, it was a goodbye kiss. the moment your lips touched his, you knew it was just one more thing for him to take with him when he left. the kiss was practically perfect. peter's arms went around your waist in a gentle but reassuring way. it wasn't hungry or lustful, it was textbook girl-gets-the-guy and they kiss in the rain at the end of the movie. it's like he had been waiting for you to do this. and it was all for nothing. you pulled away, after a beat you opened your eyes and met his, which were searching for an answer. "i'm just too late," you said, you tried to offer a small smile but you felt a lump form in your throat. you turned and walked towards the door. before turning the handle of the knob, you took a deep breath and looked back at him, your best friend. "i'm really proud of you peter," you waited a second and continued, "and i love you." you had both said these words before but now you both knew they meant something different. you closed the door behind you and walked down the hall, thinking about how peter would be saving the world this summer while you would be picking up the pieces to yours.

a/n part 2: ok so honestly i wrote this with a happy ending originally but i hated it so much so i stuck with angst. sorry about it. anyway, happy summer y'all. see you when i see you.

#avengers #peter parker x reader #peter parker #spiderman #in the heights #peter parker x you #peter parker imagine #peter parker x y/n #peter parker fanfiction #mcu #iron man #angst #blurb #spiderman x reader #friends to lovers #avengers imagine #tom holland #mcu marvel avengers #mcu blurb #imagine

[megsironthrone]

Dinner

Based off this request:  heyy, i think your writing is amazing !! i was wondering if you could do a request for your game of thrones book with Podrick Payne, i know you asked for a story line so i was thinking the reader would be a lannister and the youngest daughter of tywin (but she’s closer to Pod’s age) and she’s know as being the golden child of the lannisters and everyone loves her because she’s super sweet and caring but she’s smart and intelligent like the rest of them. I was thinking that even though everyone loves her she’s really close with tyrion, bronn and Pod and all of them have dinner together as close friends where they aren’t formal and make jokes and enjoy each other’s company but Pod is a blushing mess who stumbles over his words and all that but the reader is confident and it’s all fluffy and heart felt like that, maybe it ends with a kiss or something, i’m not sure i’m not so good with writing !! anyway if you don’t want to write it or can’t get around to it i totally understand just thought i’d ask anyway, i still enjoy your other stories!

Here you are! I love writing awkward fluff. *Familiar Characters are NOT mine!*

Warnings: A little awkwardness, FLUFF! Mentions of alcohol.

Pairings/Characters: Podrick Payne x fem!Lannister reader

There was an odd duck in every family. In House Lannister, it was you. It wasn't that you were really odd. You were just different than the others in your family. You were as intelligent as the rest of your family. You could be cunning and had a strategic mind like them. The difference was how you used your mind. You used it to solve the problems of others instead of searching for power or knowledge. You were sweet and cared about others more than the rest of your family.

         That didn't mean they didn't love you. In fact, they did. You were close with many people in the Red Keep, but none more than your older brother Tyrion, his friend Bronn, and his squire Podrick. The four of you had weekly suppers where the wine flowed and the laughter was plenty. They were your favorite times of the week. Especially on nights like tonight.

         You weren't drinking as much as Tyrion and Bronn, but that didn't stop them from poking fun at poor Podrick. He drank a little too, but when he drank, he became a blushing and stuttering mess. Well, more of one than he normally was around you. You thought it was utterly adorable and decided to tell him so.

         Tyrion and Bronn had both reached the point where they had too much to drink. They were both slumped over the table, snores echoing through the room. You and Podrick sat next to each other where you continued talking and laughing at the two of them. Podrick's cheeks were tinted pink and his brown eyes kept swinging over to you when he thought you weren't looking. It was clear that at least some part of him wanted to forget that outside of your personal spaces, you were a lady and he was a squire. You wanted that too. You wanted Podrick to be yours and only yours. And you had  habit of going for what you wanted, consequences be damned.

         "What?" you asked him. His cheeks got darker and he mumbled something. You asked again and he said a little louder, "You're beautiful." You felt your own face heat up, but you didn't say anything at first. Despite the fact that you had an idea that Podrick had feelings for you, hearing him say them made you giddy.

         "I should go. Lord Tyrion will need me in the morning," he muttered, moving to rise. Your hand moved of its own accord, shooting out to grab Podrick's gently. "Wait. Please." Podrick's eyes met yours. You nearly melted under his gaze when he sat back down. You licked your lips, cheering inside when his eyes instantly darted down to them.

         "I think you're beautiful too, Podrick." Podrick laughed and shook his head, but you were adamant. "You are! You're so handsome. And charming. Kind. Witty. You have a beautiful soul, Podrick Payne." You were proud that, in spite of your drinking, you hadn't lost any of you confidence or eloquence.

         Podrick merely stared at you for a moment as if he were trying to take in all that you had said. You giggled slightly before reaching up to run your fingers through his hair. It was softer than you had imagined. Podrick practically preened under your touch for a moment before clearing his throat. He gingerly took your hand to remove it from his hair. "My lady-Y/N. T-This isn't right." You arched a brow. "Y-You're a lady. I'm just…just a squire."

         "Oh shut it with that. You know I've never cared about that. You mean more to me than just my brother's squire. I love you, Podrick." You both froze. You hadn't meant to say that out loud. Your eyes met again. Podrick's brown irises were swirling with a mix of confusion, surprise, and pure adoration. It gave you the boost you needed to repeat yourself. "I love you." You gripped his hand a little tighter to emphasize that you were serious.

         Podrick gave you a sad smile. "I-I thought…I mean, I had hoped that you felt the same. But we can't, Y/N. I mean, my lady." You let out an annoyed sigh. "Podrick, do you love me?" He instantly nodded his head. "Very much." You smiled as you slid a little closer to him. "And I love you. Behind these doors, we aren't Lady Y/N or a squire. We're just Y/N and Podrick, two people who love each other. I want to be with you, Podrick. I don't care what anyone else has to say about it. I want this if you do."

         "I do, but-" you cut him off by placing your free hand on his cheek. He nearly stopped breathing, as if his mind couldn't catch up to the fact that you were so close. "No 'buts'. Even if we have to keep it a secret, I want to explore what this is. This is my choice. You are my choice. Am I yours?"

         A particularly loud snore caused you to jump, breaking up the staring contest you were having. Podrick took that opportunity to rise and offered his hand to help you up. "We should go." Your heart sank to your feet. You weren't used to this type of heartbreak. As you and Podrick walked down the corridors, you felt unbidden tears pricking your eyes.

         Outside your chambers, you tried to run into your room without looking at Podrick. You needed to be away from him. But his hand on your arm stopped you. "Y/N?" You faced him, tears streaming down your face. Podrick frowned. He reached up to dry your tears. His touch was so gentle, it sent a shiver through you. "Don't cry, my Y/N," he whispered.

         "How can I not? Y-You don't want to take a chance on us." It was Podrick's turn to look confused before a soft smile made its way to his face. "I didn't get the chance to answer you," he said softly, taking a step closer to you. You were trapped between him and the door to your chambers. He leaned in closer to lean his forehead on yours.

         "You are my choice, Y/N. You will always be my choice." He placed a feather-light kiss to your forehead and then to your cheek. "Podrick?" He hummed in response. "Come inside?" His eyes widened comically, making you giggle in the dark, empty corridor. "Nothing like that. Although, I would like to experience what Baelish's girls did some day, I just…I just want you to hold me for now."

         Podrick grinned and nodded, prompting you to open your chamber door. Not wanting him to be uncomfortable, you kept your dress on as you pulled him toward your bed. As soon as you were lying down, he wrapped his arms around you. You felt his lips on the top of your head. "I love you," he breathed out. His breath tickled and made another shiver run down your spine.

         You looked up at him. "I love you, too." The hand that wasn't wrapped around you came up to cup your cheek. He lightly ran his thumb across your skin. You couldn't pull your eyes away from his even if you wanted to. The only time you did was when closed them as your lips finally met for the first time. And when they did, you weren't sure you'd ever want to stop.

(a/n: I hope you like it!)

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[carnationcreation]

Hi! Can I make a request for a Luke (JATP) x reader with panic attacks/social anxiety? Where he doesn’t know reader has anxiety until she has a panic attack and just something kinda angsty but good boyfriend Luke fluff? Thank you!

TITLE: Embarrassment ( JATP Luke Patterson x reader)

✌🏻Masterlist

💕 Request an imagine here!

🥰 Join my tag list here!

Request: Yes! 

Prompt/summary:  Reader has social anxiety and helps her through a panic attack after a party

Word Count: 1,273

Warnings:  mentions of social anxiety and panic attacks, 

Authors note: I’m basing some of this off of my personal experiences with anxiety so if the symptoms don’t match up with what you wanted I apologize, everyone’s experience with it is different!

Anxiety manifests in people in so many ways. Once I felt the pain in my jaw from clenching it and felt it slowly become harder to breathe I knew things weren’t going to end well.

Luke had begged me to come to the after party all day yesterday and now that I’m here I would feel so guilty if I asked him if I could head home. I stayed quiet for most of the party, sitting on the couch with a bottle of water watching Luke dance with Reggie and Julie on the dancefloor. The lights were low and the flashing lights didn’t help with the feeling of panic rising in my chest as more people crowded into the teen club. Soon enough couples were on the couch next to me making out like animals. The feeling of being closed in made me stand up and flee to the bathroom. I don’t know if it was because of the flashing lights or my head spinning from not breathing well, but eventually I tripped and landed on the floor, my water bottle busting all over the floor.

My friends turned and saw me and ran over to help me up.

“You okay (y/n/n)?” Reggie asked.

“Yeah,” I gasped out, “I’m fine.”

Julie looked at my face with concern, “Are you sure?”

I looked around and saw so many people staring at me from my epic fail. My pause and gulp must’ve given me away because Luke quickly wrapped his hand around my waist before saying, “We’ll see you guys later okay?”

The phantoms waved as Luke led me outside and to his car. He opened the door for me and helped me inside and hopped in the driver's seat. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Luke said.

“Tell you about what?” I squeaked out.

Luke sighed, “(Y/n) you could’ve told me you were feeling anxious, we could’ve gone back to your house.”

“I didn’t want to ruin your night,” I said with tears in my eyes. 

“Why would you think you would ruin my night? You’re my girlfriend! I’m supposed to take care of you!” he said. I didn’t know if my reaction was from the stress of earlier or if it was because he started to raise his voice, but I burst out into unconsolable tears. Luke’s face softened and he reached over the console to remove my hands from my face.

“(Y/n) look at me,” he said, sobs were still echoing out of me. He pushed the hair off of my forehead and placed a kiss on my temple. My lungs felt like they were going to bust and I didn’t have any control over how I was breathing which made me panic even more.

“You’re safe I promise you, just listen to me. Breathe with me okay?” I heard him say. He held both of my hands in his and pressed his nose into my shoulder so I could hear each breath he let out. Tears were still running down my face as my breathing began to slow. 4-7-8 breathing was recommended by my therapist and Luke had seen Julie use it with me before a show one time. When he felt my breathing even out he pulled back and gently pulled my face to look at him.

“Better?”

I nodded, my lungs still felt tiny but at least they weren’t hiccuping like they were before. He wiped the tears away with his thumb leaning in to kiss me on the lips softly.

“Can you tell me how you feel?”

I paused and looked towards the radio to read the time, he pulled my face back to look at him again. I sighed, “Scared. My jaw hurts.”

“Scared of what honey?”

“Everyone saw me fall in there,” I said.

Luke reached into the back and grabbed his duffle bag, “No one’s gonna remember that baby. They’re all probably wasted and won’t remember anything about tonight. Do you remember when Julie’s voice cracked at sound check?”

I thought about it for a second, “Kinda, I forgot about it.”

Luke pulled out a bottle of painkillers and handed me two to take, “And that was only a few hours ago. Do you think they’ll even remember tomorrow? Even if they’re sober they’re gonna be focusing on other things to remember.”

I nodded my head and took the pills and a bottle of water from him. I knew he was using the reverse psychology to make me see that my thinking was irrational, it helped some but I still can’t quiet the little voice in the back of my head that is telling me these things.

“People feel embarrassment all the time, that doesn’t mean people will notice them as much as that mean voice in your head tells you they do.”

I smiled as he tucked a piece of hair behind my ear, “Thank you.”

He placed another soft kiss on my lips, “Why don’t you lean back, I’ll pull through Sonic on the way home so we get ice cream and fries, then go back to your place to watch a movie and eat?”

I smiled again as he started the car, I leaned the seat back and closed my eyes.

When I woke up there were two Blasts in the cupholder and a takeout bag at my feet, Luke opened my door and picked me up bridal style.

“Luke I can walk,” I protested.

“Nope. I’m making up for being a bad boyfriend.”

I stared at him in shock, “What?”

He deposited me on the couch before going to get the food.

“What do you mean bad boyfriend?”

Luke sighed, “I should’ve seen how anxious you were and I also shouldn’t have raised my voice at you while you were panicking. You have a panic attack that could’ve been avoided if I had just paid more attention.”

“Luke,” I sighed, “you’re definitely not a bad boyfriend. It’s not your fault, I should’ve told you I wanted to go home. You were frustrated I didn’t communicate how I was feeling so it’s partially my fault too.”

“No,” Luke said, he took a bite of a fry before continuing, “it’s no one’s fault. These kinds of things happen sometimes and the only thing we can do is to try and say what’s wrong and try to do better next time, okay?”

He held out his pink and I smiled as I wrapped mine around his, “Okay.”

He kissed our entwined fingers causing me to giggle before grabbing the remote to the TV. I grabbed the other order of fries and tossed a blanket over the both of us. He pulled me into his chest curling me up in a ball as I ate my fries. He put on our favorite movie and we ate our food in silence just basking in each other's presence. Eventually my eyes started to droop.

Luke looked down at me, “Tired?”

I nodded and he picked me up again and carried me to my room. I pulled out my pajamas to get ready for bed. Luke started to head out the door and I grabbed his hand, “Stay?”

“What about your parents?”

I smiled, “They’re gone for the weekend.”

He nodded and grabbed the spare set of shorts out of my drawer that I kept for him as I slipped into the bathroom to change. I came out and Luke was waiting for me in the bed with open arms. I clicked the light off in my bedroom before crawling in beside him to cuddle close to him.

He kissed my forehead, “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[writingsoftheghost]

Caught Up In A(n Illogical) Bet

(Caught up in a bet, but with intruloceit this time)

Deintruality Version Here

Based on this prompt by @kawaiikat54

“Oh, that’s a brilliant idea, Logan! You’re so smart!”

Logan feels his face heat up, “Oh, uhm, thank you, Remus.”

Remus cackles, “Do you mind helping me with some other things? You’re the smartest person here so I wanna get your input.”

Logan’s blush darkens, “Y-Yes, of course. What do you need?”

*****

“Logan, could I borrow your expertise for a moment?” Janus asks when Logan emerges the common room.

“Of course, what can I do for you?”

“Do you think that perhaps my outfit may be a detriment to my goal of gaining acceptance?” Janus examines his capulet critically.

“Hm, I am not the best with emotional connotations, perhaps Patton would be better for—”

“No no,” Janus reaches out and grabs the logical side’s hand before he can turn away, Logan blushes at the unexpected contact, “You have a better understanding of psychology, Patton would merely tell me what I want to hear. You on the other hand tell me what I need to hear. I want your advice.”

“O-Oh, I see. Well, I am flattered that you think of me in such high regards,” Logan’s face is burning, why can’t he just take a compliment? “I think, perhaps, that your outfit has a ‘villainish’ flair due to Thomas’s obsession with cartoons and the way their villains look, but it also looks quite professional, and that has me quite fond of it. I think that maybe, in time, your look will come off as more charming than evil.”

Janus smiles at Logan, “That’s what I’ve been hoping. Thank you, Logan, you’re the best.”

Logan’s face fills with heat again, “Happy to help.” He rushes back to his room, hoping his blush wasn’t as noticeable as it felt.

*****

Janus and Remus discuss Logan’s reaction to positive comments that evening.

“He gets so flustered, hearing that calm of his falter is just perfect!” Remus laughs.

“I know, it’s quite endearing, to see him turn so red all because I thanked him.”

“Oh, that’s nothing, I told him he was smart and I thought he’s burst into flames!” Remus squeals.

“I touched his hand and I swear he needed a minute just to speak again,” Janus counters Remus’s bragging comment.

“Hm, you think you’re better than me, Jan?”

“All I’m saying is that I have a...certain charm with Logan that you simply can’t match.”

Remus scoffs, “Oh yeah? Bet you can’t back that up!”

Janus smirks, “Care to test me?”

Remus relays his idea to Janus, a bet, to see who can make Logan blush more in a week. If Remus loses, he has to take a bath. (“Why do you always bet that?!” “Because you never do it.”) if Janus wins, he makes Remus’s favorite dessert.

The bet began Sunday, it started off simple enough.

“Hey, Logie, how’s the prettiest nerd in the world doing?” Remus coos as he pokes his head around the doorway of Logan’s room.

“I—erm—hello, Remus,” Logan mumbles, his face down, trying and failing to hide the heat in his cheeks. “Can I help you?”

“I was just wondering if you could tell me some interesting ways someone could die in space?”

“Oh!” Logan’s eyes light up

“Well, there’s the obvious ones, lack of oxygen, freezing to death, and the pressure imbalance causing you to...”

Logan continues his list, Remus listens to all of them, asking questions on some. Seeing Logan’s eyes light up when he talks about space is an entirely different experience to Remus.

Later, Logan has a similar experience with Janus.

“Oh, Logan, darling?” The nickname causes an immediate flush of heat to Logan’s face. He turns around in the hallway.

“Yes, Janus?” He squeaks out, fighting to keep some of his composure.

“I was just wondering if you’d like to watch a documentary with me, it’s about psychology, and you’re the only one intelligent enough to appreciate it.”

Logan’s face, which had begun to cool down, quickly heated up again at that. “That-That’s, quite, nice of you to say.”

“I don’t mean it,” Janus says in that obviously lying way he has.

Logan smiles, “I would like to watch the documentary with you.”

*****

The slow start lasts only for the first day. Things quickly start to escalate, Janus starts complimenting Logan’s technique on everything. His posture, the way he folds laundry, just about everything he does. Remus asks for more facts, complimenting Logan on all he knows, and for being patient enough to answer his question. They also compliment Logan on his appearance, the way his hair falls, the light hitting his eyes just so, Janus calls him gorgeous, Remus calls him sexy. Each compliment gets Logan’s face redder than before.

By Wednesday they’ve started using physical touch to get Logan to blush. (Remus was given ground rules almost immediately, “Don’t make him blush like that Remus it doesn’t count”) Janus kisses Logan’s hand in greeting, (Logan squeaks the first time it happens) Remus holds Logan’s hand while he talks, they each play with his hair or stroke his calves while they watch tv. Logan doesn’t know what caused this sudden change to happen, but he found that he didn’t want it to stop.

No one had ever paid this much attention to him! Logan didn’t even know he’d been craving this until he’d had it! They asked for his opinion! And when he gave it they listened! It was all Logan wanted, and the added praise was so much better than Logan ever would’ve thought! The touching was a shock, Logan hadn’t realized how nice it could feel to have someone’s hand in his, or to have someone play with his hair, to have gentle arms wrap around him before going up to bed. To feel someone’s lips press against his forehead when he began to doze off whilst reading on the couch.

Logan tried to think of a reason for the sudden affection, but he was too distracted by how great it felt to receive it to do much investigating. By Friday he’d stopped being shocked when Remus told him he looked incredibly fuckable, or Janus calling him dashing.

Every time he sat down a hand would reach for him, or arms would be opened in invitation, and Logan would blush red and melt into the touch every single time. He’d grown to not only expect the displays, but to enjoy them. But I matter how common it became, Logan couldn’t help but blush each time.

The following Sunday, however, everything was different. When he came downstairs Janus merely said good morning, no comment on the way he’d done his hair. He’d opted for a different hair product, he’d taken to caring a bit more about looking nice since Remus and Janus had started complimenting him. Logan brushes it off, expecting Janus to call him beautiful every time they saw each other was illogical.

But...Remus didn’t say anything to him either, just waved to him on his way out of the kitchen. Logan brushed it off. It wasn’t like he could expect all of that attention to be constant, that was unfair to Janus and Remus. But as the day went on, neither one of them said anything to Logan. He even went so far as to initiate the affection. Sitting next to Remus on the couch while he read, hoping for Remus to wrap his arms around him, or even just hold his hand.

Remus did neither of those things, later Logan tried the same thing with Janus, he got a smile, but nothing else.

Logan began to worry that he’d done something wrong, but they didn’t act like they were angry with him. They spoke to him in the same tone, they didn’t avoid him when he entered the room.

Logan continued to wait, when he went to bed without so much as a hug from either side...he began to really fear he’d made a mistake.

The next day was the same, Logan tried everything, being extra helpful, sitting closer than he normally would on the couch, he’d even done his hair differently and worn a different tie in hopes of garnering some comments on his appearance.

None of that helped, Logan felt sick, he spent the next two days struggling to recall what he could’ve done to ruin it. He’d just discovered how wonderful affection could be, and now it was gone!

By Thursday night Logan has worked himself into a state of such distress that he found he was crying over the schedule he’d been working on. It was late, everyone else had gone to bed, but Logan couldn’t sleep. So he’d decided to be productive, he’d gone down to the kitchen to work at the table, but had ended up dwelling on the situation with Janus and Remus.

Remus entered the kitchen right as a sob rocked Logan’s body. Remus immediately rushed to his side.

“What’s wrong, Logie?” Remus asks worriedly.

Logan’s ashamed at how difficult it is to speak, he can barely get air in, let alone words out. He shouldn’t be crying, it was stupid for him to be crying over this.

“Hey, hey, breathe, baby. Come on, it’s alright.” Remus reaches out and rubs Logan’s back, starting to get really concerned. Logan never cried, and he’s rarely seen anyone cry this hard.

“I ap-apologize-ze,” Logan chokes out.

Remus shakes his head, “For what, Logie? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I-I shouldn’t be falling apart like this, especially over something so...so trivial,” he sighs.

Remus rubs his hand up and down Logan’s back again, leaving his hand resting there, “If it’s upset you this much I doubt it’s small, what happened, baby?”

Logan has just enough shame left to blush at the pet name and the softness with which Remus says it. “It really isn’t a big deal, Remus. I’m sorry to have bothered you with my illogical emotions.” He starts to leave.

“Uh-uh, come here,” Remus reaches for the logical side and pulls him back to the chair he was in, “Tell me what has your tie in a twist.”

“It’s ju-just th-at,” Logan takes a breath, hoping to stop the shake in his voice, Remus’s hand moves on his back again and Logan melts under the touch like he always has.

“Take your time, baby. It’s okay.”

Logan nods and takes another breath, “Did I do something to upset you?”

Remus blanches, “What?”

Logan looks away from the duke, “You and Janus seem to be, uhm, upset with me?”

Remus tugs Logan gently to his lap, Logan is still shaking a little and Remus is starting to worry that the force of holding back tears could make te nerd explode. He pushes the morbid image to the side and asks his next question carefully, “Why do you think that, Lo?”

Logan’s face flushes again, he’s beginning to feel foolish. He had been reading too much into it, and now Remus has seen him cry like a child.

“Lo? Come on, talk to me, you’re scaring me a little.”

Logan clears his throat, he tries to swallow his embarrassment, “Apologies, I—”

“Don’t apologize to me, Lo.”

“Er—anyway, I simply assumed that I’d done something to upset you and Janus, as you’ve stopped, uh...treating me in the manner you’d only recently adopted anyway. It’s illogical, my apolo—”

“Logan...” Logan stops talking, Remus looks like he’s in pain, “Is this because we stopped flirting with you?”

Logan’s face flushes a bright red, “I suppose so, forgive me, I merely—”

“Logan, I love to hear you talk but I’m really gonna need you to be quiet for a minute!” Remus cuts in. Logan shrinks, he must’ve really upset Remus now.

Remus feels Logan tense up in his lap, “No no no, hey hey, I’m not mad. Logie, you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just that I—we—um...here let’s go get Janus and we’ll talk this out, okay? I’m so sorry, baby. This isn’t your fault, this is ours. I promise you didn’t do anything wrong.” He pulls Logan fully to his chest, holding him securely.

Logan fails to hold back another sob and just lie that he’s crying into Remus’s shoulder. “Oh, baby,” Remus whispers, “it’s alright, it’s gonna be alright.”

“Plea-please don’t let go, I can’t-I can’t,” Remus shushes him.

“I won’t let you go, baby. It’s alright, just breathe, sweetheart.” Remus rubs his back, Logan shakes in his arms, Remus picks him up, “Lets go get, Jan, m’kay?”

Logan nods into his shoulder.

They stop outside of Janus’s bedroom door, before Remus can knock though, Logan stops him. “It’s late,” he whispers to Remus, “We shouldn’t disturb him.”

“He’s still up, and we need to clear some things up. He needs to know what happened,” Remus reaches to knock again.

A pajama clad Janus appears in the doorway. “What do you want, Rem—”

He stops when he sees Logan.

“What’s wrong? Is he alright?”

Logan hides his face further in Remus’s shoulder. “I may have overreacted to—”

“No, Lo, no. I’m gonna explain because you won’t do it without blaming yourself for this.”

Logan lifts his head and looks indignantly at Remus, “But I—”

“Shh,” Remus turns to Janus, “We did something bad, Jan.”

Janus steps into his room, allowing Remus to enter. Remus sits down on the bed, he presses a kiss to Logan’s forehead before he explains what happened.

“Oh, oh, Logan, dearest. This is my fault, I should’ve realized this was a bad idea.”

Logan shakes his head, “It was all for a bet?”

Janus’s heart clenches, “Oh, darling, no. We really care about you, we shouldn’t have shown you just because of a bet. And we definitely shouldn’t have stopped. I’m so sorry.”

Logan nods sadly, “It’s alright, I’m just...glad you’re not mad at me.”

“Baby...” Remus brushes the nerd’s hair from his face, “Would it be alright if we went back to showing you affection?”

Logan’s eyes light up, “You would do that?”

Remus feels a twinge in his chest, “Yeah, baby. If we’d only known you wanted this, we would’ve been doing this long before our stupid bet.”

Janus reaches over and tugs Logan away from Remus and into his own arms, “I’m so sorry, darling. Would you like to stay with me tonight?”

Logan nods tiredly, “That would be...wonderful.”

Remus grins, “Can I stay too? I wanna show our Logie as much love as possible now that I know he likes it.”

Janus hums in agreement, quickly moving Logan to the center of the bed, where he and Remus quickly surround him in a hug, Logan yawns in between them. “Goodnight.”

They each press a kiss to his forehead, “Goodnight, Logan.”

—————

Taglist: @idont-freaking-know @aceawkwardunicorn @kawaiikat54 @emo--nightmaree @a-yeet-bop-bop-boom @me-a-mess-morelikelythanyouthink @katlikethesword

#wow this is super long #yikes #so sorry #sanders sides #ts remus #fanfic #remus sanders #sanders sides fic #thomas sanders #ts logan #writing #ts janus #ts deceit #janus sanders #logan sanders #intruloceit #caught up in a bet

[mikauzoran]

The Ascendancy of The Plan ™ (re: Mikau’s WIPs)

So, I feel like I’ve gotten a lot accomplished in the past few months since I last did one of these status updates. Most of the stories I ended up writing were much longer than anticipated, and I’ve had a lot of ideas just pop into my head that I hadn’t originally been planning, so this list isn’t going to look very different from the last one, but I promise that I have accomplished things, and there are some new projects in the works. ^.^;

I’m currently posting the final chapters of Among the Wild Things and Betting Against the House. Below is a list of works I have planned for the coming months. Let me know what sounds interesting or what you’re excited for.

Anhedonia: When Adrien Met Marinette: (Adrienette, post-reveal/pre-relationship, roommates) So, I’m taking a screenplay writing class, and we’re studying the scripts of several movies to get a feel for how the writer evokes different cognitive responses from the audience. One of the movies is When Harry Met Sally. I’ve never seen this movie, but apparently it’s about two friends finally ending up together after some trials and tribulations. It’s about never giving up on finding love and happiness...only I’m feeling depressed at the moment, and I don’t want to hear about true love because I’m lonely and despair of ever finding someone to share a life with. So I’m using my feelings to write a story. ^.^ Naturally. XD

It’s post-reveal/pre-relationship Adrienette. They’re roommates, and there’s been a misunderstanding because Marinette didn’t tell Adrien how she felt about him after she found out he was Chat Noir, and he’s told her that he’s over her because he thinks that the only way to preserve their friendship (since she’s already turned down his advances as Ladybug, so, obviously, she wouldn’t want him as Marinette either). It has a happy ending, and they straighten things out because I still believe in finding true love and happiness. XD I’m a sap like that, and these two deserve happiness.

Ladrien Present: (Adrienette, Ladrien) I’m still trying to write a story where Ladybug brings Adrien’s birthday party to him. ^.^; I have half of it written (the Adrienette half), and I have an outline for the rest. I just...need to sit down and make myself write it. I’ve seriously been procrastinating on this one. I don’t know what my deal is. -.-;

Marichat Prompt: This is an overflow prompt I received as part of my Productive Procrastination Prompt Giveaway. It’s about Chat Noir visiting Marinette and it somehow coming up in conversation that Marinette has always thought of Chat as a player. For some reason, this makes Chat really angry because he can’t stand her in particular thinking that about him. I thought this story out a couple months ago, but I didn’t write it down, so now I’ve forgotten, and I’m going to have to think up the plot all over again. XD

Alyadrino Prompt: Someone sent me an Ask that said, “Snuggle party makes me imagine what if nino and alya accidentally did to adrien what luka and marinette intentionally did to him in shades 12″, and I thought, “…Oh, all right. Why not?” I had a basic outline of what I wanted to do with this story a couple months ago, but I didn’t write it down, so now I have to figure it out all over again. Oh, well. I have the basic idea, I think.

Lukadrigaminette: At the beginning of the month, I thought, “I should do Valentine’s Day stories!” I ended up writing a Marichat one, and then I had this idea. It’s not Valentine’s Day related, so I decided to shelve it for later. So, several years ago, my friend and I concocted this scheme to bake for our respective crushes and win their hearts that way. It’s a really fond memory for me, and I’m turning it into a Lukadrigaminette story. Luka and Kagami join forces to bake for Adrien and Marinette in order to win their love.

Plagg and Wayzz Prompt: I got a comment on one of my stories that said, “Can you do a top wayzz bottom plagg one? Preferably in universe and in human form. Doesn’t have to be smut.” First I thought, “What the bloody hell?” because it was a comment on a Lukadrien story, and that’s all it said, and I thought, “Well, that’s random.” I’ve never really written Wayzz before, but this gave me the idea for a story where the team is up against an akuma that somehow separates them from their kwamis, leaving the heroes unable to detransform and the kwamis in defenseless human form. What I came up with really doesn’t have anything to do with the prompt other than Plagg and Wayzz will both be in human form. It will probably just end up being a Lady Noir identity reveal piece, honestly.

Supportive Adrien Lukadrien One-Shot(?): I haven’t actually pinned this story down well yet. ^.^; I was just thinking that I wanted to write something where Adrien is the one supporting and encouraging Luka, since I typically write Luka being a supportive presence for Adrien. I was thinking that the scenario could be that Luka is feeling down because Marinette still loves Adrien and things aren’t going well between Marinette and Luka, so Adrien takes Luka on an outing and confesses his love and they live happily ever after or something.

The only thing is that a different scenario is trying to creep into this story. It’s really weird. It’s post-Papillon defeat, and Adrien is twenty-four (Luka is twenty-six). He’s been in kind of rough shape the past few years since his father was arrested and he lost his family and home and fortune. He couldn’t finish university, and he’s been travelling around, trying to find work and make a life for himself. He ends up back in Paris, broke, and auditions for a band because he happened to see a flyer advertising for a new lead vocalist. It just so happens that it’s Luka’s band, and Luka ends up finding out about Adrien’s situation and taking him in and feeding him...but that scenario is just more Luka taking care of Adrien, and that’s not what I wanted to write. XD It also feels like multiple chapters, and I don’t want to go there. Oh, well. We’ll see what happens.

Adrien Trapped in AU-Land: (Adrienette, canon universe featuring AUs) My idea is based off of a writing prompt submitted by @graaythekwami on the @miraculousfanworks Discord server: AU where all the characters wake up in a different AU every chapter, fully remembering what happened in the last AU. My idea is for Chat Noir to get hit by an akuma (probably named Escapist or something equally dumb ^.^) who traps Adrien in a series of alternate realities (AUs) until he realizes his feelings for Marinette and manages to break free.

L’Amour de Loin: (Lukadrien, post-Papillon defeat, Félix wingman) I did a sneak peek for this here. This was one of the two “Winter Lukadrien Pieces” mentioned on my last status update. Adrien is living in London with his aunt and cousin three years after Papillon’s defeat and arrest. He’s in rough shape and hasn’t kept in touch with anyone from Paris. One day, he gets a text from Luka out of the blue, and they rekindle their friendship. Félix acts as wingman to ensure that it turns into something more.

Adrienette Hanahaki: Awhile ago I did an ask game about a trope I’d like to try writing, and the one I came up with was Adrien with Hanahaki disease (The one where you start coughing up flower petals due to unrequited love making flowers grow inside your lungs). I’ve been thinking about it, and I’ve decided I’d like to actually write this story. My basic outline is: Adrien starts showing symptoms, and Gabriel badgers him about whom he’s in love with, and Adrien just blurts out, “Marinette!” And Gabriel threatens Marinette into dating Adrien, and they start fake dating but then fall in love.

Happenstance and Magic: Marichat May 2019. Marinette and Chat Noir adopt kittens together, and Adrien tries to get Marinette to see that he’s not perfect but still a worthwhile person deserving of her love.

I’ve been thinking about this one, and I think I’m going to cut the number of prompts I actually use. Once I’m done with the other stories, I want to sit down and make a more thorough outline of what I want the story to be and which prompts I’m going to use to get me there.

The Seduction of Adrien Agreste: This is part of the Springtime in Wonderland (Daisy/Jabberwocky) series. It deals with Luka and Adrien experimenting with physical intimacy to see if they can reach a compromise where Luka and (asexual) Adrien are both comfortable and have their needs met.

Things Currently on the Backburner:

The Rejects Club: Predominantly Marichat with Adrienette. Chat Noir and Marinette unexpectedly grow very close very fast as they open up to one another after Marinette overhears Adrien seemingly dismissing her as a romantic prospect. Identity shenanigans at farcical levels ensue.

I can’t really deal with Rejects right now. I’m feeling super overwhelmed by basic life stuff, so I don’t really have the mental or emotional energy to put into a story where I don’t know how many more chapters there will be until the end. I’m thinking that what I have planned will take at least another one or two hundred thousand words. This thing is just so massive, and I’m not in good enough mental heath to deal with it right now.

Springtime in Wonderland: Yeah, no. See the paragraph directly above. This is another one that’s going to take another couple hundred thousand words to complete, and I just don’t have the stamina in me right now. I’d rather focus on smaller projects that actually feel attainable. I’m trying not to burn myself out.

And that’s it for the moment. I’m sure I’ll come up with plenty of other stuff between now and the next time I do a status update post, but is there anything that you’re particularly interested in? Let me know what you’re thinking.

Thoughts? Feelings? Suggestions? Opinions? ^.^

#Adrinette #Adrienette #Marichat #Lukadrien #Lukadrigaminette #Alyadrino #Lady Noir #Miraculous Ladybug #Adrien Agreste #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Chat Noir #Ladybug #Luka Couffaine #Status Update #Mikau's WIP

[theonetheycallhannah]

The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Chapter 16: Sit Rep

Characters: Captain Logan “Sy” Syverson, various other original supporting/secondary characters (This includes Sy’s Army Buddies of varying rank as follows: Kevin Kaufmann, Nate Banning, Chad Randall, Matt Styles, Jake Ryburn, and Travis Hodges. I apologize if I’ve mixed up their names anywhere. I just gave them last names and sometimes rank so they could be called something other than their first names for sake of variety! lol!)

Summary: Sy meets up with his Army buddies and they are eager to help.

Romance and Smut Abound HERE!

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: Language, firearms, implication of abuse and violence

Author’s Note: Guys, we are getting closer! Our couple will be back together soon! I can’t wait and I know most of you feel the same! I hope the strike team members aren’t too muddled and confusing. If they are, I’m very open to your feedback and suggestions on how to clarify and improve! Thank you to everyone, long time readers, and new fans picked up along the way! I cherish you all, and would never have gotten this far in the story if it wasn’t for each and every one of you! I hope you enjoy the 16th chapter (18th installment…remember when I thought this would just be a few chapters of fluff with a smutty conclusion? Lol!) of The treatment of Captain Syverson.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism. This is an original work by me, Hannah. Please reblog if you wish to share. Please do not repost either in whole or part, as the work of anyone but myself. Thanks so much for reading!

Tags:

@onlyhenrys @cavillryarchive @summersong69 @titty-teetee @bloodyinspiredfuck @agniavateira @oddsnendsfanfics @omgkatinka @thisismysecretthirstblog @speakerforthedead0 @tumblnewby  @suavechops @radkesgirl83 @wheretheriversrunintothesea @heartfelt-pen @auds24  @geekycanuck @lunarstarknight @wilma-g  @coldmuffinbanditshoe @feralrunaway  @sugarpenchant @bichibibi @mzchievous-blog

If you want to be notified when I post a new chapter or work, I’ll be happy to add you to my tag list! Stricken blogs are getting personal messages from me when a new chapter is uploaded because Tumblr’s faulty tagging system will not stand in the way of me delivering what the people want!(?) lol! (Although…their lackadaisical notification system might…sorry for that. I have no control. lol!)

X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@

Sy sat in his truck in the parking lot of Cade's. He couldn't help but think about the last time he was here. The altercations with Elliott, both inside the bar and outside, the friendships he'd started to build with the other fellas in Shane's work group, the simple way Shane pulled off the elegance of minimalism with her wardrobe and makeup, the ride home…and the night of lovemaking that followed. He had made a mistake. He shouldn't have agreed to come tonight. He was gonna leave. His right hand reached for the keys in the ignition, a firm grip ready to set the engine roaring again, when he was startled by a rap at his window.

Tap-tappa-tap-tap his friend Kevin had just rhythmically knocked with one knuckle on the window. He was smiling and waving exuberantly, like a puppy whose master had just come home.

Sy's scowl softened into a sheepish grin and he knocked back tap-tap.  

Kevin waited near Sy's front fender while he got out of his truck.

"How ya doin' Kevin?" he greeted his old friend warmly.

"Alright, I s'pose! You?"

"Oh…I'm makin' it, I guess. What are you up to these days? Still workin' at the plant?" Kevin had worked for the 3M factory over in Lebanon, Missouri since his last tour. Sy knew if he just got him talking about his life, Sy wouldn't have to give him details about his own, which he was going to avoid like the plague, if he could tonight.

"Yup, I actually just got a promotion. I'm a line manager now." And Sy could barely congratulate him before he started delving into the details as the two men walked into Cade's.

It was already busy, even for a Friday night. But the rest of the guys had already claimed a table between the dart boards and the pool tables, and were working on a couple of pitchers of beer. The two were welcomed warmly and only slightly teased about walking in together.

With the group finally assembled, they began taking turns giving report on their lives. It began with Kevin, who, having already begun with Sy, continued with a brief recap for the others. Sy exhaled with relief when Matt, who was seated on the other side of Kevin piped up to speak next, having recently proposed to his long time girlfriend. They were going to get to him last, if at all. He listened as well as he could as he battled the troubled thoughts in his head by bombarding them with beer. Unbeknownst to him, his friend Nate, who'd organized the gathering, had been observing his behavior with curiosity, and a measure of concern. He didn't let Jake finish talking about his latest dalliance into what they were all sure was a pyramid scheme disguised as direct sales. Even though Jake insisted it was not.

"Well, I'm curious as to why Sy's been so tight-lipped all evening. What's on your mind, Captain?"

"Nothin' Nate. Just enjoying a few beers with old friends." Sy lied, not convincing anyone at the table, least of all Nate, who had been one of his closest friends while they were stationed together.

"If I wanted to hear bullshit, I'd have let Jake keep talking about the Duraplex scam."

"It's not a scam, guys, it's real supplements for busy people!" Jake defended.

"Can it, Hodges. We aren't buying it, and we aren't signing up to sell it, either." Nate focused again on Sy. "Come on, man. You told me on the phone you had a lot going on. What is it? Female troubles?" He snickered, as did the other guys.

Sy looked into his glass, through the foam and into the honey liquid below it with a rueful grin. "In a sense."

He took a huge drink of the beer, five gulps, nearly emptying it, fortifying himself to speak.

"My girlfriend is missing." Everyone froze in position as they processed this.

Half a dozen questions hit his ears at once. Which he could have handled if he hadn't had almost a full pitcher by himself.

He shut them down, and began to tell them the story of how he met Shane and their sort of whirlwind romance. He paused for a moment to pour himself another beer.

"Never heard you talk about a woman like that, Sy." His friend Chad piped up.

"Never felt this way before, man. She's…she's the one."

"You said she was missing, though?" Nate asked, brow furrowed in concern.

Sy continued, talking about their argument, reconciliation, and then his leaving for training, ending his briefing with the phone call he got from Shane's boss.

"That's fucked up, man." Matt said. "What are you gonna do about it?" His worry seemed genuine, as well, as if he was putting himself in Sy's shoes. Sy assumed because he had been in love with Tonya, his now fiancé since they were in high school, even though she didn't come around on him until he came home on leave one holiday weekend.

"I've already gone to the police with my statement and an idea for a prime suspect."

"You think she was kidnapped?" Brad Randall, who was a Sergeant for the Rolla Police Department, inquired.

"I personally have no doubts that she was kidnapped, and I am a hun'ert percent certain it was her shithead ex."

"And you don't think she's just…ghosted you?" Brad prompted. The thought put a painful tightness in Sy's chest, but it passed quickly. He knew she wouldn't do that. And not just to him.

"No way, man. She left her phone. She didn't tell work. She didn't even tell her parents. Shane takes her phone with her from room to room. She's glued to it. She'd never do that to her coworkers, who are practically family, and she'd certainly tell her parents if she was going to leave town for any amount of time. It's just…not her. I know her."

"And who's this ex? What's his deal? Why is he on the short list of suspects?"

"He IS the list, Brad. He was abusive when they were together. And a cheater. And a liar. And he tried to jump me right outside just a few weeks back. Ask Candace. She was behind the bar when he started getting in Shane's face up there. And I'd bet she saw what happened out in the parking lot, too." He gestured to the sporty blonde bartender with a high ponytail and a Cardinal's jersey when he mentioned her, and then pointed toward the windows looking out onto the dozen or more vehicles parked outside.

"Can we do anything?" Kevin asked, clamping a hand on Sy's shoulder.

"Nothin'. But I appreciate the offer, brother." And he returned the contact with a clap to the other man's shoulder.

Nate and Brad exchanged pointed looks, and Nate countered Sy's rejection.

"I wouldn't say THAT, Sy."

"What do you mean?" Sy looked at Nate as if he was pedaling snake oil…or Jake's supplements.

"I think…that we CAN do something. To help you find Shane."

"We all have military experience, and some of us have connections that could be very useful." Added Brad. "I'm on the Force. I can handle getting intel on the guy."

"I'm in to help with transpo." Matt Styles raised his hand to offer up the vehicles in his transportation service, Rydes with Styles. Sy hated when words were misspelled for the sake of gimmicks…but he had to give Matt credit for that one.

"And Travis and I still work at the base. We can arrange gear." Jake added as Travis nodded.

"And whatever else you need, I'm in too." Kevin concluded.

"No way, guys. You can't stick your necks out for me like that. I won't have it."

"Sy…You know I talked to Lopez after that last mission the two of you were on?" Travis met Sy's eye as he spoke. "He said you had your team carry out Kominski's body. And that you took on most of, and then all of his bodyweight, just so Freeman could cover everyone. Said you were hurt, yourself, but helped him, carried him, to your extraction point. Up several flights of stairs."

Sy had no response other than a blank stare. It seemed to say all it needed to, because Travis continued.

"Lopez is alive and the Kominski girls got to say a proper goodbye to David. Plus, that mission WAS a success because you got the target. I know it's still classified, but…I think we all know the significance of what you did by leading that mission. You didn't leave a man, living or dead, behind."

"And we aren't gonna let your girl get left behind, either. We're gonna take that sonofabitch out. Because what do we do?" Nate declared, ending with the call Sy had always used at the end of his mission briefs.

The whole table, including a reluctant Sy, recited “We embrace the darkness and the suffering.”

“And why do we do it?” Nate continued.

“So that our fellow man is free to live in peace." Sy looked around the table at all of these men he had served with, fought with, watched comrades fall with, and fought against tyranny with. He thought most of them could have come up with their own story about his role in their military time, but the mission Travis was talking about outlined what he figured was the most significant sacrifice he had ever made for a teammate.

"Well…I guess we need to come up with a plan, then." Sy smiled and finished off the beer in his glass before laying it out for the others.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sy had given them all missions tailored to their own strengths and connections. Brad would gather all the info he could on Elliott. Matt would reserve vehicles. Jake and Travis would procure tactical gear for the team, and Nate…Nate would provide weapons. Pistols and blades. Ammo. Holsters. Even flash grenades and smoke bombs.

Cade's was too public to talk about their plans, so Sy told everyone to rendezvous at his house the very next afternoon. They sat around the patio table on his back deck while they waited for everyone to arrive. Jake was late.

"Well, I guess 'direct sales' waits for no man, and we can't wait for Ryburn anymore. Styles, report?" Sy commenced the meeting.

"I have three Suburbans that are only a couple years old. They're black, discreet, and all glass is tinted within an inch of it's life. Even the license plate covers. I'll make sure they're fueled and ready." Matt stated.

"Aces. Richardson?" Travis spoke up next.

"Yeah, Jake had to go in for a late shift last night after we met, but I talked to him. He's gonna get vests for everyone, eyewear, comms, the whole works. All rated for Black Ops. He told me a bit ago he was following up on a lead and was hoping it would pan out. Said he had a hunch." Travis shrugged, not certain what his friend was up to, but not that concerned.

"Sounds good. Randall?"

"I made up some dossiers for everyone that includes everything I could find on Thomas. He doesn't have a ton of priors. Mostly drunk and disorderly's that were thrown out, because he got the right representation and the wrong judge. He must have someone backing him, because I have no job on file for him. No employer has run a background on him in ten years. Last known address is from six years ago, when he filed a change of address from an apartment in the Cottage Hills complex to…407 Oak Street."

"That's Shane's address." Sy interjected. "He must not have changed it since she kicked him out."

"It seems so. But it's so weird. I don't see any credit cards, online orders, not even a Netflix account on the guy. He's totally fallen off the grid since Shane. I did get into some social media accounts, but he hasn't posted to anything in the last 18 months."

"Really?"

"Yeah, he was posting hot and heavy about this girl, Kara Hutch. 37. Lives over in Waynesville. But his last Facebook status just says, 'What a waste.' and 'feeling betrayed' and that was in February of last year."

"Hmm, do you think--" Sy was interrupted by the unexpectedly loud and abrupt sound of his front door flying open and Aika, with them on the deck, barking like they were about to be murdered. She was ready to kill whatever came through next. The men, all of them battle hardened veterans sporting conceal and carry permits, were out of their seats and in defensive stances in a fraction of a second. Aiming at an unseen enemy. A figure approached in the shadow of Sy's kitchen, arms raised and slowing as it saw several barrels aimed for its head and chest.

"Woah, woah, woah, guys it's me! It's Jake! Stand down!"

"Are you FUCKING INSANE, Corporal!?" Sy asked, reverting to Captain mode. "You just snuck up on and burst in on a group of soldiers. Do you comprehend how close you came to looking more like Swiss Cheese than a man, Ryburn?!" Sy scolded, fire in him rising, but more out of an angry concern for the friend they nearly shot.

"Sorry, sir, err, Sy. I was focused on getting here for my report." Jake said, out of breath.

"Travis already told us about the gear, Ryburn. You didn't need to bust in like that." Nate berated.

"Oh, guys. What I've got is way better than night vision devices. I might have an address for our guy."

"How in seven hells did YOU get an address?" Brad exclaimed, pride wounded as intel was his task.

"I know, dude, that was on you, but…I overheard a conversation when I was doing some work on equipment in the Air Traffic Control tower."

"What could you have possibly overheard in ATC?" Sy was incredulous.

"Do you want me to tell you, or would you like to keep screaming at me?"

Sy called Aika off and let Jake onto the deck, but the German Shepherd was still eyeing the corporal with marked skepticism.

"So I kept hearing this controller talking to the other girl at her station. She kept talking about her boyfriend…whose name was Elliott." Eyebrows went up all around the table. "Yeah, and he fit the description in every way. Physical appearance, textbook narcissism, the works. I went to the personnel office when I got done with the service call and told the attendant that the girl had helped me with my gear and I wanted to send her an email to thank her. She gave me a contact sheet on Sasha King. I looked her up on my lunchbreak, and found some photos of her with a guy I think might be Elliott." Jake showed Sy an image he'd saved to his phone. "Is this him?"

"Yup, that's the guy." Sy's blood was boiling again at the smiles on the couple's faces. He didn't deserve happiness. He didn't deserve a pretty girlfriend. He should die alone, starving for the love he deprived others. "You say you got an address?"

"Yeah, the gal in personnel printed me a full demo sheet. The only thing we don't have is a social." Sy noted the redacted 9-digit code in one corner of the document Jake had handed him. He read out loud. 3502 Highway D. St. Robert, MO.

"You boys feel up to a little recon tonight?" They all nodded, excitedly, patting Jake on the back, and high fiving him in congratulations on the invaluable find. Even Brad commended him on his detective skills and told him he'd have a job on the Force with him if he ever wanted a change. The corporal almost blushed.

The men went back into the house and through the front door to the driveway where they were all parked.

"Jake, you brought all the gear, too?"

"Sure did, Sy. There's vests, belts, NVDs and helmets to mount. There's plenty for everyone." Jake opened the back of his Jeep as if it were a buffet of delicious tactical equipment. Sy found among the gear a large case and opened it out of curiosity. A sound amplifier with headphones. That was going with him, as it appeared there was only one.

"I'll outfit everyone with guns and ammo later. But here are some tac knives, and three of each diversionary devices for each member of the team." Nate passed out packs with the blades, smoke grenades, and flash bombs.

"Okay, rendezvous at Matt's shop at 1800. We'll go over some procedures for the evening and get set up with the rest of our weaponry then. Okay?" General nods of ascent and "mmhmms" in confirmation of the plan came from the men. Sy continued, "Maybe get some rest between now and then. I don't know how long this is going to take."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sy got to Matt's a little early. 1730. Nate showed up about ten minutes later and pulled in next to Sy, leaving the rear doors accessible to arm the team. The men got out of their vehicles and began double checking Nate's inventory.

"Nervous?" Nate said after exchanging the usual pleasantries.

"I didn't think I was. But just now, I got to thinking about what that…monster is doing to the love of my life. What he's putting her through, if he's even let her live. What are we going to come across when we get to this place?"

"You can't think like that. She's not Schrödinger's cat. You have to be positive here. This mission depends on your strength as a leader. You're gonna do great. And Shane is gonna be fine. We all will. Have a little faith, man." Nate patted Sy on the back in encouragement. Sy appreciated it. But he thought he might have to compartmentalize, instead. Think of this as just another mission. Forget that Shane was involved. Even if it wasn't healthy, it might at least be helpful.

Matt arrived soon after and waved at the two men as he pulled in on the other side of Nate. He got out and greeted his friends, all of them shooting the breeze and enfolding the others into the conversation as they got there. Kevin was the last to arrive, just before 1800, when the briefing commenced.

"So," Sy began, more timidly than was his usual way. "First, guys, I wanna say, I appreciate y'all so much for doing this. For putting in the time and the resources to help me and Shane. I owe y'all more than I can repay, but that doesn't mean I won't try. Within reason." He grinned and his friends chuckled.

"Now, we've got the comms set up. We'll be in each other's ears, so we can report in real time. I've looked up an aerial view of the farm on Google Earth, and there should be good cover for surveillance with the sound equipment and NVDs. I'll take point, Nate, you and Matt are with me. Kevin, you and Brad will flank the property on the left, Travis and Jake are going right. I'm hoping this will just be recon, but if I get wind of something I don't like, I may call for the strike. You guys will report anything you think looks fishy, and I will make that call with the intel I'm given. Now. When and if I make that call, we're gonna aim for disorientation and soft incapacitation. If you don't have to kill, don't. I don't know how much help this bastard has, but I know it would have taken several to take down Shane. It's not that I think any of them deserve to be spared, but…I don't want us to break up any families. We don't need the weight on our already heavy souls." War had changed them all, and Sy didn't want to make any more widows. "We good?"

Nods of approval from the men made Sy think he was looking at a military bobble head collection. He stifled a smile.

"Alright, lets get armed and ready, then Matt can take us to our chariots."

They were all mostly suited up, black or dark colors were the general uniform. They were ready for whatever might happen. As Nate handed out guns and ammo, the men examined their clips, loaded their guns, and put them in their holsters until needed…they hoped they wouldn't be.

When they were all set, they followed Matt to the huge garage he kept his fleet in.

Although, "garage" didn't quite do the building justice. It was actually an airplane hangar that Matt got for a good price when the local airline went under. He'd made a loft in it with a ramp so there was extra room for smaller vehicles like his town cars. The limos, SUVs, and the stretch Hummer were on the lower level. He had a separate space outside for the two party busses and the RV, protected from the elements by large carports.

Matt went to grab keys from the lock box as the men gathered near the Suburbans. Sy was getting angsty. Moment of truth was here.

"Okay," Matt jingled two sets of keys in his hands. "Who's driving?"

Kevin deferred to Brad without contest, but Jake and Travis were bickering over the question between them.

"Grow up or get married already." Sy chided. "Jake, you got the good intel for us yesterday. You drive."

Travis was mildly crestfallen, but Jake was stoked and he caught the keyring Matt tossed him.

"You wanna drive, Captain?" Matt offered Sy the last set of keys.

"No, Matt. You're driving our group. I'll take shotgun though."

And the seven men got into the vehicles as if they were mounting horses, headed into the sunset.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Over the comms on the way, Sy addressed the team. "Okay, there's a large outbuilding near the road, guys. Pull off the driveway and park behind that structure. Hopefully they'll hide the vehicles from the main house. Bravo and Charlie teams, you let Alpha team get in place before you take your positions."

"Roger that, Captain." Kevin said in the headset.

"We copy." Travis answered for himself and Jake.

The first phase of the mission went perfectly. Sy, Nate, and Matt were in position, and Sy had set up the sound amplifier, aiming it at the house, headphones on. When the other teams were in position, Matt reported to Sy, since he was getting feedback using the earpiece and the headphones for the amp at the same time.

"Bravo and Charlie teams are in place, Captain."

"Great. Sit Rep?"

"All's quiet so far. Wait. Headlights coming up the drive." Each team tried to make themselves as small and low as possible so as not to draw attention to their presence. Sy had been getting nothing but crime show drivel from the TV in the house since he got here.

A petite but curvy brunette got out of the white Honda Civic and stomped into the house.

"Hey babe." Elliott's unmistakable voice rang in Sy's ear. And he was filled to bursting with rage all over again.

"What the fuck, Elliott? I've been trying to call you for hours! What the hell have you been doing?"

"Oh, I was charging my phone in the bedroom. What's going on?"

"That Captain Syverson your little pet was banging? I found out today that he's back in town. Has been for a few days."

"Shit. Shit!!! SHIT!!!"

"Yeah, so…if he isn't already, it won't be long before he starts trying to find her."

"But…how could he? Even if he thought it was me, I have no official ties to this place, or even you!"

"Flattering."

"You know what I mean."

"Whatever, but I'd get rid of her ASAP. This guy is NOT someone you wanna piss off, Elliott."

"I'll bring the guys in. We'll take care of it. Tonight."

Sy cussed in a loud whisper. He wanted to rip Elliott apart with his bare hands. Nate asked him what was wrong, but Sy held up a hand for him to remain quiet because he heard the scumbag inside on the phone.

"Yeah, it's me. Listen, change of plans, we need to do this tonight. Get everyone out here. Yes, immediately. There's a…potential complication. We need to take care of her before it becomes more. Yeah, she's weak, but I'm still gonna wait until you guys get here. She's still got some fight in her. She about took Jackson's eye out yesterday when he was  down there. He's got some wicked scratches on his face. I think he made her regret it, though." Elliott laughed with evil mirth. Sy was furious. He reckoned God Himself might have a time pulling him off that degenerate before he made him unrecognizable as a human man. Once he started punching him, he might not be able to stop.

When Elliott signed off, Sy pulled the earphones down onto his neck. He looked at Matt and Nate.

"He's planning something with Shane and has called in reinforcements. It sounds like he means to take her somewhere else, and it didn't sound like it was gonna be pretty. I think we need to go in now."

"Shit. Okay." Matt responded. Sy put his earpiece in and called on the rest of the team.

"Bravo and Charlie, do you copy?"

"Bravo copies." Kevin reported back.

"Charlie copies. Go ahead, Alpha." Travis cleared.

"Listen, boys. We need to go in, and we need to make it quick. Here’s the situation. We have one male and one female assailant inside the domicile, and an undetermined number of additional combatants en route to reinforce the enemy's line. We have one target. A female prisoner, presumably in the basement, given verbiage used in the communication I intercepted. Alpha team will make our priority extraction. Bravo, you will subdue the male assailant and then maintain sentry position on the lookout for more unfriendlies. Charlie team, you will clear the second level of the house and subdue the female combatant. She is a soldier, so proceed with extreme caution. Once the area is secure, drivers, go and retrieve the vehicles. We are gonna need to get out of here quick, or else things might go tits up. I'm concerned we'll lose the advantage of numbers if we wait too long. Are we clear?"

"Copy that, Alpha leader."

"Roger. On your count, cap."

Sy took a deep breath. Thought to himself "Shane. I'm on my way, baby!" He saw red, then. And called for the charge, out of the darkness, and into the farmhouse. To an uncertain outcome.

Up Next: Chapter 17-Gait Training

#Sand Castle #netflix sand castle #captain syverson #Captain Syverson x OFC #sigh for sy #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #Henry Cavill x ofc

[hp-nextgen-fest]

2020 HP Next Gen Fest Reveals!

The time has finally come for the 2020 @hp-nextgen-fest reveals! Thank you so very much to everyone who has made this fest such an amazing success! We were incredibly impressed with the overwhelming enthusiasm you all have for our favorite Next Gen characters. Everyone who submitted stories and art, and those who read, reviewed and recced: You guys are amazing!! It's been really great seeing everybody's fantastic creations, and we hope you all enjoyed the fest as much as we did! Without further ado, here's a list of all the amazing participants who worked so hard to create fabulous things for this year's fest!

ART

@miakagrewup drew AcciDental Magic [Rose, Hugo, & Grandparents | General] Hermione and Ron are called away for a case and left without their usual child-minder when Molly falls ill. Hermione’s parents step up to keep Hugo and Rose, in spite of Hermione’s warning that the two little ones have some big issues with accidental magic. The story is told comic book style, with illustrations and voice bubbles.

@eleonorapoe drew Woke up married! [James Sirius/Teddy | General] They get well and truly bladdered at Albus's stag do and wake up in bed together with matching wedding bands...

@mad1492 drew Sunday Practice [James Sirius/Teddy | General] Teddy thought that morning practice on Sunday was going to be something he would soon regret, but things may turn more interesting than expected.

@julcheninred drew Introduction [Albus, Severus, & Albus Severus | General] Albus Severus Potter gets to know the men he's named for by asking them about the experiences, memories, and motives that shaped their lives.

@garmrr drew Eyecandy [James Sirius/Teddy | General] After months of extensive Auror training, Teddy comes with the Potters to the beach. James. Cannot. Stop. Staring. At. Teddy. Shirtless.

FIC

@cassiaratheslytherpuff wrote We Keep Loving Anyway [Albus Severus/Scorpius | Explicit | 7.1k] After Albus finds out Scorpius is part vampire he can’t stop thinking about being bitten. He can’t stop thinking about Scorpius in general, but that’s been the case since he was fifteen. At least, when it comes to Scorpius he’s used to not getting what he wants. He’s happy with what he has, or at least, comfortable. That is until he accidentally asks for it, then it all starts to change.

@polly-darton wrote The perks of Veritaserum [James Sirius/Teddy | Explicit | 5.1k] James drank a long-lasting version of Veritaserum and is miserable and Teddy is having the time of his life. That is, until they’re both having the time of their lives.

@gracerene09 wrote Thunderstruck [Charlie/Teddy | Explicit | 2.6k] There’s not a lot for dragon tamers to do when stuck inside during a storm, but looking at this particular new recruit―well, Charlie can’t help but think of a few ways they could pass the time.

Quentin_threepwood wrote Hair Today, Hair Tomorrow [Albus Severus/Scorpius | Mature | 1.7k] Away on a book tour Albus Severus Malfoy grows a very creepy mustache, much to the horror of his still at home husband Scorpius Malfoy.

vitruvian8008 wrote Mission in Nairn [Draco/Lily Luna | Explicit | 7k] Lily Luna Potter is paired with Draco Malfoy for her first Auror Mission. On their last night, she decides to act on the lingering tension that had been building up between them.

@nerdherderette wrote No Other Alpha But You [Albus Severus/James Sirius | Explicit | 7.1k] Scorpius Malfoy has applied to be Albus' heat partner. There's no way James is letting that happen.

@aneiria-writes wrote The Scorpion King [Albus Severus/Scorpius | Explicit | 3.8k] Scorpius Malfoy, AKA the Scorpion King, has ruled Britain ever since his father turned his sights to conquering Europe. With his right-hand man and most trusted advisor, Albus Potter, Scorpius has a life of elegance and power. But he's had enough of the beautiful women that usually grace his bed. Scorpius has decided he wants something else in bed. Something more. Scorpius Malfoy wants Albus Potter.

@motherofmercury wrote Islands of the Upper Air [Lily Luna/Luna | General | 1.5k] Lily Luna has never liked her namesake, or her strange and sometimes absurd way of looking at the world. But a weekend full of ancient rituals and mountain forests is an eye opener, in more ways than one.

@shipperysails-bookofspells wrote Expecto Patronum!! [James Sirius/Teddy | Mature | 45.7k] James Potter had always known exactly what he wanted; to open a pub of his own, maybe travel the world, and live a simple life with the only man he’d ever loved. For years he waited, quietly determined to help Teddy see what could be between them. But just when everything he’d ever dreamed of was finally within his reach, it was ripped away in an instant. With Teddy missing, and presumed dead, James is left to pick up the pieces. John has no idea what he wants. He doesn’t even know who he is. But when he hears a strikingly familiar voice – on an otherwise ordinary day – he sets out to discover everything he can about the man that occupies his dreams. And Harry, well, Harry just wants to put his failures behind him. Until a series of unexpected events forces him to reexamine a case that he’d given up on solving. With the help of an unexpected ally, he just might find the answers he’s been looking for.

@lovealpenglow wrote lily's potter [Lily Luna/Lysander & Lily Luna/Draco | Mature | 8.3k] "But what if I keep it? What’s the contingency plan there?” She took a seat next to Lily. She spoke slowly, as if she was thinking about it for the first time, too. “Well, I mean, you keep your baby. You raise it. You love it. It goes on to do wonderful things because it’s a Potter.” Lily snorted. “It’s a Potter?” “Why not? I mean it’s just as much you as whoever is the father. Why shouldn’t it be a Potter first?”

@micheleblack wrote Snaked a Claim [Albus Severus/Scorpius | Teen | 1.6k] Everyone knew Albus was gay from age five when he would dramatically swoon every time Goncalo Flores the Quidditch player was mentioned. Twenty years later and Harry still tells the tale - much to Al’s embarrassment.

@ladderofyears wrote And I Fell Heavy (Into Your Arms) [James Sirius/Teddy | Explicit | 9.1k] When James Sirius Potter travels to America for three weeks, the turquoise-haired Healer Teddy Lupin misses his boyfriend very much indeed. Luckily, Teddy has (sexy) floo calls, charmed obsidian pendants and hastily made chastity promises to keep him busy. Based on the following prompt: Absence makes the heart grow fonder... Right? Smutty phone!sex? Longing letters? All up to you!

@veelawings wrote Dirty Duelling [Albus Severus/Draco | Explicit | 6.1k] Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want (Or — fucked up Dirty Dancing with wand fights)

@eleonorapoe wrote Albus’ Private Lesson of Sex Education [Albus Severus/James Sirius/Teddy | Explicit | 4.5k] Albus has some doubts about sex. Luckily he has an older brother, who can initiate him. How does this lesson go? James will be the teacher, Albus his good and obedient student and Teddy will be more than happy to serve them as a learning tool. In which a delicious Teddy sandwich is served.

@faeheyjesper wrote Four Reasons [James Sirius/Teddy | General | 8.1k] There were a couple of things James should've considered more seriously before coming back to work at Hogwarts as the new Flying Instructor. His dad being the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor there, for one. The fact that he hadn't really flown since a career-ending injury had put an abrupt end to his Quidditch fame two years ago, for another. His ridiculous, teenage crush on Teddy Lupin, his friend and Hogwarts' newest Charms professor, perhaps most of all.

@26timesbrighter wrote An Interlude [Lavender/Victoire | Explicit | 4.9k] Victoire is supposed to be chasing a serial killer, not shagging her uncle’s dead ex-girlfriend.

@drarryruinedme7 wrote Mint & Apples [Harry/Teddy | Explicit | 4.3k] Teddy Lupin's not-quite-wolf has chosen Harry Potter as his mate, that's all. He hasn't got a crush on his best friend's father, really. He also definitely isn't obsessed with Harry Potter's scent.

crazyparakiss wrote This is Love [Albus Severus/Scorpius | Explicit | 24.8k] Most of Albus’s bad life decisions can be summed up in a word: James. When he got a shitty tattoo in the Fifth Year—done by some bloke in a dirty flat—well, that was James’s idea. When he got picked up by Aurors for doing hallucinogens—James was the one who’d convinced him to do them at a party. That time they stole the flying motorbike Dad gave to Teddy—James was the one who insisted it was a rite of passage to drive it over London at dawn. Neither Dad nor Teddy was impressed with that explanation. Now, here Albus is living another bad choice that was born of James’s influence.

@gaeilgerua wrote The Balance Between Studying and Relaxing [Rose/Teddy | Explicit | 3.7k] Rose has been studying non-stop for her upcoming barrister exam. With Hermione attending Hugo’s Quidditch trials for moral support and Ron away on business, there’s only one person available to keep an eye on her. And Teddy is only too happy to take the role.

@r00wscribbles wrote The last ones to know [Albus Severus/Scorpius | General | 5.2k] Albus and Scorpius have a very close relationship. Everyone can see it. Perhaps they are the last ones to know jus how close they are.

@ohdrarry wrote You've Got A Second Chance (You Could Go Home) [James Sirius/Teddy | Teen | 16k] “What about James?” James, dear Merlin, not James, not again. His boy, his son, the brightest star in the constellation of Harry’s patchwork family, not him. “I think he’s relapsed.” – They tried this when James was nineteen and Teddy was twenty five. It crashed and burned. Teddy ran away to Finland and James... well Teddy's about to find out what happened to James, now that he's back two years later.

@maraudersaffair wrote Falling for You [James Sirius/Scorpius | General | 1.2k] Scorpius didn't care about Quidditch until he saw James Sirius on a broom.

@diligent-thunder wrote Heart-Shaped Ottoman [Draco/Teddy | Explicit | 6.3k] Draco has had interns before, but none so bothersome as Teddy Lupin.

@whenshereads wrote Living With Our Eyes Half Open [James Sirius & Scorpius | Teen | 5.5k] James didn’t mean to get his brother-in-law kidnapped alongside him that morning, but that is definitely what happened.

@shiftylinguini and @gracerene09 wrote Faim [Albus Severus/Scorpius | Explicit | 9.6k]  "So, this is the city of love!" Scorpius declared, adjusting the straps on his backpack. Albus wrinkled his nose. "City of pigeons, more like," he corrected, stepping around another fat, grey bird Or: Scorbus go to France.

@articcat621 wrote Unexpected [Lily Luna/Pansy | Explicit | 1.2k] Draco and Harry's engagement party brings about an unexpected, but not unwelcome, event.

@fidgetyweirdo wrote Remember to Forget [Albus Severus/James Sirius | Mature| 17.5k] The moment they kissed, James and Albus knew that they'd never be able to live without this -- too in love to walk away. Years later, and well into adulthood, the possible repercussions of their relationship feel very real and very scary. Without the strength to break it off, they're left with a single solution: a company that specializes in erasing and altering memories. Now the only thing left to do, is to say goodbye.

#scorbus #jeddy #jalbus #pottercest #jorpius #scames #dralbus #HP Next Generation #hp next gen #harry potter next gen #hpnextgenfest #hp femslash #hp cross gen #masterlist #reveals #2020 fest #mod post

[reyescarlos]

#30 from the Prompt list for Tarlos! Please :3

yesss, thank you for sending in a request! hope you like it!

#30 “I love you, okay? I’ll say it as many times as you need to hear it.”

TK looks up at the sky, watching clouds drift lazily above him. This is truly a perfect day, his mind at ease in a way it always seems to be whenever he’s spending quality time with Carlos, the man who has had his heart for eleven months now. There may be other people around enjoying the warm weather too but everything outside the perimeter of the blanket they’re stretched out on now doesn’t affect him.

A Sunday picnic in the park is just one of the many simple pleasures in life that he’s been relishing in. The simplicity of being in Carlos’ company is a comfort, one that TK never takes for granted.

Carlos’ head is beside his own, his body facing the opposite direction. Carlos sighs heavily and TK turns his head to read his expression. The man looks pensive, brows furrowed slightly, his lips now pursed in thought as his gaze remains on the sky. TK lifts a hand and smooths one of Carlos’ brows with his index finger, coaxing him from his deep thoughts.

“Where’d you go?”

Carlos faces him then, a small smile on his lips though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. TK lowers his hand but Carlos takes a hold of it and clutches it to his chest.

“I’m right here with you.”

TK can’t help but to smile at the gesture, especially at the quickening thump of Carlos’ heart as the man peers over at him. Nothing seems to ground them more than physical touch; holding hands, hugging, a gentle squeeze. These little instances never fail to bring them back to base.

“Can I ask you something?” Carlos says.

There’s a note of hesitancy in the question that makes TK sit upright. Carlos very rarely sounds unsure of himself and if the look on his face now is any indicator, he appears to be truly nervous about whatever it is he intends to ask.

“Of course you can. What’s on your mind?”

Carlos falters for a fraction of a second before pushing through.

“It’s sort of about your relationship with Alex.”

The name comes out with some disdain. TK does his best to mask his surprise though he doesn’t think he’s doing a very good job of it. Carlos never mentions his ex and TK certainly hasn’t had any interest in thinking about the man, let alone bringing him up either.

“Oh? Um, sure. What about it?”

Carlos sighs and sits up too, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“I’m just wondering if that experience has spoiled your views on the subject of marriage.”

TK’s eyes widen and he tries to say something but comes up short. Things have been going perfectly for them since they made their relationship official. This is without a doubt the healthiest and most stable relationship TK has ever been in. To have such a connection to someone, especially on the heels of his last relationship, TK has been pinching himself over his luck.

He and Carlos always talk about loving each other forever but now that TK thinks on it now, they’ve never explicitly talked about it in terms of marriage. It just felt like a given.

He’d love nothing more than to always have this, to be this beside himself with joy and gratitude. In Carlos he’s found true love, one that doesn’t leave him feeling drained and yet still somehow as if he’s not enough. It’s the complete opposite of life with Alex and all the failed relationships that came before.

TK hadn’t been expecting Carlos to have marriage on his mind at this moment and he’s so stunned that he can’t even say anything.

Carlos cringes a bit at his silence and TK could just kick himself for it. But before he can clarify what his silence means, Carlos keeps talking.

“I’m not saying we’re there yet, of course. I know we haven’t even been together for a full year. But I’d be lying if I said I couldn’t easily picture that kind of future with you. And if, hopefully when, the time comes for us to actually reach that stage...I don’t know. I’ve never loved someone this deeply before.

“I don’t know if it’s too soon to even be talking like this. Or if I’m bringing up things you’d rather forget. All I know is that I always want us to be on the same page because I want a happy ending with you, TK, whatever that may look like for us.”

Carlos stops then and shakes his head. “This went a lot smoother in my head,” he jokes nervously. “Sorry for being all over the place.”

TK smiles softly. “You’re doing just fine, babe.”

Seemingly reassured, Carlos pulls in a long breath and nods before continuing.

“He was important to you. You loved him enough to want to make the ultimate commitment. But since things didn’t pan out as you would have hoped,” he says, a polite understatement TK thinks, “I’m curious if you’ve written off the idea of one day marrying someone.”

TK takes notice of the word someone but doesn’t press it. He can already see how vulnerable Carlos feels now even mentioning any of this. He supposes it may just make it easier for Carlos to discuss, phrasing it this way.

“Honestly, no, he hasn’t ruined the concept for me. I’ll admit, when it first happened, I didn’t see a way out of that hopeless feeling. I didn’t think I’d ever be ready to date again. Then you came along and proved me wrong.”

Carlos smiles faintly at this, placing a hand on TK’s knee.

“I’m not ruling anything out. My life has taken turns I never saw coming, some surprises much better than others,” he says, bumping his knee softly against Carlos’ with a smile. “But through it all, all those highs and lows, I’ve grown and I’ve changed.”

“So, you could see it in the cards for us?”

TK touches a hand to Carlos’ face, stroking his cheek.

“I could. Anytime I think about our future, it looks so damn bright to me...all of this potential. You make me the happiest I’ve ever been.”

It’s the honest truth. Each morning he wakes up grateful to have Carlos and on those particular mornings he sees Carlos in the spot beside him, he has to wonder how he’s even the same person that suffered so greatly in New York to be thriving so well in Austin.

“No has ever mattered to me this much. I know we’re in a good place with each other,” Carlos says. “ I don’t ever want to lose you or this feeling. And I know that’s a lot of pressure to put on someone, I know. I just had to put that out there.”

TK frowns. “You don’t ever have to worry about that sort of thing with me. I love you, okay? I’ll say it as many times as you need to hear it. I’ll invent a whole new language just to find another way to tell you how in love with you I am, if that’s what it takes for the message to sink in,” he muses. “I don’t think I really knew what love could actually feel like until this.”

“Even with…,” Carlos trails off but TK can fill in the blanks easily.

“I’ve been realizing that what I had with him wasn’t actually love. Not in its truest form like what I have here with you, anyway. It took my life blowing up to find something real.”

TK looks off for a moment, collecting his thoughts.

“Proposing to him was a last-ditch effort to save a relationship that was so broken. I just couldn’t see it at the time...I didn’t want to, more like it. Things had been off between us for a while and I got this idea going that we just needed to be closer to fix it. I was holding on to something that I should have let go of. Loving him almost cost me everything.”

“It’s a scary thought, imagining what it’d be like if we never met. The love of my life was up in New York that whole time,” Carlos says softly. “It’s scary to think what we could have missed out on. More importantly that the world could have lost you.”

Carlos lets out a shaky breath. “I’m really glad you survived all of that. You’re the strongest person I know and I’m really, really proud of you, TK.”

TK feels his eyes stinging at the sentiment and he blinks back his tears. This isn’t something they talk about often, never mind so openly. But TK is glad for it now. As much as he hates the difficult parts of his past, it’s still a component of his present, something he’ll have to be mindful of his whole life.

But with the support of his loved ones and this man who has become his entire world, he feels confident about his successes on the road ahead.

Carlos looks down, picking at blades of grass at the blanket’s edge.

“I hate even the idea of you ever hurting but it brought you down here to me. Maybe that makes me a bad person, I don’t know. It’s selfish and so wrong to be glad that you got uprooted. I hate the circumstances but I’m glad for the result.”

TK smiles, taking Carlos’ face in his hands. He stares at him for a moment, watching the way the sunlight brings out the honey tones in his brown eyes. It’s enough to make TK melt.

His last few days in New York had been some of the harrowing and challenging days he’d ever faced. Happiness was such an abstract concept, something he didn’t think he’d ever be able to experience again. It made the unexpectedness of finding Carlos just that much more special.

“It’s not selfish and you, Carlos Reyes, are a remarkable person. I’ve never met anyone with a heart like yours. I’m glad for the second chance I got.”

He rests his forehead against Carlos’, kissing the tip of his nose, a hand cradling the nape of his neck.

“Any road that led here would have been worth it. It took a few tries but I know I’ve got it right this time. I want it all with you, Carlos. No doubts about it.”

#tarlos #tk strand #carlos reyes #911 lone star #kimmy writes #4 prompts left! I pinky promise I havent forgotten the others!

[rpbetter]

Sorry if this isn't the place to ask but I'm in need of advice. I have a canon character I truly adore, but I haven't gotten muse or any opportunity to write them at all. My blog is collecting dust and the fandom is kinda dead at this point. Not to mention, it's hard to find compatible writing partners, especially with how picky I can be. I'm honestly considering deactivating the blog (for the nth time), but I don't want to lose the writing I have. I know I could archive, but I hate having blogs just sitting around.

In short, I really want to write the muse/keep the blog but I'm not getting any incentive to do that.

Hello, Anon, it’s totally the place to ask!

I will say, though, that since finding and keeping muse can be flavored rather personally, I can’t promise that what works for me is going to work for you. I’ll even confess that in over two decades, I’ve never personally lost muse. I don’t know if it is due to underlying, neurodiverse style, fixating, or if it is due to keeping myself continually invested in both my muse and writing regardless of what else is going on. (Probably a combination of both, though, and the things I do to keep myself highly in touch with my muse I’ll be recommending.) I’m definitely happy to try to help, however.

That really is a very frustrating spot to be in, wanting to write the muse and keep your blog active, but logging in every day to be reminded of what little reason you have to do so. Since we’re drawn to the characters we are for reasons of personal appeal and writing in itself is a pretty personal form of art, it can also feel depressing on top of the frustration.

However, that’s also the good news, in my opinion, because your incentive here is, or can be, yourself.

You were drawn to this character because you connected with them. They mean something to you, you can relate to them, maybe they have qualities (good or bad) that you wish you could experience. Whatever it is, there’s a reason why you had this draw. Writing is like that as well, there’s a reason why this is a hobby that drew you, that you get enjoyment out of. Again, though all art (it doesn’t matter if it is a hobby) has personal bits of the artist in it, writing is uniquely personal. When you write, you’re exploring thoughts and feelings, giving them life in a character that matters to you. I know, all of that sounds really convoluted and hokey, but it’s true.

And it’s good! That means you always have a reason to write and that you have the tools necessary to find and keep muse without any outside push necessary.

I’d say, firstly, work on getting muse back.

Get back in touch with your muse the next time you feel a particularly strong urge to write. Instead of spending time trying to find people in a silent fandom or forcing yourself to write something you don’t want to, just do some exercises that will help you get back into your muse.

I don’t know what media type your character comes from, but especially if it is something like movie or show that you can have on in the background of what you’re doing, do that. If it’s a comic or a book, think about your favorite scene and read it over first. If you’ve ever made some playlists for writing/your muse, you can always do that instead or as well. The point is to do something passively inspiring while you actively create. Now, that creating...

You want to do something that requires you to think about your muse so you can get in touch with them, not something that is going to make you feel overwhelmed and shut down. So, maybe don’t pick writing prompts for this - you can work up to that. Try out headcanon and character development memes and other question lists instead for right now. Things you can scroll down a list of, find questions that jump out as interesting (or even simply answerable to you at this point, you’re jump-starting a dead battery, it’s alright) and answer them. You can also do something as simple as write down what you like best about the character or their story, or put down the basics of filling in missing information that has always bugged you.

The beauty of this is that it is all on your own terms, your only objective here is to answer what you want, as much as you want. You can stop any time, but you can also answer a single question for three hours, making it eight pages long if the inspiration strikes you. It’s only about recharging your inspiration and establishing a connection with your character again. (This is also going to help you with getting back into writing, or approaching it for the first time, with a more internalized focus of interest.)

When you feel like you’ve done that, you can branch out on these exercises more. Answer the memes more in-depth, answer more of them/the ones you don’t have immediate answers for. You can also try writing out scenes from the character’s canon from their perspective, if it wasn’t already so, adding in their thoughts and feelings, or changing the scene in some ways that would be interesting to write out. This is the point where it’s a good idea to try a writing prompt or two, as well! Take the prompt as a sort of starter sentence from a mutual, you’ve got the situation, fill in with your muse.

Write when you feel like writing. The RPC is great at saying this when it comes to muns not wanting to write, but kind of ignores the other side of the equation. The side where you want to write, have the inspiration and muse to do so, but it might not be the best time. As in, you’re not home/wherever you usually write, with whatever device you tend to write on accessible. No, you’re not going to be able to get as much done, but you can write without the usual situation and device regardless. You can write a scene or ideas down using your phone or tablet, or go old school and use a notebook. If you’re at work and your job isn’t applicable to being able to get down a single sentence, that still doesn’t mean you have to wait 8+ hours to get home; while you’re taking your break, write a little bit. It is a break, and writing is your hobby, it isn’t work. It’s good to do things you enjoy on breaks, and far more fulfilling to have also accomplished something you happen to enjoy.

Not writing when you have the drive to do, putting it off and holding it in until “the perfect moment,” is a great way to lose your inspiration and never actually have that moment. If you feel like doing it, that means it is the perfect moment. Life is restricting, don’t impose even more restrictions on yourself by having to be at home, in a specific spot, with a specific device, at a specific time, on a specific day. Was that annoying repetition? You’re right, it was. And that’s how your creative mind processes all the crap piled onto it that doesn’t allow for creativity.

Now, the other problem, the fandom situation.

There isn’t anything you can do about that, to be absolutely honest. I’m not going to blow smoke and tell you to be positive, wait it out, maybe the fandom will spring to life again. You know, maybe it will...but you could be waiting literal decades for that to happen. Not cool. Please, take my word for that, it’s personal experience that it blows even more than you imagine it will.

What you can do is take the matter into your own hands in other ways; putting yourself out there with more availability in multiple ways.

Are you a single-fandom blog, or are you crossover friendly? If you’re not crossover friendly, try to think of a single, relatively popular fandom that you enjoy. Don’t look at it like a hassle, but rather, just another creative exercise. A serious pitfall of creating alternate universe versions of muses is to take the simplest route, merely picking something you want from that other universe and applying it to your muse with no relevant changes that would naturally occur from it. It isn’t just reductive as hell, it’s not remotely creative, it’s like sticking a sticker on your muse’s forehead and saying that’s a whole different muse. It’s neither attractive to potential partners nor going to sustain your own interest for long. You want this to be a passionate investment on your own end, for yourself.

What not to do:

Let’s say the fandom you picked to do crossovers with is based around magic, the main characters are witches, and they are divided into factions based on how their magical talents display and develop. Not only do you decide to make your muse a witch, you pick the most badass faction. It’s the one full of assassins and action and (metaphorically or literally) sex appeal. Well, that’s also going to be the most popular faction in the fandom. That means there will not only be plenty of big name canons there but also that there’s going to be a plethora of OCs designed just for this universe...and other crossovers from other currently active fandoms.

While that might sound like it’s great for maximizing interaction chances, it’s really not when you’re just starting somewhere new with a character from another fandom that might not be known or liked. It can also take a minute in another fandom’s RPC to identify where the good partners are. Every now and then, it is the most popular and over-populous era/faction/etc., but most of the time, it isn’t. People who write with considerable dedication and talent fairly rarely are in the popular kids club even in their fandom choices. By inserting yourself into that area, you might be bypassing (and being bypassed) by better partners on the assumption that their characters are simply going to bore you to death since they’re not within the scope of your focal point.

It’s not a situation of not being allowed to be picky, you not only have that right regardless of your situation, you also should be. This is not a “beggars can’t be choosers” situation, you’re not beholden to anyone on the basis of being new and bored. However, some of my best, and longest lasting, writing partners over all 23 years I’ve been RPing didn’t/don’t fit with all the exact surface details that automatically draw my interest. It is as true within my own fandom as it is in dealing with crossovers. Opposites (with enough similarities) really do attract and work out well together!

Don’t judge and write people off for anything that isn’t an issue of compatibility with your muse, your writing, or yourself. Decline someone because they do one line only and you are novella, they write topics that are upsetting to you, you can see no way your muse and theirs can interact without instant murder, or because you cannot stand writing with someone who is pulling 90% aesthetics and purple prose. Not because their muse is a witch who uses life-based magic, loves nature, is a healer, and into their health...while your muse in this AU is all about the death, only appreciates an urban environment and is grossed out by animals, kills as an occupation, lives on cheeseburgers and caffeine. You see what I’m saying? Don’t limit yourself unnecessarily!

What to do:

Did you consider if, in that hypothetical idea of a fandom, your muse based on their purely canon self would even fit into that faction? Or is it just something you wanted to see? If you didn’t consider this, or it was the latter, fix that. That’s bad.

If you’re not absolutely dead set on that and only that, think about what really does fit the muse better. Maybe, they would be better as a healer, someone who messes with the very fabric of reality, or someone who manipulates natural elements at will. Then again, they might not even be a witch. They could be more mundane in terms of power, but more accurate and interesting as a normal, human (or whatever). They could even be greatly opposed to the use of magic and witches. Use your muse’s original canon as a base to decide these things.

If you are absolutely dead set on it, though, you have a lot of work to do making the character into what amounts to a markedly different one while still retaining some recognizable aspects of themselves. Consider what events, in this new universe of fandom, might have happened to alter the character thus. Keep in mind that even small changes can have great consequences in a character’s development, and you might need to think about the myriad ways in which that can display, how it changes still more things for this character.

While that job becomes so much more intense when you haven’t planned out a path that matches your muse’s canon characterization at all, it is still an important part of constructing an AU, of any kind, in general. Ask yourself what experiences led to the character you know as you already know them (including your own headcanons, yes). Then, find similar possible experiences within your new fandom verse that can have the same effect. Again, though, it’s important to understand that you are never going to have an identical set of experiences, so you need to explore relevant changes still.

When you do this, you’re allowing your muse to more seamlessly fit into this other universe in a fleshed out, interesting way. Interesting both new partners and yourself.

Okay, next obnoxious question from me! Do you have multiple verses, or are you single-verse?

Whether you are already exploring new fandoms or not, by creating a variety of verses for others to interact with, you’re increasing your chances for interest and activity. When you have a verse from a different fandom you can then, additionally, advertise your presence in both that fandom’s tags when you do a promo or applicable open starter and on active RPer lists for that fandom.

Every popular fandom has such lists. You can get on them by messaging/sending an ask to the blog or by reblogging their post to be added, following the directions. I haven’t seen one yet that doesn’t allow for crossovers. You simply have to tag it as stated in the post, such as “your canon’s name here - original fandom name - crossover.” By tagging your open starter or promo as “-insert fandom here- rp” and “-fandom here- open starter” you allow people in that fandom to find you to interact. Either way is excellent for getting started in totally new places with a character others might be unfamiliar with.

Please remember that if you tag a promo as “promo,” it’ll not show up in searches off of your blog. You know, where it actually needs to be searched. Thanks, tumblr, for being janky! Being more specific as to the fandom and character will help others actually find you. Don’t shoot yourself in the foot by tagging it as “promo.”

Make your verses accessible on your blog itself, in the nature of those verses, and how you set up your page or post that lists them.

Don’t put any page behind an impossible or complicated aesthetic. You really shouldn’t anyway, but when you’re needing interactions, it’s actively hurting your chances. Many people don’t want to have to play a game with your theme, it’s a turn off. Try a pinned post that lists all of your links to important pages like rules, verses, and bio instead. It means that, even from the dash, that information can quickly be found while other muns are first interested, and also that anyone who might be using the app can access it more expediently. (I’m genuinely not a fan or big supporter of doing google docs for rules, verses, bios, etc., as it forces people off site, so I can’t personally say, in good conscious and honesty, that I’d recommend it, but you do you!) You want to keep things quickly accessible is the idea here; when people are interested, you want to catch them right then and there before they have a chance to forget and lose your blog.

As to the nature of the verses themselves, give people real options. Don’t have 20 verses that all read same way. Same themes, plot possibilities, and backstories, or incredibly similar names. Have a diverse list of verses that can act as foundations for a variety of different muns. As many fandoms as you can reasonably have a good portrayal of, and different types of fandoms; not all the same genre (all fantasy, all horror, all scifi). Verses where your muse has substantially different goals, occupations, and other life situations that will involve another muse; don’t make your muse A Warrior™ in every verse, you can keep plenty of those aspects without being that literal. People love “modern” verses set in our own universe and, usually, in our own era. That doesn’t mean you have to go stereotypical or otherwise bore yourself by doing the standard “high school/college verse,” for instance. You don’t even have to designate that sort of thing, let alone make it the focus; simply create the verse by considering what your character really would be like if they existed within your reality.

As a final note on verses as pertains to this point, when you’re doing crossover verses, it’s alright to do some verses where your muse from their own canon existence somehow ends up teleported or whatever to another fandom’s reality, or even our own. Just don’t make every verse like this, it puts the onus of a great deal of creativity and effort onto the other mun by default; your muse has cluelessly dropped into the universe, and while it is high drama time for you, the other mun has to babysit, educate, deal with fallout, etc.

On making the list of your verses accessible, you want to focus on ease of browsing and not being overwhelming. People tend to look through a verse page and not read every verse listed, rather, they look at the titles and breakdowns to see if it is of interest, then read it. Don’t try to make everyone read them all, it isn’t going to happen, and shouldn’t change your effort any as the right people are going to find the verses that interest them...if you make it clear and easy enough.

Have a basic format you stick to, firstly. I do it this way: small verse banner, title of verse (linked to its overall tag so that muns can look through the tag at headcanons, aesthetics, pictures of the FC, and threads), muse age/age range, small blurb, possible triggers found uniquely or just heavily within this verse. In that order, one following the other in a simple, but pleasing way. Below that, is a more in depth breakdown of the “verse canon.” Sometimes, that is giving a brief rehashing of canon itself and anywhere my muse differs, be it in this verse only or overall, ending with where my muse is in this verse. Not literally where. I mean their present occupation, emotional and general state in life. At the very end, I provide any other relevant links and/or an expansion on the triggers mentioned at the top of the verse description if they’re that serious/recurrent so that muns can decide this isn’t the verse for them. I happen to have a potentially triggering muse, triggering verses, and writing triggering topics, though. That’s not something everyone needs to do.

Secondly, group your verses in a sensible way. I do my short list of default verses first. (And, I do mean short, you don’t want this be any more than four or five, it is overwhelming right out of the gate.) For me, that is two default verses of canon at different points on the timeline, one default AU that is a bit of a reversal of canon, and one default “modern” verse. Then, I list the verses that are in line with the altered canon one, just different possibilities, changes, points in history. After that, the different “modern” verse options. Then, verses for other fandoms, the crossover verses. And so on. This way, a potential partner can find the type of verse that might appeal to them and have an easier time picking from those possibilities and getting ideas.

Lastly, don’t be so succinct that you give too little information and underwhelm, but also don’t be so excessive that it takes all of the mystery of interaction away and overwhelms someone. It can be a difficult balance to strike, and some verses require more information than others, just experiment a bit. Additionally, it’s fine to link to pertinent information for the other mun to view aside from this, but don’t just link people to a fandom wiki as your “description/bio.” That isn’t giving information on how you write this muse, approach this fandom, or what another mun can otherwise expect. Keeping your descriptions interesting is important, you’re not giving a boring lecture, you’re trying to inform someone while making them hyped for their choices. It’s more interesting, and informative, to read if you do them with an ear to the “tone” of your muse in that verse. Is it a sad one? Sound that way. These can, indeed, function as snippets of your writing, so be sure you are writing them with the same care you should be giving your replies; spellcheck, good word flow and use, mind the grammar, and read over what you’ve written for common, easy mistakes.

Again, by giving a genuine variety of verses to choose from, you’re allowing for a greater reach in potential partners. Everyone from those still in your original fandom to those in new ones, all the way to fandomless muses will be able to interact with you this way.

Finally, in regards to what you can change or do when you’re in a dead fandom and seeking interactions; make sure you are increasing your reach by using proper tags, being honest about what and how you write, and don’t wait for others to stumble across you.

When you use tags properly, you’re increasing your chances of being seen at all. Every time you post something at all applicable on your blog, tag it with relevant things. Tag as described above with whatever fandom it is and “RP,” your character’s name, “open RP,” character name and RP, indie RP, open starter, and so on. Be sure you are optimizing your tags by placing the most relevant to finding you in the first four, those are what show up in site-wide searches only. Anything after that isn’t going to appear in a search across all tumblr.

By tagging your character’s name, as a canon, you should know that you are likely to get personal blog interaction. I’m pretty against being nasty to personal blogs for no reason, as I don’t appreciate personal and fandom blogs being shitty to me for the sole reason that I am an RPer. Please, use clear, short, attention getting directions for them. If you want no interactions with them, put right in the description of your blog “RP blog, does not interact with personal blogs.” When you say things like, “personals dni,” or “personals blocked,” you’re not doing anyone any favors. Personal blogs often don’t even know what the hell a personal blog even is! They do not denote themselves this way, to a personal blog, they’re just a blog. By designating first that you are an RP blog, you’re making it clearer that they’re the personal; they’re obviously not an RP blog, so that must make them a personal. Follow this up in a pinned post, right on top. Give a note to personal blogs that describes them as “any blog that isn’t an RP blog” first, then either tell them in brief what they can and can’t do or that you don’t interact and will block.

I don’t recommend taking your blog off of being findable, however. That’s alright once you have the RP activity you are looking for, but until then, it’s working against you. Other RP blogs cannot easily find you either, they will only find you if you’re on a list or appear in their recommended blogs, if you interact with a mutual, or are recommended by a mutual. You’re not just lessening your chances of personal blogs finding you, so if you have that turned off, turn it back on.

Don’t entirely rely on others finding you regardless, though. You can’t be 100% passive when you have no interactions, and by relying solely on serendipity you’re far less likely to get them. I know that everyone here is terminally shy, but seriously, you have to do more than put your silent will into the universe that someone perfect find you. You have to make this happen. Once you get a few people, you can afford to be more passive. Not only do you have some people to write with, you will be more visible to their mutuals, and more established as a presence. I’m not saying this is easy, or that it will become easy, not awkward or stressful, if you have a legitimate issue behind the shyness. Just that it is the only way to really proceed, and I believe you can do it!

So, go looking for interesting blogs. Be crossover and OC friendly (again, this doesn’t mean “accept everyone,” there are valid reasons for not accepting people you won’t work out with that have nothing to do with their fandom or being an OC), and search those fandom’s RPCs, following any blogs you think you might work out with upon reading their rules and other pages. Search for fandomless OCs and do the same thing. Fandomless OCs aren’t just floating around in the ether, they just weren’t created expressly for a particular fandom and within its confines. What is excellent about that is their ability to have a wide variety of verses and many possibilities to fit into any fandom or verse. So, don’t count them out solely on the basis of being an OC and fandomless. It doesn’t mean what people seem to think it does!

Do not stop at having followed 50 blogs. I mean, other than that you probably should stop following people for a bit. That you should do, as you need to be building writing relationships here, not following so many people that you cannot get to them. Don’t just stop at the follow, though. Since you’ve read their rules and information like a good RP partner, you should have some idea of what their interests are and where they align with yours, as well as how they prefer to be approached, if they accept memes right away to start, need plotting, have a rules password. When they’ve followed you back, proceed with interaction!

Ask if they’d like to plot when they have time, you’re really looking forward to writing with them. But...have some idea of a plot, please. It is a serious turn off to have someone message you wanting to plot, only to reply and get “lol I don’t have any ideas, anything works for me/whatever you want to do.” That isn’t plotting, it’s one party coming up with ideas and constructing a plot while they’re being told “I’m fine with anything.” That may be true, but it’s disheartening and a red flag for many people. If you genuinely can’t come up with anything, pick verses that match up well and suggest doing something within them.

“When you have the time, would you be interested in discussing writing? I was looking at your verses, and I think your verse -name- and mine, -verse name-, would mesh well.” Is a good way to start. Once you have a discussion flowing about the verses meshing and the muses, it’s typically easy to organically develop some plot ideas to go off of.

If both you and the other mun are alright with plot-free interaction and memes, you can send a meme any time. If you can’t find any memes on their blog, look for a wishlist or navigation page that shows you the tags for memes/wishlist. Still can’t find it? Ask them if they’ve got a wishlist or meme tag you can look through.

Additionally, if open starters are a thing you both do and are alright with, find some of theirs and respond. Post your own, tag it appropriately to be found in general and on your blog, and reblog it once or twice. Don’t excessively reblog it, and don’t get upset on the dash if no one interacts with it or any memes you reblog. Both are demanding to outright guilting, and not a good way to get partners. Just provide them with the ability to easily interact by making the posts available in the first place and by making them findable on your blog search and navigation.

Provide something for potential partners to see. Since you said you already do have writing, that’s great! That’s content on your blog that your partners can view. However, since you’re also having the issues you’ve stated, it’s likely that you haven’t many new posts. Show that you are active, interested in being here, and how you write your muse (and in general) by posting some newer content. For original content, do a headcanon or some meta, or post about new verses you are adding, the changes on your blog, a promo. For reblogs, things pertaining to your muse like canon imagery, fanart, quotes from canon or that generally express your muse, and aesthetics relevant to your muse are all excellent things to queue.

Use that queue. Not only do very few people appreciate having dash spam of similar content for the comparatively short time you might be around, but also, running these things on a queue means you spread that out for maximum view. While there are hours of heavier activity, you’ll have mutuals who are on at unusual hours due to their life and preferences or their timezone. This way, you’re not appearing inactive, if not outright invisible, to those mutuals. It’s not a bad idea to use a queue tag so that people know if they interact with a post that’s been queued, you might be here to quickly respond.

Ultimately, to fix your fandom and lacking partners problem, you just need to up your availability and reach beyond that fandom alone. Be proactive in following and approaching, decline blogs based on not working out only, utilize tags and fandom RPer lists, have everything on your blog easy to follow and not overwhelming, and have your verses meet as wide of a range of people as possible while also not being overwhelming.

Try updating your promo, as well, by the way. They’re not dead, they just really tanked when people kept making them based solely on aesthetic principle instead of being at all informative about the muse. They do seem to be coming back, so it’s a thing to consider.

Yes, make it visually appealing, it will draw people to reading it. No, do not just use a song lyric or quote with words highlighted linking your rules, verses, bio. Tell people basic info like the age of your muse and yourself, if you are multiverse and multiship, your muse’s canon verse and a couple of big interest verses of other major fandoms or themes that tend to be of interest to people, and what kind of RP you write - one line/para/multipara/novella. Absolutely give links to rules, verses, bio, and either memes, wishlist, or open starters, but give them just like that; make it very clear what this link is to. Put a very short statement of interest on there denoting that you’re expanding to new fandoms and looking for writing partners.

Do not sound desperate, demanding, or devaluing of yourself. Don’t say shit like “because my fandom is dead,” “trying this before I give up and delete my blog,” or “I suck at interaction/writing/ooc interaction/being a person but welp giving it a try, so follow and hit that heart.” (Conversely, calling yourself derogatory things and implying that your partners are too, such as the “we’re all just losers here” shit.) All of the above are not attractive, and they’re not even surprising enough to stand out anymore. It’s another reason to scroll right by that promo because nothing at all was different or of interest.

And as a wrap-up/rehash of the first topic, getting muse back: try starting over at the beginning by approaching the media involving your muse that has really stuck with you emotionally over the years, and exploring and developing your muse again.

Don’t tell yourself you can only write, for example, at home, on the laptop, after 7pm, and with a pop toy staring at you. The best thing about writing, as opposed to so many other hobbies, is that you can do it anywhere! So, do that. Do it any time you both feel the inspiration to do so and aren’t going to get fired or expelled for it. This isn’t work, it’s something enjoyable that does take effort (like literally all creative activities and skills do), but approaching it as though you need to follow novel writing advice from someone who has never published anything of note and isn’t you on the internet, with strict rules for success makes it feel that way. So does being frustrated with a dead fandom, no interaction. It’s disheartening, feels as annoying and fruitless as work often does. You probably need to break out of that mindset, and you can only do it by beginning to allow yourself to be creative on your own terms, entirely for yourself.

Do write simple things at first that you are inspired to do (you can’t get a scene out of your head, or a bit of dialogue), and/or headcanon/character development memes and question lists. Build from there as you get back in touch with your muse, writing things primarily or entirely for yourself still. Expanding on headcanons, doing some meta, or maybe writing out a missing piece of canon or what you’d be interested in seeing happen in canon if some event was altered.

Doing this sort of thing, you are getting in touch with your muse again and back into the real spirit of writing creatively, simultaneously.

Whatever you find most inspiring, do it. If it’s watching the movie or show again, do that, have it on while you write or simply think on the character’s actions, thoughts, and emotions during those scenes. If it’s reading the material again, do that, and read snippets of personal importance before you write. Maybe it’s some past playlists you can have on while writing, or even while you’re cleaning, walking the dog, driving or riding somewhere. It could even be your own previous writing! Go ahead and re-read that, it sounds like you still appreciate it, and that’s truly promising. If you find that you’re horrified by some of the things you’ve written in the more distant past, hey...that’s not just valid as hell, it’s natural. You know what else it is? An inspiration. You can clearly see that you could do better, that means you now know how to do better and are ready to do so. Validate yourself, prove it to yourself by rewriting or fixing something.

Don’t delete the blog or archive it. It is unpleasant to have a dead blog around, but don’t keep it dead. Use the same blog and simply transition it into wider things that will net you more partners and the interactions you deserve.

Look, even if you weren’t the most popular blog in your fandom before it went quiet, you really appreciated the blog, muse, and writing you were doing. You’ve defined that it wasn’t something you did to cause this situation, you just had the shit luck we all run into eventually of being in a fandom that ran out of material or interest. People are really fickle, so by taking a wider approach and fixing on the writing and muse instead of fandom now, you’re stopping this from repeating. Seriously, on a long enough timeline, every fandom dies or goes into hibernation. If you make a whole new blog with a different muse, it is going to happen again eventually.

So, don’t feel like you’re ridiculously clinging to the past and need to move on, you’re just sticking to something and can continue to stick to it through the next five fandom deaths. Just because it is the most popular thing to do to drop muses, constantly add new ones, and have this attitude that you can “blog refresh” your way out of recurrent, and inherent, problem doesn’t mean it is actually the right thing to do. It’s not even the most sensible, and certainly not the best thing to do with anything you’ve spent time and effort on.

That’s your incentive; yourself, the time and care you’ve put in, and your continued interest in writing and the muse. You’ll find good people, and bluntly, everyone else can fuck right off when you’re incentivized by yourself. It becomes a self-fulfilling activity at that point, I swear, and it feels really nice.

Just get back in touch with your muse and writing itself so that you can begin to expand and start interacting again!

#rp advice #rp problems #rp help #muse loss #dead fandoms #rp better #Anon E. Mous #answered

[sugarcomatosed]

i love your stories so much!! and was wondering if you can give some writing tips perhaps? 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

Breaking this up into sections for you + putting it under a cut cause I went overboard. 😅

General Writing Tips

These work for both academic and creative writing.

Make an outline.

It doesn't have to be a formal one, but having at least a general idea of the scenes you want to include is helpful. If I know my fic is going to be a longer one (like Don't Hesitate was and my current WIP is), I break down the larger story beats i want to hit on a piece of paper or my iPad.

It's good to know what you're planning to do, in a any piece I usually have a single specific scene I want to do and depending on what it is, I might either just do the scene I want to or turn into something longer.

Draft, draft, draft.

I cannot stress the importance of going through and reviewing your work. This is a big part of any sort of writing.

Your first idea isn't always your best idea. As you work on a piece you might find your original idea is holding you back, focus shifts! Don't be afraid to let your work change as you go. It's not always easy to let go of your original idea but if you find it's not working, you have to let it change. Sections will need to be rewritten, things have to be readjusted to fit with later sections. Reread for clarity while you're drafting and look to see if this makes sense to you, or reads well to you. If you can't follow it and you wrote it, chances are your reader can't either. Did you use the same phrase again and again? Find and search it on your doc to double check.

Sometimes you have to cut things you really like because they just don't contribute to the fic anymore. Save those bits and use them somewhere else!In a lot of my longer pieces I will write a paragraph, realize that's not where it should go and cut/paste it into another part of the doc because the pacing/scene doesn't make sense where I had it originally, but it works somewhere else.

If you're stuck, skip around, come back and then stitch the bits you have written together.

Don't Focus on a Word Count

This might be controversial, but I'm of the opinion just because something is longer does not make it better. Some works are short, and that's okay! I very rarely try to aim for a specific count of words unless it's for a prompt exchange or a personal challenge. I write till I feel the piece is done. Some stories require more words, some require less.

Don't Hesitate is a great example of this again, because all I wanted to do was a bittersweet first kiss fic, but jumping write into the kiss wouldn't get the full effect I wanted. Meanwhile, with Old Habits all I wanted to do was write dumb comedic kisses, we didn't need a 2k preamble.

Get Someone You Trust to Edit

My go to editor for the past six years or so is one of my good friends. She has edited everything from college papers to my fics for me before I post them to read for clarity, find any funky phrases or misspelled words I missed, and I do the same for her when she asks! A fresh set of eyes makes a world of a difference. Find someone to trade fics with or ask a friend! They might have good suggestions you never thought of, or be able to tell what you were going for when you don't even know yourself.

I also rely on my friends a lot to brainstorm and talk my ideas out before I start because it helps me think and figure out what I need. It's super common for me to text someone and say "im gonna spitball at you, that okay?" and then spend twenty minutes chatting through my ideas.

Have Reference Material

For my 13sar fics, I regularly go back and review/screenshot videos of the dialogue to make sure I am staying consistent with story events, character nuance and small details. You don't have to go crazy, but it is really helpful to have your source material to go back to and check yourself against. In non creative writing I always had a pile of papers highlighted with my own notes on the margins.

Take Breaks/Pace Yourself

Know your own limits, and if you are working and working on something and it's not coming out leave it alone and come back to it. I'm really bad at this personally because when I get an idea in my head I want to see it through but sometimes you gotta step back! It's not healthy to keep working on things and overwork yourself. Stretch, get up go for a walk.

Write What You Want to Write

Don't focus on what people want to read. Focus on what you like. Find a topic, a scene, anything that you are passionate about and the rest will follow. The only time I write fic for other people is when I am writing for a friend. Even prompt requests I only take open ended ones, if I am not interested in writing it it's not gonna happen. I know it's super hard and I get really anxious sometimes about letting people down now, or worrying people won't like something but then I step back and remind myself this is a hobby and I'm doing it for fun.

Play to Your Strengths

You shouldn't try to write like me, you should try to write like yourself. Find what skills you have and use them to your advantage!

I can't give you a step by step list to write like me, because nobody in the world has my background! We're all unique. Everything I've listed so far I know because I'm not a beginner anymore! I'm in my twenties and have come from a strong academic writing background.

I took on an intensive course load in high school, and then went onto college for a sociology degree. I very rarely had test based finals and at the end of each semester would have five 10-15 page papers to submit. Straight up some of my skills come from having read and studied the works of anthropologist Clifford Geertz. I am not saying you should read anthropology/sociology texts. Unless you like that sort of thing lol

I also have 6+ years of theater experience (acting & directing), I use this all the time for my writing. When I think about a scene, I think about how I would work through it as an actor, how the character would move, and how would things read to an audience. The GOTE ("Goal, Obstacle, Tactics, and Expectation") method of acting by Robert Cohen is really useful hear if you want a more technical breakdown of what I mean by that.

This leads to a lot of what we called "business" in acting, doing small tiny things while you talk or move around on stage to give the sense you're a real human. I don't have to think or try on these sort of things because they're in my skill set already!

Things I do Personally

As in, these are not transferable skills this is just the stuff I do while working on projects.

Find a Vibe™️

I come into any fic with usually a goal I want to hit, a line of dialogue or something I want to capture. Just like, the general idea of a feeling a song even if the lyrics don't match up. Make a mood-board, a playlist, just find something you wanna do. It's less about the actual words on the page and what you're aiming to do.

Look to things that inspire you

Don't Hesitate got written because I wanted to write a fic that captured the same vibe as a scene in Macross Frontier, where two characters have a bittersweet kiss before the final battle and that scene still has me fucked up six years after watching it.

My current WIP is doing the same thing but with the song All I've Ever Known from Hadestown. Two characters working through loneliness, the sudden feeling of falling in love and the frustration that feeling can bring on sometime.

I don't plagiarize them word for word, but these are scenes that inspire me! I also patchwork quilt ideas together. Using Don't Hesitate again, I also ended up pulling from a bunch of shoujo anime, Toradora, Sailor Moon, Yona of the Dawn, Princess Tutu...specific scenes I enjoy to blend and create something new.

Goof Off While You Write

I name my documents stupid things, I write dumb placeholder dialogue or vague sentiments like "insert better word here", I make memes when I'm struggling and roast myself and my predictable tastes.

I spent twenty minutes texting a friend Juro's name with different letters spelt out and then the "fuck your chickenstrips" vine saying it was Juro during destruction. Just have fun with it!

Listen to J-POP On Loop for Hours at a Time

i am not kidding I do this all the time. Perfume, AKB48, anime idol osts, Sailor Moon's OPs/ED, vocaloid songs. I like technopop and Japanese is good because it usually doesn't distract my brain since I only know random phrases, but still know what the meaning og the song is.

I love music, it helps me vibe out.

Thank you so much for enjoying my work ;o;

I hope this is useful to you in some way! I'm so sorry it's so long winded but I am overly thorough and love to teach people ;w;

#sugar speaks #sugar writes #okay to reblog

[forasecondtherewedwon]

Unhallowed Arts

Threesome: Peter Parker x Michelle Jones x Brad Davis Rating: E Word Count: 11,077

This is a submission for Thotumn, organized by @spideysmjs!!! Today’s prompt: Threesome (but this fic also includes previous prompts: Semi-Public, Face-Sitting, and “Don’t Be Gentle”).

Summary: “What’s the compromise between abruptly shutting this down (her sex drive weeps) and getting in bed with a guy who will make the experience too emotionally intense?

'Have you ever had a threesome?’ Michelle blurts.

'…What? No.’

‘Neither have I. But I’ve been, um, wanting to try it.’

Have you? she demands of herself, wiping a damp palm on her jeans.

‘You, me, and someone else?’ Brad’s eyebrows are very high on his forehead. ‘That’s a lot of bodies, uh, coming together.’”

Brad Davis has a Mary Shelley mug. He used to drink from it—coffee he brought to work in a thermos from home, which smelled so delicious that Michelle would go out of her way to inhale it over his shoulder, pretending to let him show her something on his monitor—until the mug cracked and he switched to using it to house typical office junk. She asked him about the mug exactly once, fearing it was bait to intrigue a certain kind of person, to make him seem like a certain kind of person himself. But he surprised her. Turns out he’s not a douche (or at least not a douche who lures women in with female authors of historical significance), just a genuine Shelley fan.

He’s not many things Michelle initially assumed him to be, striking them off a mental list over the months they’ve worked together: not a guy who takes the last free seat at the table during a team meeting, not a guy who checks out his own reflection on his black phone screen, not a guy who wears sturdy hiking boots for show. When they troop out to conduct surveys on behalf of the conservation initiative they work for, Brad scrambles up the side of eroding banks and squelches into marshland until water soaks his socks and surface residue clings to his leg hair.

Brad’s not pushy, though she’s well aware that he’s been watching her as long as she’s been watching him.

Early on into them working together, she fell into his arms. Literally fell. The team encouraged Michelle to wait for the second truck, the one bringing the ladder, but she got stubborn and climbed the tree to check the bat box the old-fashioned way. Unfortunately, some of the branches were dead and hollow inside, but Brad caught her when she dropped eight feet. And then flirted with her before she could catch her breath. She had some less friendly words for him in return. The first time he surprised her was when he immediately respected her clear boundaries and backed off. They’ve learned to work easily with each other and drink together in the same booth when people from the initiative hit the bar—on evenings they don’t smell too much like they spent the day in Mother Nature’s armpit. They’re friendly, could almost be friends, except that she’s incredibly conscious of his persistent attraction to her, even if he doesn’t do anything about it because he’s not a douche. It’s a knowledge Michelle simply lives with.

But there have been an awful lot of evenings lately of smelling like whatever swamp she waded into during the day, of either going straight home to shower the stench away (thank fuck for rent with utilities included), or hunching over her laptop as she tries to get a grant application finished before a midnight submission deadline. Nobody she works with is holding their breath for the day the government decides it should just give them the money to protect local habitats without making them prove themselves over and over and compete against other worthy environmental projects for the funds. So, Michelle works, and she wades, and she loses many of the evenings she could be out getting laid.

On a regular they-better-pay-us-for-the-overtime evening and not a marshy/swampy/boggy one, she’s comfortably stretched out in a booth with Brad across the table. Two of their colleagues were here a minute ago, but they got up to… go to the bathroom? Grab another round? That’s a little hazy, but Michelle can feel something becoming clearer to her. Observing her own hand as she twirls the base of her latest empty across the tabletop, she asks a question.

“You like Mary Shelley, right?”

Brad, glassy-eyed but still trying to look professional with the way he has his hands folded on the surface in front of him, smiles at her. She can feel it.

“Yes. Her creativity was astounding. If I were in the running for the Miss Universe pageant—”

Michelle jerks her chin back and looks up to make a face at him.

“—and they asked me what historical figure I would most like to have dinner with, I would say Mary Shelley. Hands down.”

“Cool story, bro. Hey, Brad?”

“Mhmm.”

She can tell by his drifting gaze and expression of introspection that he’s planning out his pageant answers.

“Do you still want to sleep with me?”

That focuses his attention. He laughs uncomfortably.

“Why… why would you think that?”

“Oh, so, what’s your limit?” Michelle presses, slightly snide with the alcohol in her bloodstream. “You’re not interested in going past holding hands? Making out for no more than five minutes? Because you obviously want something,” she rambles on. “You look at me, I know you do.”

“This isn’t just an idle question, is it?” Brad asks.

He leans forward to look at her as carefully as his tipsiness will allow. As if he already knows the answer. Their thought patterns are very similar, she’s found. It’s why they’re effective at work and why it’s possible to fall into a discussion on books during their overlapping lunch hours. She likes him—not a lot, but enough to have started this conversation. She stares back at him.

“I wouldn’t say no to it,” he offers quietly, though the bar is crowded tonight and Michelle doubts their words are traveling beyond the booth.

Now, Brad’s looking at her in a way that makes her realize, all this time, he’s barely been looking at her. With the permission to think of her in this way, there’s a clear desire there, a gaze that slips again and again to her mouth. Huh. Ok. Maybe she didn’t completely think this whim through before sharing it with him. She can’t fuck that Brad. She’s been imagining the drinking companion, the nice forearms he reveals when he literally rolls up his sleeves in the field, the man who will always be a little on her nerves for flirting with her as he cradled her against him. Someone whose world she could casually rock with the assurance that they both have enough self-confidence to carry on afterwards without getting clingy or feeling disposed of.

What’s the compromise between abruptly shutting this down (her sex drive weeps) and getting in bed with a guy who will make the experience too emotionally intense?

“Have you ever had a threesome?” Michelle blurts.

“…What? No.”

“Neither have I. But I’ve been, um, wanting to try it.”

Have you? she demands of herself, wiping a damp palm on her jeans.

“You, me, and someone else?” Brad’s eyebrows are very high on his forehead. “That’s a lot of bodies, uh, coming together.”

“Come on, Brad—”

“‘Where’s your sense of adventure?’” he guesses.

“I was going to say, I thought you loved Frankenstein.”

She rounds her impulsive invitation off with a smile.

—

Michelle doesn’t volunteer to select the third person. When she considers which of her friends and acquaintances she’d be comfortable having sex with, well, there’s Brad. That already hasn’t gone the way she predicted. Everyone else she’s close to either feels like family, is in a monogamous relationship, or just isn’t attractive to her in that way. She consoles herself over putting the choice of their third into Brad’s hands with the thought that he seems like he’d be the most suspect person in a friend group (yes, they get along, but there’s something sleazy about the way he tries too hard), so whoever he asks can only be more tolerable than him.

“So, a buddy of mine said he’d be into it,” Brad says as she’s passing his desk one day. Michelle stops dead and he swivels in his chair, drumming his fingers on the armrest.

“You’re talking about…”

“Yeah.” He darts a look around, then hits her with a conspiratorial smile.

“Oh. Ok. Good. Turtles,” she says more loudly to cover for them. Her gaze darts to the nearest desk, but Jocelyn’s wearing headphones and bobbing her head as she populates a spreadsheet. Reassured, Michelle takes a step towards Brad and lowers her voice again. “What’s his name? How do you know him?”

“His name’s Peter. We play soccer together.”

“How the hell do you have time to participate in organized sports?”

“That’s what I do while you’re working your way through the New York Times Best Seller list,” Brad jokes.

“Fair. But who is this guy?”

“You want his résumé?”

“No, I want to know he’s not going to give me an STI or try anything freaky.”

“Freaky,” he echoes. “As opposed to threesomes, which are an incredibly common thing to do with your boyfriend.”

“Or your friend from work,” Michelle retorts, to keep things very clear. Brad appears fleetingly wounded. Too bad. He can say no any time, but it’s obvious that he’d rather see her naked in a threesome than the alternative. Which is never.

“Yeah, of course. Anyway, you don’t have to worry about Peter. He’s responsible, he’s single, he was raised by his aunt and they’re still really close. She comes to all our games.” He lets out a derisive sort of laugh and Michelle narrows her eyes at him.

“That’s sweet.”

“I guess,” he concedes.

“Why’s he single?” she asks, rapid-fire.

“I don’t know, because he wants to be?”

“‘Wants to be’ like he’s emotionally stable and waiting for the right person to come along or ‘wants to be’ like he’s a flake with commitment issues?”

Brad gives her a look like she’s overthinking this; it betrays an utter lack of comprehension of a woman’s perspective on relationships. The validity of her questions goes over his head.

“Why does it matter if he has commitment issues?”

“Relax,” she says, rolling her eyes. “I’m not trying to date him, it just says something about his personality. I don’t want to do this with somebody selfish, because if he’s selfish in other areas, he’s probably selfish in bed.”

“He’s a good passer,” Brad says. “On the field. He always ends the season with more assists than goals.”

“That’s… not a totally useless testimonial.”

“I appreciate your approval.”

Michelle would laugh if his tone weren’t a little too earnest. The way he really wants to impress her can be grating. Well, he’ll soon have his chance to impress her in a situation where she actually wants to be impressed.

“Get back to work, slacker,” she tells him, returning to her own desk.

Fifteen minutes later, Brad texts her with three different dates to choose from. Michelle pulls up her calendar, colour-coded with deadlines and days she’ll be working out in the woods. Taking late nights and the need for long showers into account, she picks a date, then leaves her thumb hovering over ‘Send’. She puts her phone down.

This is where she could still back out. Brad’s mentioned it to his friend, but she’s under no obligation to either of them. Would it be awkward to change her mind and see Brad at work every day? Yes, though she could always say she just wasn’t that serious about it to begin with. Which she wasn’t! For someone who’s soothed by referring to her colour-coded calendar and progressing through life with each forward step carefully considered, tossing out a suggestion to have a threesome was rash.

Michelle eyes her phone.

On the other hand, Brad likes her too much to be a dick post-ménage à trois, which, as far as she can see, is sort of an ideal trait in a threesome companion. If she were going to do this. She wheels her chair back and cranes to peer across the room at him. Focused on his screen, he brushes his black hair out of his face with a quick swipe of his hand. Damn, he is nice-looking. The kind of guy Michelle would definitely approach at a bar for a one-night stand if he flashed a smile her way. If picturing him naked intrigues her, then the idea of lying down between him and another muscled body (Brad said soccer, so she’s assuming this friend has an athletic build) while the three of them wind over and under each other like a braid definitely ticks a big ‘YES’ box in her brain. Her hand shoots out for her phone. She hits ‘Send’.

Three bodies which will, in Brad’s words, be coming together. Maybe not what Mary Shelley had in mind, but anticipating this threesome does more for Michelle’s libido than an electrified jigsaw of corpses ever could.

—

It’s a different bar, and she’s in different clothes, but otherwise, it’s not a totally foreign way for Michelle and Brad to spend their Friday evening. Provided he shows up. She darted home after work and a loaded glance at Brad, showered, and starred deep into her neglected makeup bag like it was some sort of prophetic tool. Michelle, it said to her, you don’t want lipstick smeared all over your face and eyeshadow fallout stinging your eyes. Leave it at mascara and a whole whack of waterproof eyeliner. She obeyed these wise words with trembling hands, nearly prodding herself in the eye with her mascara wand because, even with a doable task to concentrate on, she was nervous.

She adjusts her short, black skirt, rocking side-to-side on the stool. For a regular date, it’s the kind of item she would borrow from a friend, but it struck Michelle as incredibly gross to wear a friend’s skirt to a threesome and then return it to them afterwards, so she bought this one online. During work hours. Feeling incredibly furtive, though everybody dabbles in online shopping during lulls in their workload. The skirt was never a normal purchase; she knew it was going to end up right here, right now, between her ass and a barstool. She gulps the end of her whiskey and goes back to cradling the beer that’s been her emotional support as she waits for the guys.

Arriving ten minutes early has felt like an age—time stretching wretchedly like those clocks in ‘The Scream’—but she finally hears a familiar voice calling her name. Flipping her hair out of the neck of her leather jacket and grabbing her support system, Michelle turns to spot Brad’s face. He smiles and waves, stepping through the crowd that’s building steadily as the after-work drinkers are exchanged for the cutting-loose-for-the-weekend drinkers. When she slips down from the stool, her skirt rides up, and the man who is usually just a co-worker allows himself to notice. His gaze on her bare legs feels good.

“Sorry we’re late,” he says, though they both know she’s early. But Michelle will take this pleasantry over an implication that she’s overeager.

Since they were at work together only a few hours ago, she skips small talk.

“Where’s your…” Friend, she’s going to say. She doesn’t need to.

Brad—tidy in a partially unbuttoned blue shirt—angles himself towards her side, making room for the woman taking the barstool she vacated, and Michelle sees a man approaching with the two of them as his clear destination. Her first sense of him is filtered through Brad. Once, through Brad’s description, twice, through Brad’s cologne. It may be coming off her friend’s skin, but the scent clings to Peter in her brain. What she’s smelling is the woods, only more expensive somehow, like a perfume company bottled the idea of glamping. Doesn’t matter that the scent doesn’t suit him at all. He walks with his head up, eyes openly excited, and it makes her think of a schoolkid progressing through a museum’s dinosaur exhibit. All he’s missing is a backpack with straps for him to clutch. Letting her gaze skim down from his face, Michelle actually can’t picture him trying to haul on a backpack; his shoulders look broad and strong, even under the incongruous red hoodie he’s wearing.

“Oh,” he says when he sees her standing next to Brad. Under any other circumstances, she’d be taken aback by his eyes scanning the full length of her body, but she’s going to fuck this stranger tonight and when he looks back up to her face, he’s grinning. “Hey.”

“Hi,” she replies, more guarded, less forward, until Brad suggests trying to find someplace to sit and Michelle’s able to check Peter out from behind as he leads them away from the bar. Nice butt.

They snag a coveted corner spot as a small group in business attire is leaving it, settling with Brad between them. Peter makes himself useful by dashing back to the bar and returning with the fingers of one hand twined between the necks of a trio of beers and the fingers of the other slightly dipping into the liquid in a pair of tumblers.

“I didn’t know what you’d like beyond what you’re already drinking,” he says, jerking his chin towards the beer Michelle finished while he was gone.

“That’s fine,” she assures him. “I don’t want to be too… I want to be aware of…”

God, trying to discuss the imminent threesome directly is making her flustered. She has a swig from the new bottle he placed in front of her. Peter leans across Brad and offers his to clink with. Where Brad’s face is aggressively handsome in the heavy line of his eyebrows and the sharp perfection of his teeth, up close, Peter’s is cute and unintimidating.

“Here’s to being a consenting participant tonight and remembering it tomorrow,” he says.

Unintimidating, but not uncompelling, especially when he tilts his head back to drink and she can watch the line of his jaw.

Michelle blushes, but knocks her bottle against his.

Two rounds deeper for them and one for her, the heat of the bar and the alcohol in her system are getting to her. She winds her way back from the washroom and shrugs out of her jacket before sitting down. Peter manages to get the end of his sentence out, but Brad doesn’t even try to respond as he takes in the low sides of her silky top. Michelle slides closer to him than she was sitting before and puts a hand on his knee as he finally turns his head and stutters out a reply to Peter. Peter looks past him and catches her eye. Her heart’s springing up and down in her chest because she realized, staring at her reflection as she washed her hands, that, if they’re going to do this, somebody’s gotta make a move. Peter, sleeves shoved up, is staring back at her like he’s been thinking the same thing. His hand smooths over Brad’s thigh.

Under the table, Brad keeps his legs still, his feet flat on the ground. His comfort in his own skin is something Michelle’s always respected. He even succeeds in raising his glass steadily to his lips and taking another drink while Peter runs his hand higher. With a little throat-clearing, Brad parts his thighs further. She doesn’t mean to be, but Michelle’s waiting for Peter to go first. They were talking about something innocuous when he said just enough to imply that he’s never been in a threesome either. Regardless, there’s a confidence in the way he touches Brad. She trails her fingers up Brad’s thigh and Peter locks eyes with her as their gazes cross watching their friend swallow.

Suddenly, the man between them is a little less present, even with the sharp breath he takes at the moment Peter tucks his hand against his crotch. Michelle rests her hand over his. She feels his skin, lets her fingers slip through his, as Brad gasps and swells beneath Peter’s palm; she can tell—they have to change the curve of their grip to accommodate the erection. Brad’s arm curls around her waist and presses her into his side as her and Peter’s hands move together, stroking through Brad’s pants, rubbing him. He glances at her, heat in his eyes, but she’s looking at Peter again by the time she leans in and kisses Brad’s throat. She draws it out into a lick at the slack way Peter’s mouth is hanging open. Hopefully, the fall of her hair is blocking the necking from the view of other patrons, but that hope is tough to keep in mind when Peter’s tongue appears to wet his lower lip. Like she’s kissing him.

There’s a squeeze between Michelle’s thighs that has her gripping Peter’s hand more firmly, urging him to jerk Brad off faster. She glances towards Peter’s lap and he lifts his hoodie with his free hand to expose the bulge in the front of his jeans. The scent of her perfume rises as sweat trickles between her breasts. They knead Brad rapidly until he chokes out a plea for them to stop, begging to take this someplace private. She grabs her jacket in one hand and links the fingers of her other through Brad’s. Tugging him to the exit, she trusts Peter to bring up the rear.

—

Making out in the back of a rideshare is bad behaviour, so Michelle takes the passenger’s seat when the car pulls up. Because she is feeling the need to go back a step from risky under-the-table handjobs and just kiss someone. And that someone is not the friend she arranged this with. She glances at the sidemirror as they’re passing under a streetlight and Peter’s staring at her. He winks. Slowly, like she’s just looking idly around as they drive, she turns to glance into the backseat. Brad has his arm stretched out along the top the seats and his fingers have dipped into the neck of Peter’s hoodie. Michelle’s pulse accelerates just imagining the warmth of that throat. Scrambling for her phone, she sends Brad a text.

Put your fingers in his mouth.

She faces forward again for about a block, prolonging her outward nonchalance even as she hears a vibration, followed by Brad’s soft snort of acknowledgement as he reads her text. She glances around the edge of her seat and sees him act. His hand comes out of the sweatshirt to take Peter by the chin and turn his face towards him. Briefly, he inclines his head towards his friend, speaking too quietly for her to distinguish the words, but Michelle guesses it’s something about her watching because Peter’s gaze jumps to her as he opens his mouth and accepts two of Brad’s fingers. She can see him sucking as Brad withdraws, cheeks flushed. He looks to her—for approval, she thinks, until he holds his wet fingers up and curls them in the air in a highly suggestive motion. Oh shit. Michelle feels herself pressing down on the floor of the car like she’s in the driver’s seat with the accelerator under her foot.

They’re going to her place where: she’s on home turf, she knows it’s clean, she can go right to sleep after kicking them out. Also, the one luxury of her second-story apartment is the king-size bed her friends seriously, outrageously got on ladders to help her push through the sliding door of her balcony because that was easier than carrying it up the narrow staircase. Tonight, she plans to get some good use out of all those acres of mattress.

As with the hijinks in the car, she knows both men are watching her as she lets them into the building and then through her front door.

“Kitchen,” Michelle says, with a loose wave of her hand. “Living room, bathroom. And the bedroom’s at the end of the hall.”

Brad excuses himself to empty his bladder and/or psych himself up in the mirror above the bathroom sink and she’s wondering how to entertain his friend during these uncertain moments of transition when Peter basically lunges forward and kisses her. She moans into his mouth because it’s sudden but it’s good. His hands go right to her ass and her arms wrap around the back of his neck, holding him against her. With her heels, she has a handful of inches on him, but that doesn’t appear to make him pouty or daunted. It’s less than a minute, probably fewer than thirty seconds (understanding the flow of time is temporarily lost on Michelle), but they separate panting.

“You can tell Brad to stick his fingers in my mouth all you want,” Peter murmurs, still staring at her lips, “but I’ve got something I wanna to stick places too.”

“Understood.” She nudges her thigh into his groin.

“So, you guys aren’t waiting for me, huh?” Brad asks with a tight smile as he walks out of the bathroom to see Peter’s hands on her ass and her pressing back against him.

This is kind of the idea, all three of them experimenting with each other, but she can tell he’s annoyed that anything went on while he was out of the room. That he’s possibly jealous. Though it doesn’t feel right to move away from Peter, Michelle knows how to rectify this. She strides to Brad and puts her hands lightly on his chest before kissing him, more coyly than Peter kissed her. She lets Brad come down to her as he hunts out what he wants from the kiss. This feels nice too, though it has more of the familiarity of kissing a friend—even though they haven’t touched in this way before—than the bubbling lust that went with kissing Peter. As she continues, tracing her fingers to the center of his chest to stroke his skin and begin undoing his buttons, Peter comes up behind her and helps her out of her jacket. She hears her keys jingle in the pocket and tap against her phone. When his hands sneak through the sides of her shirt to run across the underside of her breasts, Michelle pushes Brad back, back, back, and the three of them stagger to her bedroom.

She and Brad make out in the dark for a while, and without light, the kissing get rougher, their breathing ragged. Once she has all the buttons of Brad’s shirt undone, she reaches back for Peter and he grips her hand tightly as he grinds his erection against her ass. They’re pressing snugly into her front and back when she thinks of things like being able to locate condoms and ogle muscles—both activities require some light. Michelle squeezes out from between them and turns her bedside lamp on, angling the shade so the light stays low. Turning to check on them, she sees one man standing there with his shirt open and dishevelled and the other rigid in the front of his jeans. Brad’s hard too—she felt it when she stood against him, but his erection’s not visible from where she’s standing now. It’s odd, seeing the space between their bodies and knowing she was just in it. But with Peter rubbing Brad’s dick at the bar and Brad clearly turned on by having Peter suck his fingers on the way here, they’ve been messing around too. Why should they pause to get her back in the middle? Stubborn and curious, Michelle crosses her arms where she stands and gives them an expectant look.

Peter reacts first; he grabs the back of Brad’s neck and stretches up to kiss him. The instant their mouths meet, Michelle understands the three of them have a problem. Trading off sexual favours, these guys are ok, but being on two sides of the same kiss makes them competitive. Fucking weekend athletes. Countering the dominant neck-grab, Brad bats Peter’s arm away and takes his face in his hands. It’s not sweet, it’s controlling. Peter’s next move is yanking Brad’s body against his by crumpling the open front of his shirt in his fists. Oops, well, alright, Michelle decides. Maybe it’s better to put herself back in the equation.

Because she has no intention of babying Brad through this experience, when she slips between them, she puts her back to him. Picturing his disappointed face, she raises her arms.

“Take her shirt off,” Peter interprets, tearing his hoodie over his head in a flurry that peels the t-shirt beneath halfway up his torso.

It’s evident in his method that Brad isn’t interested in being told what to do with her. He makes sure to drag his hands over her as he takes his time. Maybe he’s being a dick about it—that’s what the narrowing of Peter’s eyes tells her as he stares at Brad around Michelle’s head—but she’s enjoying this. There’s something about having spent so much time with Brad and those hands that has her pressing back against his erection. She’s witnessed him performing countless practical tasks, like driving the stakes for ‘Trail Closed’ signs deep into semi-frozen ground with a sledgehammer to protect new plant growth in the spring, knotting a rope leash around the waist of one of their colleagues as overkill when they wade into a pond to collect a sample, or just his impressive typing speed. (Not as many words per minute as she logs, but still.) He’s only quick when he pushes the material above her breasts and shifts his hands down quickly to cover, then massage them. She can almost hear him internally screaming at Peter that he beat him to this, only she doesn’t care. He’s tugging her nipples now and she shuts her eyes with a sigh.

“You like that?” he asks into her ear, which is when Peter loses patience for this display and removes her shirt the rest of the way himself.

Michelle retaliates by dropping her arms and edging his shirt up his stomach while Brad continues to caress her chest, now also kissing her shoulder. Though Peter lets her remove his t-shirt herself, she can add a willingness to get naked quick to the few things she knows about him; he seems like he’d be just as happy to whip all his clothes off at once as go through the foreplay of undressing each other. She remembers what he said to her in the kitchen. He has his own aspirations for tonight and the grin he gives her when she gets his t-shirt off makes her wonder what he wants and how soon she’ll be giving it to him. Michelle can’t feel any part of her resisting. It’s… surprisingly freeing.

Brad shuffles behind her, slipping out of his shirt, and her heart leaps as his chest presses to her back, skin to skin. Peter makes a grab for her crotch, but she lifts her eyebrows wryly and spins to face Brad instead.

“This fucking skirt,” she hears Peter mumble behind her as he slides his hands up her thighs to play with the hem.

It’s not exactly a sexual fantasy she’s fulfilling when she digs her fingers into Brad’s hair and combs it back, but it’s definitely a fantasy. He just has great hair. Sometimes, when she’s bored in a meeting, she’ll look over at him and feel this compulsion to run her fingers through it. She discovers that the strands feel soft and wonderful, so there’s one dream realized.

As she’s moving the palm of her hand down to cup his cheek, she shifts her head to the side, catching Brad’s eye and nodding back towards Peter.

“Kiss him nicely,” Michelle instructs.

Brad’s dark eyes bore into hers for a moment, then he breaks the stare and looks to Peter.

“Let’s go, Parker.”

Satisfied, she gets out of the way, circling behind Peter. While he’s partly distracted by the kiss (tamer than last time, by the looks of it), she rests her hands on his waist. Then, Michelle thinks, Screw it, and feels him up all over his chest, shoulders, and stomach, before wending her way down to his hips. His jeans are probably really putting pressure on his erection right now. She’ll help. After flicking the button open, she means to move away, but… plans change. She’s barely dipping the tips of her fingers below the waist of his jeans when Peter pulls away from Brad’s insistent mouth to mutter, “Well, that’s not fair.”

Instead of continuing, Michelle delights in retreating. Peter’s protesting noise is absorbed by his friend’s lips and she pats his ass before going to tease Brad. First, she guides the hand Peter has on Brad’s shoulder up into his hair so he can share her joy at how touchable it is. Then, she grazes her palms down his back. His friend’s body is dense with muscles, like somebody who goes to the gym a lot, where Brad’s is lean. Their work is a decent split between time indoors and outside, fairly physical, so she knows he has strong legs, good lungs, all the endurance he needs for the days they have to park far from a trailhead or navigate gullies. She forgot to ask what position they each play on their soccer team, but she’ll be concerned with another type of position for the foreseeable future.

To keep things even, Michelle unbuttons Brad’s pants. He makes a needful sound and goes momentarily loose between her body and Peter’s. This is not the reaction she expected from a man so socially comfortable, who apparently maintains a far better work/life balance (and, presumably, a steadier sex life) than she has lately. These noises, which continue as she works his zipper down against the push of his erection, expose him. He makes himself vulnerable. Something zinging through Michelle’s body compels her to take advantage.

She and Peter propel Brad’s co-operative body towards the bed. The guys land with a thump and continue kissing; Peter’s fingers form a gun as he angles Brad’s jaw, driving his tongue into his friend’s mouth. Michelle stares at them, breathing hard for having done nothing. Not breaking the kiss, Brad raises a hand to reach for her, but she’s quicker than that, dropping to her knees. She and the band of his underwear get along immediately—it’s easy to uncover his dick and the elastic cradles him instead of trying to snap back into place against his abdomen. Though the access with his pants still on isn’t amazing, she kisses his stomach, then the head of his cock. Up above, Brad moans.

With a smirk, Michelle repositions a little on her knees and grasps her friend’s thighs. He’s whimpering. He’s full-on whimpering. She leans in and licks slowly up his length. Her heels are already starting to bother her, so she reaches back and tugs them off one at a time. The next thing she means to do is gather her hair out of the way as she shallowly sucks Brad’s erection and strands swing forward, trying to tangle in his open zipper and stick to the saliva she’s coating him in, but Peter’s hand is there first. Still making out with Brad (she can hear it if she can’t see it), he encircles her hair in his grip and rests his fist lightly on her shoulder. Dammit. She’s a soft touch for his soft touch, closing her eyes to the sensation of his knuckles brushing her skin. This stranger is ruining the nice underwear she put on tonight.

“Please, Michelle, please,” Brad breaks free of Peter’s mouth to say.

He reaches out to hold her ribs, cup her breasts, but while he and his friend might share the field on Saturdays or whenever, they don’t seem to be on the same team tonight.

“Nope,” Peter informs him. “I get her next.”

“None of that possessive shit,” she warns.

“Can I please have you next?”

“You must be a real pain for your friends,” Michelle guesses sarcastically, letting him guide her over to his lap instead of Brad’s. (Who’s probably looking sour. She doesn’t know. Her eyes are glued to Peter’s.)

“No pain, I promise. I’ll be gentle.”

She rolls her eyes and settles in, straddling him.

“Oh my—” There is no ‘god’ because he kisses her before she can finish.

That’s his second annoying offense in seconds and she’s going to let him know. Really, she is. But he’s reminding her that he never let go of her hair by lifting it and slipping his hand against the nape of her neck to caress her skin. Michelle angles her hips and grinds up and down the swell in his jeans. Peter doesn’t mess around stroking her legs and hips, he just darts both hands beneath her skirt and traces the edges of her underwear where they curve around her thighs and narrow between them. She can feel him draw the fabric aside and gasps into his mouth, anticipating his fingers, when Brad tips the both of them over.

It’s disorienting, but they twist onto their sides and her friend scoots close behind her, so she decides she doesn’t mind.

“You’re not getting out of this,” Peter speaks quietly against her mouth when she thinks he’s about to kiss her again.

Michelle finds herself smiling, almost laughing, as he flips her skirt up and elects to take her underwear off. There’s only so much he can do like this, so she takes over, kicking them to the floor. That’s annoying offense number three; those underwear are sexy and she thought she’d be showing them off some before they hit the hardwood. Weirdly, Peter’s disregard only makes her smile broaden.

“Like I was trying,” she quips.

“Are we bantering,” Brad checks, “or are we fucking?”

“Dude, I am so sorry for the people you sleep with. Banter is an important part of the process,” Peter instructs.

“Fuck you, Parker.”

“And when you do, I guess I can’t expect any banter. I’ll adjust my expectations.”

“I’ll adjust your nose with my fist,” Brad responds in a playful tone. Michelle isn’t completely sold and she wavers, sandwiched between the two of them.

“Cool,” she says, “but actually, I am here to get laid.”

Two sets of male hands collide where her thighs are pressed together. She takes a deep breath at their enthusiasm, unable to tell whose fingers are skating along the skin just above her pubic hair and whose are subtly attempting to wedge between her legs.

“After you,” Brad says smoothly.

“Thanks, man.”

Her friend’s hands retreat a short distance and Peter insinuates one of his thighs between hers to create some space.

“This ok?” he checks, sweet face even sweeter horizontal.

“Be my guest,” Michelle says, copying Brad’s formality and reaching up and back to squeeze his shoulder so he realizes. She gets a kiss on her neck in response.

Peter’s fingers run slickly through her arousal. It’s a methodical mapping, feeling as though it’s meant to arouse her rather than him, but their eyes meet and he’s wearing an expression like he’s the one being fondled, though his erection cleaves to his abdomen, twitching under his clothes as he fingers her.

“You’re teasing me,” she points out, pulse jumping at her inner thigh.

“Am I not supposed to?”

Michelle tries to rock harder against the pass of his fingers and he moves them away with a grin and a chiding, “Ah!”

“Just give her what she wants,” is Brad’s disgruntled input.

She turns to watch as he sits up and undresses from the waist down. He gives her a smile like they’re on the same side, demonstrated by him advocating for her pleasure—something Michelle’s quite comfortable doing on her own. And yet, alright, her friend’s heart is in the right place, and it is difficult to monitor and decipher the fluctuating moods and responses of two other people, and his directive is obeyed. Peter’s fingers return and push through the wetness he helped generate, touching her entrance and gliding inside her, one finger, then two. Michelle groans deep in her throat because finally.

Brad lies down at her back again and, with Peter working her up, she fumbles behind her and grabs her friend’s ass to encourage him closer. She can feel him hard and hot against her, partly touching her rumpled skirt, partly her skin. He rubs against her and reaches an arm around, greedily squeezing her hip, then sweeping down to feel for her clit.

She’s sweating between their bodies, breathing hard and shuddering involuntarily when Brad gets his fingers positioned to trap her clit and begin gradually cracking her mind like peanut brittle. Where he’s painstaking, Peter’s exultant. He increases the pace of his fingers until they’re shuttling in and out of her. Michelle grips Brad’s wrist with one hand, Peter’s neck with the other, then switches, then moves both hands, grappling for some constancy that the part of her brain currently squashed beneath her need for satisfaction knows she’s not gonna get. Her hips are writhing in their hands as a clear goal fights its way through the fog of lust: unzip Peter’s jeans. It’s tricky, with the over- and underpass of arms, but she does it and he thanks her with a sloppy kiss that only seems to land on her mouth by miracle.

“Close,” she gasps.

Behind her, Brad groans and nips at the base of her neck, making her shake. He’s humping her quickly, pushing with his hips as he pulls back with his fingers on her clit. Good thing Peter hooks his fingers firmly inside her so he doesn’t get jostled off this ride. Good thing too that his curling motion strikes her so, so right. Michelle cries out and comes, his fingers still pumping ruthlessly inside her, Brad pinching her clit, and then coming himself; she feels the jet spurt up her back, probably some on her skirt too.

Which is why she did not borrow clothes for this threesome.

Peter’s expression is impish as he tries to keep coaxing her through the pleasure, but she pushes at his chest and he finally takes his hand away.

“Oh my god,” Michelle sighs, flopping back and half onto Brad.

“Go team,” her friend pants from beneath her.

“Yeah. You guys have some kinda cheer you do at your games?”

“Sometimes we bump chests,” Peter offers, hands suddenly on her boobs.

She twists, trying to see Brad’s face without lifting up. Her temple makes contact with his chin.

“Does your friend have an off switch?”

“If he did, I’d skip that and just pull the plug,” Brad says. He wraps an arm around her and she wiggles until he relaxes the hold, forcing him to make it less territorial.

“Aww,” Peter says, managing to cup her breasts in a perfunctory way, like he’s pushing them up to prevent under-boob sweat while she cools off post-orgasm, “you guys are bantering. I knew you could do it. Also,” he adds, “I don’t know if anyone happens to be keeping track, but I’m the only one who hasn’t gotten off.”

“That sucks, man.”

With effort, Michelle sits up and glares at Brad’s unconcerned face.

“Don’t be a dick,” she says.

“Yeah, Brad,” Peter joins in.

Shaking her head, she puts her back to her friend and checks Peter’s face for her go-ahead. He nods in rapid approval, so she grips the waist of his open jeans and pulls down while he lifts his ass from her bed. Fuck, the three of them never even got under the sheet. Then again, it’s easier to be mobile above it. Plus, it’s an extra layer between her expensive mattress and the fluid drying on her spine.

Because Peter doesn’t seem like the kinda guy who cares to be undressed layer by layer, Michelle doesn’t striptease herself with taking off his clothes slowly. At some point, he kicked his shoes away, meaning it’s straightforward to yank the boxers and jeans down his legs. Her intention is to remove them completely. He doesn’t seem to have a hell of a lot of regard for her intentions.

“That’s far enough, I swear,” he says, when she has his jeans around his shins. “I’m good. Nike time. Just do it.”

“Just do what exactly?” Michelle asks indulgently. She rests a hand on his naked thigh and tries not to stare openly at his dick, red as a slap.

“Anything. Whatever you want. Brad says you’re multitalented.”

Brad rolls over lazily to glare at Peter.

“What the hell, Parker? Don’t make it sound like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I talk about Michelle like that!”

“I get it,” she says, cutting him off. Please shut up, Peter, she thinks. “You talk to him about work. You appreciate me as a co-worker.”

“That’s definitely why I’ve heard so much about you,” Peter agrees provokingly. “Because he appreciates you as a co-worker.”

“You know what?” Brad bites out.

“What?”

Michelle rolls her eyes and opts to terminate this snippy little back and forth by grasping Peter’s cock and bending over to wrap her lips around the head. That shuts both of them up. Thank god, some fucking peace.

He emits a deep groan of approval and weaves his fingers into her hair, slightly bucking his hips. As she sinks to take him deeper, she hears another groan—hoarse with an entirely different emotion—coming from Brad. She doesn’t stop. If he has something to say, he can damn well use his words. Michelle clutches the inside of Peter’s muscular thigh and sucks as she starts to withdraw only to plunge him farther into her mouth. Peter’s hand finds hers and tangles their fingers together next to his hip, catching some of the sheet in his grip too. The gesture dizzies her heart.

While he’s seeing god, Brad’s apparently seeing red, because he taps, then tugs, at her shoulder, until she pulls off of Peter and shoots her friend an impatient look.

“What?”

“I’ll do that,” he says, nodding towards Peter’s straining, saliva-slicked erection.

“Somebody better fucking do it,” Peter says in the tragic tone of an established sufferer. They ignore him for the moment.

“You want to?” Michelle asks skeptically.

When Brad averts his eyes from hers, she realizes that, no, he doesn’t want to, he just doesn’t enjoy watching her blow Peter. She wavers, wondering if she should cancel tonight halfway through. Maybe that would be sacrificing what she wants for the self-esteem of these two men, but they’re just so goddamn annoying. They’re supposed to be friends and they’re acting like rivals. Michelle doesn’t owe loyalty to either of them, she’s nobody’s girlfriend, and yet she’s getting the feeling that she needs to pick a side. Even a novice like her can tell this isn’t the way a threesome’s meant to go. If they were worse at this, she might be able to walk away.

Abruptly, Brad kisses her, then nudges her gently aside as he drops to his elbows to pick up where she left off. Peter draws a fraying breath. Well, either these two aren’t combative enough to present her with an ultimatum, or they just want to get laid as badly as she does. If Brad bites Peter or some shit though, she’s throwing them both out and leaving the necessary medical care in their hands. Michelle will not be responsible for these men and their egos.

Peter tweaks her fingers, their hands still clasped. She leans in close to observe his heavy breathing and the way his hair’s sticking to his sweaty forehead.

“I still want you,” he whispers. The words are like static shock, like a finger tracing unexpectedly down her neck. “And you better be quick because I think Brad thinks he’ll get extra points for speed.”

He gasps, eyes rolling back, and Michelle instinctively cups his neck, running the pad of her thumb along his throat. She doesn’t glance over at Brad; hearing the frantic wet noises paints a sufficiently informative picture.

“You think you can concentrate while he’s doing that?”

“Totally.” Immediately, a desperate, guttural croak leaves Peter’s lips.

“You sure?”

“No, but I still want to put my tongue inside you and that should count for—uhhh!—something.”

“Such as?” she asks with a wry smile, straightening her legs out so she can remove her unspeakably defiled skirt.

“Hell if I know, my concentration was pretty shitty to begin with.”

“Center yourself,” Michelle says in the calm, instructive tone of a yoga tutorial as she levers herself over his chest and rests her ass lightly on the hard planes of his pecs.

“Brad,” Peter begs, “cut me some slack for one fucking minute, dude.”

“One minute, huh?” she teases.

“Are you doubting me?”

“Peter Parker, I don’t even know you.”

But, somehow, she’s beaming down at him as her hair falls around her shoulders. For an instant, he looks completely focused on her and not the sound of Brad switching from giving him head to pumping him in a fist (his version of slack-cutting, evidently). Peter eyes her from her face down to where her legs are spread above his body. Then back to her face.

“I’d like for you to.”

Her teasing expression softens. She parts her lips to respond and he wrenches her forward, onto a mouth that opens at once. He licks up into her, then keep his tongue tensed and prods her clit back and forth. Michelle curls into herself, thighs suddenly snug against the sides of his head, fingers locked in his hair.

This is, perhaps, the single event within the larger experience that sells her on threesomes. Peter’s mouth feels incredible on its own (like he’s fusing the peanut brittle shards of her mind back together again and going too far, melting them into goo), but the intermittent moaning that leaves it due to Brad’s contribution down below means Michelle’s riding something that licks, sucks, and vibrates. She’s a mess. Tilted forward, she’s nearly crying out to plant her hands on the bed and just grind across Peter’s tongue, but the hand not hold hers has her hip in a formidable hold and she can’t reach far enough to be comfortable. Each time she thinks to force her eyes open and check his face to make sure he’s enjoying this as much as she is (and still breathing), Peter’s eyelids are flickering as he absorbs the combined pleasure of taking from Brad and giving to Michelle. She’s shaking and trying not to get too rough with him, smoothing a hand over the hair she’s been practically pulling out at the roots. Peter counters with a quick smack to her ass before seizing her hip again. Fine, she won’t be nice.

Michelle shifts and rolls her clit against the tip of his nose. It positions her entrance above his wide-open mouth and he slides his tongue thickly back inside her. The sound of him tongue-fucking her is graphic. He loses his rhythm and gets even more aggressive with his mouth—she figures he’s close to release. Peter groans and arches his neck and chin up when he finishes, so she lifts swiftly away, hating to do it, aching and slippery.

She throws herself off of him, collapsing back onto her elbows with her thighs quivering. Dazedly, she observes Brad hurrying from the room with his lips clamped together (not a swallower then—the things she’s learning about her friend tonight). Peter’s lying there, spent. With her emotions high, their tableau causes her to despair. It’s over. It’s all over. One of them’s too wiped to carry on, the other’s just finished giving oral and won’t want to return just to bring her to orgasm. Michelle lets her head hang back and swipes two fingers over her clit, catching it and adding pressure on the upstroke.

Peter rolls over like he’s risen from the dead.

“You don’t—” she begins, but then he’s there, between her quaking knees, suctioning his mouth to her and using his tongue to fiddle around with her clit. His arms are limp and heavy as they hold her thighs down and open. Any energy he has is converted into strokes and twirls, from there into her overwhelmed sobs. Brad walks back in to Michelle yelling, “Peter, fuck!” as she climaxes with her head thrown back and his pressed insistently into her groin by her stiff hand. When Brad comes to sit on the bed, Peter’s leg kicks out and catches him right in the stomach. The kick drives him off the mattress and onto the floor with a thud.

Michelle scrambles away from Peter, to the edge of the bed, as Brad stands and starts putting his clothes on, his back to her.

“Are you going?”

She sees Brad’s shoulders rise and fall as he sighs, but he doesn’t answer her. Once he’s dressed from the waist down, he lifts his shirt from the floor with a swish and slips his arms in as he walks back out of the room. Uh oh. Michelle glances to Peter who appears maddeningly unsurprised. She yanks at the bedsheet until he moves off of it, but touches her wrist as she wraps it hastily around herself to chase after their friend.

“I’m sorry if I wrecked this for you,” he says.

“No.” She shakes her head. “He wanted tonight to be something it was never going to be and I thought, when he invited you, that he could handle it, but… I gotta go talk to him.”

“I think I’m already lucky he didn’t jump up and break my nose, so I better stay here.”

“Alright.”

Michelle almost stumbles trying to keep the end of the sheet off the floor, but she gets to Brad while he’s still buttoning his shirt, patting his pockets to check for wallet, phone, keys, maybe the little Swiss Army knife he carries because it always comes in handy eventually.

“Brad,” she says, cautious in cotton and bare feet.

He cuts a look at her with his dark eyes.

“Better not,” he suggests.

“You’re really leaving?”

“Do you need me to stay?”

She hesitates, leaning away from him slightly at the question.

“Well, it was supposed to be—”

“No,” he interrupts. “Do you need me to stay?”

His eyebrow twitches with everything he’s suppressing: hurt, hope, jealousy. Brad’s smart, he knows the answer, but he still ventures forward with grave determination, the way he’d lead a group of their colleagues down a forest deer path that may or may not be crossed with poison ivy. But Michelle is not something for him to sweep clear and overcome.

“We can only be friends, Brad,” she tells him, straight and honest. “That doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy doing this with you…”

He grins ironically, giving her a glimpse of his bright, perfect teeth.

“Please. You two were shutting me out before Parker booted me in the stomach.”

She doesn’t really have a defense for that. They might have touched Brad, grabbed him, licked and kissed him, but none of that compared to how she felt whenever Peter took her hand. She’s actually a little scared to walk back into her bedroom and face that.

“He didn’t mean to,” Michelle asserts awkwardly. Brad lifts his eyebrows. “Probably,” she qualifies. He nods tiredly.

“If he tells you I was a dick to him after our next game…”

“What makes you think I’ll still be in contact with him then?” Brad gives her a look and she frowns, chastened. “I’ll believe him,” she says instead, “and I won’t blame you.”

“This sucks,” he admits, smiling tightly at the floor.

“Can I get you a glass of water for the road? Transit fare?”

“I’d actually rather get out of here and begin the process of trying to forget what Peter’s dick looks like close up as soon as possible.”

She says nothing to champion the dick in question. That would be cruel.

“This was… something I hope we can laugh about someday,” Brad says, and quickly kisses her cheek.

“I’ll—” they say together.

“—text you tomorrow.”

“—see you on Monday,” Michelle says. “Oh. Uh…”

“Space,” he says, understanding.

“Probably good for right now.”

“Yeah.”

When he leaves, she locks the door and bangs her forehead against it. Fuck. She’s going to have to get a new job, isn’t she? Walking in to spot his heartbroken face every day is more than she wants to deal with. Their initiative has a bigger office downtown, not the outpost-like space they work out of. She can apply there. Probably should’ve ages ago, when she started outgrowing the place she’s at. She’ll miss traipsing around outside the city, having to check her legs for ticks, her hair for spiders, and her arms for dead-branch-inflicted scratches deep enough to require infection-preventative measures, but she can buy some fucking plants. Start a garden in her windowsill. Hike on the weekends. Regain some of that thankless grant application time by devoting it to projects more clout will actually allow her to push forward. Be the chooser instead of the beggar.

Michelle laughs at herself, faintly tipsy and two orgasms deep, standing alone in her entryway in a poor man’s frat party toga.

She gets herself the glass of water she offered Brad. She pees with her goddamn adult white sheet scrunched up in her lap like a bride’s dress on her wedding day. She strides back to the bedroom and drops the sheet at the door.

“Hello,” Peter says, perking up.

“Hello yourself.” The man is stark naked and unashamed. “You’ve been, what, chilling?”

“I also eavesdropped.”

“You’re a loser.”

“I’m the loser you haven’t kicked out of your apartment,” he points out. His gaze slips naturally to her chest as she climbs onto the bed on her knees and takes a seat beside his prone body.

“Why is that?”

She asks rhetorically, but Peter either doesn’t pick up on that or ignores it. She kinda likes that about him. Where Brad tries so hard with her, Peter leaves her room to try a little too.

“You like me.”

“Unfortunately, that is possible.”

“Unfortunately? Give me back those orgasms I gave you then,” he demands.

“Orgasm,” Michelle corrects, emphasizing the singular. “The first one was assisted. You can’t take full credit.”

“Bullshit.”

She shakes her head but Peter grabs the back of her knee, pulling her forward, stretching her out, until she’s on her back, laughing, and he’s hovering over her, inches from a kiss that she really, really wants to receive. Strange.

“Is not,” she tells him flatly.

“Then I’m earning that plural.”

“Oh yeah?”

Instead of kissing her or lowering himself down onto her or otherwise touching her in any way at all, Peter leaves. Michelle sits up and looks after him, baffled.

“Where are your washcloths?” he shouts from the bathroom 30 seconds later. A laugh bursts out of her.

“Tall cabinet next to the shower!”

She listens to him running water in the sink. Laughs again when he returns at a run.

“Flip over!” Peter says wildly.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Come on, while it’s still hot. It’ll feel nicer.”

Michelle rolls her eyes and maneuvers onto her stomach. He washes her back with the warm cloth. He washes her back. She folds her arms under her head and pillows her cheek on them, candidly observing him. In a practical sense, Peter’s wiping away what Brad left behind, and buying himself time to get hard again, she’s certain. But it doesn’t all feel like practicality. Not when every pass of the cloth is so careful, or when Peter makes another sprinted trip to the bathroom to heat it up for her, or when he’s lying down alongside her by the end, beginning to lightly kiss her clean skin.

“I don’t understand you,” she hears herself confess.

“I’m an enigma,” he agrees. Michelle snorts.

“I do like you though.”

“Called it.”

He chucks the damp, cooling washcloth over the side of her bed and she glares at him.

“This room has wood floors. Which I pay for. As a feature of this apartment.”

“It’s not on the floor, it’s on my jeans.”

“So, it’s soaking into your jeans right now? That’s convenient for you.”

“Is it?” Peter asks vaguely. His hand is rubbing back and forth very low on her back.

“I’m assuming you’re not planning to get back into wet jeans tonight and make your way home.”

“I would if you asked me to,” he swears, giving her puppy-dog eyes.

“Are you forcing me to say this out loud?”

A winning smile. She sighs in exasperation and turns onto her side, propping her head up with her hand.

“Peter, would you like to stay over?”

“Do you want that?”

“You’re a pain,” she says for the second time. Peter continues smiling, waiting. Michelle takes a deep breath and keeps her eyes on his, not letting her gaze drift around the apartment that is nice but lonely, tranquil but lifeless. It has life with this surprising person in it. “I want that.”

He shuffles close to her with a grin.

“I want that,” he says, brushing his lips across hers.

“Mmm,” Michelle agrees. Her eyelids fall. She parts her lips for his tongue. His hand fits into the curve of her waist and slips over to touch her back. His thickening erection nudges her mons, then her abdomen as he swells against her. Her moan skips and drags and Peter clutches at her more purposefully, tipping her onto her back.

“Condom,” she remembers, and points him to the box tucked out of sight. Discrete for the fact that she bought it for use in a threesome with a work friend and a total stranger.

Peter holds up her copy of Frankenstein, resting beneath the box.

“You a fan?” he asks, returning it to its place and tearing open the wrapper on the condom.

“I’ve read it twice, but I think I prefer Dracula.”

“Aw, I’m a wolfman guy,” Peter offers. He puts the condom on like it’s a sock or a baseball cap; there’s definite familiarity there. And Michelle doesn’t care. “Dracula and Frankenstein’s monster are creepy, sure, but the wolfman is two different people: the regular guy and then this creature in the shadows during the full moon. I don’t know, I think there’s something really cool about that. You ever watch the old Lon Chaney movies?”

Ok, she more than likes him. She likes him quite a lot. Smiling, Michelle shakes her head.

“Well,” he says, but he stops talking then. There’s a depth to the look in his eyes as he gazes at her. She lets him in and stands as horizontal witness to his existence in blinks and breaths and the pound of his heart she can almost feel from here.

“Why don’t you get the light?”

Click.

In the dark, it’s less of a performance, not that Peter doesn’t clearly intend to perform. Michelle’s eyes rest without the light and she breathes deeply as Peter comes over her and kisses her neck. Her eyes are still adjusting while he takes a meandering route down her chest, pressing his mouth harder against her breasts. He licks across her nipple; she scratches her nails up the back of his neck and into his hair. When she lets out the smallest huffing sound of enjoyment, he cups his hand between her thighs, skates a finger along her entrance. As if she wouldn’t be wet. As if the foreplay didn’t start the minute he walked back in with that warm cloth and draped it across her back.

“Any specific requests?” he asks, lifting his head from her chest. She can see his face now. Enough light gets in around the edges of her blinds. She runs her fingers through his loosely curling hair, then arches her body up against his.

“Don’t be gentle.”

Michelle feels the eager tremor of his hand against her inner thigh as he lines himself up and eases inside her. His breathing catches. She tilts her hips and raises her knees from the bed, urging him in, farther, all the way. Peter withdraws and she’s assuming he’ll build up to what she asked for, but he slams back in. Though she clenches her teeth around the sensation of him filling her so hard and so well, a whine escapes.

“You’ve been waiting for this,” she acknowledges, accuses, admires.

He pauses, hands planted to either side of her on the bed.

“Like I said, I’ve heard a lot about you. I’ve been waiting for this since I convinced Brad to tell me your name.”

She wants to think and hide and hold him close, but she can reflect later. He seems to agree. Peter’s thrusts are rough and rhythmic. Pounding into her like a machine one minute, he’ll be playfully grabbing her wrists and licking her neck the next. When she tightens her legs around him, he lets her change their positions, only to haul her beneath him again—on her stomach this time—as he rocks in and out and wedges his hand under her to rub her clit. They chase each other across her mattress and Michelle comes clawing at her pillow, invigorated by the certainty that this is the best time she’s ever had in bed. Peter bites her earlobe as he snatches one of her scrabbling hands and spills into the condom.

He doesn’t help her remake her bed with clean sheets because he claims to be “bad at it.” She’s debating the potential truth of that when he returns with a bowl of popcorn after leaving her alone to do it herself, joins in, and somehow puts a lavender pillowcase on inside out. Michelle sets it right with a laugh and they get back in bed together, popcorn and her laptop playing Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man between them.

She slips away to shower after Peter falls asleep with his head on her lap. When she gets back, she quietly removes the bowl and the laptop. The bed’s a king—she’s used to her space and she doesn’t need to sleep close to him—but Michelle squirms into the warmth his body radiates. He stirs enough to breathe in the scent of her hair, kiss her forehead, and thrust his hand into hers. Confused by the gesture, she frowns at his face, with its softly closed eyes.

“By the way,” Peter mumbles, shaking her hand, “nice to meet you.”

Michelle smiles and pats his arm as he drops it over her, instinctively pulling her close.

#my writing #thotumn #peter parker is a thot #spideychelle #spideychelle fanfiction #peter parker #peter x mj #peter x michelle #peter parker x michelle jones #michelle jones #brad davis #been sitting with this done for almost a month lol

[mymoodwriting]

Beyond The Stars

F!Reader x EXO

Genre: Amnesia AU, EXO Universe/Planet

Warning: Electrocution, Drugs, Abuse

Words: 6.6K

Chapter Thirteen

(Prev//Next)

Prompt: You’re the most important thing to EXO, you’ve been with them for years, and when you wind up missing, it greatly upsets them. Their journey to find you and bring you home starts a chain of events that leads to facing their own greatest fears, making unlikely allies, traveling to other worlds again and finally gathering the strength to take down their greatest enemy. Along the way you get to see their true colors and fall in love all over again, although you might come to realize you don’t like what you see in the mirror.

@suhappysuho​

“So what do we have?”

    The boys that remained were gathered at the dining table. There was a silence that filled the space, reminding them of the grim situation they were in.

“I managed to check nearby CCTV footage and retrace y/n’s steps.” Lay began. “It seems one of the kidnappers just grabbed her off the street. She didn’t scream or fight, they had a quick chat before going to the hotel, so they knew each other.”

“They knew each other?” Suho questioned. “How?”

“I looked into that. The only people she could be friendly with must have been from her job at the casino. I found a match, a bartender, Johnny seems to be our kidnapper.”

“An old friend…” DO mumbled. “They must have been watching her for a long time, but if they really are… why didn’t they take her sooner?”

“Because they knew she’d lead them back to us.” Kai answered. “Which is exactly what happened.”

“They weren’t prepared for us though, in the hotel. They were on their way out, meaning she was the only target. They got lucky with the others…”

“None of this makes sense.” Suho added. “If she was their only target, what exactly are they doing?”

“Checking up on her I’m sure.” DO said. “Regardless, I have narrowed down the possibilities as to who they’re posing as on this Earth.

“Just fucken say it.” Kai spat. “The Red Force found us, and we got fucked. Half of us were captured, and so was y/n. We need to get her back, fast, before they do who knows what to her, and to them.”

“Do you need a flower too?” Lay asked. “Baekhyun’s already out of commission, and we can’t afford another loss so get your head on straight.”

“Fuck, how do we even get any of them back? We find where they’re being held and then what? Just storm in RF’s base and expect to escape all together?”

“When we find the place we can begin to plan.” DO said. “From what I researched, only three places can possibly be RF. So we need to do some recon, and further research.”

“What type of companies are they?” Suho asked.

“Two are pharmaceuticals, and one is tech. Does that tell you anything?”

“Does it tell you anything?”

“Huh?”

“You’ve been with… which company is more likely to have the resources to do the things RF does… to us… in your experience…”

“… the pharmaceuticals, the drugs needed to keep the humans under control would be a lot to manage for a tech company, but a drug company can easily do that.”

“Then we narrow down our list to just two.”

“That doesn’t get us closer to bringing them home.” Kai reminded. “Just more danger.”

“Not entirely.” Lay added. “That Johnny boy knew y/n, they were friends. It’s highly unlikely RF only had one person keep an eye on her, meaning anyone else in her life at the time could be RF too.”

“How does that help?”

“In my research I discovered Johnny left his job at the casino recently, meaning other RF spies probably did the same. I’ll make a list of the people who recently left the casino and if any of them match current employees at either of the pharmaceutical companies, I think we’ll know where to look. It’d be too much of a coincidence if they left the casino and are suddenly employed in one of these companies, they’re pretty big and prestigious after all.”

“Okay, that could work.”

“It’s better than just going in blind and hoping for some kind of slip up from RF’s end.” DO said. “Let’s do that.”

“How’s Baekhyun?” Suho asked “You didn’t put him in the garden, right?”

“I considered it, but he seems to be calm right now. I’m worried though, we’re going to need him eventually, and keeping him out of the loop isn’t going to help us.”

“It’s better we leave things like this until we have a more solid answer as to where our people were taken too. He’ll be comforted by that knowledge, and so will we.”

♥♥♥♥♥

“How have things been?”

    You never really fear white until it becomes your cage. So Johnny was more then happy to leave the lab on assignment but he wasn’t so happy to return, unlike his superiors.

“The same, not much has changed, until now that is.”

“And the others?”

“They’re doing fine, although the little ones are starting to get anxious.”

“Kun, we’ve been over this, we have to do this.”

“But…” Kun looked around to make sure they were alone and lowered his voice. “How much longer do we have to do this?”

“Not long.”

“Johnny.”

“I’m serious. We made contact with EXO, we can-”

“We did not, we kidnapped their girl and dragged some of them here to RF. We are far from our goal.”

“We know where they are though, where to reach them. You think they’re not gonna come for the others? That’s where we come in to help.”

“Great first impression.”

“It wasn’t supposed to be this way, but we just have to adjust our plans.”

“Like always.”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll relay this to the others, we need to decide who will actually make contact.”

“Good, maybe we can discuss tonight.”

“I hope.”

    The two broke off then, going their separate ways. Kun went off to deliver some files. When he walked into the room he was taken aback to see you sitting on the table. You were quiet, dressed in white like everyone else, a number on your collar, eyes glassy.

“Hello… I-”

“She won’t respond to you.” The doctor said. “You have my files?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You’re excused.”

    Kun bowed awkwardly, sparing you another glance while walking out. A lot of questions ran through his mind but he wasn’t going to get any answers. As he walked away he noticed Chen walking in, more questions popping up. They had all been briefed on EXO, the members and their powers. As to why RF cared about them, it wasn’t disclosed but they had their own ideas on that. Regardless, the plan was that none of them were gonna stick around to find out.

“Oh, Taeil, where are you heading?”

“It’s about lunch time, so the cafeteria.”

“Right, the others should be there too.”

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“I’ll tell you on the way.”

    The cafeteria was pretty much divided in three sections. There were the regular workers, then those like Kun and his friends, who knew the company was more than it claimed to be, and then there were the superiors who knew everything and were doing who knows what with the test subjects they were given. Kun and Taeil sat with the others, glad to see things were quiet.

“We need to talk about our next step.”

“Our what?”

“Yuta, you know what. Johnny already volunteered and I’m certain Taeyong will go as well. We need a few others. So if anyone is interested, talk to Johnny.”

“Can I go?”

“It’s not safe for you to go too Jisung, or for Chenle. You guys should stay here where it’s safe.”

“That’s not true.”

“Well we won’t be here for much longer.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow, Kun, is that her?”

“What?” Kun turned his gaze to the door, as did the others at the table, seeing you walk in with your boys acting like an escort. “Oh, yeah, that’s y/n.”

“You never said she was so pretty.”

“Watch your mouth, Xiaojun. They’re protective of her as is, what do you think they’re like in this state.”

“Just saying.”

“Will we get to meet them?” Another asked. “Or any of them… while they’re here?”

“I doubt it, Haechan.” Jisung answered. “Maybe later… if we’re needed or something.”

“I don’t think any of us will be needed.” Kun added. “From what I saw earlier, we won’t be in the loop in regards to them.”

“Oh, what did you see?”

“I’m not entirely sure… but I didn’t like it. Just lay low and don’t cause any trouble.”

♥♥♥♥♥

    It was weird, being trapped in your own body. You were fully aware of your surroundings, but you weren’t in control of anything. It’s like you were strapped down, watching and feeling everything, but unable to free yourself. The worst part being the memories slowly seeping in. This place, it wasn’t your first time there and that realization alone filled you with fear. What went on was still a bit of a blur, but there was something new that made you all the more upset. It was the familiar faces.

    Not your boys, but the other people you had grown to call friends. Seeing Johnny, Taeyong, and Ten, it made your heart sink. They spared you a glance on occasion, speaking with other people, clearly in the know, but ultimately they did nothing. You didn’t want to believe it but they were part of all this. So you couldn’t help but wonder if they were ever your friends to begin with. It’s not like you could speak your mind and ask them, so you were left with your own thoughts.

    Of course feeling betrayed wasn’t the only bad thing going on. You were constantly on the move, going from one place to another. They’d draw blood, swab your mouth, ask you questions that’d you answer truthfully and robotically without hesitation. You were rarely without one of the boys, although a part of you wondered what was happening with them. Your memories only ever concerned you, so you didn’t know what they did or what kind of tests or experiments they were put through. There was something horrible in screaming when you weren’t entirely present, it was clearly instinctual, but it would stop so suddenly. The silent tears weren’t great either.

    The worst of it was at night when you were left alone with your thoughts and memories of the past and the days’ events. All you could do was remember the pain, remember what was done, and yet on the outside you slept with ease. You cried out, begging for help, but no one would hear you, those screams just echoed in your own mind. You wanted to go home, you wanted to escape with the others, but then guilt started eating you up, remembering this was your fault, or at least it felt that way to you. 

    The guilt gnawed at you because you knew they hated this place as much as you, and you brought them there. You deserve the pain, the punishment, but then you remembered their eyes. It wasn’t them, they suffered like you did, in their own ways. Another flash of pain came, feeling the hundreds of pricks of a needle on your neck. You were losing your mind to those memories, tears quietly sliding down your cheeks as you slept. You wanted out, you wanted to fix this, and that desire gave you strength. Another scream rang out in your head and then fell from your lips.

    You jolted awake, back with your own senses, quick to curl up and sob. There was so much still going on in your head, but you couldn’t stay there, if they found you that way in the morning it would only bring trouble. You sat up, taking a deep breath and composing yourself. You nearly fell over when you stood, all the aches in your body properly registering now. You bit your lip, determined to fight through the pain. You slowly opened your door, peeking out into the halls. It was late in the night, so it was mostly empty, maybe with the occasional guard walking around. 

    You stepped out of your room and quietly made your way down the hall, sticking to the walls and staying on alert. You were still drowsy and fighting off memories that you didn’t hear footsteps approaching. When you rounded a corner you ran into someone. If you were anywhere else you would scream, but you kept your lips shut tight, looking up at who was holding you, who saved you from falling. You didn’t recognize them, but you had seen them before and you knew they also weren’t the average staff member.

“You… you know Johnny…”

“Yes… you’re y/n right.” You nodded. “I’m Doyoung.”

“You need to help me get out of here… please…”

“I-”

“Please, please I need-”

“Y/n.”

    You froze, the way your name came from Xiumin’s lips frightened you. Without knowing tears fell down your cheeks. You’ve never been scared of them, not really, but this wasn’t them, it was a monster with their face. You closed your eyes for a moment, looking back at the man before you with desperate eyes.

“Please…”

“What are you doing up sweetheart? You should be resting.”

    Doyoung could see just how scared you were, you were shaking in his before him. He felt bad, but he knew things would only get worse if he tried anything. He hated this, having to play along, it had to stop.

“Y/n, come on, back to bed.”

    You noticed Chen approaching from behind Doyoung. You couldn’t just stand there anymore. You took Doyoung’s hand and ran down the empty hall. He surely knew the place better than you and could help, that was the plan anyway. When you ran off Xiumin and Chen glanced at each other, both disappointed by your choice, and calmly followed your path. Doyoung didn’t know what to say or do in this case, except follow, for the short while it lasted.

    You didn’t notice the floor beneath suddenly get iced over, followed by a strong gust of wind shoving you and Doyoung, causing you to slip and crash against the cold ground. The pain added to the aches you had all over. You started to feel colder, noticing ice growing around you. You whimpered, hearing footsteps getting closer, you groaned as you moved, trying to crawl away, only to see another pair of shoes in your vision. You slowly looked up to see Chanyeol looking down on you. You quickly dropped your head, more tears falling on the ice. 

“What are you doing?” Chanyeol asked. “It’s really late.”

    You looked back at Doyoung, knowing you were on your own, and that you shouldn’t have dragged him into this. You saw Chen and Xiumin approaching, followed by Sehun. It was over, you were screwed, but no one else needed to suffer for your mistakes.

“Let him go.” You said in a shaky breath. “He didn’t...I dragged him into this.”

Chanyeol glanced at the other boy. Doyoung was scared but didn’t show it. He knew about EXO, knew what they were capable of.

“Xiumin.” Chanyeol looked at his friend. “Let the boy go.”

    Xiumin nodded, the ice melting away from Doyoung. Chen and Sehun helped him up and told him to go, that they would take things from there, also apologizing for your actions. Doyoung glanced at you feeling sorry, but Chen’s smile was telling him to run. He nodded and headed off, too scared to look back.

    You were shaking from the cold, only parts of you covered in ice, you could barely move. A hand suddenly wrapped around your throat and lifted your head up. Chen was holding you, forcing you to look up at all of them. They all looked quite disappointed and concerned.

“I’m sorry.” You choked out. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” Chanyeol said.

“It’s… it’s not?”

“No. We shouldn’t have left you alone, we promised not to. Remember.”

You tried to pull away. “NO! No you didn’t make that promise! It wasn’t you!”

    Xiumin gently pet you, the ice spots growing, making you shiver more than before. You wanted to protest again but suddenly you were finding it hard to breathe, knowing Sehun wasn’t going to let you cause more trouble. He leaned down closer to you, trying to shush you. You knew what was coming, and for once you actually wanted to hear those words, except you weren’t getting off that easy. Chanyeol put his hand on Sehun’s shoulder, shaking his head at him. You were quick to put the pieces together, speaking with the bit of breath you had.

“No… no, please, I’m sorry, please!”

    Chanyeol glanced over at Chen and gave him the go ahead. You closed your eyes, feeling Chen’s other hand press against the side of your face. Before you could let out another plea of forgiveness you screamed out in pain. If you could move your body you would have reacted more violently to the jolt of electricity running through you. The only thing you could do was scream. You got some relief when it stopped, but you could barely focus, the cold and shock taking their toll.

“Stop… please… I’m sorry…”

    You were hit with another jolt, another scream ripped from your throat, then you were let go. Ice grew around your face, cooling the parts that were burned. You laid on the ice cold floor, being able to see your own breath, your tears becoming ice on your cheeks.

“You want this to stop?” Chen asked.

You slowly nodded your head. “Yes… please…”

“Xiumin.”

    The ice melted away but you were still cold. Chen pulled you into his lap, caressing your cheek. You flinched a bit from his touch, which you instantly regretted. Thankfully he showed you mercy and merely chuckled. You closed your eyes, snuggling up to Chen, wanting to hear the sweet words that would let you rest.

    Doyoung was relieved he was let go, but he didn’t go far. He stayed close and out of sight, hearing everything. He jumped when he heard you scream, starting to feel guilt over leaving you. When he heard footsteps he moved again, watching the four boys walk off, one of them carrying you. He needed to tell the others what happened, playing dumb wasn’t a good thing anymore. When he was clear he made his way out of the lab and to the dorm rooms. He and the others had actual rooms elsewhere, but he knew you and the boys stayed in the lab, which was certainly unsettling. He found the room he was looking for and burst in.

“Johnny, wake up.” He hissed. “Now!”

“Huh? Doyoung… what time is it?”

“What the hell are we doing!”

“What?”

Doyoung yanked Johnny out of bed. “Why are we here? What are we involved with!”

“Keep your voice down.”

“Start talking!”

“What happened? Why are you-”

“I don’t know what I just saw but… what are we doing here?”

“You know why we’re here.”

“Why are we still here?”

“We need information, we need to know what they’re doing.”

“What they’re doing is hurting that girl, not RF, but EXO.”

“What?”

“I saw… she… we need to get them out, we need to leave. RF is doing fucked up shit, we can ask EXO for more details, can we just leave now?”

“And go where?”

“Home!”

“With half of EXO? The order was to get her, but shit happened and we got some of them. Things got complicated but we can’t just go, not yet.”

“What else?”

“The rest of EXO maybe? We need to get things in order with them first, kidnapping their girl won’t sit well with them.”

“Then let’s do that.”

“How easy do you think that is? We need to get their attention and get past the hostilities first.”

“And what’s the plan there?”

“Tomorrow night I am gonna go back to that town. Taeyong, Lucas, and Ten were going to come with me, do you want to as well?”

“No. But the sooner we get out of here the better, so don’t fuck it up.”

“Got it, now get out of my room, and lay low? What the fuck were you even doing in the lab at night?”

“Just gathering some intel…”

“Okay, go to bed.”

♥♥♥♥♥

    Laying low was easier said than done. It was more about turning a blind eye to what was happening around them. Surely their superiors were heartless if they could go through with such things. Doyoung wasn’t the only one to notice how things changed with your arrival. Days after everyone was feeling awful, having seen something or heard something and just not having the heart to keep ignoring it. At least there was hope of getting out soon.

“Is everyone ready?” Johnny asked. “Cause I doubt this will be easy.”

“Let’s just do this.” Ten said. “How hard will it be?”

“Don’t jinx it.”

    With everyone ready, they held hands and Taeyong did his thing. In the blink of an eye they found themselves in an alley, back in the town Johnny had been in before. It had been night back where they came from, but here, it was late in the afternoon.

“So this is where you got y/n.” Doyoung said. “How do we find the rest of EXO?”

“We have to get their attention.” Johnny explained. “Surely they’re keeping an eye on this place. Ten, go to the hotel, see if you can get any info there, the rest-”

    The four were suddenly knocked back and crashed into the wall, except for Taeyong who teleported up to the nearby fire escape. He saw three boys in the entrance to the alley, and didn’t need introductions to know who they were.

“Where is she!” Kai teleported to Johnny and pinned him to the wall. “Where did you take her!”

“Can we… can we talk…”

“Answer me!”

    A wave of water suddenly appeared and got the other two boys on the floor, pinning them to the wall as well without getting a drop on Johnny or Kai. The water was just below their chin,  easily able to submerge them at a seconds notice. Taeyong couldn’t just sit back and watch, even though it was hilarious, so he teleported down and quickly grabbed Suho, bringing him up to the roof. By catching him off guard the water fell away, but DO quickly picked up the slack, keeping the other two pinned down.

“Please listen to us.” Taeyong was hoping to reason with Suho. “We’re not the bad guys.”

“I know who you work for, so that’s a lie.”

“I swear it’s-”

    Suho didn’t show mercy this time, trapping the other in a sphere of water for a moment before the boy teleported out, gasping for breath.

“We need your help!”

    Taeyong coughed up some water, keeping an eye on Suho. His words gave the other pause, so he used the bit of breath he had to continue.

“We’re not… RF…”

    Below Johnny was also trying to have a conversation with Kai, but like he said before, there was certainly a lot of hostility to get through first.

“Look, I’m sorry about what happened.”

“Sorry? Really?”

“It wasn’t supposed to go down that way.”

“I wonder why, DO, hold the others.”

“Wa-”

    In the blink of an eye Johnny was up in the air, falling with Kai. He screamed, grabbing Kai’s arm tightly.

“Get us back on the ground!”

“Talk or you go splat.”

“About what!”

“Where is she? And the others?”

“Suffering, please, we’re not the bad guys.”

“That’s not an answer!”

“I’m not with RF! We’re victims too! You don’t remember us but we’ve met before!”

“What?”

“Neo City, you defeated RF back on my home planet, you saved us, and then disappeared.”

“Did they return?”

“No! But do you think we can have this conversation on the ground?”

    Below Ten and Lucas were left to deal with the insane pressure that kept them to the wall. They both knew one wrong move with DO could end with broken bones.

“You… you wanna… do something… Lucas…”

“Like… what?”

“Escape? Did you forget… your power?”

“Oh yeah…”

“Don’t try anything.” 

    DO warned them but Lucas soon disappeared as well, reappearing behind DO and grabbing him. Ten was freed from his restraint and quickly ran over, grabbing the other boy.

“Calm down, and listen to us.”

    A moment later Kai and Johnny returned from the ground, followed by Taeyong and Suho coming down. No one seemed to be at each other’s throat anymore, which was good. They didn’t have the whole story, but they knew a conversation needed to be had.

“Kai, have Lay prepare something for our guests.” Suho ordered. “Then come back.”

“Will you be alright?”

“For now.”

    They didn’t have to wait too long before Kai returned and then they all went back to the house. Of course it wasn’t entirely a warm welcome, the guests being dropped into the garden and immediately being restrained. They weren’t happy but they couldn’t really react as the atmosphere seemed to calm them down.

“I thought we were gonna talk…” Johnny mumbled. “This ain’t it.”

“I know.” Kai said. “But we need to be careful.”

“RF or not you’ve been with them for a while.” Suho added. “So just to be cautious, we have a cleanser for you, drink it, and then we can talk.”

    Lay stepped up with some glasses, a blue liquid in each. The plants released their arms so they could take the glass and drink, none of them hesitated. It went down smoothly and the lack of a reaction seemed to please.

“You’re good. Now we can talk.”

    They all gather in the dining, a few apologies going around first for the rough start. The only EXO boy not present at the table was Baekyhun, for good reason. There was much to talk about, so it was best to just start at the beginning.

“Neo City… that was a long time ago…”

“Never really got to thank you.”

“We didn’t really meet.” Suho said. “So how do you even know about us?”

“You didn’t destroy everything when you defeated RF.” Taeyong explained. “We found some intel on you, and don’t worry, we didn’t share it with anyone. We took care of the real clean up after you left. Our home world, Neo Planet, it’s in pretty good condition. We kinda created our own group too, NCT.”

“How many of you are there?”

“23.”

“That’s a lot. And do you all have abilities?”

“For the most part. I think the little ones are still coming into their power though.”

“Still, how did you get here? Traveling to other worlds isn’t easy. And why are you looking for us?”

“Because we want to help.” Johnny said. “We know our planet isn’t the only place RF has corrupted. There are other worlds, like this one.”

“You want to take down RF?”

“Yeah. You helped our home, and-”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” Kai interrupted. “RF isn’t just some evil organization you can take down. Helping your planet, it’s the least we could do. RF follows us like a plague, we left to help you, and you come here and join their ranks? You think you can take them out from within?”

“We could try something, which is more than you’re doing. This place, it’s just your hideout, isn’t it?”

“It’s our home. It’s where we’re safe.”

“While RF corrupts the rest of this world? In case you forgot, they found your girl out in there all by herself. You’re lucky they didn’t snach her up when they found her.”

“But you eventually did and now we are here. If anything, you’ve done the opposite of help.”

“Enough.” Suho cut in. “Please, we shouldn’t fight among each other. We were never gonna be able to remain hidden forever, this just happened sooner than we would have liked, and in unexpected ways.”

“That’s an understatement.”

“Kai.”

“Regardless, we have to work together now.” Lay said. “We need to get our people back, and NCT has a way in. I assume you have some kind of plan.”

“We do.” Ten assured. “But I would like to say we don’t just want you guys to disappear again. We didn’t come looking for you just to offer our help, we want to know more. You say we know nothing about RF, I can admit to that. I don’t know what goes on in the lab, but I want to, I have to know the truth.”

“So there’s a catch to this?”

“It’s not a catch.” Taeyong stated. “We just want to have a proper conversation when none of us are in danger. Please.”

“Why did you even join RF?” DO asked. “It’s risky to put yourself back on their radar.”

“Back on our planet, what was left of RF, we discovered that they weren’t sending their data anywhere. We think these… branches, simply work towards a goal, and until they achieve that goal they’re on their own. The RF presence here has no idea we’ve met them before.”

“But they always know about us.”

“And I’d really like to know why.”

“A conversation for later. Now, your escape plan, care to share?”

“Of course.”

♥♥♥♥♥

    It goes without saying that this rescue would have a better chance of success if the rest of EXO didn’t get near that building. It’s too dangerous to risk their help, and NCT had accounted for that. By now they knew the layout of the lab, and had been gathering intel on security. The plan was a bit complicated by the fact this wasn’t just the original one person rescue and get out scenario. At least with EXO’s input things could be modified to work. They just needed a day to get the word around and prepare, it was best to get it done as soon as possible.

    The most important part was separating everyone, meaning this had to be done before lights out. Lay had provided them with a powder that when inhaled should snap the other EXO members out of their trance, but it wouldn’t work for you. No one wanted to go into detail as to why, simply stating that the others would help you out once they could, so they had to be careful around you until then. Besides all that, it should be easy to get out, it was just a matter of sticking to the plan, and doing things on time.

“Everyone knows the plan, so commence phase one.”

    The first part was cutting the power. Sure they could get into the main power system and cut it, but it would actually be easier to find Chen and have him do it. So that was phase one, Doyoung and Yuta were the ones in charge of finding him and killing the lights. It had always been important to keep their powers a secret while they remained under RF, but now it was time to blow their cover. Doyoung had previously gotten his hands on intel regarding Chen, so he knew exactly where to go in order to find him.

    There was no need to approach, as Doyoung could create illusions to draw him to them, and that he did. When they got Chen alone in a room he was quickly met with a face full of white powder. He coughed from the sudden mouth full of powder and collapsed to the floor. A moment later he was trying to calm his breathing. The duo had no reason to think something would go wrong, and they didn’t have time to just wait and find out. Doyoung got down and grabbed Chen’s shoulders, getting his attention.

“We don’t have time to explain, but long story short you’re in an RF base and we’re here to rescue you. The rest of EXO sent us and we need you to cut the power to this whole place.”

“Okay… okay…”

    Chen coughed a bit more before shoving the other aside and stumbling to his feet. He pressed his hands against the wall, sparks flying from his hands and then the lights flickered, eventually going out.

“Done…”

“That was fast.”

“Good. Now we commence phase two.” Doyoung said. “Sungchan, did you get that?”

“Yes sir.”

“Relay to the rest and move.”

    It was easy to keep in contact now that their telepath didn’t need to be on radio silence. Chen still seemed to be coming back to himself, but he provided a thumbs up when asked if he was good to move. With one back on their side, the mission was then to find other EXO members, you were the responsibility of another.

♥♥♥♥♥

“Y/n.”

    When the power went off you were with one of the scientists. She seemed concerned for a moment, but then the emergency power came on. In these cases all special subjects were to be moved to a secure location. That information wasn’t really secret. While heading to another part of the building you were stopped by Chanyeol and Johnny.

“We’ll take her from here.” Chanyeol said. “You’re dismissed.”

    The scientist didn’t question things, well aware of Chanyeol’s status within the lab. It made sense to you as well, but it was rather strange to see Johnny too, and not just because you were unsure of your feelings towards him. The two escorted you through the building, and you followed quietly. Everything seemed normal until you crossed paths with Xiumin.

“Ah, there you are… and who might you be?”

“Xiumin, we’re escort-”

“Johnny boy I recognize, read his file, but you… you’re not Chanyeol… so who are you?”

“Excuse me? Xiu-”

“For your information Chanyeol’s body temperature is much hotter than normal, courtesy of his fire powers. I know you’re not him, now, show yourself. I won’t ask again.”

    You knew something was weird, but you just thought it was simply the fact that the lab was having an electrical problem. There was no rebuttal from Chanyeol this time, and you saw him slowly morph into someone else.

“Ah… Jaehyun, right? That’s an interesting little secret you have there. I thought it strange that the power went out, with Chen being around and all, but I see this is no accident. What are you doing? Don’t tell me you’re planning an escape?”

“Xiumin, this isn’t you.” Johnny said. “We’re here to help you.”

“Help? All I see you trying to take what belongs to me.”

“You-”

“Angel, playtime.”

    You suddenly collapsed to the floor, shaking. Both boys were taken aback, unsure of what was happening. They got down to your side, and then you seemed to calm down. For a moment it seemed you were alright, and then a pair of wings exploded from your back, throwing the two away from you. A strange feeling overtook you, and then you fell to darkness. 

♥♥♥♥♥

    Xiumin watched the events unfold, rather excited to see the outcome. He walked towards Angel, kneeling down and grabbing their chin, catching a glimpse at the talons, and then seeing their black eyes. 

“You are much more beautiful in person.” He helped Angel to their feet, seeing the other two boys starting to rise as well. “Hm, Angel dear, take them down.”

    Johnny and Jaehyun were well aware that things had gone incredibly wrong. They didn’t want to abandon the plan, but they had to run.

“Doyoung report!” Johnny called out. “What’s your status?”

“Dealing with Chanyeol, what about you?”

“We were found out. It’s only a matter of time before this whole place goes on high alert. Evacuate as soon as possible.”

“What? We can’t just leave without everyone.”

“Sungchan, how many are out?”

“Taeyong got about a third of us out already, dropped them off at the rendezvous point. He’s due back any minute now.”

“Get out whoever you can, we-”

    Sirens began to go off, lights flashing red, their cover was totally blown now. Johnny knew then they weren’t all going to make it out, so he needed to make a decision. Although he didn’t get to voice it as he and Jaehyun suddenly crashed into someone. They both had their guards up immediately, only to see Yuta and Chen.

“Shit, are you okay?”

“What are you doing? Where’s Doyoung?”

“With Chanyeol.” Chen explained. “We thought it best to split up and look for the others.”

“Well Xiumin is right on our ass.” Jaehyun said. “And y/n, but she’s not-”

    An ear piercing scream suddenly had them all in pain. Johnny looked over to see that they had been caught up to. You were screaming, Xiumin behind you, watching the events unfold. Johnny wasn’t used to his own powers being thrown back at him, and he could know now what it felt like. Yuta was the one who managed to act, using his telekinetic powers to throw you into Xiumin, shutting you up in the process.

“Jaehyun, you take Chen, and get out.” Yuta said. “Go.”

“What?”

“Johnny and I will stay.”

“But-”

“You can’t fight, and someone needs to get Chen out, he’s a priority.”

    Chen wasn’t listening. Instead looking at you in shock, in horror. He had only ever heard whispers, as Baekhyun never allowed the conversation to happen, so this was his first encounter with Angel.

“Jaehyun, leave!”

    Yuta pushed Jaehyun and Chen away, out of sight. As much as he hated this, Jaehyun knew what was important. He stood and helped Chen up, the two running from the others. Johnny and Yuta regained their senses and stood, the area suddenly becoming colder.

“I offer you one chance to surrender.” Xiumin stated. “I suggest you take it.”

“No thanks.”

“Very well then, Angel, get them.”

♥♥♥♥♥

“Who’s still here?” Doyoung questioned. “Call off.”

“Jaehyun here, Johnny and Yuta remained to buy us time.”

“What! Why?”

“Xiumin and y/n had us, we all couldn’t keep running. I’m with Chen, need evac now.”

“Me too.” Mark added. “I haven’t found anyone else.”

“Okay, is that all?”

“What about Ten and Taeil?” Taeyong asked. “I haven’t seen them.”

“They’re not responding here… Sungchan?”

“I… I don’t feel them.”

“Shit, that’s not… Taeyong get Jaehyun and Chen”

“No, wait, what about-”

    Chanyeol wasn’t in on the conversation, but going by Doyoung’s expressions, things weren’t going well. He wanted to ask, but he wasn’t sure he should.

“Chen’s out, and you’re next.”

“What about the rest of your people?”

“We’re working on it. You’re the priority.”

“I have a lot of questions.”

“Save them for later.”

    It was a miracle that Mark had found Doyoung, quickly running to the older boy. He was out of breath, but relieved to not be alone anymore.

“You really haven’t heard from Taeil or Ten?”

“No… I’m worried.”

“As you should be.”

    A wave of ice swept across the walls, and everyone turned to the source. Xiumin was more than happy to stumble upon the little group. Chanyeol was more than ready to fight, but was taken aback by seeing you.

“Angel… no, no you fucken didn’t!”

“Beautiful, isn’t she. I see why Baekhyun doesn’t like to talk about her, doesn’t want us to know how incredible she is.”

“Xiumin!”

“You should see what she did to the others. Don’t worry, they’re not dead, they’ve been collected.”

“You-”

“Don’t.” Doyoung grabbed Chanyeol. “You can’t fight or get near.”

“He-”

“We need to get out.”

    Multiple copies of Doyoung  and the others appeared, getting them out of sight and providing some cover.

“Taeyong! Taeyong respond!”

    It only made sense that once alarms went off Sungchan went back and forth with Taeyong, meaning there was no communication for now.

“Cute, but you can’t fool me.”

    A ball of ice came flying through the illusions, hitting Chanyeol and throwing him back. Mark and Doyoung didn’t have a chance to react as ice crept up and encased their legs, slowly climbing up. In that moment Taeyong appeared with Sungchan, seeing the situation they had walked into, but it was far too dangerous to stay.

“Take Chanyeol!” Doyoung yelled. “And don’t come back!”

“What about-”

    Another ball of ice broke through the illusions, knocking Sungchan down. There was no time to argue, and despite not wanting to leave, the choice was out of his hands. Taeyong got Sungchan and Chanyeol, disappearing.

“Self sacrifice, how cliche.”

#exo #suho #lay #xiumin #baekhyun #chen #chanyeol #d.o #sehun #kai #kim junmyeon #zhang yixing #kim minseok #byun baekhyun #kim jongdae #park chanyeol #do kyungsoo #oh sehun #kim jongin #exo au #exo scenarios #nct #doyoung #johnny #jaehyun #taeyong #sungchan #mark #yuta #ten