#i spent $2 on some little heart shaped containers some of which are pink

[sapphicautistic]

More pink heart shaped items would fix me

#updates on my boring life #i spent $2 on some little heart shaped containers some of which are pink #and then proceeded to stim with them so much that within 2 hours none of the pink ones would stay latched 😂 #i swapped lids with the blue ones and they work ok now #great for pills n earplugs n earrings etc #they delight me #my real toxic trait is that items DO make me happy

[laurasimonsdaughter]

I still have kitsune on the brain, so here is a little folkloric research for your entertainment:

Most kitsune stories I know are either tragic or trickster romances. Either the kitsune dies or disappears forever when she is discovered, or she set out to deceive her partner for the hell of it. So when I saw a kitsune story with a happy end referred to as “the oldest recorded kitsune tale”, I was very upset that I had never heard of it before:

Ono, an inhabitant of Mino (says an ancient Japanese legend of A.D. 545), spent the seasons longing for his ideal of female beauty. He met her one evening on a vast moor and married her. Simultaneously with the birth of their son, Ono’s dog was delivered of a pup which as it grew up became more and more hostile to the lady of the moors. She begged her husband to kill it, but he refused. At last one day the dog attacked her so furiously that she lost courage, resumed vulpine shape, leaped over a fence and fled.

"You may be a fox," Ono called after her, "but you are the mother of my son and I will always love you. Come back when you please; you will always be welcome."

So every evening she stole back and slept in his arms.

Thus says Wikipedia. The source given for this story is Frank Hamel’s “Human Animals”, cited as being from 2003 (p. 89), but this book was originally published in 1915. His source for this story (which he actually bothers to cite!) is Captain F. Brinkley’s Japan: Its History, Arts, and Literature, from 1902 (Volume 5, p. 197). I couldn’t get access to a copy of his work, perhaps he also included his source, but there is another, more direct source for this story, even though the English translation is more recent:

In 1997 Kyoko Motomochi Nakamura published “Miraculous Stories from the Japanese Buddhist Tradition: The Nihon Ryōiki of the Monk Kyōkai”, an annotated translation of “the first collection of Buddhist legends in Japan”, at the time meant to be used by Buddhist priests to teach the people. This Nihon Ryōiki contains a kitsune story, which the Japanese Wikipedia page on kitsune refers to as possibly the oldest written source. Nakamura’s translation of Kyōkai’s tale is longer than Hamel’s version, changes the era it took place in, clears up some name confusion, and adds some very particular details. For instance the origin of the name “kitsune” (Nakamura, 1997, Volume 1, tale 2, p. 104-105):

On Taking a Fox as a Wife and Bringing Forth a Child

In the reign of Emperor Kinmei (that is, Amekuni-oshihiraki-hironiwa no mikoto, the emperor who resided at the Palace of Kanazshi in Shikishima), a man from Ōno district of Mino province set out on horseback in search of a good wife. In a field he came across a pretty and responsive girl. He winked at her and asked, “Where are you going, Miss?” “I am looking for a good husband,” she answered. So he asked, “Will you be my wife?” and, when she agreed, he took her to his house and married her.

Before long she became pregnant and gave birth to a boy. At the same time their dog also gave birth to a puppy, it being the fifteenth of the twelfth month. This puppy constantly barked at the mistress and seemed fierce and ready to bite. She became so frightened that she asked her husband to beat the dog to death. But he felt sorry for the dog and could not bear to kill it.

In the second or third month, when the annual quota of rice was hulled, she went to the place where the female servants were pounding rice in a mortar to give them some refreshments. The dog, seeing her, ran after her barking and almost bit her. Startled and terrified, she suddenly changed into a wild fox and jumped on top of the hedge.

Having seen this, the man said, “Since a child was born between us, I cannot forget you. Please come always and sleep with me.” She acted in accordance with her husband’s words and came and slept with him. For this reason she was named “Kitsune” meaning “come and sleep.”

Slender and beautiful in her red skirt (it is called pink), she would rustle away from her husband, whereupon he sang of his love for his wife:

Love fills me completely After a moment of reunion. Alas! She is gone.

The man named his child Kitsune, which became the child’s surname—Kitsune no atae. The child, famous for his enormous strength, could run as fast as a bird flies. He is the ancestor of the Kitsune-no-atae family in Mino province.

Nakamura’s notes state that while kitsune means fox, according to folk etymology kitsu-ne means “come and sleep” while “ki-tsune” means “come always”. “Atae” is stated to be “a hereditary title conferred on the family of a local governor who was of the local gentry class.” The song the husband sings for his fox-wife is originally a piece of traditional thirty-one syllable poetry.

Short as it is, I can easily see how this story would have become a prototype for the romantic kitsune. I have seen people interpret this story as the kitsune coming back to sleep with her husband only one last time, thereafter disappearing forever. But it seems to me that you could also interpret it as her coming back every night and disappearing every morning. Still tragic, still intensely yearning, but not quite as sad.

Of course I prefer the happier interpretation. It offers an interesting comparison to West-European fairy tales where a lover takes the shape of a beast or animal by day, but transforms into a beautiful youth by night. Except in those cases it is usually a curse and the human form is seen as the “true form”. The kitsune, however, is always a fox at heart. Which always makes it odd to me to see them referred to as were-foxes. Japanese folklore is very clear that even while they look like humans, they never truly stop being foxes. Which is why they never stay with humans in the end, even if they love them. So I hope that this kitsune, especially if she really was the first one, at least got to spend half her time with her human family.

#kitsune #sources #japanese folklore #laura babbles #fox #fox shapeshifter #shapeshifter #shapeshifters

[stellarrmoon]

Before I die, I'm tryna fuck you, baby

Pairing: Bokuto Koutaro × fem!reader

Genre: Smut

Honorary Mention: name??? kink

Status: unedited

You were at a volleyball tournament that your cousin was playing at. You had to support him since you hadn't seen him in a year or so and his team was playing against the nationally known Fukurodani volleyball team. The actual game hadn't started yet but you were there early because you wanted to cheer him up before he had to go play.

"You're gonna do amazing, cuz. I believe in you!"

Your aunt's eldest son looked down at you with a smile, embracing you in a hug of gratitude. "Thanks, y/n. I hope we win but if we lose then we'll lose with dignity. The country's 4th top ace is in their team after all."

"Wait really? That's insane. I wonder what he looks like."

You didn't know that that curiosity of yours would be solved in the next 5 minutes. When it was time to go to the stands, you bumped into a quite beefy (in your words) person's chest and judging by the number 4 on the front of his shirt, you guessed that he was on one of the teams in the tournament.

"Hey, hey, hey, be careful, pretty lady." He had a pretty playful voice and you looked up to see a smirk on his handsome face.

"Oh. Excuse me, sir." You bowed your head and walked on when he stepped aside for you. But you couldn't help but look behind you as you continued your journey and the grey and black back of his head stayed in your mind the whole walk to the stands.

Once you got there, you saw that the teams were already on the court, in their huddles, getting themselves fired up for the match. People were cheering all around you for their respective teams and you called out your cousin's name in support. He looked up and found you instantly, putting a thumbs up in the air.

The Fukurodani team did a small warcry before dispersing to their positions and when you saw who their wing spiker was, your jaw dropped. The smirk that was on his face was a bit different that the one you saw earlier and as soon as the whistle blew, you figured out why.

The match was intense and while you were meant to be looking at your cousin, your eyes were stuck on the wing spiker, who you realised was the 4th ranked ace your cousin was talking about. He flew and slammed each and every ball that was set to him and after each spike, he let out a cry of victory. You thought it was quite attractive, seeing how fired up he got but at the end of the match, your heart broke a little for your cousin seeing how they were beaten 2 sets to 1.

"I'm so sorry, cuz, you'll get them next time."

You spent the next 20 minutes cheering him up and catching up with him before his team had to leave for their next match. Before you knew it, the tournament was over and you bid your cousin adieu as their team bus left for their home school.

"Was that your boyfriend, pretty lady?"

You gasped when a sudden presence appeared beside you. It was the beefy dude. Aka the wing spiker, ace and captain of Fukurodani. "Wow, when did you get here?"

"I've been watching since the other team entered the bus. Wanna answer my question?"

You shifted your position to face him and damn, you could've swooned right there. His nose bridge was perfectly straight and the only curve was the upturn between his nostrils. His lips were a luscious baby pink and his eyes a golden brown. Coupled with his confident aura, this man was hot.

"Enjoying the view? I don't blame you."

You smiled in amusement, "If you must know, that wasn't my boyfriend, that was my cousin."

"Oh, well that's good news for me."

"And may I ask why?"

He looked you up and down before biting his lip and saying, "That means you're free to take."

You couldn't help but get embarrassed at his statement and suddenly, you wondered why you hadn't called a taxi yet. "You're very... confident with your words sir."

"It's my specialty." He smirked again but this time, it was a bit lazy, which made him seem more attractive to you. "Are you waiting for someone?"

You got out your phone and started to call a local cab agency, "No, I've got to order a cab."

Unexpectedly, he gently took the phone from your hands and ended the call just as the number had answered. "Don't worry about it, sweetheart. I've got a car."

Even though you had just met this guy, you decided to accept his offer. He told you that his name was Bokuto Koutarou, which had a nice ring to it once you got used to the pronunciation. You told him your address and before you knew it, you were back home. "Hey, I didn't even give you directions."

"Well, sweetheart, that's because I live right next door to you." He said it so casually as if it was a mystery why you hadn't met each other till then.

"What?! Since when?"

"We moved in last month but since I'm always having practice, I usually come back home later than everyone else in the neighbourhood. Anyways, it was nice meeting you, pretty lady. I'll be sure to see you again."

You exited his car and walked to your porch chuckling at the odds. You had a feeling there was more to happen than you thought.

Weeks went by and it turned out that your room was directly across Bokuto's, which meant that you could wave to each other through your windows every morning when you got ready. He'd be wearing his uniform to go to his school and so would you when you saw each other before leaving.

He didn't take his car though, which meant that you couldn't get any more car rides from him. But it was probably for the best since you couldn't stop having dirty thoughts about him. It's how your day would start, seeing as you imagined having his school tie wrapped around your neck while he pulled you towards his face so you could-

See?

Sometimes you would have conversations through your windows but they were often short seeing as you were both in your final year and had to study for the last exams and for some reason, everytime he cut your chats short to go back to the books, it made your heart pound.

But it wasn't to say that it wasn't the same for him. Seeing you in that short, plaid skirt did something to him and he didn't particularly enjoy having a boner while going to Fukurodani High.

One day, he came back home early since there wasn't any practice and saw you changing through your window. Well, not exactly, but he could see your silhouette through your thin curtains and my, my, did he not almost drool.

You took off your shirt first and threw it on your chair, then your skirt came off next. The curve of your spine blended perfectly with the rounded shape of your butt and he subconsciously bit his lip while his eyes stayed glued to your form. He guessed that you were now only in your underwear and the thigh high socks you had to wear and his pants immediately felt tighter at the image. "Fuck."

Before you continued to take anything else off, he turned away and went to go have a cold shower. Deep down, he was nervous wreck. The confidence was natural to him but when it came to you... it seemed that it was wearing thin.

Only a few days went by and Bokuto caught you every time after school when you were changing. He felt like a pervert for using the short scene to masturbate every single night.

That saturday, your mother asked you to go take over some muffins to the house next door, because she had met the parents of the home earlier that week. You were fine with it until you realised that it was the Bokuto Residence and you would see... him.

Softly, you knocked on the door and unbeknownst to you, a shirtless Bokuto Koutarou answered the door. Both your eyes widened, his with shock and yours with embarrassment. He was sweating and you watched as a few drops travelled down his hard chest, six-pack abs and into his shorts via his very prominent v-line. "Woah..."

"Hey, hey, hey. Nice to see you in front of me again, pretty lady."

He propped his elbow on the side of the door so you could see his laterals and biceps become more prominent and you felt yourself swallow. "Uh- my, uh- mom. Cupcakes. Bring over. I–"

He took the container from you and opened it, while raising an eyebrow. Inside were red velvet cupcakes, with white, cream icing on top and they looled good so he took one. One bite in, he closed his eyes and moaned, "Mmm, sweetheart, that's delicious."

When he opened his eyes, they were lazier as he licked the icing on his lip off. "T-thanks. I'll tell her that..."

You left immediately after that and as soon as you entered your room, jumped onto your bed and screamed into the pillow. Even Bokuto heard it from his kitchen while finished his 3rd cupcake and he furrowed his eyebrows.

You couldn't believe you saw him like that. He looked so... hot. His black and white hair was drenched in sweat and instead of classically being styled up, it fell over his forehead. Not to mention his amazing body and the... the veins that disappeared into his shorts.

"What the hell? What just happened?"

You stared at the ceiling for longer than you thougt and before you knew it, it was nighttime. Looking over to Bokuto's window, you saw that it wasn't covered by curtains. His bedroom door opened and he plopped onto his bed without noticing you. You were about to greet when he flopped onto his back and suddenly, his dick sprung up in the air.

What. The. Fuck?

You were frozen in astonishment and it was worse when you saw his hand start to slowly move up and down his shaft. He was moaning softly from the little you could hear through the open window and before you knew it, he was thrusting into his hand. He seemed so desperate trying to catch his high that you clenched your thighs as you felt yourself get wet.

"Mm, fuck, Y/N!"

And he exploded. You saw his cum shoot up into the air before it landed somewhere, you didn't know the exact place but, as soon as it happened, you closed your curtains and went to your shower.

Bokuto heard the noise but when he looked back, nothing was out of the ordinary. Except... his window. Wide open. "Shit."

When you were done with your (cold) shower, you saw a text from Bokuto that read:

Bokuto Koutarou: Hey, did you hear anything weird today?

You: what do you mean?

Bokuto Koutarou: like... from my house.

You contemplated your answer before responding.

You: nope.

He left the message on read and let out a huge sigh of relief. Thank God you didn't hear him or else he would've buried himself alive.

Both of you went to sleep feeling weird that night; none of you knew of the rest to come.

On Sunday, you were home alone and suddenly remembered that your mom asked you to fetch your container from the Bokutos before she left on a business trip. "Oh shit!"

You went over immediately, without thinking of what you were wearing and knocked. Luckily, Mrs Bokuto answered the door but she looked as if she was leaving. "Hi Mrs Bokuto. May I please fetch my mom's container?"

"Oh, of course, darling. Me and my husband are going away on holiday for the week and we have to leave for the airport now so help yourself, please? It's on the counter. The kitchen is to the right."

With that, she exited her house and her husband followed with two suitcases on either of his hands. He smiled in acknowledgement and without any more time to waste, their white Lexus sped off.

Like she said, you helped yourself in and went to the said kitchen. You were glad it was easy to spot the container because it really was on the counter. But what you didn't particularly enjoy was freezing when you heard a familiar voice speaking to you.

"Hey, hey, hey, pretty lady. Any reason why you're in my house?"

You turned and saw Bokuto Koutarou leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. Thankfully he was dressed today. "Bokuto. Hi. I'm here to fetch my mom's container."

"Oh. And here I thought you were here to visit me."

You smiled sheepishly and started moving forward, container in hand. As you were about to exit the room, he moved in front of you, arms still crossed.

"Um..." you stepped to the side but he followed you. "Can I get passed?"

"No."

"Wh-"

"You can't get passed. I'm tired of playing your games, pretty lady."

"Bokuto-"

"Koutarou. Call me by my name."

For some reason, his hostile behaviour was making you... horny? The way he crossed his arms so his jacket stuck to his muscles like a second skin; the way his jaw was locked as he looked down on you with his golden eyes. The way he towered over you with his legs apart, his stance mimicking that of a predator about to catch its prey.

"Go on. Say it."

You hesitated and stammered. Instead of you usual strong voice, his name came out as a defeated whisper, "Koutarou..."

He took the container in your hands and threw it into the counter so that it banged against the wall between the cupboards and the former. You flinched at the loud sound, but impressed with how good his aim was. He took steps forward which made you step back in turn. This continued until your back hit the island in the middle of the kitchen and you had nowhere else to go. "You know what I'm talking about right?"

It sounded more like a statement than a question. "No..." You had a feeling that:

"I know, y/n. I know you saw."

"Saw what?" You didn't know why you were still acting clueless because it didn't seem to be working. But what made you finally succumb to his interrogation was when he forced his knee between your thighs and pressed his body against yours.

It was hot. Or was it you? Maybe him? You couldn't think straight with his cologne engulfing you. "Mmm... just like you to get sll flustered. You know how cute you look when that happens? Now I'm going to give you one more chance to admit to your actions."

"I... I did see." You sighed.

"Mhm. Tell me what you saw, pretty lady."

You closed your eyes and went limp, "I saw you cum. When you said my name."

He grabbed your thighs and lifted you so you could sit on the counter of the island, situating himself between your legs. "And did you enjoy that, princess?"

"I don't know."

He squeezed your waist.

"I think you're lying." He moved his head so that his lips were by your ear. "You know what I hate? It's how you don't know how sexy you are to me. Look at you." He was speaking so lowly and slowly that you were hooked on his every word– it was making your pussy quiver. "You think you can come into my house wearing that thin fucking sundress?"

Suddenly, his other hand moved under your dress, caressing your thigh and stopped at the apex where he rubbed his thumb back and forth on the soft skin.

"You don't even have any panties on." You could feel his smirk against your ear. "It's like you knew you were going to see me."

He pulled back and you could breathe again. He walked away, his large back moving further and further away from you as he stopped his antics. "Bokut- Koutarou, wait!"

He stopped and craned his head. He had such a beautiful side profile.

"I did see. And... I liked it. I liked it a lot. In fact, I've fantasized about you so many times since we met and I can't take it anymore."

"So what am I supposed to do about that, sweetheart?"

"Bokuto Koutarou... please fuck me."

It sounded like a plea for help and honestly, it was all he needed to unleash himself. The next few moments were a blur for you because you went from being on the island to being in Koutarou's bed, watching him strip down to nothing without shame.

"Koutarou." You breathed when you saw his dick – it looked even bigger than before. Was that going to fit inside you?

"I'll make it fit, princess." He grinned and beckoned you over to him at the edge of the bed.

You crawled on all fours, feeling your dress ride up over your ass and it was met with cold air. So now you were face to cock with Bokuto Koutarou and it looked like you were about to know the true meaning of choking.

"You're staring at it like you want it in your mouth." He caressed your cheek and let his thumb run along your bottom lip, pulling it down before releasing it. His strong hand grabbed a hold of his hard shaft and you felt a sudden slap against your face. "Is that what you want, princess?"

He slapped you with his dick. Due to the size of it, it was a bit painful but instead of feeling offended, you felt your wetness drip down your thighs. It was still in his hand, but this time, when he moved it, he placed the tip against your lips.

"Hm? You want this cock down your throat?"

You were looking up at him with your pretty brown eyes that looked like they were tearing up and it turned him on to no end.

He leaned over and to your surprise, swiped his hand across your slit from behind, collecting a sticky puddle of your wetness in his hand and placing it on his dick. Your eyes widened as he coated his shaft with it while your lips were still on his tip. "I'm gonna need you to be a good girl for me and take my cock well, okay?"

You nodded without hesitation and finally, you opened your mouth. In went his dick and you gagged immediately at the shear size as it touched the back of your throat. It was already slippery due to the coat of your juices but one thing was prominent.

"Can you taste yourself on my cock, baby? Hm? Do you like it? The way you're slobbered all over my dick?"

You couldn't do anything except blow him. Your cheeks hollowed out as you took him in and out, and in and out. Eventually he had his head thrown back and he was moaning out every other word like "baby", "fuck", and "you're killing me, princess".

It was another 5 minutes before he had enough and he pushed you onto your back, spread your legs as wide as they could and dived into your cunt. "Fuck, Bokuto!"

He slapped your thigh hardly which led you to yelp, making you wonder what you did to deserve it. "I told you to call me by my name."

You understood him perfectly. But the way his tongue moved against your clit didn't warrant any say of his name, or any word, even. All you sounded like was "Mmm" and "yes" and "please"; it was music to his ears. He coupled his tongue movements with two fingers inside you. You were tight around them so that he could barely separate them but the way he curled them towards himself hit a spot you didn't know you had. "Ohhhh my God, Koutarou."

"That's right, say my name, princess." He growled against your clit. He started getting more aggressive as time went on and eventually, he started hitting you on your abdomen, your thighs, and even your clit. Your nipples were straining against your dress as you arched your back, feeling a particular knot get tighter and tighter.

"Koutarou, I'm going to-"

"Do it, baby. Cum on my face."

He sucked and fucked until you did as he said, hips locking as lapped his tongue along your slit while you rode out your orgasm. Your legs were trembling by the end of it but he didn't feel like giving you a break.

"I'm going to fuck you so good, princess." He said as he climbed over you, kissing you deeply and letting you taste yourself on his lips. His tongue entered excitedly and he moaned into your mouth. Your dress was long gone now seeing as he ripped it straight down the middle.

Your chests were pressed together so your boobs were against his pecs and it felt so good to you that you let out a small mewl. While he planted kisses and bites down your neck, you caught your breath and looked up to the ceiling to see... a mirror. There was a mirror on the ceiling and that meant you could see everything that was happening.

Your worn out face. Koutarou's back muscles rippling as he paid attention to your chest and neck; his ass that you could imagine gripping onto as he thrusted hard into you.

He stopped what he was doing and looked into your eyes, "Are you ready?"

"For what?- Ohhhhh." You looked at your own face through the mirror above as he slowly pushed himself in. The stretch of your cunt felt so good that it hurt and you couldn't help but cry. "Fuck, Koutarou."

"Say it again." He started thrusting, "Say my name again."

"Koutarouuuu." You droned out.

His hips moved relentlessly. It seemed that he was waiting for this for a long time and now you understood why. It felt so good. "I fit so perfectly inside you, princess."

As his dick slipped in again, he hit the spot from earlier except, it felt so much more intense. "Yes, Koutarou, do it again."

And so he did. He was moaning along with you, whispering dirty words into your ear and the deeper he went inside you, the closer you were to cumming. You pushed his shoulders up so that you could see his face and as soon as you made eye contact, he smiled. It was so devilish and hedonistic and it fit him perfectly.

He bit his lip as he looked down to see yourselves colliding. In, out. In, out. That's what his dick was doing. In and out of your squelching pussy and so easily, that he could've sworn that your hole was made for him. "Koutarou, I'm going to cum again."

"That's a good girl. Do it for me, princess. Cum on my cock."

He went back to thrusting deeply and languidly and as you watched his big form move above you, you went over the edge creamed with him inside you. "Oh yes, oh yes, Koutarou, I love it."

"You love it?" He asked as he pumped through your climax.

"Yes, baby, I do. Give it to me, more, please, Koutarou."

He groaned, "I love it when you say my name. Can I cum inside, princess?"

"You ca- do whatever you want, Ko- koutarou." You belted out as more orgasms overtook you.

"Say it again."

"KOUTAROU, MY GOD!!!"

That was what it took for him to cum inside you. He stayed in there for a while, sweat dripping from his chin onto your face. Your bodies were sticky and sweaty from his sex and it both of you were worn out.

"Koutarou..." you started but were interrupted by him pulling out and roughly turning you onto your stomach.

He pulled your hips up so you were face down, ass up and licked his lips when he saw your combined cum squeezing out of your cunt. "Round Two, pretty lady."

I guess, you were the only one worn out?

#bokuto #bokuto koutarou #bokuto x reader #haikyuusmut #haikyuu #haikyuu smut #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #fukurodani #high school #mutial pining #kuroo #kenma

[vampcubus]

Izuku with a reader with a vampire like quirk (acts like Marceline from adventure time) and likes to sing. She and Uraraka argue and fight for his attention and affection. Fluff and angst at the end please. I really like your writing luv! Keep up the good work!! UwU

| A/N: I had so much fun writing this so it got pretty lengthy! It’s also not as fluffy as I had first intended, but I hope you like it nonetheless! |

(Edit: It’s been split up into two parts due to text block limitations.)

♡ Warnings: Angst, blood-drinking.♡

♡ Words: 2200+ ♡

See part 2 … here

.   .   .

Bite Me (Midoriya/Vampire!Reader) [Part 1]

You reclined on Midoriya’s bed in his dorm room, fingers plucking at the strings of your guitar to find a good rhythm that stuck. You were technically here for a friendly study session with Midoriya, Iida, and Uraraka, but your bluenette friend canceled last minute so it was just you three. Which, was fine you could still get a lot of work in.

The only thing was, it wasn’t fine. Your eyes drifted from the strings to where Ochako and Deku sat adjacent to you, laughing about something you didn’t care to know about.

Midoriya has barely paid any attention to you the entire time you’ve been here and it was getting on your damn nerves. You frowned, leaning further away from the rays of sun that shone through the slightly open curtains. He always made sure to close them for you when you came over. I guess he was too busy with Uraraka to care.

Not that you couldn’t close them yourself! But that wasn’t the point.

As selfish as it may sound you like to think that he thinks about you. And normally, he does! But when Uraraka-san’s around… not so much.

Why did he like her so much? Was she better than you? Was it because she had a more reliable pulse? Better impulse control? Fuck, now you’re just making yourself feel bad.

While sifting through your bitter thoughts your fingers subconsciously caught onto a good tune, and you closed your eyes, humming to the rhythm and trying to think up some rad lyrics to pair with it. A bit early, but you were never a conformist to basic music composition anyways.

You heard Uraraka giggle and Midoriya chuckled back, the sound making you snap your eyes open and strike a harsher yet kind of nice-sounding chord.

You continued playing quietly to yourself, whispering a few different lyrics every now and then to sound them out and see which ones stuck. As you build a good foundation, you had unknowingly captured the attention of your classmates who finally turned away from the assignment and one another to look at you as you played.

She looks so concentrated! Midoriya thought as he watched you with sparkling eyes, feeling blessed to have been given the opportunity to bear witness to your creative process. He’s always admired you, especially your way with music. And now that you’re properly hanging out as friends more often, he’s written almost an entire notebook about you and your quirk! You were so cool!

Your quirk was very vampire-like in nature. You had increased physical strength and speed, the ability to float, and the more blood you consumed the stronger you were. Not only that but you could shape-shift into a bat! A cute one at that… Midoriya smiled crookedly at that, reminded of the time you fell asleep in class and when Mr. Aizawa smacked a book down on your desk. You got so frightened you poofed into a little bat version of yourself!

He might have drawn your bat form too…

Some might say your quirk was a little villainous, but he didn’t see it that way at all! You’d make a great hero one day, regardless of how er… exotic? Morbid? Your quirk was.

“Wow, Y/N-chan, that sounds really good so far!” Midoriya gushed a little, shaking you from your focused trance and negative thoughts—accidentally pulling the wrong string, making you cringe.

“Oh-uh, thanks!” You blushed, feeling the blood rise to your usually ice-cold cheeks.

“You’re going to make a great artist one day. After you go pro that is.” Deku flattered, freckled cheeks lighting up with the slightest dusting of pink. That’s also when he noticed the weird angle you were leaning to keep out of the light streaming through the curtains.

“Oh no! The curtains! I completely f-forgot, I’m so sorry, Y/N-chan!” He stuttered apologetically, scrambling to his feet to go and pull the curtains shut. You sighed in relief leaning back into a more comfortable position. “You should’ve said something.” He frowned, the guilt clear in his mesmerizing emerald green eyes.

“D-don’t worry about it, Deku. You looked… busy.” You coughed awkwardly, fingers subconsciously returning to strumming across the strings to distract yourself.

To your delight, Midoriya sat closer to you this time. And you shot Uraraka a subtle-yet-victorious glance, to which you were met with her frustrated one. It was almost like there was an invisible bolt of lightning between you, cracking challengingly between two rivals as you shared a familiar look of ‘friendly’ competition. You knew she had a crush on Deku, and she knew that you had feelings for him in turn. Neither of you wanted to step away, both dead set on winning Deku’s affections for your own. Of course, the little green ray of sunshine had no idea about this, but he didn’t need to know.

“Can you—um… c-can you possibly… teach me some things?” Midoriya asked bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck, eyes darting from your own now-softer ones and your guitar. Your normally-still heart swelled and beat a few times, your cheeks burning. You felt the excitement bubble inside and you couldn’t help but give him an enthusiastic fanged smile. You didn’t even have time to send Uraraka a bragging look, you were too eager.

“Of course!” You exclaimed, slipping your guitar strap off your shoulder. “Scoot a bit closer.”

A while later you found yourself sitting behind Deku, arms wrapped around him to guide his clumsy hands across the strings of your favorite guitar. He had been incredibly nervous the first few lessons, especially with you touching him like this, but he relaxed once you got him into the zone. Uraraka scribbled away at an assignment to your left, sending you glances every now and then.

For once you weren’t worried about her though. All you could think about was the rough texture of Midoriya’s hands under your own as you adjusted his posture once more.

“Hey, there ya go, you’re getting the hang of this!” You complimented, and he flushed, cringing when his fingers fumbled and played the wrong tune. “You’re fine. You’re a natural, Deku!”

“You think so?” He asked, eyes shiny as they glanced over his shoulder at you. You avoided his gaze deliberately to hide the heat that had risen to your face.

“Mm-hm.” You hummed, trying to contain your excitement as he managed to play a few basic tunes. You were so proud!

“Hey, Deku?” Came Uraraka’s voice out of nowhere. You’d forgotten she was there… Midoriya turned to her, asking her what she needed. “I’m having a hard time with this problem, can you help me out?”

Ochako smiled charmingly, tilting her head to the side in a cute way as her pink cheeks spread with her grin. You scoffed, covering it up with a fake cough when Midoriya gave you a questioning look. She wasn’t that cute.

Apparently, that was an unpopular opinion because Midoriya gingerly returned your instrument and scooched over to the end of the bed to help Uraraka with her assignment. You weren’t saying that she didn’t actually need help, but you weren’t saying that you trusted her either. You knew she was just trying to deter his attention from you and onto herself.

You sighed, standing up from the bed with a look of temporary defeat.

“Sorry, guys. I think imma leave, catch you later.” You announced, and while your back was turned you missed the look of disappointment on Midoriya’s face. You slid your guitar over your shoulder to rest on your back and slung your book bag over your other shoulder. Your green-haired classmate didn’t have much time to say goodbye before you were crossing the room to the door.

“Oh, okay I’ll see you—” the door closes before he can finish. “Later…”

.   .   .

The next morning you sat on the steps at the entrance of U.A. with your guitar, doing your usual morning fiddling around with a new song. The same one you started the night prior. You’d gotten pretty far, an open notebook with scrawled lyrics and music notes balance on your outstretched knee crossed casually over the other.

You used to do this while waiting for your friends to come to school, perhaps serenade them jokingly as they approached. Even after moving into your dorm, you couldn’t quite shake the habit.

The sun wasn’t ideal, but you had a giant sun hat and the appropriate clothing for being outside in it. Deku usually met you on the stairs anyways so why would you move?

“Hey there, Y/N!” You hear Deku call from behind you.

Speak of the devil.

You turned your head to look over your shoulder, flashing him a fanged smile while your finger continued dragging your pick across the strings. “Heyyy, g’morning sleepy, you’re later than usual.”

He laughed nervously, walking over to sit down on the stairs beside you. Now that you got a better look at him, you noticed how drained he looked, the bags underneath his eyes more prominent in the light of the morning sun. A gentle wind rustled his curly green hair, and his jade eyes reflected the glare of the sun, making them almost glow.

Your cool cheeks darkened and you cleared your throat, eyes darting from him to save yourself the embarrassment.

“Long night?” You asked and he nodded sheepishly. He’d spent most of the night studying with Uraraka who was unusually… enthusiastic? He wasn’t sure how to put it.

“You usually stay up with us. Was something wrong last night? You left… so suddenly.” Midoriya looked to you expectantly, eyes crinkled with concern and something else you couldn’t quite place. You tried to laugh it off in your usual cool, smooth way, playing a bit more enthusiastically in an attempt to sell it further.

“Nah, man I’m cool. I was just… I was just.” Your words failed you when you were suddenly taken back to last night, the stare Uraraka had given you, how jealous you’d felt. So much so that you just couldn’t stand being in the room any longer. The same reason the lyrics of the same song you’d been working on since then were so bitter. You couldn’t help it, really. The way Ochako looked at him sometimes sent your blood way over the boiling point.

It was like a parasite, feeding on your patience with every tiny competition for Deku’s attention until eventually one of you cracked. It wouldn’t be you.

You jumped when you felt a hand on your shoulder and whipped your head to the side to see Midoriya with a sympathetically worried expression, hand twitching on your shoulder. The coolness of your flesh crept through even your sleeves and for a moment he was mesmerized by it. He made a mental note to scribble it down in his notebook later. You felt the frosty sheen of your resolve melt under his touch. Not many had the balls to touch you.

“You were just what? Are you okay?” He asked, not sure if the surprised look of confusion swirling in your eyes as they reflected some of the morning light—even from under the huge sun hat on top of your head—meant that you were going to get angry or not. You didn’t normally respond well to others worrying about you when you could obviously take care of yourself.

“Pssh—Yeah! I’m fine, quit worrying. Wouldn’t want any of your pretty green hair falling out for me.” You chuckled, and his spotted cheeks bloomed a light pink. Did you just say he had pretty hair? You looked away from him and back to your guitar with a newly-lit smile. It was alarming how much effect this boy had on you, being able to cheer you up just by worrying for you. “And uh, if you’re free later…”

“Yes!” You blinked at him as he blurted it before you could even finish your sentence. Did he even know what you were going to say?

“Uh…”

“I-I mean, um…” Izuku blushed madly, realizing that he’d just gotten way too ahead of himself. He must sound so desperate right now! The truth is that he would’ve said yes regardless of what you asked, never the type to pass up the chance to hang with you. “S-sorry, please continue.”

“I was going to ask if you wanted s’more guitar lessons.” You giggled at his embarrassed posture, palm shielding his face from you as it reddened.

“O-only if you promise to train with me!” He blurted out without thinking, eyes shining with emerald stars as he stood up from the stairs.

He couldn’t help it. He’s been wanting to ask you to train with him for such a long time but never knew how to ask without coming off as strange. Your quirk fascinated him, and he still knew so little about it! And what better way to evaluate your quirk than in a fight?

Again you blinked, caught off-guard by his enthusiasm.

Hah, what a fanboy. Can’t blame him though, I am pretty rad.

“Deal.” You grinned, showing off your pearly-white fangs, floating into the air and strumming your guitar as you made your way inside.

#izuku midoriya x reader #midoriya x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #izuku x reader #deku x reader #izuku midoriya #midoriya izuku #midoriya #deku #bnha x reader #mha x reader #vampire!reader #bnha #mha #bnha fanfiction #blood

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 8 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Guess what? We’re posting this today instead of tomorrow because we just love you guys so much, and your comments made us very productive today! Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: A wild night in the club led to a miserable, hangover-fueled day for Violet--and then a frustrating week, as Fame rejected all of the assistant candidates.

This Chapter: In a last-ditch effort to find a new assistant for Fame, Violet gives Courtney a shot.

***

Never in Courtney’s life had she seen a room as white, spotless and intimidating as Galactica’s reception area. She sat on the pristine sofa, hands folded in her lap, anxiety gnawing at her stomach. She’d been sending out resumes for almost 2 months, ever since she’d gotten to New York, in a desperate attempt to find a job--any job--that would allow her to stay in the United States.

This was only her second interview so far, the first one being a disaster - she’d missed her train connection and arrived late and sweaty from running ten blocks, and then the hiring manager had spent the entire time talking straight to her chest, patting her on the ass as she left while telling her that she was unqualified.

Of course she was unqualified.

Courtney was a 21-year-old who’d just graduated a few months earlier with a philosophy degree and zero office experience. Her current under-the-table job, waitressing at an Aussie-themed steakhouse in Times Square, was not going to keep her in the country. (Although she was grateful to her friend Morgan for hooking her up with it, since she’d be flat broke otherwise.)

Courtney had to stay in the country if there was any hope of her real dream coming true, which was to become a professional singer and songwriter, and maybe even a Broadway actress, if she was lucky. If she could ever get so much as an audition, which had also not happened yet. The best she’d done so far was sometimes singing with Adore’s band, but punk rock wasn’t really her style, and though she was grateful to her bestie for giving her a shot, it always felt awkward and wrong.

While she waited to be called for her interview, she prayed with all her heart; she wasn’t sure she believed in god, but it couldn’t hurt, right?

She prayed that her connection to Adore would mean something here. That Violet would remember her. That Miss Fame would like her. That the hours she’d spent carefully putting together her current outfit, getting her roots touched up and press-on nails to cover her real ones (bitten down to the quick) wouldn’t all be a waste.

Courtney heard the sound of heels coming down the hall, and then Violet appeared from around the corner. Courtney felt relief washing over her, happy to see the beautiful girl she had instantly bonded with the other night.

It was actually amazing that Violet had come through for her, making sure that her application had made it to Fame herself. Courtney smiled brightly.

“Good morning, babes!”

Violet gave her a cursory smile back, quickly checking her watch. “It’s almost noon.”

“Oh, yeah,” Courtney swallowed, feeling like an idiot as Violet looked her up and down like a zoo animal. “I was just making conversa-”

“This isn’t a place for small talk,” Violet said, then pointed at her purse. “Leave that with Roxy.”

“What?” Courtney clutched the bag to her chest. “No!” It was one of her favorite accessories, a star-shaped silver handbag with pink iridescent piping. Not to mention, it contained her phone, wallet, keys, and pretty much everything important.

“Courtney.” Violet made a small, aggravated noise. “If you want any hope of getting this job, you will leave that thing here at the front desk where Miss Fame can’t ever see it.”

Whoever this Violet was, she was very very different from the fun, friendly girl she’d met at the club.

“Okay,” Courtney agreed reluctantly, handing the bag over to the receptionist, who pinched it between her thumb and forefinger as if it was covered in dog shit.

Courtney rolled her eyes.

It wasn’t an expensive designer handbag. So what? Surely she wasn’t the first girl to own a fun, cute, novelty purse.

“Come with me,” Violet then said, taking off back down the hall.

Courtney hurried after her, following her into an immaculate conference room with a huge table. Violet gestured to one of the chairs.

“Sit down please.”

Courtney sat, nerves still on edge.

“So…” Violet sat down across from her, notebook open, looking at Courtney’s resume. She clicked her pen. “How much do you know about Galactica? Miss Fame? What research have you done on the company?”

“Oh, um…” Courtney paused, deflating a bit. She’d been prepared to talk about herself, not realizing that there was going to be a quiz. “Well, I know that it’s a very...uh, influential fashion house. And that Miss Fame is the CEO. And…”

Violet waited for another second, before she sighed deeply.

“Let me explain. Miss Fame is one of the busiest and most sought-after people in town. She started this company with Raja Gemini when she was only 26 years old. They got accepted and won the Fashion Fund on their first try. They’re visionaries. Why do you want to work here?”

“Well, I’ve always loved fashion-”

“Have you now?” Violet said, giving her a stern once-over.

Courtney felt like those judgmental eyes would melt her very soul, and suddenly became extremely self-conscious about her choice of outfit. Was her skirt too short? Did her jacket not fit right? Was she wearing anything as offensive as that purse she couldn’t even take into the office? She gulped.

“Y-yes.” It was the truth, even if Violet didn’t believe her. Ever since she could remember, Courtney had loved putting together fabulous outfits. Usually with her brother, both of them getting glammed up and prancing around the house, pretending that they were posh ladies with all the money in the world. And when they were older, he was the one who dressed her up and escorted her to talent agents and auditions--her own little stage mom. “And I did some modeling as a kid in Brisbane.”

Violet rolled her eyes. “Please don’t say that, it won’t impress her at all.”

“Alright. Well, it seems like it would be a really exciting job. And Adore always talks about how wonderful Fame is-”

“Miss Fame,” Violet corrected her. “You aren’t her friend, call her Miss. And don’t mention Adore.”

“No? But she said-”

“She’ll think it’s tacky. She would never hire someone because of a personal connection. If you get the job, it’ll be on your own merits, not because you know Adore. And not because we danced in a club the other night. Don’t mention that either.”

“Okay. Got it.” Courtney bit her lip. This whole situation seemed less and less likely to work out, the few advantages Courtney thought she might have coming in slipping through her fingers like sand.

“Look, Courtney. Working as Miss Fame’s assistant is not some frivolous job full of exciting parties and fancy clothes, okay? It requires you to be organized, and smart, and always stay ten steps ahead of everyone. You’ll need to anticipate Miss Fame’s every need, before she even knows she has them. Is that something you think you can do?”

Anticipate needs before Miss Fame knows she has them? What in the fuck was Violet talking about? She wasn’t a psychic. But this was a job interview, and Courtney supposed that she should nod and smile.

“Yes. Yes, of course,” Courtney said. “I’m...very intuitive.”

“Mmhmm. And how are you with Microsoft office?”

“Pretty good, I think. And I learn very fast,” Courtney said.

“What about communication? Written, verbal...are you a good communicator?”

“Very!” Courtney exclaimed, gaining a little bit of confidence. Finally, something she knew she could handle.

“I’m gonna be honest with you. You don’t have a lot of experience and she has been very, very picky. So your best bet, when you go in with her, is to keep your mouth shut and just listen. This job isn’t about you, it’s about what you can do for her. You don’t matter. Does that make sense?”

Courtney nodded slowly.

“I hope you don’t think I’m being harsh. I’m just trying to prepare you so that you have half a chance.”

“Oh, I know! And thank you, honestly. I really need this job. My visa is-”

“For god’s sake, don’t mention your visa. If you get the job, HR will deal with that.”

“Right, of course.” Don’t mention the visa. Don’t mention Adore. Don’t mention the club. Don’t mention modeling. Courtney’s head spun, praying she’d remember anything she was allowed to say when Fame asked her questions.

“Look. Everyone in New York wants something from Miss Fame. If you’re her assistant, your most important job is to be the gatekeeper. You need to say no to people without them realizing it’s happening. You protect her from all the madness, support her so that her brilliant creative mind can thrive. Do you understand?”

“Yes. Definitely.” Courtney nodded emphatically, and she saw the first thing that almost looked like a smile on Violet’s face since she had arrived.

“Good.” Violet glanced at her watch. “I need to get back. You can stay here until she’s ready for you. But remember...don’t say anything unless you’re answering a direct question. Okay?”

“Okay,” Courtney said.

“Good luck Courtney, and don’t fuck it up.”

With that, Violet picked up her things and sailed out of the room, leaving Courtney alone. She held her breath for a full 10 seconds before letting out a huge sigh, head dropping onto her arms.

Soon, the sound of heels approaching again caused her to jump, spine ramrod straight as Violet threw open the door and snapped her fingers.

“She’s ready. Let’s go.”

***

Fame leaned back in her chair, assessing the girl in front of her with a discerning eye.

She was certainly a pretty little thing, bright-eyed and well-groomed, definitely the right look. Of course, her shoes were cheap and a bit scuffed, the chunky heels absolutely horrifying, but that could be fixed.

She was trembling like a leaf--although Fame didn’t particularly mind that part.  

Courtney had said very little (another mark in her favor), but from what she had offered, Fame appreciated the accent right away. Something about an Australian accent tended to both impress and intimidate Americans, which could easily work in her favor.

After watching her suffer in silence for a few moments, Fame leaned forward, asking, “So...Courtney, was it?”

“Yes.”

“What do you think you’ll bring to this job that no one else can?”

“Well...I work very hard, and I’m very organized, and, uh...I’m really good at playing dumb.”

Fame tilted her head. Well, this was certainly an interesting answer.

“Go on.”

“Violet, she said that most of the job is protecting your privacy and being a...gatekeeper for people who want your attention. That you have to do it in a nice way.” Courtney cleared her throat, continuing nervously. “I think I would be good at pretending I don’t know things, like where you are when you’re in the middle of something that they’re not allowed to know about. Like, um, acting innocent or like...”

Fame continued to listen, eyes narrowed slightly, watching with amusement as Courtney cringed a bit.

“I’m sorry, that was very long-winded. I think I’d be good at making people feel good even when I’m saying no to them.”  

“Hm.” Fame lifted her resume, looking it over one more time. She was inexperienced. Very inexperienced. But there was something about her that Fame found charming, even shrewd.

Besides, if she took longer to train, well, then Violet would just have to stay longer. Which was no skin off Fame’s back.

“Thank you, Courtney.”

“Oh.” Courtney seemed to realize that this was her cue to leave, standing awkwardly. “Thank you so much for the opportunity. It was an honor to meet you,” she said, looking like she wanted to say more, but deciding against it. Another plus.

“That’s all.”

***

Violet had never been happier to see the end of the workweek than when the clock struck 7 on Friday.

Fame would leave soon and then Violet would finally have time to tie up the loose ends of the day, which had gone by like a whirlwind.

Violet kicked off her shoes to rest for just a moment. She was feeling utterly exhausted but victorious.

Courtney had been hired, the girl shrieking so loudly when Violet had called to tell her the news that she almost burst Violet’s eardrum.

Violet leaned back, looking up at the ceiling, her eyes slipped closed. It was just a moment, just for one single moment.

“Ahem.”

Violet heard the cleared throat, but she was so tired she could barely open her eyes. The front doors were closed, the alarm set up on most floors, so it had to be someone from their own company.

“What can I help you with?”

“Is Fame still here?” Violet didn’t recognize the voice, the tone of it clearly male, but it didn’t matter who it was. They weren’t going to be allowed in.

“She is, but Miss Fame is not taking anymore meetings for today,” Violet sat up straight, and opened her eyes, “so if you could plea-”

Violet froze in place, the man in front of her someone she knew very, very well.

“Mr. Bertschy!”

“Hello.” Patrick smiled.

“Oh god, I am so sorry.” Violet stood up straight, quickly smoothing down her dress. Of course it was Fame’s husband. Of course. He often worked just as late as Fame, and since his offices were also in the building, he had keys and codes for everything. “I’ll call her right away for you sir, I’m so sorr-”

“There will be no need for that, Violet.”

Violet stopped immediately as she heard Fame’s soft voice coming from her office, the woman herself walking through her door seconds later.

“Hello darling.” Fame smiled, a tenderness in her eyes as she walked over that Violet very rarely saw. Fame leaned forward, gently kissing her husband.

Violet looked away quickly, Fame always preferring to keep her privacy around employees, from what Violet knew.

She felt like an absolute idiot that she hadn’t made the connection that the visitor would be Fame’s husband, Violet herself making the very dinner reservation they were on their way to now.

“Are you ready to go, darling?”

Patrick nodded and Violet hurried over to get Fame’s coat and purse from the closet. She walked over, holding it up so Fame could slip into it, the scent of her perfume filling Violet’s nose as she did just that.

“I expect everything to be ready Monday for our new employee.” Fame took her purse. “It will be your responsibility to train her, so be prepared to work overtime.”

Violet nodded. “Yes Miss.”

“Good.” Fame took her husband's arm, the two of them walking to the door where Fame stopped.  “Oh, and Violet.” Fame looked over her shoulder. “Put on some shoes.”

Violet looked down, horror rushing over her when she realized that she had forgotten to put her shoes on.

“Yes Miss, it will happen Miss, right away.”

***

Katya would be hard-pressed to name a place in the world she loved more than their building’s rooftop. What had begun as a little community herb garden and grilling station had expanded over the years into a sanctuary. The rows of trees and potted plants lining the sides provided shade, their own little oasis in the urban jungle. They were chosen specifically to attract birds and butterflies as a tribute to Max, her very favorite birder and someone whom Katya relied on as a source of calm in a hectic world.

With permission from Fame, Katya had blown through the last of her own personal trust fund with a complete renovation to the barbecue area, turning it into a fully functional outdoor kitchen and lounge area, perfect for their weekend brunches.

Trixie had gently questioned her at the time; as someone who grew up with so little, he needed money in the bank or he’d get anxious. But what he might never understand was how much joy Katya had gotten creating a place to share with their friends and neighbors, how the time they spent together was more valuable to her than money had ever been.

Katya’s father was an ambassador, and after their family moved to Washington D.C. from Russia when she was just 3 years old, her life was full of stiff formal dinners, itchy fabrics that made it impossible to sit still, and so many rules that it made her head spin.

What followed were years of stuffy New England boarding schools and regimented summer camps. Every second of every day was planned for her: Latin and classical piano, cotillion and horseback riding lessons. Katya tried, she really did, to live up to all of the overwhelming expectations, but at some point along the line, the pressure was too much and she’d just caved in.

Katya shook her head, not wanting to think about the dark years, how hard it had been to get to this point. Instead, she inhaled deeply, looking across the patio at her wonderful boyfriend, doing his very best to squeeze oranges into juice for their brunch.

“Looking good, sugarbutt!” she called out. “Work those muscles.”

Trixie flexed for her, making her giggle delightedly before returning to the table, arranging the baskets of warm breads and pastries that she had been baking since 6 am. She unwrapped the fruit and veggie platter, artfully carved into elaborate rosettes and whimsical little animals, admiring a particularly cute little kiwi turtle, giving him a secret kiss just before the door swung open to reveal their first guest.

“Kimberly!” Katya skipped over to Kim, greeting her excitedly. Helping her with the mountain of French toast and platter of bacon that she’d brought to share.

As usual, her generosity was overwhelming to Katya, part of the reason that she was one of her favorite neighbors. The other part being her absolute artistry. Katya had been in awe of her makeup skills since the first time she’d seen her work, that Galactica show she’d attended with Trixie so many years ago, nervous to return to a place which had been the scene of one of her most dramatic failures in life.

She and Kim were soon chattering away as they set the table, discussing the latest collection at the Brooklyn museum, an anime-inspired artist who they both adored.

Max showed up next, with a beautiful garden veggie frittata and a carafe of hot tea.

“Thank you, Maxi, this looks delicious,” Katya said, giving him a tight squeeze.

Shangela arrived soon after, with a tray of Southern-style mac and cheese that caused both Kim and Trixie to burst into spontaneous applause, and a large bouquet of colorful flowers, presented to Katya with a wink. Shangela was someone that Katya thought she’d never win over - she’d created a major headache for her during her brief time at Galactica, and would certainly not have blamed her if she’d kept a distance.

But Shangela was a forgiving sort of person—after all, she worked daily with her ex-girlfriend—and had no problem at all giving Katya a chance on her own terms when she moved in. Soon, they’d established a mischievous sort of friendship, a playful flirtation and little inside jokes that Katya wouldn’t trade for anything.

Shangela was just explaining the intricacies of her mac recipe to Kim’s wide-eyed appreciation when the door opened again, revealing Violet in a characteristically chic set of work-out clothes—only instead of brunch offerings, she held a yoga mat in her hands, a surprised look on her face as she backed away.  

“Oh, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to interrupt…”

“Don’t be silly!” Katya called, beckoning her over. “So glad you’re here!”

“I’m, uh…” Violet glanced at the yoga mat in her hands, tugging at the bottom of her matte black tank top.

“Trixie…” Katya put her hands on her hips. “I told you to invite Violet to brunch. You didn’t forget, did you?”

Trixie set the pitcher of orange juice on the table, a sheepish look on his face.

“Oops.”

“Ha! Busted,” Shangela teased, punching Trixie on the arm.

“Hey, come on. It’s been a rough week,” Trixie defended himself.

“I know,” Katya said, putting her arms around him from behind. “Violet, please stay. I promise next time, you’ll get a formal invite, but trust me, we’re thrilled that you’re here.”

“Oh, I...don’t know if-”

“Hey hey hey, it’s my favorite people…” Pearl said, strolling up to the table. The last to show up, as usual, holding a partially empty bottle of vodka and container of strawberries.

“Aren’t those the strawberries that Katya bought?” Trixie asked, one eyebrow raised. He gestured to the platter, where a handful of said strawberries had been transformed into jaunty little penguins.

“Are they?” Pearl asked.

“And thank you for bringing them up to share with our friends!” Katya enthused, hugging her roommate tightly. “You’re so thoughtful.”

Pearl cast a glance over at Violet, lips turning up in a smirk as she assessed her skimpy attire.

“Nice shorts, pumpkin.”

“I-I didn’t know, I’m sorry, I-”

Katya watched as Violet attempted to stammer out a reply, immediately noticing how pink her cheeks got under Pearl’s bold gaze. Well, that would either be the cutest match in history, or end in total disaster. For Violet’s sake, Katya hoped for the former.  

“Don’t be sorry. You look cute.” Pearl gave her a sexy wink and sat down, pouring some vodka into her glass.

“So, are we brunching or what?”

The rest of the group slid into their seats, helping themselves to the bountiful spread.

Max raised a judgmental eye at Pearl as he asked, “I assume you’re the one responsible for the racket at 3 am?”

“She said she’d be quiet,” Pearl shrugged, barely containing a sly grin. “Not my fault she lied.”

“No it ain’t, baby,” Shangela laughed, giving the blonde a fist bump.

“Can we please say grace? I’d like to give thanks that I don’t share a wall with Pearl,” Kim chimed in.

“Awww, Kimmy. Don’t be jealous,” Pearl licked her lips, “I’ve always got time for you.”

Kim threw back her head in laughter, a piece of Katya’s blueberry muffins in her mouth as she said, “Never change, Pearl. The women of New York would really be losing out.”

Katya seemed to be the only one noticing Violet’s face getting redder and redder at all the talk of Pearl’s sex life, as tame as the discussion was. Her fingers were twisted into the hem of her top, and seemed to be pulling at a loose thread.

All too familiar with the telltale signs of anxiety, Katya put a reassuring hand on her back and began to fill her plate. Something told her that Violet wasn’t big on rich, indulgent foods, so she began with a slice of fresh whole-grain bread and then some of her favorite little fruit creatures: a few of the penguin strawberries, of course, a kiwi turtle, and a little tangerine bear. She lined them up on Violet’s plate like she was arranging toys for a child, feeling unusually protective of this strange and beautiful new friend.

It took Violet a few moments to tear her eyes away from the very conversation making her so uncomfortable. She saw Katya’s handiwork and then glanced up at her, the two of them sharing a secret smile of camaraderie before Katya placed one last offering on her plate: an elaborate carrot rose.

Violet giggled, mouthing ‘Thanks,’ and Katya winked, leaning back happily to bask in the warm sunshine. Yes, she’d fit in just fine.

#rpdr fanfiction #thedane #veronica #galactica #lesbian au #fashion au #pearlet #trixya #violet chachki #pearl liaison #courtney act #miss fame #katya zamolodchikova #trixie mattel #kim chi #shangela laquifa wadley #max malanaphy

[chelseareferenced]

How Does A Moment Last Forever (Seteth x Hilda)

This whole thing happened for 2 reasons. 1 being there is barely anything for these two and it's such a good ship just go watch their supports and 2 being the fact that Seteth and Hilda where two of my strongest units when it came to the battle against Nemesis. Speaking of which there are spoilers for the Golden Deer Route

Hilda was sitting alone in the library. Tomorrow the army would march off for one last battle. She had thought after they had taken down those who slither in the dark that Fodlan’s new dawn would finally begin. She didn’t blame Claude or the Professor or even Rhea. No one could have predicted that Nemesis would rise and threaten Fodlan.

 

She yawned but kept reading through every book that contained information about crests or the saints or Nemesis. Sure most of it had been fabricated by Rhea, Seteth and Flayn Or should she call them Seiros, Cichol and Cethleann? Goddess above this was bugging her more  than possible death but maybe one of the lies would help tomorrow. Although the more she thought about them they weren’t lies to hurt. Rhea or Seiros or whatever had come up with it to protect Fodlan.

 

“-resting…”

A voice pulled her out of the mess that was her thoughts and she looked up. Seteth or Cichol or whatever was holding a candle and looking at her. The candlelight seemed to make him look more exhausted than normal. It was something she had noticed when she was illustrating his stories. He worked so hard and very rarely rested. Sometimes she worried he was going to crack from all the work he did.

The candlelight also made him more handsome… Hilda stop! It wasn’t right when you were a student and he probably doesn’t feel the same way! The man is a literal saint for crying out loud and you are just a silly girl!

“Hilda are you even listening to me?”

She blinked a few times and then realised she had been staring. “H-huh? Yes!”

“Then what did i say?”

 

Her face heating up gave Seteth the answer he needed. “I said you should be resting.”

Hilda laughed a bit “Funny I’m pretty sure everyone has been telling you that for years”

“Yes but i am used to it. You need to rest. Tomorrow will not be easy and i-” he coughed and she could have sworn him blush but maybe it was the candle “we cannot have you fall to-”

“You can’t fall either!”

“You are an heir to House Goneril-”

“Oh psshh Holst isn’t likely going to kick the bucket anytime soon. I’m just Hilda, you’re the literal saint here Seteth or Cichol or whatever i call you now!” Seteth was taken aback by the sudden emotion in her voice. He knew this was going to come up with someone at some point after Rhea had explained the truth but he hadn’t expected it from Hilda “Either you start taking your own advice and value your health or just be quiet!” her voice wavered and she felt tears threatening to fall. And Seteth noticed this, he put the candle down and sat next to her.

 

“Hilda? Hilda what’s wrong…”

“I’m scared ok! We’re all die tomorrow and i have so much i want to do!”

Seteth pulled her into a gentle hug, and that was when Hilda broke. She cried into Seteth’s shoulder. “......Seteth.”

“Huh?”

“Please continue to call me Seteth. And you’re not going to die tomorrow Hilda.” He cupped her face and made sure she was looking into his eyes. “I will be the first one to admit that Nemesis is unlike any foe you have faced in the past, but i would rather die than see you die Hilda. You have become incredibly important to me… i guess that is why i gave you that prayer ring before the professor vanished”

Hilda fiddled with said ring. Seteth had handed it to her as  they were defending Garreg Mach, saying how he thought she could make use of it. The ring had become her luckiest charm over the years. She wore it to every battle.

 

“Seteth… you have to promise to stay alive as well, you’re important to me as well. During those 5 years i always asked Holst if he had any news about you and Flayn, mostly you. I knew that if you were still alive that everything would be ok. And” she took a deep breath “and if you say everything will be ok then i guess i’ll  have to believe you”

 

Seteth smiled before looking over the stakes of books “might i ask about…” he gestured and Hilda smiled a bit. “I mean i now know most of the stories didn’t happen the way they’re told but i thought maybe there was something that could be useful. I just want to be able to help, haven’t  exactly been useful in the brain department”

“Don’t say that about yourself. It was your idea to disguise ourselves as Adrestian soldiers to sneak into Fort Merceus after all, and you helped the Professor prepare themselves for the meeting with all the Alliance Lords. You are smart Hilda, you’re just a different kind of smart”

Hilda felt her cheeks heat up listening to Seteth say those things about herself. Maybe just maybe....

“Hey Seteth can i tell you something?”

He looked confused but nodded Hilda took a deep breath.

“Well… i know you are older than me, well much much older than me and you have a daughter and stuff but i have wanted to say this for years but it kinda didn’t feel ok because i was a student and i guess you were a teacher but i have feelings for you Seteth. That’s part of the reason i’ve kept the prayer ring. It might have only been a gift but to me it felt special, it made me feel safe and i’ve been meaning to say how i feel but i kept putting it off saying next time but, despite trusting you when you say that we’re gonna be ok but there might not be a next time so i have to say it now Seteth. I am in love with you.” She was quiet for a few seconds before hiding her face in her hands.

 

Seteth was quiet but moved her hands awa, when he finally spoke his voice was low, gentle, soothing and it put Hilda at ease. “Oh Hilda…” he ran his fingers through her long pink hair “I… i have feelings for you as well, at first you infuriated me. You always managed to wriggle your way out of your responsibilities and seemed to complete avoid the points i was making, but after seeing you interact with Flayn and just how kind you were to the people to the monastery… you always repaid the favours people did for you and then you helped me with my stories and i actually spent time with you, you became dear to me Hilda, you have a way to interact with everyone you meet, and i couldn’t help but fall for you as well. I am in love with you Hilda…” He gently placed his forehead against hers and looked deep into her eyes.

 

Hilda smiled and cried again, but this time the tears weren’t out of fear for the dawn would bring, they were tears of joy. Seteth wiped her tears away and held her face in his hands. They were warm and somehow both rough and soft at the same time, all that mattered right now to both of them was this moment. Here in the library, the only light being the candles casting both of them in their warm soft glow. “I love you dear Hilda… now until the end, no matter when that will be.”

“I love you too Seteth, i’m so happy i could finally tell you… we’re going to make it to the day after tomorrow aren’t we?”

“No matter what happens we’ll be together my dear…”

 

She nodded and Seteth finally closed the distance between them and kissed her. It was just as soft and gentle as when he held her face or when he spoke, her eyes fluttered closed and she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him back. Finally after so many years of longing and wishing and praying, her heart's one desire had finally come true. Seteth was hers and she was his.

Here in this moment… they would always have this moment. Perhaps if they fell the goddess would be kind to her, shape her own little personal heaven as this moment… but then again if they didn’t fall, they would have plenty more moments like this, mayhaps even more beautiful than this… as Claude said, the world was so much bigger than just Fodlan. And if this moment in Fodlan was beautiful, she couldn’t help but wonder if the moments when there was more than just Fodlan would be more beautiful.

 

Seteth finally pulled away and smiled at her “You really need to rest though…”

She rolled her eyes but smiled. “I will rest if you stay and rest as well Seteth” he sighed but nodded. There was no way he was getting out of going through the library one last time. He stood up and walked towards his office, holding Hilda’s smaller hand.

 

And for the first time in years, so many years, Seteth slept. He slept a peaceful sleep and dreamed a peaceful dream. Hilda was safely curled up his arms and there was not a droplet of fear in his body. He dreamed.

 

He dreamed of a new dawn.

A new dawn with Hilda there by his side.

He knew he would outlive the young woman in arms. But he would not change a moment of this. He had locked his heart away after he lost his wife all those centuries ago. And Hilda had innocently wormed her way into that locked away heart.

 

He would survive tomorrow. And not just for his daughter anymore.

He would survive to see the smile on both Flayn and Hilda’s face when they won.

His love for Hilda would never die. He would hold her in his heart until he finally passed on from this would.

 

Love would pull them both through the impossible dawn.

#chelseareferenced #fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #golden deer #verdant wind #seteth #hilda valentine goneril #seteth x hilda #fe seteth #fe hilda #golden deer spoilers #verdant wind spoilers

[justimajin]

Catching a Case of the Doctor Blues ⌠Part 9⌡

⇢ Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

⇢ Genre: Fluff, Comedy, Angst

↳ (3.6k) Doctor/Surgeon AU, Enemies to Lovers AU

⇢ Summary: When asked about Dr. Kim, a string of beautifully aligned words are ready spew from your lips. You could possibly go on and on about how his wonderful stubbornness wasn’t similar to talking to a brick wall, or how his observation skills were especially great in preparing your blood vessels for a drastic rupture or even how one gracious stare of his nearly had you on the verge of ripping your essential documents in half. But it seems that, perhaps, there was a lot more to Dr. Kim then what meets the eye…

⇢ Warnings: graphical descriptions of surgery

⇢ Moodboard Prologue Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

⇢ Next Update: Tuesday, May 21

It’s a simple, quiet evening in the corners of the hospital; nurses are attending to patients, doctors are doing their regular check-ups and interns are keenly observing right by their side.

The comfortable atmosphere sits peacefully in the center of your office, your gaze dancing over a flood of papers as you take a swipe of your pen and swirl it around as an everlasting stamp. The man situated afar from you in the same room is also doing the same task, occasionally bending down to place to slurp on some cooked ramen he so conveniently decided to make.

“How did you even…?” You are unsure about how to phrase the question when your gaze falls on the cooked noodles, especially when he glances up at you with cheeks filled with ramen.

He brings up the bowl closer to you but you shake your head, “Yeah, no thanks.”

“We’ve been working for hours, I got hungry!” Jin replies after swallowing down the large volume of noodles. You roll your eyes, a light smile on your lips when he stretches his legs out.

“Can we take a break?” He whines, “I’m exhausted.”

With a loud sigh, you agree, “Sure. My legs are starting to give out too.”

Both of you get up with longer drawn out stretches, attempting to get some circulation flowing into your veins once again. Stepping outside, the hospital echoes with the faint silence when the dark sky is illuminated through the many windows.

“It’s a little spooky.” Jin comments, closing the door after you and you nod. Working late hours at the hospital wasn’t a very rare event, but the sudden hush for patient sleep was nerve-wracking to be in.

“We can walk around a bit and then come back.” You glance at your watch, calculating that it would take approximately one more hour to finish the paper work with two individuals working at the same time, then the two of you could be pleasantly on your way back home.

Walking around the hallways, the steps you take are silent, with only whispers being exchanged, “Is anyone still here?” Jin asks.

“Should be. Although, I think Jimin went home early today and Jungkook went with him.”

“Those two are awfully close.” Jin chuckles, raising a hand to subtly cover his mouth from the abrupt sound.

“They’re almost like brothers at this point.”

“Brothers? Shouldn’t it be father and son?” A soft laugh escapes you at that.

“I think you and Jungkook are more like father and son.”

Jin looks at you appalled, “Me? Raising that kid? As if!” You hurriedly shush him down when his voice increases in volume and he quickly pipes down.

“Oh come on, Jungkook probably looks up to you.”

“Why wouldn’t he? I’m a fantastic role model.”

Sarcasm drips into your voice. “With an inflated ego? Yep.”

“When you have a face like this, how can you not idealize it?” He dramatically gestures to himself and you try to contain your own laughter from the huge exhibition.

However, before you’re able to retort back with an equally ridiculous comment, heavy pounding against the floor infiltrates your ears.

“There you are!” Namjoon’s wide eyes land straight on you, “I need you to come with me.”

He looks frazzled, eyes scanning around and white coat barely staying on his shoulders. You silently nod as Namjoon begins abruptly walking with this only being your simple cue to follow. It dawns on you that leaving would probably leave Jin to do all the work on his own, but he sends you a reassuring gaze when Namjoon increases his strides, almost as if he was running to his destination.

“Namjoon, what is it?” You ask, jogging lightly to keep up with him.

“An emergency.” He states, “You’re probably acquainted with Jung Hoseok?” He swiftly glances at you and your eyes widen.

“I am.” Beginning to pick up on your own pace greatly to walk on pare with him, tension pools in the pit of your stomach from the sole mention of his name.

Namjoon eventually leads you into the side corridors of the operating room, which was currently a room used for creating and analyzing X-rays. There are fine prints of some hanging on the walls once you enter, but your breath hitches when your eyes run over the large volume of results.

“Diagnosis of pneumonia. Except it’s a lot worse than you would think.”

You nod, baffled when you see the obstruct clouds of white engulfed inside Hoseok’s lungs – an image that was typical for anyone that contracted a mild case of pneumonia. It doesn’t seem to show anything out of the plain ordinary and simply glancing over it makes you still agree it that it only appeared to be a case of pneumonia.

“He has pneumonia, I don’t see-“ Suddenly your eyes flicker over to the image situated on the right side of the X-ray. A CT Scan.

A scan that was always in depth with its findings.

You cautiously walk forward to the image and sharply narrow your orbs, before you finally catch on.

“Pneumothorax.” You whisper, eyes scanning thoroughly all over the abnormal shape the lung was contorted in and uneasiness flooding through every fiber of you when it was such a clear indication of critical suffocation.

Namjoon hums, “Precisely. A collapsed lung,” He pauses, walking to stand beside you, “that’s almost to the stage of shutting down. Potentially for good.”

You turn to him petrified and Namjoon already notices the troubled glint in your eyes, “We need to operate on him by tonight. Dr. Kim stayed back for work and has agreed to assist with the operation, so I need both of you to get prepared.”

You nod, turning to leave but you suddenly halt in your steps.

“Can I have five minutes?”

You rapidly pace through the empty hallway when the tension flashes inside your mind, only one thought being stuck to it. It leaves your nerves in complete shambles and the clock ticks down in slow, frightening intervals.

The office door sparks into your view and you lunged for the knob, attempting to twist but the door doesn’t budge. A frown sets on your lips, but when you inch closer to plant your ear on the door, the softest of sobs speaks immediately to you.

You remove your ear and opt out to gently knock on the door. Instantly a heavy thud resonates on the other side, followed by more rummaging that takes a couple of seconds.

The door flings open and you’re welcomed to a Min Yoongi with pink filled eyes lined with cracks of red.

“D-Did you want something?” He croaks out, sniffling as he speaks.

“Are you okay?” The only thought had run through your mind when Namjoon had explained the situation to you was him. Maybe he had assumed that it wasn’t apparent to anyone else, but you could easily make out the warm exchanges him and Hoseok had – from the way Hoseok spoke so fondly about him and the way Yoongi would subtly linger around his side longer than he was required.

But the news itself was petrifying, leaving you unsure how he was dealing with the knowledge that Hoseok’s life had been dangling right in front of him and that the results of tonight’s operation would ultimately determine his undecided fate.

He sniffles again, this time reaching to dab his eyes with his white sleeve when they unconsciously re-surface drops of water, “I-I don’t know, I knew something was wrong and I just hate that we only found out now.”

He takes a sharp breath, attempting but failing to compose himself, “And by tomorrow…”

“We’ll try Yoongi,” He looks up to meet your fixed gaze, “We’ll save him.”

Taking a long drawn out breath, he nods, “I’m trusting you on this.”

“I’ll try my best.” You whisper, before he starts to usher you away.

“You need to get going. They’ll start preparations soon.” You take a quick glance at the clock and you firmly nod before hurriedly rushing away.

High amounts of concern cloud your mind immensely and the words Yoongi had left with you causes you to slow down, gripping down onto every single syllable.

“Y/N.”

You stop midway, about to head towards the operation room to turning around in Yoongi’s direction. The same heart-wrenching grief remains in Yoongi’s eyes, however the final words he leaves you with makes you feel like his entire world was resting on your shoulders.

“Please make sure he can breathe again.”

You deeply exhale, heading out with now heavy blue covered scrubs adorned instead of the light white coat. Walking towards the sterilization room, Yoongi’s words repeat in your mind when you recall the amount of times you had passed by Hoseok; suffering and struggling.

It was horrible, to even imagine that someone as wonderful and cheerful as Hoseok was dealing with being slowly suffocated as he spent his days here, to the point where his lungs were prepared to give it all up.

But it’s even more horrible when you have to come down to the conclusion that the only sole people who can stop Hoseok’s suffering were you, Namjoon and-

“Dr. L/N?” He questions, standing behind you when his voice again pulls you out of your thoughts and you want to inwardly groan.

“What?” You respond. Having a mind already consumed with impending pressurizing thoughts doesn’t quite leave you with any free space to handle Dr. Kim at the moment.

“Is…” He trails off, but you raise an eyebrow at him when he pauses. Dr. Kim would always speak to you sternly and directly, having his thoughts collected before trying to talk to you. “Is Dr. Min alright?”

If you were confused before, you’re completely blown away now. You were expecting a lot of things – jabs at your association with Hoseok, questioning if you were sufficient enough for the surgery, nit picking at any instance to rile up a distasteful reaction out of you.

Dr. Kim actually questioning about Yoongi’s wellbeing was far from the list, actually not existing on it at all.

“U-Uh…” You’re at a loss of words, not knowing how to retort, “He’s not doing so well…”

You’re not too sure if you should elaborate more to him, but Dr. Kim’s silently nods, “I see…”

Walking forward, you begin to sterilize your hands in the midst of blinking your eyes a couple of times. The whole interaction throws you off, being so well used to Dr. Kim’s rather annoying pieces of conversation that an automatic repulsive answer was always prepared for you. You didn’t think much about it, Dr. Kim set your nerves on fire and lets the rage pool inside, but these crucial reactions weren’t occurring.

Oddly enough, the change of conversation briefly diminishes the worrisome thoughts brewing inside your mind for the soon conflicting operation. 

Walking into the operating room isn’t the same now; heavy steps are pounding against the tiled floor, fidgeting hands are kept on bay and your heart is accelerating at a tenfold speed. The same team of individuals surround you as before – nurses in blue ready to assist and the two necessary members situated in front of you.

The atmosphere is coated with the same twisted doubt just like the last surgery you had performed and it causes you to let out a shaky breath. For a brief moment, you try to dismiss all those past lingering thoughts, attempting to get your mind to narrow back in at the task at hand.

However, the white sheets are pulled upward and the moment your eyes land on Hoseok’s delicate features, that entire mentality is thrown out the window.

He’s incredibly pale, looking considerably worse than when you had last seen him. It irks you so much, churning your insides when you recall his sunny disposition and hopeful aura, now being reduced to a frail patient whose life rested in your hands.

With a deep sigh, Namjoon begins the procedure by carefully navigating around the space of Hoseok’s face so he can insert in a tube leading into the lungs. The process thankfully will be less difficult than the previous pancreatomy you had to go through and didn’t require the grueling steps of attempting to remove an entire cancerous organ.

The first step was simple – the lungs needed to be drained of the fluid that accumulated in them in order to relieve the persistent symptoms of pneumonia. Additionally, it gives you the perfect opportunity to repair the remainder issue of his collapsed lung, a part of the surgery that was going to be exceeding hard to maneuver around without draining the built-up liquid.

Once Namjoon finishes attaching the scope to his nose and mouth, a nurse enters the room with a blank monitor and Dr. Kim moves forward to assist her with setting up the machine. It instantly clicks on and displays a clear image of the chaos ensuring inside Hoseok lungs.

Namjoon cautiously moves the scope around, examining the precise location for the largest volume of the liquid. In the midst of this, you keep a sharp eye on the second monitor across from him which showcases Hoseok’s vital signs, fully being aware that it would disastrous for complications during the examination process.

The image drifts back and forth several times before a proper picture of the inside of lungs being displayed and revealing the location of drainage. Namjoon nods as confirmation before both you and Dr. Kim moves swiftly to insert the tubes that will remove the unwanted liquid into the small spot Namjoon had inserted the scope in.

The liquid initially pipes slowly, small bubbles forming inside the tube, but it soon picks up and an abundant amount flows through. Namjoon’s eyes remain glued to the screen, ensuring that the correct fluid was being picked up and that no further complications were occurring because of your actions.

You glance over at the vitals monitor, a sigh of relief escaping through when Hoseok is considerably remaining stable through the drainage.

Namjoon motions you to stop, assessing that the correct amount had been taken out in which the two of you move to remove the tubes while Namjoon keeps the scope inside. After the tubes had been taken out, Namjoon hums in content when the pipes on the monitor have substantially opened up and the hollow tube is not longer filled with a cloudy white mixture.

However, this was the simple part.

You had just performed the basic procedure doctors would do if a patient had a severe case of pneumonia and instantly needed a method of relief if antibiotics were proving to be ineffective. It wasn’t a terrifying operation per say because of how often it would need to be used.

The additional complication Hoseok had however, was the game changer.

His collapsed lung. Essentially a painful pressure of air lodged inside his chest cavity that was causing his lungs to shrink into an abnormal, curvaceous shape. It was the source of all his pain and a small, brief wrong move could cut off his air supply instantly, rendering him no oxygen.

The shiny prick of a needle is displayed through Namjoon’s outstretched hands and its sole appearance tugs your lips downward. Due to the very precise foundation of the surgery, it was utterly necessary to drill into your skull of how careful you had to be doing this.

Taking a gulp, you take the needle from him and look down at the boy currently lying on the stretcher in front of you. You take the syringe component and attach it onto the needle, requiring a pump to decrease the amount of air pressure built inside his lungs.

You cautiously insert the needle into his skin and let it penetrate through into his chest cavity. Slowly inching forward, you flinch when a large amount of air pushes against the needle and immediately flows into the syringe. It arises from the air being trapped inside his lungs for so long and you ensure that the amount isn’t too overwhelming to the point where you puncture into his airflow.

Draining the air comes smoothly and your eyes are fixated onto the spot that you had penetrated through to make sure that no tears are made in the flesh because of the needle.

But this is when his vitals start to respond to you.

You don’t move your gaze when the beep sounds through the room, the small siren alerting you of the treacherous field you were starting to trespass into.

“Blood pressure is decreasing.” Namjoon states, keeping an eye on the monitor as you perform your part.

You nod, blood pressure decreasing was not surprising because you were directly interfering with his air flow which was important for supplying the blood stream with oxyg-

“Heart rate is also decreasing.” Dr. Kim mutters in a tone lined with warning and it causes your thought process to stagger just like the lines on the monitor.

Heart rate…?

Your eyes quickly flicker around, examining his torso when the dark blue veins begin to peep out of his lightly tinted skin.

Low oxygen was interfering with the blood stream. Pressure had decreased, which was normal because of you interfering, but heart rate decreased and his veins were changing color.

He wasn’t getting enough oxygen. You were starting to cut off his air supply.

Panic floods through you when you focus begins to dwindle on the needle placed inside of him and how you were so close to removing all of the air from his lungs. You had to continue on to finish the operation, but he wasn’t being able to breathe at the momen-

A hand reaches out to slide against yours, slowly tugging the needle outwards and you receive an alarming look on your features from the gesture.

Dr. Kim holds the needle with you and his gaze is completely trained onto it, before his eyes briefly flicker onto your own.

“We have to continue with cutting off his air supply but reduce the amount being taken out. We can’t stop the procedure but we can lower the chances of suffocating him.” He gently states, his voice morphing in such a way where he sounded like he was trying to reassure.

You let it pass, nodding when you focus back onto Hoseok who needed all of your attention. Namjoon seems to be in agreement with Dr. Kim when he watches the monitor that continues to violently stray low with the impending decision.

The sirens keep blaring out and you can’t get a proper control on how you keep flinching when every single one rings, knowing that what you were doing was going to be unlikely to work. It becomes even worse when the tremor in your hands appears once again and despite your best efforts, your hands continue to tremble.

A soft amount of pressure is applied to your hands and you widen them, eyes darting around to wonder if the needle was still situated in the same position. It was; however, Dr. Kim’s blue latex hand covers yours completely and you come to the discovery that in the midst of trying to help you, he was actually holding your hand.

Abruptly, you flicker your eyes up at him and are taken aback when you realize his gaze was on you, observing any sort of reaction emitting out as you were internally battling with the situation.

You quickly lower your gaze, having a million questions racing in your mind but attempting to forget them in order to focus. It doesn’t help when you have to acknowledge that any times your hands give out, a slight tremble, a subtle shake, he applies more pressure onto them.

You try to ignore the comforting, warm vibe they emit.

Suddenly, the monitor beeps and both of you glance at it simultaneously.

The air pressure in Hoseok’s lungs had decreased substantially, returning to the normal level.

The huge amount of relief graciously flows in you when you let out a low exhale, returning the smile Namjoon gives when he comes over to assist you in removing the needle and patching up the spot that had been penetrated.

The rest of the operation involves ensuring that everything had been sterilized and that Hoseok’s vitals were still in the safe zone. Once those two tasks had been check-marked, Namjoon utters the words that have a large tired smile lining your lips when the whole entire operation room brims with the satisfaction.

“Surgery successful.”

You close your eyes when the room fills with cheers, many of the nurses patting you on the back when Namjoon shoots you a dimpled smile as well. When you reach out to thank all of them for the considerate amount of help they had done for you, a faint whisper resonates near your ear.

“Nicely done Dr. L/N.” The deep sound of the owner’s voice disappears when Dr. Kim walks in front of you to leave, sending you a small satisfied glance as he walks by.

Although complimented, you tilt your head at the display. A genuine praise, not paired with a smirk, not added with a small triumphing pose in front of you as a way to claim his victory.

Your eyes instantly land onto your hands, your mind flickering when even you don’t notice the slight pink tinting on your own cheeks from the memory.

#taehyung fanfic #taehyung fluff #taehyung doctor au #taehyung e2l au #bts taehyung fanfic #taehyung angst #kim taehyung fanfic #kim taehyung #bts v fanfic #bts v fluff #bts v angst #bts taehyung doctor au #bts taehyung enemies to lovers au #taehyung childhood friends au #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts angst #bts imagines #bts scenarios

[seungcheolsbodyharness]

heart shaped: IV

wc: 6.3k

warnings: mild violence

summary: you and jihoon make your way to soyoung’s NYE party. everything is going just fine, until a pair of someones make a surprise, unwanted appearance.

genre: fake dating, angst

part 1 || part 2 || part 3 || part 4 || part 5 || finale (in progress)

nine o’clock comes quicker than you anticipated. 

you and jihoon had spent the last few hours huddled together in his studio while jihoon showed you how he did his job - producing, songwriting, a little bit of everything. 

the smile on his face as he explained everything had been electric, drawing you in with every word and gesture. you tried your hardest to follow along, but jihoon spoke quickly when excited. it was obvious how much he loved his work. 

nine o’clock rolls around with a timely text from soyoung, confirming your attendance since no one had heard from you or jihoon since lunchtime. you text her back to soothe her worry and apologize, saying that you and jihoon had been busy and you’d see her soon. 

“guess we should get going.” you stand and stretch, muscles stiff from sitting too long. jihoon does the same, letting out a content little sigh. “do you normally sit for that long? it can’t be good for your back.”

he hums, rolling his shoulders. “i try not to, but…i have a tendency to get sucked into my work. i see a chiropractor pretty regularly, and i uh…stretch and go for a walk for food, usually.” he twists to one side and you hear a small ‘pop’ and does the same in the other direction. he gathers his things and you yours, and then he leads you out of the studio and back down the hallway. 

“besides, seungcheol always comes down from upstairs and makes me get up and walk around with him so he can talk stuff out.” jihoon nods to the guard at the desk - dongsoo has left for the night, and the guard here looks much less friendly. but perhaps he’s just mad about working on new years eve. 

“so you and seungcheol are close?” you ask as you enter the elevator. jihoon’s face pinches up like he’s thinking too hard, and you can’t help but laugh. “i just didn’t get to meet many of your friends at the carnival. and i already knew woomin, obviously.”

“seungcheol isn’t a baseball friend. actually, of my like…friends that i see regularly, none of them play baseball with me. which is probably for the best.” he steps out of the elevator when you come to a halt in the garage and leads the way towards the car. “i’ve known him a long, long time though. since high school. we were in choir together, actually.” without hesitating, jihoon opens your door before walking around the front of the car to the driver’s side. 

you hop in and close the door as he does the same, starting the car. “so he works here with you? what does he do?”

“he’s a personal trainer for the idols and actors in the company.” he pulls the car out onto the street, joining the evening traffic. soyoung lives not too far from the city center, so even with traffic you’ve arrived pretty quick. 

before you can go in, though, jihoon says, “uhhh,” which catches your attention, so you look at him expectantly. “so, i don’t really drink, so if you want to get like, you know, shit-faced, i’ll make sure you get home safe.”

your eyes go wide, thinking for a moment maybe he’s giving it up for your sake. “are you sure? i can contain myself.”

he waves you off, though. “i really, genuinely don’t drink that much so holding off isn’t a huge deal.” he shrugs and looks away, flicking an invisible piece of dust from the steering wheel. “and i think that, yknow, as your ‘boyfriend’, i should make sure that you’re safe.” he laughs nervously. “soyoung will kill me if i let anything bad happen to you.”

your face softens and you pat his arm gently. “yeah, i guess you’re right. sounds good. i’ll try to keep myself under control anyway.”

jihoon nods and gets out of the car, hustling around to your side to open your door. you step out and onto the slick ground, arm instinctively reaching for jihoon’s when your feet slide underneath you. he wraps an arm around your waist to steady you, and you blush softly, thanking him.

“don’t worry about it.” he replies. once you’re steady, he releases you and takes your hand in his own, the two of you walking side by side towards soyoung’s door.

jihoon doesn’t bother to knock, twisting the doorknob and walking straight inside instead. you follow him, announcing loudly to soyoung that you’d arrived. her head peeks out from the wall separating the kitchen from the living room and she smiles at the two of you, face already a little pink.

“hey lovebirds.” she coos as the two of you leave your coats and shoes at the door. “have a nice day together~?“ 

"yeah, nosy, we did.” you glance sidelong at jihoon and smile softly, which he returns. you lead the way to the living room- hands now rejoined having shed your layers - where a number of people have already gathered, drinks in hand. most of them you recognize, some of them you don’t, but jihoon seems to be familiar with the faces you are not, so you assume you’ll get to know them eventually. 

you and jihoon snag a spot on the giant beanbag soyoung has pulled out from the computer room, ending up somewhat snuggled together - jihoon leans back against the wall, one leg pulled up beneath him, one arm wrapped around your back and his hand nestled gently on your waist. the two of you manage to seamlessly join the conversation, and being with jihoon like this feels comfortable. feels easy, even pressed up together like you are. once again, you think about how glad you are the two of you came together like this, how you seemed to find each other right when you really, really needed it. if you had to do something like this with anyone, it feels right that it’s jihoon. 

you’re pulled from your thoughts when jihoon leans in towards you, saying, “hey, do you want something to drink? i’m gonna get a coke." 

you nod, asking him for a cup of whatever concoction soyoung has brewed up, and he nods back as he pulls himself up off the beanbag to make his way into the kitchen. more people pour in through the door while he’s gone, and you follow along with the story soonyoung - a childhood friend of woomin and jihoon’s who you’ve met before - is telling about finding his boyfriend face down in a pile of snow first thing that morning, laughing when soonyoung reveals that he’d gone out there, drunk, crying about frosty the snowman. jihoon comes back to you, balancing your drink, his drink, and a plate of snacks that he sets down on the beanbag between you after handing you your drink. 

sometime later, after nearly everyone has arrived, someone (likely seungcheol, who you’ve been properly introduced to now) suggests playing a drinking game. you’re excited to play, actually, considering your confidence in your ability to follow things along even intoxicated. jihoon also seems excited, and when you question his thrill he tells you it’s always fun to watch people get really shitfaced and make fools of themselves. 

"you won’t let me make a fool of myself, will you baby?” you ask, pouting up at him. he flushes and laughs, running a hand over the back of his neck. 

“no, baby, of course i won’t.” he says softly, sipping at his drink. 

“are you going to play too?” you ask. he raises his eyebrows, shrugs. 

“i mean, i’m not drinking, so…no?” you pout at him, more dramatically, and he turns away from you. “what? don’t give me that face.”

“you can play with your soda.” you whine. “i want you to play, hoonie. please?”

“yeah, hoonie.” comes a chorus of voices. jihoon turns a glare at seungcheol, soonyoung, and hoseok in turn, who are all laughing together at the kitchen counter. “play with us!” seungcheol whines, and jihoon’s jaw tenses. you reach out to him, about to tell him not to worry about it when he sighs. 

“fine.” he looks back at you, pointedly ignoring the cheers coming from his friends. “i’ll play along for you, baby.”

you smile at him, bright, grabbing his arm and squeezing. “good!!! it’s going to be fun, just you wait.”

the game, it turns out, is truth or dare. there is a mixed chorus of groans and cheers, but you all settle into a circle as best as you can in the living room, everyone with either a fresh drink or one at the ready. it is quickly decided that the game will be played with an app from soyoung’s phone - spinning a bottle seems almost too juvenile. 

the first few rounds pass quickly - you and jihoon both manage to escape the randomizer’s grasp while some others aren’t so lucky. sohee - seungcheol’s girlfriend - has somehow managed to be picked three times, two of which she’d chosen to drink instead of answering the “truth”s that she’d been asked. 

it’s on the seventh - maybe eighth? - go-round that soyoung laughs heartily and calls out your name. your eyes go wide, and you nod, and turn slowly to face soonyoung, whose smile is too wide for your liking. 

“truth or dare?” he asks, eyes slowly flitting between you and jihoon.

“truth.” you respond quickly, clutching nervously to the rim of your cup. you can feel jihoon’s hand at your back, thumb rubbing idly back and forth. 

“what is something about jihoon that you like better than your ex?” 

jihoon’s hand freezes on your back and soyoung squawks something about how “that’s not cool, soonie,” but you respond before anyone can kick up too much of a fuss.

“he doesn’t make me second-guess how he feels about me. with my ex i was always…yeah. i know where jihoon and i stand.” you take a sip of your drink to have something to do, but you feel good about your answer. soonyoung seems pleased as well, and the game continues. jihoon’s hand resumes its idle motion at your back. 

he takes a sip from his drink as he watches the game, staying mostly quiet except to quip or laugh at something someone else says. every now and then he leans over to check in on you, whispering “doin’ okay?” and waiting patiently for you to nod. 

the game continues and as people drink more, the dares and the questions grow more ridiculous and scandalous. seungcheol gets dared to stand outside in just his shirt and underwear for a full minute, soyoung confesses that before meeting woomin she had never thought she’d settle down and love one person forever. you laugh when she says that, because you know for a fact that it’s true. before woomin, soyoung had insisted she would never be tied down, no man would ever come between her and her goals. hoseok gets dared to call the person he wants to sleep with the most, and with a chorus of hollering in the background, he steps into the kitchen to make the call. 

he steps back out a few minutes later, cheeks tinged pink from more than just alcohol and a big grin on his face. 

“i’ll see you guys later.” he says, bringing the bottles and cups he’d used into the kitchen. “i have someone special waiting for me.”

jeers follow him to the door, shouts of “use protection!” and “get it!” among other things until the front door closes behind him. 

the group erupts into gossip, people wondering who he could have called, shouting out names of possibilities. 

jihoon stands and goes into the kitchen for a new drink and brings one back for you as well, setting it down next to his feet for whenever you were ready for it. he leans over close to you, turning his face away from the rest of the group to whisper, “they’re all wrong. he met someone at the gym last week that he’s been losing it over ever since. he’s gonna be embarrassed by this story later, that he only got the courage to call on a drunk dare.” he pulls back and laughs under his breath, and you giggle too. “it’s a secret for some reason though, so don’t tell anyone.”

you nod, solemn, and jihoon laughs again. 

everyone settles down and soyoung starts the game back up.

the thing with drinking games is that no one ever drinks only when their turn comes - people sip absentmindedly from the drinks in their hands, getting drunker along with everyone else, and because of that everyone in the room - save for jihoon - was already well on the way to being smashed. 

11:30 

the game breaks a couple more times, and when it comes back together now, soonyoung’s face is pinched and geared towards jihoon, eyes full of suspicion. 

“how come - hic - this whole time, hoon hasn’t - hic - gone yet? m’gon ask somethin’ real good.”

soyoung squints and scrolls through the app on her phone, mouth drawing into a tiny ‘o’. “i forgot!!!!” she cries. “i didn’ put him on the - the list.”

around you, everyone groans and complains and jihoon tenses beside you. slowly, you look up at him and see his brows drawn and his mouth in a tight line. “hoonie?” you whisper. he looks down at you and blinks, smiling reassuringly after wiping the annoyance from his face. 

“i’m fine, baby.” he says. 

“jihoon has to answer three because he hasn’t gone!” seungcheol demands, lifting his beer into the air dramatically. jihoon rolls his eyes as everyone seems to agree. 

“fine. go ahead, drunkards.” he puts his hands out as if to say “do your worst.” you hope for his sake that they don’t, but soonyoung and seungcheol look much too pleased. 

“truth or dare, hoon.” seungcheol takes it upon himself to nab one of the three questions.

“truth.”

“what,” seungcheol starts, is the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to you?”

jihoon sighs and rolls his eyes. “finding out minji cheated on me through social media. from someone else.” his tone is cold and distant and he finishes the though with a sip of his coke. “what’s next?”

seokmin - an actor friend from jihoon and seungcheol’s company - shoots his hand into the air. “truth or dare!” jihoon looks at him with something resembling fondness and responds this time with dare. something bubbles in your stomach, nerves maybe, but jihoon seems unworried. “i dare you to look into your girlfriend’s eyes for a full minute and say something romantic.”

a few boos sound out at this, but there is also laughter, and jihoon huffs out a sigh as he thinks about it. 

“fine.” he decides. “someone get a timer.”

someone announces that they’re on it, and jihoon turns his body to face you straight on. his cheeks are the slightest bit flushed, almost as if he’d been drinking, but you know better. whoever has the timer says “start!” and jihoon’s eyes meet yours. 

you’re not sure what you’re feeling. you’ve had quite a bit to drink, and your head was already feeling fuzzy before you found yourself staring into the eyes of your fake-beloved. but now, seeing the warmth there, you feel your body heat up and your heart pound faster. he says nothing, not yet, but he smiles at you softly and you smile back, muscles moving on automatic. 

whoever’s holding the timer announces, “30 seconds left!”

jihoon’s heart feels like it’s going to hammer out of his chest - he wonders if anyone else can hear it. of course seokmin would think up a dare so sweet, and soft, and jihoon knew better than to take a drink in the face of a challenge so seemingly easy. it wasn’t a secret that jihoon wasn’t the most romantic- not in the loud, typical ways, anyway. the ones society deemed more important. looking directly into your eyes spurs a number of thoughts in his head, but he isn’t sure how safe it is to say them out loud. 

“10 seconds!”

jihoon takes a deep breath and lets it out. he blinks a few times, bites his lip. “i’m so happy that i met you.” he says softly. “i hope this - this thing we have - works out in all the ways we want it to.”

you smile at him, fond. the timer goes off and people start to complain that his words weren’t enough, but you turn to them sharply and say that it meant a lot to you.

“and i’m his girlfriend, so my opinion is the one that matters.”

jihoon reaches out and squeezes your hand before settling himself back against the edge of the beanbag, his arm wrapping around your waist. 

“who’s next?” he asks. his eyes flit over to soonyoung, who seems lost in thought. sober, that’s usually not a good sign. but drunk and in the middle of a game of truth or dare makes jihoon nervous. 

“truth or dare?” soonyoung asks. jihoon takes his time before deciding, considering soonyoung with a heavy look. 

“truth.” he decides, eyes narrowed, hand clenching around the drink he held. 

soonyoung smiles, more of a smirk, and jihoon’s stomach sinks. “tell us, jihoon.” he drums his fingers together, pausing surely for effect. “if you had to pick between one month into your last relationship, or the one you have now, which one would you say has been better so far?”

jaws around the room drop, and jihoon nearly crushes the can in his hand.

soonyoung’s eyes pop, and you’re not looking but you’re sure the look jihoon is giving him isn’t pleasant. 

seungcheol starts to speak up, but soonyoung is already backtracking. “nevermind it was a bad idea, i’ll -”

“now.” 

soonyoung’s mouth hangs open, surprised. a chorus of “huh?” makes its way around the room and back to jihoon, whose jaw is set and cheeks are red. 

“now. i would pick what i have now over anything with minji. it doesn’t matter how good things were before, she ruined that.” jihoon stands abruptly, walking towards the front door. as quickly as you can on unsteady legs, you stand yourself and follow him. he pulls his coat on and says nothing until you do.

“are you leaving?” you ask quietly. despite what you’d said earlier, you suddenly feel very unsure of yourself. 

jihoon looks up at you, almost as if he hadn’t noticed you there. “no - no, i just…need to step outside for a minute. i wouldn’t leave without you.” 

you nod slowly and reach for your own coat, your scarf and shoes. jihoon protests, if only mildly, but you ignore them and lead the way outside. 

11:45

you and jihoon stand outside together in silence, leaning against his car. 

it’s you that breaks it.

“she really hurt you, huh.” it’s less of a question and more of an observation. jihoon hums in response, but you hadn’t expected much more than that. “i’m really sorry, hoonie.”

jihoon hums again, then lets out a short bark of laughter. “the only one who should be sorry is my ex. and yours, i’m assuming.”

you sigh. “haejoon is the last thing i want to think about right now.”

jihoon nods. “right, right - sorry.”

the silence returns, and you play with a loose string on your glove. 

“i wasn’t - i would pick our fake relationship anyway.” jihoon says suddenly. “i know i made it sound like it was only because she cheated on me, but really, what you and i have is way better. even if it’s…fake.” there’s something in the way he says in that has your heart clenching, but you’re not sure what.

the icy weather has done well to sober you up, but you’re still definitely drunk. too drunk try and parse out what jihoon might or might not mean. 

“we should kiss.” you say, eyes trained on that damn loose string. jihoon makes a choking noise beside you. “at midnight, i mean. the other couples definitely will.”

jihoon stares at you for a few moments before he says anything. it seems he, too, is trying to decide if it’s worth it to find any deeper meaning in your words. “are you sure?” is what he goes with, instead.

“yeah, i think we’ll get too much shit if we don’t.” jihoon reaches out and plucks the loose string off clean, laying it in your palm. “thanks.”

“if you really think we should…” jihoon says softly. 

“if you’re worried i’m just….dunno, drunk, i’ve been thinking about this for a while. just…forgot.” you shrug.

jihoon’s chest caves in. you’ve been thinking about kissing him? he clenches and unclenches his fists, urging himself not to look too deep. it makes sense. these things needed consideration for your ruse to really fool anyone. of course you’d thought about it, it was a logical thing to do. nothing more.

“okay.” he says. “sounds like a plan.” 

“cool.” you return. “glad we’re on the same page.” you shiver, lips trembling, and suggest going back inside. “do you feel better now, hoonie?”

he nods. “yeah, yeah i do. thanks for coming out here with me.”

you nod back and reach out, taking his hand in yours. 

11:55

once returning inside, soonyoung plies jihoon with apologies, reaching out with attempts at hugs that jihoon maneuvers himself away from. the beanbag has been taken over by two people you don’t recognize, locked in a heated kiss, so you manage to squeeze onto an empty spot on the couch. there’s only room for one of you, really, so you end up in jihoon’s lap. 

soyoung has turned the tv to the channel homing the ball drop, a counter at the bottom of the screen detailing only three minutes left now until the end of the year. you hold your drink in your hand, other arm wrapped around jihoon’s shoulders for stability. 

11: 59

the final countdown begins. 

the thirty second mark sparks a cheer amongst the crowd in soyoung’s living room. 

you toss back as much of your drink as you can handle. the closer you get to kissing jihoon the tighter your stomach and chest begin to feel. it’s almost worse that the feelings aren’t bad, necessarily. you almost welcome them. 

you take another swig.

ten seconds left.

nine.

eight.

seven.

six.

five.

four. 

three.

two.

one.

around you, the room erupts into cheers as music starts playing, fireworks to be heard from out on the street.

your heart pounds in your ears, and you turn to face jihoon. he looks calm, and it calms the restless beating. you lean down as he tilts his head up, and you press your lips softly to his. 

you’re not sure why you were so worried about this kiss. kissing jihoon, much like every other part of your fake relationship, feels fine. feels good, even. you might almost say it feels natural, but you’re drunk so you don’t dwell on it too much. the kiss is soft, and sweet, and reminds you a lot of first kisses you’ve had in the past. jihoon’s lips move gently against yours, and you respond in kind. the cheers from the rest of the party continue as you pull away from him. you laugh, and he laughs too, bright sounds bubbling up from both of you as jihoon wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer. soyoung and woomin are still going at it near the kitchen counter, and numerous other couples can be spotted doing the same as you glance around the room. 

“jihoon.” you say softly, tugging at his arm, “i need to pee, let me up.”

“ah.” he releases you and helps you stand on wobbly legs so you can wade through the crowd towards the little hall where the bathroom is. a few jeers follow you, but you ignore them - the pressure in your bladder is much more important. 

you finish and wash your hands, opening the door to, surprisingly, find jihoon waiting.

“do you have to pee too?” you ask. he has had a lot of soda to drink, to be fair.

“no, no.” he shakes his head. “i um -”

jihoon doesn’t get to finish what he wanted to say.

from the living room you can hear soyoung screaming obscenities, and alarm bells go off in your head immediately, rushing from the hall with jihoon at your heels to see what was wrong.

you immediately wish you’d just stayed in the hallway.

there, standing in the living room, is soyoung, held back by woomin who looks as if he’d much rather let her go. standing opposite your best friend is someone you thought you’d never see again. someone you’d spent so much time trying to move past after he’d made you question everything you’d ever done.

standing opposite soyoung is haejoon. your ex-boyfriend. who’s decided not only to crash soyoung’s party, but to bring his girlfriend with him. 

“how fucking dare you,” soyoung is screaming, “what makes you think i would let you into my home after what you did?”

“that goes for you too, minji.” woomin seethes, eyes narrowed at haejoon’s girlfriend. 

the aura of the room is filled with hate, and anger, but you’re just filled with unbelievable sadness. 

then haejoon sees you, and he smirks. “well, fancy seeing you here.”

“i was invited.” you say meekly. you hate this, hate the way he makes you feel even after all this time. small and weak and unsure of yourself. 

he shrugs. “well, the party we were at before was a bust, and soyoung has always thrown a good party, so i thought we would drop by.” the girl he’s with smiles, something full of spite and malice, her eyes narrowed at you. 

“that’s your ex, babe?” she simpers. “no wonder you broke up with her.” she titters a ridiculous little laugh behind her hand, and haejoon chuckles before telling her to “behave.”

you feel like you’re going to throw up. soyoung looks like she’s ready to claw this girl’s eyes out - her name is already gone from your memory, she isn’t important, she’s not - and several of the men in the room have stood and are moving closer to haejoon. you don’t want things to get violent, not at all, but you do kind of wish someone would punch haejoon’s lights out. 

and then jihoon is stepping out from behind you, making his way through the crowd until he’s standing face to face with haejoon. haejoon’s girlfriend is staring at him, eyes wide and face gone pale like she’s seen a ghost.

“so you’re haejoon.” jihoon’s voice is eerily calm and your heart is pounding so hard it feels like it might burst out of your chest any moment. 

haejoon nods, looking jihoon up and down. “and you are?”

jihoon’s eyes glance towards the girlfriend, who won’t meet his gaze. “i’m surprised she didn’t tell you.” he turns back to haejoon. “i’m minji’s ex-boyfriend. the one she cheated on to be with you. did she ever tell you that? that she had to lie and sneak and hurt people to go out with you?”

you feel like your world is going to explode. you need a drink. you need ten drinks. but jihoon doesn’t seem to be done.

haejoon scoffs.“she told me, yeah. right after she dumped you. by then you guys were over, so what does it matter to me?”

jihoon sees red. “you’re a piece of shit. both of you. you deserve each other.” his fists are clenching at either side and the whole room seems to be holding its breath. 

“what’s your fucking problem, dude?” haejoon raises his eyebrows. “i didn’t do anything to you.”

jihoon considers this. his fists clench tighter. “no, i suppose not intentionally. you did, however, hurt someone very important to me.”

haejoon seems thrown off by that. and then his balance is thrown off when jihoon rears back and punches him straight in the jaw, knocking him back towards the wall.

“jihoon!” minji screeches. he ignores her and stalks towards haejoon.

“you both need to get out of here while i’m still being nice.” jihoon seethes. “you’re a piece of shit boyfriend and a piece of shit altogether, so i guess i’m glad you two found your way to each other. but,” he points back towards you, eyes locked with haejoon. “before you go, you owe my girlfriend a fucking apology for how you treated her.”

you start to tell jihoon that it’s fine, you’re fine, but he turns back towards you with determination in his eyes before turning back to haejoon.

“i’m waiting.”

haejoon is, by all means, much larger than jihoon. regardless of this, he’s always been a coward with only self-preservation to drive him, so he glances over jihoon’s shoulder at you and nods his head.

“i’m sorry.”

“that’s not good enough.” jihoon bites out. 

“i’m sorry i was a shitty boyfriend, okay? i treated you bad and i was talking to other girls while we were dating and i should have broken up with you sooner.”

jihoon punches him again, right in the gut. “that’s not a fucking apology, i ought to-” jihoon stops speaking when you let out a choked sob, and makes the choice to leave haejoon doubled over and instead move back towards you. woomin takes the opportunity to let soyoung go, and she rushes forward to grab haejoon by the ear and drag him towards the door. minji makes to follow, but you call out to her this time.

jihoon, much like everyone else in the room, looks surprised.

“you owe jihoon an apology too, you bitch. i know you never gave him one.”

she narrows her eyes at you and walks away, and now in addition to the unbridled sadness there is unimaginable rage boiling under your skin. you start to walk towards her but jihoon holds you back, wrapping his arms around you and whispering into your ear. 

“it’s fine.” he murmurs. “i’m not worth that kind of trouble.”

you scoff before wrapping your arms up around his shoulders. “what, and i am?” you whisper back, laying your head in his neck. 

“of course.”

you chuckle, but it ends up paving the way for a sob. you’re still reeling from everything that just happened, and seeing haejoon had been enough of a slap in the face before he’d opened his goddamned mouth and -

“sweetheart.” comes soyoung’s voice, soft. “why don’t you let jihoon take you home, okay?" 

you turn your head to look at her, and she looks like she’s ready to cry herself. you hate that the party has turned out this way. you can’t help feeling like it was all your fault. 

"i - i want to stay.” you reply. “i just - i need a few minutes.”

soyoung shakes her head. “i think after all that excitement it’s best we call it a night. go home, drink lots of water, and call me tomorrow, okay?”

behind her, woomin is rounding everyone up and herding them towards the door. no one seems upset, but you still feel awful. your lip wobbles and soyoung reaches out to tuck some hair behind your ear. 

you promise to call her and release your hold on jihoon, sniffling and rubbing at your nose. everyone else is gone now, you notice. jihoon takes you by the hand and brings you to the door, helping you back into your shoes and coat. now that everything is over, you just feel…numb. it’s probably shock, you think. 

you say goodbye and once more promise soyoung you’ll call her, waving goodbye to woomin. jihoon does the same, and then you’re back out into the cold and heading for his car. he helps you up before getting in himself, and there’s only quiet between you other than the sound of the car engine turning over and music playing from the bluetooth. he pulls out of their driveway and onto the street, and it’s not until you’re out on the main road that he says anything. 

“are you hungry?” 

you look over at him, not really sure. you shrug. the two of you had eaten a light dinner, and there’d been food at the party, but you find yourself sort of…craving something, if only so you don’t have to talk. 

“do you mind if we stop somewhere on the way - “

“i don’t want to go home, jihoon.” you say softly. “not - not right now. can we just - drive around for a while?”

jihoon blinks, caught off guard, but nods. “sure. then we should definitely eat something.” 

you end up at a 7-11, which works just fine for you. jihoon peruses snacks and sandwiches while you bee-line for the liquor - desperate to distract yourself from the ache beginning to gnaw fiercely at your insides. you grab three bottles of soju - surprised that there are any left - and march up to the counter, handing over your id and your money, thanking the clerk before wandering back to jihoon. he has a few bags of chips and some instant ramen tucked into his arm, and when he sees your bag his brows draw together. 

“i’m not trying to tell you what to do, but is that - are you sure that’s a good idea right now?” he asks, trying his best to show that he’s concerned, not bossy. 

you sigh. “i wanted to drink more anyway. it’s - i would have drank more at the party.”

jihoon nods slowly. “if you’re going to drink, why don’t we go back to -”

“i don’t want to go home.”

“go back to my place,” he finishes. “i can take you home later.”

you sniffle and shrug your shoulders. “okay, i guess we can do that.”

“okay.” he nods, mostly to himself this time. “let me pay for this and we can go.”

once he’s done so, you get back into the car and open one of the bottles of soju. jihoon makes a face but doesn’t ask you to stop, so you take a deep gulp from it before replacing the cap and sliding the bottle into the cupholder. the drive is silent, this time. neither of you say anything until jihoon pulls into his own driveway, hopping out of the car and waiting for you to do the same before heading inside. 

you settle onto the couch after shedding your layers at the door, and jihoon disappears into the kitchen only to show up a few minutes later holding two steaming bowls of ramen. he hands you one, and you’re surprised by the familiar container. “my favorite.”

he hums, sitting down beside you with his own. “you told me about it when we were at the carnival. do you want to watch a movie?”

you nod slowly, taking a small sip from your soju - now onto the second bottle, you were taking things slower. you let him pick, something from the mcu, but you’re not paying any attention. you can’t help it. you can’t stop thinking about the way haejoon had shown up after all this time and only made things worse, how could he have possibly made anything worse after the way he’d treated you? and to find out he’d cheated, too - you don’t notice the tears streaming down your face or the way your chest is heaving until jihoon has pulled you close to him, wiping your eyes with a tissue. 

“please.” he whispers. “that piece of trash isn’t worth this.”

“it’s my fault, jihoon.” you sob. “something is wrong with me. why else - why else would he be like that towards me when he’s - he’s perfectly fine with her?” your entire body shakes as sobs wrack through your body, barely able to see jihoon through your tears. 

“no.” jihoon insists, firm. “it’s not you, it’s him, he’s not worth a rotting piece of shit, he’s less than that, please just - there’s nothing wrong with you.”

“i made him stop loving me.” you whimper, chewing at your lip.

“someone like him isn’t capable of love.” jihoon pauses. “and he isn’t worthy of yours, either.”

you reach for the bottle of soju before jihoon can stop you, downing the rest of it. “i loved him so fucking much, hoonie.” fresh tears fill your eyes. “i loved him so much and he didn’t give a shit about me, and it hurts so much.”

“i know, baby.” jihoon whispers. “i know exactly how you feel.”

the nickname strikes you in a funny way, knowing there’s no one here for him to pretend for, but you take it. “i hate him so much.”

“good.” jihoon grabs a new tissue to wipe your face with. “he deserves all that and more. i should have - i wish i would have -” he lets out a frustrated noise and clenches his fists. you reach out and unfurl one of them to intertwine your fingers. 

“thank you for what you did, jihoon.” you say softly, unable to look at him. “i’m sorry the party was ruined on my account.”

“stop that.” jihoon squeezes your hand. “it’s not your fault. it’s theirs, for showing up where they know they aren’t wanted. they knew something like that would happen. it’s what they wanted, i’m sure.”

“but -”

“no buts.” he insists. “eat your ramen.” he stands for a moment and walks back towards the kitchen, returning with a glass of water. “and drink this. your head is going to be pounding tomorrow.”

you take the glass from him and sip slowly as he sits back down on the couch, noticeably closer than he was before. he’s pressed up against you almost as if he’s trying to remind you that he’s there, if you need him. 

you wonder if he knows how much it means to you. 

#Seventeen #seventeen imagines #Lee Jihoon #seventeen woozi #woozi imagines #svt woozi #seventeen fanfic #woozi fanfic #seventeen jihoon #svt jihoon #lemon drop

[littlevenusflytrap22]

Unadulterated (A Kylo Ren x Reader Fanfic) 

read it on AO3 here

Chapter 1/Chapter 2/Chapter 3 

“Ever word so proper….like a Lieutenant…” you could feel every word on your neck, a brand on your skin “…but that voice I hear in your head, it tells me something else” 

You didn’t know whether you were alive or dead. Pillows had indented to the shape of your head, your blankets were wrapped around you so tight that you could barely breath- you don’t remember the last time you drank water. Shame swelled in your head and you breathed a dramatic sigh into your pillowcase.

Imagine, you thought, letting your horniness get the better of you and losing your chance to impress.

It was one little mistake. Sure, touching yourself on shift wasn’t smart but it’s not like any of your superiors even notice you exist half the time. Sure, it was a slip of the hand. Sure, you could have been fired or worse but we all have moments of weakness.

Right?

“Open up…” an incessant banging railed your door, “…you’ll never guess who I met!” Levi pronounced through the steel of the door.

You could have a guess at who he met.

“Leave me alone, I’m wallowing in self pity dramatically and don’t have time for your energy right now” you sighed, flopping on your back like a longing maiden from a romance play.

“I have sweets”

“Red ones?”

“Of course! don’t be an idiot, open the door”

You pushed an arm out of your covers to press a button on the bedside table. You heard a whoosh and the airlock released. A cheery-faced Levi entered with all the grace of a seasoned dancer and all the exuberance of a Vulptex. He looked like the human embodiment of a supernova and it was far too bright for your eyes.

“so..” He throws you a bag which thuds off your chest with a resounding slap, “…I’m standing there, supervising some engineering work and totally getting my rocks off by telling the officers to speed up. Anyway, in walks Kylo Ren; Devastatingly tall and he looks over the job..”

“ And he goes..” He sighs flopping onto your bed, “‘Good work’. He told me my work was good, I almost fucking came”

Please don’t talk about cumming at work, I’m still suffering from PTSD.

“Good for you” you said.

You gave a grumpy huff and poured some of the red gummies Levi had got you onto your boobs. Who needs a bowl when you have tits? Levi laid beside you. In the small cot you he took up all the room that was left. Each Lieutenant got their own sleeping quarters with enough ‘necessities’ to get you to the next shift. One stiff-as-a-rod single bed, a compact shower/bathroom and a few desks for data pads, books or anything work related.

At the end of Officer training you and Levi had cut a hole in the wall. Small enough to not be seen during room inspections but big enough to hold confiscated items. He had even built a tiny mechanical door to hide your secrets. Little treasures from planets past sat in there - dried flowers, bottles of sand and gems. No one expected luxury when entering the first order, but you had expected to be able to keep small parts of you.

Though, it was not like the First Order was known for hospitality.

“What has got you so down?” Levi brushed your cheek with his hand.

You remembered the brush of the Commanders hand on yours, the feel of smoothed leather and the clench of your core.

“I lost a job with Kylo Ren, he basically sees me as inept”

Levi laid on his side to watch you, a frown pulled at the pink of his lips.

“I head Mandalay got a job with him, which one of the twins was it? The nice one or the wicked witch of the Finalizer?” He groaned, gesturing his hands animatedly.

You sigh, “The nice one”

“Well shit” he pulled you into a hug “That sucks worse, cause you can’t even hate her for it…but you’re not telling me everything are you?”

A resounding blush worked appeared on your cheeks. It’s not like you can say ‘yeah, I fucked myself thinking about Kylo Ren and he saw me with my juices all over my thigh. Now he thinks I’m a slutty dumbass and wouldn’t let me on a simple mapping project’.

“Did you suck Kylo Rens dick?”

“What? No!”

“Oh”, he takes a sigh before pushing a sweet into his mouth, “well, anything you say now will just be disappointing”

The words choke in your mouth. Even Levi could never know your shame, no matter how many secrets the two of you shared together. The embarrassment of the that moment is not something you can just bounce back from.

Nor did you want him to know how close you were to getting on your knees and begging to suck the Commanders dick.

You spent the next day rightfully melancholy. Lt Mandalay sat next to you at breakfast which almost gave you heart palpitations. Ever part of you wanted to berate her for taking what was yours. But, it was not her fault that you were shrouded in failure.

“Kalea” you spoke, your spoon hovering centimetres from your mouth “I’m not angry at you for taken that job, you deserve it”

Kalea, Lt Mandalay, gave you a soft smile, so reminiscent of the princesses of childhood picture books. Her beauty was not something to scoff at. Her skin was effortlessly flawless; a rich black with a bronze undertone that made her shine like smooth tourmaline. Plus, she was far more kind than any First Order officer you had met.

“No” she pushed an extra piece of bread on to your plate “That work was far more difficult than my capabilities, it was not right for me at all. However, I did put in a good word for you with the Commander. I told him that you were perfect for any role he had available. I do not think I have the strength to work with him”

Strength? How could anyone not want to be pushed to their best. That is, after all, what makes us formidable.

You gave her the sweetest smile you could manage, while trying to hide the burning happiness inside of you. Imagine -if next time- it’s yours.

You were surprised at how fast the calling came.

The transfer of kyber crystals was your main focus for the rest of your shift. Getting them to bases (or the Finalizer) was extremely difficult as the mines were prime targets for Resistance attacks and travelling with them was dangerous at best. You spent that majority of your time looking through safe travel routes and making sure there were enough ground forces defending mining planets. Ineptitude in this role could end in death and you weren’t keen to be black marked by the First Order.

In your mind, you saw his presence before you felt it. It was like, a harsh melody playing in your head. One that you could not stop listening to. Then in crawled that incessant burning feeling down your neck and you stood up with attention.

I can feel you.

The door opened to reveal the Commander, guarded by two Stormtroopers who seem to give you an odd appraisal before standing to attention by the door. You guessed that they didn’t see you as much of a threat.

Ignore the fact that the Commander is fucking hot and just impress. Do not let your vagina do the talking for you.

Kylo gave a slow meander around the small work room and you standing next to your command desk. You felt so insignificantly small in this moment.

“Sir, I-“ you started, he held up a hand to stop you.

“I’m here because I need a guarded escort” he said, standing by the opposite wall. He was looking out into the stars. If you weren’t the only one here you’d wonder if he was even addressing anyone; his voice lacked any distinction behind his modulator.

“I was assured you’d be up to the task and everyone else already has obligations necessary to the First Order. You, however…” he turned to face you “…are dispensable”

You tried not to visually cringed at the idea that he had chosen you because you were the only one available.

Fuck you, I’m worth more than something easily replaceable. I’m the best you have.

Kylo stepped before you, turning his head slightly as he watched you lower your head. You weren’t sure if you did it out of respect or fear. He raised a gloved hand and turned to the Stormtroopers given them a gesture you can’t even begin to explain. Each filled out of the room, understanding an order the Commander didn’t need to vocalise. Leaving you alone with him.

You heard a whoosh of air as the Commander presses either side of his mask, removing it with practiced elegance. You indulged in the features of his face; the soft slop of his nose, the honeyed light of his eyes and the soft vibrancy of his hair. You wonder how such beauty could stay contained.

And how much he’s getting paid, because I cannot afford shampoo that good.

He waltzed around you, his eyes not removing themselves from your form. Stature was everything when commanding respect.  You kept your hands behind your back and shoulders straight. Perfect posture for an Officer of the First Order.

“It’s funny…” he brushed a finger along the one slither of skin on you nape “…how your mind screams something different than your mouth. You’re hiding someone else below the surface aren’t you?”

“Commander, I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. Has my service to the First Order not been satisfactory?”

He brings his head to the corner of your neck and breaths slightly on the shell of your ear. You could not repress the shiver that overcomes you.

“Ever word so proper….like a Lieutenant…” you could feel every word on your neck, a brand on your skin “…but that voice I hear in your head, it tells me something else”

He could hear me. He could always hear me. He knows every thought I had in that command room. My thoughts about his thighs, my thoughts now. Shit.

The Commander final walks around you to watch your face from up close. Without warning, he reaches a finger up to pull a strand of your hair out from your hat. Slowly, that finger traces down your cheek, drawing an indecent line to the plump of your bottom lip. He rests his knuckle there: insistent and probing.

Without any thought, your tongue comes out to brush the leather.

Shit.

You fling your self away from his body. Your breathing was tight as you actively tried to avoid your eyes.

“I’m sorry Sir, I shouldn’t have done that. I didn’t think”

Kylos’ eyes filled with a darkness. That, you thought, was either lust or anger.

He smirked, “No, you shouldn’t have”

Within seconds he grips your throat in one of his large hands; swallowing you neck with the ‘v’ of his thumb and finger. He threw you up against the wall with a resounding slap. It felt like something you had been waiting for. A dream and a nightmare rolled into one.

The Commander removes his hand from your throat to push his index finger past the guard of your lips. Penetrating your mouth with aggression. You didn’t have to think, you just acted. Your tongue dances underneath his finger, sucking passionately on its tip.

“You dirty whore…” he sighed, the leather of his glove punishing the back of your throat “…Do you do this for everyone? Do you, princess?”

He pushes the heat of his thigh in-between your legs, allowing you the slightest piece of reprieve. You feel like a puppet, moved around by his devices, only being allowed to chase your pleasure when he wants you too. Kylo pushes your pussy down onto his thigh with his free hand, allowing you to grind lightly and letting the seem of your trousers rub along your clit.

“My little fool…”.he breathed it on to your neck, letting his tongue lick the sweat on your nape “…How can you be my guard when all you think about is how you want to fuck me?”

You’re forced to turn your head when a bright pain splashes along your cheek, the Commander had slapped you. Yet, you feel your cunt clench while the pain seeps through your head. Fuck, you wanted him to slap you again. You were grinding an aggressive rhythm on his thigh, suddenly uncaring if anyone saw you. After all, you quite enjoy the idea of everyone knew you had the privilege to fuck the Commanders thigh.

A resounding slap echos of the walls when he hits you again, a fresh wave of cum oozing from your pussy and leaving a wet stain on your panties.

“Answer me Lieutenant!” he pushes the fingers to the back of your throat, shoving them in and out with a rapid pace “…Oh, you can’t”

You gag on his fingers and you feel saliva pooling out of your mouth and onto your uniform. You can’t help but think of the last time he saw your uniform dirty. Did he enjoy it? Did he want you because he saw how willing you could be? how much of a whore you could become? Kylo Rens official slut.  

The fingers in your mouth suddenly halted, pulling out to rub saliva along your lips. The Commander tensed his thigh and you breathed out an airy groan. You wanted more, you wanted him to fuck you right here, push his cock in with such power that your legs shake from it.

“You won’t cum today” he stated.

No, please no. I’ll do anything.

“Please, please Commander. I-i know what I did was wrong but please just..” You gave two harsh grinds on to his thigh feeling you clit pulse “…just a bit longer”

Kylo wrapped a tight hand into your hair, throwing your head harshly against the cold still.

“Do not argue with me girl”

He grinds the outline of his cock against your thigh, the only indication that this had any effect him at all. He grins into the corner of your neck before gripping your chin to turn your face toward him.

“After all…” he whispers “..We don’t cum at work do we?”

Slowly, he moves away from you. Which finally gave you space to gasp for air, shaking from the exhaustion and pain from being denied what your body needs the most.

“Be in the hanger in the morning..” He rubs your mouth with his finger before turning to leave “…We start work tomorrow”

#Kylo Ren #Kylo Ren x reader #kylo ren x you #Kylo Ren smut #ben swolo #ben solo #ben solo x you #ben solo x reader #Unadulterated

[invisibletinkerer]

Fic: 30 Seconds Later (chapter 17)

Chapter 1 – Chapter 2 – Chapter 3 – Chapter 4 – Chapter 5 – Chapter 6 – Chapter 7 – Chapter 8 – Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Chapter 18 - Chapter 19

Length: ~5000 words

AO3: archiveofourown.org/works/13715520/chapters/43355552

The brightly pink futuristic communicator probably wasn’t controlled by a sapient artificial intelligence or captured fairy, despite Stanley’s disingenuous claims to the contrary. It did, however, seem to involve a magical force field that created buttons based on the symbols that appeared on the screen. The screen – which, unlike any TV or computer screen Stanford had ever laid his eyes on, didn’t seem to have any raster whatsoever. Or any CRT depth requirements.

There were also purple kittens and little hearts everywhere.

It was mesmerizing, but also vexing. He had more of an idea how the alien drones worked than this thing. Perhaps Fiddleford would—no. He shut that thought down.

Stanley was no help either – his reaction to Ford’s wide-eyed quizzical stare was an amused smile and a shrug. “Beats me,” he said. “I could make something up about it if ya like.”

“No, thank you.” Ford sighed and handed the device back to his brother.

His old brother. Because this was the future. His old twin brother, whom, as it happened, he didn’t actually resent. Maybe he’d only ever wanted to resent him, as if that would make their estrangement easier to bear. Stanley was far from the only one with a tendency to make bad life choices.

Maybe Bill wouldn’t be able to destroy the world. Maybe Bill wouldn’t even be able to kill him. Perhaps Stanford Pines was stuck in the future and there was nothing about that he could understand.

It was too much – right now it was just too much. He’d figure it all out later.

If the sealed briefcase containing the rift bought him enough time.

Another deep sigh and he forced himself to his feet, one hand on the pillar for support. “I’m well enough to walk,” he told Stanley. “Let’s go home.”

 * * *

 Stan groaned involuntarily when he got back to his feet, the throbbing headache in the back of his head returning with some revenge for being ignored for so long, but he didn’t care. He still felt kinda drunk on the sort of relief that nerdy types like Poindexter here would probably call by some fancy name in Latin.

Ford didn’t hate him. Ford forgave him.

Ford was alive, the demon had scuttered off to wherever demons go, and Stan felt like there had been a weight around his neck that he’d been so used to carrying around that he’d hardly even noticed it until it was gone. Or at least it was eased to the point that he felt lightheaded. There might be a bit of a smile on his face that he just couldn’t get rid of, so nevermind if his head hurt a bit.

He kept close to his brother, ready to support him if he’d need it, but he seemed to be steady enough. The tranquilizer thing was probably wearing off completely as they walked. He barely seemed any worse off that he’d been this morning – not saying a lot, sure, except that that demon had been an outrageous liar.

And – praise the ancient alien overlords – Ford set a slow pace, hopefully actually thinking about conserving his strength for once.

It felt surreal that this whole thing had happened in a spaceship. The reflections from the flashlight in in Ford’s hand created moving, unreal shapes on the walls, blurring in and out of focus as his thoughts drifted. Stan hated those aliens. Buncha jerks, trying to arrest people for what? Post-mortem trespassing? Or would that would count as graverobbing? Nah, could hardly be robbing if you didn’t steal anything. Well. Didn’t steal much. This time.

It took a few moments before he noticed that Ford wasn’t at his side anymore, but a few steps ahead. Dammit, he was supposed to make sure his brother didn’t overexert himself before he was properly recovered. “Hey.”

Stanford stopped and turned around. “Stanley?”

“Don’t run off.”

“I wasn’t—” Ford paused. “I wasn��t running,” he repeated with a slight frown. “In fact, I was walking slower than I could have.” He raised his arms and flexed the fingers on his left hand to demonstrate. “The effect of the sedative has worn off almost completely.”

Stan scoffed at that. “Yeah, well, you’re still weak, and also hurt. So take it easy.”

Ford pulled his coat tighter around himself and gave Stan a strange look while he caught up. Hardly the wild-eyed paranoid stare of last night over tacos, but still suspicious.

“Stanley,” he said eventually. “There’s blood on your head.”

Stan reflexively put up a hand to the offending spot. The bump he’d gotten from crashlanding in that bubble prison thing protested the touch with another sting of pain, and Ford was right, there might be a bit of crusted blood in his hair. Crap.

“So I might be a tiny bit concussed,” he blurted. “No big deal, just a little headache. I’ve been through a lot worse in the boxing ring.”

Ford looked at him.

Stan looked back.

“That’s—”

“I’m not—”

Stan broke first. He burst out laughing. He’d all but forgotten about that head injury in his worry about Ford – and it really wasn’t a big deal, he knew what a serious concussion felt like, but yes, it was slowing him down – and now Ford was worrying about him. It was—it was stupid, and also, somehow, hilarious.

Ford cracked a smile, then finally chuckled drily, shoulders shaking. After a long moment where neither of them could get a word out, Ford finally pulled himself together. “Have I ever told you that you’re a knucklehead?”

“Careful, Poindexter,” Stan said, wiping his eyes with one hand and rubbing the bump on his head with the other. “You could almost start to think we’re related.”

“That would be a disaster.”

“You’re right about that one.” It was so easy. They were together again, after everything. Something in Stan’s stomach clenched, like he still couldn’t believe this was real, he’d done it and Ford was going to be okay. “I guess I could take a painkiller,” he added, putting the bad down. “Water would be nice, but we don’t have any left.”

Ford blinked. “What happened to it?”

“Used it up for—” Stan nodded towards what was under Ford’s shirt.

Ford’s expression closed up for a moment. “Ah.”

Stan found a pill in the rapidly emptying first-aid kit, swallowing it dry and hoping it would help. He offered a second pill to Ford, who took it after some hesitation.

Before he could pick up the bag, Ford grabbed the strap. “I’ll carry the bag the rest of the way,” he announced.

Stan put his hands over Ford’s and stopped him. “I have a bump and a headache – I’m not dying.”

“Neither am I, and you’ve been carrying it all day.”

Stan huffed. “You mean other than the hours I spent waiting for your unconscious butt to come back to the land of the living?”

“Yes. That—”

“Forget about it,” Stan said, taking the bag from Ford. “I’m still in better shape than you are.”

Ford threw his hands up with a frustrated grimace. “I was just trying to—”

“It’s not that heavy,” Stan said, pulling the strap over his shoulder. “But thanks for the offer, I guess?”

Ford’s shoulders slumped slightly. “You’re sixty, you have a concussion, and you’re still in better shape than me.” He folded his arms over his chest, clenching his fingers in the fabric of his coat.

“Yeah, well, you’re gonna recover and get as strong as you like, and I’m only gonna get older, so don’t be too jealous.” Stan grimaced and patted Ford on the back, earning him a slight twitch and then a sigh. “Come on, Sixer. Let’s get out of here.”

 Of course, the problem with that plan was that ‘out’ also meant ‘up’. Stan didn’t say anything when they reached the first ladder – the one in the elevator shaft – but he stopped and gave a low whistle. He might have misremembered just how far down they had climbed, but better to be impressed than intimidated. He could do it – going up couldn’t be any worse than going down, a little bruising never stopped him before, and he was over his fear of heights anyway. But Ford had strained himself just walking too fast through the forest this morning, and being shot, possessed, and then unconscious for a few hours wasn’t the kinda thing that made people stronger. Maybe they should try to—

Ford was already squaring his shoulders, starting the climb before Stan had finished the thought. To be sure, it wasn’t like he could think of any realistic alternative, so Stan followed and hoped for the best. Maybe he just wanted to get it over with.

It wasn’t fun. It didn’t take long for Ford’s breathing to become audibly labored above him, and Stan could feel the strain in his own legs. At one point he accidentally looked down, and he wasn’t sure if that’s what triggered the nausea or if the concussion had something to do with it, but he hated the whole situation with a passion. His headache only grew worse and his fingers cramped around the rungs, eyes staring at the wall inches from his face.

His head bumped into something.

Seconds later, when Stan’s heartbeat and the throbbing in his head had both calmed down to the point where he could hear himself think, he realized that it had been Ford’s shoes. Ford had stopped right above him and wasn’t moving.

“Sixer?” Stan’s knuckles were white on the rung before his eyes. “You okay?”

“I made a mistake.” Ford’s voice was breathless, trembling with exhaustion.

Stan bit back an angry retort. He kind of felt like this climb was a mistake himself, but if Ford felt that way—He wouldn’t admit that if it wasn’t bad. Stan’s shoulders cramped even tighter than they had been. “Right,” was all he said.

Ford said nothing for several moments.

“You’re not allowed to fall,” Stan managed. He wouldn’t be able to catch him. More like they’d both be done for.

Maybe that would serve them right, but it didn’t make him feel any less sick.

“I don’t intend to,” Ford said. “I just—just need to rest for a bit.”

Stan stared at his own hands, for a moment completely unable to get his eyes to focus. “Sure. I can wait.” He sure couldn’t help. He could barely help himself, hanging above a void that would crush both of them to bloody pulps if they didn’t hold on.

It took the better part of an eternity, but they did finally reach the end of the ladder and the higher level of the spaceship. Ford crumbled against a piece of broken machinery, panting and trembling, and Stan found himself lying on the floor and trying to unclench his cramping hands after all that clinging to flimsy pieces of metal and trying not to fall to a very bloody death. He was mostly unsuccessful.

“You know,” he said hoarsely, “I told Mabel a while ago that ladders cause more deaths than guns. I mean—I made that statistic up, but I’ve decided I believe it.”

“That’s—not very scientific of you.”

“Still not a scientist, Poindexter.”

Ford breathed a quiet chuckle, then stayed silent for a while. Eventually, he said, “Do you remember that time when we went into that condemned office building on Gasoline Street? I think we were thirteen.”

“Yeah.” He could kinda see why Ford would think of that one. “I picked the lock, and you were really disappointed when it was already emptied out.”

“You were disappointed too.”

“Sad but true. No treasure that day.”

“So we decided to go to the top floor—”

Stan groaned. “Don’t remind me.”

They’d went up a rickety old staircase for five or so floors before a section of the support decided that the weight of two stomping boys was too much to bear. A whole section of the stairs had basically crumbled, leaving a gap of ten or fifteen feet right where Stan and Ford had been walking seconds ago. Stan had been in shock and refused to move a muscle for several minutes, though he distinctly remembered Ford snapping his fingers and saying something like “So that’s why the building was condemned!”

Getting back down had been the challenge, that time.

“Besides,” Stan added, “that wasn’t even a ladder.”

“No, it was just a broken staircase. But you hated that, too.”

Stan sighed and rolled over on his back, finally able to uncramp his arms and relax. “Yeah, I hated it.” And despite all that, it was a fond memory.

Ford took a deep breath. “Stanley—” He seemed to be hesitating.

“Yeah?”

“The ladder to the surface is even longer than this one. I might be able to make it if I have to, but—”

Stan hid his face under his hands. “—but that’s a big maybe,” he finished. “Yeah.” He took a deep breath of his own. “But we do have to get up there somehow, unless we wanna go without food and camp here tonight.”

“Not an option,” Ford said sharply.

“Yeah, agreed.” Stan sat up, slowly, supporting his arms on his knees. Maybe he could get Soos to— “—wait, what did you say?”

“I said there’s an alternative to climbing. And at this point I believe it would be easier on both of us.” He raised a hand slightly, watching it tremble, and sighed. “Relatively, of course, but I’ve done it before.”

Stan would definitely prefer not to bet both of their lives on that Ford could make another climb. He raised an eyebrow. “You saying we fly?”

“Correct.” Ford smiled slightly.

“Hate to break it to ya, Sixer, but we’re still people, not birds.”

“Well,” Ford said, patting down his trenchcoat like he was double-checking something. “I assume you still have the second magnet gun?”

“It’s in the bag.” A heartbeat. “Oh.”

Yeah, that thing Ford had done when he came after the prison bubble Stan was pretty much flying, wasn’t it? Not like either of them had been in a state to look for that gun afterwards, either, and he half expected Ford to blame him for it being lost.

“Good,” was all Ford said. “We’ll use that to pull ourselves up.”

Stan was totally comfortable with that. Not the slightest bit worried that it might be like falling upwards and splattering yourself against a distant ceiling instead of a distant floor.

Ford rubbed his arm and continued. “It’s not overly difficult. The critical part is to aim it right, and then to brace properly for impact.” He gestured vaguely for emphasis. “And of course, not to lose your grip on the gun.”

“So...” Stan tried to work around his gut feeling that said nope and think of what it actually meant. “Sounds like it takes a bit of strength.” Also like there’d be no second chances if you failed. “If you’re not strong enough to climb, are you sure ya—”

“Strength and stamina are different things,” Ford said in that familiarly annoying way that he’d always used to point out people’s small errors. “But,” he relented, “I admit I’m low on both.” He met Stan’s eyes for a moment. “Which is why I believe—I hope that we can do it together.”

 It was somewhat terrifying, but in the end, Stan had to agree that climbing at this point wouldn’t be any less life-threatening, it would just drag it out for longer. And there was only one magnet gun, and like hell he would let Ford do it alone when even Ford himself admitted he might not make it.

Besides, Ford’s determination to do this thing was actually contagious. It would be a lot less grueling than another climb, and it would definitely get them up faster than any other possible plan.

Ford had to be the one to aim since he had some experience with doing this, but Stan was stronger, so he’d hold the gun’s handle, with Ford using his free hand to point it right. Ford’s right arm went over Stan’s shoulders and Stan used his left to hold onto Ford around the waist, trying but probably not succeeding in avoiding at least the alien blaster wound if not the infected cuts. Ford didn’t complain, though.

Stan might be clinging a little too hard as they raised the magnet gun.

“There,” Ford said, keeping Stan’s hand somewhat steady.

Stan pressed the trigger. He had exactly enough time to realize that he now knew what it felt like to be a bullet before they both slammed into the wall right below the ceiling and Stan’s headache jolted into a minor explosion that made him regret every single decision that took him to this point. That only lasted for the fraction of a moment it took before he realized that they were an absolutely ridiculous distance from the floor and that Ford’s full weight together with his own was too much for one sweaty hand on the handle of a science gizmo to hold up. Any other thought was replaced by a panicked scramble for foothold to support them.

Ford had aimed true. The ladder rungs were right there.

A second later Ford’s feet had found the ladder as well, and Stan could breathe again. Nevermind that they were packed together on the same part of the ladder, hanging right below the where the wall met the ceiling and the ladder entered the narrower chute – way too high to think about, and still a bit to go before the safety above.

“Whoa,” was all he could say.

“That’s—accurate.”

“You okay?”

“Yes. Are you?”

“Never better.”

“There seem to be—” Ford looked up. “Six rungs to go to get us up into the shaft.”

“And then we’ll zap to the top.”

Ford nodded seriously.

���This is gonna be awkward,” Stan muttered. Of course, that might have been a feature. The fact that it was awkward did distract a bit from the fact that it was dizzyingly high. And it was only six steps. Somehow they climbed them without losing track of either the ladder, the magnet gun or each other. Ford’s eyes were half-closed, focused on the task, and Stan could feel his own muscles stiffening again, but it just a little bit.

Once they were inside the chute it might not actually be safer, but it sure felt that way. Between the two of them and the duffelbag sitting on Stan’s back, it was cramped enough to almost seem snug.

Ford leaned his forehead against the wall for a moment while Stan looked up. The square of summer sky above was a warm blue, and not that far away now.

“I’m ready to get out of this dump,” he said and gave Ford a tired smile.

“It’s not a dump,” Ford said. “It’s a wreck.”

“Uh-huh.”

“But—Good.” Ford wrapped one arm around Stan’s back again, supporting himself partly on the chute wall and readying the magnet gun. “I’m ready to get out, too.”

The second jump felt less violent – maybe because it was shorter, or maybe the cramped space made them go slower, but in any case it didn’t hurt much at all. Stan pulled himself up onto the ground, then turned to give Ford a hand.

They both stumbled several steps away from the hole before promptly sitting down on the grass next to each other. Stan found himself chuckling softly. “There we go,” he said. “Ain’t no stopping the Pines.”

“Heh,” Ford said, then fell silent. He seemed to want to say something more, but it didn’t come out, so he closed his mouth again.

The silence was companionable, and Stan didn’t mind. The afternoon sunshine felt nice on his bare arms, even if it did outline a couple of new bruises very clearly.

“The rift is sealed,” Ford said eventually. “You’d need power tools to break it now.” He almost sounded like he was trying to convince himself.

“Yeah,” Stan agreed.

“Bill is going to be enraged.”

“Meh. What can he do about it?”

“I don’t know.” Ford shuddered, looking at his hands in his lap. “No doubt we’re going to find out.”

Stan shrugged it off. “You know,” he said, “We still need to get back home before we can eat.”

“Eat?” Ford blinked like he had forgotten that food was a thing. “Right. Yes.”

 Ford insisted on covering up the entrance to the UFO again before they could leave, and once they were off, it was slower going than it had been in the morning. It was one thing to hike when you had slept and eaten and your stupid genius of a young twin brother was insisting that he was fine and even enjoying himself – but a bit different when you were tired and hungry and Ford’s face was carefully neutral even when he stopped again and again to lean against a tree, glaring warily at the eye-like marks on the birches and ashes.

Neither of them noticed that they were no longer alone until someone cleared their throat.

Stan practically jumped, and he could feel more than see Ford’s head whip to the side in a movement mirroring his own. A burly, bearded, red-haired man in a flannel shirt stared at the from between a few ashen trees.

“Stanford Pines!”

“Yeah, what’s—” Stan started, while Ford spoke at the exact same time, “Yes, I—”

Stan and Ford glanced at each other, then back at the lumberjack. Stan suppressed a groan.

“Is that—Boyish Dan Corduroy?” Ford whispered. He was tense, but there was some incredulousness in his voice, too.

“Don’t call him ‘boyish’ unless you want an axe through your head,” Stan mumbled back. “But yeah.” Not the most unlikely person to run into in the woods, but it still took some bad luck to cross paths with anyone out here. He’d hoped to put off explaining Ford’s presence to the townspeople at least until after he’d talked about it with Ford, which he’d been putting off because there were bigger fish in the barrel. Like demonic possession and rifts in reality. Right now, Stan’s headache was still going strong in the back of his head, and Ford was staring at the man like he half expected him to turn into a monster any second. Not the best of moments for introductions.

Without warning, Dan raised two overly muscular arms and roared. “I’m a prophet!”

Ford took two steps backwards, but Stan reflexively put a hand on his arm, stopping him from bolting. Turning his attention to Dan, Stan sighed theatrically and crossed his arms. “You’re a what now.”

“A prophet.” Dan grinned with a lot of teeth. “There was two of you in my dream, and now here you are!”

“That’s great,” Stan said, “But there’s still only one of me.” He flicked his head at Ford. “He’s my nephew.” The lie was natural, easy, but something inside his chest still ached when he didn’t say brother.

Ford twitched. His hands were hidden behind his back, and he still looked ready to run. “Ah,” he said. “Yes. Nephew.”

“I see.” Dan held out his hand, and Ford predictably refused to take it. Stan had started to realize that was a pattern with him now. Defusing it before Dan would take offence, Stan gestured smoothly at Ford and Dan. “Dan Corduroy – this is Stanford Pines. The younger,” he added with a small grin that he really didn’t feel. “Ford – this is Manly Dan Corduroy.”

“Nice to meetcha. I see your family has no imagination for names.”

“They really don’t,” Ford said weakly. “Just call me Ford.”

“So you’re the dad of those runts running around in the Mystery Shack this year?”

“What? No, I’m—”

“Different nephew,” Stan said. “Son of a different brother, too. You know how it is with family – one moment there’s none, and the next they’re crawling out of the woodwork.”

Dan laughed. “I sure do! Well—” He started to turn as if to leave, but then he stopped. “Hey, Junior.” He glanced at the hole in the side of Ford’s coat, and the bandages barely visible underneath. “You get bit by something? If there’s a critter out there attacking people, I need to know so I can wrestle it.”

“No! No, that’s fine. It’s not that bad.” Ford shook his head, but Dan had already turned to stare at Stan’s bump and the dried blood.

He punched his hand with a fist. “Alright, accidents happen and it’s no other man’s business to ask about it, but you two ain’t gonna drive yourselves home looking like that. You’re coming with me, Pines.”

Ford glanced at Stan, wide-eyed and looking very uncomfortable. “Come on, we might as well,” Stan muttered, pulling at Ford’s elbow to follow Dan. “I’d rather get a free ride than stand around arguing.”

Dan seemed to be leading them a slightly different path than they’d been taking. Ford hesitated, but Stan pulled him along.

“Are you sure it’s—” Ford’s mumble was barely audible.

“Safe?”

“He’s not possessed, but—”

“He’s Dan flipping Corduroy. Not his style to consort with demons. You knew him, didn’t ya?”

“A bit. But he was younger then.”

Stan pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look. If he wanted to hurt us, he’d do it right here, not go back to the road first.” He got where Ford’s paranoia was coming from, sure, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t annoying.

“What’re ya mumbling about?” Dan interrupted. “Speak up like a man, Stanford!”

Stan snorted. “I was just telling Ford that sometimes people in a small town help each other out.” He gave Dan a meaningful look. “Cause I’m not gonna pay ya for this.”

Ford flinched like he thought Stan was poking a dragon, but Dan just rubbed his beard. “Wouldn’t dream of charging. Still want that free pizza, though!”

“Eh. It might happen someday.” Stan turned to Ford. “See?” To Dan, he added, “He’s from New Jersey.”

Dan laughed. “Welcome to Gravity Falls, then!”

 Dan’s old Jeep was parked at a tiny unpaved road that Stan hadn’t even been aware of, actually closer than where he’d left the Stanleymobile. Ford got into the front passenger seat with some clear reluctance, but Stan figured there was no helping that. It was just a short ride, and as far as Stan was concerned, not having to drive was a luxury. He climbed into the back seat and rubbed the bump on his head while Dan started up the car.

“Y’know,” Dan said, looking sideways at Ford. “The more I look at ya, the more ya give me a bad case of déjà vu.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, I think your uncle even used to wear that same kinda coat way back before he even started doing the Mystery Shack business. Isn’t that right, Pines?”

“Could be.” Stan tried to be noncommittal. He didn’t like that topic of conversation, not for his own sake and even less for Ford’s.

“Wish I had some picture of him back then. Would be something to compare!”

“Yes,” Ford said steely. “We do look a lot alike.”

It was a relief when Dan just grunted and stopped talking for a while, not least because Dan’s voice was on the loud side of roaring, which didn’t help Stan’s headache any. Also because he was not up to explaining a highly incriminating backstory or bullshitting a family background that Ford might or might not take offence at. Not if he didn’t have to.

Ford drummed his fingers on the car window, then stopped with a cringe and hid his hand in his pocket again. It reminded Stan of how he’d acted back when he’d found himself among strangers when they were kids. Being worried about his hands couldn’t help his paranoia any, and Stan wished he’d stop, but he wasn’t going to bring attention to it right in front of Dan, either.

They were turning on the intersection of Gopher Road when Ford spoke up. “You said you had a dream about two Stanford Pineses. What kind of a dream?”

“Funny thing!” Dan replied, his voice filling the car again. “I was having a nap, and then I started feeling like someone was watching me. So I looked up, and I saw old Mister Mystery here. Except there were two of him. And it could be that they were both a bit younger, but I’m not sure. Anyway, then I guess I went up to ‘em and beat them up.” He laughed at that, but Stan started to listen more carefully. Maybe Ford shouldn’t have asked that question.

Dan rubbed his beard with a wry grin. “That’s the weirdest part. In the dream, it seemed like a good idea to rob you and run off with the bag you were carrying.”

Stan made himself laugh. “That’s hilarious,” he said, completely aware that Ford was stiffening in the seat in front of him.

“And then I looked up at the sky,” Dan continued, “And instead of the sun there was a big yellow triangle with an eyeball in the middle, like—”

Ford threw the passenger side door open, making Dan screech the car to a halt.

“What the hell, Junior!?”

“You’re going to let us off, now,” Ford intoned.

“We’ve got 200 yards to the Mystery Shack,” Dan said, confused, but Ford was already scrambling out of the car, pulling open the door next to Stan.

Stan wouldn’t have minded riding the last 200 yards as well, but that wasn’t an option anymore. Dammit, but Ford was in a panic and if there was actually some reason for it it would have been a lot safer to just not let it on, but it was too late for that. He scooped up the bag and got down to Ford, who ripped the bag from him and went off into the forest before Stan could even turn back to the puzzled lumberjack.

“Sorry,” he said, “But I guess my br—my nephew wants to walk the rest of the way. We’ll be fine, thanks for the ride.”

Dan frowned. “What’s in that bag?”

“A well-used first aid kit,” Stan said with a grimace as if the whole thing confused him too, then glanced after Ford. “I’m gonna go see to him. See ya later.”

#gravity falls #fanfic #stanford pines #stanley pines #it writes #30 seconds later #featuring some recklessness and an encounter

[rockmiyabideusexmachina]

2019 Megaman Valentine’s Day (Talent) Contest Results!

Part two of results day, even though I always label the Talent category as Cat. 1, these results are in reverse. Oh well.  Again, raffle prize winners will be contained in both posts, so keep an eye out after my commentary on your art. Not all raffle prize winner are contained in this post. I’ll be contacting all winners soon enough, so sit tight!

To see the Humor category results, please head to THIS POST.

Will any of our Iron Chef contestants be able to create an artsy meal with these ingredients?:

To find out, along with your Talent category winners and full gallery of entries, click here after the break:

Category 1 (Talent) - The Way To A Mega Man’s Heart Is Through His Stomach

This category had the larger amount of participants, and was honestly a lot harder to judge. I really was going back and forth on where to place people, because I love so much about all of them! Your delicious culinary character combos were all delectable in their own right, whether they were actually edible pieces of art or not. I did leave this category up to interpretation a bit more, despite the initial description wording it as a food-themed pinup. As long as it contained some sort of food with a character, it technically fit the theme. 

Thank you once again to all who participated. You all make holding these events fun year after year!

I know imgbox gallery gave people some issues before, so as always, let me know if images or links appear broken. Crossing my fingers this works smoothly this year! XD

After each entrant’s name, there will be a link in the character description to the entry, too, just in case the external inserted images don’t load for you.

[Full Talent Gallery]

1.) @prar-draws​ - Zero and Ciel

While most entries focused on sugary sweets, such as pastries or candies, prar thought outside of the box just enough to stand out against the rest. Taking Zero and Ciel’s already long hair and turning it into ramen and soba noodles, the pair are relaxing together in an overflowing hot tub bowl of their pasta-y strands, broth, veggies and then some, while they enjoy their own bowls of noodles. Despite being heavily layered in clothing, *warning* this is one steamy, saucy pic! XD

*For coming in 1st (in back-to-back years, no doubt), prar has won $100 via Paypal, or a prize of their choice up to that value.*

2.) @digitallyfanged​ - Tron Bonne and Megaman Volnutt

Ever the tease, Tabby’s Tron is wooing Volnutt with a sugary-sweet sensory overload at the hands of both her, and her Servbots. Or maybe at the head, too, based on that 2-tier strawberry cake that doubles as a hat on happy Servbot. While including so many treats were definitely eye candy in this piece, so too is Tron in that dress, causing Volnutt to deeply blush. 

The soft glow of the lighter transparency background, along with the usual shine of your lighting on the pair in the foreground, help them stand out. Even if my mouth is watering more at all the Servbot’s treats. Hahaha.

*For coming in 2nd, Tabby has won $50 via Paypal, or a prize of their choice up to that value.*

3.) @irischroma​ - Nana

Nana is ready to split her banana split sundae with you. I see what you did there. Your mission is to follow her every command as she feeds you, in her bonus rpg/sim screencap. I really liked the use of multiple halftones to accent the shading on both her and the background of the full image. The background itself is really cool, to incorporate the ice cream mounds, syrup and sprinkles, which also actually align nicely with the sprinkles on her apron. Truly adorbs.

*For coming in 3rd, Iris has won $25 via Paypal, or a prize of their choice up to that value*

And the remaining wonderful entries, in alphabetical order by alias:

@bracedshark​ - Marino

The first entry to embrace food-themed clothing, Marino is the living embodiment of the chocolate peppermint sundae she is holding. I love mint chocolate chip ice cream, so Marino’s green hair and clothing accents fit that ice cream color perfectly. Also while tying in your traditional peppermints as accessories on her, as well as the sort of melty pinkish mascara dripping down the side of her cheeks. 

*Bracedshark is the winner of Raffle Prize #1 - The cel of Duo*

@drewblossom​ - Ice Man and Roll

Another great use of food-styled clothing, Drew made a precious cinnamon roll dress for Roll, and an ice cream cone vest with a more whipped topping trim for Ice Man. Ice’s hair also adds to that whipped cream feel, yet despite dancing around, does a good job keeping that cherry from falling off the top of his head. XD This is a super cute scene, and has even better apparel style. 

*Drew is also the winner of Raffle Prize #4 - The Tamashii Nations Zero figure and Zero emblem wristband*

@hyperbole1729​ - Tundra Man, Top Man, Snow Robbit and Eye Ice

The first of two yummy cookie entries, which I’ll assume were baked around the same time, feature both real world treats, and 2D ones. I give Hyperbole big props for making the Snow Robbit and Eye Ice enemies into cookie shape form. They look super delicious, and I’m a guy who loves cookies with tons of frosting. XD Taking the pic on a wintry snowflake plate makes them stand out even more, so I totally loved your creativity with that. 

That baking didn’t only take place in Hyperbole’s kitchen, as Tundra and Top also spent the day making the same treats. I think their cookie cutter shapes have given me a clue to how you made yours. LOL Very cute!

*Hyperbole is the winner of Raffle Prize #3 - The Zero plush and framed X 3D sprite art*

@larytello​ - Zero and Ciel

Strawberry cake seemed to be the most popular choice of romantic treats, and here lary has Zero feeding Ciel her slice. Your digital airbrush shading has really improved, and it shows in this piece! It really gives a nice depth and definition to their arms and legs, not to mention the folds in Ciel’s dress, or the shine off of their helmets. Even with the heavily pink background, with all the hearts, they both still stand out nicely against it, despite their color schemes. Super cute!

@papillonthepirate​ - Roll.EXE

Our other real world food entry is a sugar frosted Roll.EXE cookie, complete with rosy cheek sprinkles and lemon-flavored ribbon candy antennae attached to her. Again, like Hyperbole’s submission, Papillon had the perfect heart decal plate design to help accentuate her creation, along with the doily it’s sitting on. I’m sure she was delicious! I appreciate the extra creativity taking the theme of the contest literally and making an actual tasty Mega Man character treat!

@peach35​ - X and Zero

A very cute scene of X and Zero sharing desert and a drink with swirly-shape sippy straws at a quaint little bistro off the shores of Dopple Town. And I’d imagine the pair of strawberries left snuggling on the table also sort of symbolize the hunter couple cuddling up after their cake and conversation, too. Pardon the pun, but I like the slice of life feel to the scene, that sort of gives it this Norman Rockwell-styled feel. The detail on your strawberries and lemon slices really turned out quite great; they look pretty real!

SockMonkii - Ashe

Ashe is so busy devouring that chocolate/strawberry filled cake slice, I don’t know if she fully realizes how much she has missed on her face. XD In fact, I think she’s likely eyeing the rest of the whole cake as the booty she’s after, rather than of any admirer. LOL The ribbon and bow background, along with all the hearts, help emphasize the cake as a romantic gift. Again, I see a lot of growth and improvement in your art style after a year’s time, and I think this pic turned out great!

@star-crossed-swords​ - Blues and Tempo

While definitely a sweet and romantic drawing, this entry felt like it fit in more with last year’s humor category theme, Beauty and the Beastman.EXE, that I almost wondered if you got mixed up with an older contest post. ^^; So I decided to go with the assumption that Quake Woman/Tempo had something delicious leftover on her hand that Blues was kissing off of her, to fit it within the content requirements. :D Their formalwear looks very nice on both of them. I like the sparkles on her dress coordinating with the starry sky outside the window. 

SubZeroIceSkater - Tundra Man

I totally read that tagline in Tundra Man’s voice. And the more bittersweet, the more pure chocolate, so it sounds good to me! Containing most of his stage enemies in cacao form, this box of chocolates is like a your chances at an extra life in item roulette. You never know what you’re gonna get. That’s sort of reverse Forrest Gump logic...right? I love how the box is designed just like his helmet’s rupee with icicles protruding, along with all the beautiful sparkling snowflakes and hearts in the background. I want a box, badly!

#Rockman #Megaman #Mega Man #Rock Miyabi's 2019 Megaman Valentine's Day Contest #Fanart Contest #Too many tags to list

[kpoptart216]

Betting on You (pt 5)

Previous Parts: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 

A/n: this part is mostly fluff. I wrote this entirely on my phone and will post the previous partsater but it’s also found on my Masterlist in my bio!

Taehyung started browsing for tickets to Hawaii as soon as his friends left. He knew you wanted to go to Hawaii as well, and he was happy that he found a good gift.

A few hours later, he spared no expense as he booked the best resort in Maui among various other things. He knew you would be excited, at least he hoped you would. He didn’t know it himself, but trying to get you to laugh and smile had become a priority. Though, Taehyung would never admit that himself.

• • • • • •

After a long day at work, you dug your phone out of your purse only to find a handful of messages from your boyfriend. No matter how exhausted you were, you already had a smile on your face and you didn’t even know what had texted yet.

He knew you had a long day at work and he asked if you both could just have a nice night in, watching more movies. Movie nights became frequent since you both were busy with work, but it was some of the best dates you both had. Especially since you’d both end up just talking for most of it anyways. You’d either go to his place, and play with Yeontan most of the time which annoyed Taehyung without doubt, or he’d go to your place and cuddle you as you both watched some random movie.

Tonight, he claimed he wanted cuddles uninterrupted by Yeontan so he was going to come to your place with food in hand. Your boyfriend really was a godsend, you thought with a smile on your face.

By the time you both ate and settled into the movie, you were already drowsy with sleep. Taehyung could see your eyes begin to swoop and he tried to hide a laugh. You looked pretty cute trying not to fall asleep, he had to admit.

But, you were out by the time the movie was even halfway done and Taehyung didn’t really feel like finishing it. He set your laptop to the side and slowly moved you off of his chest as he tried to lay you down in a comfortable position. He didn’t want to wake you up, not after such a long day at work.

As he set you down, he also reached for things and placed a kiss on your forehead as usual before leaving.

This time however, a smile graced your lips.

“You don’t have to leave you know” you say, drowsily.

“You’re awake?” He asks, kinda shocked.

“I like your forehead kisses” you admit, still smiling with your eyes closed. “But you don’t have to leave every time you’re over, you know. You can always just sleep here if you want” you say, hoping he’d stay the night and cuddle with you longer.

“Are you sure? Will you be uncomfortable?” Taehyung asks. He didn’t know what came over him but he got a little excited at your request. He never, ever spent the night at a girls place since he didn’t want to give them the wrong idea. He always made it back to his place no matter how tired he was. So he didn’t quite understand why he got excited like a little child.

“I mean, you’re not going to do anything right?” You ask, jokingly. You trusted him. You knew he would never do anything to make you uncomfortable.

“No! I’ll be good!” Taehyung says like a child. “I didn’t want to drive back to my place anyways” he said, as a matter of fact.

“Well then get in here you big goof” you say as you lift the covers. He quickly jumped into bed and pulled you close to him. And before you knew it, you were both fast asleep in pure comfort.

This routine continued the following days as well. You’d either spend the night at his place, much to Yeontans happiness or he’d spend the night at your place. He even left a few of his clothes in your closet. It wasn’t what he was expecting when he thought of getting intimate with you, but this was new. This was...nice.

Taehyung managed to iron out the last bit of details for the surprise trip to Hawaii and now tomorrow was your birthday. He even got Yumi in on the plan and he somehow managed to convince your boss to give you the next week off. It’s amazing how much you could get away with when you were Kim Taehyung, future heir of Kim Enterprises.

Taehyung ended up taking you out for a nice dinner the night before your birthday, claiming he had an important meeting the next day. You seemed upset that you couldn’t spend your actual birthday with him, but you knew he was trying his best to make it up to you. Or at least, so you thought.

He took you to dinner and your favorite ice cream joint. You both then continued to walk along the Han river, hand in hand. Though it was simple, it was the best birthday you had in a long time.

You both eventually made it back to your place and Taehyung insisted on staying the night, at least wanting to wake up with you on your big day. You didn’t have it in you to say no.

You went to smile with a big smile on your face as you you thought about all your birthday celebrations with Taehyung. And Taehyung fell asleep with the anticipation of surprising you tomorrow morning.

Taehyung woke up to your sleeping figure next to him and he couldn’t wait to see the look on your face. He quietly got out of bed and went to grab your present that he had stashed away in his car. It was far too early to be up, but he had to get his plan rolling in action now.

Thankfully when he was back, you were still fast asleep. He set the little gift bag on the side of the best as he sat down beside you. He kissed your cheek multiple times, hoping to wake you up this way and fortunately it worked.

You had a big smile on you face as you felt Taehyung kiss you awake. “Good morning to you too” you say.

You could still feel his breath on your cheek, telling you he was still quite close to your face. Your eyes were still closed as he planted more and more kisses around your face, making you a giggling mess.

“Happy Birthday, princess” he says with his low voice that your heart skipped a beat. You finally open one eye to see the handsome man sitting in front of you and you quickly shut it again as you hide under the covers.

“Hey! Don’t hide!!” Taehyung says, laughing as he pulls the covers away. “Fine then, you won’t get your gift” he says as you pull the covers back over you.

You quickly toss the covers to the side and sit up. “Gift? What gift?” You joke, genuinely not expecting anything. You were never one to care about birthday gifts, but you were elated that your boyfriend had thought of you when he bought you something.

“Well, open if for yourself” he says as he hands you the sapphire blue gift bag. Your eyes widen in surprise, realizing he had actually bought you something.

You quickly take out the paper littered in the bag and toss it to the side of the bed in a flash. Taehyung could only chuckle at your eagerness.

The first thing you pulled out was a beautiful pink floral dress. You loved the shade of pink and admired the design as you ran your hands through the dress. “It’s beautiful, thank you!” You say, excitedly. Sure, it was more of a summer dress but you loved it.

“There’s more silly, keep going. Open the letter last” he instructs.

The next thing you pull out is none other than a small jewelry box. Inside were beautiful gold earrings, shaped like shells. “Oh my, Taehyung it’s beautiful” you admire. You weren’t exactly sure what significance the shells held, but you couldn’t care less, the earrings were beautiful.

“Ok keep looking” Taehyung says with a smile. Your reaction so far already made everything worth it.

You dig through the bag and finally feel something at the bottom. You yank it out to find...flip flops?

“Oh uh, they’re great! Thank you?” You say, slightly confused. You hadn’t wore flip flops in years, but you knew Taehyung had interesting fashion choices so you didn’t say anything else, just admiring the shoes in all it’s glory.

Taehyung only continued to chuckle. He couldn’t care less about the flip flops, he just saw them last minute and tossed them into the gift bag. He wasn’t even sure he got you the right size. “Ok now open the letter!!” He says, getting too excited.

You open the envelope, hoping to find a cute birthday card, but instead, you pull out two pieces of paper. It takes you a hot second to register what was written on both pieces of paper but when it finally hits you that they’re tickets for Hawaii, your jaw drops.

“Tae, is this..?” You start, not able to believe it.

“Real? Yes!” He says laughing.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe this! But wait, this ticket is for...later today?!” You ask in suprise.

“Yup! I had Yumi already pack your bags” he said, proudly.

“Is that what she was doing sneaking into my room? That troll. But Tae, I have work...”you say sadly.

“Don’t worry about it, your boss gave you the week off. You should even have a confirmation email in your inbox this morning. Don’t worry about all that ok? I’ve been planning this trip for so long, you don’t think i didn’t think of work?” He asks.

“We’re really going to Hawaii? Like today? Like in a few hours??” You ask, wondering if you were still in dreamland.

“Yes we are princess. I suggest you go get ready now or we’re going to miss the plane!” He says, holding out his hand for you so that you can finally jump out of bed. You take his hand jump into his arms, giving him the biggest hug you could muster at the moment.

“Thank you so much” you say into his shoulder. Taehyung simply rocks you back in forth in s tight embrace.

“Anything for you, beautiful” he says, loving how happy you were.

• • • • • • • • • • • •

Soon enough, you both were in Hawaii. You couldn’t contain your excitement as the plane landed, and you kept staring out the window like a little kid. And to be honest, Taehyung was excited to be back here too. Especially since you were here too.

By the time you both got to the resort though, you both were exhausted from the long journey from Korea. You threw yourself onto the huge bed before finally taking in your surroundings. This room was...huge?

“Wow this hotel has huge rooms” you think aloud, sitting up.

“Actually...it’s the presidential suite” Taehyung says as he rubs the back of his neck.

“W-what?” You ask, shocked. “Why would you book this suite?! It must cost fortunes!” You say, loudly.

“I think you’re forgetting who I am sweetheart. I only wanted the best for you” Taehyung pours.

“Awh, babe. Thank you. Honestly though, any room would have sufficed” you say. “We could be sitting in my room back home with a Hawaii background on my laptop and even that would be perfect” You say honestly.

Taehyung could only laugh. “Well I already booked everything so no turning back now. What do you want to do now?” He asks. Tomorrow he had a full day planned ahead so he wanted you to decide what to do now. Fortunately the resort was beachfront and you both had an incredible view of the beach.

“How about a stroll on the beach? And we can come back and eat dinner and head to bed. I’m pretty tired” you say, already wanting to just sleep.

“Sounds great. You can wear your flip flops!!” Taehyung says, already going to pull them out of your suitcase. He stuffed it in along with thendress and earrings at the last minute as you were showering earlier that morning.

You only laugh as you put them on, loving how they fit you perfectly. “They fit like a charm” you say, admiring your tiny feet. Taehyung takes your hand as you both walk towards the beach.

The rest of the evening was peaceful and you both shared lots of laughs as you talked like usual. “I can’t believe we’re actually here” you say, facing the ocean.

“You didn’t think I didn’t have anything planned for your birthday did you?” Asks tawhyung, faking hurt.

“I honestly never celebrate my birthday like this. But I’m glad we’re here and doing this. This has been the best birthday ever, Tae. Thank you, again”

“Im glad you’re enjoying yourself princess. But we should get to bed, we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow!” He says. He could see the sleep in your eyes and he’s pretty sure his eyes mirror your own.

The following day truly was packed. You chose to wear the floral dress Taehyung picked out for you and Taehyung praised himself for making the right choice in dress. The dress highlighted all of your curves and the shade of pink accented your skin perfectly. And you even wore the earrings! After a nice breakfast at the hotel, Taehyung took you on a private helicopter tour around the island and you were in awe the entire time. Taehyung couldn’t help but look at you the entire time though. Even the helicopter pilot noticed and joked around. “You can’t stop staring at your beautiful lady young man!” He said with a hearty laugh.

After that, Taehyung took you to lunch at one of his favorite poke joints and then took you to a private beach. The beach was practically empty and you spent hours just playing around in the water and sand. You made sure to take a million pictures too.

Towards the evening, both of you made it back to the city and decided to shop around a bit. You found lots of tiny little souvenirs for Yumi and a few colleagues at work. It always amazed Taehyung how you always thought of others first.

Finally, Taehyung dragged you to a luau for dinner. You two had fun watching the others dance and you had even more fun when Taehyung insisted on both of you dancing on stage too. Today was truly so perfect and you got chocked up when you thought of how thoughtful Taehyung was towards you.

“Today was absolutely amazing. I didn’t think we would be doing so much today, but I had so much fun” you say as you both sat at the bed back in the hotel. You marveled at the size of the bed and you laughed when our realized how little space you and Taehyung actually ended up using since he always held you when you both slept.

“I had fun too, it was like seeing everything for the first time” Taehyung said honestly. It was fun seeing the island through your eyes. He was pretty tired himself, but he was glad he still had a few days to relax with you before going back to Korea.

While he was caught up in his thoughts, you place a kiss on his cheek which always seemed to catch him off guard.

“Don’t I deserve a little more than that?” Taehyung jokes but you couldn’t agree more. You lean in and pull him closer to you as you place a warm kiss on his soft lips.

“Thank you baby” you say against his lips, and it sends shivers down his spine. He couldn’t get enough of your kisses though so he locked his lips with yours once again.

Of course, things got heated once again. He didn’t even realize it, but soon you were on his lap and straddling him. You were intoxicating and he didn’t know much longer he could hold his resolve around you. It had been four months since you two started “dating” and Taehyungs craving for you only intensified each day.

But the second he heard the smallest moan from you, he snapped back into reality and remembered that he shouldn’t lose control. He pulled away from you but his hands still held your waist.

“I’m sorry princess, I got carried away” he said. He didnt have it in him to look at your face because he knew he’s just kiss you again. “It’s getting harder to stop” he half jokes. But you knew.

“Then don’t” you say. That’s all it takes for his head to whip up and look you in the eyes. “Don’t stop then” you say with a shy smile as you wrap your hands around his neck.

“Y/n I-“ he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to take advantage of you but at the same time he didn’t know how much longer he could hold on with you sitting on his lap and looking at him with your doe eyes.

“I want to be with you. Please?” You ask, your voice breaking slightly at the end. “I trust you Tae, and I want to be with you baby, Hhm?” You try again, slightly louder this time affirming your confidence in the situation.

Taehyung searches your eyes as if there was another answer hidden in there but he could only see how honest you were being.

“I trust you and want to be with you, ok?” You say once again. Taehyung only nods, not able to form the appropriate words in the situation. He felt, honored, in that moment. And he knew, that you deserved better but any last bit of resolve he had had dissolved the second you kissed him again, more hungry this time.

Taehyung laid you on the bed as he hovered over you. “I’ll be gentle, ok? But we can stop anytime, don’t for a second feel pressured to do anything ok?” He assures you.

You simply smile and nod at him and if Taehyung wished time stopped in that moment because he wanted to paint a picture of you in his head and remember it.

He kissed you once again and this time, he didn’t let go till morning.

#bts scenarios #bts #bts texts #bts reactions #bts fanfic #bts series #bts imagines #bangtan sonyeondan #bangtan #bts angst #bts fluff #kpop angst #kpop fluff #kpop scenairos #kpop reactions #kpop texts #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff #taehyung scenario #bts v #kim taehyung

[fox-and-benedict]

[Fanfic, 100% OJ] Awkward, part 2

Series: 100% OJ / Suguriverse Words: 2372 Characters: Sora, Nath, Suguri, Hime Originally posted: March 31 2017 (link here) A/N: Sequel to Awkward. I commissioned Coffgirl for some cover art, and this was the first story that used it. Unlike on blogspot, I won’t post the cover art every time (since it takes up a lot of dash space and I don’t know how to format it very well yet), but it’s lovely art.

It was morning in the Suguri household. Birds were singing, eggs were frying, and Hime was as close to dressed as she was going to get. Suguri had surprised her earlier in the week with a gloriously fluffy pink dressing gown; Hime had very quickly decided that an existence spent wrapped in luscious softness was better than the alternative, and resolved to wear it at all points in time.

Suguri herself was still very much asleep, draped diagonally over the bed. When they ‘acquired’ Sora, Hime had been banished from her bean-bag sleeping spot and installed in Suguri’s bed, with a pillow wall for propriety. She had quickly discovered that Suguri was a very mobile sleeper, who tossed and turned until she finally came to a rest, star-shaped, with her silvery hair fanned out underneath her. The pillow wall, it turned out, was a meaningless formality; one way or another, Hime usually woke up with her friend snoozing on top of her.

Sora, on the other hand, was as still as a mountain when she slept. Whatever position she was in when she dropped off she would keep, and she occasionally settled in some very odd positions. Currently, she was kneeling on the floor with her head thrust face-first into the pillowy centre of her beanbag, snoring soundly. For the first few mornings after she arrived, Hime had tiptoed around her when making breakfast, but it soon became apparent that Sora woke up when she was good and ready, and no amount of noise or prodding would get her up any sooner.

The eggs were just about ready to be dumped out onto plates and married with thick, toasted bread when a knock came at the front door. Perhaps ‘knock’ was overly generous; it was more of a thump, which seemed to reverberate around the walls of the entire house. For a moment, Hime thought it might have been a visit from the postman, which to her was akin to being visited by the stork. It simply never happened. They lived too far off the beaten path, and whatever authorities were in their district were either friends of Suguri’s or were smart enough not to bother her.

“Yes, yes! I’m coming. You don’t need to kick the door down,” she called as she plated up breakfast and trotted through the living room, lightly balancing Sora’s plate on her back as she passed. Sora continued to snore, no doubt exploring the mysterious space inside her own head.

Hime didn’t know what she had been expecting when she opened the door. A lost traveller, perhaps, whose car broken down on the road, with whom she would embark on a wonderful adventure into the world of automobile repair, or potentially a misguided religious missionary who, like a sunflower turning its face towards the sun, would gratefully drink in her attention. She hadn’t been expecting Nath.

“I apologise for kicking your door,” Nath said. She had, unintentionally, begun to loom. She was tall, and habitually stood with her back perfectly straight, a look of careful neutrality stuck like glue to her features; looming was something of an occupational hazard for her.

Luckily, Hime was not a girl to be loomed at. She looked up at Nath’s impassive face, at her armless shoulders, and favoured her with a glittering smile. “I suppose I can forgive you, this once. Do you need a hand? Or two, as the case may be?”

Nath blinked. The number of people in the world who were brave enough to steal her joke right in front of her was very low. “I’m looking for Sora,” she said. Then, after a pause: “She has my nose.”

“I… see. Well, you’re certainly missing something, but your nose is still very much attached, as far as I can tell. I suppose I’m not an expert on the matter, though. How do you two know each other?”

Nath found herself caught between conflicting emotions. On some level, she realised that this was how other people felt when she made jokes about her limb deficiencies: they didn’t know quite how to respond to the joke. But on the other hand, she couldn’t help but like somebody as charming, fearless, and therefore dangerous, as Hime was proving herself to be.

“We tried to kill each other ten thousand years ago. Then we met again the other week. I told her where to find spoons. She stole my nose.”

Hime nodded, wondering privately if everybody from the past used the same strange type of dream-logic that Sora and her friend seemed to function on. “I see. She is here, but she’s asleep at the moment.”

“When are you expecting her to wake up? This year, or later?” Nath asked, concern worming its way onto her face.

“Well, I was rather hoping she’d be awake in the next ten minutes, or her else her breakfast will get cold.”

“Acceptable.” She paused. “I’m Nath.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Hime,” the blonde said, her smile still sparkling. “Tell me, Nath. If I were to – on a whim – poke your cheeks right now, would you be able to do anything about it?”

“I suppose I couldn’t stop you,” Nath replied, her eyes narrowing, “but I might hurt you afterwards.”

“Hmhmhm. You might try. Come in, some in,” she said, beckoning with her hand. “We have eggs and toast and cocoa, the breakfast of gods.”

Inside, Nath found the house as confusing as she had found Hime. There was a barstool upside down on the kitchen table. A wicker chair had been colonised by some strange, fabric monster nested in the corner of the room. There was what appeared to be half a door with a table leg glued on, resting by near the kitchen; Nath assumed it had led to the pantry, but had been replaced with a bookcase on rollers. On closer inspection, the books contained seemed to be split evenly between the subjects of pirates and baking.

From deep within the heart of her beanbag, Sora moaned. “Himeeeeeeee. There’s something on my back.”

“Oh, you’re awake! Good morning, Sora. It’s a plate of food. How will you get yourself out of this predicament with your breakfast intact, I wonder?” Hime teased cheerfully.

“Uuuuuuuuuu.”

Nath watched incredulously as Sora began, slowly and carefully, to shimmy the plate down the length of her own back, until it was perched neatly on her bottom. With a quick jerk of her hips, she sent it skyward; then, like a cat righting itself in the middle of a fall, she flipped herself over and shot her hands up to catch the plate before any of the precious breakfast had left it. “Safe.”

“Bravo,” Hime said, and threw a knife and fork at her underarm. Sora plucked them out of the air with barely a thought, and began to munch on some toast. “You have a guest, by the way.”

Nath stepped forward, considerably less sure of herself than she was. She had intended to drop by, ascertain Sora’s location, engage in a little small talk about times past and then leave the girl to her own devices; still, she clung resolutely to her excuse for being there. “I have come to take my nose back.”

Sora stood up and looked at her. There was a peaceful smile on her face, but Nath had no idea what was going on inside her head. Her eyes gave no indication; they were like black holes that sucked in logic and spat out mystery. After a moment of thought, she held out a bite of fried egg on her fork. 

“Ahhhhhh.”

“Wh...ah. No thank you.”

Sora gestured impatiently with the fork. “Yes.”

“No.”

A moment’s pause. “I’ll wrestle you.”

“…Ugh. Fine,” Nath said, and rolled her eyes. Sora gently pressed the fork to her lips.

“Good?” Sora asked as Nath began to chew.

“Ish good,” Nath mumbled, grudgingly. She fought the urge to blush.

“My goodness,” Hime giggled. “That was magical. It was like seeing a unicorn.”

Nath had a glare that could weld steel girders, and she focused it directly on Hime’s forehead. Hime continued to smile, utterly unfazed. Meanwhile, Sora held out another bite of egg on the fork. “This is getting out of hand,” she muttered.

Her saviour came in the form of slippers on the stairs, an incomprehensible mumbling that came down from on high. Suguri had descended, warm and happy, one foot in the waking world and one still in the world of blissful sleep. She peered around the living room with bleary, half-closed eyes; details were lovely, but they could wait. Important things needed her attention, and one thing was more important than the rest.

“Hug.”

Nath watched, dumbstruck, as a silver-haired girl she didn’t know shuffled towards her, arms outstretched. Nothing that had happened today had made any sense. Hime wasn’t afraid of her – her, a former ultimate weapon. Sora operated on strange rules that were never explained. Now she was going to be the victim of an arbitrary hug attack. Luckily, Sora stepped forward to intercept her assailant. Gently, but firmly, the blonde-haired soldier turned Suguri around until she was pointing in Hime’s direction, and set her loose.

“Fluffy,” Suguri mumbled as she collapsed into her morning hug.

“Yes, yes,” Hime replied, nuzzling the top of her friend’s head. “You know, I sometimes wonder if you bought this dressing gown for my benefit, or for yours.”

Nath looked at Sora, who had long hair and made no sense to her, and at Suguri, who had long hair and made no sense to her, and then at Hime, who seemed to be thoroughly enjoying herself. “You have two of them?” she asked.

“For my sins.”

“It’s as if you collect girls with long hair,” Nath remarked coolly.

“It’s not that I collect girls with long hair. It’s that this one collects blondes,” Hime chuckled, motioning at the girl in her arms. “Or perhaps Sora is collecting the world’s strongest women?”

Sora neither confirmed or denied it, which raised a lot of possibilities that didn’t bear thinking about. Instead, she turned to Nath. “Are you okay? You look confused.”

Nath frowned, and tried to marshal her words in a way that wouldn’t ignite a conflict. “Well… I do find the situation a little disarming,” she said. Suguri snorted. Good. It was enough. “I came because you invited me, but I don’t really know what I wanted. Other than my nose back, of course. I’m missing enough body parts.” This time, it was Hime’s turn to snort. “I… don’t really know how to react to this.”

Sora put a finger to her lips, allowing the words to turn over in her head. “Maybe you wanted to talk about the war?”

“Maybe. But I also don’t want to talk about the war. Or think about it,” Nath frowned. “I don’t know. When I look at you, Sora, it’s so obvious that you’ve changed. But I don’t feel like I’ve changed at all.”

For another moment, Sora was silent. Then she brought her gaze level with Nath’s. Such green eyes. Deep, and unfathomable. Oceans, unexplored. Didn’t humans once believe that above the sky there was an ocean, the boundary of heaven? But they weren’t blank. They had been, in days gone past. “You make bad jokes. That’s one change.”

“One change in ten thousand years is fine for geology, but not for people,” Nath said ruefully. Her own eyes were still the same as they had been in the war. The view in the mirror had not changed.

Whether Nath was right or wrong, she didn’t get far in her thoughts. Sora crossed the room in two quick strides, quietly and without warning; one moment she was clutching a plate of breakfast, and the next she was throwing her arms around Nath’s shoulders, pulling her into a clumsy embrace. She was strong, and warm, and closer than anybody had dared to come for thousands of years.

“Nath. We should be friends,” Sora said, with the certainty that runs through dreams. “We didn’t get to be friends during the war. That can be change number two.”

Something deep inside Nath was trembling. Wobbling, like a top that had been spinning for far, far too long, supporting itself through momentum and nothing more. The feeling was terrifying. The future was terrifying. But it was inevitable, and inevitably, she fell.

“I suppose that is acceptable,” she said, and buried her face in Sora’s hair. She didn’t want Hime to see her expression. This moment was private, for them alone.

The hug lasted half a minute more before Sora’s arms slackened, and she set Nath free to muster some dignity. She turned towards Hime and Suguri, bubbling with excitement. “Suguri, Suguri. It worked. I hugged her and we’re friends now. It’s like magic.”

“Ahahaha… Sora, please don’t take Suguri as an example of how to make friends. Her methods are unique, shall we say,” Hime replied, although the look on her face made it clear she would have it no other way. She caught Nath’s eye, and brushed her hand over her mouth: I shall say nothing, for now.

“Ahem. Well. I should probably go now. I have some errands to run,” Nath said, abruptly. She could feel the warm blood rushing to her cheeks. “We’ll meet again, Sora.”

“I still have your nose.”

“Keep it, for now. If I can get along without fingers, a missing nose should be fine,” Nath replied, rolling her eyes.

“We should meet at your house next time.”

“Although you’re more than welcome to visit us again,” Hime chimed in. “That said, it might be an idea to come later in the day next time. The house makes a little more sense in the afternoon.”

Nath shook her head, laughing. The idea that anything about this house could make sense seemed unlikely. Bookcase doors, breakfast acrobatics, green-eyed girls who didn’t say what they were thinking and left you to fill in the gaps. It was chaos, but a very peaceful kind of chaos. A smile played around her lips as she said, with what she realised was total honesty:

“I suppose I’ll get used to it.”

A/N: Nath didn’t use many contractions at first, huh? Obviously it’s character development that she uses more of them as time goes on. She’s getting comfortable with the people around her. It’s not that I entirely forgot about it. Not at all.

#fanfic #100% orange juice #Suguri (series) #Sora #Nath #Suguri #Hime #sequel