#his old clothes were so boring it was like a blazer a tie and some jeans. not in this good gnc household now honey

[a-supernatural-writer]

hcs for poly! tlb with a fem! s/o who’s style is dark academia and is really blunt/logical and smart. she basically gives off a ‘mysterious, quiet, dark, critical’ vibe (she also doesn’t really know how to handle people who are extremely emotional and she doesn’t know how to soothe someone. she’s just really oblivious/clueless when it comes to others feelings). i’m so sorry if what i requested doesn’t make sense or if it was too much. i am seriously incapable of writing anything without making it look like an essay lmao. love your work btw 💕✨

Dark Academia Fem! S/O 

Poly Lost Boys x Fem reader

I had so much fun writing this! I love the dark academia aesthetic! And it made perfect sense and it wasn’t too much! Having a lot actually helps me expand and write more so thank you. And I’m the same, once I have an idea, I write a lot, so you’re all good! And awww!!! Thank you!!! 💗💗✨✨ I really appreciate it! I hope you enjoy!

Okay, so you are very different compared to the large number of characters on the boardwalk. Your style consisted of button shirts, sweaters or turtle necks, dress pants or a plaid pleated skirts, cardigans or waistcoats, oxford shoes or even wire framed glasses if you wore them for seeing or just for the look. 

To say that you caught the boys attention would be an understatement. You seemed to stand out amongst the crowd and they became curious. You were a mystery to them and they love the challenge. 

Somehow, someway, after days or weeks later, you became good friends which soon lead to you dating four trouble making punks. It was tough on both parts, but it happened, and hey, you weren’t complaining. 

You were very blunt when you first met them, not really interested in them and more or less interested in the book in your hands. It took a lot of “accidental” run ins to even get you to hang out with them. 

You slowly opened up when they offered to take you out for dinner at a local diner. They’re constant joking soon had you letting out small, almost whisper-like giggles and tiny smiles that sent them into a frenzy. 

When you would start talking about yourself, your ideas of fun were different from theirs. You liked museums, opera houses, bookstores and going to theaters to see plays. The games you played were chess and cards, and the music you listened to was old. You were pretty sure they thought you were boring but you actually peaked their interest. 

After a while of being friends with them, they asked you out. You liked them and the only logical step was to see if you liked them the same way they liked you was to date them, so you said yes. 

In general, them having a girlfriend with a 1940s/1950s dark prep look was fun. David and Dwayne like it the most. Paul next, then Marko. 

David actually really likes picking out your clothing on most days. You have an extensive collection of clothing with material from cashmere to linen, all the colors consisting of browns, black, cream and even a little dark green. 

His favorite thing to put you in is trench coats. Doesn’t matter what color it is, he just likes seeing you in them. Also, there are a handful of times that he has MADE you wear his trench coat. Yeah it almost swimmed on you, but he thought it made you look cute and it fit in perfectly with your look. 

Dark academia isn’t only your style, but it’s your way of life. David is the one that plays chess with you. You had to reteach it to him and pretty soon, the two of you had your own little set up in the cave that was always ready for a game of chess. 

David is sort of like you… in a way when it comes to others feelings. But deep down he knows that he really likes you and tries to show it the best he can. He took you to a theater to see a play that you were constantly talking about and so he took you on a date. You being you, didn’t realize that’s what it was until he told it straight to your face. Let’s just say you were speechless for the next hour. 

Also, when it’s just the two of you, deep inside the cave where your nest is, classical music is playing from your record player. It could be Beethoven, Tchaikovsky or Mozart. Whoever it is, David is the one that will listen to it with you the most. I think he really enjoys classical music and he enjoys it even more if the two of you are cuddling in your bed. 

Occasionally Dwayne would join the two of you. You would be sitting in between David’s legs as Dwayne sat in between yours, his head leaning back against your chest. It was like a cuddle pile… cuddle train?? Whatever you wanted to call it, it was cuddling while the three of you relaxed listening to classical music. And it was darn cute. 

Dwayne loves listening to you go on and on about any books you were reading at the moment. Whether or not it was nonfiction or even about any type of history. He was down. He lived through a lot and he knew about half of the stuff you gushed on about, but for some odd reason, it never bored him when you talked about it. 

He would be the one to get you new books, leaving you sweet little notes tied to them. Of course you thought it was just him being nice and thanked him for it without thinking there was any romantic meaning behind it. Yeah he was one of your boyfriends but it never really crossed your mind that way. He would just shake his head at your obliviousness and give you a small peck on the lips. 

Don’t ask him why, but his favorite look on you is a light cream colored blouse with a plaid skirt and Mary Jane shoes. Dwayne is a leg man so… he’s very happy when decide to show off some skin if you decide not to wear knee-socks or stockings with it. Even if you did wear them, he would still be attached to your side the entire night. 

Like David, Dwayne would bring you out to a lot of places that were opened late at night. If there was an art exhibition in town or even a museum that was open late, just say the word and he will happily drive you on his bike. Heck, David might even tag along. 

Also, late night bookstore dates… oh my heart, it’s too sweet it hurts. There are times that he does have to throw you over his shoulder when the bookstore is closing and you're pretty much refusing to leave. When he does that, you just stay frozen over his shoulder, not knowing if you should be blushing or cursing at him for carrying you like a sack of potatoes. 

If anything, you and Dwayne connect very well. You’re naturally very quiet and so is he. Not much is said between you two but there's a mutual understanding that can’t be explained. While the others are out causing trouble, you and him are on the sidelines watching hand in hand or your reading and he's just staring at you as you do so. 

Paul and Marko kind of give you whiplash. They’re loud and rowdy and definitely 100% opposite from you. But they interested you. They had a very chaotic outlook on life which made you ask many questions. 

Paul found your look sexy. He’s horny and you give off preppy school vibes, he’s living for it 24/7. Constant teasing of you giving him ‘private lessons’ which results with you whacking a book against the back of his head. But it doesn’t stop the reddening of your ears which doesn’t make him stop.  

This man is also your designated jewelry expert. You only wear some accessories and they're very simple. So you are very surprised when Paul finds you jewelry that is your style and collects it for you. You like leather watches, guess what, he’s got it for you. You want some fancy victorian looking brooches, he’s got that too. Simple rings with a single jewel in the middle, expect constant ‘will you marry me’ jokes, but he gets you the best.

Also, he’s not overly big into your music selection. He does try to get you into his type of music, which you only like very few and far between. But when you do get him to listen to your type of music, it’s only if you agree to listen to his music the next night. You guys come up with a system and decide to switch every few nights. 

Each of the boys have their favorite look on you and Paul's is when you wear a button-up of any color with a simple black tie, a pencil skirt and a pair of Dr.Marten boots. He especially likes the tie… for reasons. God damn it, you know the reasons, get out of here. 

He’s a very affectionate boy and he finds your looks over confusion some of the cutest shit he’s ever seen. Probably the first one to tell you that he loves you and you honestly like glitched out. Did you feel the same way? Yes, but poor little thing you doesn’t say it right away, but Paul knows that you aren’t really used to saying things like that without warming up to it. Which is okay. He knows even if you don’t say it. 

He definitely steals one of your blazers to put pins on it. Marko helps, putting a few patches on it that they both know you would like. It’s the one item that stands out in all of your clothing and you will wear it if they ask you to. 

Marko definitely thinks the look is cute and it suits you very well, but why no color?! You wear dark colors but nothing bright like the colors that are on his jacket. He tries to slip in some colorful clothing into your everyday look, it never goes as planned but you give him an A for effort. 

He loves how dark you can be at times though. You want to go to a local graveyard just because? Sure! Let’s go! He’s your designated graveyard buddy. You have many date nights there, looking at all the different gravestones and finding it interesting when you jot down some names in one of your notebooks. 

Speaking of notebooks, you have many of them. They were filled with notes from books you’ve read, real life observations or even just some random poetry and short stories that you wrote. Marko would go through them a lot and even sometimes draw little doodles or rough sketches that were thought up from your writings. 

When you spend nights down at the Boardwalk, your go to drink isn’t a slushie or a milkshake or even a soda. It’s coffee or tea. Yeah, and only Marko knows your drink orders by heart. None of the others seem to remember them correctly which you thank them for trying but Marko has got them all beat. 

Marko likes seeing you in sweaters and in your trousers or linen shorts with chelsea boots. If anything, when the two of you are alone, just wearing a knit sweater and shorts were perfect for him. He likes how cozy and warm you look. He’s very happy when he cuddles you and you are warm. 

Now when they tell you that they’re vampires, you think that they’re joking. Vampires aren’t real, they’re a work of fiction. Yes there was a real man named Dracula, but there was no way that they were actual vampires. 

Then they showed you hard proof and then there was no denying it at that point. Instead of running away, you were fascinated. You wanted to understand your boyfriends vampire ways that lead to you conducting extensive research and a notebook dedicated to them. 

They showed you everything about them, how they feed, to which you didn’t bat an eyelash of watching them feed one night. You were one morbid chick but they saw that as a plus that you didn’t react. You had graveyard dates for crying out loud, nothing really surprised them at that point.

Flying came next and they had a lot of fun showing you just how high they could go with you in their arms. You never screamed at the height, you were too caught up in seeing the overhead view of the town. You could get used to seeing a view like that every night.  

Then came the other things; how they slept before you came along, what actually hurt them and what didn’t. There was one time that you stared at their vampire faces for hours because you were taking notes on how their facial features changed. 

Soon you had to stock up on more turtlenecks because of the many bite marks they would leave behind from feeding on you if the weather was bad one night. It wasn’t tough adapting to their occasional feeding. A lot of your clothing already covered up your skin so it was easy to hide from people on your nights out. 

Not too long after, they popped the question. Would you want to be a vampire? Live forever, never grow up? Be with them for all eternity? You didn’t really need to think about it for too long, you knew what your answer was and so did they even if you didn’t say it out loud. You loved your boys and not much would change.

When you did change, it was entertaining for them to watch. You soon started taking down notes about your progress, comparing and contrasting your experience to their own. 

To the eyes of many, you became even more dark and mysterious. You had an aura around you that drew people in, it’s what got you your four vampire boyfriends, only now, it brought in your meal for the night.

#the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #vampire #gay vampires #the lost boys x reader #the lost boys x female reader #female reader #female s/o #the lost boys headcanon #the lost boys s/o #david x reader #paul x reader #marko x reader #dwayne x reader #lost boys david #the lost boys paul #lost boys dwayne #lost boys marko #request #had a lot of fun writing this #dark acadamia aesthetic #dark academia female reader #poly lost boys x reader #poly lost boys

[another-fantasy-world]

hi could you please make another alice cullen x fem!reader?? i really really love your last one you made, it was so beautiful <3

||AN|| Thank youuu! I'm happy you enjoyed my last one, also, thank you for requesting!

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Pairing: Alice Cullen x Fem! Reader

Summary: Alice with a human girlfriend who’s more vampire-like than her.

Warnings: None? Fluff. Happy Couple.

Word Count: 2,084 words

GIF isn’t mine

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You were always the night owl, lived off coffee and good books and you only wear dark colors. Your routine includes waking up at 10 pm, Cooking and eating your dinner at approximately 11:30 pm, Studying until 6 am, Taking a shower, Make your coffee, and be at school at 7:00 am where you meet up with you too-bright-and-jolly girlfriend, Alice Cullen. After school you then either head home to your own house, or to the Cullens household, either way you crash into anything soft and just ultimately pass out, and your cycle repeats. Sometimes your girlfriend would join you in studying even if she didn’t need it, Sometimes you’d do other things with your girlfriend, some of the things you do aren’t appropriate for a house full of vampires with super hearing, and not to mention her nosy brother who had the ability to read minds. 

“Get out of the way before I pummel you to the ground asshole.” You grumbled to the guy who’s blocking your way and was staring at your girlfriend like she’s a piece of meat. You hated that but you couldn’t do anything. One, pretty sure it’s illegal to kill someone even if you’re thinking about all the ways you could and Two, you miss you girlfriend’s cold hand holding yours.

You see him shiver before grabbing his things and scrambling away, his goons hot on his tail. 

“You have the most creative mind I have ever come across. Really? Using his blood as paint after you use gamma rays to blow up his uhm. Yeah. Where would you even get gamma rays?” Edward scrunches his face as they all approach you.

“Pretty sure Carlisle would hook me up with some.” You smirked then kissed your girlfriend’s forehead, You held her hand in yours as she giggled, getting out of her trance like state.

“Carlisle denied.” She kissed your cheek before dragging you inside the school, where they all separated like the goddamn sea in that one bible story.

Safe to say, you were pretty feared in the whole town. Socially isolated, always has a cup of coffee in hand, dark marks under your eyes, a blank looks often settles on your face,always had earphones in, glared at people who made your family uncomfortable, scared people without trying and a student could’ve sworn he saw you drink someones blood which he says was inside your coffee cup. It was beetroot juice since you ran out of coffee but needed something hot to drink, so you made beetroot juice, with lots and lots of sugar. You were dubbed as a vampire or a witch, which was hilarious considering your girlfriend is a vampire. A bright, happy, sparkling vampire who doesn’t sleep in coffins whatsoever. 

“Have a good day baby, see you at lunch.” Alice kissed your cheek before bouncing in her classroom followed by Emmett who winked at you and Rosalie who raised her brows at you and told you to behave.

“I always behave!” You argued with a small pout on your lips, barely noticeable but Rosalie just smirks before walking gracefully into the room, sitting in between Emmett and Alice who just shooed you away. 

“It’s never a good day.” you whispered while walking away, fully knowing that they could hear you.

Lunch came so slow that by the time you sat at your usual spot, you already had thoughts on murdering your history teacher who ‘unintentionally’ spat at your face and drizzled her spit on your face like a waterfall.

“It’s only been half a day Y/LN, You’ll get through it.” Rosalie slides her tray of food over to you while petting your head.

“i don’t understand why you choose to go through this over and over again.” You groaned, laying your head on Alice’s shoulder. They just laughed and proceeded to talk about things that you don’t even bother to listen to.

“You’re coming over today right?” Alice asked you with that bell like voice that you so loved

“Hmm? Oh yeah, Cuddles?” You whispered to her, internally groaning at how soft you’ve become for your girlfriend. 

“Yes please. You’re warm.”

“And you are freezing cold.” You retorted, stealing some of her fries

“It comes with the package. Now come on, I’ll walk you to your room.” She pats you head while moving away, packing her things. Which low-key made you whine.

“But I always escort you to your room.” You complained

“That’s true, but I figured you wouldn’t be opposed to change.” She smiled, offering her hand which you took.

“Edward?” 

“Nope. Not telling you. I am not going on another shopping spree with that little devil of yours.” He sped walked away, dragging Bella with him

“I think you traumatized him real bad, Ali.” You chuckled

“Good.” She exclaimed

12 midnight, and you just woke up to Alice holding you while reading a book, She smiles at you before tapping her lips, asking for a kiss. You shook your head no, trying to get out of her arms to brush your teeth.

“Nope, kisses first before brushing.” She grips you tighter

“Eww. Morning breath. Alice please!” She just grins before showering your face with kisses.

“There. You can go now, Esme just finished your dinner.” She beamed at you, pushing you into the large bathroom that she has before sitting on the sink.

“Uhm...” You stare at her, confused

“What?” 

The both of you took an hour long shower, you didn’t even need to shower, Alice just persuaded you into doing so. Earning you different looks from different vampires the moment you walked down the stairs.

A suggestive smirk from Rosalie and a laughing Emmett A smirking Jasper A confused Bella with a disgusted looking Edward A smiling Esme holding a bowl of food  And lastly, A laughing Carlisle.

“Oh my God.” You groaned, walking to the dining room, thanking Esme for the food. 

“Really Y/N?” complained Edward who’s cuddling a still confused Bella

“What? Just because you decide to wait until marriage does not mean I have to.” You smirked, winking at Edward who would be blushing if he was human.

“Don’t talk while your mouth is full.” Scolded Esme who’s also trying to keep her laugh in

“Yes Mom. Anyways, Bella I love you, but you look like you’re about to shut down and ready to be pawned like an old computer.” You told her, biting into a chicken leg

“i’ll take her home.” Edward says, grabbing his keys and waits for Bella.

“Why is she here anyways” Grumbled Rosalie, who everyone ignored while you just tapped her head

“Let’s play chess when you get back!” You shouted after him

You finish your food quickly and washed your plates, much to the distaste of Esme, leading your giggling short girlfriend to the couch beside Jasper.

“Jasper~ Wanna watch documentaries of wars and judge everything they did wrong?” You ask Jasper who’s nodding at your request. Alice plopping herself on your lap as she stares at you laughing and smiling with her family.

She’s really happy to have found you the way she did, She reminisced the time when the two of you first met. You were browsing racks and racks of clothes, taking black colored blouses, shirts and button-ups that are your size before walking into a dressing room. While you were in the room, she started to have a vision about the two of you together, having dates and you carrying her shopping bags in this same store, making her all giddy. She was with Rosalie at that time, who just stared at her with a look of slight confusion as she basically bounced to you. You at first was taken aback that someone was actually talking to you, and it was a cute girl at that. Alice greeted you with a smile and a hello before handing you a green blazer and tie, telling you emerald green compliments your eyes and outfit before paying for what you were buying, writing her name and number on the receipt, leaving you dumbfounded at the store

At first she thought that the both of you wouldn’t work out, especially because of all the chaos that recently happened to her family and leaving forks. But you made the effort of always texting her little notes and telling her how your day was, even if she didn’t reply, slowly she felt herself fall more in love with you, letting herself reply and indulge in the visions that she had that involved you. Once she told her family about you, they were a bit skeptical, especially since Carlisle tended to your knuckle wounds one too many times. But upon seeing the love sick look on both your eyes and the loud complaining of Edward at how sickeningly cute your thoughts were of each other, they eventually accepted you as one of their own despite being human. 

And now she stares in awe as you spent about 2 hours criticizing documentaries with Jasper before Edward comes home, and when he did, you played a couple rounds of chess (You always lost, which made Edward laugh every time.) before she decided that she’s bored with you losing to her brother every round and just decided to pick you up and dash to her room. 

“What was that for love?” You ask her when she settled herself in your arms

“I just. I was bored and I realized that it’s been too long since we cuddled.”

“It’s literally been 4 hours since I woke up bumblebee.” You ran your hand through her hair

“I missed you. 4 hours is too long.”

“Awe. I missed you too. Want to pick up where we left off on How to Kill a Mockingbird?” You ask her

“Yes please, I love hearing your voice.” She puts her face on the crook of your neck as you read to her, one of your hand intertwined with hers.

Even though she can’t fall asleep anymore, she loves the way your voice sounds, it calms her down and she could easily compare the “peace” she feels right now to the “peace” she could remember feeling when she was asleep. She really did love you and she doesn’t hesitate to let you know. In multiple various ways. 

Like now, she cut off your reading when her soft lips touched yours. You immediately let go of the book to hold her face lovingly as you put all your feelings into the kiss like you always do. You always felt like your words are never enough, so you always try to express your feeling through physical affection.

As if remembering you need your air, she slowly pulls away, her forehead touching yours as you catch your breath.

“I love you” she whispers, kissing your nose

“I love you too.” You smiled, pecking her lips

Your moment was then ruined when Emmett started banging his fists on the door, loudly exclaiming that you all have to get ready for school. You growled lowly, rolling your eyes.

“Alright! Geez.” You grumpily picked up the book that was tossed to the floor before walking to Alice’s closet where you also keep some of your clothes in...

Only to see that they weren’t there.

“Uhm Alice? Darling? Where are my clothes?” You ask her

She walks to where you are, peeking in slightly before pecking your lips.

“Oops. Accidentally sent all them to your house. Guess you have to wear my clothes then.” She smirked at you, pulling out a lemon yellow trench coat, a rosy pink turtleneck and hot pink pants with a blue belt.

“Baby, Alice. Love. Darling. Bumblebee. Please don’t do this to me.” You pleaded but she just shook her head, handing you the clothes before threatening you with no kisses and cuddles for a week if you refuse.

Your shoulders sag with defeat as you change into the clothes Alice gave you, pouting while walking down the stairs of the Cullen Household. Alice smiles brightly as she hooked her arm around yours. Chuckles and giggles erupted the moment they saw you which made you grumble and murmur underneath your breath as you sip your cup of coffee made by Esme.

“You-” 

“Not a word.” You growled out, blushing furiously as you laughing girlfriend holds your hand while walking through the halls of Forks High school. 

Your girlfriend can be annoying at times, add that to her chaotic family, but you would never trade it for anything. Ever.

#twilight #twilight fanfiction #Alice Cullen #alice x reader #alice x you #alice cullen x reader #alice/you #cullens x reader #anon #anon asks

[asteriismos]

politics - jacob thrombey

authors note : pls listen to ‘tear you apart’ by she wants revenge while reading this literally. I hope this is at least consistent i did not proofread.

warning(s) : smut, swearing, degrading stuff

words : 3.4k

summary : you’re the liberal, bernie sanders lover at your prep school and jacob is the conservative nazi. the day of your schools political rally each of you finally get rid of that underlaying tension between you two. 

“and oh my god he does this thing with his tongue and it just-”

“jesus, holly, we’re supposed to be talking about the rally,” you said to your friend, giving her daggers when you glanced at her. it was a day until the rally your private school, buxton prep, had every four years for the presidency. 

in usual democratic, liberal fasion, you were rallying for bernie sanders. since you were a senior this year you got to run the whole project, which was obviously more work than you thought it would be, but then again it would look good on college applications. it also got you out of going to the boring classes you didn’t want to go to. all you had to do was raise your hand and say you needed to do something for the rally, and the teacher would dismiss you like it was nothing. 

when you were a little freshman four years ago during the previous election, you were a part of the democratic team as well. though at that time you were just a little fourteen year old, so the seniors and juniors basically made you their lackey. you got coffee for them, baked so many cookies, and went on too many food runs you lost track of the number. you also made so many signs your fingers bled from the amount of paper cuts you got. 

overall, you were very happy that you didn’t have to do that this year. call it hazing, but it made sense that the freshman were tasked with doing all that stuff. 

at your school, which was too preppy it made rival schools want to throw up, the freshman were at the bottom of the food chain. and you had worked really hard to be the senior that you were now. you were popular, always having a group of lackeys, and had one of the best grades in your entire class. 

“. . . sorry y/n, but i am working, look at these signs,” holly said, holding up the sign she was working on. it was a nice sign. holly was purposely tasked with doing the designs because she wanted to be an art major, and she was just a sophomore so you didn’t feel bad about telling her she needed to make fifty. 

you gave her a feigning proud smile, nodding your head. “okay, whatever you say. who are you talking about anyways?”

holly looked up from her work, a blush splaying across her face. “no one, don’t worry about it, it was a one time thing.” 

her eyes, however, gave it away. they looked past you and right at the group of boys who you despised. well, some of them were good, but they were led by someone who you fucking hated it made your blood boil.

dressed in the boys uniform of your school, a dark blue sweater with a white collar popped out and black dress pants, was jacob thrombey. he was talking to some of the other boys in the senior class, motioning with his hands while he talked expressively. you looked back at holly with wide eyes, realizing that jacob was the person that she had been talking about. 

“you did not sleep with jacob thrombey,” you said, mouth agape with shock. 

holly laughed nervously. “like i said, it was a one time thing! it was at that party you said you were going to go with the group to and you never showed up. i was horny i don’t know.” 

“oh, that party, right,” you said with a shrug. you said that you would meet your group of friends at the party that colin ( another boy of the thrombey group ) was hosting this past weekend. but then the more you thought about it, the more you didn’t want to go because getting wasted on a saturday night and possibly ending up in bed with anyone from that group did not sound like a fun time. plus you wanted to take a bath and watch netflix, have a little relaxing night. “still . . . sleeping with the enemy?”

you tuned out holly’s excuses, instead searching your bag for the flyers that you thought you had put in there that you printed in the library earlier. they weren’t there, you probably just forgot to take them and left them in the library by the printer. you groaned, excusing yourself from the group and walking out of the cafeteria. 

your black dress shoes clanked against the smooth tile of the hallway. you anxiously pulled down your dark blue and black checkered skirt so that nothing you didn’t want showing was showing. the skirts were already short enough, which was a little sexist on the schools part, but it was your uniform. there was nothing that you could really do about it. 

the library was unlocked, thank god. you turned the lights on and walked in, making your way to the back to the printers. once you got there you saw your flyers sitting there where they had been left by you in second period. 

soft footsteps echoed closer to you and you turned around, seeing jacob walking over to the printers, phone in hand. suddenly the other printer next to you started up, signaling that he was printing something too. probably his own posters. 

“hey y/n,” he greeted, glancing at you and then leaning against the table, fingers tapping against the wood. 

you scoffed. “thrombey. following me?”

“no, I know this is going to be a dent in your little rich girl complex, but the world doesn’t revolve around you. i’m printing stuff for the rally,” he replied. of course he was.

jacob was running the donald trump campaign for the rally. making you hate him even more than you already did. the way that he acted like no one else in the world mattered except himself made you want to rip your hair out, and the fact that he had the audacity to act like you were the entitled one. 

instead of getting political with him ( because that would be happening all day tomorrow ), you looked at him and said, “could you maybe stop fucking my friends?”

jacob looked at you quizzically. “what do you mean?”

“holly said you hooked up with her at that party, could you maybe not fuck my friends? or if you’re going to hook up with them at least stop hooking up with sophomores. i know they’re easy and can’t see how much of an asshole you are but seriously. gross,” you scoffed. 

“are you jealous?”

you squinted at him. “no, i’m not fucking jealous. i just don’t want you to hook up with her again and then she comes crying to me because you wanted to do knife play or something.” 

jacob only laughed, taking the pile of flyers that finished printing. “why do you think i’m such a sadist?”

“because we all know those hand marks on carissa’s neck last year weren’t just a coincidence after you hooked up with her.”

he didn’t answer, instead shrugging his shoulders and watching away. you sighed, realizing that you were never going to get him to listen to anything you said ever. he was too much of an ass, luckily soon enough you never would have to see him again after you graduate. 

-

today was the day of the rally, and you were more than excited. the only problem was that you were stressed out of your mind trying to get everything set up in your large booth. everyone was either setting up the blue cookies that had been baked or getting the pins ready to hand out with sanders printed on them in large blue letters. 

“where are the shirts?” you asked one of your helpers, giving her a condescending look. “don’t tell me you left them in mrs. prescott’s classroom.”

she had. fucking god. 

you shook your head and turned on your heel, walking away from your booth and leaving someone else in charge while you were gone. you turned the corner and made your way into the big classroom. 

“what the hell are you going here?” a male voice asked. it was jacob, who was looking in a box that had your name on it. it was the box with the shirts. 

you walked over to where he was and grabbed the box away from him. “what are you doing with my shirts?”

“just looking, shitty design,” he said. 

you scoffed. “you’re an ass you know that? no one actually likes you, you have no respect from anyone but your little meathead jocks.” you meant to get him mad, but the look he gave you realized that he was in a more angry mood than he usually is.

“you think you’re such a tough bitch,” jacob yelled at you, pushing you back with such force you felt your stomach drop. his hands came to your shoulders and pushed you again, until you were pressed all the way up against the wall. your shoulder blades dug against the cold concrete, back of your head hitting against it. “you think that you’re so fucking entitled,” he went on, his body capturing yours in a hold so you couldn’t squirm out. 

your hands came to his chest, trying your best to push him away from him. his arms were pressed against the wall, still trapping you. in a leap of faith, you looked up into his piercing green eyes and gave him a smirk. “yeah? and what are you going to do about it, thrombey? teach me a lesson?” 

a sadistic smile came across his face, which made you instinctively press your thighs together, realizing how wet you actually were just looking at him, just feeling how close he was to your body. 

“you’d like that wouldn’t you? for me to teach you a lesson, fuck you until you can’t stand,” he hissed, his head ducked down and pressed hot kisses against your neck. his teeth grazed along that sweet spot and you gasped, your hands now balling up into fists on his chest. jacob laughed against your neck, using his tongue to lick a clean stripe all the way up your neck to the edge of your jaw. “amazing how much of a needy bitch you actually are. not really that tough, are we?”

“fuck you,” you said in a weak voice, feeling his hips grind against your own. he laughed again at your weak attempts to savor the last bit of dignity you had left in you, even though your own body was betraying your mind. your brain was going haywire, not knowing if you were going to push him all the way off of you and leave, or if you were going to give into the temptation. 

the latter ended up winning and you succumbed into his touch, pulling him by his shirt to kiss you. the second his lips landed on yours his tongue slipped into your mouth, fighting with your own and ultimately winning in the little power play you had going on with him. 

he pulled off your shirt, leaving you in nothing but your bra and skirt that was being hiked up by his other hand. you worked aimlessly on his own clothing, pulling off the dark blue blazer and only being left with his white collared button up undershirt to be in between the skin of both of your chests. your hands came up to take off his tie and get the buttons undone, but his own hands grabbed your wrists, tutting condescendingly. 

“that’s not how this is going to go, princess,” jacob said, pulling your hands to his belt of his black dress pants. “did you really think that i was going to let you be in control? i know that you’re a brat, but i didn’t think that you were dumb.”

you whined at his words, hating that his degrading words turned you on even more. his eyes motioned down to the ground and you quickly realized what he wanted. jacob stepped away from you enough to make you slink to your knees, hands still connected to the waistband of his pants. 

deciding to play the brat card with him, you looked up at him and said, “what do you want me to do, jacob?” it was in the most innocent tone you had ever made in your life and the look that he gave you almost made you cum in your pants right then and there. 

your hands came to palm him through his pants, keeping your eyes on him to see jacob’s head throw back with a low groan. his hands found their way to your hair, while you gave his growing bulge a light kiss. you continued to do this until his head came back to look down at you, hand moving to hold you by your jaw. “enough of this,” he spat, undoing his belt and watching as you unzipped his pants and pull them down to the ground. he took himself into his hands and pumped lazily a few times, until letting it rest on your closed lips. 

precum wiped against your kiss swollen lips as you opened your mouth, tongue falling out, waiting for him to do anything. he tutted again, other hand gripping your hair, finally pushing his dick into your mouth. he went as far as he could, hitting the back of your throat and watching you gag around it. you didn’t let yourself gag too much though, just enough to get remotely comfortable as he stilled in your throat. 

then he started moving your head up and down his cock, finding a steady rhythm that had you breathing in and out rapidly through your nose, spit dripping off his shaft and down your chin. the lewd noise that came out of your mouth made you moan, the vibrations enough to make him groan himself. 

he pulled you off of him, spit falling and getting everywhere on your face. “at least your pretty while i face fuck you, unlike your little friend holly. she just kept gagging and choking, which was hot at first, then a little sad,” he mentioned, wiping some of the spit off your chin with his thumb. 

you were about to talk to him again, until he was pushing right back into your mouth, to which you hollowed your cheeks out as much as you could to fit all of him in there. 

the sounds of his noises sent pressure right to your core, and you needed to alleviate the hot pressure that was building. sneakily ( or what you thought was sneakily ), your hands came to play with your clit, making you groan out against his dick. this caught his attention, and he pulled all the way out of you to give you a frown.

“are you actually touching yourself without my permission?” he asked, his voice teasing you and making you feel like a little girl.

your eyes widened, feeling stupid from his words and scared about what he was going to do about you getting caught in the act. he was silent, only looking at you with those dark green eyes that made you squirm under his gaze. without speaking, he pulled off the tie he was wearing and grabbed your hands, pushing your wrists together behind you. 

you couldn’t see what he was going to do until you felt the fabric bite into your skin, hearing the fabric fold into a tight knot. you tried to move your hands away from the tie and you couldn’t, they were tied together, unable to do anything. you were completely in his control now. 

“i'm sorry jacob . . . please i want to touch you,” you whined, though your voice was breaking from him ruining your throat.

he just laughed. “no, you wanted to touch yourself. don’t lie y/n, or i’ll just keep you like this and make you watch me finish myself off.” 

you hated that you found how cruel he was being hot, that it made you even more wet at the thought of him doing anything he wanted to you now that you were completely in his control. 

“get up,” he ordered, grabbing you under your arms and helping you onto your feet. it took you a moment to steady yourself since you didn’t have much balance, though you weren’t standing for long when he pulled you over a few feet away and bent you over the closest desk. your chest pressed against the cold surface, he pushed your head down too, cheek against the wood. 

he pulled you by the hair to hold you up, feeling his cock press up against you. “suck on these real quick for me princess,” jacob muttered, pushing two fingers into your mouth. you moaned against them, wiping your tongue all around them, letting your spit catch along his long digits. “good girl,” he praised, pulling them out of your mouth, pulling away your panties and inserting both of them into your aching hole. 

you yelped at the sudden pleasure, but pushed your hips against his hand, feeling him pump them in and out over and over again at an unforgiving pace. “is this what you wanted? just to be touched by someone you claim you hate,” his fingers pulled out of you, his hand landing to steady your hips. 

you heard him fumble a little bit, pushing into you after a few seconds went by. he was so big, and didn’t waste any time to let you adjust. when he bottomed out, he pulled all the way out and then back in roughly. you clenched around him, gasping breath in and out in a desperate attempt to adjust to him. 

even though he was going at an already fast pace, you could tell he was holding back. so you smirked, saying, “you said you’d fuck me till i can’t stand, but here i am standing.” jacob laughed, pulling you up by the hair again. you felt his hot breath fan against the shell of your ear as he whispered, “whatever you say.” 

his hips began rutting against you at an unbelievable pace, making you almost scream, head still being held up only by his hand in your hair. his lips kissed the skin below your ear, all the way down to the back of your neck, making you shiver and lean into his touch. 

your legs were already feeling tired, especially since your hands were still tied behind you by his tie and you couldn’t use them to hold yourself up. you felt like a limp rag doll against the desk while he pounded relentlessly into you. 

you were already so worked up that you knew you weren’t going to last very long, and surprisingly enough the way that the edge of the desk was digging into your hip bones the more you reached closer and closer to that edge. 

“fuck jacob i’m going to cum,” you yelled out, fingernails clenching into the palms of your hands. “please, please let me cum.”

“well since you asked so nicely,” jacob said. “cum then.”

you yelped out, squeezing around him and hitting your high like hitting a hard brick wall. the impact of him still rutting relentlessly and animal like into you made it hard for you to stand, riding out your high. his arm came to wrap around your waist, holding you against the desk while he chased his own high. 

the sensitivity you felt was enough to make your eyes water. jacob was not that far behind you though, giving you one last good thrust then spilling inside of you. you felt the cum enter you and fill you up, and when he pulled out you felt the liquid run down your inner thighs. 

the sounds of each of your breaths filled the room. your wrists were undone and you leaned against the desk, turning around and looking at them. there were deep purple bruises in a ring along them, and you knew those were going to be impossible to cover up with makeup to make your skin look natural.

each of you were silent while he got dressed and you cleaned him off of your thighs with a kleenex, getting dressed yourself. until you said, “you’re lucky i’m on birth control, asshole. you didn’t even ask me if you could come inside.”

“I figured you were, seemed like you,” he retorted. 

“you’re still unbelievable,” you answered, deciding to pin up your hair because there was no way you would be able to make it look normal while it was down. 

jacob tied his tie and gave himself a once over. “yeah, and you’re still a brat. see you at the rally, hopefully your voice recovers or else you’ll have to explain to all of your liberal bitches about how you got on your knees for me.”

asshole.

#jacob thrombey #jacob thrombey x reader #jacob thrombey smut #jacob thrombey imagine #knives out #knives out imagine

[rae-arts777]

Vanilla Bean Chapter 3

It’s up on AO3 but it’s being weird and won’t show me the newest chapter

TW: Sexual Trauma (Unhealthy Coping) (or can be seen as unhealthy coping)

Makoto stared out the window of the car awestruck at LA. Laurent was driving them to their hotel. Laurent looked over at Makoto and chuckled.

“You’re like a kid in a candy store”

“Hey can you blame me? I never left Japan! And do not get me started on the plane ride! That was so cool!”

Laurent just smiled and continued to drive.

They sat in a traffic jam, Laurent tapping the steering wheel sighing “of course...stupid LA traffic”

Makoto yawned and looked over at Laurent “I’m bored.”

“We’ll be there soon enough, take a nap.” Laurent glanced over a bit at Makoto’s figure.

Makoto was in a tank top, but started to complain about being cold, so Laurent gave him his jacket. He stared at how cute his jacket looked baggy on Makoto. The way one side slipped off his shoulder. The sleeves covering his hands due to being too long. The middle open, showing his tank top off still..exposing just the right amount of chest.

Laurent held on the gear shift a bit tighter, biting the inside of his cheek. He tried to focus on something else around him.

Makoto noticed the way Laurent tensed up. He smirked and decided to mess with him a bit.

“Hey since we’re stuck here let’s kill the time”

Laurent looked at him, and latched onto the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white seeing the sight in front of him.

Makoto was slipping the jacket off his body, pulling his tank top up a bit “how about I give you a little preview of the service I can provide?”

Laurent bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to make the inside bleed. Trying everything not to get hard right now.

“Plus! I didn’t give you a proper lap dance!” Makoto said playfully and started to crawl over to Laurent’s side.

“Oh wait, hang on!” Laurent laughed nervously, as Makoto practically threw himself over to Laurent’s side giggling.

“Come on!”

The two started to tussle back and forth, Laurent trying to hold it together, while Makoto laughed his ass off seeing how flustered the blonde man was. The car started to rock back and forth while the two continued.

At the hotel, Makoto stepped out of the bedroom wearing a suit.

“I don’t get it, how am I going to perform in this?”

“Trust me, people like it when more clothes are on at the start. Makes them get more excited when you start taking it off.” Cynthia helped him with his makeup. “You remember what to do?”

“Yup, act like the candy is a drug, do a few performances for Cassano and his men, and try to gather as much information as I can.”

“And if things get too much, just find Abby and they’ll help you.”

Makoto nodded and put on the glasses Laurent had given him “okay! Let’s do this!”

Laurent and Makoto walked into Cassano’s manor, Makoto stayed close to Laurent’s side as they were escorted to the pool area where Cassano lounged.

“Eddie!” Laurent greeted him

“What do you want?” Cassano asked.

“Well I’m here to offer you a deal of course!”

While Laurent explained Sakura magic, Makoto started to scan the area. Looking for any exit, if things go south. Working in the club did teach him to always know where all the exits were. Never know when you might have to slip out for whatever reason.

“Sorry, I’m not interested.” Cassano waved Laurent off.

“Well that’s just too bad..I was hoping I could also share with you my new little performer while we discussed deals”

“Performer?”

“Yes! He’s just so eager to put on a show for you. Isn’t that right Vanilla Bean?” Laurent looked at Makoto smiling.

Makoto nodded and pulled down his collar to reveal to Cassano the black collar around his neck, “Please sir…”

The “meeting” was moved inside. Of course Cassano has a stage with a pole in his house. Vanilla Bean walked onto the stage. He squn around the pole, starting to loosen his tie, letting his blazer fall to the ground. As he started to unbutton his white tee, he exposed the leather harness wrapped around his chest.

Some of Cassano’s men started to whistle and cheer. Cassano watched, his eyes traveling up and down Vanilla Bean’s body.

Vanilla Bean started to undo his pants, pulling them down to reveal black latex shorts that clung to his body in the perfect way.

Cassano exhaled sharply, watching as Vanilla Bean started to work his way up the pole spinning.

“Where did you get him?”

“Paid a good amount for him, amazing is he not?”

“I’ll say...smooth skin too..does he do lap dances?”

“Of course” Laurent handed him the candy tin “He likes to be paid in his favorite treat” he winked.

Vanilla Bean slid down the pole getting on his knees, bending over to show his ass off to the crowd. He heard Cassano shake the tin of Sakura Magic, slowly sitting up, turning towards him. With a smile, he made his way to Cassano, his eyes glued to the Sakura Magic.

“You want this?” Cassano asked

Vanilla Bean nodded “please..”

“Earn it.”

Vanilla Bean straddled his lap, dancing to roll his hips against Cassano’s. He smirked internally looking down to see Cassano clearly growing hard.

“Be a good boy and sit on my lap.”

Vanilla Bean sat on his lap, purposely sitting to wear Cassano’s clothed hard dick would feel against his ass.

Cassano grunted a bit trying to hold back moans running his free hand against Vanilla Bean’s exposed skin.

“Good boy.” Cassano popped out one sakura magic, seeing how Vanilla Bean’s eye lit up “ah”

“ahhhhhhh ~” Vanilla Bean opened his mouth, allowing for Cassano to slowly push the drug into his mouth.

Vanilla Bean ate the drug, humming happily. His tongue started to lazily lick and suck at Cassano’s finger that was still his mouth. He made direct eye contact with Cassano as he continued to lick his finger.

Finally Cassano pulled his finger out, Vanilla Bean making a pop noise with his mouth “thank you sir.”

Cassano looked to Laurent “alright, but I want to get a couple more performances from him” he squeezed Vanilla Bean’s ass.

Laurent kept everything in him from screaming. “Of course. My darling Vanilla, be a good boy and go around and entertain some more, the adults are talking now.”

Vanilla Bean nodded and got up, heading away to the rest of Cassano’s men who were eager to get a dance.

After a few rounds and being able to make a few couple hundred as generous donations, Vanilla Bean noticed a man who did not seem to be joining in.

Salazar, Makoto remembered he was Cassano’s personal bodyguard. If they were going to take Cassano down, they'd need him out of the way.

Vanilla Bean made his way to Salazar “Hey” he sat on his lap.

“Not interested.” Salazar said

Vanilla Bean pouted and gave him a look “But I already gave everyone else a little dance, I feel bad leaving you out.”

“It’s sweet but really you don’t have too.”

“Ay salazar!” Cassano yelled at him noticing “don’t be blowing off such a wonderful treat.” he turned Laurent “Your toy do private sessions?”

“He does..”

“Great, Vanilla Bean baby boy, take my boy and show him a good time. Salazar go have fun, that’s an order, go ahead and use one of my bedrooms.” He laughed.

Salazar sighed and got up, leading Vanilla Bean to a bedroom.

Laurent eerily watched the two as they disappeared into the hall.

Upon entering the bedroom, Salazar ripped the blanket off the bed and threw it over Vanilla Bean, “you can stop now. It’s fine” He sat on the bed.

Vanilla Bean pulled the blanket off his head and saw the man there staring at the ground. Well he was cold so he kept the blanket around him.

Makoto made his way to Salazar and sat next to him “Surprise a guy like you doesn’t want a dance” he tried to joke.

“Not my thing.”

“You..work for Cassano.”

“Yeah..I do..” Salazar played one of the rings around his finger.

The two sat there for a while in silence not knowing what to say.

“So...how did you...start doing this?” Salazar asked.

“Doing what?”

“You know…”

“Need to make money someway, plus...Sakura Magic..I….can’t get enough..” Vanilla Bean giggled.

“You’re too young…for this life I mean...addiction is a bad thing..”

“I don’t think I asked for your opinion.”

Salazar shook his head and stared at the ground.

“You sure I can't do anything to make you not so grumpy?” Vanilla Bean asked

“I’m not grumpy”

“You sooooooo are!” He giggled and threw himself on Salazar’s lap and started to poke at his cheek “so grumpy!”

“Stop.”Salazar growled in annoyance.

“grumpy , grumpy, grumpy old man!”

“Ugh!” Salazar grabbed him by the waist, flipping him over his shoulder and down onto the bed, holding him down.

Makoto yelped and froze up, memories on that night in the club….the first time he had sex for money...they started to rush back. He stared at the ceiling feeling dizzy trying to focus on something.

Salazar quickly let go and tried to talk to him “Hey...Hey sorry did I startle you? I’m sorry, you with me? I was just getting you off of me, I wasn’t going to do anything.”

Vanilla Bean grabbed Salazar by the collar, and pulled him down, crashing their lips into each other. Salazar froze in shock, feeling Vanilla Bean shove his tongue through into his mouth.

Salazar tried to control himself….but slowly melted into the kiss.

His hips laided perfectly with Vanilla Beans, Vanilla Bean wrapping his legs around his waist. Their kiss became more sloppy and heated.

Salazar broke the kiss, staring down at the smaller figure in front of him panting.

“Are you okay…?” He asked.

Makoto nodded “sorry..”

“Don’t apologize." Salazar got off of him.

“No wait…!” Vanilla Bean...Makoto felt dizzy..but..they needed to do this.

“Please..I want it..” Vanilla Bean pulled his latex shorts down, fully exposing himself to Salazar.

“Are you sure…?”

“Yes..”

Makoto remembered screaming with pleasure as Salazar thrusted into him. His eyes focused on the ceiling the whole time, clinging to Salazar for dear life. He remembered digging his nails into Salazar's skin. Feeling like if he let go, he would be left behind.

He remembered being held tightly by Salazar, feeling him grunt against him nearing the end. At climax he remembered both of them moaning, and feeling his legs twitch as Salazar pulled out cumming into the condom.

He remembered...white...and then black.

Makoto woke up in the hotel room. How the hell did he get here? He felt sore…Getting up, he quickly darted to the shower, turning it all the way to high heat.

He was in there for 2 hours, just scrubbing seeing his skin turn redder and redder.

Finally he stepped out, his whole skin was...red...no longer smooth.

He changed into some baggy clothes to hide his whole figure. Making his way to the living room. He sat on the couch and stared out the window thinking about what happened last night.

Cynthia sat next to him “hey..”

“Oh hey..”

“You okay?”

“Yeah…”

“Okay…..did he-”

“No..no no no, it was all me..I started it, it’s okay.”

“....is it..” Cynthia looked at him worried.

“Its….fine..”

“Alright..” Cynthia didn’t want to push further “Are you still up for it?”

“Yes I can handle it, don’t worry.”

“Okay..if you need anything I’m here.” She got up and decided to leave him alone.

Makoto stared out the window swimming in his own thoughts.

Why...did he do that?

Makoto focus on his reflection, Vanilla Bean.

“Why did we do it? Because it's our job! Remember? We have to do what we have to. Got it?”

“Got it..” Makoto said.

#great pretender #the great pretender #grepre #laurent thierry #makoto edamura #edamura makoto #great pretender anime #great pretender au

[grey-eyed-menace]

Like A Dame (Snapshots)

Mammon: *trying his best at being casual* ...so, uh, why're you and Flower-Girl in suits?

Sora: *looking down at her watch in vague interest, frowning at the time* Diavolo provided our outfits for the evening, I complied, Mio guilt tripped Lucifer and Satan into providing a mishmash of their clothes.

Mammon: *visibly disappointed* Don't ya still have a bunch of leftover dresses from the other times?

Sora: And deal with Asmo's appraising glare? No thanks, I get enough flack from him as is about my lack of taste in fashion. I mean, fuck the rest of the Devildom, but I live with Asmodeus. I have to deal with that shit, I'm not Mio, I can't just zone out.

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

[Pan behind the refreshments where Leviathan, Mio, and Beel have decided to hide out for the night. The latter two of which are currently splitting what looks like to be an entire raspberry cheesecake, and the former seems to be playing a Gacha game on Mio's phone.]

(Luke stumbles upon them, wearing a rather pretty sailor dress, with his hair done up in pigtails. He puts his hands on hips, frowns cutely, and looks down on them in disappointment.)

Luke: Is this really how you spend every event? No variation?

Mio: *casually fork wrestling Beel away from her three claimed slices of cheesecake* Not every event, no. Sometimes, Belphie or Satan join us, other times Levi and I shack up in the coat room, or Beel decides too safeguard the entire refreshment table. There's plenty of variation.

Luke: That's not what I meant and you know it.

Mio: And you're hiding from Phenex, aren't you?

[In the distance, a rather high pitched call of 'Luke!' can be heard as an incredibly pretty female looking aqua haired demon traverses the dance floor.]

Luke: ...*sighs* Can you slide over?

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

Sora: So that was Marchosias?

Satan: Yes, unfortunately, it seems she's not incredibly fond of you.

Sora: *blinks stupidly* Not fond? She's my lab partner. If anything, she loves me. It's just... Well, I'm hanging out with the guys she kind of... You know, followed into hell? It's awkward dude. Like... I think I've seen her vault out a six story building just to avoid Beel.

Satan: Truly?

Sora: *shrugs* Hey, a large majority of people avoid their family like the plague, others try to stay connected, and some, like Phenex, decide that they're gonna be said families problem. Whether they like it or not.

Satan: And you? What's your category?

Sora: *without so much as pausing to think* Reluctant orphan adoptee with five siblings, three cousins, and a really fucking weird extended family.

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

Solomon: Ah, Diana!

[Solomon rushes over to his old student with a bright smile, clad in a black form fitting dress with white accents, paired with a gold sash, and silver heels. He also, rather inexplicably, has a rather modest set of breasts.]

(Diana, by comparison, is dressed in a rather oversized midnight blue tux with a grey bowtie, and a white sash around her hips, a large spade sewn over her heart.)

Diana: *blinks tiredly, presses a hand to her face, and sighs, preparing herself for an oncoming clusterfuck* Yes Solomon?

Solomon: *grin persisting* I'm calling in a favor, I need you to help me with something.

Diana: *closes eyes, breaths in, and then exhales* ...next time, next time, I'm taking Bridget and Eirny up on that fourth honey moon.

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

Spade: Has anyone ever told you that you're infuriating?

Phenex: *humming as they drag him around the dance floor* Constantly, you?

Spade: Only my children.

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

[As the party begins to wind down, Mio has decided to briefly venture out from behind the refreshments table, only to come upon a staring contest between Phenex and Simeon.]

(Simeon looks incredibly uncomfortable. Phenex is simply Smiling, it's not a pretty smile, no, it's the smile that got Diavolo to back down from including them and Luke in the butler fiasco.)

Mio: ...do I want to know?

Simeon: *still uneasily meeting Phenex's gaze* No.

Phenex: *still Smiling* It's just drama between siblings, you understand don't you Mio-chan?

(Mio raises an eyebrow at Simeon, then turns to Phenex, and back to Simeon, before casting her gaze to where Luke and the others were at before sighing.)

Mio: Right, uh, well, I'll be leaving then, see you guys at R.A.D. tomorrow, I suppose.

(Mio proceeds to speed walk back to where Beel, Levi, and Luke are without a second thought.)

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

[By way of an escaped Lucifer, the Ubuyashiki-Shibata cousins are currently dancing with one another.]

(Mio is leaning against Sora's shoulder, as the latter leads her through the steps of a butchered slow waltz.)

Mio: How's day been so far? Well, I know mine hasn't been the best, Levi stole the last cupcake.

Sora: *sighing* I see you've been dreadfully bored.

Mio: Bored doesn't begin to cover it, I miss the more... Nerve wracking events!

Sora: Mio, we nearly die everytime those events happen.

Mio: Not always! Sometimes I get lucky! I got to hold Mammon's hand during that room by room puzzle!

Sora: ...Lord above *pointedly ignoring the scandalized gasps from passing demons* you two are pathetic.

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

[After what seems to be an eternity, Diana and Spade join together on the dance floor.]

(Sora and Asmo watch from by the refreshments opposite to the one Beel, Levi, and Mio are hiding behind, Diana and Spade gliding right by them, completely ignorant of their presence, only focused on one another.)

Sora: *eyes following them* Please tell me you feel like your intruding, please, I don't want to feel alone.

Asmo: *humming, already going about fixing Sora's bun* I don't know why you're hoping to find solidarity with me Sora, I mean, it's cute, but honestly? This just excites me. To see something so intimate and gentle... Ah, it makes me ache for simpler times.

Sora: *whimpers*

Asmo: *pats her shoulder reassuringly*

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

[It's the last dance of the night, and the Ubuyashiki-Shibata cousins are each dancing with their own prospective partners completely stone-faced.]

(Sora, dressed in a silver suit and black tie, with her hair up in a braided bun reminiscent of Arturia Pendragon, is dancing with Mammon.

Mio, by comparison, dancing with Belphie, and therefore helping support him, is dressed in an odd mishmash of Lucifer, Asmo, and Satan's clothes. A pair of navy blue slacks, a black dress shirt, dark pink tie and white blazer. Her hair is gathered into a short ponytail at the base of her skull, tied off with a red ribbon. Asmo is distinctly glaring at her from where he's dancing with Diana.)

Mammon: What's got you pissed off Girlie?

Sora: *still completely stone-faced* Fate, the world, Phenex's continued existence, an array of things. Most glaringly, perhaps it's the fact that you couldn't ask my cousin to dance so you stole me away from Beel and Belphie?

Mammon: *clears throat, as Sora leads him into an awkward dip* ...right, got me there Girlie.

(Across the floor, Belphie stirs enough to ask a question.)

Belphie: Why're you so stiff? Actually, why aren't you Sora, and where is Beel?

Mio: *pointedly smiling at Asmo as he passes by with Diana before answering* Mammon's a coward, and Lady Rose is genuinely convinced I'm a man.

Belphie: *already drifting off again* Got it...

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

[After the ball ends, the brothers and the Ubuyashiki-Shibata cousins proceed with the trek home.]

(Beel has taken to supporting Belphie with his left arm, while Sora, on his right, proceeds to routinely supply him with snacks.

Mio has taken to trying to convince Levi to give her phone back before they arrive at the House of Lamentation, while riding on Mammon's back piggy back style, grin plastered on her face, with Levi arguing hotly about being in the middle of raid on a mobile dungeon game of some sort.

Asmo is on Mammon's left side, mumbling obscenities about Mio's fashion choices.

Meanwhile, Satan and Lucifer are at the back of the pack quietly bickering about something or other.

Phenex, as usual, is stocking the poor 'family' of nine from the shadows.)

Sora: It was a good night, you know.

Beel: *chewing around a candy bar of some sort, and shifting Belphie's weight slightly* Yeah, it kinda was, wish there was more food at the refreshments table though, it was good.

Sora: Meh, I'll take your word for it, all I had was some of that Blood Punch, which... Yeah, not really for me, I think Solomon spiked it with something for the lesser demons.

Beel: Is that why Diana looked like she wanted to drop dead every time Diavolo came by for a drink?

Sora: Mmh, that and I think it was because she was forced to dance with Phenex for most of the night, she and Mister Spade only danced once, even if lasted the rest of the night.

(They silent the rest of the way to the House of Lamentation. At which, they all separate, undress, and promptly pass out, well, except for Levi, who remains with Mio's phone held hostage well until early morning.)

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

[The next morning, the household is rather groggy as they make their way down to breakfast.]

Mammon: Last night must 'ave been something else, my feet freakin' hurt.

Beel: You're one to talk, I feel like my ankles are planning a mutiny.

Mio: I woke up in a binder, guys, a binder. What the hell? I thought I wasn't going to be the Dame!

Sora: At least you didn't feel like you were suffocating the entire night, my chest still feels like it's about to cave in, fucking hell...

Levi: *shrugs* I'm actually fine with whatever happened.

Belphie: *head thunks against the table*

(Several moments later, there's an array of notifications from Asmo's phone. Loud shrill beeps are all that make up the next two or so minutes.)

Lucifer: *sighs* ...It seems I forgot about the social media ban, lovely.

#shall we date?: obey me! one master to rule them all #shall we date?: obey me! #obey me! #one master to rule them all #shall we date?: blood in roses #obey me! mc #obey me! mammon #obey me! lucifer #demon oc #obey me! oc #obey me! mc oc #Ubuyashiki Sora #Shibata Mio #obey me! Leviathan #obey me! asmodeus #obey me! satan #obey me! beelzebub #obey me! Belphegor #obey me! luke #obey me! simeon #obey me! Solomon #obey me! diavolo #obey me! barbatos #obey me! levi #obey me! asmo #obey me! beel #obey me! belphie #Diana and Spade Hambleton #Can you tell I only made it through the exposition? 'Cause I definitely can. #thanks for reading this!

[fereldenturnip]

But Don’t You Ever Let Me Go (2)

Primo Nizzuto/Majid Zamari Sugar Daddy Fic

Part 2/ ?

(Part 1)

[nsfw towards the end]

Majid spends most of his days trying his hand at an honorable job. 'Try' being the operative word. He's never had the head for dull drudge work, giving up his warehouse position in Utrecht before he ever got started. It's boring. Routine is shit-boring. He’s already burnt out on three separate jobs so far. 

Currently, he’s an auto-repair mechanic trawling through motor oil and brake fluid. It’s exhausting and frustrating, sweating through his overalls and busting his fingers. He absolutely hates it when some rich-prick comes swaggering in, throwing the keys of some hot rod in his face like he’s a robot and not a person. Swallowing the all-consuming rage gets harder with each asshole. 

These trust-fund babies always want the same thing, “Fix it by noon!” with not even thirty minutes to spare assessing what component they broke to make it sound like shit. Majid always manages to get the cars purring again, and he’s half-tempted to just steal one and ride off into the sunset like he used to. The dumb-struck look on Pastel Polo Shirt Paolo’s face when he returns to an empty shop is one of Majid’s fondest daydreams. 

No. Instead he fixes the damn car, hands over the keys, and lets jock twits rev dust in his face. 

To make matters worse, he goes home to a dank and miserable, overpriced flat above a busy deli. Unwinding is next to impossible when your floors reek of salami. At night, Majid listens to his neighbors pound away at each other. The luck of others only underscores his own nonexistent sex life. It’s been almost a year and he hasn’t gotten laid since his trysts with Tessa. Lying on his bed that doubles as a couch, Majid glares at the ceiling when the telltale thumping begins. There isn’t even a television to block out the noise or silence his depressing memories. Majid suffers the entire night, sometimes with half a stiffy that no amount of palming will relieve. 

Just when Majid’s day (his week, his month, his life) spirals out of control and he wants nothing more than to throw himself into the Tiber, Primo returns to whisk him away. Cheerful and unrepentantly persistent as expected. 

It's as if the older man is psychic--either that or he actually does have informants all over the city. He rolls up in a sleek Mercedes, his driver popping out to open the door obediently. From the dark interior Primo’s elegant hand uncurls, beckoning him forth. Into the lion’s den.

And every time, Majid lets himself be coddled into the back seat. If this is a dance then he’s clearly not the lead. Does he mind? Glancing back at the auto shop, he’s hard-pressed finding a reason to say no. 

Majid sinks into the warm leather seats and only mildly feels self-conscious as he clashes with his luxurious surroundings. Primo never disparages his workman’s clothes or the grease in his cuticles. He passes Majid an ice-cold water from the built-in fridge, unperturbed by the possibility of soiling his fine outfit. It’s just the opposite--Primo is ecstatic to be in Majid’s company again and again. 

They’re chauffeured around, chatting and laughing amiably (and wow, Majid never believed he’d laugh again, not after what he’s been through), searching for a meal befitting the hour. Fancy, decadent, expensive. Breakfast, brunch, lunch, and dinner. Sometimes a combination of several depending on Primo’s schedule. And that’s a loose term. 

Of course, there are events and fundraisers, meetings and phone calls Primo must attend to. Primo also owns half of Italy. The rules he operates by are malleable to suit his whimsy and if he wants to play hookie with Majid, there’s no one around to tell him no. 

No one can stop Primo, not even the devil himself. It’s unwise, every time Majid hops in Primo’s car and feels his stomach automatically growl rather than churn. Who is Majid, a deadbeat thief with anger issues, to the Don of Calabria? One wrong move, one dumb mistake, and Primo can have him sleeping in the Tiber with whomever else is lying there too. 

++++

“Ach,” Primo grimaces, “The Netherlands? I could never go there. It’s too cold!” He laughs though, warm and toothy, pouring more sparkling water into their glasses. The Mercedes makes another loop around the Colosseum, the tinted windows colouring the ancient stone in shades of blue and grey. The driver is a consummate professional, the ride is smooth and untroubled. Nevertheless, Primo curls in towards Majid to keep the drinks from spilling.  

“Ain’t that the truth,” Majid smiles and clinks the crystal together. “To tell you the truth, I wasn’t born there.” 

Primo makes a noise of interest and gestures for him to continue. It would be so easy to forget who this man really is. Primo slouches comfortably in Majid’s presence, his blazer and tie removed, collar unbuttoned to reveal skin. He’s human underneath. It relaxes Majid enough to spill details of his childhood spent in the Moroccan sun. To his credit, Primo listens attentively, chin in hand as he rests on the centre console.  

Unsurprisingly, Majid’s nostalgic and full of homesickness by the time he finishes detailing his family’s migration. 

“Thank you for telling me,” Primo nods his head seriously, as if Majid’s words are an important gift worth all the gravitas in the world. Stunned, Majid actually believes he’ll cherish them. 

“What about you?” Quid pro quo, right? Intimacy for intimacy. 

Primo tilts his head and peers coyly at him through his eyelashes, “What about me?”

Majid is curious. Living in Rome is like living in a soap opera; Majid has heard a wide gamut of rumors, from the comedic to the tragic. 

Some say Primo assassinated his uncle to do it, hid in the trunk of a car under the cloak of darkness and blew the old man’s brains out. Others scoff, they’re quick to point out how his uncle was nothing more than a destitute goat farmer and what could killing him possibly achieve? No, clearly Primo kidnapped some millionaire’s kid, burnt him alive on the beach and ran away with the ransom money.

When Majid asks, which is it? Primo smiles and weaves a story about a young man whose ideas were just too big for his small town to contain. How he longed for more until finally the Italian government benevolently loaned the young entrepreneur enough money to build his empire from the ground up. It sounds realistic. It’s also just another story and Majid is no where closer to the truth than he was before.

He huffs, unsatisfied. 

Sitting on Primo’s left, Majid is close enough to feel the heat rolling off him and smell his musky cologne. Primo turns suddenly and that’s when Majid realises he’s drifted too close into the other man’s orbit. He can spot gold flecks in Primo’s irises, faint laugh lines on his cheeks, and sun-induced freckles over his nose. 

Majid freezes like a deer caught in a rifle’s scope. A finger grazes his knuckles and he shivers from the soft touch. Primo’s desire is spelled out loud and clear, yet he makes no move to act on his impulses. 

The car rolls up to the curb outside his flat. The parking brake shifts and whatever’s going on in this moment between them dissipates. Majid darts away, totally missing the narrowed eyes and minute smirk. 

Primo, courteous as usual, professes, “I enjoyed spending my afternoon with you, Majid.”

Majid’s hand clasps the door handle--passerbys must think it strange seeing such an elegant car in this seedy neighborhood. Already halfway outside, Majid isn’t thinking clearly when he replies, “Me too.” Immediately, Primo preens. He could shudder from the liquid warmth swimming in Primo’s alluring gaze.

“Just tell me one thing,” Majid says, plucking the courage to stay a minute longer. “What’s the truth?” For a moment he thinks he’s confused the older man, either that or inserted his foot into his mouth. 

But Primo’s mind is sharp, always several moves ahead. He knows exactly what Majid means.

“It was all that and more.”

That’s…not an answer. It’s grandiose and enigmatic (vague and frustrating) and perfectly sums Primo up. The bastard knows this and has the audacity to grin while he shooing Majid out.  

“Until next time,” Primo asserts, stroking his greying goatee. He finishes with a soft declaration, “my boy.”

++++

The long-anticipated ‘other shoe’ drops while Majid is standing alone in his barren kitchenette and wistfully wishing he’d accepted Primo’s invitation to dinner. It’s a devastating epiphany, a slip-up he catches way too late. He finally sees the intricate spider’s web the Don has woven, and Majid went and entangled himself in lines, enticed with food and stories. Primo has done a good job sinking his claws into Majid without him even questioning it.

Midnight arrives. Rest doesn’t. 

Majid rolls around in his bedsheets, unable to catch a break from the set of green eyes plaguing his erratic thoughts. Sleep is just right around the corner waving at him, Majid can almost taste it. His eyelids droop and that’s exactly when the horny couple’s headboard begins it’s nightly clacking ritual. Majid screams his anguish into his pillow. Of course! He’s fate’s favourite punching bag! 

As usual, his cock weakly hardens--Pavlov to the rutting behind thin walls. Pathetically, he rubs his face and sniffs. Then sniffs again, deeper this time.

Somehow, spending hours with the Don has Primo’s aromatic cologne--notes of amber, tobacco, and rum--clinging to his skin and clothes. Majid considers showering himself clean. It would be the responsible thing to do, right? His cock twitches.

Wrong. 

Majid wants to be irresponsible, rash, foolhardy. Recklessness conjures up a low-lit room filled with cigar smoke. Impulsiveness takes shape in the form of Primo Nizzuto stalking him from across the room, eyes steel-grey as he looms and strokes up Majid’s arm.

“My boy,” Primo growls in a low octave that sparks a flame in Majid’s guts. Heat pools in his hips and straight away he’s tugging his aching erection out of his briefs. His white cotton t-shirt gets rucked up and over his nose so Majid can inhale lungfuls of that intoxicating scent. The neighbors’ mediocre fucking gives way to Primo rasping in his ear--my boy, my boy--sultry as smoke curling around his head. Majid moans, touching himself with both hands, one twisting his throbbing wet head and the other cupping his balls. He frantically strips his length, feet planted wide and flat so he can hump into his fists. My boy...

When he comes, Majid nearly chokes on the shirt wadded in his mouth. His orgasm rips through him like a runaway train flying off the tracks. Globs of sticky come coat his hands, his abs, his shaking thighs. Everything’s a soaking mess. Shirt digging into his armpits and underwear around his ankles, Majid really ought to clean up. Unfortunately, his exhausted, empty body is too busy floating high from the rush of endorphins.  

It’s so damn easy to slip into sleep after that.

#my fic #trust fx #wolf 2013 #Trust the Wolf #primo x majid #primo nizzuto #majid zamari #But don't you ever let me go

[fuzziemutt]

Do You Understand?

Chapter 3/9 - Link to Masterlist in reblog

Summary: Connor makes his move to get away from everyone. This is most certainly a great plan I assure you (/s)

Tw: Mainly unhealthy thinking again. Connor’s main coping mechanism: ignore it.

After a surprisingly decent enough handful of hours of standby, Connor woke up feeling relatively less empty and angry than before. He always woke up a good bit before Hank just to make sure he got up relatively on time and to walk Sumo. Thinking of Sumo made him realize he’ll miss the dog once he moved out this afternoon, but he quickly dismissed that thinking. He was doing this for the best. He got up and entered the bathroom to see if he could find one of his beanies in his personal clothes pile he kept in there to help hide his LED later. Walking past the mirror he took a glance and it really seemed his eyes and brows were stuck just forever looking pissed off. He’ll deal with that later… maybe. Moving back to his objective, he managed to find a grey beanie with black zig zags he swiped and went to try on.  

Connor didn’t mess with his appearance too much following the revolution. He switched his Cyberlife jacket, that he’s pretty sure Hank hid in the house (or burned), with a very similar dark grey blazer recently and a black knee length coat sometimes. He tended to keep wearing button ups (often white, sometimes black or even with a floral pattern) and even wore dark turtlenecks to spice things up with the usual tie, if needed, black jeans and Cyberlife shoes. He liked familiarity and he liked how he looked in what Cyberlife said he looked good in. 

The most drastic change was that he enjoyed changing his hair color quite often. Maybe it was a bit out of a desire to separate himself from Nines since they looked the exact same, height, appearance, build, everything except eyes (and material arguably). He kept getting annoyed by how often they kept getting confused for the other. It didn’t help that Nines ditched his own Cyberlife jacket minutes after deviating. You’d think with how.. Loud… Nine’s fashion tastes were, people would be able to differentiate them better yet it was a constant struggle so he turned to ‘fucking’ with his hair color.

He stared at himself for a few seconds before deciding that he was tired of the default brown again and switched it to the pure white color. He had more colors, most of which he got from messing with his own color coding or from androids who focused on making additional coding to allow more variety in android features, but today white felt fitting. He sort of wished he could change his eye color too, maybe he should ask Simon if anyone… He was getting side tracked again. Trying on the beanie and it seemed everything was good.

He still had plenty of time before Hank’s alarm would initially go off so he busied himself in finding a bag in the garage that let him pack his few possessions into. Really beyond the clothes, he only had a few trinkets like his coin, and a small plush manta ray he got from the aquarium once. He didn’t have a room so he didn’t really have the chance to collect anything. He also went ahead and changed his clothes into a dark blue turtleneck, usual jeans and the knee length coat since those would take up more space to pack. After packing, he hoisted the bag to his shoulder and called Sumo over for their usual walk. They walked to a nearby park where Connor stored his moving bag in the most effective hiding spot before walking back. If he suddenly walked much slower than usual on their way back, Sumo didn't comment about it.

Just as he was done taking care of Sumo and putting away the leash, he heard the tell tale sound of Hank’s alarm going off. He got a coffee mug down before heading towards the bedroom where angry grumbling could be heard. Knocking on the door with an ‘I’m up! I’m up, asshole’ in response satisfied him enough to return to the kitchen and grab himself a cup for a quick thirium top off. He could have packed it, but then he wouldn’t have any here in case of emergencies. He could just get some more from the DPD anyways or even New Jericho if he really needed it. 

He looked up from his cup as Hank shambled his way to the bathroom. Connor felt his lips give the little odd quirk that represented a smile according to Cyberlife but immediately lost it when it reminded him of yesterday. And he was doing so well keeping his mind off it. Oh well. 

After some time, Hank finally joined him in the kitchen, mostly dressed and mostly awake. Hank started wearing his hair in a ponytail lately given his refusal to cut his mop of hair, but needing to look more “professional” now that he wasn’t showing up to work hungover every day. 

“What color we going for today?” Hank asked, voice still gruff as he set about getting coffee and cereal. Connor tended to wear the beanie to surprise others on the color of the week especially if he was trying out a very notable color like the time he went neon pink. It had ulterior motives today, but Hank didn’t need to know that.

“Now now Hank. No peeking. You don’t get special privileges,” Connor teased, moving to wash his now empty cup. Connor knew his voice didn’t give insight to his internal turmoil, but it seemed Hank caught onto Connor’s new predicament with his “expressive” eyes. However, he didn’t say anything, only grunting in response and turning away. Connor wondered what the Lieutenant knew or what he picked up from him in those couple of moments. 

They only made some more small chatter and a quick Sumo petting before heading on out to the DPD. Connor felt a bit weird not telling Hank that he was moving out, but he didn’t want his friend to question his decisions or whatever he would worry he would do. He honestly wasn’t sure why he felt adamant in not telling him. It would honestly worry the old man more, if he just up and left, but something stopped him from saying anything. He felt like Hank also knew there was something he wasn’t saying, but he didn’t seem to push Connor to admit whatever thoughts were circling in this mess of a CPU he had for what humans would consider a brain. It didn’t matter much as before he knew it, they had arrived at work. 

Logically, Connor knew Nines would be here. He’s been working with the other android for a couple months now already. Usually he would speak to him before Hank actually felt like doing any work to pass the time. Therefore, he shouldn’t have been so shocked to see the RK900 sitting at his usual desk next to Gavin Reed. Yet here he was, lagging a couple seconds behind the Lieutenant just staring at Nines. Of course, nothing else showed on his face as per usual, but he didn’t doubt it was odd to see Connor suddenly switch to a slower walking pace as he seemed to glare daggers at his look alike. 

Nines immediately noticed his presence and smiled very awkwardly, unlike the usual friendly grin, while waving at him. Connor’s new found emote of “fuck you” seemed to make Nines very unsure in how to proceed given how much his eyes looked around as if trying to find a solution to the problem that is Connor’s existence. Before he could find something to do, Connor sped back up and beelined to his own desk. He quickly sat down and placed his hand on his terminal to effectively cut off any attempt to conversate. 

“Who pissed in your cheerios?” Hank commented from his side, scrolling through his phone. His head was being propped up by the hand of the elbow planted firmly on his desk, but his eyes stared watchfully at Connor.

“I can not eat, Lieutenant,” Connor helpfully reminded him. He was just trying to dodge any sort of questioning, but he couldn’t think of a proper work around while the anger that flared up earlier still clouded his circuits. 

“Just an expression. And you’re definitely more pissey than usual,” Hank said, his expression and voice seemingly bored and tired even if he still kept a close eye on Connor. Connor merely looked up at him and purposefully raised a single eyebrow to make the human elaborate. 

“First, Nines looks like a fucking kicked puppy right now and that’s not even mentioning how you skipped your morning talks with him,” a quick glance over and Connor could confirm Nines was looking everything like a “kicked puppy” as Hank said, “second, you haven’t even taken your beanie off and you usually do that first thing in because lets face it you’re a bit of an attention whore.” 

Connor blinked realizing he was right, he knew Hank was more teasing on that last part, but he couldn’t deny it. The guarded look slid back into place as Connor stared at Hank, waiting for him to say anything else. He wasn’t sure why, but he just had to make sure Hank wasn’t trying to trick him despite Connor revealing his different hair color multiple times before. This was silly he finally thought and just went ahead to tug the beanie off, quickly fixing his hair afterwards too.

Hank was also right that the officers who commented on his hair instantly filled him with that desire for praise he never could seem to muffle, left gaping when Amanda was effectively blocked from his systems. And of course, he preened a bit upon feeling a bit better refusing to acknowledge the knowing look in Hank’s eyes and forcing himself to focus on his work once more.  

-

Today wasn’t too busy of a day surprisingly. It was more reports that Connor could let himself absentmindedly work through as he was preoccupied by how he would decorate his apartment and what furniture he should get. They only had to leave once for a crime scene involving a dispute between a human and an android that led to a dead human and heavily injured android. There were always android and human murders him, Hank, Nines and a couple other officers constantly dealt with, but the rate seemed to be settling down to a more “normal” consistency. It angered Connor that it was still such a problem, but all he could do was help where he could on this end. The android consented to a look into their recorded memories to know what happened while they were whisked away for repairs. Pretty easy day all things considered. 

Either way, Connor didn’t even fully realize their shift was over, busy thinking of if he’d prefer blue or purple curtains, until Hank started getting up and stretching after turning off his computer. Connor found that after deviating he couldn’t quite keep his attention on what he wanted to anymore. It wasn’t that he couldn’t do it at all, he just found his mind tended to wander more easily, especially doing things that didn’t require much of his attention. He also abruptly remembered that he needed to go grab his moving bag and head to the apartment for the move in. So he set about shutting his work down as well. 

Nines perked up from his desk in hearing their shuffling; he even was about to start getting up from his desk it seemed. Connor quickly snatched his beanie and any other personal items he might need before practically booking it, without running, towards the entrance. He didn’t even glance behind him to see if Hank was following or if Nines was following either. Nines was the slightest bit faster than him so he could have caught up with only slight effort if he wanted so Connor was hoping he’d take a hint and leave him alone at least another day more. He didn’t stop his very enthusiastic speed walking until he was almost at Hanks’ car in which he remembered he couldn’t go home with Hank and sort of awkwardly leaned against the car to wait for Hank to catch up. Thankfully, it looked like Nines took the hint when all he saw was Hank almost speed walking towards him with a frown.

“Wanna explain why the fuck it seems you were running for the speed walking Olympics back there,” Hank immediately groaned out when he was close to the car. He was slightly out of breath.

“Nope,” was Connor’s reply. Simple and not sweet but sweet.

“Uh huh.. then do you want to talk about how it seemed this Olympic was being founded on avoiding Nines as much as inhumanly possible?” Hank asked next, crossing his arms and raising a judgmental bushy brow down on Connor. 

“I wasn’t avoiding him,” Connor’s eyes not looking at Hank and voice too defensive to be legit. Damn. It seems whatever happened yesterday in the taxi was still affecting him. How annoying.

“Yeah no. I’m not believing that for a second,” Hank seemed to be glaring at him harder. Connor didn’t feel pressured or stressed by it, but it was also annoying him that Hank wasn’t dropping this. 

“We had a fight yesterday, it’s no big deal,” Connor easily lied again looking Hank in the eye this time. Hank seemed to not be convinced, but Connor knew he didn’t know enough about whatever “fight” occurred to tell how much Connor was lying. 

Hank’s shoulder slumped a bit as it seemed he was giving up the chase for now. “Fine. That’s fair. Sometimes, friends fight, I won’t push you on it, but do talk to Nines about whatever the hell happened so he stops looking so mopey.” 

Connor felt a flicker of jealousy again at the reaffirmation on how clearly Nines emoted compared to him. But he didn’t say anything, only nodding even if he had no plans to talk to Nines (or really anyone) if he didn’t have to. Connor is going to use this ignore method for as long as it works damn it. 

“So uh.. You getting into the car?...” Hank awkwardly commented as he made his way to the driver’s side. Oh. That other thing needs to be dealt with now. Right. Connor will miss driving to work with Hank… that’s besides the point. Hank wouldn’t care if he rode with him or not anyways since he saw Connor as a machine still.

“Oh. I’m actually going to be heading to New Jericho to further discuss what we talked about yesterday. I’ll be taking a taxi don’t worry,” Connor attempted to order his face to give a reassuring smile but Hank’s subtle cringe affirmed that it was not giving its intended effects and he immediately dropped it. 

“You sure you don’t want me to just drop you off? It’s not that big of a deal,” suspicion lingered in Hank’s eyes as he stared at Connor from inside the car. Hm. Not good if Hank was already catching that something was off. He really did not give the old geezer enough credit.

“It’s fine. The discussion involved what we should be doing about androids who react very negatively towards humans still. I’m not sure if allowing you to accompany me this time would be a good idea especially as I’m not sure how much information about that discussion has been passed around since then,” Connor began to wonder if lying was going to start becoming his life at this point with how much he’s done it in the past day alone. 

“Hmm.. fair point, alrighty. Stay safe out there, kid,” Hank backed off but Connor could still see the suspicion in his eyes. This will appease the Lieutenant for now but just for now. Connor will figure something out for a more permanent solution later. He was relying on the others not communicating between themselves too much.

After saying his goodbyes, Connor walked towards another automated taxi and got in. He set the path to the park he hid his bag in and placed the beanie back on his head to make sure his LED was hidden. It didn’t take long to retrieve it from the dense bushes, glad that the park didn’t get many people at this hour from how suspicious that looked, and immediately reentered the taxi. He did chuckle a bit at how funny it would have been if he had gotten arrested then but shook it off. A few more minutes and he stood in front of his new “home”. It wasn’t the worst, a bit worse for wear, definitely hasn’t been cleaned since the 80s he’d take a guess. Most of the apartments appeared to be empty which was good. Connor didn’t want to befriend any neighbors. They’d just get fed up with him anyways like the others.

#i write #dbh #detroit: become human #connor rk800 #connor rk900 #hank anderson #connor whump #connor angst

[katehuntington]

Title: In Bad Waters - part nine Word count: ±3300 words Episode summary: Still in possession of the Winchesters’ belongings, Zoë meets up with the hunters on her next case. When it turns out to be a little more complicated than anticipated, she accepts their help in order to make an important deadline. Part nine summary: After splitting up, each hunter has their own part to play in order to solve the case. But when Sam has a vision, things go south real quick. Episode warnings: Dark! NSFW, 18+ only! Descriptions of domestic violence/child abuse. Drug use/addiction. Angst, gore, violence, character death. Description of blood, injury and medical procedures/resuscitation. Swearing, alcoholism. Supernatural creatures/entities, mentions of demon possession. Descriptions of torture and murder, drowning. Illegal/criminal practices. Mentions of nightmares and flashbacks. Author’s note: Beta’d by @winchest09​​​​​​ and @deanwanddamons​​​​​​. Thanks, girls! Gif isn’t mine. If you are the creator or know who made it, please tell me so I can credit you.

Supernatural: The Sullivan Series Masterlist

S1E02 “In Bad Waters” Masterlist

     Bored out of her skull, Zoë flips the page of her newspaper for the third time, pretending to read it. She found a good spot on the terrace of a Pizza Hut restaurant. Traffic drives by on Highway 412 constantly, but from her table she has a clear view of a house on Magnolia Drive. Taylor Dawlson, Laura’s former teacher, lives in the suburban home.

     It’s 14:30 and Zoë has been guarding the Dawlson residence for over an hour now, but nothing has happened so far. She hasn’t had a call from the boys yet either, so she presumes everything is quiet at the Shire place, and Dean is probably talking to doctor Hughes.

     Taylor Dawlson is home, busy maintaining the household while keeping her daughter entertained. The husband, whose name is Jeff, is working the lawn at the moment, a sprinkler system watering the pink magnolias by the white wooden fence. On the table in front of her, next to the slice of pepperoni pizza, Zoë installed her Macbook, which shows some information about the Dawlson family, just so that she knows who she’s dealing with. Taylor is a teacher at the Woodrow Wilson Elementary School, Jeff is into sportswear and merchandise. They’ve been married for seven years  and have a three year old daughter named Lesley. No criminal records on the parents, nothing out of the ordinary. Just a happy family, living in a normal neighborhood, right next to a church. One thing doesn’t show up on her screen, though, and it’s something the huntress knows for a fact; the mother happened to be in one of her flashbacks.

     She lets out a bored sigh and takes another bite of her pizza, but then feels her phone vibrating in her pocket. Quickly, she takes out her Nokia and checks the screen; it’s Sam.      “What’s up?” She yawns.      “Your stake out is that exciting, huh?” Sam responds sarcastically.

     Sam is comfortable in the driver’s seat of the Chevrolet Impala, which he parked across the street of the Shire residence, located on Reynolds Park Road. He has the window rolled down and rests his elbow on the door as he holds his phone to his ear. The streets are almost empty in this neighborhood just outside the downtown area of Paragould. A beautiful house by the lake seems like a fairytale to live in, and yet this place was the setting for violence and abuse for many years.

     “It’s like watching a documentary on snails,” she comments, after which she bites off a piece of pizza.      Sam can hear her chewing food and furrows his brow. “Are you eating again?”      “Dude, you sound like my dietician,” Zoë responds with her mouth full.      Sam chuckles and realizes how stern he must have sounded. “Burgers again?”      “No, I like a bit of variation in my cuisine,” she claims, putting up a snooty voice. “I’m having Italian right now.”      “Let me guess: pizza?”      Zoë laughs. “Pizza Hut to be precise.”

     “How do you do it?” Sam wonders, still chuckling.      “Do what?”      “Eat so much, without… well, you know--” he starts carefully, instantly regretting it. He’s on thin ice.      Zoë can’t help but grin, deciding to mess with him. “- getting big? Are you fucking kidding me, Sam? Someone who had a long term relationship should know this; clothes, weight and age are the forbidden subjects.”      Quickly, Sam sets things straight. “I’m sorry, I just think it’s extraordinary.”      “What? The weirdness of women or the fact that I eat so much?” she jokes.

     Sam chuckles, now that he can detect the trace of mockery in her voice.  “Seriously, though. How can you consume so much food and still look - you know - like you do?”      “Because I kick ass,” she answers, sassy.      Her response might have come out rapidly, for a brief moment there, Zoë analyzed that sentence. Was Sam’s remark a compliment or a flirt? She’s not sure what to think of it, but presumes the flirtation wasn’t intentional, considering he’s clearly still struggling to deal with his ex-girlfriend’s death. And come on, she has given him a pretty hard time; she’s been anything but charming.

     Zoë changes the subject before an awkward silence follows. “How’s it going over there?”      Sam glances through his windshield at the two individuals up at the house. “Nothing out of the ordinary. Mrs. Shire seems to mourn by cleaning up the entire house and her son is sitting by the lake, just staring out over the water,” Sam describes.      “The guy was an asshole, but he was still their family,” she realizes, after which a beep sounds in her ear; she has a different call coming in.       “Gonna put you on hold for a sec, Sam,” she notifies the hunter, and pushes the green button on her phone. “Sullivan.”

     “Doc ain’t talking.”      Dean walks down the stairs of the Arkansas Methodist Medical Center. He unbuttons his blazer and loosens his tie.      Zoë narrows her eyes, even though the recipient on the other end of the line can’t see it. “What do you mean, he isn’t talking?”      “He got all nervous when I started asking questions. There’s no way I can get a word out of his mouth. But he does know something, alright,” Dean explains.

     “Did you try everything?” she checks, questioning Dean’s interrogation skills.      “Well, I didn’t torture him, if that’s what you’re asking. I didn’t tell him the truth either,” he admits.      Zoë realizes it’s a good thing he didn’t reveal his true identity. If Dean starts talking about killer ghosts and the guy freaks out, they might have a serious problem, considering that they are identified as FBI. A call to their chief at the Bureau will ultimately result in a blown cover, which will not make solving any future case any easier.

     “You have the death report, right?” she threatens with a tone.      “Who the fuck do you think I am? Of course I have the death report,” Dean ensures cockily, as he takes out the report from his inside pocket. “Stole it from his file case. Piece of cake.”      Zoë doesn’t bother to compliment him for his deed. “Anything interesting in there?”      “Not really,” Dean presses his phone between his ear and shoulder and leafs through the pages, which contain a lot of medical talk that he doesn’t understand one bit. “It says that Laura Shire was brought in by her father around 11 PM, yada yada. Cause of death…” Dean pauses as he reads the line again and halts. “Didn’t you say that both dear daddy and Van Dyke broke their neck?” he recalls, looking up from the file.      “Yeah.”      “Laura broke hers too. Robert Shire claimed she fell down the stairs.”       Zoë scoffs. “Well that’s complete utter bullshit.”

     “One other thing,” he points out as he continues his way down the street. “Shire wasn’t just a colleague, he was his boss. Guess who the second signature on Laura’s death report belongs to.”      “Shire himself?” she assumes, stunned.      “The one and only.”      “But he’s a family member of the victim, he should have been excluded from the examination!” Zoë exclaims in disbelief.      “That’s why he got Hughes to do the autopsy. All they needed was his signature as Chief of Staff.”      The huntress gets the point now and rolls her eyes skyward. “Which makes the report valid.”      “So, what now?” Dean questions, his current mission having been completed.      “Hughes played a part in this cover up, so he might be her next candidate,” Zoë ponders, glancing at the Dawlson residence, where it’s still quiet. “There is no way you can keep an eye on him in that hospital, is there?”      “We don’t need to. Laura only attacks when her victim is alone, right?” Dean mentions.

     Zoë thinks about that for a second, her mind going over the first two murders. She didn’t notice it before, but he’s right. There were people in the house when Shire and Van Dyke were killed, but never in the same room.      “Now that you mention it. As long as the doc stays amongst people, he’ll be safe. When does he get off?”      “Already checked that; not until 6 PM,” Dean informs.      “Good, so we don’t have to worry about him until six,” she concludes, trying to think of a plan.      “Everything nice and quiet over there?” Dean wonders.      “I’m wasting my time. I’m not sure if Laura would target her anyhow.”      Dean walks into the parking lot of the Kentucky Fried Chicken only blocks away from the hospital. “And Sam?”      “Do I look like a fucking mailman to you? Why don’t you ask him yourself?” she returns annoyed.

     He enters the KFC and takes a look at the menu, even though he always goes for the classic. When Dean ignores her remark, the silence however ignites a reaction from the huntress nonetheless.      “You two had a fight or somethin’?”      “Sort of,” he admits with a mutter.      “Ah, brotherly love. What did you fight about?” Zoë asks nosy.      “That’s none of your business,” Dean returns defensive, stunned by her boldness. “Damn, you’re not curious at all, are you?”      “I’m not curious. I just want to know everything.” She shrugs, her correction sassy. “C’mon, spill it.”

     Dean sighs somewhat agitated. He doesn’t owe her an explanation, but he figures that once she knows, she might stop poking him. He keeps it as short as possible, though. “It was about Dad. Sam and I have different ideas on how to find him.”

     Surprisingly, there’s no smart counter that follows up his words. Instead, Zoë swallows back a mean remark and decides not to respond for their own good. They are finally having a conversation without yelling at each other, and although the fighting doesn’t bother her since she has no interest in becoming friends with the older Winchester, she’d rather keep it civil. Like it or not, she can use their help, so now would not be the best time to counter the hunter.

     Dean breaks the deadly silence. “Still there?”      Zoë clears her throat. “Yeah, sorry. Got distracted.”      “Want some chicken?” he jokes, as if he could teleport it to her place.      She laughs, guessing where he is. “Where are you? KFC?”      “Ahuh,” he confirms, and turns to the guy behind the counter. “One bucket of chicken wings, please.”      “Is that all?” Zoë comments.      “You’re right,” he agrees, looking back at the restaurant worker. “Could you add a Crispy Colonel Sandwich and a coke?”

     He pays for his second lunch of the day and tells the employee to keep the change.      “Did you eat?” Dean asks Zoë, as he walks out to the terrace and settles down in the sun.      She smiles at her phone. Apparently they have found common grounds.      “Yeah, pizza,” she mentions. “Which reminds me, I still have Sam on hold. If you wanna crash some place, feel free to break into my motel room.”      “Alrighty, you didn’t boobytrap it, did ya?” he checks first.      “Unless you’re a demon or a ghost you’re free to waltz in,” Zoë replies, referring to the demon trapping pentagram under the doormat and the salt lines in the windowsills.      “Room number?”      “Seventeen. Don’t break anything.”

     With those words, she disconnected her call with Dean and returns to Sam. “I’m back,” she lets him know.      But there’s not a sound on the other line. He didn’t hang up on her, she can still hear static.      “Sam? You there?”      Then she hears Sam’s voice, but it’s not comforting. A painful moan sounds from the other side of the line.      “Sam, answer me! What’s going on?” Zoë calls out, sensing something is wrong.      Sam groans. “I’m here.”

     He has the palm of his hand pressed against his forehead, eyes shut firmly. He doesn’t know what just happened to him, but a stabbing pain in his head almost knocks him out cold. The images that flashed before his eyes a moment ago remain on display, but he cannot place any of them. Visions in his sleep are one thing, but he has never experienced them during the day before.      “What’s happening?”      He hears Zoë’s voice and presses his Blackberry against his ear. “I - I think I just had a vision.”      Zoë’s eyes grow large. It has started. “What did you see?”      Sam looks up, stunned. By the sound of her words, she experienced this too. “You had one of those while awake?”      “That’s not important right now. What did you see?” she repeats firmly.      Sam thinks back, trying to recover the recollections behind closed eyes. “I saw a house, white woodwork,” he remembers. “A woman inside is terrified, screaming, and I heard a child’s voice, saying ‘You didn’t stop it’.”

     Zoë’s eyes drift from her laptop screen to the house across the street; the Dawlson home has white woodwork. Her eyes widen as she realizes what might be going on.      “It’s Laura. What else did you see, Sam?!” she pressures while getting up so abruptly, that her chair tumbles over.      “A guy mowing the lawn, sprinklers... and a church, right next to the house,” he recalls, concentrating on possible clues.

     Zoë’s runs down the terrace, leaving her Macbook behind on the table. As fast as she can she crosses the street and is barely missed by a car, but she doesn’t have eyes for it. Her eyes are fixated on the front door and she knows; Laura is here.      “Get to Magnolia Drive, now!” she orders Sam, putting away her phone right after.      Adrenaline rushes through her body as she grabs the doorknob, but the door seems to be jammed. She pulls as hard as she can, but there’s no movement whatsoever.

     “Hey! What do you think you are doing?” Jeff Dawlson exclaims at the intruder. He left his lawnmower on the grass and now approaches her with large steps.      “Your wife’s in danger! We need to get inside the house,” she tells the man straight forward.      The facial expression of the tall man changes from mad to worried, his gaze shifting to his home. “Who are you?”      “Jeff, I don’t have time to explain! We need to get in the house!” Zoë cries out, losing her cool.

     She puts her shoulder into it and tries to lift the door from his hinges, but it won’t budge. Frustrated, she looks around for another way in.     Jeff hastens to the back door, but returns soon after, panicking. “I can’t get the back door to open! My daughter is in there too!”      The huntress curses, ramming into the door again. Laura is doing this, she’s shutting them out so that she can work over her victim without being interrupted. It’s amazing how fast this little ten year old developed into the monster she is now. This isn’t a ghost problem anymore, this is a poltergeist.      Without hesitation, Zoë draws her gun from behind her waistband and aims for the kitchen window. She pulls the trigger, but instead of breaking the glass, the shell flings back as if it just hit bullet proof glass.

     “Taylor!” Jeff calls his wife's name, desperately.      But they don’t hear a sound, not even a horrific scream and Zoë wonders if that is a good sign. Not willing to give up, she creates some distance between her and the door and drives her shoulder into the wood again and again, until she feels sore to the bone.      “Goddamnit! Let us in!” she yells, furiously.

     In the meantime, Jeff got his hands on a shovel and starts hitting the windows, but none of them break. While he keeps calling out for his wife and daughter, Zoë hears the roar of a V8 engine coming around the corner. With screeching tires Sam stops the car and jumps out, rushing for the trunk.      Without pausing her efforts to get in, Zoë calls out. “You better have a bright idea, Sam!”      With two loaded shotguns in his hands he runs up the lawn, but stops in his tracks when he glances at the window. “Zoë?”

     She looks over her shoulder and sees the staggered expression on his face, triggering her to back up glances at the second story. In front of the window stands a young girl, but the sight is anything but endearing. This time she isn’t the sad little innocent kid, she looks terrifying. Here eyes seem to have sunken deep into their sockets, blood and bruises cover her pale body. Her head is tilted to the right in an unnatural way, twisted at the base. The image distorts, then she disappears.

     The next moment, they hear the sound of shattering glass. The hunters’ attention is drawn to the kitchen window; Jeff managed to break it. Hastily Zoë rushes for the door, knowing it’s unlocked now and enters the house. Sam is right behind her and hands her the shotgun in the hallway, just in case.      She looks at the gun for a moment. “This isn’t gonna help.”      “Loaded with rock salt,” Sam elaborates.      Her eyes dart to the rifle again, this time appreciating the weapon. She heard of many ways to fight ghosts, but this is a new technique. It must be a Winchester invention, seems like those lumberjacks aren’t that stupid afterall.      “You get their daughter,” she orders.      They split up and when Sam glances into the living room, he sees Jeff's and Taylor’s little girl. She doesn’t seem to realize what is going on, apparently she didn’t hear a thing. The child is playing with her dolls, as her mother told her to.

     While Sam picks up Lesley and takes her outside, Zoë rushes to the second floor. Quickly she climbs the stairs, her shotgun ready to fire. Alert, she scans the corridor; all clear. Knowing Laura might still be inside, she takes a deep breath and busts the door to what she assumes to be one of the bedrooms. What the huntress sees inside makes her stomach turn, even though she has seen her fair share of blood and violence.

     What she feared the most has happened. Laura made her teacher die an even more horrible death than her own. Taylor has collapsed against the wall, her eyes stare at the ground, as if she was unpleasantly surprised by her attacker. But she doesn’t move, she doesn’t flinch; she’s dead. Her arms and neck seem to be broken, a bad head injury that cracked her skull giving Zoë a glimpse of her brain. Blood prints of her head and hands are smeared over the pink wall paper of her daughter’s room. Crimson stains the carpet, the teddy bears on Lesley’s bed, the covers, even the ceiling.      “Damnit, Laura,” Zoë says, breathlessly.

     Footsteps echo from the staircase behind her. She looks back and sees Jeff, running onto the corridor.      “You don’t wanna see this,” she warns, trying to keep him from the doorway.      But as she would have done, he steps inside anyway. As soon as his eye catches the sight of his wife in the state that she is, he freezes. Unable to say anything, unable to move like a deer in headlights, he looks down at her dead body as tears well up in his eyes. Zoë watches him, but she can’t get a word out of her mouth. After she swallows apprehensively, she averts her eyes away from the heart wrenching scene.

     “Taylor…” Jeff whispers as tears run down his face. The cry that follows      gives Zoë chills. “Taylor!”      In a blink of an eye this family’s life has changed forever. The woman Jeff loves dearly, the mother of his child, just got ripped away from them, murdered, and there is nothing he can do to reverse that. Zoë knows the feeling, she knows it way too well. He falls down on his knees in her blood, but he doesn’t hit the floor. He hits rock bottom.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page). 

Read chapter ten here  

#Supernatural: the Sullivan Series #Supernatural series #Dean Winchester series #Sam Winchester series #Dean Winchester x OFC #Sam Winchester x OFC #Dean angst #Sam angst #Dean Winchester #Sam Winchester #Zoë Sullivan #SPN #Supernatural #STSS #1x02 In Bad Waters #Kate Huntington

[fearfulkittenwrites]

Peaceful Afternoon - Family Bonding

Summary: What's the best way to calm down a bunch of crazed little bats? Apparently, a Lord of the Rings marathon.

Word Count: 2088

Notes: Hello! I'm slowly working my way to completing @3ambird​‘s batfam bingo. This is just fluff and Bruce being a good dad, because we're all in need of some comfort. Enjoy!

Bruce stepped into his home with an already loosened tie and his blazer in hands, handing it to Alfred as soon as he saw the man.

“Rough day in the office, sir?” The butler asks as he gently flattens and hangs the clothing piece on the coat rack at the entrance lounge.

“Yes.” He sighed, rubbing his temples “Is there any chance you could bring me some of your tea? I feel a headache coming.”

“A warm cup of tea will be coming right up, master Wayne.”

“Thank you Alfred.” He smiles at the man “I’ll be in the TV lounge.”

“Sir, I must warn you that the kids are watching TV at the moment.” Alfred says.

“Oh?” Bruce raises an eyebrow “Are they being too loud?”

Alfred thinks for a moment.

“They are unusually quiet sir.” He answers “I’d be careful around them.”

“Well,” The man tilts his head to the side “I’ll check on them. If I’m no longer there, then I’ll be in my room.”

“Very well master Wayne.” Alfred smiles “It should only take a moment.”

Bruce walks slowly to the TV lounge, examining all of his home’s details on the way ; the complicated patterns on the wallpaper, the ripples of the carpets, the harshness of the fabrics the curtains were made of. Removing his tie completely, he rolls it around his fingers carefully and sticks it in his pockets, right before walking into the room he’d been looking for. He wasn’t sure on what he was expecting to see, but the scene in front of him had him pleasantly surprised.

Dick sat at the left corner of the couch, being the one closest to the door, with Duke sitting on the ground directly in front of him, eyes closed as Dick massaged his scalp and neck. Damian sat quietly next to his oldest brother, sketching a new art piece. Cass sat by the youngest’s side, sharing a blanket and cuddling up with Tim. Jason, who was also sitting on the floor, had Tim’s legs thrown over his shoulders as he squeezed his brother’s calves lightly, eyes glued on the TV.

“Hey B.” Dick smiled at him softly and Duke opened his eyes to look at the man “Rough day?”

“A little.” He breathes deeply as he rubs the back of his neck “What are you kids doing?”

“Nothin’ much.” Dick spoke again “There was a Lord of The Rings marathon on TV, so we just... left it there. I think today’s been rough on everybody.”

“I see.” Bruce nods “Do you mind if I join you?” A bunch of ‘no’s and ‘go ahead’s were slightly murmured as Bruce sat down on the armchair close to Tim’s end of the couch. The man took a quick glance at the TV “Have they already-”

“Shhh.” Tim interrupts “Don’t spoil it for Cass.”

“Ah, Alright. I’m sorry.” He sets his eyes on his (unfortunately) not-so-little girl, noticing how Cass seemed a little pale “Is everything alright Cass? You seem a bit... off.”

She nods.

“Cramps.” Dick explains from across the couch, rubbing his own belly, right above his pubic bone, just to drive the point home.

“Oh.” Bruce blushes a little.

“C’mon, old man,” Jason teases, tapping his leg “Don’t get all flustered over your daughter’s period.”

“I’m not flustered, I just... didn’t mean to be invasive.” He straightens his posture.

“I don’t mind talking about it.” Cass says, with a small smile “It’s okay.”

“That’s good.” The man replies, leaning back on the armchair.

It only takes Alfred a few seconds to come in with the tea after that. All of them quickly recognize the scent of his medicinal blend, having needed it many times before.

“Headache?” Dick asks “I can give you a massage if you want to.”

“Yeah, just take my spot.” Duke offers.

“Don’t worry boys.” Bruce smiles “The tea helps enough by itself.”

“Alright. But if you change your mind...” Duke says, allowing his sentence to trail off as he relaxes into Dick’s touch once again.

Bruce can’t help but gawk at the film’s beautiful scenery. The only members of the family that didn’t care much for the movie were Damian and Duke, for different reasons. The younger boy wasn’t particularly fond of fantastic stories with surreal elements, finding them silly more often than not. Although he could stand Lord of The Rings, he never really made it through the whole thing, getting bored, distracted, or falling asleep halfway through it.

Duke had much milder feelings. He had watched it once and that was enough. He didn’t see any reason to rewatch such a long movie. However, Duke didn’t seem to hate the idea of having it on while he received head scratches and massages from his cuddly brothers. Bruce smiled to himself at that, looking at how Dick and him got along well, at least in moments like this.

His eyes wandered back to Cass. She seemed endlessly entertained by the movie, sometimes whispering questions about the plot to one of her brothers. She was hugging one of Tim’s arms, head resting on his shoulder. He occasionally turned around to nuzzle his face into her hair. The teen had a habit of doing that to just about anyone he felt comfortable enough to touch when given the chance.

Jason seemed equally entertained. He loved a good story, whether it came in the form of a book, a movie or a TV show. Bruce noticed that whenever he was having a hard time he revisited his favorites, seeking the comfort of predictability, so it made sense that he was watching this today, after Dick’s statement. Jason counted Tim’s toes mindlessly, giving each of them a light squeeze before moving on to the next, starting it all over again once he reached both of his pinkies.

Bruce’s eyes set on his oldest son again. His little circus boy, Dick. Noticing how he had grown into a good man made his heart swell with joy, even if the emotion came with a prick of pain. His little boy, all grown up, caring for his younger siblings. Bruce couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have found them. How lucky he was for having such an amazing family, how lucky he was that they had accepted him as their father.

Bruce was sure he was the happiest man alive. His heart was filled with love, to the point where it spilled out through his eyes, getting Dick’s attention.

“You big sap.” He mouthed at the man, no sound coming out through his lips. Bruce wiped a lonely tear away from his face with a smile, bringing his attention back to the movie. Dick knew him too well by now.

Bruce pressed his hands together under his chin, trying to hide the love that insisted on falling down his cheeks.

Eventually, the man dozed off in the middle of the first movie. He woke up when they were halfway through the second, looking at his watch and being taken aback by the time. He looked around, noticing that Damian was now asleep on Dick’s lap and Duke had brought out his computer, sitting at the armchair opposed to Bruce’s, brow furrowed in concentration. Jason was still on the floor, eyes fixed on the TV, but had moved on from Tim’s feet, using his limited knowledge on pressure points to help with Cass’ cramps, carefully pressing her feet while both of them paid attention to the movie. Tim had also fallen asleep, head hanging back on the couch and one arm around his sister’s shoulders.

Bruce checked the watch again, biting the inside of his lips. They should be getting ready for patrol by now and yet... he didn’t feel like it was fair to pull his kids away from this moment of tranquility. Dick’s eyes met his.

“It’s okay.” His son reassured him in a whisper.

“No.” Bruce says in a soft tone “You guys take the night off. I’ll call up Batwoman and Spoiler, we should be able to cover enough ground if Oracle is able to put in a little extra work.”

“B, it’s okay, I’ll go with you.” Dick replies, voice still quiet so as not to disturb the kid sleeping with his head on his lap “I’ll just tuck Dami in and we can go.”

“No, please.” Bruce stands up “This is clearly a rare moment. You need to enjoy it Dick. We’ll be fine.”

“B,” Dick insists “I need this just as much as you do.”

“Are you talking about patrol or...”

“Both.” Dick looks up at him “I’m tagging along, whether you want me there or not.”

“Alright then.” Bruce nods.

“Great.” Dick smiles “Now let’s take this sleepy boy to his bed.”

Slowly, he slips out from under Damian, carefully picking him up.

“Hmn don’t... I can walk...” Damian murmurs, face already buried in Dick’s neck.

“I’m sure you can.” Dick chuckled, adjusting the boy’s weight, one hand around his brother's waist and the other under his thighs, supporting him. The kid wrapped his arms around his brother’s neck lazily, with a weak and loose grip, almost falling asleep again in his oldest brother’s hands.

That wasn’t lost on Bruce’s eyes, who walked behind them, hands in his pockets. The man opens the door for his kids, waiting patiently next to the bed as Dick removes Damian’s shoes and pulls the blankets over his body. Both of them pressed a quick kiss to the boy’s forehead before walking out of the bedroom.

“Damian has really warmed up to you, hasn’t he?” Bruce starts.

“I guess so.” Dick shrugs, smiling at the ground “He’s a good kid, he’s just been through a lot. I try to remind him he doesn’t have to do things by himself all the time anymore. That he can lean on us.”

“That seems to be working.” Bruce smiles at his son, who retributed the look with some uncertainty “Hey, I mean it.”

“I know you do, it’s just...” Dick sighs “Sometimes all of this can feel... a little hopeless.”

“I can understand that.” He looks at his son. Bruce can understand that so well “But it’s in the little things, you know? Like right now,” He keeps going, lookin at his own shoes as they make a turn on the manor’s endless hallways “The way Damian allowed you to carry him, that was...” Bruce takes a deep breath, shaking his head slightly “He is being vulnerable around you.”

“You think so?” Dick asked, biting the inside of his lips.

“I know so. His arms,” Bruce says “When he threw them around your neck, he didn’t do so to hold on or to balance himself. Damian trusted you to hold him, and simply relaxed into your grip.”

Dick raised his eyebrows as he walked through the office’s door.

“You notice a lot of details.” Dick smiled.

“What can I say? I can’t turn the detective skills off.” He chuckles, joined by Dick’s snort “I really wish I could be more like you to him.” He stops walking.

“What are you talking about, B?” Dick frowns a little.

“I wish I knew how to be... caring.” Bruce sighs “I have no clue on how you ended up as good at it as you are today, considering… well, everything. But I’m glad you did. At least they have someone who knows how to... hold them. I’m sorry that I couldn’t do the same for you.”

Dick swallows.

“Hey, um, don’t beat yourself up over this kind of thing, okay?” He lightly touches his father’s arm “You are caring Bruce. You did hold me.” He pursed his lips. Both of them had teary eyes now.

“Not like I should have.”

“No one’s perfect. But you were there when I needed you, and that’s what counts.”

“Stop.” Bruce says, biting the insides of his mouth so hard he could taste blood “Stop... making excuses for me, Dick. I’m... I’m apologizing.” He takes in a deep breath “I know that all the damage I may have caused you won’t magically go away because I recognize that it’s there, but for what’s worth, I’ll try to do better. To be better for you.”

Suddenly, Dick surges forward, wrapping his arms around Bruce. As they hugged, Bruce could feel his son crying.

“Thank you.” Dick whispers “Thank you. I love you, dad.”

“I love you too, son.” Bruce whispers back, turning his head to plant a kiss on his cheek “So much.”

Hey! If you got here, please consider reblogging. It would mean the world to me. Also, if you’d like to be tagged in future works, just shoot me a message.

Take care friend!

#batfam #bruce wayne #dick grayson #Damian Wayne #duke thomas #cassandra cain #Tim Drake #Jason Todd

[pkg4mumtown]

Welcome to Hawkins PD (Ch. 2)

Chapter Title: Welcome to Hawkins PD

Chapter 2 of 9?

Read Chapter 1 HERE

AN: Don’t ask me why I’m torturing myself by doing 1st person cover art, now. I have roughly 9 chapters outlined so far and it probably won’t go more than that. Hope you enjoy.

Warnings: Smoking, cursing, Hopper trying to be funny

Summary: You get to know your Chief a bit more as you make your way into Hawkins.

Taglist: @kingphillipblake​

If you'd like to be in my taglist (for this fic or everything) or removed, lmk. I'm not tagging anyone I had on my "all writing" list last year because I don't know if they still feel the same!

The start of the drive was uncomfortably tense. My nervousness was more obvious as I took my sunglasses off, allowing the Chief to see my eyes darting around the cab. I eventually let my gaze focus on the passing trees and forestry, getting lost in the green blur.

“Not too chatty, huh? We’ll get along just fine,” Hopper smirked as he basically asked and answered himself. He glanced at me for any kind of reaction, instead seeing me zoned out, “You okay, kid?”

I hadn’t been intentionally ignoring him but was snapped out of my stupor by the word “kid” hanging in the air.

“Kid?” he asked again.

“I’m not a kid,” I snapped and crossed my arms. I mumbled under my breath, hoping he wouldn’t yell at me as the words left my mouth, “I’m twenty-seven years old for Christ’s sake.”

Hopper simply raised his eyebrows and scoffed, “Sure got the hearing of one.” He tapped his steering wheel rhythmically and pursed his lips, “Twenty-seven, huh?”

“Mhmm, why?”

“Just older than what usually passes through the academy is all,” he shrugged.

“Yea, well, I tried to be a good little secretary and then a telephone operator just like mom and dad said but…” I trailed off.

“But what?”

“I fucking hated it, sir,” I sighed, suddenly remembering my manners. “When I told them I wanted to join a police department, they figured I meant as a secretary or a dispatcher. Imagine their horror when I packed up and told them their little girl was off to be a cop.”

“Old fashioned folks,” Hopper nodded.

“Still not an excuse, sir,” I grumbled.

“You can drop the ‘sir’ act, Y/L/N. You’re not a recruit anymore. ‘Chief’ or ‘Hopper’ work just fine at our station.”

“Sorry, s—Chief,” I murmured.

“It’s fine,” he brushed it off with a wave of his hand. “So, they didn’t come to your graduation?”

“Nope,” I punctuated by popping the “p”.

“Christ, I’m sorry…”

“My best friend came, at least. She got me these,” I smiled, pointing to the glasses that hung from my uniform.

Hopper chuckled at the sight of the glasses mimicking his own, “Yea, that’s a necessary part of the uniform. Next is the hat,” he tilted the brim down and winked.

I let out a not-so-feminine snort as both of our laughter filled the truck. I was worried I’d been too rude before, so I was grateful for the break in tension. I covered my mouth as I laughed, feeling Hopper’s stare as his chest vibrated.

“What?” I asked as I caught him staring instead of paying attention to the empty road.

“Nothin', just the first time I’ve seen you laugh. You’ve been so serious up until now,” he looked away quickly. “It looks good on you, y’know?” he added, his voice barely a murmur.

I felt my face heat up at his words and if his ears were any indication, he was embarrassed as well. I didn’t have to be a detective to see that. I cleared my throat and murmured my thanks before growing silent again.

“So, um, they help you get set up with a place in town already?” Hopper changed the subject.

“Uh, no, I’m gonna stay at a motel for a couple days while I get that and transportation sorted.”

“What!? No, no, no, no,” he replied quickly. “Trust me, you don’t want any part of those motels,” Hopper gave me a terrified glance, like he’d definitely seen some shit there. “I’ve got a trailer I moved out of that you can rent from me.”

“Chief, really, it’s okay. I can—”

“Y/L/N,” he cut me off with a pointed glare. “You can stay there as long as you want or until you find somewhere better. I’m not gonna charge you an arm and a leg for rent,” he reassured me.

“Thanks, I really appreciate that,” I gave him a small smile.

“Hey, I’m not as big a jerk as everyone says I am, alright?” Hopper grumbled.

“Who says that?”

“You’ll see,” he shook his head and sighed. “We can swing by the utilities office when we get there and get everything turned on for ya.”

The rest of the drive managed to fly by as we chatted, nothing too personal and mostly more about me than him. He drove me to the trailer after getting everything sorted out with the utilities and setting me up to make payments. The long driveway to the trailer crunched under his tires but the bumpy ride was worth the view in the secluded area.

“This is it,” he grunted as he put the Blazer in park.

“This view is great, why’d you move?” I asked as I took in the surroundings and spotted the lake behind the trailer.

“Eh, it’s just too small,” he motioned towards his torso with his hand.

I rose an eyebrow at him, letting my gaze land on his torso, flick over to the trailer, and back over to his face, “You’re not that big.”

“You know,” he started with a mischievous grin as he opened the driver’s side door, “a less secure man would have taken offense to that.”

“Chief!” was all I could manage to berate him with as he turned away from me and broke out in to laughter.

We jumped out of the truck at the same time and this time I didn’t protest when he offered to help me with my bags. His keys jingled softly as he stomped up the stairs and unlocked the door to the trailer. Hopper and his obscenely thick fingers fought with the keyring for a moment before finally freeing the key and handing it over to me.

“Here,” he murmured and held the metal between two fingers, effectively dwarfing the key, “and there’s a spare key under the first step,” he nodded outside.

Hopper took a couple spins around the living room and sniffled loudly, “Little musty, sorry. Um, I left quite a few things here, so it might just need some picking up and dusting. I kinda moved in a hurry.”

“It’s not a problem, it’ll give me something to do, Chief,” I reassured him.

We fell into an awkward silence, causing Hopper to step semi-discreetly to the door. He fished his pockets for his business card as he spoke, “Well, uh, if you need anything…”

I graciously accepted the card from him, “Actually, Chief, d'ya happen to have a map on you? So, I can figure my way around this place by Monday?”

“Shit, what am I thinking?” Hopper murmured to himself, realizing he’d just dropped me off seemingly in the middle of nowhere without a sense of direction. His brows knitted together in thought, making his thinking face look angry, “I can show you around right now if you want? Maybe grab lunch while we’re at it as a…congrats?” His lips pushed up and his eyes squinted as he waited for my answer.

“You don’t have to do that, really. I’m sure you have better things to do on a Saturday,” I tried to refuse. “I can manage with just a map.”

“My daughter is at her friend’s house, so I would either sit at the station bored off my ass or drink myself to sleep at home,” Hopper pursed his lips and feigned thinking with his hands on his hips, “Or I can give you a welcome tour.”

I laughed at this ridiculous man and his antics and finally relented, “Fine, but let me change at least.”

Hopper agreed and showed me the rest of the trailer. It was hard not to imagine this hulking man living in this tight trailer as he effortlessly stalked through the rooms. I could almost see his body engulfing the small couch or his broad shoulders bumping walls when he’d get drunk. The tour ended in the bedroom with a bare mattress and the floor littered with the odd empty pack of cigarettes. I tossed my duffel on the bed and started sifting through the civilian clothes I had packed. I heard Hopper open the closet and make a low noise of surprise.

“Hey, I left clothes here,” he held up a red flannel shirt from the closet, which contained a couple pairs of pants and a few random shirts. “A change wouldn’t hurt, nothing happens on the weekends,” Hopper brought the shirt to his nose and grimaced, but shrugged and piled it in one arm anyway. “If this shit gets in your way, feel free to throw it in a bag and chuck it in my office.”

I had pulled out jeans, a shirt, and a sweater and laid them on the bed. By the time Hopper turned back around with his findings, I had halfway unbuttoned my uniform shirt without thinking twice.

“Woah, woah, woah!” Hopper held up his free hand to his eyes right away. “At least let me leave first, Y/L/N! For Pete's sake…” Hopper felt his way out of the room, nearly tripping when his foot caught on the threshold.

As we got back in the Blazer, Hopper chucked his uniform in the back seat. He fetched a pack of Camels from his pocket and held them up in question.

“Mind?”

“Not if I can bum one off you, Chief,” I smirked, grabbing my bun and releasing my hair from its confines. I slipped my hair tie around my wrist and shook my hair out, not really caring how it looked, only that my scalp could breathe.

The corner of Hopper’s mouth turned up before he was shaking the box and pulling out a cigarette. He let it rest between his lips, then turned the box toward me so I could grab one for myself.

“First things first,” he mumbled around the cigarette while lighting it. I leaned my head forward as he brought the lighter towards me. After, I leaned back in my seat, hearing the snap of the lighter closing before I saw his hand extending towards me. “Jim,” his lips closed loosely to avoid dropping the cigarette as he waited with an open palm.

I shook his offered hand, fighting the urge explore the ridges of his palm, “Y/N.”

We took off in the direction of town, silently filling the Blazer with smoke. I tried my best to memorize my surroundings as Hopper pointed out different stores and buildings. He rambled about the owners of certain places, far more than just a Chief might know.

“You grow up here?” I wondered aloud.

“Yea,” he let out a silent laugh, releasing smoke from his lungs as he did. “Moved back about six years ago or so. Good catch.”

We pulled into the diner parking lot, just as my cigarette reached its end, “Damn, I’m sad that’s gone,” I spoke mainly to myself.

“Yea, Bridge got mad at me for trying to bring one when I visited ILEA a month back. How long were you deprived?” Hopper joked while getting out of the car.

“Mm, four months and change,” I answered slowly as if I was unsure.

“Ouch,” he grimaced and stepped ahead of me to open the diner door like it was the most natural thing in the world.

I pushed down my tendency to blush but failed, instead using my hair to block my cheeks from Hopper's eyes. What can I say? I had a thing for old fashioned manners.

He nodded a silent greeting to a waitress and made a beeline for an empty booth, because I guess when you’re the Chief you can just do that. After receiving an odd look from the waitress as we ordered drinks and more stares from women in the diner, I shifted in my seat uncomfortably. The waitress came back around to take our food orders and drop off our drinks, my drink earning me a mocking eyebrow from Hopper.

“Milkshake? Really?” he choked out a laugh around his cup of coffee.

“Excuse me, I’m still allowed the rest of the day to celebrate, Chief,” I replied with an air of pride and a smidgen of sass as I wrapped my lips around the straw.

“You’re right, you’re right,” he chuckled and shook his head, staring down at his coffee and then glancing out the window in a quick canvas.

“Thank you, though,” I started, causing him to meet my eyes. “Thank you for celebrating with me when my own family wouldn’t.”

Hopper swirled his coffee before speaking, “Guess you could say…we’re your family, now.” He raised the mug up and toward me, so I did the same with my glass. He tapped our glasses together in a toast and let a satisfied smile spread over his lips, “Welcome to Hawkins PD.”

I nodded enthusiastically and brought the straw back to my mouth, “Yea, I'll drink to that.”

I sipped on the shake, casually glancing around the dining area and seeing quickly averted eyes. I chewed my straw and furrowed my brows in thought. I’d been silently pondering for so long that I hadn’t realized Hopper was watching the wheels turn in my head.

“What’s up?”

“Mm,” I made a noise indicating I’d heard him as I swallowed. “Why am I being stared at by every woman here?”

“Well,” he cleared his throat, “Small town, new face…women gossip, is the first reason.”

“And the second?”

Hopper took a deep breath through his nose, “Remember when I said that everyone thinks I’m a jerk?”

I simply nodded in understanding.

“Well, ‘everyone’ meant…women.”

We sat in silence for a few seconds while his words washed over me. My eyebrows flew up as I realized what he meant while my hand moved to hide my laughter.

“No!” I gasped in amused shock behind my hand as I deciphered his words.

“Yeah,” he rubbed his brow and grimaced at my shocked face.

I leaned forward on my elbows, smiling widely. His playfully forlorn face told me he knew I’d figured it out and was waiting for the impending grief I was going to lay on him. “Chief…you’re a slut?” I couldn’t hold back the giggle that escaped my lips.

“Correction, I used to be a slut, alright?” he rolled his eyes. “I stopped when I adopted my daughter.”

“Mhmm,” I raised an eyebrow at him as if I didn’t believe him.

“I’m serious!”

After eating, fighting over paying for lunch (a fight he won), and taking me to the grocery store (yet another fight he won), we pulled up to the trailer. Hopper helped me take the bags inside and lingered in the living room.

“If I have any questions,” I showed him the map I stole from his Blazer, “I’ll call you.”

“I’ll keep an ear out,” he smirked and opened the trailer door.

I held the door open as he walked out, stopping when I spoke up, “Wish me luck buying my own car tomorrow.”

Hopper stopped in his tracks and turned around, “What were you gonna do? Walk to the dealership?”

“Uh, bus?”

“No,” he shook his head, turned, and kept walking, “I’ll pick you up at ten tomorrow.”

“Chief!” I protested, but he kept walking to his Blazer.

“They’re less likely to haggle you if the Chief of Police is there, alright!?” he shouted back, not giving me another chance to speak as he got in the truck.

Chapter 3

Hopper stuck his arm out of the window, offering a passive wave of his hand and a smile as he turned the truck around. I leaned against the doorframe and waved back, wondering how in the hell I was supposed to survive a career next to Jim Hopper.

#jim hopper fanfiction #jim hopper x you #jim hopper x reader #chief hopper x reader #chief hopper x you #chief hopper fanfiction #david harbour fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction

[dyke-remy]

Live And Let Die, part 1

Part 2    Part 3    Part 4   Part 5   Part 6 

Description: Agent 008 and Agent 009, professional spies for the MI6 with liscense to kill. Partners in both work and love. After an agent goes missing the partners have to once more go out into the field. (It’s a James Bond AU)

You don’t need to know anything about James Bond to be able to read this fic, trust me

Words: 3516

It was 7 am when the alarm clock went off. It's loud blaring filled the room that had been peaceful a few seconds ago. Remus let out a grunt. Without opening his eyes he took out a knife from under his pillow and threw it at the clock. The noise disappeared.

"You can't keep doing that" Remy muttered, half yawning it out "Q is like running out of clocks"

"If he could make that morning star that also worked as a disco ball for my birthday he can make some new clocks" He replied.

The room (and the entire apartement) was of average size with just enough space for everything necessary. Which made sense, they didn't spend much time in there anyway. Soft morning light was shimmering in through the window.

The blanket had been wrinkled since Remy was laying over it with their head on the pillow. Remus had his arms wrapped around their waist. They were so close their hair twined together on the pillows. He leaned closer and gave his spouse a good morning kiss.

Their slow awakening was interrupted by someone knocking on the door. They glanced at one another as their expressions turned serious. Remus quietly got up and grabbed the gun laying on the nearest drawer. Butt naked as he was he sneaked over to the door and slowly opened it and at the same time held the gun out.

"Good morn- AAAHHHH!" Patton Moneypenny screamed when he saw the gun peeking out at him. He had on a dark blue knitted suit jacket with stylish bows instead of buttons. With it he had on wide blue matching suit pants.

Remus' posture relaxed when he saw who it was. He fully opened the door "Hiya Moneypenny. You should yell it's you next time or else your brain might paint the walls.....That would look kinda nice tho"

"You should take something on" Patton suggested with a cheerful smile while his cheeks went bright red.

"He should" Remy who had come up behind their husband agreed "One day someone will shoot your dick off"

"Naaaahhhh. They will be too surprised by seeing my massive cock to think about attacking me and then it'll be too late. Boom bang dead! It's a genius tactic!!"

Remy rolled their eyes. They sent Patton a warm smile before pulling him into a hug "Hiya PatPat! Wanna come in?"

"Yeah" As he looked around the room which he'd been in many times he continued with "M wants to meet you in 15 min"

M was the leader of the MI6, the organisation they all worked for. Patton had been his secretary for as long as anyone could remember. It would be weird to imagine M's office without Pat working tiredlesly on his desk right outside.

"15? Girl a lady needs time to get ready, what the fuck" Remy opened a drawer and pulled out the black suit pants, white shirt, black tie and black blazer that acted as their dress code.

"15? Oh! Too little time to spend with my Favorite person in the whole MI6!" Remus exclaimed. He still didn't have anything on.

He took Patton's hand and moved the other to lay on his waist. He spun him around in some sort of dance which made the shorter man giggle and blush harder. He tried not to look down at Remus'....

"Oh Mr. Moneypenny! Rotten apple of my eye! Every mission is spent missing you!" he continued to dramatically lament. He dipped Patton and playfully moved in for a kiss.

Patton let out a chuckle while leaning his head away. "I'm married"

"Ah yes! The greatest tragedy of my life!" Remus held his hand over his heart and all.

"Tragedy indeed" Remy commented before flicking their finger to the back of their husband's head. They dumped his clothes onto his head too "C'mon gal the sooner you get done the sooner you can go out and play fisticuffs with someone"

"Fantastic point dear!"

After gettin dressed Remus jumped up on the bed and pressed a specific spot on the painting on the wall. It turned around to reveal a collection of guns, knives and various other weapons hidden behind it. He patted his morning star and throwing stars goodmorning, fully knowing that M nor Q would allow him to bring them on a mission. Instead he took a gun and carefully cleaned it as if he was cleaning a marble vase.

"I hate these fucking suits. They're so boring. No style. No style at all!!" Remy groaned out while tying their husband's tie because he'd been a spy for 7 years now and he still couldn't tie a tie.

Patton nodded along in sympathy "Very gay of you to think that" The duke chuckled.

They fixed his shirt which had been buttoned wrong "I don't think about fashion because I am gay as fuck! I think about it 'cause I've tots been the most fantastic disguiser here for years and fashion is like integral to a good disguise!! Besides my mothers are fashion legends and I gotta represent y'know"

"I know"

He handed over a gun (Handler ppk) and a few different knives to his spouse who swiftly hid it in different places on their suit. He himself preffered a bit more heavy handed attilery even when it came to handguns.

The couple followed Moneypenny out of their apartement. They lived in a normal looking apartement complex, a little bit fancier than a normal one. They went into a cleaning scrub.

Patton grabbed a mop standing in the corner. He pulled off the top of the handle revealing a scanner underneath. He pressed his thumb against it. A panel of numbers appeared on the wall. He quickly pressed in a code which finally made the inner wall open up, revealing an elevator.

They stepped inside and chit chatted about the weather and what they'd done on the weekend as the elevator went down.

The elevator opened with a satisfying ding. They were many many levels underground now. Long grey hallways stretched forward. It could be a maze for someone new to the place. Patton walked in front of the other two, he knew it like his backpocket.

After 5 or so minutes of walking he stopped by his secretary desk and sat down. There were stacks of paper work on his desk and cute animal posters hanging on the wall beside him.

Remus leaned over the desk and moved a piece of Patton's hair behind his ear "One day I'll get you on a date my dear Moneypenny"

"Sure you will mr. Octopussy. For now I think you will have to stay satisfied with taking whatever mission M gives you"

Remy took Remus' hand and dragged him with them into M's office. He was able to blow a kiss to Patton on his way in. Pat simple chuckled and rolled his eyes. They both knew neither of them were serious.

The office was an old fashioned one with walls and furniture of dark wood. Purple satin clad the windows. Plants and terrariums littered the room and all kinds of snakes slittered about.

Though the biggest snake of them all sat in the chair behind the desk. M. Most people called him Deceit. He had a menacing smile, ebony skin and dark hair pulled back into a braid that reached his shoulder. On his shoulder laid one of his most dearest and most deadliest pets.

"Look who finally decided to join us" M greeted as they came in.

"Aww you missed us so much didn't you??" Remus replied while sitting down on one of the chairs in a way no normal person should "It's okay Deecy. We can invite you to our next movie night"

"Yeah" Remy sat down on the desk and leaned close to Deceit "We're gonna watch Saw 4 and legally blond"

"I can think of much better ways to waste my time thank you. So onto ghe case. It's about-"

M stopped talking because the agents were obviously too busy flirting with each other to listen. It was nothing compared to how they used to spend entire briefings making out right when they'd started dating.

"Please if I wanted to get ignored I would go home to my children which honestly I wish I could" M muttered.

He gave one of his snakes a pat on the head before sending it to twist around Remus' neck which made them both shut up very quickly.

"So about the case. Agent 0012-"

"Like Emile Picani 0012?" Remy interrupted.

"No agent 0012 the giant whale. Yes Picani"

"Oh he's a great kisser! Babe y'know how I like worked in the Q department a bit before becoming a full fletched agent. Yeah I was Pic's quartermaster. We would stay together during missions sometimes. We made out lots and he showed me a bunch of like cartoons"

Deceit put on a more serious expression "He's gone off the radar. He was sent on a mission to Latvia together with 005. Agent 005 has been confirmed dead. Right now we're suspecting that Picani is the killer"

"He wouldn't!" Remy objected.

"We can never be sure. He could have gone rough or been paid to turn sides. Or he's being tortured right at this moment. Anything could have happened"

"I wish I was being tortured right at this moment" Remus who had completely zoned out until now added.

"Well you can gladly take his place if you found him then. He and 005 were supposed to attend a poker night. I suggest you two attend it in case he is there. Disguised of course. If he's gone rough we can't have him be hostile towards you if he recognises you.

"Non suspicious straight couple?" Remus asked while looking over at Remy.

"Non suspicious straight couple!" They replied while high fiveing him.

--

A bit over a day later later Remus was driving a silver aston martin. They were on their way to the casino which was placed away from any nearby town. Among the snowy hills the ice casino stood tall.

"Girl these shoes hurt worse than the time I got shot" Remy groaned while fixing their high heels.

"You can just change shoes y'know" Remus replied.

They looked at him as if he'd just spit in their food "No??? It's part of the character girl!! Like you can't do a great disguise if you don't dress like the character would"

"Which characters are we tonight?"

Remy shone up into a smile "Glad you asked! You are Louis Roy. French guy who inheritated his dad's company. Total asshole. Straight cis you know the type. You're 36-"

"Is that why you put all that make up on me? To make me look old?"

"Yep. And your mustache tots helped. I'm Chelsea Roy. 24. Model. Married you for the money. Housewife. I'm cheating on you with your dad"

Remus let out a fake audible gasp "In return I only married you because I liked your feet model work"

"Touche"

The car stopped in the parking lot of the casino. Remus leaned back in his seat and checked his gun. He glanced over at his spouse who was strapping a blade to their thigh.

"What?" They asked when they caught him looking.

"Nothing" There was a soft smile on his lips "I just love you. Like a giant elephants heart ripped out and bleeding on the ground love y'know"

"I know"

Remy unbuttoned the top button on Remus' tuxedo shirt. They pressed a kiss right below his shoulder, leaving a red lipstick mark, before buttoning it again so it was hidden.

"Just as a reminder" They explained with a cheeky smile.

Remy leanded against Remus' shoulder to fully look like arm candy as they entered the casino. A worker took their coats by the door. Uphead was a luxurious bar made of ice and a large area with tables here and there to mingle. To the left was the casino area. It was the only place where nothing was made out of ice. Instead glistening lights shone on red slot machines and people in expensive clothing were gathered around large poker tables. To the right was the entrance to the casino's hotel and the desk to get keys.

The couple casully went around the mingle area while looking for Picani in the crowd of hundreds of people.

"People are looking at you" Remus mumbled to them after at least 2 guys has been too busy looking at his spouse to not walk into walls.

"Who can blame them" Remy shrugged.

They had on a dark blue satin dress with an open back and a slit on the front so they could move easier. Their wavy light brown hair was pressed down under a blond wig and they had a fake sapphire necklace around their neck. Their dark eyeliner stood out against their pale skin. Remus had on a black tuxedo with a matching bowtie. His dark brown, nearly black hair had been slicked back. His olive toned bordering on brown skin honestly looked amazing in the lighting of the casino.

"Q said Picani was supposed to stay in room 235 so I'll like go and get the key while you like mingle or something I dunno. Kay?" Remy more commanded then asked.

"Yes dear! " He did a mini salute while sticking his tounge out before walking away.

All the keys to the rooms were hanging on the wall behind the desk. Remy took off their necklace while walking up to it. They fixed their posture and took a deep breathe to get ready to make their voice as high as possible.

"Exscuse me sir!" They put on a panicked tone as they walked behind the desk.

The man who presumebly worked at the hotel glanced at them before doing a double take and full on looking at them with heart eyes. "Something wrong?"

They put on a bright smile and twirled the end of their hair between their fingers "Yeah I uh just kinda dropped my necklace and it's like suuuper hard to put on by my own so could you like put it on for me? Pleease?"

"Of course!"

Remy handee him the necklace and turned towards the wall. While he was busy putting it on they took the keys to room 235 without making a single sound. In one smooth motion they stuck it to where the blade was already strapped to their thigh.

"Done!" He said.

They sent him another smile "Do I look good?"

"You look amazing!!"

"Aww thanks sweetie"

They sauntered of without another word. They took a glass of champange from a server they passed to look more casual. They inspected the key while looking for Remus. When they stuck their nails down into it a mark was left if only for a moment. It was a fake.

Remus was sitting by the poker table, loudly boosting about a made up story while betting way more money than he should. He shone up into a grin when he saw Remy. They leaned on his chair and moved one hand to comb through his hair. He moved an arm around their waist to pull them closer knowing fully well that his spouse was distracting everyone else in the poker game.

"Got the key?" He whispered.

"Got the key. It's a replica. I can see it"

"Okay so Picani has the other one. Makes sense. Now we know he's alright"

"Nah girl" Remy glanced around at the other players "Trick them into shoving their keys. Trust me"

"I always do" Remus put on a cocky smirk and leaned his elbows onto the table "Isn't this game becoming a bit boring? How about this: we all bet the amount of money our hotel rooms cost. Including the ones just for the ladies if you get me hurr hurr" He took out the key to his room he'd gotten from Q and laid it on the table "Just as a showing"

Most of the people had been drinking so they all threw up their keys without much thought. Remy subtly moved around the table and glanced at the keys while Remus continued with the game.

Remy stopped midstepped and quickly walked back to him. They made it look like they were kissing his cheek when they were actually whispering

"The mistah on the other side of the table was the one who threw the second 235 key. You know his name or do I have to like pretend flirt the ugly bastard?"

"Ron Stewart. Was real quick to introduce himself just to brag about his money"

"Good. Q can deal with like finding info about him. We gotta find Picani"

They grabbed him by his arm and dragged him up from the table. Remus made some comment about women always hurrying to the other people around the table while quickly throwing his cards away.

He took their hand in his and intertwined their fingers as they entered the hotel part. Ice chandelierd hung in the hallways and deep crimson mattresses where laid over the icy floor. He held his other hand close to where his gun holster was hidden under his jacket.

The door up to the second floor was locked. The two of them glanced at each other. Now they relly knew something was off. Remy took out 2 hairpins from their wig and unlocked the door in under 3 minutes.

The hallways were eerie and quiet. The lights were low and the sounds from the casino were now only dull faraway whispers.

Sudden footsteps were heard. Remy pressed their back against the wall and pulled Remus by his collar into a deep kiss. Out of the corner of their eye they saw a guard walk into the hallway. It was clear there was a gun hidden in a holster connected to his belt. The enby hoped he would just leave them alone if they made out hard enough. It usually worked.

When he saw them his already grumpy expression turned into a grimace. He grabbed onto Remus' shoulder and forced him out of the kiss.

"Visitors aren't allowed on the second floof" He said in a gruff voice.

"Oh come on. Whats a guy gotta do to get some privacy" Remus replied while keeping his arm around Remy's shoulder. They nodded along while blinking innocently and swaying back and forth.

The guard seemed to think for a moment. He took a step back before in a split second pulling out his gun and pointing it at them.

Remus went on instinct as he moved forward and forced the gun out of his hand. He stood like a shield in front of Remy in case it shot. The guard stumbled back as the gun was dragged out of his hands.

Remy shot forward. They dug their nails down into the guard's wrist and kicked his knee to get him off his balance. With a huff they turned around and with the motion swung him over their shoulder and down on the ground. Before he even had time to regain his breathe they kicked their foot onto his neck, knocking him out instantly.

"Should keep him out for long enough" They commented while leaning down to feel his pulse.

"I love it when you do that sudden kissy thing. I wish murderous people would walk in on us more so you'd do it more often" Remus replied.

"Babe you can literally ask me to kiss you whenever"

"It's not the same if the threat of death isn't looming over us!!" Remus did an overexagarated pout.

Remy stood up and moved the blade on their thigh to their hand "Leave that to when we've found Picani" They said while continuing into the next hallway.

Remus quickly followed them, even walking a bit before them so if another guard showed up they would shoot at him first. "So eager to see him huh?"

"Duh. He was like the closest thing I had to a boyfriend before I met you. Like sure we were never official but we kissed and did all that sorta couplesy stuff. I haven't seen him like years! I wanna catch up y'know"

"Do I have to be afraid of being replaced" Remus joked.

They bumped against his shoulder "Babe neva!"

He was about to reply with something lovey dovey but the conversation immediatly stopped as they both saw it. Room 235. The door stood slightly open.

They moved silently, weapons in hand. Remy was the first in. They looked around with urgency in their eyes. They searched through the entrance before going into the bedroom. Remus checked the bathroom but there wasn't a trace of him. No traces of other people either.

A sudden choked back sob came from the bedroom. Remus ran to it while holding back the urge to yell out his lover's name.

Remy stood with shaking shoulders by the door. On the floor with his back leaned against the bed sat Emile Picani. Dead.

#not countdown #live and let die #reblogs over likes #(but likes are still very appreciated) #sanders sides #thomas sanders #remy sanders #remus sanders #ts remy #ts remus #janus sanders #ts janus #ts patton #patton sanders #resleep #remsleep #intrusleep #rem^2 #if this flops I will jump off a bridge #/j

[edie-k]

Legally Ginger - Chapter 3 "What, Like It's Hard?"

Title: Legally Ginger Chapter 3: "What Like It's Hard?"

Rating: Teen (I'm sorry Ron and I are equally fond of the f word)

Summary: Based off the movie Legally Blonde. Ron makes the move to Boston but his Harvard career is off to a rough start.

Author Notes: I do want to caveat that not everyone who attends an Ivy League school is a snob so no offense to anyone that did; it’s just a fun romcom stereotype.

Additionally, I felt the need to address that it can be a bit scary for anyone to stalk someone across the country but particularly a man stalking a woman across country is historically problematic. Unfortunately, given it's basically the entire plot of this story, we can't completely avoid it. So remember, this is a fun thing in movies but a red flag in real life.

And yes, I do crib more from the movie on the curriculum. I did not attend law school and can use the help. So I bolded the language that was either verbatim or heavily cribbed from the movie.

Chapter title is a movie quote.

Thank you so much to adnei for all of the beta help and feedback!

I've been so excited to share this chapter with all of you and I think when you get to the end, you'll know why. Let me know what you think!

Link to AO3 or read more below.

“All set then?” asked his dad, closing the back of the old Ford Escape Bill had passed off to him.

“I think that’s all of it,” Ron agreed.

“Well, I’ll go get your mother then to see you off,” Dad said.

The twins and Ginny were standing on the curb, having already loaded the boxes they carried in the vehicle.

“Well, in two days, you’ll be knocking on Astoria’s door to find out if this crazy plan worked.”

Ron laughed. “Not exactly. Hopefully I run into her the first week.”

George’s jaw dropped. “You spent 90k of Muriel’s cash and wasted the best party semester of your life to hope to run into her?”

He hadn’t gone the entire spring semester without seeing Stori. She’d sought him out a few times for a bit of, as she put it, mutual stress relief, but refused to discuss anything further about their relationship. She had bid him a teary goodbye at their commencement ceremony, where he had been evasive about his post graduation plans.

“The point was to be worthy of her, not scare her. Ginny, imagine you get drafted by the Red Stars and suddenly that douche you dated, Corner, is working there as the strength and conditioning coach. You’d be freaked out.”

“It’s a good point,” said Ginny.

“Look, I’ll show up, I’ll get to know everyone, make my connections, and charm the professors. She’ll know I’m there without me ever telling her.”

“You never faded into the background at CULA,” Fred agreed.

“I’ll say hi if I see her but she’ll be knocking on my door by October,” Ron said confidentially.

“Oh yeah?” George’s voice was skeptical.

“You didn’t think I’d make it this far,” pointed out Ron. “It’s… it’s got to work.”

Suddenly, he felt his confidence drop. Was this a stupid plan?

“Best of luck, bro,” said Fred, giving him a one armed hug.

“Regardless of everything… Ron, you got into Harvard. Harvard. Don’t let them take that away from you,” Ginny said fiercely.

“Yeah, yeah, you sound like Mom now,” Ron said, brushing her off before his cheeks could burn. “Where’s she at? I’m burning daylight here.”

“I’m right here,” said his mom, walking out the front door of the ranch home he’d grown up in, holding a cooler. “I have some sandwiches to at least get you through the first day on the road,”

“First hour maybe,” George scoffed.

“Thanks Mom,” he took the cooler and stuck it in the car. When he turned back around, his dad had joined them again.

“Well, this is it,” he said awkwardly.

“Oh… Ginny, go pack a bag and join your brother. We’ll buy you a plane ticket home. Or I can come along,” his mom blurted out, nervously twisting her hands.

“Mom,” Ron groaned.

“Molly, he’ll be okay,” his dad said gently.

“Call me once a day,” Mom said. “Just during the trip,” she added, when Ron started to object.

“Okay,” he agreed. He drew her into a hug.

After he’d said goodbye to each of them, he whistled. “Pig, come on boy!” The pug ran across the yard and allowed Ron to scoop him up and put him in the passenger seat. He climbed into the driver’s seat and swallowed hard. Was this a big mistake?

“We’re so proud of you, son,” his dad said.

“We’ll see you at Christmas?” his mom asked.

Ron didn’t trust his voice so he just nodded and closed the car door. He started the vehicle and with one last wave, he backed out of the driveway.

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

Five days later, Ron’s alarm was blaring.

“What fucking time is it?” he muttered, slamming the sleep button. In response, Pig grunted and rolled over.

It had been four days of naps and showers at truck stops, coffee, Monster, and fast food but he’d arrived yesterday in order to get a decent night’s sleep before today’s orientation. He, however, had failed to calculate in the three hour time difference that combined with his driving fatigue, was wreaking havoc on his mind and body.

He sighed and went to a still packed box marked “clothes”. He immediately groaned. His khakis were wrinkled as hell. Should have hung them in the bathroom last night when he showered to at least get a little help from the steam.

Luckily, he had a couple dress shirts in the garment bag with his sports coat and two suits. During his brother Percy’s summer visit, he’d used one of Ron’s rare free days to take him shopping. Percy had gotten some advice from a friend of his that attended the University of Chicago on law school attire and had insisted Ron needed at least three suits.

Ron, who was expecting that this whole thing would be wrapped up by spring, balked at the idea but finally agreed to one new suit to go with the one he already owned, a blazer, khakis, and a few polo shirts. He had shirts and tie combos from various formal and semi-formal events, but doubted he’d need much of it. Percy’s friend had said classes were business casual and while his golf shirts were comfortable enough, Ron really hoped that by the second week, everyone was wearing hoodies in class.

He finished getting ready and then grabbed Pig’s leash. “Come on boy,” he prodded the slumbering pug. “If you don’t go now, you’ll be holding it all day.”

They walked the campus, enjoying the morning quiet. While it didn’t give Ron the ease and sense of belonging CULA did, it was an impressive campus. For a moment, he wished he’d taken his mom up on the offer to come out with him - she’d love to see this. He hated the loneliness he felt and was glad to see Pig do his business. Sooner he could get to orientation and meet some people, the better.

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

Orientation had been a mix of boring and interesting. He’d slipped in right at the last minute and sat in the back row to ensure he went unnoticed if he were in the same group of students as Astoria. Luckily, he didn’t notice her in the room. While he missed her terribly, he hadn’t come this far to destroy his plans now, and running into her before classes even started was not the plan.

Now they had moved into the social mixer part of the evening, which he was delighted to see that unlike undergrad, law school mixers included booze.

“Uh… you have anything local?” Ron asked the bartender.

“Nothing craft but I do have Dogfish Head,” the bartender said.

“That’ll do,” Ron responded, sticking a dollar in the tip cup. Had Astoria accepted his proposal, maybe he would have pursued the Boston Beer job and he’d have cases of this stuff in their kitchen. The bartender handed him a glass full of his other life and he wandered over to a small group of people, chatting.

“Hi, Ron Weasley,” he said sticking out his hand to the woman on his right.

“Uh, hi,” she said, sounding surprised but not unfriendly. “Lisa Turpin.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Ernie MacMillan,” said a blonde man, standing next to Lisa. Ron shook his hand and then shook the hand of the man next to him who introduced himself as Jack Sloper.

“We were just discussing undergrads,” Ernie said. “Jack and I were both Princeton men, although I took a gap year in Europe so different classes. Lisa here was an Eli. How about you?”

Ron inwardly winced. This guy sounded so pompous. An Eli, really? Anyone who watched a few seasons of Gilmore Girls knew what that was. Ron took a deep breath. “West coast here. I graduated from CULA.”

“That’s a solid state school system,” said Ernie. It wasn’t an insult, but when he said it, somehow it sounded like one.

“Yeah, well, it got the job done,” he said, forcing his friendliest tone.

“What were your undergrad degrees in?” Jack asked the group.

“I’m afraid I’m a bit of a stereotype. Political science for me,” Ernie chuckled.

“Same,” said Lisa. “Although I double majored in French.”

“I was a double major as well. Economics and Spanish,” Jack responded.

“There just wasn’t time for a double major while I was student body president, I’m afraid,” Ernie said. “What about you, Ron?”

“Uh, yeah, just the one major for me. Food science,” he said self-consciously.

“Food science,” Lisa repeated, her tone again not unfriendly but certainly not welcoming. Ron’s whole body stiffened.

“Like cooking?” asked Jack skeptically.

“No, there are a few different concentrations but I was focused on food biochemistry and microbiology,” he explained.

“I think the only micro I’m aware of with food is microwaves or microbrewing,” Jack said, letting out a condescending chuckle.

“Actually, brewing was a big part of my internship last summer. I was at Anheuser-Busch working on their new sustainable brewing initiative,” he said.

“Interesting,” said Lisa. “Ernie, where did you spend your time abroad?”

“I assume you’re interested in whether I spent any time in France, which I can assure you that I did.”

“I hope when you say France, you don’t just mean Paris,” said Jack and Ron was glad to see his condescension focused on someone else.

Ernie laughed loudly in response. “Of course not.”

Ron took a big swig of his beer. This was going to be a long night.

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

Ron shifted his backpack as he carefully studied the room numbers next to each door. Everyone else looked so comfortable and confident and he wondered if all of his fellow students had mapped out their routes in advance of the first day of classes.

His eyes were so busy shifting from the left side of the hallway to the right that he failed to notice someone stopped right in front of him until he slammed into them.

“Ooof,” he said. “I’m sor - ”

“Ron?!”

Of course he had just walked right into Astoria.

Astoria stood there, mouth hanging open as she stared at him. Despite the gormless look on her face, she looked absolutely gorgeous with her blonde hair pulled back into a tight curled ponytail, the kind he used to love to pull out at the end of the day. Even though it was just barely September, she was wearing an orange cardigan and he thought about how she obsessively dressed in what she called “the colors of the season”.

“Hey there,” he forced out in what he hoped was a casual tone.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she asked, looking shocked.

“Going to class,” Ron responded. “Don’t want to be late; see you!” He took broad steps around and away from her.

Ron let out a sigh of relief as his classroom was the next one he spotted. He took a deep breath as he walked into the lecture hall for his first class. He spotted a seat near the middle of the room that felt like the right place for the impression he wanted to make.

“Hey,” he greeted the guy next to him. The guy nodded, not even looking up from his laptop. Ron shrugged and pulled his computer out of his bag and powered it up.

While it was sooner than he had hoped, Ron had played it pretty cool with Astoria during their chance meeting. Short and to the point, nothing dumb or embarrassing said. His most successful interaction at Harvard to date.

While he was congratulating himself, a severe looking older woman walked purposefully to the front of the classroom and cleared her throat.

“Welcome to the start of your legal education,” she said. “I’m Professor McGonagall.”

As the professor began to speak about the syllabus, Ron allowed his mind to wander back to Astoria. She hadn’t looked upset or angry to see him, merely surprised. Maybe a bit uncomfortable, which was understandable. She also looked phenomenal. It had been way too long since they had been together and he had almost forgotten how stunning she was.

“Can you tell us about Gordon v. Steele?”

Ron looked up with a start. “Huh?”

Professor McGonagall was standing right in front of him, looking annoyed. “Can you tell us about Gordon v. Steele as it relates to subject matter jurisdiction?”

“Uh…” Ron said, shocked. “It’s the first day of class.”

The classroom was now silently watching him.

“Did you not read the first fifty pages of the assigned text?” McGonagall asked.

“I didn’t realize there was an assignment,” Ron said nervously. He heard a snort behind him and his head whipped around to look at the source.

Professor McGonagall seemed to hear the snort too and shifted her focus. “And you, young man? You could answer my question?”

“Of course,” the smartass snorter said. He ran a hand through his hair and leaned back in his chair.

Oh, thought Ron. This guy is the worst.

“So would you support my decision to ask this student to remove himself from class until he’s prepared?”

Ron froze.

“Yes Professor,” said the cocky douchebag.

Professor McGonagall motioned to Ron. “Once you’re prepared, you will be welcomed back to class. Until then…”

Ron packed up his laptop, completely stunned. He gave a hard stare at the messy haired jerk, who smirked back at him as he stomped out of the room.

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

“You have to be fucking kidding me. Where the fuck does she get the right… and that fucking douchebag,” Ron muttered.

“Excuse me,” a voice rang out from behind him. “That’s more profanity than I care to hear in a week, let alone at 8:30 on a Monday.”

Ron looked up, irritated by the interruption to his own self pity. The reprimand came from a pretty curly haired brunette perched on a neighboring bench, a giant stack of books beside her. Despite her scolding words, she had a hint of a smile. A smile that actually looked friendly.

“Sorry,” he said, ears turning red. “I just… are they always that mean?”

“Mean?”

“Yeah, like, call you out like that. My professors have always liked me all right,” Ron replied, feeling quite embarrassed to explain this to her.

“Yes, they tend to do that. Socratic method,” said the woman.

“Ah,” he responded. He knew the name Socrates thanks to his philosophy major ex, but nothing of the method.

“Were you with McGonagall?”

“Yeah. She kicked me out!”

The brunette made a sympathetic noise.

“She ever kick you out?”

The woman now looked scandalized. “Never! But I had nightmares about her my whole first week. Who else do you have?”

“Uh, Sprout, Slughorn, Umbridge…”

“Umbridge likes when you speak up in class but make sure you always concede to her in the end. Slughorn’s kind of pretentious but if you make good use of your thesaurus for his papers, he’s easy to please.”

“Nice, thanks,” Ron said, nodding his head with a slight smile. She grinned back at him.

“This place is tough; don’t let one setback your first day throw you off,” she urged.

“I’m glad I picked this bench. So what year are - ”

“Ron? Can we talk?” Astoria was standing in front of him, looking a bit nervous.

“If you want,” he said carefully.

“Please,” she said, taking a few steps back. Ron lifted a hand in goodbye to the girl on the bench before approaching Astoria.

“So… you’re at Harvard,” she said nervously, rubbing her right hand over her left.

“I am,” he confirmed.

“And… you got into Harvard,” Astoria said.

“Clearly,” he answered, a bit irritated by her tone. She didn’t really think he was an idiot, did she?

“How was your first class? “

“It could have been better,” Ron admitted.

“That’s because you-you don’t belong here,” Astoria said. “Look, maybe I shouldn’t, but I’m trusting that you’re not here to, like stalk me or hurt me or something. Regardless, this just isn’t something you can do. The people that are going to be successful here… they’re like, bred for this. And it’s not you. I didn’t break up with you to be a bitch. This just isn’t something you’re cut out for.”

“Stori - ” he tried to interrupt.

“And Ron, it costs a fortune to go here! How are you even covering this? I still care about you. Please, just cut your losses now,” she pleaded.

“No way,” said Ron, feeling the fire to prove himself ignite. “Look, my first class was rough but it’s because I didn’t get it. I didn’t understand how all of this works. Now I do. Frankly, that asshole that got me kicked out did me a favor because - ”

“Stori, there you are.” Out of nowhere, the aforementioned asshole from class appeared and slung a possessive arm around Astoria’s shoulder.

“Oh, hi,” she said, biting her lower lip and no longer meeting Ron’s eyes.

“We haven’t properly met although, after that disaster in class, maybe it’s pointless,” chuckled the douchebag.

“Ron, this is Harry Potter… my fiancé.”

Ron clenched his jaw but he knew his ears were reddening in a dead giveaway. “Really?”

“Harry was my high school boyfriend. We reconnected this spring and it just felt… right,” Astoria answered awkwardly.

“Well… congratulations.”

“Thanks buddy,” Harry said, voice dripping in mock sincerity.

“I, uh, I’ve got to go,” Ron said. Summoning every ounce of self control he had, he quickly walked in the direction of his residence hall, Astoria calling after him.

#au romione #romionecom #romione fanfic #ron x hermione #ron weasley #ron and hermione #hp fanfic #harry potter au

[gravityfissure]

Blaze Up : Deirdre & Otto

TIMING: Current. PARTIES: Otto & @deathduty​ SUMMARY: The chaos crew reunites and makes some fae nonsense plans. TW: Mushroom manipulation

Deirdre always wanted to get married; who wouldn’t? A grand ceremony, declarations of love and devotion, there was nothing half-hearted about the affair. She’d read tales of the old fae, who dared to profess their feelings in these ways, bound forever to their love. She glanced over at Otto, dressed dashingly alongside her white gown. Oh, but this wasn’t that kind of a wedding. This was the more realistic sort; the drag-a-human-to-a-fairy-ring sort. And she couldn’t help but to giggle as she led him along. “I’m so glad you came, Otto,” she cooed at him, practically purring into his ear. She was beyond delighted, something inhumanly bubbly. “You’re really going to enjoy it, I know you will. And thanks for dressing up.” Not that he’d stay in those clothes for long, all the fun was in being naked anyway.

Otto had no idea what Deirdre had in store for them with these mushroom rings. In fact, he didn’t really know what compelled him to say yes to even come along with her in the first place. Though considering their last meeting had involved spawns trying to rip him limb from limb the idea of a mushroom circle hardly seemed all that bad, mushrooms could be fun. He’d gotten high on enough of them to know that much to be true. Maybe they’d get around to that naked dancing this time. But as requested, he’d dressed in a trim grey waistcoat and blazer with an accented purple tie and pocket square to offset the colour scheme and keep it tasteful. “How could I say no when you asked so nicely? And you did ask real nice, so I’d never say no.”

"That's why you're the best, Otto." Deirdre grinned, leading him around trees until they reached a clearing. The fae—mostly gnomes, pixies and leprechauns—clapped as Otto appeared in sight. Everyone was naked. Two pixies flew up and dropped a crown of flowers and dirt on Otto's head. "They're happy to see you." She smiled. The ring was right there, staring at both of them. But Deirdre didn't want this to be some rough marriage, of Otto dragged into the center and made to dance. She liked Otto, perhaps not romantically, but just enough to want to be kind to him, even like this. "Okay, Otto," she skipped to the center of the ring, leaving him. "When you're ready for the ceremony, step in front of me, right here." The rest of the fae were careful to keep out of the ring for now. This was Deirdre's marriage, even they knew that.

“You’re so sweet,” Otto laughed as they walked, really having no idea what any of this meant or really what it would mean. Admittedly, he didn’t really care either way. If it was a good time and there was some fun to be had then that was more than enough for Otto to agree. Brushing a bit of stray dirt off his face he fixed the flower crown so it sat a little straighter on his head. “Me? Ha, they don’t even know me.” Man this was weird, granted not the weirdest situation he’d walked into. New York had provided plenty of interesting environments but nakedly dancing fae and mushroom parties? There were a few gnomes - also naked sat on different levels of a nearby tree, some playing little leaf woven drums while others playing a little ditty on wooden carved flutes. It was all rather… merry. Still, he looked back to Deirdre as she skipped into the circle. Was he meant to say something? Fae custom was admittedly lost on him, but it didn’t seem all that bad really. What could go wrong? Still, with a final look around at those gathered assembly he stepped over the boundary of the circle to stand opposite Deirdre feeling a weird pulse of energy as he did so. Weird. “Do I need to say something?” he whispered but trusting Deirdre enough to follow her lead in whatever was going on.

The marriage was complete. Deirdre felt the mushroom magic reverberating around her bones. It rattled and kicked, dancing its own jig inside of her. Three leprechauns grumbled up as Deirdre took Otto’s hands in hers. She beamed at him. The leprechauns jumped up, stacking on top of each other until they were about humanoid height. They clicked and whistled through a speech, which Deirdre didn’t understand, but thought was touching. When they finished, the fae clapped and cheered again. “We’re married,” Deirdre confessed to Otto, breaking into a large grin. “You're going to be a devout husband and serve the mushrooms with me, am I clear, you pathetic human?” Otto didn’t know the mushrooms, and if she were a touch sober, she might have felt bad. But this was the way of the fae; lure them in, make them yours. “Now…” She smiled as the rest of the fae piled in the ring, dancing and creating a mishmash of music that sounded good to Deirdre, who could hear the mushroom tune in her head. “Dance for me, Otto.”

The wash of magic was weird, and nothing like the sorts of magic he’d ever experienced in the past. It almost felt as if some invisible force was wrapping its way around his wrists, around his ankles and yet as fast as that feeling settled it vanished. Distracted by the leprechauns he didn’t initially notice the change in Deirdre’s demeanor up until the declaration. Married? He looked back to Deirdre suddenly, confusion writing itself all over his features and a sinking feeling settling in his gut. “Hold up, married? As in death do us part?” Granted… Now that he looked at Deirdre’s dress and his own suit… And the flowers, he could see the potential misinterpretation and he started to laugh, nervously, “good joke Deir… real funny.” But pathetic human? “Now hold up I’m not even hum-” not fully. He didn’t view himself as just human. Yet despite any protest he wanted to make he found himself compelled to agree. "Crystal." But then Deirdre spoke a further command and some foreign power seemed to overwrite any kind of hesitation or will to question. All he wanted was to dance. And dance he did. After all, she had asked and he only wanted to please her. “Well… it’s no fun if you don’t dance with me now is it?” he said after a jump and a turn holding his hands out as he continued to move to the mishmash of music that seemed to be growing louder and louder.

"Hmm, more like fairy ring do us part." Deirdre giggled, playing with the ends of her dress, swirling about. "We're not actually married, you silly-billy. I'm in love with Morgan, and I don't want to marry anyone but her—but she doesn't like the rings and so I have to take what I can get here, you see." She giggled again, skipping around Otto. He had such a stabbable body. She could sink a knife in there or there or—she tapped his shoulder. Even there. "But we're ring-married. As in you obey me and I think about sparing your life." She hopped back around to face him, laughing as he danced for her. She jumped and clapped, doing away with her white dress as quick as she could to sway with naked purity to the beat. "You're a good dancer, Otto. But I have big plans for you. Tell me—" she didn't command him to stop dancing, he needed to continue until she was bored of it. "—what you think is a good time. Your powers are interesting. I think we can use them in interesting ways and—!" She paused to giggle again. "Let me tell you about the mushrooms. You see, they take over the mind! No more pesky thoughts for me. Only mushrooms. And at the end of it all, you'll join the mushrooms." She kicked at the ground. "As in I'm going to bury you here, but first...we have our fun."

Perhaps Otto should’ve been more alarmed than he was, dancing about under a fae’s control. Maybe he should’ve even been angry, and perhaps later that would be the case. Having his freedom violated so plainly and vicariously. And yet he couldn’t help but feel partly entertained by everything that was happening, it was all very mad hatter esque sans the tea party. And hats. Why weren’t there hats? But Deirdre was talking and he heard what she was saying. Not married? At least that was one relief to come out of this whole thing. “Is this always how this is gonna go when you invite me somewhere? Dress me up all spiffy, then try to murder me? Tell me you don’t do this for everyone Deir. I was starting to feel special...” Maybe he was special, she had invited him to get ring married, after all. He hopped and skipped and even threw in a cartwheel for good measure bouncing back to his feet with glib joy. “A good time? Oh easy, well first you just gotta break into some rich folk’s home and take all their magic stuff they think they have a right to which they don’t. Then sell it for a profit and get piss drunk on the rewards.” There was no hesitation in answering, he wanted to tell Deirdre didn’t he? Anything to make her happy. Anything at all. “That’s funny… ‘cause I don’t even like mushrooms but they’re always on pizza. Who thought to put mushrooms on pizza? It’s like pineapple but worse.”

“I do murder a lot of people….” Deirdre tapped her chin, pausing her dancing to take a jaunty trip down murder-memory lane. But she wouldn’t murder Otto, not just yet. Or, really, she hadn’t decided what she was going to do with him. And then his sprouted his ideas (after cartwheeling into a pixie, which Deirdre laughed at as the pixie flew into a tree in their confusion). Yes. Theft was good. The mushrooms liked theft. They could bring everything back here and dance around it. “You’re so smart, Otto!” She giggled, dashing up to him to join in his dancing, planting a kiss on his cheek the soonest she could reach it. “I like that! Let’s steal from people. Let’s steal a buncha stuff from ‘em! Oh! Oh!” She jumped, joyous and jaunty. “You can take whatever you want. And sell anything you want. I don’t care. But I want the toasters. Ooh, that’ll show those pesky humans! Who's gonna toast their bread now? NO ONE!” The fae cheered around her, as if her idea was the greatest they’d heard. “DOWN WITH TOASTERS! DOWN WITH TOASTERS!” She chanted, “you can stop dancing and start chanting with me, Otto!” Her decree on the end of toasters bounced around the clearing, when she grew bored, she commanded Otto to stop and continued with her disorganized thoughts. “Mushrooms on pizza are bad. You’re so right. Mushrooms aren’t for eating, they’re for worshipping. You’re like, the best fake husband ever, Otto. You’re soooo smart.”

Otto didn’t really care that he just kicked a pixie in the face, all he wanted to do was dance. But it felt good to see Deirdre happy. Yes, because all he wanted to do was make Deirdre his mushroom wife happy. They would have mushrooms all day every day. “What did I tell you I’m a fungi. Ohhh-- can I draw mushrooms on the wall? Can that be my signature? We’ll be renowned.” Anything to please the mushrooms and please Deirdre. “I can? I can!” he cheered happily, oh he would take so many things but the idea of taking toasters. “You’re a genius! We’ll toast them all why? Because we’ll have their toasters!” The urge to dance suddenly stopped, but he immediately launched into a chorus of “DOWN WITH TOASTERS!” in line with the crowd of jaunty fae-folk around them. Eventually it subsided and Otto plopped down while the other fae continued to dance, “mm. You know what we should do? We should build a shrine to them. Imagine it! A mushroom shrine right in the middle of town? Nobody would miss it. We could put lights and flowers all around it! Magic mushrooms in the town plaza! So everyone can see them!”

Of all the humans she’d brought into rings with her, Otto was by far Deirdre’s favorite. But that seem to be his legacy, he was her favorite human she’d taken to a cemetery to play Sudoku with (of which there were only two, but that was beside the point). “You’re a fungi?” She looked at him. He looked pretty human to her, and pretty pretty. “Ooh! Yeah, that’ll be really good. We can steal stuff and draw mushrooms. We’ll be the mushroom bandits---but we’re not stealing mushrooms, to be clear. Unless it’s to free them in the wild, mushrooms should be freed.” And no human, none that she’d ever stolen, gave such great ideas. “Yes,” she plopped down with him. “A mushroom shrine. That sounds perfect! Everyone can see how great the mushrooms are.” She broke into a smile just imagining it. “More!” She slapped her fist into the ground. “More ideas, husband! I don’t have long on this mushroom high and I need to make the most of my time. We need to go big! The biggest!” She gestured with her hands and fell over, giggling into the grass. “We’ll make the shrine huge. It has to be. Maybe we should hang some bodies from it.” She sat up, “what do you think?”

Otto would have been pleased to hear about his newfound position in Deirdre’s list of humans. Or well, human adjacents. Humans were so boring after all. “Yeah, I’m fun and I’m a guy. Soooo… Fungi” he grinned like it was the smartest revelation in the world. Which right now it felt like it was. “Right. No stealing mushrooms. Unless we’re giving the mushrooms mush-more-room,” he giggled as they settled on the grass. This really was pretty great all in all. “Ohhhh hm,” his face contorted in deep thought before it brightened. “Mushroom soup!” he exclaimed wildly, “ but- we fill the local swimming pool with it.” A genius idea really. And the mushroom shrine? Really there was no better idea. “Yes. Or bones. Or bodies and bones and mushrooms! Because bodies become mushrooms right? You’re so clever Deir!”

Deirdre swapped ideas back and forth with Otto. At some point the day dissolved to night, and just talking about escapades turned into actually committing them. It was then she realized that, whatever the two of them were doing---or going to do---it was a very good idea. They had all the time in the world to steal toasters, paint mushrooms, make shrines and fill swimming pools. And she imagined that there was no better pair of people up to the task. “You know, Otto,” she pulled him in close, “I think you really might be my favorite husband.”

#p: deirdre #para #blaze up #// THIS WAS SO MUCH FUN #THE AFTERMATH IS GONNA BE GREAT #toasted

[srhlsx]

Rewritten & Reposted March 24, 2021

MASTER | Ch. 13 | CHAPTER 14 | Ch. 15

After that night, something changed between you and Bokuto. It was a subtle change, but a change nonetheless. He didn’t kiss you as often as you’d like, and while sometimes that drove you crazy enough to want to pull your hair out, it was enough to just have those moments together, those lingering touches and too-long stares that made your heartbeat a fraction faster. 

One change in particular came in the form of regular study dates. 

Bokuto was not the most serious student, he was planning on mostly relying on his athletic ability to get him into the school of his choice - or if he was lucky enough, go professional as soon as he graduated. You reminded him that getting into the school was only half the battle, in order to play he needed to actually keep up with his grades. Studying with him was like trying to wrestle a puppy into a travel carrier while also having a toddler balanced on your hip with your hands tied behind your back… oh, and the room is on fire.

“You have got to sit down.” You sighed as you eyed the boy pacing circles around the counter in your apartment kitchen. Baba had offered to have Yua and Eiji over for a few hours that day to allow you time to get studying in without having to worry about them. You’d pick them up for some dinner later if you were ever going to get in the work that was needed.

“But I’m bored.” Bokuto whined, finally collapsing dramatically at the table across from you. He had been banished to sitting across from you rather than next you when for the first fifteen minutes of studying he spent insisting that he would be more productive with you sitting in his lap. He propped his elbow up on the table and rested his chin in his hand as he attempted to give you some of the best puppy eyes you’ve ever seen. “Can we take a break, (Y/n)-chan?”

“Don’t butter me up, we just took a break.” You laughed as you looked back to your notes in front of you, the ins and outs of biology were thrilling in their own right but Bokuto had a smile that could probably get you to do anything - so you looked away from him. “We don’t get to take another one for at least 45 minutes.”

Bokuto let out a loud huff and sadly looked back down at his own study materials. They weren’t as sloppy as you might expect them to be, but you were almost positive that was because Akaashi helped him when needed. His handwriting was small and scratchy, but the different colors he wrote in and highlighted with showed that he cared at least a little bit about what was going on in his classes. 

At the moment, he was working through some chemistry problems. When you first started studying you went and dug through your past school work and happily handed over your old notes since you’d taken that class a previous year. When he opened up your notebook, his eyes widened considerably and had repeatedly glanced between you and the pages before him. You had looked at him with a closed-eye smile and tried not to blush when he complimented your thorough notes.

“This is amazing,” He had breathed, amazed.

You laughed at his expression and responded confidently, “Yes, they are.”

He shot up then and reached over the table, his hands grasped either side of your head and dragged you clumsily over the table, messing up your neat organization. He smashed his lips against yours, smiling as you momentarily struggled through your surprise. “I owe you,” He grinned after pulling away and sitting down like he hadn’t just kissed you within an inch of your life.

Now though, the thrill was gone for him and every once in a while he would let out a small grunt, like he was clearing his throat. You glanced up at him only briefly while turning the page, keeping your attention where it needed to be. “You need a drink?”

“I need your attention,” He whined again. You would never admit to him that his neediness was almost endearing, the way he looked at you could’ve melted your heart in any other situation. 

“Give me twenty minutes on this chapter, then I will help you with your review?”

“Can we play a game?” He asked, eyes lighting up brighter than a firework.

You hesitated, “A game?”

“Yeah, like a study game!” He nodded, attention finally seeming to be productive. This newfound motivation intrigued you, so you humored him and encouraged him to continue to explain his idea. “Well, you ask me a question and if I answer it right you have to take off-”

“Do. Not.” You interrupted, laughing hysterically, while yelling above his voice. “Even think about finishing that sentence!”

“What!” He cried out, seeming defeated that you wouldn’t even consider his idea. “Hear me out!”

“This is not some kind of teenage rom-com, Bokkun!” You continued to laugh as he visibly deflated from your rejection. “I am not stripping my clothes to help you study.”

“What if I strip my clothes to help you study?” He countered flirtatiously, leaning forward on his hands across the table to get close to your face, eyebrows wiggling suggestively.

“We both know that’d be even more of a distraction,” You mumbled. The thought of Bokuto lifting his black volleyball t-shirt over his head, muscles rippling across his chest, stomach, and arms, had you just about drooling as your mind drifted. But before he could really take advantage of your momentary weakness, you pushed his face away and made him sit back down.

“Worth a shot,” He sighed, which made you laugh again.

*

“Not going to lie, that last one was a doozie.”

You looked up at Rumi and frowned, your brow creased in confusion at her comment. “You’re the one who said taking an advanced English literature class would be fun.”

“It is fun,” She shoved your shoulder. “The exam itself was just long as ~hello…”

You turned to face forward to see what your friend was looking at. Ahead of you, just at the entrance to your school’s campus, stood two lone male figures looking very out of place.

One was wearing a white shirt, red tie loosened around his neck, black sweater vest, and grey pants. The other wore a white collared shirt and grey blazer pushed half way up his arms, a loosened striped blue and white tie, and black pants. They both could not look more cool but also more out of place in the sea of students wearing the green, black, and pink uniform of your own school. 

You smiled at Bokuto and Kuroo both as you walked up to them with a hop in your step, wondering how they managed to get all the way to your school in time for the end of the day dismissal.

“Both Nekoma and Fukurodani dismiss third years as soon as exams are done in the morning,” Kuroo explained when you asked.

“Yeah, we test straight through the day then peace out as soon as we’re done.” Bokuto slung his arm around your shoulders and easily pulled you into him, not having a care in the world that there were plenty of people around.

“You guys are lucky,” You whined, stomping your foot and looking at Rumi who nodded in agreement and was standing close to Kuroo. “We could’ve gotten lunch!”

“Well, maybe one of these days I can convince you to sneak off on your free period and meet me,” Bokuto smiled down at you, pulling playfully at a lock of your hair and laughing when you swatted him away.

“Corrupting girls of others schools?” A voice behind you laughed loudly, making all four of you turn. “Seems beneath the two of you.”

Bokuto and Kuroo both smiled as Daiki led a few members of the boy’s volleyball team up to greet them, all doing some weird handshake thing that guys do. You didn’t miss the fact that one third year in particular made a point to be a little less enthused than the others, completely ignoring Bokuto altogether. 

You saw the slight twitch in Bokuto’s face when Shouta deliberately said hi to Kuroo but not him, the look of real confusion made you start to feel like the temperature around you was rising. You felt worry starting to grow in your stomach, Rumi also taking note of your sudden uneasiness. 

Being who he was, Bokuto was not going to ignore the fact that he was being ignored and made a point to greet the other third year. “Shouta, ‘sup man?” He held out the hand that was not currently wrapped around you for the other boy to shake but was left hanging.

Everyone stopped, whether they were in mid-conversation or just listening they paused and held their breath. At this point, the rest of the boy’s volleyball team knew that you had rejected Shouta but you weren’t sure if they knew everything that was said between the two of you. It had been a few weeks since the interaction and both your teams were too busy to talk, much less gossip about what was happening between players. You waited, along with everyone else, for what was coming next.

“Bokuto.” Shouta nodded curtly, even though he wasn’t nearly as tall as Bokuto, he gave off an air of looking down on the two of you. “Didn’t think you normally slummed around these parts.”

“Well, yeah,” He smiled, completely oblivious (or at least doing a damn good job acting) to the tension brewing. He looked down at you with an almost loving smile and nodded your way, “I told (y/n) we’d get some food after her exams were over. You guys sh-”

“Listen, man, nobody really gives a raging fuck about why you’re here.” Shouta interrupted, shocking the entire group with his crude choice of words. 

“Chill dude,” Kuroo stepped forward. “You brought it up, man.”

You noticed how Kuroo stepped up to stand next to Bokuto, neither of them flinching in the slightest. Even with calm expressions on their faces, you could tell from their eyes alone that they were not going to back down from anything that was about to happen. And they shouldn’t, they easily had the height and weight over Shouta and it didn’t look like the rest of the Shinzen team was gearing up to come to his aid. 

You felt a tug and looked over your shoulder to see Rumi pulling on your uniform jacket to get you to step away from the brewing confrontation in front of you.

“Why are you even here?” Shouta then asked, looking over at Kuroo with narrowed eyes, giving him a once-over. “Following around the super star like his little sidekick? Or just fishing around for the next girl to try and sweep up like your buddy here?”

“Shouta- '' You started to warn, noticing Bokuto’s and Kuroo’s jaws clenching but neither of them saying or doing anything.

“No offense, (y/n), but honestly fuck off.” You, along with everyone in the group, gasped in surprise at the hash comment as he enunciated each word. “It’s one thing to be hanging around the creep, but seriously having him come all the way out here to pick you up? I mean, how much attention do you n-”

CRACK-

Before Shouta had a chance to finish his terrible words, and before you even realized what was happening, your fist collided with his jaw. A satisfying crunch sound filled your ears as he fell to the dirt in surprise, looking up at you in shock as he held his jaw in pain, a few tears threatening to spill over his eyes. You were seeing red.

“Fuck you, you bitter bench-riding fuck.” You said in a rage, spitting each word. “Maybe if you were half the man he was you’d get more playing time and girls would actually be interested in you.” 

You were about to continue on your spree of insults when you felt a pair of hands grab onto your arms from behind and start to pull you away. “Alright bruiser,” Bokuto’s familiar voice was close to your ear. “I think he gets the idea.”

The four of you walked briskly down the sidewalk, away from the dramatic scene. Bokuto had his arm slung over your shoulders again, holding you close like he needed to keep hold of you out of fear that you’d go back and finish what you started. You could tell he was trying not to laugh, the situation being very serious considering you’d pretty much assaulted someone on school grounds. He continued to lead you away, never looking back to see if anyone was following or going to say something.

Once you’d rounded the corner a few blocks away, Kuroo burst out in a maniacal laugh while Rumi came up to you and grabbed you by the face. “You absolute badass.” She said, laying a dramatic kiss on your forehead. “Fuck that guy.”

You shyly looked away, coming to the realization of your horrific action. You looked down at the hand you had punched the boy with, clenching and unclenching it in a fist. “Damn,” You somewhat laughed, shaking out the lingering sting and looking up at Bokuto. “That felt really good.”

Bokuto smiled and squeezed your shoulders a little tighter, laying a kiss at the top of your head. “That’s my girl.”

#bokuto koutaro #koutaro bokuto #bokuto x reader #haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu!! x reader #hq!! x reader #hq!! #hq

[spellcastersjudgement]

23 nd tutorship ^v^

i apologize in advance i know this is an ignorant length but i cant help myself with THE OTP i hope you enjoy it!!! thank u bigly for sending in this ask <3333

if yall are on mobile i apologize in advance sometimes the read more links dont work whoops :((((

#23: ‘take my jacket’

 Jaden loved to party and he wouldn’t apologize for that. Tournaments, interviews, endorsements, even a season finale of a TV show—all excuses to let loose and fill up no less than three trash bags with beer cans, pass out with his shoes on, and wake up groggy yet fulfilled the next day. Being a pro duelist had been the best move he’d ever made in his life, not just for the money and pictures and love of the game, but because even boring opening ceremonies or long-ass photoshoots ended with everyone getting smashed for no other reason than that they could. It was paradise.

This party fucking sucked though.

It didn’t suck in like, a traditional sense. The ballroom was beautiful, with vaulted ceilings and elegantly decorated tables with little placards for their names and everyone was dressed nicely. He was sitting at his assigned seat, staring at the nameplate and sipping prosecco, feeling like he should climb up onto the table and dance to liven things up a bit. Though the urge was strong and he’d downed four of these flutes of angry grape juice, he instead pulled out his phone from his front pocket—yeah, he was wearing a blazer with a fancy inside pocket, something he had never expected to wear in his life—and scrolling through his texts, most of them from Syrus, who was lamenting that they weren’t together to watch Aster and Zane’s televised foreplay. Jaden felt guilty but he wished he’d had a duel scheduled tonight. Zane and Aster had gotten out of attending this party (he used the term loosely) with Alexis, but this was a by week for him and he had no excuse.

Originally when Bastion had told him that he had to attend this—gala, that had been the word—this gala he was hype, ready to hang off his boyfriend’s arm and be the pro duelist trophy boyfriend to Bastion’s physics doctoral candidate, preferably hammered and bragging about how Bastion and Alexis had been awarded a competitive research grant for an assload of money. That was the plan, at least. Then again, he was under the impression that these galas were similar to his version of a party, where everyone showed up hella drunk and someone lost their pants thirty minutes in for whatever reason. The fancy name should’ve tipped him off, he thought, texting Syrus that he might have to fake a stomachache so he could dip out early, but in his defense he assumed the fancy name was because it was a university-sponsored thing not because it was stuffy as hell.

Syrus sent him back a sternly worded text that he should be happy for Bastion and that his boyfriend had put up with all of their drunken asses more times than he could count. Jaden could suck it up for one night.

Wrinkling his nose and feeling guilt swell up in him, Jaden locked his phone and put it back in his blazer—it was Bastion’s blazer actually, as Jaden didn’t own one nor did he remember to get one even though he’d been informed of this a week ago—and downed the rest of his wine, setting the empty glass back on the tablecloth. This would probably be more tolerable if he hadn’t immediately been separated from Bastion and Alexis, who had been accosted by professors and the program director almost as soon as they’d walked in. From his spot, he could see them standing with who he recognized as their faculty adviser, probably talking about something super smart and sciencey. This shit had gone on for the past forty-five minutes and Jaden could probably just walk over and interject himself, but what would he even say? The original plan didn’t seem like it would work as he definitely couldn’t grab Bastion’s ass and make off-color jokes about how his dick-sucking lips had won them that grant with this crowd of old-ass academics.

Bastion did look good in that suit though. Jaden probably wouldn’t be able to resist getting a handful of his ass when those slacks were stretched so tightly over it, already thinking of how he should drop something in front of him so he’d pick it up and give Jaden an excellent view. Looking down at his own ensemble, he wondered how Bastion had let him out of the house. He was wearing a purple leopard print button-up and had cuffed his dress pants and had refused to wear socks with these dress shoes unless he could wear his Winged Kuriboh ones. That had earned him an exasperated look from his boyfriend, who was busy ironing his own boring white shirt. Apparently the line was at Winged Kuriboh socks, as Bastion hadn’t said anything about his outfit when they’d left.

He could probably go over there, maybe just stand between Bastion and Alexis and not say anything. It’d be better than being the only person sitting at a table alone, even if what they were talking about would definitely go over his head and there wasn’t enough dancing for it to be a real party. Getting on the table and dancing was starting to become a more attractive idea by the second.

They’d been dating long enough for there to be a little voice in his head he called his Inner Bastion, which served as both a voice of reason and about eighty percent of his impulse control (the other twenty percent was divided between Jesse, Jim, and Syrus, though Sy was usually an enabler). It even had a cute British accent. Currently, it was telling him that if the choices were between dancing on the table and suffering through academics, he should go with the lesser of two evils.

It didn’t bar him from getting more alcohol, though, which was good because he definitely needed it. Just because everyone else was still upright and had all their clothes and there hadn’t been an impromptu karaoke battle didn’t mean he couldn’t have his own little party. Bastion could carry him out if needed.

“Thanks, dude,” Jaden was glad their assigned table was by the server station, meaning he didn’t have to go more than a few feet to get more of this angry grape juice. Too bad they didn’t have anything harder or else he’d be about ten rum and pineapples deep.

A real party should be impossible to navigate, everyone sweaty and close together, the music too loud to talk over unless you were right against someone’s ear or yelling so loud your throat hurt the next day. The most difficult part of reaching Bastion was walking sideways between chairs so he didn’t have to disturb anyone sitting down, which was a total bummer. He’d seen Bastion at a party with his other PhD candidate friends and they could throw down. Fucking school ruining everything, he thought sourly, trying to keep his face neutral as he got closer.

Just like he’d predicted, he could hear the adviser talking to Bastion about his upcoming exam, which sounded like gibberish to Jaden. He knew what an integral was and the difference between speed and velocity but other than that he couldn’t keep up, no matter how many times he helped Bastion study.

Deciding it was best not to interrupt their discussion of stellar evolution, which would be a great name for a mixtape, he tried to formulate a plan of attack to stand between them without looking awkward as hell. Alexis and Bastion were too damn close though, which he normally thought was adorable because they were best friend science buddies and Bastion’s tie matched Alexis’ dress, which wasn’t relevant but still insanely cute, and there would be no way for him to stand there without squeezing in and being a disruption. He’d just have to stand by Bastion’s side and take his chances. Hopefully none of these academic wizards would want to talk to him because the only thing he knew well was dueling and that probably wouldn’t fly with these nerds.

Jaden loved nerds. Bastion was a massive nerd and he loved him a lot, especially when he got excited about something and he’d start rambling, sticking a pencil behind his ear and gesticulating (usually at an equation he’d written on his office wall) and Jaden was totally content to pay his tuition with that sweet, sweet dueling cash if it meant he got to see him so happy. Jaden loved that kinda nerd. These stuffy nerds were a different story, completely uncharted territory. They probably didn’t cry tears of happiness when they finished a hard problem and probably didn’t look up at the stars and talk about extraterrestrial life and how rad space travel would be. That was the flavor of nerd he was used to.

Bastion was in the middle of saying something about electrons when Jaden came to stand next to him, their shoulders brushing, announcing his presence in the most subtle way Jaden had ever cut into a conversation ever. Damn, he should be flouncing over, totally drunk, kissing Bastion in the middle of the ballroom and shouting that his boyfriend was mega smart and that tie would be used to bind Bastion to the headboard later. Instead he had a flute glass and was sliding an arm around his boyfriend, trying to be quiet and unassuming. What fucking alternate universe was he in?

 “—the expansion of—” Bastion stopped speaking to look down at Jaden, smiling once he realized it wasn’t some random person leaning on him. “Dr. Zweinstein, this is Jaden. I don’t think you two have met yet.”

Of course Bastion would be nice and make introductions.

“Hey,” Jaden switched the glass to his left hand so he could shake with his right. “Bas has told me a lot about you.”

Hopefully that counted as enough of a conversation. Bastion was very warm and his arm was now around Jaden, which was awesome because now he could lean into his boyfriend. Normally Jaden would talk more, but this whole situation was lowkey uncomfortable and he was out of his element given how fancy this gala was. Gala. What a dumb word. It sounded so fancy and exciting yet it was boring as hell.

“He’s told me about you as well,” Dr. Zweinstein spoke with a faint German accent and Jaden wondered if PhD programs only brought in people with sick accents to make them seem more exotic. Alexis was the only American he’d met in the parade of Bastion’s higher education friends. “You’re a duelist?”

“Yeah,” Jaden wanted them to go back to talking about physics. Zweinstein was the same height but he still felt like he was being looked down on, his eyes looking over the rim of his glasses and a faint downturn of his wrinkled old mouth. Yeah, that was about right. Bastion never made him feel like he was dumb or anything, except when he was being really dumb and that usually involved some scheme he and Syrus had cooked up that might risk them bodily harm or gastrointestinal discomfort.

“I’m sure that’s exciting.” Zweinstein didn’t sound genuine, more condescending.

Bastion must’ve sensed that things were about to go downhill. “Jaden has been a big help. I don’t think I would’ve passed your last exam without him.”

That was sweet, really, but Jaden had just graded a practice test, which didn’t involve anything but looking at the nicely circled x = whatever after an endless parade of calculus and checking them against an answer key. It’s not like he could help Bastion if he got in a real pickle, which is why he often saw his boyfriend dialing Alexis’ number at ass o’clock at night, standing in front of the wall where he’d attempted a problem with a worn-down pencil and tension in his shoulders.

“Oh, nonsense. You and Alexis are my best students. I think the two of you were born to do this.”

That was less sweet. The part about him helping Bastion being nonsense, that is. Bastion and Alexis were the best because they were Bastion and Alexis, so he could agree with that. Jaden shifted, crossing his arms over his chest, feeling very defensive because he may not have been a braniac but he did try to help in whatever capacity he could. Fuck this stuffy ass gala.

He felt fingers nudging at him, and he looked over to see Alexis reaching behind Bastion and prodding his side, smiling at him. She looked exquisite in that dress, the gold matching her eyes and making her look like the absolute queen she was. Jaden overcame his extreme annoyance at Dr. Asswipe—it really was unfortunate the guy had been kinda dickish because Bas talked about him like the guy invented the sun—to smile at her. Damn the two of them for standing so close together he couldn’t squeeze in.

Honestly, that’s probably how everyone felt when he and Syrus were together, but that was different. Jaden and Syrus were the awesomest at parties and if Syrus were here instead of watching Alexis’ boyfriends duke it out on prime time television they could play a drinking game at least. Not like Bastion wouldn’t play drinking games with him, but since he was one of the guests of honor its not like he could get totally shitfaced. That was another reason this party sucked. Alexis and Bastion should be messes right now, needing to be scraped off the floor because it was their party and they deserved to celebrate like he did after winning a duel.

The conversation had blessedly switched away from Jaden and back to stars or whatever the “post AGB phase” was. It probably wasn’t too late to fake a stomachache, he thought as he sipped more of the prosecco, looking aimlessly into the crowd of people, half-listening to Bastion’s voice as he talked about shell burning (yet another great name for a mixtape), but Syrus’ text about being supportive echoed in his head. He could stick it out for Bastion.

It was hard, though, to listen to all these big words and not know anything about what was going on. If it were just the two of them, Jaden would interrupt and ask his boyfriend to explain something in very small words so he could at least sorta understand enough to be engaged, but they weren’t at home or in the car or even at Starbucks. Maybe he should’ve just stayed at the table and texted Syrus or tried to livestream Zane and Aster’s duel. The only good thing that had come out of leaving his seat was that Bastion’s arm was around him, keeping their sides pressed together, and that Bastion was clearly very excited about whatever they were talking about and he sounded so happy.

Taking another sip of wine, Jaden glanced up at his boyfriend, how he was smiling while saying huge-ass words that meant nothing to Jaden, who couldn’t spell ‘necessary’ or ‘license’ without googling it first. This was his element, this academic wasteland, devoid of personality and individualism, the only thing here facts and figures and research that took countless hours. The blazer felt itchy, restrictive, weighing heavily on his shoulders and making it hard to breathe. Jaden had never been in this part of Bastion’s world before. Usually the extent was watching him and several other students gathered around the coffee table or sequestered in the office, studying together or shooting the shit, and none of them had been this type of boring, flat, lifeless, damn near oppressive type of academic.

“Jaden.”

Zweinstein was speaking to him again, and Jaden halted his thoughts about how he was itchy and hot and overall uncomfortable to focus.

“Yeah?” He tried not to think of how he sounded raspy and lowkey kinda pathetic.

“Bastion says you were recently in Zurich.”

That wasn’t really recent, but yeah. “I had a tournament there a couple months ago. Nice place, but super cold.”

“I was just telling Bastion that we have several job openings in Zurich with one of our sister universities,” Zweinstein continued, still looking at Jaden over his glasses and he could’ve sworn the man was speaking slower, like he was unsure Jaden could understand him. The itchy, tight feeling intensified, and Jaden gripped onto the wine glass and tried to think of the way Chazz pitched a fit on television when Jaden had dropped his life points to zero last week. “I think it would be a good fit once he completes the program.”

A job? Overseas? There would be worse things, Jaden supposed. He wasn’t about to have a conversation about important life decisions right here, though. “That’s cool.”

“That’s a word for it.” Zweinstein drawled.

“I appreciate the offer, but I think I’ll probably end up staying around here.” Thankfully Bastion was there to speak again because Jaden was about ten seconds from smashing his glass in his turtle-looking face.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Zweinstein looked from Jaden to Bastion. “Though it is possible to be a duelist anywhere in the world. I hope you don’t let your partner’s career dictate yours.”

Jaden was hot, burning hot. The air was so thick it hurt to breathe, fingers twitching around the glass, and not even the feeling of Bastion’s hand squeezing his shoulder could calm the burning rage within him. Who the fuck was this man to stand here and insinuate that Jaden was—was holding Bastion back? Bastion had never said anything of the sort, not even implied it. Yeah, Jaden was loud and largely inappropriate and not book-smart and Bastion was proper and restrained and did Sudoku for fun but he would never, ever do anything knowing it would limit his boyfriend in his academic or career pursuits.

Coming over here was a mistake.

“’scuse me,” Jaden ducked out from under Bastion’s arm, needing to get away before he said something that would get him thrown out of this stupid-ass gala. His hip knocked into a table, jostling the silverware and startling the people sitting down, walking so fast the mostly-full glass was sloshing onto his sleeve, overcome with a burning need to get away from this gathering of pretentious fucks.

He knocked into more tables, tipping a chair over on its side as he made his exit. The door to the outside was his goal, as the night air would surely offer some sort of respite. Vaguely, he heard his name being called, but the blood was pounding in his ears and he couldn’t decipher who had called for him. It didn’t matter, as not even Bastion could make him go back to that horseshit conversation where he was being insulted for merely existing. What the fuck had he done to Zweinstein?

Pushing the ballroom door open with his shoulder and sloshing more wine onto the blazer, Jaden stepped into the hallway, hanging a right and heading for the exit doors where he could cool off and preferably stay outside until this nonsense was over. There were a couple of staff members standing by the door, and they opened it for him with a smile that he didn’t have it in him to return, finally stepping out and feeling like he was able to breathe once again.

It was easier to breathe but he was still hot and itchy. Sitting down on the top step, Jaden set down his glass and tore off the wine-soaked blazer, a passing thought of how it was his boyfriend’s and he should probably be more careful with it was silenced by angry thoughts of how he should summon Flame Wingman to burn this whole dumbass building down. Too bad he didn’t have his duel disk. That would’ve been satisfying. As long as Bastion and Alexis got out first.

Resting his head in his hands, acutely aware he looked like Cinderella, sitting here on the top of the steps after making a speedy exit from a ballroom, he heard Zweinstein’s words over and over again, taunting him. Was that it? Was the perception of their relationship that Jaden was somehow stunting Bastion’s professional and academic prospects?

Probably, another voice spoke up. They’d always been kinda an odd couple, proof that the old adage of ‘opposites attract’ wasn’t just a cliché. Jaden remembered when they’d first gotten together back in undergrad of how, while the squad had seen it coming for months and was totally cool with it, the other students at Duel Academy did make a few passing comments about how Bastion was ‘too good’ for him. It hadn’t bothered him back then because everything was shiny and new and he was totally gonna be a kickass pro duelist trophy boyfriend and Bastion was gonna name a star after him (something Bastion had actually said in a post-sex cuddle sesh, which had made Jaden feel enough love for the man to explode) and they were gonna prove everyone wrong. But now, feeling the air dance across his burning cheeks, staring down at the concrete steps, thinking about how the entire night he’d felt out of place, he entertained the thought that maybe, just maybe, there was some merit to what Zweinstein had said. Bastion would probably do better with someone that could keep up with him in the braincell department, someone he could talk about his passions with that didn’t involve multiple interruptions to define terms.

Shit, this was stupid. Jaden looked up at the sky, thinking about how he sounded like a dumb teenager to himself but unable to shake the feeling that maybe this gala had revealed something crucial, something he’d never considered before. The wine he’d spilled on himself was starting to dry, making his skin feel sticky and tight, heightening the feeling of general discomfort that had settled into his skin and overtaken him from the second he’d stepped in the ballroom, raised to a fever pitch by that stupid doctor. Going back inside felt impossible though. Better to just sit out here and tamp down on these feelings, forget about this entirely. The steps were uncomfortable and there were still a few stragglers coming in, their eyes landing on him briefly before continuing their way up the stairs. It’d be better to wait in the car but Bastion had the keys and was almost pathological about locking doors, meaning he’d have to go back inside to get them. That wasn’t gonna happen unless Jaden got one free punch aimed at Zweinstein.

He’d sit out here, then. That’d be fine. He had most of his phone battery left and a backlog of updates from Syrus; plus if all else failed he could call Jesse to pass the time. Bastion and Alexis could enjoy the gala in their honor and Jaden wouldn’t get arrested for assault. It would be fine, he reassured himself, though he still heard the echoes of doubts and insecurities and the visions of Bastion galivanting around with another obscenely smart person that wouldn’t feel out of place in his world, would compliment him better. The Inner Bastion voice that had discouraged him from dancing on the table was now spouting out how it was illogical to feel these things when Bastion had never come close to implying that Jaden wasn’t enough for him, and he did his damnedest to listen to it. That proved to be difficult, the persistent itch under his skin and the heat in his face not caring that his Inner Bastion was right. Digging in the front pocket for his phone, he felt his fingers shaking, covered in a cold sweat, unable to grasp the device.

Fucking fine, then. He could just sit here. He could just chill out. He was the ultimate at chilling, had taught Bastion how to turn that brain off and enjoy himself.

“Jaden?”

Was that his Inner Bastion trying to get him to calm himself down and stop worrying about nothing? It sounded louder, more insistent now, like the real Bastion sounded when Jaden was about to down seven Coke floats because Syrus got through six before he puked.

“Jaden?”

That definitely wasn’t in his head. Twisting around, Jaden looked up to see Bastion coming out of the building, walking toward him, blazer open and swishing with his steps, tie off-kilter. What the hell was Bastion doing out here? He should be inside.

“What?” Bastion was standing in on the steps by him now, looking confused and worried. Shit, he must’ve said that out loud. “I’m not going to stand inside while you’re out here, don’t be ridiculous.”

“Dude, this is your party.” Jaden felt a new wave of guilt for storming out and disrupting his boyfriend’s moment in the sun, especially after Bastion had spent an inordinate amount of time posing for pictures with Jaden after he won a duel or taken a red-eye flight to get back to the university in time for classes after joining him at a tournament. “Seriously, Bas. Get back in there.”

“Jaden,” Bastion was sitting down next to him, using that serious voice that Jaden recognized as the one meaning he wasn’t going to entertain an argument.

Jaden didn’t have anything to say that wasn’t going to be either argumentative or let these anxious, unfounded thoughts spill out, so he just huffed and stared straight ahead.

There was silence for a moment. Usually their silences weren’t uncomfortable as they’d been together far too long to feel the need to fill every moment with inorganic conversation. This was an uncomfortable silence and Jaden could feel Bastion looking at him, practically feel the way he was turning words over in his mind, wanting to broach the subject of that unfortunate encounter with his faculty adviser. Jaden didn’t know if he wanted to talk about it or not, really. If he made Bastion feel like he couldn’t interact with the person helping him complete his doctorate then he really would be holding him back just like Zweinstein said; if he didn’t say anything then he’d either have to abstain from coming to these uptight academic gatherings, maybe miss out on more important accomplishments, in order to not be subjected to this condescending bullshit.

This situation sucked.

“Jaden,” Bastion had apparently finished deciding how to begin.

“Yeah?”

“You won’t have to worry about Dr. Zweinstein saying anything else to you.”

“What?” Jaden looked over to him, feeling more guilt, more anxiety twisting his insides. “What’d you say to him? Bas, you better not have—”

“I told him to shove it.” Bastion interrupted, a slight smile breaking his face, eyes shining with amusement. “Not in as many words, but you know.”

“You told the guy who holds your future by the short and curlies to shove it?”

“Jaden, sweetheart,” Bastion’s arm wound around his shoulders, pulling him to his side. Jaden was slightly off-guard, feeling new heat rise to his cheeks at the pet name. His boyfriend didn’t use them often, didn’t really use nicknames either, referring to Alexis by her full name when everyone else said ‘Lex’, almost never calling him ‘Jay.’ Leaning his head against Bastion’s shoulder, feeling the fabric of his blazer against his cheek, he listened as Bastion continued. “I think you’ve overestimated the influence he has on me. I’m not so starstruck that I’m going to let him speak to you like that.”

That was probably the nicest, most political way for Bastion to say that he was overreacting. Maybe if Jaden had stayed a moment longer, hadn’t made a scene, he would’ve been able to see Bastion clap back. That would’ve been infinitely better than knocking over a chair and spilling wine everywhere.

“Do people,” Jaden tried to keep his voice steady, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning more heavily on Bastion’s side. “Do people say stuff like that a lot?”

“No,” Bastion’s cheek leaned on his head, breath moving his bangs as he sighed. “A few people have. They learn not to.”

“Thanks for defending my honor,” Jaden wanted to make it sound like a joke, lighten the mood and lift the weight that was settling inside him.

“I don’t need nor appreciate input on where I’ve chosen to lay my affections.”

“Maybe they’re right, you know.” Jaden couldn’t stop it from tumbling out, wincing a second later. That was pathetic. He sounded like the protagonist in that soap opera he’d binged last week at Syrus’ insistence, the two of them laid out on the couch, definitely not sober, laughing at how stupid and dramatic the script was. Now he was doing the same shit he’d mocked.

“No, they most definitely are not.”

The conviction in that statement jump-started his heart, making him lift up his head, staring into Bastion’s eyes. Protests were on the tip of his tongue, even as his Inner Bastion was telling him to listen to the Outer Bastion and not the flurry of irrational thoughts clouding his mind. They died as Bastion pulled him closer, reaching out to lay his hand over one of Jaden’s.

“I wanted you to come with me tonight. Not just because you’re my partner but because you’re my inspiration.” Bastion squeezed his hand and Jaden grabbed onto him, probably too tightly but his heart was pounding and his boyfriend’s hands were bigger and really warm and he needed the feeling of their palms pressed together to calm himself. “You’ve been so supportive of me, helped me even when you don’t understand, tolerated me staying up all night grading papers, and never complained about me repainting parts of the office when I run out of room to write on the walls. I wanted you to be here tonight. Dr. Zweinstein can take his opinions elsewhere.”

They were silent, just looking at each other, and Jaden felt like he should say something, but he couldn’t. His mind was blank, which was unfortunate because his heart was full and he wanted to thank Bastion for coming out here, for defending him, for being so perfect and wonderful, for being so loving. The anxieties and thoughts of not being enough, the image of Zweinstein staring at him over his glasses, those horrid fantasies of Bastion being with some nameless, faceless person in a lab coat—they all dissipated. They weren’t buried, just gone, like they’d never occupied his thoughts. His Inner Bastion was very smugly telling him that Jaden should’ve listened to him in the first place.

“How’d I get so lucky?” Jaden laughed, a real laugh, leaning in to kiss his boyfriend, pressing their lips together, feeling Bastion’s hand tighten around his own. Lingering for just a moment longer, he pulled back, resting their foreheads together, feeling lighter and happier and overwhelmingly content.

“I’m the lucky one.” Bastion smiled, tightening his hold on Jaden’s shoulders. “Will you come back inside with me?”

“Sure, yeah,” Jaden refrained from adding that if Zweinstein even looked at him the wrong way he’d throw a wine glass at him.

“Oh, here.” Bastion’s hold on him was gone and he was shrugging out of his blazer. “Take this.”

“Sorry,” Jaden looked down at the still-wet sleeves of his own blazer. “I’ll do laundry when we get home.”

“It’s quite alright. Please don’t do laundry. The last time you turned all of my white shirts gray.”

“Hey, come on,” Jaden stuck his tongue out, heard Bastion laughing at him. “I looked cute in that apron, though.”

“I’m not sure stapling hand towels together and tying them around your waist counts as an apron.”

“You aren’t denying that I looked cute.”

“No, I’m not.” Bastion helped Jaden out of his blazer, draping his own over Jaden’s shoulders.

There was something heavy in the front pocket of Bastion’s blazer, too big to be a phone, not jingly enough to be keys. “Babe?”

“Mmm?”

“What’s in here?”

“A flask.”

Bastion brought a flask? “I’m not complaining, babe, but, uh—why?”

“Well,” Bastion pushed up his sleeve to look at his watch, the one Jaden had gotten him for his birthday, the face decorated with little stars that glowed in the dark. “Alexis is giving a speech in about five minutes. Thought you might like to play a drinking game.”

“I’ve never been more in love with you than at this moment.” Jaden shot up, extending a hand to his boyfriend, who was laughing and looking perfect with that boring white shirt and eyes reflecting the starlight. “Let’s go back inside.”

#darkmagiattack #asks #tutorshipping #this was so fun thank you for requesting!!!! #i know this was supposed to be a fluffy ask but its insecure jaden hours

[incorrectcrows]

Nina heard three-footed steps approaching her room and groaned. She assessed in her head who she knew with canes. There was a 60 year old man whose hip pain she eased, and there was Kaz. She prayed for the former. Sadly, the boy confirmed her suspicions when she opened the door, throwing a bundle of clothes at her.

“Hurry up Zenik. Change now, we’ve got to be there in half an hour.”

“Fucks sake Kaz-“ she was about to protest before she saw the bizarre sight before her. Kaz stood in an ill fitting blue blazer and yellow striped tie over a mustard polo shirt. His cane was a modest black rod, with no crows head to be seen.

“Not a word.”

She’d gotten the same outfit but with a skirt instead of slacks, she made a face of disgust. Some weak form of trust had formed between her and Kaz, but she still hesitated before taking off her cheap imitation kefta. “Explain.”

“There’s a merch planning something, we just don’t know the details. He knew we were looking for him so he skipped town before we could get to him. His son however, is still in school. It’s customary for merchants to talk business with their heirs.”

“So go in yourself.”

“He’s protected. Even getting in the school is near impossible, they’ve got grisha on their payroll to detect admission forgeries. The only real ones I could get were of two siblings.” Kaz paused and put on an outlandish rural Kerch accent. “Congratulations sister Fleur, it’s your brother Diedrich.”

Nina scoffed while tying her striped tie. “But what about the original siblin-“

“Don’t worry about it.”

Nina decided that might be for the best as she slipped on her blazer. “How much?”

“Ten thousand.”

She paused and piqued an eyebrow at Kaz. “No.”

Kaz's black eyes bored into her. “Fine.”

Nina crossed her arms. “Fine.”

Kaz pinched the bridge of his nose. “Zenik, I have forged Novyi Zem adoption papers at the ready, Fahey outside-,” a flicker of a heartbeat, “-and a pretty convincing speech that Fleur is a Zemeni boy’s name, I’m offering this to spare me a mild inconvenience.”

Nina put her hand to her chin like she was considering it. “Tell Jesper I said hi.”

Kaz glared at her. She glared back.

He sighed, “What gave it away?”

She smiled. “Heartrender, remember? I want twenty.”

“Fifteen.” 

“Twenty.”

“Fifteen.”

“Twenty.”

Kaz exhaled through his nose for a bit longer than normal. “Let’s go Fleur.”

Nina beamed.

“Wipe that stupid smile off your face.”

Nina beamed wider.

#writing #plot twist motherfuckers #im like 6 months late.