#general and it's rude to interrupt and start a new one or like that's where people join and get assigned so basically general is super

[strang3lov3]

Lather

(Inspired by our curly, long-haired Pedro with his broken wing) When Joel injures his shoulder, he needs your help washing his hair and getting off 🧴🧻💦🧼🚿🛀(4k)

Part one of a new mini series!!

Tags- shoulder injury, forced proximity, hair washing, handjobs, blowjobs, Joel finishes little too early, sexual tension, masturbation, pissed off joel, impish reader as per ushe. Joel starts out soft and gentle, this will not last long. Just you wait for part two, mwahahahahah!!

A/N- This new series is written for and inspired by my very dear friend @noxturnalpascal , please do not eat Pedro’s fucking hair. I’m begging you. And thank you @tightjeansjavi for the title name!!

Generously edited by my dear friend, the lovely @papipascalispunk

You’re at the dinner table, watching Joel awkwardly cut his chicken and potatoes with the side of his fork, held by his left hand. He brings the food to his mouth kind of slowly, deliberately, like he has to consciously think about where his fork will end up. He catches your watchful gaze and looks at you, “What?”, he scowls.

You shrug, “Nothing.”

“Quit lookin’ at me,” he huffs, “Creep.”

You’ve been living in Jackson with Joel and Ellie for quite some time now. Ellie’s got the garage and the downstairs bathroom to herself, you and Joel live in separate bedrooms upstairs. It works out. Kind of. The stairs are an issue. They’re old and steep, kind of slippery. It was only a matter of time before someone slipped and fell, and last week, that’s exactly what Joel did. Early one morning, he had misstepped and totally ate shit, landing hard on his right shoulder. You rushed to help him, but Joel shrugged you off, insisting he was fine. But you could hear in his voice he wasn’t, how he strained to speak. And in the following days, you noticed how his routine changed in the aftermath of his injury. He’s been favoring his right arm heavily, eating, cooking, opening doors, picking things up all with his left hand, rarely his right. 

Ellie gets up from the table to rinse her plate. When she passes you and Joel on her way back to the garage, she stops next to Joel and just stares at him, a look of confusion and disgust on her face. She reaches her hand forward, pushing her fingers slowly through his hair and watching the curls stand up straight. Joel freezes before turning to look at her, perplexed and irritated. “What’s the matter with you?”, he asks. 

“Gross,” Ellie giggles, still playing with his hair. He swats her hand away. 

“Yeah, shut up,” Joel grumbles, “You’ll have gray hair one day too. It ain’t that funny.”

“I’m not talking about the color. Your hair is disgusting, Joel. It’s like, sticking straight up. Are you hydrophobic or something?”

“Leave me alone,” Joel tells her, “Go do something. Go play in traffic.”

“You smell like you’re hydrophobic,” Ellie retorts as she continues towards her room. 

You turn your attention back to Joel, who looks insulted. Subtly, he turns his nose to his armpit to smell himself and then checks his reflection in the window, using his left hand to mess with his curls. He notices you staring at his reflection as well, “Don’t you know it’s rude to stare?”, he asks defensively as he messes with his hair a little more, flipping the mess to one side of his head, then to the other, rubbing the strands between his fingers. Joel sighs deeply then, gets up from his seat, and – using his left arm – he drags his chair across the kitchen and sets it in front of the kitchen sink. “I need help,” he confesses in a tone hardly audible, like he’s sheepish and uncomfortable. Disappointed, too. 

“What?”

“Washin’ my hair,” he speaks louder this time, “It’s hard with my uh…shoulder. I need your help.” 

“Took you long enough to as–”

“Knock it off,” he interrupts. It was probably around day four post-staircase incident that you noticed Joel’s hair taking on a more dirty appearance. You stare at his hair a lot lately now that he’s growing it out for winter. His hair curls in all sorts of directions, little cowlicks all over his head. The ringlets at the bottom of his neck are your favorite part. How gorgeous they look with the multitude of colors on his head. Deep, chocolatey brown with highlights of caramel and silvery gray streaks. With resources being fairly scarce even in Jackson, Joel doesn’t wash his hair every day, which is honestly fine for him. However, the days that he does wash his hair, he struggles to scrub his scalp properly with just his left hand, hence the dirty and greasy appearance. And really, it doesn’t look that bad. Probably feels worse for him, though, all that schmutz built up. Probably itchy and uncomfortable. 

You take your plate to the kitchen sink and give it a quick wash before drying it and putting it away. Joel sits in the chair he’s placed in front of the sink, and reaches behind himself for the dish soap, then kind of just puts it in your hand. You look at Joel, tilting your head in confusion. Sure, it's slim pickings for resources, but there’s a reason you’re close with the soapmaker here in Jackson. It’s the little things that keep you going; one of the little things being fruity scented shampoo that the soapmaker hooks you up with. 

You place the soap back on the kitchen counter and leave quickly to grab your shampoo, then come back to meet Joel at the sink. Joel looks at the bottle of shampoo in your hand, “What the hell is that?”, he asks. 

“My shampoo. It smells kinda like strawberries, see?”, you open the cap and squeeze the bottle to waft the scent towards him.

 Joel scrunches his nose, “It’s too girly.”

“You’re too girly,” you taunt, and Joel rolls his eyes. “Beggars can’t be choosers. I’m washing your hair, so I get to pick the shampoo. It’s like a spa night,” you chirp happily. 

“Nope, not a spa night,” he replies harshly, “Just wash my damn hair. No funny business.” When you stare down at him, unimpressed with his attitude, Joel backtracks, “Please,” he begs. 

“Spa night.”

“Fine,” Joel sighs in defeat and leans his head back into the sink, scooting down the chair. He looks deeply uncomfortable already, putting his weight on the left side of his body and raising his shoulder up and away from resting on the sink. Poor guy. You turn on the sink and begin to run the water over his scalp with the detachable faucet, but Joel yelps in pain. “Hot, s’ way too hot,” he says loudly, craning his neck away from the stream. 

“Sorry,” you apologize, quickly turning the faucet lever in the other direction. 

“Cold, cold, Christ—cold,” Joel hisses as he reaches behind himself to try to haphazardly adjust the lever himself, swatting his hand violently. He ends up hitting your hand instead, resulting in you dropping the faucet on his forehead. He yelps again and quickly sits up straight, water flinging across the room from his wet hair. “This isn’t gonna work,” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Think we need to get this over with in the shower.”

“I think that’d work better,” you agree. 

So, you and Joel make your way upstairs, you’ve got your fruity shampoo in your hand. Joel’s wet hair drips down his neck and back as you follow him towards the bathroom where he turns on the shower, letting the water warm up. He shuts and locks the bathroom door before unbuttoning his flannel, again with his left hand only. Turning away from you, you watch Joel twitch and wince in pain as he tries to take off his undershirt. It kind of makes you sad, seeing him struggle like this. You wish he would have asked for help before now. “Joel?”, you tap his back. 

“Hm?”, Joel turns around and you reach his right arm. “Oh,” he says. Carefully, you do your best to painlessly help him out of his shirt, pulling his sleeve towards your body and keeping his arm as low as can be. You pull the rest of the shirt off of his body, catching a glimpse of his torso, his soft, pillowy belly. “Thanks,” he mumbles. 

“No problem.”

“I uh–,” Joel begins, turning away from you again and undoing his belt, “I’m gettin’ undressed and gettin’ in, okay?”

“Am I getting in there with you?”

“I’d reckon that’s probably easiest, yeah. And if ya don't wanna get your clothes wet, then you can take 'em off too,” Joel offers, “I don't wanna make you uncomfortable, so I'm keepin’ my eyes shut and facin’ the shower head the whole time so I don’t see anything I'm not ‘sposed to.”

“I appreciate that,” you reply. You’ve been through a lot with Joel, and truth be told, you’re both past the point of modesty, all that you’ve been through together. You have endless trust and respect for each other. Still though, you appreciate what he’s doing to keep you feeling safe and comfortable with him. A lot can be said about Joel, but he’s never been anything but respectful and considerate towards your safety and comfort. It doesn’t go unnoticed. “I’ll undress. Just give me a minute.”

“Not a problem,” Joel says. You face away from him as he takes off his belt, it lands with a clatter on the floor. Next his jeans and boxers, then each of his socks. You hear the sound of the shower curtain moving and his heavy footsteps in the bathtub. “M’done. Eyes stayin’ closed now.”

“Okay,” you say as you look at Joel through the shower curtain, unable to see much. You have no doubt he is, in fact, squeezing his eyes shut, but you smile to yourself when you notice where his arms lie. They’re resting across his body, his hands cupping his member securely. Oh, Joel. He’s a grump, but a gentleman nonetheless. 

After taking off your own clothes and leaving them in a pile on the floor, you move the shower curtain aside and step inside of the tub. It’s a tight fit, despite being relatively spacious. There’s a built-in bench to the side of the shower where your soaps sit. Joel always complains you have too many lotions and potions taking up space, that they always fall on his toes when he bathes. Dramatic. 

 Immediately you’re in awe of Joel’s beauty. You can’t see his face, but you can see his back, freckled and scarred and striped with stretch marks here and there. Water trails down his neck and his spine. You can’t help but steal a peek of his ass, so firm and plump. He’s blessed, truly. 

“Doin’ okay?”, Joel interrupts your thoughts. 

“Oh– yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Gonna shampoo you now.”

“Get to it,” he tells you. 

You reach for your strawberry shampoo and squeeze a small amount into the palm of your hand, then reach up to lather it into Joel’s scalp. “I need you–”, using your hands to guide Joel to tilt his head back, “Yeah, like that. Thanks.”

“Mm,” he hums in response.  

You begin to wash Joel’s hair, building up a thick lather of bubbles. You pay special attention to the sides of his head, down towards his neck, scratching and massaging his scalp. It’s almost imperceptible, but you hear a slight groan, a soft exhale of relief as you scrub Joel’s head. Washing the hair near his neck, you toy with his curls, wrapping them around your fingers and watching them bounce and swing when you pull your hands away. You’re about to reach for more shampoo when you really see it– the bruise on his shoulder. It’s yellowing now, but there are still purple and blue splotches of his skin. “Fuck, Joel,” you mumble, tracing your fingers lightly over his bruise.

“Yeah, yeah.”

It was an accident. You know this, so you’ll spare Joel from your long-winded lecturing about taking care of himself. Instead, you just press a soft kiss to his bruise. 

“You– I um–”, Joel clears his throat, a little bashful now, “Need you to wash up by my hairline, f’ya wanna come up front here.”

“Yeah, of course,” you speak softly. You begin to scoot past Joel, but the tight fit of the two of you in the shower makes it difficult to move. You slip and reach for Joel’s arm. 

“Careful,” he warns you softly, “Here, I gotcha.” Joel, still keeping his eyes shut, holds your waist and helps guide you to stand in front of him. When you’re situated, he quickly protects his modesty once again.

You grab some more shampoo and reach for the front of his scalp. This time, you can admire more of him. His face, eyes scrunched tightly shut. Careful not to look at what he’s not supposed to. That little line between his eyebrows is more deep and prominent than usual. Water drips down the slope of his aquiline nose and his plump, rosy lips. Droplets cling to his wiry salt and pepper facial hair. He’s a work of fucking art. When Joel’s properly shampooed, you reach for the detachable shower head and start to rinse his hair, watching the strands fall on his forehead. 

You’re not sure exactly what happens, but in an instant, Joel is unexpectedly groaning and reaching for the shower head from your hand. You step back and watch him scramble to wipe his eyes and blink quickly. “Fuckin’, ahh,” he hisses, “Got soap in my eyes. Jesus.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

“S’okay, was an accident. Fuck,” Joel hands you the shower head and then wipes his eyes a few more times before he stops and stares at you before him, not even thinking about his rule. Fuck. He shuts his eyes quickly, but the damage is done. His mind is swimming with images of your body, the drops of water rolling down the curves of your breasts, your hips, thighs. His cock hardens almost instantly, and he hurries to cover himself again. “Fuck. I’m sorry. It’s not cause of you.”

“Okay, Joel,” you reply calmly. 

Joel groans. “No, it’s not like that, you– you’re– it’s…My shoulder’s been hurtin’, y’know how it’s been.” 

 “Mhm,” you hum, knowing where he’s going with this, “It’s okay.”

“Haven’t been able to take care of myself, uh…in that regard,” Joel clears his throat before continuing, “So I’m just a little wound up– oh–”

Joel’s interrupted when you step forward, reaching for his wrists to pull them away from his member. “I get it,” you whisper, “I can help with that too, if you’d like.”

“Jesus, fuck–”, Joel hisses as you touch his hips, his thighs, skating your fingers along his skin. He moans softly when your fingers lightly touch his heavy balls, the base of his cock, then trailing them up his shaft. “Quit– fuck – quit teasing me, hon. Not a smart idea.”

“I’m not teasing you, Joel.” 

Except Joel’s not listening. All he can think about is how fucking good it feels to be touched where he needs it most. He reaches for your hand, but doesn’t pull it away. Like he’s at battle with himself, doing what he thinks he’s supposed to do, not that he actually wants to. He wraps his fingers around yours, encouraging you to grip his cock tightly. But with his brow furrowed, he looks conflicted. “Don’t know what’s gotten into ya, but–”, he says shakily, “Hon– you gotta stop cause, fuck–”, he breathes, “Don’t think I have it in me– fuck – to walk away from you.”

“You don’t have to, Joel,” you coo quietly as you grip his cock tighter. You lean closer to Joel, wrapping one of your arms around his waist. Joel opens his eyes then, and you kiss his cheek, still stroking his cock. His thick head is nudging your hip as you work him, “Why don’t you let me help you with this?”

Joel nods, sighing in relief as he gives into you, gives into pleasure.  He’s been hard as a rock all week. Left hand just doesn’t do the trick, but yours, your hand does just fine. “Lord have mercy,” he gasps, “Thank you.” Rubbing your hand up and down his cock, you kiss his neck, then lower, his collarbones and his chest. Lower still, sinking to your knees as you kiss down that soft and pillowy tummy of his, trailing your tongue along that patch of hair that leads to his cock. You take his thick base in one hand and his ass in the other, then press sloppy kisses to his blushed tip, flicking your tongue over his soft skin. “Sweetheart,” he warns softly, “Doin’ too much for me.” 

“I don’t think so,” you tell him innocently before trailing your tongue along a prominent vein of his cock. 

“I disagree,” he mumbles quietly. Oh, Joel. Silly Joel. As if you’d satisfy him with just your hands. But this is as much for you as it is for Joel. You’ve spent a lot of time daydreaming about him, kissing him and fucking him. He’s who you think about at night with your hand between your thighs. So no, taking him in your mouth is not too much. It’s what you both need. 

Joel hums sweetly as you guide him to your mouth, his thick head parting your lips. You toy with him, swirling, flicking your tongue, alternating between taking him deeply and more shallow in your mouth. He’s warm and thick, just like you imagined. His cock feels heavy in your mouth as you take him deeper and deeper, hollowing your cheeks to massage him. You love his smooth skin, how he squirms and his hips stutter when you slide his cock to the back of your throat. As he gains more confidence, he begins to draw in and out of your mouth slowly, an action encouraging to both you and himself. 

“Good god,” Joel groans as you work his shaft, one hand still squeezing his ass cheek, the other now fondling his balls, cupping and squeezing them gently. You hum against him, sending vibrations down his shaft. He reaches down, stroking your cheek with soft and warm eyes as you work him. His hand finds the back of your head, grunting as he inches you forward to take him deeper. 

 “Not lastin’ long the way you–”, he  chokes out, a stuttered string of profanities following as you feel his cock stiffen and twitch under your tongue, spurting hot ropes of his spend down your throat. It’s salty and warm and masculine, taking you by surprise. His orgasm surprises himself, too. You don’t mind, though. In fact, it’s flattering the way he’s come undone for you so quickly, so desperately. Poor Joel, so worked up and bent out of shape all week. Probably part of the reason he’s been so cranky.

He takes heaving breaths above you, his chest rising and falling steadily as he stares down at you in admiration. He’s got the kindest eyes. When you pull off of his cock, he offers his hand to you, helping you back to your feet. He thanks you again, then apologizes for finishing how he did. You assure him that you don’t mind a bit. “M’not gonna leave ya high and dry, you know,” he says, “You just give me a few days to get myself right and I’ll take good care of you. Return the favor and all that good stuff. Hm?”

Sure, Joel, you think, nodding to him. He nods back at you, feeling good and satisfied, already dreaming about getting you off in a few short days. How soft and wet your pussy will be, pulsing around his cock, all for him. He’ll make you come just as hard as he did, if not harder. He can see it now, he’ll have you falling to pieces under his tongue and his fingers. He just needs to fucking heal first. While Joel’s been favoring his right arm quite a bit, he still hasn’t been taking it as easy as he should have been. But he’s got a woman waiting on him now, and healing is his top priority. 

Joel smiles, you smile sweetly back at him as you wrap an arm around his waist for stability and set one of your feet on the ledge of the bathtub. His smile contorts into a confused frown as he watches you take your free hand and snake it between yours and Joel’s bodies, your fingers toying with your center. “Whatcha doin’?”, Joel asks. 

“Oh, you know,” you reply plainly. You sigh softly, tilting your head back as one of your fingers circles your hole. 

“No, no, no, no,” Joel protests, “No, thought you were gonna wait your turn.” 

“My turn’s right now,” you breathe, now dipping a finger into your entrance, curling it and swirling it around. “You’re not the only one with needs.”

“I know you got needs, hon, thought we just agreed I’d be the one to take care of ‘em,” he tries, “Right?”

“It’s alright,” you purr, “I got it.”

It’s almost cartoonish, how Joel’s expression turns from one of satisfaction and bliss to betrayal and astonishment. “I don’t like this,” he mutters, “It’s teasin’ me, you know.”

“Oh, Joel,” you whimper softly, your fingers now rubbing over your clit, “What don’t you like?”

“Uh, that,” he spits, “Don’t like hearin’ you moanin’ my name when I’m not the one touchin’ ya. Don’t like that at all.”

You pout, “Oh, you can touch me,” you offer as you take his left hand into your own, sliding it up your body. He thumbs the plump underside of your breast and glides his fingers over your nipple, feeling it harden beneath his touch. 

“Oh, real nice. You’re playin’ dirty,” he accuses, “You’re nothin’ but trouble. Shoulda known.”

You don’t bother replying as you begin to trace steady circles into your clit, dipping your fingers at your entrance to collect more of your arousal. Your fingers slip and slide through your folds with such ease. 

Joel growls, squeezing your breast harshly one last time before his arm finds your waist and he pulls you flush against his body. With your head still tilted back as you whimper quietly, Joel takes the opportunity to kiss your neck, biting and nipping at your hot, dampened skin. It only fuels you. “Joel,” you cry, “Fuck, oh my god,” as that warm, sticky feeling deep in your gut is beginning to build.

Joel watches you, conflicted. How sweet his name sounds falling from your lips with your broken, honeyed moans, but Jesus, he needs to be the one touching you like that, not you. He should have known it’d turn out this way, that you’d revel in having this one-up on him. Your fucking audacity. I made you come so hard you saw stars, and I’m doing the same thing to myself. And you can’t do a single thing about it. Ha. Ha. 

Joel holds you tighter when your cries begin to get louder as you reach your peak, your knees beginning to buckle. You moan frantically, loudly, and Joel watches you knit your brows together and your mouth drops open as you begin to fall apart. Your fingers massage your clit faster, harder, feeling that tension in your gut snap and splinter as waves of pleasure overtake you, washing over your body. With your eyes shut, you feel it deep in your stomach, down the back of your thighs, riding out your orgasm on your own fingers as Joel holds you close to his body.

When you finally open your eyes, Joel’s glaring at you. He says nothing. Deep down, he knew you’d probably end up taking care of yourself tonight, but in front of him? You’ve got some fucking nerve. 

When your breathing slows, Joel lets you go. He stares at you, unimpressed, mouth slightly agape. You take the opportunity to slide two of your fingers past his lips, letting him taste your sweet arousal on his tongue. His brows furrow and his eyes flutter shut as he groans deeply, hungrily. “Seriously?”

You nod with a smile, then press a quick kiss on his lips before shimmying past him to reach for your towel. You dry off and step out of the tub, and when you look back at Joel, he wears a scowl. 

“You’re the fuckin’ devil.” 

Next

#strang3lov3 #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller #the last of us #pedro pascal #the last of us hbo #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal joel miller #pedro pascal the last of us #pedro pascal x reader

[heich0e]

Touya's not usually one to check his text messages.

Never has been, ever since he got his first cellphone when he was 13. He finds it more of a nuisance than anything, the way people always want to get ahold of him. Always expect a response from him over the most mundane shit. He barely likes talking to anyone as is, let alone during his private time—therefore, as a general rule, he doesn't respond to texts.

Especially not ones that pop up on his phone on a lazy Saturday afternoon with the contact name 'Bird Brain' listed as the sender.

But when these particular message previews appear, rudely interrupting him in the middle of watching a cake decorating video while he lays sprawled across the couch, Touya can't help but click through to the conversation to give them the response that they deserve.

His response is about as succinct and unamused as he is.

Three telltale dots appear at the bottom of the conversation before Touya can click away, and he finds himself waiting to see what Keigo comes back with—for reasons not even he quite understands.

Touya pushes himself up off the couch in an instant, stomping into your bedroom.

He finds himself hesitating once he makes it to the doorway, his body having moved relatively of its own accord, realizing only once he's standing at the threshold that he's not even really sure what he's going to say.

You're laying across the bottom of your bed on your tummy with your sock-clad feet lifted in the air behind you. You have one headphone in your ear and your laptop propped in front of you with that stupid romantic drama you like so much playing—the one Touya pretends he hates but always gets a little pouty when you watch an episode without him. You turn when you spot him in your peripheral vision, popping your headphone out of your ear and hitting the spacebar to pause your show.

"I'm almost done," you tell him, glancing back to your screen where the male lead is paused mid-confession—his mouth still open in the middle of his ardent monologue. You peer back at him again over your shoulder with a slightly smug look. "If you hadn't watched ahead without me we could be watching it together, y'know."

"That was an accident," Touya grumbles, sniffing a little indignantly. "It started playin' automatically when I turned the TV on."

"Sure, sure," you chirp, turning back to your laptop. When you realize Touya's still lingering there, you face him again, this time pushing yourself up on your elbow so you can twist around to look at him more fully. Your brow furrows. "What's wrong?"

Touya sucks in a breath of air and holds it in his cheeks, narrowing his eyes slightly.

"Can I see your phone for a sec?" he asks.

The pinch of your brow slackens as one of them lifts in surprise.

"Yeah," you say, though your tone is still a little wary. You nod towards your bedside table at the head of the bed. "It's plugged in."

Touya shuffles towards you, rounding the end of your bed frame and approaching the device in question. He sit down at the edge of the mattress, and it dips under his weight. Beside him, you shuffle a bit closer to him as you resume watching your show, one of your feet brushing gently against his back as you kick them idly back and forth.

Touya knows your passcode, just like you know his, so it's no effort to unlock the device once he has it in hand. Finding the app in question is another story entirely.

He turns to you.

"Which one of these is Instagram?" he asks, holding the device in front of your face with the home screen open.

You pause your show again.

"This one," you say, pointing to one particular app icon, but your voice is notably perplexed.

Touya's never had any interest in social media. He had a couple of accounts when he was a teenager but hasn't properly logged in for years. As new social networking sites have risen and fallen, he's never bothered to even sign up, seeing no need in signing away his personal data to a platform he'll never use anyway.

Touya taps his thumb against the icon that you pointed out, waiting for the application to launch. His leg jiggles impatiently while he waits for it to load.

Beside him, you don't unpause your show.

When the screen finally loads, Touya is immediately accosted by an unfamiliar interface. There's some photo of a girl he doesn't know taking up most of the screen, and a few bubbles in the upper right hand corner that he can only assume are notifications you haven't checked. Touya may not use social media, but he's not an idiot either, so after clicking around the screen for long enough he finally manages to pull up what he recognizes as your personal profile.

"Touya, what are you doing?" you ask, thoroughly bewildered now, having just watched your boyfriend visit just about every corner of the Instagram app.

He sucks in a sharp breath.

Slowly, he turns to look at you.

"Did you just post this?"

He doesn't really need to ask, considering the baggy t-shirt you're wearing in the photo—his t-shirt, he recognizes immediately—is the same one you currently have on as you lie stretched across your bed. It's all you have on, save for the frilly little socks on your feet and the edge of the panties he can see peeking out where your shirt's hem has ridden up.

The photo blessedly has left those out.

You clear your throat, almost like you're embarrassed, reaching out for your cellphone. "Yeah, a little while ago."

Touya holds the device out of your reach, and a little sound of indignation slips from your lips. He keeps scrolling.

Your profile is full of photos of you that are just as charming as the first one he'd seen. Some are of friends, or food, or places you've visited. Many are even of him, or the two of you together. The collection is like a series of little snapshots into your life—of all the moments you wanted to save or share. But every so often there will be a photo just of you.

You with your lips pursed coyly, or maybe quirked with the ghost of a smile. You wrapped in a skimpy little dress you bought for a special occasion that Touya is all too familiar with. You with your eyes bright, or maybe one where they're heavy lidded in a sultry expression that makes something possessive and primal scrape against Touya's ribs.

His face feels hot when he looks at those ones. Hotter still when he realizes other people have seen them too.

"I think you should delete your account," he says suddenly, turning to face you with a completely serious—and markedly insistent—expression.

"W-what? Touya!" You exclaim plaintively. You push yourself up onto your knees and scrabble for your phone. Touya doesn't fight back to any real degree. He lets you crawl into his lap and wrestle it out of his hands, though the two of you do go tumbling back across the bed in the process. Once you've safely tossed the phone down to the other end of the bed out of his reach, you turn back to him with an irritated pinch to your features.

Touya meets your gaze easily, like a man without guilt.

"What's gotten into you?" you ask him softly, still straddling his lap. Your hands rest over his sternum, fiddling idly with the strings of his hoodie.

Touya sighs, reaching up and tugging you down to his chest before snaking his arms around your waist to keep you pressed against him. You don't try and wiggle out of his grip like he thinks that you might, instead you let him hold you, nuzzling your face into the collar of his sweatshirt.

"You're being weird," you mumble.

"No, weird would be me asking you to throw your phone away and never leave the house again so I'm the only one who gets to look at you," Touya replies, his fingers dipping under the hem of your—his—shirt and creeping up along your spine. "I'm actually being pretty normal, all things considered."

You huff out a little laugh and Touya feels the warmth of it break against the skin of his throat. You lift your face so you can look at him, and Touya admires the view of you from so close up. The curve of your lips, the colour of your eyes, the tip of your nose. He could look at you all day, he realizes then. Every part of you. Every inch and dip and curve that makes you up. He could study them. Map them out with his eyes closed, long committed to memory.

You make him feel kind of insane, sometimes. More insane than usual, anyway. He worries that he likes you too much.

"What are you thinking about?" you ask him quietly.

You.

Touya purses his lips.

It wasn't his intended goal, but he's happy to accept the little kiss you press against them anyway, a laugh slipping out of his mouth and into yours before you pull away. He shuts his eyes, letting his head tip back against the bed again, letting out a long, exhausted breath.

"Wanna help me set up an instagram account?" he finally mutters after a long stretch of silence.

You push yourself up overtop of him, and when he cracks one eye open he finds you looking down at him excitedly.

"Really?" you ask him incredulously, but undeniably pleased by the prospect.

He nods a bit, pulling you back down against his chest. He lets his eyes shut once more.

If deleting your account is out of the question, he might as well have his own so at least he gets to admire it.

You wiggle comfortably in Touya's hold, your TV show long forgotten at the other end of the bed, content to just let your boyfriend trace lazy circles into your thigh as your legs tangle together with his.

Touya's eyes pop open again suddenly, an unpleasant and not-so distant memory rushing back to him.

Your gaze meets his own, a quiet concern swimming behind it.

He takes your face in his hand.

"How do you block someone on Instagram?"

#touya x reader #todoroki touya x reader #dabi x reader #touya todoroki x reader #bnha drabble #bnha writing #writing

[gogobootz1]

The Mentor

Finnick Odair x Reader

Summary: As a mentor, you do your best to help your tributes. When one of them turns into a victor, she knows just how to embarrass you in front of people you’d like to impress.

part two | part three

You whisk through the backstage hallways of the filming center, wet hair whipping as you turn corners. You’re on a mission. Apparently your tribute, now victor, is having a total breakdown.

Your fellow mentor told you he could absolutely handle her post-games interview. Clearly not, though, since your phone wouldn’t stop ringing while you sat at the bottom of your shower. When you finally pulled yourself out of your stupor to answer it, the district ten escort was on the phone begging you to get down here and fix her. You thought she was exaggerating until your stylist came on and told you it was bad. At that point, you threw on the closest clothes you could find and flew out of the apartment.

Darla is a sweet girl, and you’ve grown quite fond of her. You busted your ass getting her sponsors. Every year you try your best, but you thought she had a good chance and she proved you right. Seeing her in the hospital bed, though, you knew she was different. You thought something like this might happen, but you didn’t think it would happen during your shower.

Rushing around another corner, you crash right into another body.

“Sorry!” You try to quickly remove your hands from where you’d steadied yourself, and sidestep this new obstacle.

“What’s the rush?” The obstacle won’t quite let go of you, though. Now interrupted from your task, you look up to recognize the person in your way. Finnick Odair. It couldn’t have been anyone else?

“Emergency,” you quickly dismiss, trying to get by him again. If you look into his eyes you will be thoroughly distracted. You generally try to avoid Finnick at all costs. His intense stare makes you rather nervous.

“Everything ok?” He raises a brow.

“It will be when I get through here,” you start to get antsy. You tend to accidentally default to short and rude with him.

He lets out a scoff of a chuckle, “you’re a tough egg to crack, you know that?”

You’re really not. The Capitol knows you as the gentle victor, who often visits classrooms and reads to children. You guest star on daytime Capitol tv, making some of your favorite recipes in your houses’s enormous kitchen. You’ve designed gardens and parks and are generally well liked here for your friendliness.

“Look,” you huff, “Darla’s in trouble.” This, at least, you know he’ll understand. “Let me through so I can help her.”

“That’s why everything’s been delayed?” He asks. He’s right, too. The time it’s taken you to get dressed, get a car, and get here is all time that Darla should’ve been on air.

“Finnick,” you snap.

He steps aside in an instant, “good luck.”

You breeze past him.

“Mother hen is a good look on you,” you hear from behind you.

“Shut up,” you bark over your shoulder.

Back on track, you quickly find the right door. Whipping it open and rushing in, the entire district ten beauty team turns to look at you. Their eyes are wide and they look quite upset.

“She’s been staring at the wall since before we called you,” the hairstylist whispers, quickly rushing up to you and taking your hand. You instantly tug it away, they are not your priority.

You breeze past them and slowly approach where Darla is sat. She faces away from you, and is curled up in a ball staring at the wall. Quietly, you sit parallel to her and enjoy a similar view of the wall.

“Hey, D,” you say quietly. Taking a slow approach will probably be more effective than trying to force her up. You’re certain the beauty team tried that approach, but quickly got scared.

She’s silent for a bit, “I can’t do this.” Her voice comes as a relief to you.

You hate what you’re about to tell her. You’d really rather whisk her away back to the apartments, but there’s not exactly another option here. “Look at me, honey, yes you can.”

“No, I-“

“Darla, you can.” You try to be firm, but it falls short.

“You don’t under-“

“Now I know you weren’t gonna say I don’t understand. Baby, I might just be the only one who does.”

Darla starts to cry, and suddenly she looks her age. In this moment she’s not a victor. She’s just a sixteen year old who’s been through far more than she should. You move from your spot to embrace her.

“I know, honey. I’ve been here. Sometimes I’m still here. I know. But they don’t- and they can’t.” You say as you hold her close to your heart.

“So what do I do?” You pull away to see her teary face. You rise to your feet and slowly pull her with you.

“We’re gonna clean you up, and send you out there good as new,” you say, trying to imbue some confidence in her.

Darla’s eyes widen in fear.

“Relax, honey, we’ve got time,” you wipe her teary cheeks. You wave the makeup artist over, as you sit Darla in a chair. “Now in the meantime,” you start, pouring a glass of water and forcing it into Darla’s hand, “I’m gonna tell you a story. How’s that sound?”

Darla nods reluctantly, taking in ice water through the straw. You sit on the glass coffee table in front of the girl as the makeup artist gets to work.

“Now this happened a looooong time ago- back when I was ten. It was a bright summer’s day on the ranch, and I was up nice and early when my Paw came up and told me he’d lost his wedding ring. Now, my Nana was an insightful gal- if she had noticed (and believe me she would’ve) she’d have pitched a fit.

So I was enlisted to help him find it. Well, we searched everywhere. All around the house, the garage- no luck. Finally, we headed out to the pasture. We were digging through manure, when suddenly my foot sank into a pothole and I went flying toward the ground. I landed face first in an enormous pile of shit. But that’s not the worst of it- ohhh no.

When I pushed myself off the ground, I saw my nana had come home. She’d brought four of her friends and all of their grandkids. That included little Jimmy Price, who I happened to be enamored with. (Not that I ever spoke to him since I was so shy.) And in that moment, my Paw, back turned to the whole thing, held up his ring and shouted ‘found it!’ Only to turn and find me covered in cow poop and his wife watching with all her friends.”

Darla smiles a bit at your misfortune, “so he found the ring in the poop?”

“Oh no,” you shake your head, “it was in his pocket all along.” Darla cackles this, nearly messing up the eyeliner her makeup artist tries to fix from her earlier tears.

“So what was the lesson in this fable?” Darla asks teasingly.

“Oh none,” you reply innocently, but a smirk grows on your face, “but at least you’re not heading out there covered in cow shit.” Darla grins and shakes her head, feeling up to the task now. The makeup artist nods at you and dashes from the room.

“Now honey,” you start, pulling Darla up from her chair, “you just blame your tardiness on me. Tell Caesar I was fawning all over you like a mother hen.” At least something useful came out of your run in with the Capitol’s darling.

Darla smiles a little, nodding. “And remember, just be your charming self- everyone here adores you,” you remind her. She seems a lot better now.

“Oh hey, where were you earlier?” Darla asks, about to head out the door.

“I’ll tell you when you’re older.” You tell her, smile dimming.

“Now you really sound like my mother,” Darla quips back, and you grin again.

With that, a stagehand pulls Darla away to where Caesar’s been waiting. There’s not much else you can do for the girl now. Out of your hands and into the Capitol’s. You can only hope Darla won’t freeze feeling all their eyes upon her.

You shouldn’t have been worried, though. Darla nails her post-games interview. The audience finds it adorable when the girl says she took so long because her mentor was fussing over her hair and her dress.

“You wouldn’t think it- but she’s a real mother hen.” Darla says, and you smile as you watch from backstage. The audience erupts into a gleeful sort of laughter at the comment.

Caesar knows just what to do with it, too, “well it’s no wonder, I’m sure you’ve made her proud!” Darla beams, and very convincingly so. “Let’s take a look back at Darla’s games!”

To your great relief, Darla holds it together through the recap. The girl gets boisterous applause as the leaves the stage, then comes flying into your arms once she’s out of sight. The force of it makes you stumble, but you quickly plant your feet and return the hug.

“You did great, kiddo,” you tell your tribute.

“Thanks!” Darla replies, speaking loudly from the adrenaline rush, “and thanks for telling me about when you face planted in a pile of cow poop back home, it really helped!”

Every single person milling around backstage turns to look at you when Darla says it. Not that the girl notices the extra eyes.

You drop your chin, trying to avoid the stares of these people. This is what you get for comforting her at your own expense. Taking a calming breath, you look up only to meet a pair of sea-green eyes.

Of course Finnick Odair heard that, and of course he’s smirking teasingly at you.

Like Jimmy Price all over again.

You stick your tongue out at him.

———————————————————

I did not edit this so I hope it’s ok lmao. The new hunger games movie was great so ofc finnick’s been on the brain

#finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #the hunger games #finnick x reader #hunger games #hunger games fanfiction #caesar flickerman

[dannyphantom-zero]

Doctor Danny Prompt

Danny Fenton is largely regarded as an ignorant slacker as a result of his schoolwork and study time consistently being interrupted by ghost attacks. Thankfully after Danny is crowned high king of the ghost zone he is able to reign the ghosts in and makes them all swear an oath not to cause trouble, they are still allowed to visit the human world of coarse, some even mask themselves as human and lead ordinary loves even while being dead.

With more time on his hands and little to no ghosts attacks Danny misses the rush he used to get. Then one day a man collapsed in front of him, Danny is able to save the man using CPR and he discovers his new affinity. Medical practice.

Danny goes to college and gets into a hospital as a resident after interning, not long after though the Amity Park hospital closes due to lack of funding and he is forced to find another hospital.

He got a good recommendation from his previous hospital to work at a hospital in Gotham, definitely far from home, but he doesn't let that stop him.

Soon after working there he finds the influx of patients to care for refreshing, he becomes widely known as a genius miracle doctor.

One day he's taking a leisurely walk when he found an injured vigilante, the Red Hood, hes not conscious and therefore unable to give consent for treatment. Danny cares for Red Hoods injuries privately away from a hospital so as to keep the vigilantes identity a secret.

Red Hood is cautious and rude at first, but slowly he learns to open up to the doctor and even get continuously treated by Danny.

Danny is just finishing a shift when he hears about Superman being shot with a kryptonite bullet. Despite using his powers occasionally to treat patients, he's been able to keep his ghost gene a secret.

However that's about to change. He arrives on the seen and pushes his way through the police using a bit of his powers discreetly to get through.

The heroes aren't sure what to do.

"My name's Daniel Fenton, I am an attending physician at Gotham General Hospital, I specialize in supernatural anatomy, Cardiology and Endocrinology"

"All due respect doctor, his skin is impenetrable, you won't be able to operate on him"

Danny kept a cool face.

"That would be true for a normal human, I can't explain right now, every moment we wait is time we could be using to save the patient"

Danny used his ghost powers to see inside Superman body.

Several heroes gasped as they witnessed the doctors eyes turn a glowing green and then his arm became transparent. Danny stick his hand on Superman chest and pulled out the bullet.

As soon as the bullet was out Superman's skin began healing and restoring itself.

Danny let out a breath of relief before letting the superheroes escort him to the hall of justice where they sat with him.

"I would like to begin with we all can't thank you enough Dr" Batman said.

"wow, Mr tall dark and broody is being nice" flash whispered.

"Yes but I'm sure you still have questions for me."

Several heads nodded.

"are you of an alien race?"

Danny chuckled.

"No, nothing like that. My parents were scientists who were obsessed with the study of the paranormal, specifically ghosts. When I was young, around the age of fourteen I would say, my friends convinced me to go inside the newly constructed portal shell that my parents had tested earlier that day."

He paused waiting for them to take in his words before continuing.

"It had failed to operate then so I went in thinking it was safe. I was wrong. My parents had unknowingly instilled the charge to start the portal on the inside of the shell. I didn't know it was even there until I tripped on some tangled exposed wire and my hand pressed it"

"did it hurt?" Flash asked. He got a few dirty looks for that question but Danny just gave him a friendly smile.

"in a word, yes. It was excruciating. I was electrocuted for a half a minute. On top of that I had accidentally started the charge to the portal shell while being inside. This caused an outside substance called ectoplasm to enter my DNA sequence permanently changing it"

"ectoplasm" Batman muttered.

"in simpler terms, I'm half ghost."

"That's not possible! You would have to be half dead to be-" Flashs words were silenced with a swift smack to the back of the head by wonder women.

"Yes, I am technically half dead. I had to battle these ghost entities for a while to make sure they didn't wreck havoc in the small town o grew up in."

"Forgive me, but of that's true why aren't you there now"

Danny chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck a little nervous of their soon to be reactions.

"After I was forced to defeat the current ghost king and put him back onto the sarcophagus of forever sleep, the title became mine. I gained respect and control over the ghosts who were causing trouble amd was able to make them stop"

"Your a king" Batman stated.

"i don't refer to myself as such, on truth many ghosts helped imprison the old king, I received the title on a technicality."

He looked down at his hands.

"after the peace had settled in I had begun to feel as though a part of me was missing so I took up the career I have currently."

He smiled at them sweetly as he explained.

"My battle instincts help me when I'm in a crisis situation with a critical patient. With my powers I can calm them and safely restrain them if need be. As you saw today I can also better treat meta humans and alien races with these abilities as well"

"you went from being a hero to being a doctor, that's commendable"

Danny shook his head.

"Not really. I'm doing a selfless thing for selfish reasons"

The league smiled upon him. From then on he was world renowned for his worldly expertise and protected.

Should I make this into a whole fanfiction or not? Because I want to go into more detail but I want to know what you all think first.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dc universe #batman #danny stuff #Superman #kryptonite #scientists #maddie fenton #jack fenton #flash #dpxdc

[juletheghoul]

Castaways (Part 1)

AN: Before I get into the notes for this - I want to say a quick thank you to everyone who took the time to send me a message / comment on my post, it meant a lot to me. 💜💜💜 As for this story, I started writing it in Sept of 2022, after watching the Harrison Ford movie, Six Days, Seven Nights lol. I had a lot of it down pretty quickly but eventually, I stopped. Now that new ideas aren't as bountiful as they once were, I started combing through all of the half-finished works in my docs and I fell back in love with this one. Hopefully you enjoy it. I have an ending planned out so there will definitely be a part 2! Shout out to @wheresarizona for betaing and just general wonderfulness, to @just-here-for-the-moment for screaming at me through comments in this doc. Enjoy xox. 

Pairing; Frankie Morales x f!reader (Princess as a nickname)

Warnings;  C o m p e t e n c y - a very brief snake…encounter?-piv sex (wrap it up), swearing, dirty talk, Frankie eats pussy with gusto (when doesn't he), creampie, longing, yearning, a helicopter crash (nothing too graphic), reader is spoiled at first and generally kind of snobby- enemies to lovers? Bit of a slow burn! let me know if I missed anything.

Word count; 13k 😅

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist

The click of your heels sounded throughout the airy hangar with a purpose, the echoing sound of it heralding your journey to give someone—anyone hell. 

A quick flick of your wrist reminds you how late you already were for the retreat booked in your private slice of paradise; the private jet your father paid a fortune for had made an emergency stop in Puerto Rico- some nonsense about a storm. 

Unacceptable. 

An imperious sigh leaves your mouth -not a single person to lay into anywhere in sight, and it leaves you no choice but to head outside to see if there is a plane you could commandeer. 

—

He wipes the grease onto the legs of his well-worn work coveralls, his previous scowl gone and replaced with a triumphant smile - finally got that fucking bolt off-

“Excuse me-” He turns toward the sound and is greeted by a very annoyed-looking woman. “Hi, do you know where I can find a pilot? There’s no one in the hangar.” She drags a very expensive-looking suitcase behind her with one hand, the other holding a ridiculously large hat onto her head. 

“Hi, yes I’m a pilot - most of the staff have gone home, a big storm coming soon-”

“Perfect, can I hire you to fly me to this island?” Her fingers flew across the no-doubt latest model of smartphone in her hands - ignoring the shocked expression on his face at being so rudely interrupted. “This one here, I need to be there like three hours ago, and I would be there now if we hadn’t stopped here - you know where this is, right? Can you take me?” She all but shoves the phone into his face. 

“No.” He carefully moves her manicured hand away from his face, and a tiny, cruel little part of him enjoys the shock in her expression - he very quickly gets the impression that this girl is not used to hearing the word. “As I was saying - everyone has gone home, a lot of people were grounded here, myself included. There is a big thunderstorm coming. Not safe to fly until it passes. Shouldn’t last too long - a quick squall - come back tomorrow, and I’ll happily fly you there.” He then turns to continue his work. 

“Money is no object, but I need to leave now,” she says it through a huffed breath, and his eyebrows raise. 

“And yet, my answer is still no.” He’s annoyed now. In truth, it was a fairly quick flight - he knew the island she’d shown him, had made the trip before, and it would be less than an hour, but her attitude was a black mark against her. Her phone trills then, a cheery tone, momentarily snatching her attention from him. 

“Hi, Dad, yeah, I know. I’m at the hangar, looking for a ride.” She taps her foot, and it sets his teeth on edge. “There is a pilot here, but he says he won’t fly me.” She narrows her eyes at him when he turns to look at her, listening to the other half of the conversation he wasn’t privy to. “I’ll tell him- Sorry-” She inspects his name tag, “Francisco, my father says if you get me to the island within the hour, he’ll make it worth your while. Name your price.” 

“I don’t know what part of it isn’t safe isn’t registering-” She raises her voice and speaks over him. 

“He’ll pay you ten thousand dollars.” Her tone is loud but bored. “Besides - the skies are gorgeous - I’m sure we can make it before anything happens.” She waits a moment, “Plus another five grand when you land. And you can have accommodations until tomorrow - room service, the works. Just please - get me there.” Her eyes are hopeful, and for a brief moment, he acknowledges how pretty she is, or - would be, if she wasn’t such an insufferable princess.

He knew he should have said no. Knew he should have turned her down and followed the guidelines, but that kind of money would change his life. Change their lives- it would have been insane for him to turn it down. 

“Fine.” He relents, shoving down the heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach. “I’ll be your pilot. We’ll be out of here in ten minutes.” She almost jumps with joy, and he can’t hide the annoyed expression on his face.

“Done - okay, I’ll be there soon, Dad! Bye.”  

-

He was covered in grease. 

You had to remind yourself not to wrinkle your nose at him. You supposed he could be handsome, in a scruffy, working man way, but that's beside the point. He was your saving grace right now, and that counted for a lot.

He fiddles with the engine of the helicopter for a moment more while he leaves you to wrestle your suitcase in by yourself, thankfully without breaking a nail. 

“Alright - just going to perform a couple of checks, and we’ll be in the air.” He got in and began flicking switches, turning knobs, and checking over all manner of gauges while you made yourself as comfortable as was possible in the cramped little aircraft. It was hard, though, with your suitcase practically digging into your back behind you. 

It’s fine. I’ll just have to get a massage once I land.

“Okay, we’re off.” He has his headset on, and you are in the air within a few moments. That, unfortunately, seemed to be the end of your good luck. 

Whether by some cruel design, by the fates or gods, or whatever entity dictated the events of your life - it didn’t take twenty minutes in the air for the sky to turn a foreboding gray. 

“That doesn’t look good,” he says, the words loud enough to be heard over the noise, his eyes quickly scanning the horizon, no doubt taking in the dark clouds flanking either side of the already rickety helicopter. 

“It came out of nowhere.” One minute, the sky was blue, and the next, lightning forked the sky in the distance. 

“No, it didn’t - I told you a storm was coming. This is too dangerous - I’m going to have to turn around for our safety.” He maneuvers the controls, and you have no choice but to agree despite your annoyance.

It all happened so fast. 

Something strikes the aircraft, the sound of it booming in your ears so loud it hurts, and then he’s frantic. Manically pressing buttons and calling through the radio, but from the frustrated and frankly terrified expression, no one is answering. 

“Fuck, tighten your seatbelt, we’re going down!” He grits his teeth, and all of a sudden, you are spinning, a scream being ripped from your throat - your heart falling out of your ass. “Impact coming - brace yourself!” he screams before the world goes black. 

-

Someone is making noise, a low groaning noise that pulls him out from the depths of unconsciousness, he’s only mildly surprised to realize it is him.

The helicopter - his helicopter wasn’t making any noise, which was bad. 

Under normal circumstances, it would be broadcasting out a signal beacon that would bring in a rescue team, but as it stood right now - without blinking lights or a working radio - it had gone completely silent. 

Lighting must have fried it. Fuck.

He took stock of his situation. Luckily, he doesn’t feel any injuries aside from horrible whiplash. No blood, no broken bones. A softer groan comes from the woman beside him; she’s still out, and he couldn’t see any injuries- he’d know when she woke up. 

I could kill you right now.

He thought the words, sighing loudly to himself before finding a way out of the cockpit. He’d managed to move most of what he had in the helicopter out onto the sand by the time she woke. 

“Jesus Christ - what the hell happened?” She stumbles out, barely managing to stop herself from eating shit in the process, unfortunately.

“What happened is the storm I warned you about many times caught us in the air and grounded us here.” He’s laying out his supplies, lengths of rope, his toolbox, and empty water jugs. He has a small case with a flare gun, an emergency kit filled with first aid supplies, and a massive tarp. There are a few more things to go through, but it is important they find a source of freshwater soon, or they won’t last two days, especially with the heat making his clothes stick to his body.

She sighs loudly, struggling to make her way through the sand in those ridiculous heels she’s wearing

“And now we’re stuck here, on an island when, where I should be, is home with my-“ 

“Can’t you call mayday or something? My father is expecting me. I’m sure he’ll have an army looking for us.” She’s digging through her purse frantically, ignoring the scathing look he’s giving her.

Spoiled little brat, you only care about yourself, huh?

“Wow. You know what? That’s a great idea! Why the hell didn’t I think of that?” He can’t hold back. “Oh! I know, it’s because we were struck by lightning, and it fried everything, so whatever army your father sends won’t find us -there is no signal to hone in on.” He scowls at her, annoyed that she isn’t paying attention to him even now. “Doesn’t help that a lot of these islands that are usually full of tourists are uninhabited after the hurricane that hit a few months ago.”

“So we’re stuck here???” Her eyes are wild as they look past him, to the beach just beyond, and then to the thick greenery behind them. “This cannot be happening right now,” she spoke to herself. 

“Where the fuck is my phone??” She moves and makes her way back into the cockpit, all but ripping the aircraft apart before- “Fuck! You have got to be fucking kidding me! Don’t you have some kind of satellite phone or something??” She’s tapping at the deeply damaged screen, it completely destroyed. 

He couldn’t help but bark out cruel laughter. 

“I don’t know what planet you’re on. People - regular people don’t just have satellite phones, sweetheart.” He got up from his place in the sand, making sure to put the flares back in the helicopter.

“Great. Just great.” She sighs loudly, “So we’re stuck here. Do you even know where here is?” She fishes into her bag once more, pulling out a bottle of what looks to be sunscreen, and squeezing out some to spread over her exposed skin. 

“No. I don’t, but the heat is going to kill us if we don’t find water soon. Grab one of those jugs, and let’s go find water. You might want to change your shoes.” He pushes her suitcase at her, ignoring the shocked look on her face. “Chop chop, princess, let’s move.” 

-

This couldn’t be happening, this could not be happening!

Right now, you should have been mingling with Louis, the gorgeous, billionaire bachelor your father invited to your private resort. You could almost picture it, the classy yet sexy outfit you’d be wearing while you flirted over a drink by the infinity pool. Broadening your horizons and nailing down the rich husband you deserve.

Instead, you’re here - stuck in the sand with the world's grumpiest pilot, trying desperately to get your phone to work, but it’s no use. 

You can almost see the frantic look on your mother's face now that it was obvious that you hadn’t made it at the scheduled time, she and your father were probably coordinating with the military right this second, with the Navy.

What the fuck am I going to do-

The jug hits your lap, scaring you half to death.

“Come on, princess, let’s get moving. We have to find fresh water before we die of dehydration out here.” He’s standing a few feet away, staring at you with his perpetual scowl. “Change your shoes, and let’s go.”

“What’s wrong with my shoes?” They were pretty sensible as far as your sandals went, respectable heels, and relatively comfortable. His scowl deepens.

“You cannot stumble around the island in those, you’ll break an ankle, and I am not fucking dealing with that.” His eyes narrow. “Tell me you brought a pair of runners in that giant trunk.”

“Of course I did,” your tone is icy as you get up with a huff. You quickly changed into them, and then you were off. 

The terrain got more and more treacherous the further you got from the powdery white sand of the beach. Dirt and bramble gave way to thick, almost jungle-like vegetation, making the trek harder and harder as time slogged by. 

The sound of running water greets the two of you like a siren song, spurring your tired, sweat-soaked body to move quicker, and the sight that meets you once you break the dense treeline could've made you moan. You jump into the water to cool your heated skin, ignoring the warning from Francisco. 

“You should get out of there.” He’s at the edge of the clearish water, filling the jugs quickly.

He seems to be determined to infuse his sour attitude into everything, your mouth opened to tell him to relax when something brushes past your leg. At first, you think it might be a piece of underwater flora, but it becomes apparent very quickly that it’s something far worse. 

“Francisco.” His eyes met yours, “Francisco, something just swam into my shorts, I-I think it’s a snake.” Your voice trembles slightly, hands itching to pull whatever it was out, but his voice cuts through the urge.

“Don’t move- are you sure it’s a snake?” He put the jugs down beside him, moving closer to you, descending slowly into the water.

“Yes, It’s coiling around my thigh, moving up - I need it out right now, I wanna just grab it-“ Your head tilts down, but he stops you.

“Don’t move! It could be venomous.” He wades into the water towards you slowly, too slowly. Your heart’s racing, hands shaking as you wait for him to reach you.

“Help me, get it out, get it out!” your voice is almost manic, desperation colouring every single inch of you. 

“Okay, okay, calm - deep breath.” You followed his example as best you could, trying yet failing to ignore the slithering against your skin. “Slowly pull your waistband away from your body, and I’ll see if I can grab it,” his tone had lowered, a soothing timbre reminding you for a moment of how a teacher would speak to a student. 

It helps.

You did as he asked, pulling at the waistband of your shorts, all thoughts of propriety forgotten, and within a moment, his hand was shoved down deep - a rather large hand fighting with whatever it was that had made camp in your pants. 

He bit his lip in concentration, bodily pulling you towards him as he struggled. A moment later, he was raising it up triumphantly.

A huge shiver went down your spine at the sight of it, spurring you to get out of the water as fast as humanly possible. 

“Jesus Christ, it’s just one fucking thing after another,” you spoke as you made it out without incident, ignoring the huge sigh he let out behind you. “Thank you for that.” He was following closely behind you, not interested, it seemed, in having a similar experience.

“Don’t mention it. Let's fill these and get back to the beach.” He hands you a couple of empty jugs, and you reluctantly got to work.

-

All things considered, they were lucky. Frankie knew that. His helicopter - albeit small - was surprisingly well-equipped to handle being stranded. He had an emergency survival kit, purchased partly under the insistence of his mother but mostly so he never had to relive what had happened to him a few years ago. He’d tried not to think about it, but walking through the foliage back to the crash site had brought it all back. Vividly. 

He pushed it away, shoved it down deep where he kept the rest of his issues - instead choosing to focus on what they needed to do. They needed some form of shelter, and soon. 

“I am sweltering,” her voice was low behind him, whiny with the distinct tone of someone who had never truly been uncomfortable a day in her life. “Fucking starving.” 

“Most likely, you’re dehydrated. Once we get back to the beach, we can figure out the water,” he spoke over his shoulder. “Have to make camp if we’re going to be here for a while.” They broke through the treeline, seeing his helicopter on the beach like a pile of old bones broke his heart a little - his only connection to home, to his little girl. He pushes it all away again. 

“So how do we get this water drinkable?” she huffs out the words, dropping the jugs next to his laid-out supplies with great effort. 

“We have to set up a purifying system, filter it, and then boil it.” He crouches down towards his supplies, looking for something clean he could use as a sieve. Luckily, he always kept an overnight bag with him, in case of being grounded somewhere, but he only had three shirts in there, he couldn’t burn one since he didn’t know exactly how long they’d be stuck there. 

“I don’t have much in terms of clothes - you got anything we could use?” He looks up at her, “Something simple, a cotton t-shirt? Something we could use to strain the water.” He walks towards her trunk, waiting for her to open it up. 

She opens it reluctantly, rifling through her things for a moment before handing over a simple white shirt. “Any chance I’ll be able to wear that again?” her voice is vaguely annoyed. 

“I’m sure Daddy won’t mind buying you a new one.” She gives him an expression that could curdle milk. He ignores it. Instead, he busies himself, setting the jugs of water somewhere relatively level. He felt her eyes on him, and it compelled him to explain what he did as he worked. “We have to let the water settle for about an hour, let the sediment sink to the bottom, then strain it, then boil it.” Not for the first time in his life, he was happy to have his military gear within reach. 

-

He works fast - you have to give him that. 

As much as he grumbles and looks at you like you are the devil incarnate - you couldn’t deny that he was incredibly intelligent. Within a few hours of getting back to the camp, he had built an impressive fire, filtered the jugs of water, and had boiled most of it. 

“Tomorrow, we’ll get to work building some sort of shelter,” he spoke after he finally sat down, the first break he’d taken all day. “Have to go about looking for food too, I saw some fruit trees - we’ll grab them on the way back from getting more water.” His eyes are heavy, you can see it in the way he blinked slower and slower. 

“We have to make that trek again?” your voice is shrill, he sighs loudly. 

“We’ll have to make that trek every single day until we’re rescued. Water is the most important thing. No delivery service here, princess,” his voice is sleepy, the usual bite in his words softened by the need for sleep. 

“How will anyone find us?” The worry is evident in your voice.

“I have a flare gun and three flares - we’ll be able to signal someone. Go to bed, we have a lot of work to do tomorrow.” He gestures to the helicopter–lovely, this will be comfortable. 

—

The knock on the helicopter window ripped you out of sleep, your heart racing as you clutched at your chest. 

“Wake up, princess.” He taps on the glass and through bleary eyes, you take note of the smile on his face as he wakes you up, “We have work to do.” He taps one last time and then leaves you. 

You flash him the middle finger as he turns and laughs, annoying you even more.

You join him on the beach a little later, ignoring the ache in your body from sleeping in a half seated position. God I really need that massage.

“I’m going to make the trek for more water, while I do that you are going to gather palm fronds.” He had a jug in his hand as he moved towards the treeline. For a moment you panicked, the thought of being alone causing your heart to sink. 

“Wait, you’re leaving me alone?” You moved a few steps towards him, catching yourself before making it to him. “I mean–um,” You raised your chin at the surprised look on his face, ignoring it. “How many fronds?” There was an abundance of them, both on the ground and in the trees just beyond the sand. He paused, giving you a curious look. 

“As many as you can, we’ll need way more than you think.” He turned then, and left you to it. 

Time crawled by while you were alone, with only your thoughts and the sound of waves to accompany you. Sweat dripped down your brow as you gathered, gathered and gathered some more. Enough fronds that it made a huge pile beside the fire pit Francisco had made. Your stomach growling almost constantly now–the hunger so intense it was making you light headed. 

Branches snapped, drawing your gaze towards his form. He had the jug in one hand and a stalk of bananas in the other. It was enough to make you moan. 

“This is good, but it’s not enough. We have to gather more - have to cut down a bunch of bamboo too.” He put the jug next to the others before joining you where you sat. “Here, you must be starving.” He ripped off a handful of the glorious fruit and tossed them into your lap. 

Nothing had ever tasted so good. 

“Jesus Christ, I thought I would pass out.” You knew you had fruit on your face, but you couldn’t be bothered to care. “Thank you.” You peeled another, eating it just as quickly as the first. 

“Don’t mention it. Okay, let's get to work.” 

-

Your fingers were sore, your back was sore, every single part of you was sore. Hours crawled by with the sun beating down on you both as you weaved fronds together. He had you create sheets and sheets of it, had you help him cut down enough bamboo to build a house. He did the heavy lifting and made what looked like a crude rope tying together the bamboo in layers strong enough to hold both of you. 

Wordlessly, he worked, the sweat dripping down his face, soaking through his shirt like a marathon runner until it was a hindrance and he took it off, used it as a rag that hung limp over his shoulders. This was much worse than a marathon, though, much worse than any workout you’d ever done in your life, and although you’d never say it out loud, you were incredibly thankful he was here. 

I probably would have died by now. 

It was a terrifying thought that without him, you wouldn’t survive - you shoved it away. It wouldn’t matter soon because your parents would be looking, and they wouldn’t stop until they found you.

“Come lay on this, I want to see if it’ll hold both of us.” He stood over the platform, laying on it as you came closer. It held. “Perfect. We’ll be elevated off the sand, less chance of bugs or crabs biting us, and it’ll be cooler than the helicopter.” He let out a weary, tired sigh.

“You’re expecting us both to sleep on this?” You couldn’t help your tone, and instantly you felt bad. He’d worked very hard on this. His brow furrowed. 

“You’re welcome to sleep where you want. I’ll be on this.” He got up, his scowl now back in place, “I’m going to finish here and then go fishing. Keep weaving.” 

Quietly, you got back to work.

-

In all his years, Francisco had never met someone so spoiled and self-serving - even though he’d expected it from her, it still hurt. He didn’t know why - why it would matter that some spoiled rich brat was acting like a spoiled rich brat; maybe it was the lack of gratitude. He was useful, he was smart and he had skills that he knew for a fact she’d die without. 

He stewed over it as he swam towards a large boulder protruding out of the water near the shore. A perfect spot to catch the fish that swam around in the reef below the surface. 

I should let her starve. Find her own food and her own water.

He wouldn’t, though, he couldn’t. All his life, he’d been taught to be a good person, to help where he could and after what had happened in that jungle - he shook it off, pushed it down. Ignored the cruel, petty voice in his head and set about catching something to eat. All the while keeping an eye on the horizon for a boat - for any sign that people were looking for him. That his people were looking for him. 

He let himself think about them, really think about them for the first time since the crash. His parents, his little girl, let himself feel the emptiness of being without them. He let the waves of it crash over him just as the ocean around him crashed into the shore, and then he put it away. 

She was still working when he came back with his catch, her face scrunched up in concentration - ignoring her, he went about doing what needed to be done.

“Is this enough?” Her voice cut through his concentration, and he nodded noncommittally - leaving the prepped fish on a relatively clean piece of driftwood he’d found.

“Hold this.” He stood at the corner of the raised bed and had her hold a tall, sturdy piece of bamboo. His plan was to make a small frame around the base, use the tarp in order to waterproof it, and lay the fronds all around to protect them from the winds that blew through here in bad weather.  

She watched him work in silence, standing where he told her to stand, holding what he told her to hold and eventually, finally - they finished. It was as solid a structure as he could manage without planks of wood or nails, strong enough to survive against a moderate storm and to keep them off the sand. 

He’d used the tarp to cover the roof and three sides, leaving one open for them - him to enter. On top were rows of fronds to catch rainwater and prevent it from pooling in the tarp, the rest of the unused woven sheets she’d made laid inside to use as bedding. With the emergency blanket and his military bedroll this would make a decent bed.

All in all, he was proud of himself, he took the raw materials he’d found on this island, and fashioned himself – themselves a shelter. 

His stomach growled. It was time to start that fire.

-

Your stomach was screaming out in hunger. The bananas had been wonderful, but they weren’t enough. 

“Are you sure that’s safe to eat?” You watched him wrap the fish in banana leaves and put it into red hot embers; you couldn’t help but be slightly dubious about eating something he’d just pulled out of the ocean. He sighed loudly before answering.

“You don’t have to eat it,” he sounded tired, and you supposed he must have been with how hard he’d worked. “It’s edible. I’ve caught this fish before.” He wiped at his brow with the shirt around his shoulders, his skin slightly pink from the sun. 

You didn’t say anything, still unsure, but when the time came for him to unwrap the blackened leaves, your stomach growled loudly. It looked very good. 

He didn’t offer any, instead, he snatched a piece of the steaming, flaky fish and popped it into his mouth, relishing the taste with a loud groan and a big smile. A nice smile, in truth. 

“Maybe I’ll try a little bit.” You scooted closer to where he sat in the sand, unable to resist it.

“Here, careful - it’s very hot.” He tore a piece of a fresh banana leaf and gave you a decently sized filet, and with singed fingers and zero patience, you took a bite.

It was, without a doubt, the most delicious thing you’d ever eaten. 

“Good?” He ate quickly, his expression amused at your very obvious enjoyment of the ‘dubious’ fish. 

“It’s the best fucking thing I’ve ever had.” You meant every word, and licked every last morsel off your fingers.

It was incredibly dark by the time the food was eaten, and the fire had died out. Francisco was attaching a piece of netting to the open side, and once he was done, he climbed in without another word. 

The helicopter felt safe, enclosed and a space you could lock, but the shelter would have airflow. It would be infinitely cooler to sleep in. You knew that, eventually that helicopter would turn into a greenhouse that felt more like an oven. Not to mention how horrible it was to sleep sitting up. 

Every second that passed made the shelter look more and more appealing, and after quickly changing into clean clothes, you slipped in silently, but it didn’t even matter, he was already asleep.

—

He woke to the feeling of soft breath on his back, the air was significantly cooler than it had been during midday, and now, in the early dawn of the morning she was seeking him out for warmth. It was in him to pull away, to deny her, but instead, he stayed motionless. Let her even breath comfort him for a few moments before he eventually rose to bathe in the ocean. Her hand was draped around his middle, pressing herself flat to him while she slept, completely oblivious.

He thought about how scandalized she’d be to know she was being so intimate with him; it almost made him laugh, but soon, that internalized mirth shifted to something bitter, something close to anger. He was only too aware that when she looked at him, she saw ‘the help’; someone like her could never see him as anything other than someone else to pay off, the person hired to do things below her. She shifted in her sleep, burrowing closer, her soft puffs of air ruffling the hair curling at the base of his skull. 

Why does that bother me? I don’t even care about this person.

He sighed, confused with himself over these baffling feelings of inadequacy, frustrated that being close to another person felt good. Annoyed that he didn’t want to pull away - no matter how much of a brat she was. If she woke now and saw them tangled, she’d be embarrassed, perhaps even disgusted, he knew this for a certainty. So he left her.

-

Dawn found you almost frustratingly well-rested, as well as alone. All doubts that may have lingered about the craftsmanship of the shelter evaporated like the morning dew. A long, much-needed stretch is the catalyst that moves you out of the shelter, making sure to close the netting on your way to grab your toiletry bag when he catches your eye from his place in the water. The early morning sun lit up the surface like diamonds. He was running his hands through his hair, wringing out the shirt he’d been wearing the day before. His skin was golden, the high planes of his face kissed by the sun's rays, his shoulders too. You watched him for a time, unable to ignore the breadth of his shoulders - the pleasant sight of his thighs and it was hard not to stare at him when he rose out of the water, the droplets from his golden skin casting a sort of spell on their way back down to earth.

His hands were something else altogether, weaving their own magic the closer he came to shore, from the way they wrung out the shirt easily to the way they adjusted his considerable bulge as he walked, and you looked away quickly, ignoring the curious heat crawling up your chest. 

He found you brushing your teeth, pointedly looking away. 

“I’m going to go look for more fruit.” He spoke as he put the wrung-out shirt to dry next to some of the other things he’d washed before changing out of his wet boxers behind the cover of the helicopter. “You should gather more firewood, things to burn for tonight.”  When he came back around, he was dressed in a clean white tee and a pair of shorts. Looking for all the world like a man on vacation. 

“I’m coming with you.” You rose from your place in the sand quickly, shuffling to reach him before he left you. “I’d rather not wait around.”

“Fine, come on then.” With that, you both set off into the trees.

The morning was full of birdsong and sunlight, bright buttery shafts of it cutting through the trees while the former echoed around you. 

“This would be a gorgeous place to vacation.” He echoed your thoughts as you followed a faint path in the brush. 

“I guess, would need a vast improvement.” Like a hotel, and an actual landing strip maybe. He laughed low, his eyes looking high into the trees.

“I don’t know, I don’t mind it being a bit rustic.” He pointed ahead, a few coconut trees catching his attention.

“This is more than a bit rustic I’d say. God I can’t wait until my parents find me. I should be by the pool right now, mingling with Louis.” Your palm smacks against the first of surely many bites rising on your skin. 

“That your boyfriend?” He’s serious now, scooping a couple of coconuts from the floor and dropping them into your arms.

“No, but he should be. He’s an insanely wealthy man my father invited to our private island, where I should be right now.” You sighed loudly, annoyed at the situation all over again. “Soon. Soon, I will be back where I belong. God, my mother is probably worried sick, you know?” You stood there, holding onto the coconuts he stacked in your arms before moving on to find more fruit.

“Sure.” He all but grunts, moving carefully through the brush. “I get it-“

“I wouldn’t be surprised if the military is out searching for me right now.” An image of handsome Louis frantically joining the search with your parents makes your stomach flip. 

I wonder if he is worried about me?

“Focus.” His voice rips you out of your daydream. “Let’s grab some more bananas, and head back.” He seems annoyed - he’s always annoyed.

“I hate this.” Your arms ache from holding the heavy coconuts. “Shouldn’t we be building a signal fire or something?” You can hear the whining tone, but you can’t stop it. Must everything be so hard?

“And just what are we meant to signal? Seen a bunch of planes, have you?” His tone is icy, his expression angry. “Cruise ships sailing by us every hour?” He finds a banana tree and cuts down a stalk, his movements aggressive.

“Well no-“

“Exactly. We’re on our own, which means until the military or whoever is looking for you finds this island- we have to work.” He props the bananas against his shoulder and turns back towards the camp, pointedly ignoring the way you struggle to keep up with him. 

-

You’re already covered in sweat by the time you make it back to camp, breathing hard and soaking through your clothes.

“Jesus Christ, I cannot with these things.” You dump the coconuts next to the water jugs, shaking out your aching limbs. He sets the bananas next to them before moving to grab some firewood from the tree line. Your eyes scan the beach, the waves gently lapping at the shore; it would be pretty enough without the eye sore that is the helicopter.

“I cannot wait to be away from this hunk of junk.” His movements stop at your words.

“That hunk of junk was my entire fucking livelihood. I don’t have a rich daddy to just buy me a new one.” He tosses the wood pieces angrily into the pit, ignoring the recoil his tone inspired. “Not everyone has it so easy, princess.”

“No, I guess they don’t, sorry-“ he spoke over you.

“Forget it.” He let out a sigh. “Let’s just do what we can to survive until someone finds us.” His expression was cold, and you can’t help the guilt that blooms in the pit of your stomach.

“Sounds good.” The rest of the day passed by in silence.

—

The days both fly, and crawl by and Frankie works each and every one of them. He works to find them food, he works to reinforce their shelter - to make them as comfortable as he possibly can, all while trying his hardest not to lose his mind. The picture of his little girl burned a hole in his heart when he looked at it each night. He only hoped she knew he’d come back to her.

Being stuck on an island by himself would have been bad enough; the loneliness, the isolation would no doubt be detrimental to his mental health, to his hopes of being found, but this? This had to be worse.

She helped, but only because he pushed her to. He knew that if it were up to her - they would have long since starved. He watched her as he braided more palm fronds to pad the sleeping platform, she was washing some of the clothes she’d worn as best she could, and he couldn’t help but admit that she was pretty. Her face was pleasant to look at when her nose wasn’t turned up. He can’t help but like the shape of her, imagining her skin would be soft and silky - he’d definitely been on this island too long. 

Doesn’t matter how attractive she is, she doesn’t want you, and you don’t want her.

He didn’t know if he was reminding himself, or convincing himself. 

A noise in the treeline behind him stops him mid-braid and for a moment, he thinks there might be someone else on the island, but he realizes what it is and grabs his knife. If he plays this right, tonight they’d eat like kings. 

-

A new appreciation was born of having to wash your own clothes, for electricity, for washing machines and dryers, for Tide pods. For the maids who did your laundry and for the people who did your drycleaning, for the neat drawers full of clean clothes waiting at home. 

For now, these would have to do. They wouldn’t smell like your favourite fabric softener, but they’d be clean enough to wear here at least. Francisco had set up a makeshift laundry line from the helicopter to a leaning palm tree, his things hanging as you added your own, and you briefly considered folding his things for him when his absence caught your attention. 

“Francisco?” you called out to him, ignoring the way your heart raced. Usually, when he went off to get water or fruit, he let you know; it was unlike him to leave without a word. There had to be a reason. He wouldn’t just abandon you, would he? 

Grab a hold of yourself, where the hell would he even go?

He crashed through the trees, triumphant and laughing, and you shoved away the altogether too-big feeling of relief that washed over you to see him. 

“Good news, Princess, there’s wild boar on the island.” It was the happiest you’d seen him, well, ever. “It’ll be hard, but I think I can catch one.” He was making his way towards his supplies, and very quickly, the relief turned to dread. “We’re going to feast-”

“You’re going to kill a wild pig?” It was very hard to keep the worry out of your tone, or off your face. 

“What’s the matter, never had pork chops?” He frowned now, his hands on his hips facing you. 

“I mean, yeah, but this is a little different than going to a butcher and grabbing a few chops. You’re going to hunt down the animal and kill it? I’m not into that. I don’t know if I could eat it.” He narrowed his eyes at you, no doubt preparing to rip you a new one. “It’s also incredibly dangerous - they have a tendency to gore people.” His expression changed at that, real consequences seemed to get through to him. 

“I mean, it’s not that different, but fine.” The wind had gone out of his sails, “I’ll see if I can catch something in the water - you okay with that?” He grabbed his fishing gear, raising an eyebrow, and you nodded before he made his way towards the water. You knew he was probably cursing you for ruining whatever he imagined cooking, but still, you couldn’t help but consider it a victory. 

Babe, the pig wouldn’t be dying on your watch, and neither would he. Instead, he returned to the camp a few hours later with a fish, a few crabs, and a look that said you better not have any complaints. You didn’t. None that you’d say out loud anyway.

Dinner was a quiet affair, tasty and filling with the fish and the added protein; you both went to sleep full, and ungored. 

-

Something loud dragged you up and out of the haze of sleep. It was still dark, and the sun had not risen yet. The sound was definitely something loud - probably just a plane. You shot up, scrambling out of the shelter to see if what you were hearing was real, Francisco barely moved. 

It was high up, but it was definitely a plane. 

“Francisco! There’s a plane. Where are the flares?” You all but barrelled into the shelter to shake him out of his dreams. 

“Hmmm, tired baby.” He was out of it but strong when he pulled you closer - you ignored the way your stomach flipped on its ass at his pet name. 

“Francisco, let me go, there’s a plane!” You smacked at his face lightly, just enough to wake him up.

“Huh? A plane?” your words broke through his sleep-addled brain, and he shot up. “What kind of plane?” He was out and grabbing at his bag momentarily before he swore loudly, a sigh filling the quiet of the dawn. “You called me for a commercial plane? You didn’t actually fire a flare, did you?” The blood drained from his face momentarily.

“No, I would have, but I didn’t know where you put the flare gun.” You frowned at him, annoyed. “I thought they’d see it.”

“Thank Christ.” He took a deep breath, his hands on his hips, “That Is a commercial flight, and if you’d fired the flare, it would have not only been a waste of a flare, but you could have burned the shelter down, could have ruined our supplies.” He seemed angry, and that, in turn, pissed you off. 

“I didn’t think about that, I was trying to help-“ You crossed your arms, ignoring the annoyed look on his face.

“With the altitude that plane has, it wouldn’t matter if we had a thousand flares; come to me before you try to signal anyone, got it Princess?” He didn’t wait for a response, instead, he got back into bed and didn’t mention the incident again. 

You got back into the shelter, laying in the pre-dawn glow - conflicting feelings fighting for dominance within you. You stared at his back, at the soft curl of hair he wore like a halo, and the fluttering of your stomach won out for just a moment. The solid press of him holding you close while still asleep was strangely welcome, although you’d never admit it. His condescending tone came to mind then, he had a habit of speaking down to you, and while you could admit you weren’t the most knowledgeable in survival, you still deserved to be spoken to like an adult. 

You fell asleep fighting the urge to both press yourself close, and smack him upside the head.

-

When morning well and truly came, it found you both in a terrible mood. 

He was quiet, much like he always was when he was annoyed, so you left him with his thoughts and set off to find more fruit through the path you’d both taken to traveling every few days. Luckily, the island was bountiful, and there were plenty of bananas, coconuts, and even some mangoes, but there was only so much you could take and you decided to venture out a bit further, keeping your eyes peeled for something different. 

After a while, you found a berry bush, a small variety you didn’t recognize at once, but they were a very gorgeous, deep purple colour. Thinking he might appreciate a change as much as you, you picked a few handfuls and wrapped them up in a banana leaf before continuing your scavenging. 

This was where your luck ran out, however, and if there were other varieties of fruit, they weren’t for you to find. Instead, you picked up a few mangoes and a coconut on your way back. 

You found him looking through his things from the helicopter, a scowl on his face. 

“Hey, I found some berries-” He looked up at the sound of your voice, his brow furrowed at the smile on your face. “I figured you were probably getting sick of the same fruit we’d been eating. I was hoping to find something else, but no luck.” You set them down in front of him. 

“You didn’t eat this, did you?” his voice was curt and you frowned. 

“No, I thought we could share them-”

“These are toxic.” He tossed them into the sand, burying them with a heavy sigh. “Do me a favour and don’t grab shit you don’t know for sure is edible. You could have made us really sick.” He turned then and continued with his inventory. Embarrassment and annoyance burned through your veins. 

“You don’t have to be such an asshole about it, you know.” The words came on almost by themselves, bubbling up in your throat at the sanctimonious look on his face. 

“What?” He paused and turned to look you in the face. 

“You don’t have to be so fucking mean to me all the time.” You crossed your arms, holding in the frustration that seemed to expand in your lungs like a horrible balloon. “All you do is talk down to me. I said I was sorry about almost using the flare-” He huffed out an almost amused laugh and it boiled your blood. “It’s not funny! I’m stuck out here with you and all you do is yell, or talk to me like I’m stupid. I’m a person, and I deserve basic human decency-”

“What’s my last name?” He crossed his arms, his voice calm, but his question stole the words right out of your mouth. 

“What?” 

“You heard me - what is my last name? What do you know about me? Aside from the fact that my first name is Francisco, and that I’m a pilot.” He stood, knocking the sand off his shorts. 

“I don’t think you told me-”

“No, I haven’t - do you know anything about who might be looking for me? Do you have any idea if I have anyone waiting for me to get home?” Your stomach sank, the anger slowly bleeding away and being replaced with shame. “Any idea if I’m married, or if I have kids?” He’s angry now, the scowl bigger than ever before. 

“No, I-I don’t know.” You took a step back. 

“No. No, you don’t. You don’t know that I’m divorced, that my parents are probably worried sick. You don’t know that I have a daughter, that her name is Tatiana, and that she’s probably thinking her dad abandoned her, or worse - that he’s dead.” You recoiled at that. 

“I didn’t know you had a daughter.” Your voice feels small, and the shame in your belly grows, vines of guilt wrapping themselves around your throat.

“How could you? You’ve never fucking asked me a single thing about who I am as a person! All you’ve done is complain. Complain and talk to me endlessly about how much money your parents have, how you should be on a private island, and how much of a fucking eyesore my livelihood is, and any time I’ve opened my mouth to respond or explain how we’re both stuck here, you’ve spoken over me.” His words cut at you - you don’t know this man at all, and you never ever cared to ask. You don’t respond. 

He was well and truly angry now, kicking sand away from himself in his frustration. 

“I’m sorry-” He put his hands up. 

“Don’t. I don’t need you to apologize. I need you to pull your weight, and maybe realize that I’m also a person, and that all your money means jackshit to me. I need you to treat me like a human being, not just a sounding board.” He walked away, leaving you with your guilt - a sad balloon deflating alone.

-

They were both quiet that night. With Francisco, it was mostly out of anger. The feelings of inadequacy and frustration he’d been bottling up had finally been spoken aloud, and now he was processing them, all while still being stuck on this godforsaken island.

For her, he could see it was pure guilt. From the subdued expression, from her quiet words and general withdrawal, he knew no one had ever been so honest with her before. He would have almost felt guilty, if he hadn’t been so annoyed and hurt at the way she’d treated him. Instead, they both avoided each other for the rest of the night - a silent shared meal before wordlessly falling asleep in the shelter.

He woke the next morning to the feeling of her pressed against him again.

Her deep, even breaths against the back of his neck were embarrassingly welcome, and he ignored the way his body responded. He let out a low, deep sigh, grateful that he was facing away, a shudder passing through his body at the thought of having to explain why he was as hard as a rock. 

His hand traveled down to where her leg was draped over his hip, unable to resist feeling her skin for just a moment before he slowly untangled their limbs, and made his way towards the water. 

—

Days passed, and they passed without much conversation. This particular morning was somehow even more quiet despite the constant sound of waves lapping at the shore. The anger had fizzled out, and what was left was more akin to silent resignation. The two of you danced around each other, performing what were now everyday tasks without uttering a single word. The hours slipping by wordlessly, that is, until your scream cut through the silence. 

“What is it?” He was at your side quickly, his eyes wide with something that looked suspiciously like worry. 

“I think I stepped on a shell-” The sand around your foot was turning pink, your eyes widening at the sight.

“Okay, take a deep breath and sit here-” He guided you with surprisingly soft hands towards one of the logs around the burned-out fire. “Don’t move - try to keep your foot out of the sand.” He stood then, walking away.

“Where are you going?” Your voice sounded strange, almost whiny, and you ignored the little pang of despair. 

Get a hold of yourself.

“Just going to get the first aid kit.” The cut throbbed as you waited, and soon he returned with one of the water bottles and a big red case. He walked with purpose, the look on his face shamed you to have been so clueless. This was a man that had obviously dealt with many a scraped knee. “Okay, let's see what we’re dealing with.”

He kneeled on the sand before you, taking your foot into his hands. You hissed when he softly brushed the sand away.

“Tsk, come on now Princess. I know you can be braver for me than that.” His hands were soft, and so was his tone, and it filled you with something, comfort amongst other, less wholesome thoughts. You shook them away, chewing on your bottom lip, watching as he played nurse. “Nothing too crazy, just a little cut.” 

He rinsed the sand carefully, his brow furrowed in concentration. 

“Okay, this might sting a little.” He rifled through the open case beside him, grabbing a little pack of what looked to be antiseptic. “Deep breath for me.” He watched you then, waiting until you let the breath go before wiping the wound clean. The sting almost slapped you across the face, every instinct screaming to pull your foot away from the mean man. 

“Okay, okay - you’re okay.” his hands engulfed your ankle, holding you firmly in place. “Good job, we’re almost done.” he spoke low, opening up a waterproof bandaid and carefully covering the tiny wound. “There we go. All done.” He pressed a small kiss to the top of your foot, his eyes widening after. “Sorry- force of habit.” He laughed awkwardly. 

“Thank you. It feels much better.” You felt the heat in your chest and in your ears and ignored it, ignored the whole mess of feelings blooming in your gut for him. 

“Yeah, sure.” He collected his things before scratching at the back of his neck and it thrilled you to realize that he looked as flushed as you felt. “I’m going to go catch something.” He got up quickly, moving with purpose away from where you sat, curtailing any further discussion. 

-

He hadn’t expected it, but she’d taken his words to heart. He’d felt terrible after going off on her. The embarrassment on her face at how she’d treated him, although completely warranted, pulled at his heartstrings. He couldn’t exactly say why - it wasn’t something he could explain, not something he wanted to delve into. Whether that was for his benefit or hers, he couldn’t be sure. 

She no longer had to be told to fetch fruit, or water. She did her best to keep the camp organized, she no longer spoke about her wealth, or Louis. She was quiet most of the time, in fact, and he wasn’t sure if it was better, or worse. 

Where she mostly avoided his annoyance throughout the day, she still clung to him at night. He never told her, convincing himself it was to spare her further embarrassment, ignoring the little part of him that knew it was because he was terrified that if she knew, she’d stop. 

-

Things were different, that was for sure. The days passed and you had to admit to yourself that you’d been such an ungrateful, horrid little - well, Princess. He’d been completely right about you, and he’d had the patience of a saint. You saw him with different eyes now. You saw a competent, strong, intelligent man who up until now, was the only reason you’d survived on this godforsaken island as long as you had. It was well and truly humbling. 

Instead of complaining, now you did your best to pull your weight. The goal was to show him that you were grateful, that you weren’t just some spoiled rich girl, that you could be something other than that, anyway. You wanted - needed to prove to him that you weren’t a burden. 

-

It had been a particularly hot day, the sun beating down on the both of you with a vengeance. Sunset couldn’t come fast enough, and once it did, you cherished it like never before. 

He dug around in the helicopter while you sat on the log, enjoying the tiny, but very welcome breeze coming off the water. 

“Oh wow, I forgot about this,” You heard the smile in his voice, “How would you feel about a drink?” He held a bottle in his hand, making his way over to your place in the sand. 

“I’d feel great actually, if you don’t mind sharing.” 

“Bottle’s almost full, more than enough for both of us.” He sat next to you, taking a generous sip of the amber liquid before handing it to you. It was warmer than you would have liked, but the burn was pleasant enough that you didn’t care. “Good, right?” His smile is as breezy as the ocean, and just as welcome. 

“Very good,” you couldn't help but admit before taking another long sip, “I can already feel it.” You smiled, handing it back to him. 

“We’ll be cheap drunks tonight, that’s for sure.” He took another long swallow, and you couldn’t help but stare at the way his throat worked. You watched the fire instead, focusing on the embers as the drink settled in your stomach. The heat spreads through your limbs, making you feel heavy where you sit beside him. 

You both sat in silence for a time, passing the bottle back and forth until most of it was gone, and your head felt like a balloon barely tethered to your body. 

“This would be such a beautiful place…without the whole ‘being stranded’ thing.” He held the bottle loosely, his eyes no doubt taking in the gorgeous sunset.

“You mean you don’t love being stuck out here with me?” You bumped his shoulder, and it vaguely registers how much you missed physical touch. He laughed, full-throated. 

“Oh yeah, this is definitely heaven.” His expression is exaggerated, “You know what I mean.” He gestures to where the water laps at the shore. “This is a paradise, just needs a resort, and an airport.” He sighed, his mood is the friendliest you’ve ever seen. 

“Yeah, it would definitely make a difference.” You leaned back and listened to the water. “Happy you’re here though, woulda died without you.” You didn’t mean to say it, but it’s absolutely true.

“Oh, I don’t know-” He shrugged, modest and much kinder than you deserved.

“Yes, you do-” You shoved at his arm softly, “You’re the only reason we’re still alive, super nice to me despite the fact that I can be a spoiled little brat.” You laughed. 

“Can’t argue with that.” He laughed, “I like brats, though.” He smiled, and something that feels very much like butterflies fluttered around in your stomach. He didn't say anything else, and neither did you, the butterflies lingered, though, well into the night, and they only seemed to get stronger whenever his eyes found yours. 

“It’s getting late-” He puts the bottle down, “-we should get some rest.”

You nodded, not trusting your voice, instead, you just followed him towards the shelter. 

It’s a strange, unfamiliar dance you’re both doing - the polar opposite of how things have been between you. Shy smiles replace cold stares, and a curious longing takes hold of you. It would embarrass you to fall prey to your baser instincts - there’s something in the way his eyes tracked you that says you weren’t alone in your feelings. 

-

Something has shifted, he can feel it in the tense energy between them. A pleasant buzz flowed through his veins, danced along his nerves like a current, beat through his heart, and into his loins. She was so close, he could practically feel her warmth. 

She sighed beside him, her legs rubbing together like a cricket and he knew in his gut, she felt the same energy. 

“Good night, Frankie.” She whispered the words, as though someone might overhear. His eyes clenched shut at the feel of her breath ruffling through his hair, closer than she’d ever let herself get, awake anyway. 

“Night-” Everything in him wanted to turn over, to feel her fingers ruffle through his hair, but something held him back. He stayed still, his body tense despite how relaxed the alcohol had made him. 

“It’s a bit cold–” Her voice is a bit closer, so close he felt it in the shell of his ear, “-okay if I scoot closer?” Her hands pressed against his back, her legs tangled with his, and he knows in his bones, it’s just a ploy, but he stayed still nonetheless. 

“Sure-get close.” He took her hand and wrapped it around his middle, holding it well above his waist, letting out a deep breath.

“Oh-okay.” She pressed her face into his shoulder, and every cell in his body screamed at him to turn around, to kiss her, bury his tongue in her mouth, and then trail it down, bury it between her legs, but he shook his head, convincing himself she just wants this.

“Night.” His voice cracked, but he said nothing more. He felt her staring at him, letting out a little sigh of her own. 

“Night, Frankie.”

—

The days following your drunken night passed by in mostly silence, with a polite avoidance from him, and an annoyed quiet from you. 

It was no secret that you had the power to annoy the hell out of him, but you’d thought there’d been something else. The look in his eye when he’d told you he liked brats, the sound of his voice when he’d held you close, the considerable boner pressing against your ass when you’d woken up to him wrapped around you that next morning. 

Maybe you’d misread him, maybe it wasn’t flirting, maybe he’d just been stroking your ego, being nice to you, and you’d practically thrown yourself at him only to be.. What? Ignored? 

-

The wind whipped around as you both ate dinner a few quiet days later, the sky dark and pregnant with the promise of a heavy rain, filling you with worry. The shelter was sturdy, you knew that, but you didn’t think it would hold up against a storm like the one that had blown you both onto the island to begin with. 

“I don’t think we’ll be enjoying a fire tonight,” His eyes stared at the sky, same as you, “we should bring the clothes into the shelter; it’s going to pour soon.” He got up, tossing his banana peels into the fire pit just as the first few drops of water sprinkled down on top of you.

A nervous current flowed through your body as you made yourself comfortable within the shelter, making you acutely aware of his closeness. 

The rain came down in sheets as you both lay there, filling the silence with its rhythmic pattering against the tarp. Lightning flashed, illuminating the space between you. A shiver ran through you at the look on his face. 

“You okay?” His hand shot out, landing softly on your arm, raising goosebumps as it slid down towards your elbow.

“I’m fine.” You shudder, but all at once, annoyance springs up at his rejection the other night - you turn to give him your back. 

“Are you… angry at me?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes.

“Why would I be angry at you? It’s not like I threw myself at you or anything.” 

“What?” His voice sounded incredulous, “You mean, when we were drinking?”

“Yes!” You sighed, “I was all over you. I guess I was wrong.” All at once, you’re embarrassed, and desperate to get away from his incredulous expression. The storm, however, holds you both hostage.

“Hm.” He sounded almost amused, and your stomach dropped, “Well, if I’d known that all you needed was to be fucked, things would have been different.” 

Your stomach did a backflip onto its ass, shock, and pure adrenaline coursing through your body at his words. You turned slowly to face him.

“Sorry?” It came out almost stupidly, and he smiled a very self-satisfied smile.

“I said, if I’d known, that in order for you to stop being such a brat,” He moved in closer, forcing you to lay back and make space for him between your legs. “All you needed was for me to fuck you, I would have done it sooner.” He hovered above you, close enough that he must’ve surely felt your heart pounding where his chest met yours. It’s with Herculean strength, that you composed yourself, albeit nervously.

“Well, I guess I just thought you were more perceptive.” The bold words were completely at odds with the tremor in your voice; he laughed, full-throated, and it sent a current across every inch of you. 

“Or maybe, I thought you’d open that pretty mouth of yours, and say what it is you wanted.” He pressed forward, dragging his lips across your jaw before capturing your mouth in a kiss. It started soft, and for a moment, the storm disappeared, your hands finding themselves tangled up in his messy waves, and then his tongue pressed forward, and it pulled a moan from somewhere deep inside you. 

There was no more talking. Only the feeling of your heart racing, your cunt aching, and his comforting weight pressing you into the shelter, that is, before he shifted his hips and the considerable heft of him was slotted perfectly against where you needed him most. 

The slip of his warm palm from the trembling skin of your belly raised goosebumps in its wake, and pulled a gasp from your mouth into his when it glided under your shit and landed on your breast. Those deft fingers you’d seen working away on all manner of things on this island, now plucked deliciously at your nipple. 

It was almost violent, both the storm outside, and your haste to divest him of his clothes. The need to feel that golden skin on yours was a hunger pang, both terrible and euphoric, that burned as brightly as the flashes of lightning that lit up the shelter. His eyes shone with the same intensity you felt, and instantly, he moved away to help you, too, the two of you scrambling with a ferocity that bordered on anger. 

“God, you’re so fucking hot–” He hissed the words onto your face before kissing you again, and any softness was gone, his teeth clicked against yours before his tongue took yours and laid down the law. Your skin burned with want, your fingers digging into the muscles of his back before you moved your hand down between you to finally grasp his cock. He pulled away from your mouth to stare down where you held onto him, drunk with the sight of just how big he looked in your grip. 

“Is this what you’ve been wanting?” He held himself above you, watching as you stroked him slowly. 

“God, yes, I wanted this - I want you to fuck me–” you swiped your thumb over the head, fat pearly drops of his own arousal making it slippery, “I want you to come inside me, make me feel good-” You didn’t get to finish your sentence before his mouth claimed yours once more and pulled your hand away in order to slip himself between the lips of your sex, coating himself in you for a moment before he finally slipped inside. 

“Jesus Christ, man.” You breathed the words onto his face at the stretch, at the way he seemed to have taken up every inch of space inside you, making you overflow with him. He didn’t give you any time to adjust, his hips snapping in a toe-curling rhythm. For a few minutes, there were no more words left, the only thing you can manage is to whimper, then moan in earnest when he ducked his head down to capture a nipple in his mouth. Your fingers like talons in his hair, keeping him close to your breast while your cunt soaked him in your want.

He let go of the perky bud with a pop, his eyes glazed. 

“Fuck baby, I’m gonna come so fast,” he almost slurred his words, pussy drunk, “your tight little cunt is gonna make me fucking come–” He sped up, his cock punching into you hard enough to make your breasts bounce, hard enough to make a lewd noise where you’re joined and you desperately wanted him to slow down so you can catch up. 

“Wait–” Your legs squeezed where they’d hitched up high on his hips, “Frankie–” His rhythm stuttered for a moment before he thrust again, deep, filling you with his come, and you almost cried at the thought that he might be done so soon.

“Fuck-” He ground himself as deep as he could, milking himself inside you for a moment before pulling away abruptly, hissing through the oversensitivity to look at his handiwork, “that’s so fucking pretty baby, look at me dripping out-” He smiled at you, almost laughing at the look of anguish on your face at the emptiness, “what’s wrong?” His hand rubbed at your belly for a moment before it slipped down, and two big fingers filled you back up. “I know you didn’t come, but you don’t think I’m just going to leave you like this, right?” He pumped slowly, making you keen when he pressed against something holy inside of you. “No, I got you, baby.” 

One moment he was kneeling between your legs, and the next, he was flat on his belly, his face pressed up against your pussy, tongue right on the button of your clit. 

The moan you let out was obscene. His tongue circled your clit with devastating precision, over and over again, until you were staring down at him with your mouth open, begging and praying incoherently for him to keep going just like that. His eyes were bright, laser-focused on you just like his tongue, and his free hand came up to hold onto your breast, pinching at your nipple, and all of a sudden, the sting snapped, the wave crested, and you practically folded in half, swearing loudly as you gushed around his fingers.

-

You weren’t sure how much time passed, but the storm got a little stronger, and louder as you both lay in the shelter, quiet and content to hold each other. Lightning turned the darkened skies into day for a moment before the boom of thunder shook you to your core. 

“It’s okay, just loud.” He said it softly into your ear with the same patience he’d had when he bandaged your foot, the comforting words dads usually used for their children.

“I know, it just startled me.” 

“Force of habit.”

“Your daughter, is she scared of thunderstorms?” You turned towards him, making yourself comfortable in his embrace.

“Only at first.” His smile was wistful, “She always jumps from the first big boom but then laughs,” his eyes crinkled, and it was hard not to notice just how handsome he is, the care and love he has for his daughter shining out through his eyes. “Sorry, I just miss her a lot.” It faltered, that handsome smile, and it made you sad for him.

“Don’t be sorry. I can’t imagine how hard all this must be for you.” Guilt swirled in your chest at the way you’d treated him before, at your general attitude towards everyone up until getting stranded. “I’m sorry about how I was–” He shook his head no, much too kind, kinder than you deserved, and you pushed through. 

“No, let me say it. I’m sorry about how I treated you - I was horrible.”

“You weren’t that bad.” 

“Yes, I was, so spoiled and insensitive, I didn’t even give your situation a second thought. All I cared about was myself and I can’t even believe it now. I’m sorry. I’m really lucky to have you here.”

“Thank you,” he smiled, one of his palms rubbing your back soothingly, “you’ve definitely had a big turnaround.” He laughed, and you smacked his arm playfully. “I’m lucky you’re here too. I would have been miserable by myself.” He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, and you couldn’t help but sigh at the simple comfort human touch could bring. “Not sure you would have ever agreed to go out with me had we not been stuck here together.” 

His words were light, and for a moment, you wanted to protest, but you didn’t think you could, and it shamed you further.

“Oh god, what a moron I was.” You groaned, pressing your face into the warm skin of his neck. 

“You weren’t a moron, maybe a little oblivious, and I don’t mean that in a cruel way. You and I are in very different circles. I doubt our paths would have even crossed, but I’m glad they did because as much as you have the power to drive me nuts, I really like you.” His hands continued their comforting sweep across your skin, lulling you into the most relaxed state you could remember being in, in a long time. 

“I would have been an idiot to not give you a chance. You’re so sweet and smart, and so strong, so fucking handsome, too. You take care of me and make me laugh, and you have done your best to keep us both safe and sound and I’m just - I’m ashamed that maybe in the past I would have been too shallow and stuck up to notice.” The storm abates as you confess some feelings you’d been harboring. 

“Don’t beat yourself up about it. I think I probably would have dismissed you just as quickly for similarly shallow reasons. As gorgeous as you are, I most likely would have written you off as some rich trust fund-baby.” He half-shrugged.

“I’m still sorry. It’s because of me that we’re here.” 

“I could have said no.”

“I pressured you with money. I pushed even though you’d said it was unsafe.”

“I still could have said no. Let’s just forget it all, everything that happened before we got here. Point is we’re here, and we have to keep it together until someone finds us.” His hand kept its rhythm, sweeping over any and all skin, casting its spell of comfort until both it and the storm lulled you into a deep, dreamless sleep. 

-----

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#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #francisco morales #frankie morales #triple frontier au #frankie x reader #frankie morales x you #francisco morales x reader #francisco catfish morales #frankie catfish morales

[dcxdpdabbles]

Cave Boy Danny is a dad and that one fact makes Tim less suspicious of him.

Because the contingency plan for Bruce is his kids. It's also really concerning HOW young Bruce is a parent. (How old is he?!)

And this story won't be complete without Dani showing up to cause mayhem while calling for her Father.

She commits to the bit without even knowing all the details. Or the bit.

So, in Cave Au, I had planned to have Danny call Dani, his adoptive sister, instead of his daughter to make the Waynes much more nervous about him, but I'll write a different Au for you to make up for it.

Dani Fenton is the new kid in Tim's class. She's moved with her single father, Daniel Fenton, from a small town in Minnesota. At first, there is not much to her, even with her large brian.

She's a scholarship girl with a mind for chemistry that could make any scientist green with envy. Her uniform must be better tailored, likely second-hand, because it hangs loosely around her body as if made for a taller girl. She doesn't talk to other students, often popping in headphones when they are dismissed to the next class or during breaks.

Most of Gotham Acadamy doesn't want to interact with her, and she's completely fine with returning the sentiment. Personally, Tim only noticed her because she had a Dumpty Humpty sticker on her laptop.

He's surprised to find anyone in his generation who even heard the band, much less enjoyed it enough to have merchandise. It was a rock band that was popular twenty years ago when Bruce was a teenager.

Tim only knows about them because Bruce sometimes puts them on when he wants to work on any Bat vehicles.

He recognized her sticker, but it wasn't a reason to go over and start a conversation with her. The only action this realization caused was Tim pulling up his playlist and pressing one of Dumpty Humpty's songs.

No, what caused him to talk to her was an incident that happened three weeks after she arrived at Gotham Acadamy. It's a well-known fact that scholarship kids were picked on. Even though Waynes attempted to curb the bullying, it still happened to the kids they gave financial assistance to.

Tim had stumbled across a group of girls surrounding Dani by the soccer field. She was sitting on the grassy hill overlooking the field, and around her were various art supplies. Dani had likely been painting when the girls had rudely interrupted her.

It didn't take any of his Bat training to see how they were mocking her, and he sped up just as one girl reached out to try and snatch her screech book out of her hand.

The key word being tried.

Dani had been much faster, for she not only tugged her book out of the bully's reach but also kicked out the feet from under the girl in the same motion.

"Nice try." Dani taunted, her accent just peeking through. "Now, do me a favor and get your daddy to buy you a yacht you can't drive instead of bothering me."

"At least my Dad has money!" The other girl screeched.

Dani snorted. "Oh boy, you really cut me where it hurts. How will I ever recover from that comeback?"

"You Bitch!" A blond girl yelled. Tim knows her. Tina Lumière, the youngest of Harry Lunmiere- a family who ran luxurious vacation services. A family that was always quick to lure in investors. She's been trying to flirt with Tim since Bruce took him in, convinced he'll fund her family business if she bats her eyelashes hard enough.

Tim hates interacting with her.

"Yeah, Yeah, Yeah. I'm a poor bitch that won't amount to anything, and I need to stay away from Timbo Dragon so you can go make rich stupid babies with him."

"That's not his name-"

"Look, I only have one day of the school week where I have a free period, and you're wasting it on this." Dani waves her hand around the group with an over-exaggerated squint. "I mean, honestly, why would I go after some guy? I'm a lesbian."

"You are?" The brunette in the circle of bullies asks, with too much interest. Dani sends her a wink, and the girl actually blushes. Tim is suddenly reminded of Steph, and that causes him to smile.

"That's not his name!" Tina shouts, stepping in between the flirting girls. Dani's face clouds over in distaste as she continues. "His name is Timothy Drake. I know you're lying about not being interested in him! I saw you staring at him in biology."

"I was looking at his rock band sweater. It's a band my dad likes-"

"Shut up!" Tina slaps Dani across the face, seemingly smug, but it doesn't last long since the raven-haired girl springs up with a nasty right hook.

It hits Tina right in the eye, knocking the girl down like her friend. She screams, which triggers all her friends to jump at Dani. Despite being smaller and outnumbered, Dani gives as good as she gets, throwing a girl over her shoulder and punching another in the throat.

Tim picked up his speed, walking into a fast run. He barely has the mind to pull out his phone and point it in the group's direction. "Hey, break it up! Break it up!"

The two holding onto Dani's hair let go like they've been burned. If a teacher had tried to stop the fight, they wouldn't have gotten far, but Tim is a Wayne. They have much more power than some poor staff.

"Tim," Tina wails. Her eye is already starting to bruise. She's going to look terrible for a while while it heals. "She attacked me!"

"No, she didn't," He says, rolling his eyes. He waves his phone at them. "Don't lie. I recorded the whole thing. Also, harassing others is super unattractive."

He didn't, but they don't know that. Tina's face falls apart as he helps Dani get her things and then escorts her to the main building. He doubts that will stop her harassment, but hopefully, it will detain them long enough for him to find a better solution.

"Thanks," Dani says after they finish walking. "That was cool of you."

"Don't mention it." He gives her a standard Wayne-dizzy smile. "What of mine sweater were you talking about?"

She grins. "The Dumpty Humpty one.'

"Oh yeah, that's my dad's. He loves the band."

Her eyes light up. "Mine does, too. Maybe we can get our dads to meet and discuss it."

Great. Dani Fenton was another opportunist trying to get Bruce to meet her parents. Pity.

"I'm sure there will be a chance in the future. Maybe the parent-teacher conferences, we'll run into each other," He says with a laugh, not giving her a direct answer. Dani nods and then walks off to her next class. He reports the girls, compiles enough evidence, and when he's sure the school will step in, he doesn't think about the afternoon.

Then, four months later, it's parent-teacher conferences. Bruce and Tim are just about finished visiting all his teachers, that are falling over themselves to get on Brucie's good side when Dani appears, dragging her dad behind her.

"That's him." She says, and Daniel's face lights up.

"You're the Dumpty Humpty fan?" He asks Bruce. His dad has no choice but to play along even though Tim knows he's dead tired and wants to go home.

"Of course. Who doesn't love a good Fairy Tale Ending to listen to on the way home?" Bruce laughs, and Daniel's grin widens.

"That's great, but I like Bloody Prince Charming more. Daniel Fenton, by the way." He holds his hand, and Bruce shakes it slightly more interest now. It's not that Dumpty Humpty isn't just old; it wasn't popular in this part of the country, so it's even rarer to find fans in Gotham.

"Bruce Wayne."

"Nice to meet ya!" Daniel chirps- seeing anyone other than Dick be that cheerful is odd. "Wish we can talk more, but I got to get to this one's art class."

"Of course," Bruce says, even though he's surprised they walked away so quickly without asking for anything more of them. Most try swinddle a second meeting somehow.

Dani waves Tim goodbye, and the Fentons are off down the hall, chatting between them in ordinary, eased tones. It's odd but a forgotten interaction for Tim after a few days.

Not so much for Bruce.

Tim finds out a month later that Bruce not only met up with Mr. Fenton again but even asked for his number on their second meeting. Then the two men went out for dinner, went to the mall, went shopping, and even did some charity fundraiser together.

Bruce would often message Daniel that it felt like he was the new teenager. Tim still did not think it odd.

Only when Damian burst into his room, dragging the rest of their siblings in. The youngest had called on a sibling meeting to discuss a new issue that worried him about Bruce.

"Tim, who is Father's suitor, and what are his intentions with Father?" The boy asked after everyone had settled.

"What?"

"Babybat has a point. I haven't seen Bruce this interested since Catwoman first appeared," Dick added. "I really hope this lover sticks around."

"What lover?" Tim questions Jason, who shrugs.

"A Daniel Fenton? The old man has been going steady with him for about a month now. Haven't you noticed? You were the one that introduced him."

"No, I've been focused on the Phantom case," Tim says, gesturing to the board covered in red yarn and a news clipping of the new hero.

Phantom had appeared a while back, going through the city and helping the little people. He's even harder to catch a glimpse of then Batman, but he's been helping to slowly cut down the pity crime and muggings, letting the Bats focus on the big guns like the Rouges.

The Bats had been trying to pin him down to offer assistance and gradated for all his hard work. They just catch him since Phantom is a meta and always slips away at the last second.

"Whatever the case may be." Damian started up again. "We must protect Father from those with less than honorable intentions."

"Hear, Hear," Steph and Duke cry, lifting up their juice boxes that Cass had passed out. It wasn't a proper sibling meeting without snacks.

"He can't be all bad," Tim said. "He's a single father."

"Having a kid makes him more worthy?"

"In my experience, step-parents have been really great." But Dana was incredible like that, so maybe Tim put too much faith in Bruce's dating life.

They all agree to closely monitor Daniel Fenton and his daughter Dani. There may be more than meets the eye.

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Single Dad Au #The bat kids are always keeping a eye on Bruce's dating life #spirit halloween #Danny and Dani are just vibbing #In which Dani flew into the ghost zone to explore and found out time warped so she missed twenty years back home #Danny pretends to be her dad to give her a ID #Yes Danny is the Spiderman of Gotham

[zepskies]

Hello. I was wondering if you could write an imagine in the BMD-verse (been following it for a while now; love, love, love it, by the way!) where Ben cries?

Like something really bad happens in general or to the Reader, and he losses it? I mean, personally, I have never known this man to cry, and I would love to see you conjure up something that could possibly elicite that reaction from him.

But no pressure - will definitely understand if you don't want to write it!

Oooh, so you really wanna kill me, huh? 🫠😭😭

Lol it's okay, thank you for loving Break Me Down!! It's one of my favorite story verses that I've been able to create on here. ❤️❤️

This request was difficult for me on multiple levels, but I think I was able to pull it off? (I'll let you be the judge.) This is set in the BMD-verse, shortly after "Love Actually."

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader

Word Count: 2,400 Tags/Warnings: Major angst, show-level violence, hurt/comfort, "twist" ending (you'll want to read until the end, trust me).

Imagine: Ben loses you.

Ben restrained another sigh when he realized you were no longer walking next to him.

He turned and saw you stopping in another damn kiosk, this time looking at a selection of Pashmina scarves. As if you didn’t have enough clothes.

“We’re not here for a damn shopping spree,” he called after you.

He ignored the people who glanced at him as they walked past, a couple of them even shooting him an annoyed look.

One didn’t just stop in the middle of a busy sidewalk in New York City, but as with most societal protocols, Ben couldn't really give a fuck.

He almost started tapping his foot. Instead, he crossed his arms as he glared in your general direction. You were smiling and chatting with the woman selling her wares as you finished the transaction.

Ben at least could admire the view of you bent over in those tight jeans and ankle boots. You also wore the dark green winter coat he bought you last month, lined with faux fur to keep you warm.

When you eventually came back to him, you shot him an amused smile. You held a new scarf in shades of green and blue, to match your coat. But you also held out a new pair of leather gloves for him.

“Here you go, Grumpy. I didn't forget about you,” you teased. He raised a wry brow at you and took the gloves. He inspected them with a half-critical eye.

“And how much did these cost, five cents?”

You rolled your eyes and kept walking. He caught up with you and slipped the gloves into his pocket.

“My hands don’t get cold anyway,” he reminded you. And you often complained that his body heat was like a radiator, especially at night. Although, you hadn’t been complaining since the winter turned frigid this February.

“All right, whatever. Just don’t say I never get you anything,” you quipped. “Besides, you know you love to accessorize.”

A smirk pulled at Ben’s lips. The gloves were a half-assed gift, but he still wore the watch you got him for Christmas proudly on his wrist. That was a nice silver Rolex.

“All I know is, we’d better not be late for this damn meeting,” he said. “I don’t wanna hear Mallory’s fucking mouth.”

The two of you had made a day of coming into the city, hitting a nice brunch spot and ice skating at Rockefeller center before your date had been rudely interrupted—by a call for a new mission.

Grace Mallory had been a bit cryptic on the phone, but it had something to do with the mess Ben left of the drug cartels in South America. After they got back to the States, Ben left that “business” behind…he just hadn’t thought of how that would shake out in Colombia.  

So now, you two were headed to the Supe Affairs building. You slipped your arm around his, while his hands were in his pockets. You looked up at him with a smile.

“Try to enjoy the little things, Ben,” you told him. “We had mimosas and some bougie ass lobster tails with our eggs this morning. I skated circles around you on the ice. And now we’re going to get some work done.”

“On our day off,” he retorted.

“To be fair, you made the mess, Mr. Kingpin,” you pointed out. “We’ve just gotta clean it up…as usual.”

“Hey," he eyed you. But you both knew the warning had little heat behind it.

He still reached for your cheek and brushed his thumb across it. He felt how cold your face was, and he stopped for a moment in the middle of the sidewalk. Neither of you cared when pedestrians gave you dirty looks as they passed by.

Maybe you were right though. Maybe he should take stock of the small moments. Ben held your face with both hands and caressed some warmth back into your skin.

Your smile softened, and your eyes closed when his lips found their way to your forehead. He then took the newly bought scarf out of your hand and wrapped it comfortably around your neck.

“What a gentleman,” you said, with a small grin.

Ben smirked down at you…until his face fell.

He heard the whistle of the bullet before he saw it.

It took him another second to move, grabbing you and shielding you with his entire body when it hit his back. The bullet itself bounced harmlessly off his skin, but the inner compartment of Novichok exploded like a small smoke bomb. The smell was too familiar to him to be anything else.

Ben coughed and was forced to push you away from him before the gas reached you. You yelped and almost tripped on your feet, but you scrambled back against the wall of a drycleaners. Your wide eyes met his as his knees buckled; the gas had clouded around his head.

“Run!” he shouted through fits of coughing.

You hesitated, for just a second. But when another bullet ricocheted into the wall behind you, near your head, you ducked and had to take off running.

You wove through the busy sidewalk, pushing people out of your way as you went. Whoever was after him this time, you had a feeling these were the people Ben had pissed off in Colombia.

Fuck! You sprinted past an alleyway and saw the hand coming for your arm, but even when you turned, there was another man, dressed a black military-style uniform with his face covered by a black mask, waiting to grab you from behind.

It was muscle memory. You released an elbow into the man’s neck, a punch straight into his teeth and nose, then kicked his knee out with the heel of your boot.

You grabbed your gun from under your jacket and would've shot him, except the next man wheelhouse kicked it out of your hand. You stepped back on instinct, ducking the following punch, and the rest of his arm to run in the opposite direction.

The first man pointed a large automatic gun straight in your face. You gasped and put your hands up. With a quick glance in either direction, you realized that they’d cornered you.

Your hands were pulled behind your back by someone else. That’s when they started dragging you toward a black SUV parked in the corner.

Except that car was soon destroyed, by an old Honda Civic being shoved into it. The SUV's hood constantined like an accordion.

You looked up with wide eyes, and there stood Ben, at the crossroads of the alley. He was furious.

“Soldier Boy,” greeted the man who once again held the automatic gun poised at you. He pulled down his mask, revealing the tan face of a middle-aged man.

He moved over to you and grabbed your arm from his subordinate. He raised the gun to your back. With one press of his finger, your insides could become Swiss cheese.

Your jaw clenched as you tried to take in even breaths. You focused on Ben. His green eyes met yours, and briefly you caught the worry behind them before his steely gaze moved back to the man who held you.

“Pretty ballsy, Reyes,” Ben said. His voice was a drawl, more controlled than he felt. “You really thought this was gonna go down that easy?”

Reyes scoffed. “You’re the ballsy one. Taking off with all that product you stole.”

“You’ll have to take up with the CIA on that one,” Ben replied. “They confiscated all the smack from my place. Probably reselling it to a few hobos down the street. You’re welcome to check under the bridge over there.”

He gestured in the direction of the Hudson River.  

Reyes shrugged. The sound of a gun’s safety being clipped back resounded through the alley. You felt the vibration of it on your back. Your eyes closed for a moment.

“Bad news for her,” he said.

"Hey," Ben snapped. "There's no fucking need for that."

"I think I'll decide what we need," said Reyes. Your lips pursed as the gun dug into your back. "Maybe it's your bitch's insides at your feet."

Ben slowly raised a placating hand. Though his gait was still relaxed and arrogant, as always, you knew it was a well-crafted act. To hide his anger. His fear. To seem in control of himself, and to reinforce the intimidating presence he still was, even unarmed.

“Listen. If it’s money you want, we can work it out,” Ben replied.

His eyes once again found yours. He could see you were holding your breath. You were good at hiding it, but he knew you were scared. He wanted to tell you that he had this handled. That everything would be all right.

He focused on Reyes again. The other man considered the supe with a tilt of his head. He sucked his teeth and spit on the ground, out of the corner of his mouth. It was mixed with a bit of blood from when you'd punched him in the teeth.

“Okay, my friend,” said Reyes. “Let’s work this out. Pull out your phone.”

Ben made slow movements in grabbing his phone from his pocket. They all stepped further into the alley to avoid prying eyes and discussed the transfer of funds, and how much was fair. Ben claimed he was giving him a deal with his first offer.

Reyes demanded three times that amount. Ben raised his brows...but he complied. The money transferred from his bank account.

“Okay, we’re fucking done,” Ben snarked. He gestured at you with his eyes. “Let her go.”

In his mind, he was already contemplating how thoroughly he'd rip Reyes apart for this. After you were safe. He'd have a first class ticket to Medellin by tonight, ready to Colombian-necktie this cocksucker.

Reyes sighed through his nose. There was still about ten feet between him and Ben. He didn't seem to think it was enough. He took the gun off your back and backed up with you a few steps. Eventually, he released your arm.

“Come ‘ere, sweetheart,” Ben reached a hand out, beckoning for you. You met his gaze once again, and let out a subtle breath.

You took three hesitant steps forward.

And the gunshots echoed horribly through the alley.

As it turned out, Reyes always had an escape plan. You were merely the distraction.

It proved effective, as Ben’s protest rang out as soon as the bullets fired. He raced forward and caught you as you stumbled, but his hands soon became coated in your blood; it fled from your back in thin rivulets.

You gasped and clung to his arms. His ears rang with the sound, along with tires squealing and shouts and police sirens. All he could focus on was the color draining from your face.

Both of your breaths came out ragged as he slid with you down to his knees. He brushed your hair away from your face, even as his blood-covered hand stained your cheek. Your pained eyes drew up to his face. You tried to speak, but you didn't have the strength.

“I hear the sirens. They’re coming for you, take you to the hospital,” he promised. His voice was rough, but his throat was tight. His eyes scanned over you. “All you need is my blood and…Christ. Fuck it all.”

He laid you down on the dirty asphalt and hurriedly yanked up his coat sleeve until it ripped. It exposed his arm. He was about to drag a blunt nail across his own skin to bleed into you.

“Ben.” Your fingers twitched against his knee.

When he looked at your face, there was no longer life in your eyes.

His own were wide, almost uncomprehending. His breathing was harsh as empty hands fell to his thighs. His head felt heavy, though his ears were still ringing.

He drew enough strength in his hand to wipe the blood from your cold cheek…but your face was beginning to blur.

Or not, he realized, as the sting in his eyes took him by surprise.

In a fit of mania, he gathered you back up in his arms and ignored the wetness covering your back. He held you, impossibly tight. Tighter than he’d ever held you, because he was alone in the alley…because he was alone again.

And it was his own fault.

His eyes squeezed shut against the burn, but it was futile. Everything was. His breaths were sharp and stifled as pain tore inside. A pain worse than anything the Russian's could've inflicted on him.

His lips pressed against your forehead, trembling there. The first drops of wetness rolled down his cheek. He couldn't stop it from happening, but then again. He guessed he truly was a failure, after all.

You made the mess…

His first tears had been spent at his mother’s funeral, when he stood alone at her gravestone.

His last ones would fall and die with you.

“Ben,” your voice was soft but insistent.

He finally woke with a start. A sharp inhale through his nose.

He had been sleeping on his side. Before he even truly registered where he was, in the safety of his bedroom, he turned his head toward you.

His eyes found your face in the dark, over his shoulder. Your hair was frizzy from sleep. The strap of your nightgown had fallen off one shoulder. Your face looked bleary and tired, but you frowned in concern.

“You okay, baby?” you asked. Your hand soothed across the dewy skin on his arm.

Ben’s throat constricted. He was starting to remember bits and pieces of the dream…the nightmare. He rubbed at his eyes, then dragged a hand over his mouth.

“Yeah,” he said at last.

“Hmm.” Your gaze narrowed at him. “You sure?”

Ben had only enough energy in him to nod in response. His heart was still racing. Maybe you sensed that, because you leaned onto his arm and dropped a hand down his chest. You kissed his bare shoulder with soft lips, and he couldn’t help himself.

He raised a hand to cup the back of your head. He let out a long, relieved sigh through his nose, closing his eyes. Then he turned onto his back and brought you closer, with an arm slipping around your frame and pulling you against his chest. You made a sound of surprise, but you went willingly.

You brushed the sweaty strands of hair away from his face and pressed a kiss against his neck, to his jaw, his cheek and above his brow. He accepted it all and tried to calm his breathing with the feeling of your touch, and the smell of your flowery soap that lingered on your skin.

With a hand still cupping your head, he guided your lips to his. He claimed you slowly, but with purpose. You answered him by tilting your head, deepening the kiss for a moment.

You parted from him just as slowly. You knew everything wasn’t okay, but you also knew it wasn’t the time to push him for an answer.

Maybe in the morning, you thought. …I’ll make pancakes. Haven't done that in a while. And he’s always happier with something sweet.

You rested contentedly against his warm chest and let his heartbeat, gradually slowing back into a steady rhythm, lull you back to sleep.

Ben tangled his fingers into your hair. He laid one more kiss on the top of your head.

And for damn sure, he was going to cancel that trip into the city tomorrow.

AN: I know, I know. The "it was all a dream" thing is super cheesy, but I couldn't leave it on heartbreak. I just don't have it in me with these two. 🥲❤️‍🩹

Read the Sequel:

A friend of mine requested a sequel to this imagine: "You confront Ben about his fears."

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

BMD Tag List (Part 1):

@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26 @spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort

@xoxovienna @katherineann814 @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28 @nancymcl @ashbatz @secretdreamlandmentality @kristophalis @wonderland2022 @emily-winchester @shelh93 @sl33pylilbunny @spoonmynoodle @chernayawidow

@buckybarnes-1917 @asgardprincess97 @sometimes-i-sing @itsyellow @karnellius @kimberleymjw @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas @se-fucking-hun @lassie-bird @jessjad @yepimthatperson @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2

@spnfamily-j2 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @lacilou @venicesem @mimaria420 @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @tearsfortheyouth @agalliasi @chriszgirl92 @kazsrm67

#ask me stuff #soldier boy #Imagine Ben losing you #angst to the max #hurt/comfort #Soldier Boy imagine #soft!Ben #BMD verse #the boys #soldier boy/ben #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x you #Break Me Down verse #zepskies answers

[maleyanderecafe]

Broken Colors (Visual Novel)

Created by: The ⁍ Ink ⁌ Room

Genre: Horror/Romance

I've been waiting for this one from @inkly-heart for a while and it is very well made for a demo! From the easter eggs to the art style, it really does seem to go above and beyond. This game is an r18 game so while there's nothing of the sort in the demo so far, it is something to keep in mind of with future installments.

The story starts with the MC waking up and going to her job at a convenience store to meet their coworker, Ramus. Ramus is a snarky coworker that seems to dump all his work onto the MC. After meeting and serving some customers, the MC takes a quiz on a magazine as they wait, however are interrupted by Ramus who walks off to a party. From here, the options splinter off.

Daydreaming allows the MC to meet Dameon, a new customer that comes in after being rejected by his crush. Depending on the answer, it can go a couple of ways. Sympathizing with him allows him to develop a crush on the MC, with the MC attempting to make him feel better by complimenting him and reassuring him. After a nice conversation with him, he leaves promising to come back. At this time, he develops an obsession with MC and the item that they've given to Dameon becomes a sign of their love. The MC meanwhile is annoyed that they didn't ask for his name and heads home. After some intrusive thoughts about their family, they go to sleep, At night, Dameon breaks into the MC's place, learning their name and promising that they will meet later on. The MC can also just act normally with them or straight up ignore them, which either leads to a normal conversation or Dameon getting annoyed, and leads to being chased by DG in the alleyway.

Picking up a call with lead to Ramus telling the MC to deal with a delivery man that's coming over. Someone does come over to presumably rob the MC, but we find out that it's a prank from the delivery man named... Delivery Guy (or DG). After some small talk, Dameon comes in and greets both the MC and DG, telling DG that the person they confessed to rejected him in a rude manner. DG seems annoyed by the fact they treated his friend so rudely and goes to take care of the delivery. Dameon and the MC have a nice chat with Dameon falling for the MC. Afterwards, the MC goes to check on DG who scares them and finishes the delivery. The ending is the same as before where Dameon comes to stalk the MC in their house.

If the MC reads the newspaper, they will get a call from Ramus and then go home after, only to be chased by DG and pinned down. There are a couple of endings that follow this ending depending on choice.

Starting out, the game is extremely well made for a demo. This could just be because I'm biased towards the art style, but even so, the amount of details including how nice the backgrounds look, to the various cameos of other ocs they have, such as Angel on the magazine. I also like the little touches on the sprites when they emote, such as when they're angry there's a vein emote, which gives more personality. I also like the little changes to the nametags when each character talks.

The main yandere in this one is Dameon, or Stalker. The general idea with Stalker is presented in the story, where they generally jump from love to love, though in this game, they are specifically infatuated with the MC and seemingly refuses to let go. Dameon and DG have a sort of friend relationship, with DG "taking care" of those that disrespect Dameon and just generally being a serial killer. From what I remember, this might lead to a poly ending with the two in the future just based on how close they are, which is always interesting. Dameon is pretty much written to be a yandere, with his stalking tendencies, killings, though what is interesting is that he seemingly again jumped from person to person, but likely will stay with the MC based on the what's going on in the game. I am curious what happens if the MC doesn't gain Dameon's attention, since it will likely move towards DG's route of being more of a murder sim rather than specifically a yandere route. I'm also curious if Ramus will have a route as well or even get killed in the story.

That being said, I'm sure there will be much more characters that the MC will be able to interact with in the future considering the sheer amount of OCS that inkly has, as well as the various cameos that appear in the demo. I am curious how the interactions will play out and what the MC's relationship will be with them.

That being said, it's a very well made demo and I hope to see more promising updates in the future!

#Broken Colors #male yandere #yandere boy #yandere #recommendations #visual novel

[wannaeatramyeon]

Hi~ can I request "she fell first, but he fell harder" with Vin Jin? And please include the confession time too! Thank you in advance 💙

Fuck yeah, Vin Jin hours! Was feeling like I haven't written about this douchebag [affectionately] in a hot second.

Vin Jin x Reader: You're his type

Another Vin Jin confession fic. Feat a lil bit of the Queen, Mary Kim.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Fuck off," Vin mutters, his heart isn't in it as he stares out the window.

Regardless, that earns him a harsh ear pull from Mary for his shitty reply, yanking him out of his daydream and back to reality.

What's wrong with him? Where to start.

.

.

Vin is hot, that is an objective fact. According to him anyway.

Girls and boys alike throwing themselves at his feet is not new, barely warrants batting an eyelid.

You though? One of his inner circle? When you started to blush around him, stammering your words, avoiding eye contact, just generally being awkward as hell; he decided to ignore it. He's seen this a million times before.

Why ruin a good thing, right? Especially if he didnt return your feelings.

But since you started to see Vin in a new light, and who the hell knows why after already knowing him for so many years, well.

His subconscious got curious too.

.

.

Annoying as fuck, bratty. That's how he would describe you.

For some reason, you would always get your way with him, and that used to irritate him no bounds. Your special way of knowing exactly which buttons to push that even Mary is impressed with.

Over the last couple months, this trait has somehow become endearing. That you know him better than he knows himself.

And you're clingy too. Always have been.

Yet your budding crush on Vin has made you pull back. Spending fewer hours together, retracting your casual touches. He never thought he could possibly miss you, but even when you're standing right in front of him, hand just casually hanging there like a normal person, he wants to reach out and grab it.

And if someone asks if you are attractive? Yeah, sure, you're definitely hot.

A man can have eyes, can't he? Even behind his shades, even with three pupils. He can see that and he can see your line of admirers though you've never really been Vin's type.

He can hear Mary's voice if he told her that, her scoffing and asking "what even is your type, you're single as fuck." Vin doesn't know, ok? It's just never been you.

And now all of a sudden, it's you. Completely, one hundred percent, you.

It's you so much that anytime another guy even glances in your direction he needs to hold back from uppercutting them in the jaw.

Maybe most importantly. You're ride-or-die.

If push came to shove, and someone held a knife against his throat, he would admit it.

Him, Mary, and You. The best export from Cheonliang. Friendship built on unrockable foundations. You both worming your way into his stupid, silly heart but in very different ways.

Really, damn you for presenting this dilemma. Why did you have to fall for him because now he has no doubt fallen harder.

Worst of all though? For you, Vin realises he is a romantic, and he is undeniably cringe.

Street cred will be ruined for sure.

.

.

That brings him to the present.

With Vin thoroughly distracted, every waking moment consumed with thoughts of you.

With him catching feelings, mind and heart betraying him alike.

With him having to hold back around you when the confession almost slips out, bolting out the gate until it's almost too late.

Vin is absolutely not a coward. He will tell you, he just needs to pick his moment.

Sitting in the empty classroom, he was busy contemplating the next move until he is rudely interrupted by Mary. Now, he still doesn't have a plan but has gained an aching, throbbing ear for his troubles.

"ACK!"

At his yelp, Mary releases him. Hand on hips, tapping her foot impatiently, she glares down at him as he rubs his ear. "What is wrong with you these days?"

"Nothi-"

"Say nothing and I'll kick your ass."

"I'm fine."

"You've never been fine, asshole."

"..."

Vin resumes staring out the window, hoping if he ignores her long enough she would piss off.

Mary gives a long suffering sigh. It really is long, and really is suffering. After so many years, he still hasn't learnt.

"HUP!" Mary bounces over to him, quick as a whip, and puts him in a headlock.

"WHAT THE FUCK-"

Vin flails around, trying desperately to wiggle himself free but Mary has the upperhand. Using the proximity to her advantage, she leans in close.

Quietly, "Is this about Y/N?"

With his restricted movements, VIn still full body recoils as if he's been hit.

"NO!" And he can hear himself. Too defensive, unbelievable to even his own ears.

Mary looks at him with eyes full of pity. What a stupid bastard.

"You need to tell her."

"W-what? I have nothing to say!" Again. Completely unbelievable.

With another sigh, Mary releases him - moving just out of reach to avoid his retaliating strike.

"Why are you both like this."

"Like what?"

"Listen." She slams both hands down on his desk and Vin jumps, "If you keep making googly eyes and pining for each other in front of me, I will skin you both alive."

"..."

"Sort. This. Out." Mary flicks him aggressively on the forehead, smirking when she realises it will leave a mark. "Got it?"

"Got it, got it..." Vin mutters, refusing eye contact and fiddling with his sunglasses as Mary leaves in a whirlwind of blonde hair and chaos.

Honestly. Vin trying to pull wool over Mary's eyes over his crush is like you trying to pull wool over Vin's. Unconvincing at best, completely laughable at worst. You all know each other too well to get away with this sort of shit.

Ok. Fine, fine. Today is as good as any other day.

Vin makes up his mind and seeks you out.

...Today is not as good as any other day.

Blood rushing to his cheeks when he sees you, Vin chickens out.

.

.

His thumb hovers over the text. Just something simple and straight to the point asking you on a date.

He hesitates.

He tries again a few days later, sitting in the school canteen together when a rowdy first year bumps into you, causing you to spill your drink all over yourself. When your fist meets his nose, Vin watches on in awe, realising he's in love with you.

Still, the moment didn't feel right.

He prepares some lyrics, working on them through the night. Until the next day, sleep-deprived and bags under his eyes, Mary takes one look at them and smacks him over the head.

"No! You cannot start this rapping about Y/N's tits!"

.

.

The confession spills out in a quiet moment together. Catching him as offguard as his feelings did.

You sit next to him, bodies pressed close together, eyes watching the action unfold on the laptop screen.

Another movie night, usually accompanied with Mary. This time, when you invited her over in the group chat, Mary declined and in a separate message, threatened Vin with death if he didn't make 'you and him happen'.

He supposes that that's fair.

As he sits and watches you rather than the film, his face naked and bare, he wonders what more is there than this quiet bliss.

The peace of two people completely comfortable with each other, of two well matched souls; you having seen him countless times at his worst and him with you.

That you know all his secrets and his past and yet you're still here. Next to him.

"Are you even watching this?" You ask, turning towards him. Guess he was too obvious with his staring.

Vin's usual bluster and cocky retort is nowhere to be found.

He opens his mouth, words so close to spilling, tongue nervously darting out across his lower lip-

And he notices your eyes drop to follow it, hears your breath hitching.

The words don't come.

Instead, he leans in close. Moving slowly and carefully to give you an easy out, to give himself an easy out to ease the sting of rejection.

To play it off as a joke, though he doubts if he or his ego would ever recover from this.

When you don't move, eyes searching his, looking him fully in the eyes and not flinching, never flinching, he brings his hand up to gently cup your face.

A move that he has cringed at countless times with romance scenes, but now he gets how right it is in the moment.

Vin feels your soft smile against his palm, you leaning hesitantly into it, and it gives him the final push he needs-

You beat him to the punch.

"I... really like you," you say, lips almost touching his, the heat of your breath leaving his skin tingling.

A smirk that is so him settles on his face. In hindsight, why was he ever nervous. Why did he ever think you weren't his type.

"I know."

Vin presses his lips to yours and finally calls you his.

#lookism #lookism webtoon #lookism manhwa #lookism x reader #lookism fic #vin jin x reader #vin jin #mary kim #kim miru #jin hobin x reader #jin hobin #wannaeatramyeon

[royal-bubble-tea]

Heyo!!! I was wondering if you could write a FtM reader with a poly relationship with Hongjoong and Seonghwa, first its just general fluff that could lead up to smut. Do tyt with this!

Yes, of course. I loooove Matz 🤭

Ateez - poly Hoongjoong x Seonghwa (smut)

Hongjoong x Seonghwa x ftm! Reader

First of all Hoongjoong and Seonghwa absolutely adore you. When you came out to them, explaining how you felt Seonghwa had a hard time wrapping his head around the concept and the new changes your realisation and feelings brought. Back then you feared you might lose him after coming out and saying that you felt more like you are one of them. Hoongjoong on the other hand was super supportive. He immediatly asked you after your pronouns, how you want to be adressed in general, making your heart flutter at this display of love, affection and acceptance towards you. Hoongjoong also went on a shopping spree with you, deciding that you were in need of a new wardrobe to celebrate your new self. It was around that time that Seonghwa, tagging along and giving his creative input on certain outfits, realised that nothing major would change. He was still very much in love with you and Hoongjoong. You were the same person, same likes, dislikes, hobbies and interests that he adored. He told you as much after one of your little shopping trips. To say that all three of you started crying, overrun with emotions was an understatement. It was Yunho who later on found all three of you on the couch in the dorm huddled underneath one gaint blanket each with their own tub of ice cream watching a romcom. He just smiled at you giving a thumbs up happy with the overall situation.

You were rudely interrupted by your daydreaming by Seonghwa waving a hand in front of your face. "Are you even listening to me?", he asked with a pout on his face. You looked up to him with a smile. "I was listening to you ... for the most part.", you answered. His eyes became slits and you knew that you had to do something to safe the day, quick. "But how can I listen to you when you are standing right on front of me wearing outifts in which you look so god damn good." He rolled his eyes but you did not miss the colour painting his cheeks as he turned around to present another one to you. "Nice safe.", he eventually said. "I know. I'm kinda proud of myself for that one. But you really do look stunning.", you replied. He turned around again showing of his almost sheer black top. You grinned at him like a man possessed. "This looks really nice on you Hwa." You could tell by the way he moved and posed slightly that he was also very much in love with this top. "You know what would look even nicer?", he looks up at you with a questioning look, raising one eyebrow, "You in this shirt in my lap while I'm kissing you stupid", you slowly rise from your sitting position making your way over to him, "My hands underneath this flimsy top, teasing you for looking so delicious", your fingers play with the hem of the top before your hands find their way underneath resting on his well definded stomach. You lean in closer, nosing against his collarbone, the ghost of a kiss against his neck. You can hear and feel his shaky in- and exhale. His hands had made their way to your waist, resting there, anticipating your next move. "Can you imagine it. Maybe we can get Hoongjoong, get him to watch but not allowed to touch. You know how he gets when he does not get what he truly desires. How possessive he is." It is at this that Hwa looks at you confused and after a moment you catch up with his train of thought. "Where is Hoonjoong by the way?", you ask him. He looks at you with pretty much the same facial expression you are wearing right this moment. "I am not so sure. If he would be in the dorms, I am sure he would be here with us right now so that leaves only one other option." You both look at each other before sighning in defeat and saying in unision "The studio", with a look of resignation Seonghwa pulls away from you but before you two are completely separated he plants a kiss on your mouth making you grin like the idiot in love you truly are. He puts on more discrete clothes, grabs your hand and you both march out the door to KQ studio to get your adorable Minion home.

At the studio you knock carefully at the dorr, waiting for Hoongjoong to react and open the door. But after waiting a couple of minutes with nothing happening Seonghwa pulls out his phone and gives him a call. You could hear Hoongjoongs whiny voice at the other end asking what you want. "We are standing right in front of your door so you better open up.", says Seonghwa. And you could already hear noises coming from the other side of the door. It sounded like Hoongjoong was franticly trying to reach the door. Which opened seconds later granting you the view of a rather wild looking Hoongjoong. His hair was a birds nest and his clothes looked like he had been sleeping in them for longer than comfortable. However you could also see the love in his eyes while he looked at you and Seonghwa. You take a step forward, circle your arms around his neck and give him a peck on his lips. "Took you long enough", you whispered. You can feel Seonghwa's warm body behind you as he put his arms around Hoongjoongs waist and pulled the two of you into a group hug. He leanes over your shoulder and kisses Hoongjoong as well. The capatains face turns a bright red and he ushers everyone inside his studio. You immideatly go to the couch in the corner and take a seat, patting the cushion next to you to signla the others to join you. Seogwha makes his way over pulling Hoongjoong with him. But before the tiny man can take a seat next to you he is being pulled in by Hwa and placed in his lap. His face turns red a gain and he hides his face in the crook of Seonghwa's neck. You coo at the adorable display and lean in to pepper kisses on every surface of his face that you can reach. Beside you Seonghwa is laughing at your antics. He places an arm around you and pulls you towards his chest, so that you and Hoongjoong a both comfortable and leans back. His hand glides up and down you side doing the same to Hoongjoong. He let's out a breath before adressing the smaller male. "We wanted to pick you so that we can all go home together. And please just come with us. No arguing for ten more minutes, okay? You have been in here for way to long. You need a break and the two of us miss you so much." Hoongjoong looks up at you and you look back with pleading eyes, Seonghwa mirrowing your expression. "Fine. Let me grab my things and let's head home.", he reluctantly agrees. You cheer in celebration and Seonghwa plants another long kiss on Hoongjoongs lips. The smaller not wanting to seperate that fast chases his lips. You watch them trade kisses, waiting for an opening which comes the moment Hoongjoong leans back on Seonghwa's lap to take a deep breath. You use this moment to gently grab his face and kiss him as well. His lips are slightly chapped as they move against yours. This does not stop you from continuing to kiss him. You move your lips against his, biting his bottom lip and feeling heat flutter in your stomach when you hear him moan at the action. You trace you tongue over the part of his lip that you have just bitten to sooth the bite. However, Seonghwa interrupts you before things can escalate. "You know the faster we get going, the faster we are home and can continue that in our much more comfortable bed." You both nod at him and begin moving at lightning speed to pack everything up. And next things you know you are already sitting in the car, virbrating out of your skin with exitement about what's to come.

The three of you make it to the front door with Seongwha barely being able to open the door, before Hoongjoong pushes inside, your hand in his and he pulls you along inside the dorm towards the bedroom. Finally inside, he pushes you on the bed. The two of you grinning at each other and giggling like sixth graders. Hoongjoong pushes himself up and situates himself between your spread legs. He gives you another peck on the lips before you throw your arms around his neck and pull him in to deepen the kiss. You both try dominate the kiss but Hoongjoong loses as soon as you bite his lip again. This time when you soothe your tongue over the bite you can feel his tongue pocking against yours. You can feel and hear him exhale before pushing your tongue into his mouth. Trying to map and remember every part there is. Hoongjoong now plaintly laying on top of you cradles your head in his hands. All of a sudden he takes a deep breath, you open one eye and see Seonghwa towering over the two of you. His face is flushed and you notice a prominent buldge in his pants. He has started to take Hoongjoong clothes of. He looks you in the eyes as if asking the silent question if this is alright with you and if you are comfortable to continue. You nod at him and start to underess Hoongjoong as well. The tiny Captain is laying between you trading kisses and losing his clothers faster than he notices. Soon he is naked on the bed in all of his glory. You let your hungry gaze follow his face, down his chest and delicious pecks to his plush thighs and hard cock. He pulls you into another deep kiss and you try to get a grip and locate Seonghwa to find out what he is doing not wanting him to feel left out. Soon you find out what he is doing as Hoongjoong first whines and then downright moans right into your mouth. His eyes rolling slighty back and he is trying to stable his breathing. You look over his shoulder at Seonghwa who winks at you. You follow the movement of his arm and realise that he started to stretch Hoongjoong. You turn your attention back to Hoongjoong. You try to kiss him in between deep breaths and one of your hands makes their way down his front to his flushed and hard cock. You begin to stroke him and his moans turn up significantly in volume. Seonghwa's arm is moving at an increased speed and you try to match his with the the movement of your hand. Hoongjoong starts to leak even more pre come and you lightly squeeze the head of his cock on every up stroke while also shoving you tongue into his mouth. Seonghwa is looking down at you two and is being mesmerized by the picture the two of you paint right in front of him. He leans down to bite and lick at Hoongjoong's neck while stroking his fingers over said mans prostate. Hoongjoong is no longer able to form any coherent thought, he is trashing between you two and with one final sharp inhale he comes with a cry. His body snaps like a bow string and he releases all over your hand.

Both you and Seonghwa pepper is face with kisses, praising him for doing so well while letting him catch his breath. Once his eyes are no longer glazed over he begs for you and Seonghwa to take of your clothes as well. Not having to be asked twice you shed your clothes and Seonghwa turns Hoongjoong around so that he is laying on his belly. "Come on Joongi hands and knees." he says after slapping Hoongjoong on the ass. A handprint starts blossoming on the pale checks. You are so entranced by the view that you lean over and bite Hoongjoong in his plump buttcheeck. The latter mewls at you action but you soothe him with a hand and kisses all over his round bubble but and lower back. You lean back but before you can make your way to the head of the bed, Seonghwa grabs you by the jaw and pulls you in for a hungry kiss. His tongue tracing your lips, asking for entrance which you allow for a breath moment before pulling away. You kiss him one final time whispering "Make him feel so good, he never wants to leave this bed again.", against his lips. A fire is lit in Seongwha, he grabs Hoongjoongs hips and starts to push in. This is why you wanted to be at the head of the bed. To watch Hoongjoong's facial expression morph into absolut bliss. You can see him biting his lip in concentration, before his mouth falls open and heavy breaths leave him. The way his eyes roll back at a particular deep thrust from Seonghwa and how his fingers grip the sheets impossible tight. It is a sight how HJ turns from being in control and teasing Hwa into a subby mess, being overstimulated from having just come. But enjoying every second of it. He looks up at you and starts pawing at you hips. You raise an eyebrow in question. "Want to make you feel good as well.", comes the answer inbetween moans and shaky breaths. Above him Seonghwa coos at the two of you. His hair is plastered against his forhead. You can see drops of sweat descending down his neck. His chest is flushed from the action and his breathing hís heavy. But his eyes are so hungry as he locks eyes with you. "Want to make our angel feel good, Hoongjoong? Want to be a good little captain for us and make both of us feel good?", he teases Hoongjoong who nods frantically. You slide closer to Hoongjoong who tightly grabs your hips and puts his move over your heat. The feeling of his cute pink tongue and his heavy breaths against you skin cause you to throw your head back in pleasure. Hoongjoong encouraged by you actions redoubles his effort in pleasing you. All while Seonghwa is thrusting deep into him. His eyes are glazed over and the only thought in his mind is to be good for his two lovers. You weave your hands trough his hair and at one particular pleasurable movement from his tongue you grip his hair and pull on it. That was all Hoongjoong needed to reach his climax. He moans out loud, his eyes roll into the back of his head and you watch him as his whole body shakes. Seonghwa behind him not being any better, as he reached his orgasm as well because of Hoongjoong clenching around his dick like a vice and milking him of everything he was worth.

Hoongjoong flops back down onto the bed trying to regain a clear mind as you play with his hair and tell him what a good boy his is. From the corner of your eye you can see Seonghwa making his way over to you, tapping your hip and making you lay down flat next to Hoongjoong. You look up at him as he makes is way down your body until he reaches your core and starts blowing and licking you. You again throw you head back, grabbing for Hoongjoong's hand which he pulls close to his chest and starts peppering with kisses. Still having the mental image of Seonghwa and Hoongjoong orgasming just moments prior playing in you head is what tips you over as well. You moan both their names and snuggle close to Hoongjoong. Seonghwa gets up and leaves and shortly coming back with a wet rag to clean the two of you. He lays a blanket over you and cuddles up on your other side. Hoongjoongs eyes are already closed but he whispers a quiet "I love you both so much." To which you and Seonghwa reply with "I love you too." You take their hands and try to cuddle as close to them as you can. Hearing Seonghwas steady breaths and Hoongjoongs light snoring lulls you into sleep as well.

Well, that escalated quickly. First I wanted to write something short and sweet but I just ran with it while writing.

I hope you enjoy this story. Have a nice weekend.

And watch and support Ateez performing at Coachella this weekend. I am going to watch the Live Stream on Youtube and I am sooo excited!!!!!!

#ateez #ateez smut #hoongjoong smut #seonghwa smut #ateez headcanons #seongjoong #seongjoong smut #ateez imagines

[serene-sun]

𝕴𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖌𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖊𝖓𝖘

Chapter three of my new series 𝕽𝖔𝖘𝖊 𝕲𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖊𝖓 𝕱𝖚𝖓𝖊𝖗𝖆𝖑 𝕺𝖋 𝕾𝖔𝖗𝖊𝖘

Summary: After a multitude of wrong doings at your catholic church, you and four other nuns are sent on a mysterious transfer to a ministry nobody dares speak of. On behalf of the Count Copia, you are welcomed after a suspenseful journey.

Chapter summary: when you’re assigned to work in the green house, you decide to meet some new ghouls while delivering items with ivy. You learn of how you take vows….and a suggestion is made

warnings: sex talk at the end

a/n: shorter chapter, next chapter will be smut, chapter after that will circle back to chapter two.

It had been five weeks since the arrival of the new sisters of sin. They all had been used to the new life style and the new sceduale.

They would wake up at sunrise to eat breakfast, then pick up any mail from the main office or find out what they would do that day, work or have free time until lunch and have the rest of the day to themeselves. Everything was open all day, and you were welcomed to do chores another time in the day but the morning is preferred. Rituals would be held at sundown, mass was at noon and midnight. On Monday and Fridays they would have mass in the morning too. Midnight mass is required every night for every sibling, ghoul, father and such. Chores would only be on Tuesdays and Thursdays since they have shift changes unless you chose to clock in. The papal offices were always open to everyone, and confessions were from 6am to 7am, 9pm to 10pm.

Newer siblings of sins were started on easier chores until they would be “promoted” to a higher level.

You had been tasked with helping in the greenhouse, the count had suggested it after the report of your…spook…in the hallway. He figured a change of scenery would be best.

All of the ghouls had jobs too, and you found the earth ghouls to simply be more approachable.

It was still very difficult to tell them apart, but their different uniforms helped. Some had full black cloaks, some gargoyle masks, and the recent generation Devil masks with black suits.

The gardens and greenhouses of the ministry were lushly green and most definitely swept away the accusations of the ministry being dark and scary. It still was at times but during the sunny day where the trees created chilled shadows across the tall bushes and floral plants was serene.

This was your second week working in the greenhouse, the head of the gardens being papa emeritus the first. All of the earth ghouls were stationed there too, they were all calm and not bouncing around like some of the other elements.

You hadn’t talked to anyone yet, too scared to say anything. You feared you would mess up and be seen as rude to the papa. Even tho his kindness shined to the other siblings working.

You desperately wanted to be excepted, so you worked on your off days.

“Sorella…can you please harvest some of the Queen Ann?” The first born papa had asked, taking his cane and pushing a little sprouted weed out of the crevice of the humid room.

“Yes, of course your eminence.” You say, bowing in respect despite him telling you there was no need.

You quickly found the plant and noticed it was one of the poisonous ones. You weren’t sure what they needed poison for, but it was none of your business.

You took hold of the stem, grabbing the garden scissors and snipping the plant midway up the stem.

A hand tapped your shoulder and you looked behind, greeted by one of the newer earth ghouls.

“Pardon, I don’t mean to interrupt but I think you need help picking that.” He says, motioning to put the scissors down.

This was one of the very quiet earth ghouls, and his voice was deep and lush just like the grass on a hill. He smelled like lavender and chamomile, you found it relaxing to work beside him.

You nod, “oh…uh…yes…I’ve never harvested this one before.”

“That’s alright, first time for everything right?” He chuckled softly as he steps beside you. “Firstly I don’t think he meant to assign you here, you’ll have to excuse primo, he is elderly and forgets sometimes.” He says as the very tall ghoul grabs the part of the stem that meets with the flowers, he twists it off and placed it into a bowl, “only ghouls work with poisons plants, they can’t make us sick.” He speaks softly

You make a little “oh” sound as you watch, mesmerized by the way he gently does it to each budding. You forget that the ghouls are big bad and scary from this one’s softness.

“Would you like me to clean your shoes.” You panic as memories from that hallway moment flood your mind as you study his horns and nails. You speak wobbly, maybe a fear of ghouls was growing inside.

“Hm? My shoes? They are a bit muddy…but you don’t have to-“ he says before looking at you, he senses the fear, “what’s wrong? Is everything alright?”

“Uh…yes I just…uhm…I’m ok..” you say nervously as you continue looking at his muddy shoes.

The earth ghoul looks at you confused, but the door is swiftly opened up by a water ghoul, “mountain! I need your help, there’s a bird stuck in the bird bath.” They say urgently and out of breath.

The ghouls demeanor is quickly changed to panic as he runs out the doors like someone had died.

You stand there a little frozen as you take a deep breath, it was honestly silly to be scared of such a gentle giant. Perhaps you could tell yourself it’s the height difference.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to ghouls being everywhere.” Another voice says from across the room. You never even noticed them as they stood still, wrapping a chicken wire around a tomato plant that had to drum sticks stuck in the pot keeping it up and sturdy.

“Oh…uhm…I’m sorry..” you say guilt filled as you play with your hands.

This new earth ghoul had black hair and a black tail. “You’re completely ok! I totally get it….when I was first summoned I think I peed myself when I saw the first fire ghoul.” He says with a bashful smile.

You feel a little better now that a joke was made, “yes I…have seen how it can be.”

“The newcomers always fear us at first, but after you get all of the gossip and rumors about us you won’t be scared.” He says as he sets down the pot to the floor.

“Well…perhaps that can be soon…” you softly smile.

“Usually after you make your vows, you can really start to know us, as you start to work closer.” They say, wiping smudged dirt off their mask.

“Yeah…I mean it’s already a little difficult because your all named the same…but it sounds like you all have little names for each other.” You say

“Oh yes! How rude, I didn’t introduce myself.” The earth ghoul said, “we all give each other names, I’m Ivy, that was mountain and that water ghoul was rain. It’s just that imperator that makes you call us nameless ghouls, if you’re out of her sight then you can call us anything.” He says, looking out the window at the water and earth ghoul helping the little bird in the water.

“That actually makes allot of sense, perhaps I’ll have to ask others their names, though I’m a bit scared to approach any other ghouls. You seem to be the calmest of the bunch.”

“I can introduce you, I need to catch up on deliveries since we’re behind. They just summoned a new multi ghoulette for the next era, so everyone’s been a little absent.” He smiles as he starts filling a rolling cart with baskets of fruits and herbs and little notes.

You smile and nod, earth ghouls were just so easy to talk too, “I’d really love that.” You say as you help pack up the large cart.

Ivy strolled along the cart out of the gardens and into the ministry, the first stop was the kitchens.

“Hey fellas! I have your delivery for this week,” he says, greeting the siblings of sin in there who immediately brightened up at his appearance. “Oh Ivy! You’re looking just too dashing today.” One says, clasping her hands as she kisses his cheek. The earth ghoul awkwardly smiles, “well uh same for you Ms.”

Next was the infirmary, a few people were in there having lunch, one or two were sitting on a bed getting a bandage changed. They gave the workers their herbs and plant medicine.

They moved on to the ghoul wing and you started getting fidgety and nervous, but the sun beaming through the big windows made it far far less terrifying than at night.

Ivy opened the door to the ghoul den,this was your first time being in here. It was a very large room with plenty of couches and seating, a dinning table and kitchen as well as a library and some other things.

Ivy started putting away some of the groceries as you stood awkwardly against a counter. There were a few ghouls in the lounge area and you were curious to look as they were maskless.

Ivy looked to you, and noted your curiosity, “that one sleeping with the black swishy hair is iffirt, goldy locks over there is sodo, and the one on the arm chair is aether.” He pointed out the ghouls quietly.

He put a hand on your back and ushered you over with him, “hey guys, this is my new friend, they’ve been working overtime since y’all are lacking.” He joked softly.

You froze, being the center of attention.

Sodo closed his book, “your friends with a virgin?” He asks genuinely as he sniffs the air, pointy ears twitching.

Sodo had long golden hair and redish grey skin. His horns were long and twisty, made of red jasper and his mustache wiggled with his lips as he spoke with an accent, “what’s your sin?”

You don’t exactly know what he means until Ivy says, “they haven’t gotten to the ceremony yet.”

“Ceremony?” You ask Ivy, “yeah….they haven’t told you? When you take your vows you choose a sin to live by. Like lust, envy or wrath.”

“Oh…” you say, “I didn’t know.”

Ifrit rubbed his eye as he woke up, “I’m surprised your still pure, your other little friends you came with lost it already.”

Aether smiled as he saw you, “don’t get cocky just because they were more sinful.” He laughed, “her time is soon either way,”

“What…does that mean??” You ask with a shy swallow.

“Hmm? Well the main part of making your vows is loosing your virginity, you can’t make them if your a virgin, did they not tell you that either?” He says surprised you hadn’t known.

“No.” You answer, “I did not…know.”

“Yeah if you don’t loose it before the vows you usually get to choose someone to take it and if you can’t than the count will take care of it himself and show you a good time back in his chambers.” Sodo said, deviously detailing it to push your buttons, “or…you can go to him and secretly do it…and nobody will ever know..” he smirks, this was a classic ghoulish trick.

It was common sense to most of everyone, except new people, that all rites and rituals are proof watched to be sure it actually happened. Even the most private of affairs of virginity loss in bedrooms must have a whole party witness…

Ifrit covered a smile with his arm, even Aether smirked a little, “yeah…if you don’t want the entire ministry knowing what your pussy tastes like then I recommend holding a private ritual with the count before vows….just to be sure your comfortable.” Ifrit says, voice muffled under his skin.

Aether sighs, “I’m going to check in on something.” He makes an excuse to leave the room.

As he walks out the door you look into the ground as you realize that I would infact be best to hold this private event away from public eyes.

They wouldn’t invite that shadow ghoul to bare witness…right?

#serene sun nocontext #the band ghost #serene sun spice time #ghost band #the band ghost x reader #nameless ghouls x reader #nameless ghouls #serene sun writes #ghost band fic #ifrit ghoul x reader #aether x reader #Ivy ghoul #mountain x reader #mountain ghoul fluff

[the-air-nomad]

Fire lily

           You were the daughter of one of the world's most ruthless pirates. In his youth, your father had been Fire Lord Azulon's right-hand man and had led the fire nation's navy to victory. He had conquered the most important port cities of the Earth Kingdom. Following a political dispute and an Agni Kai that your father won with great difficulty, he chose to betray the Fire Nation. Many powerful men of the navy joined him and formed the Ruby Claw, a ruthless and greedy crew that generally preyed on fire navy ships and sometimes Earth Kingdom ships. 

          You inherited cunning, intelligence and hatred for the Fire Nation. This very hatred made you start a suicidal fight with more than 50 enemy ships. You led your men to victory but you were seriously wounded and taken prisoner. The 3 remaining ships immediately set off for the Capital to surrender you to the Fire Lord. On the way you lost consciousness due to blood loss. You woke up with a bad headache. You got up from the bed you were sitting on and laughed at the stupidity of those who captured you, what idiots! They didn't even tie your hands! Then you looked at the room you were in and froze. Furs and wood, blue and brown everywhere, those idiots lost you to a crew of water tribes! Now you understood why your father said that without his iron hand the fire nation's navy would not have been able to withstand even some wooden ships.You got out as easily as you could on the deck trying to beat the dizziness and the headache. You didn't get to analyze the ship and the crew very well because the captain appeared in front of you instantly. You got scared and almost hit him in the face but you calmed down quickly. The man was not much taller than you and he looked extremely worried. 

Hakoda: are you ok miss? You were unconscious for 2 days. You were captured by the Fire Nation, do you remember how or why? 

Y/N: 2 days? I feel like I haven't drunk anything in ages! I don't remember for sure how, I think an idiot managed to hit my head on the deck. They probably wanted to organize a beautiful public execution for me. You know, the presence of the Fire Lord, the sages and all that. It would have been a real honor to know that I will be executed by a coward who hides behind his 14-year-old daughter.

 Now both the captain and the crew members who heard your little speech looked at you terrified. You chuckled and grabbed the first bottle of alcohol you could find then drank it all in one gulp. 

Y/n: Oh! where are my manners, if it can be said that I ever had any. I'm Y/N, Y/F/N's daughter. Thank you for saving me from those coal heads. 

Hakoda: I am Hakoda, Chief of the Southern Water Tribe. There is no need to thank us, the enemies of our enemies are our friends. Also, I couldn't have sat and watched you die at the hands of those monsters.

 Y/N: how sweet of you.

 You notice another water tribe ship approaching you. A tall man steps down from the side of the ship and hugs Hakoda. You looked at his arm covered with burns, sighing. You hated the Fire Nation more every day, those bastards deserved every robbery and attack you led against them. Someone had to give them a taste of their own medicine. Your train of thought was interrupted by your new savior who introduced the man as Bato, his best friend. You were invited to dine with them and listen to Bato's stories. It seems that Hakoda had children and that they were traveling with the avatar. So goodbye chances to have a good time with the handsome man next to you. Why are all handsome men taken and you only attract idiots like Zhao?! If that tin head tries to offer you the honor of marrying him one more time, I swear that one of you will die in agony, and it won't be you.

Bato: I don't mean to be rude but are you a firebender? only that the style in which you tie your hair, your name and your clothes are common in the Fire Nation.

 Y/N: good observation, yes I am a firebender. I belong to a noble family but my father betrayed the Fire Nation before I was born. Now I fight the Fire Nation in a less traditional way.

 Bato: how do you mean less traditional? 

Y/N: I'm the captain of the Rubin Claw.

 The two men laughed heartily for a few moments then realized that you were as serious as possible. Hakoda looks at you in absolute terror.

 Hakoda: Don't you think it's a bit dangerous? You could die for La's name! The Fire Nation is ruthless! 

Y/N: oh! Seriously? I didn't know that at all! 

 You point at Bato's arm unimpressed. Hakoda sighs deeply and goes to his mattress to sleep. 

Y/N: not that I don't think he's cute, but what's the deal with him? Does he have a savior complex or am I too irresistible? 

Bato looks at his friend knowingly.You notice that the taller man is lost in his thoughts. You look at him with a raised eyebrow.

 Y/N: Listen Bato, I know I may seem rude and uncaring but I really like your friend. He is different from all the men I have known.

 Bato: why do I have the impression that you only knew pirates and captains of the Fire Nation Navy? 

Y/N: ok ok. You got me. But I was serious when I said that I like him. I want you to be honest, do you think I have a chance with him? I know he has children but you haven't mentioned anything about a wife or girlfriend. 

Bato: His wife died a few years ago in a raid, we don't like to talk about her because her death is still an open wound. 

Y/N: I'm really sorry, good people don't deserve to die or lose their loved ones like this. Please send your condolences to the children, I know what it's like to lose your mother at a young age.

 Bato: I will Y/N, I will. 

You went back to the cabin where you woke up and quickly fell asleep. You were woken shortly after sunrise by some urgent knocks on the door. You opened the door only to see Bato looking panicked. You went out on deck and noticed that the water tribe ships were surrounded by your own ships. You grinned dangerously when you saw Akain, your right hand and also your half brother, coming towards you. 

Y/N: what took you so long to find me son of a rattlesnake?

 Akain: I would have found you sooner if you had stayed on the fire nation ship and we have the same father little viper. 

Akain playfully hits you on the head and Hakoda immediately comes towards you. Your brother looks at the water tribe man amused. You roll your eyes and put the firebender back on his ship telling him to wait for you. You return to the watertribe ship and hug Bato. You notice that Hakoda is trying to convince you to give up being a pirate and you laugh briefly. You pull the captain into a passionate kiss. He is frozen for a few seconds and then he responds to your kiss. 

Akain: so when you told me that you befriended the watertribe captain, did you mean friendship with benefits? 

You break the kiss and pull away from Hakoda blushing furiously. 

Y/N: I'm ashamed that we have the same blood, you mentally retarded idiot! 

You return to your ship and kick your brother because he collapsed from laughing so much. While your ships are moving away you look at Hakoda who seemed to want to swim to you. 

Hakoda: You can't kiss me and walk away like that! 

Y/N: Then come and get me my love! 

You giggle at his disappointed look and at Bato who tries to hold him in place. You hope that you will see each other again someday and that maybe, just maybe, you will be able to continue what you started without your annoying brother bothering you.

Let's say you had a big surprise when you snuck into Boiling Rock to help your brother escape and that Hakoda will not lose you again. This world is far too dangerous for a fire lily like you.

Although I do not own the characters from avatar the last airbender, this work belongs to me! I sincerely hope you liked it. please rate it and leave a comment! follow me to see my next posts! Don’t forget that the request are open💖💖💨

You can buy me a coffe if you want to support my work :  buymeacoffee.com/TheAirNomad

this work is for : @mochminnie​  . I hope you like it!

#southern water tribe #watertribe #hakoda #hakoda x reader #Avatar The Last Airbender #avatar #bato #hakoda crew #firebender reader #pirate reader #protective hakoda #sweet hakoda #sokka #katara #zhao #captain reader #soft yandere hakoda #idiots in love #my ocs #the boiling rock #Zuko #avatar x y/n #avatar x reader #bato being a good friend #hakoda being too pure

[pensbridge]

Just For Fun: My outline of episode 1 (Polin edition), but I'm not sure if I wanna post more (or finish) -

I started this awhile back and got motivated to add more after the update w/the date announcement. (it might not be completely in line after the new interview)

Season 3, Episode 1: Out of the Shadows ☆

Colin/Penelope return. We see Colin arriving home. The Featherington household is going through revisions as Portia is instructing for downsizing/majority of their stuff to be sold due to the recent financial crisis. As Colin pulls up to the family, we see 'welcome backs' & teasing exchanged. He looks on to the Featherington estate. Portia is on a quest with a new scheme/seems suspicious-ABC brothers look on in bewilderment/curiosity; C looks up and sees Pen from the window, who steps back and ignores when he waves.

Francesca debuts. (Colin questioning most of the ep). We see them back at the house; family plays catch up w/lots of set up for sibling dynamics (inc El-Colin exchanges re: her current status w/Pen & him trying to relate it to Pen's dismissal of him & a mention of the letters). also some talk about Colin's travels & an exterior look at what could be deeper to his internal change (he'll boast a lot & seemingly have found his purpose/worth). We'll get references and hints to his new 'hobby' and we'll get a shot or 2 of some things he brought back including a book (journal), while he maybe struggles with some of the intricacies of family living together after being alone on his travels.

We get Pen avoiding him at all costs [the ball is where things get awkward-Pen attempts flirting (more on that later) // she probably has some solo attempts in random moments we don't expect, where she is not actively in the position to be seeking, but tries to strike up a convo with random men].. We get the 1st confrontation in some private area after she walks off from one of her solo attempts, where Colin pops up- (Colin will be very confused, and in the dark of Pen's quest/frustration; Pen very standoffish/comes off rude to him).

Pen goes through makeover. Earlier in the episode we get Madame Delacroix interaction & foreshadowing to her physical change + LW updates & we'll see a tonal change of Pen's mission regarding it (aka girl=enraged).

Later, at the ball, we get things like small notices of Penelope's new look, Pen-Lady D. interaction, and an awkward El-Pen encounter [as well, we'll probably get onlooking disapproval from Eloise when she notices her exterior change]. Francesca probably meets John. Again, Penelope will try to flirt (this time with a man with great prestige) and somehow in her nervousness (or unknowingness, at the time to his status), she will go on to stumble through her interaction or unintentionally offend him in some way, feeling embarrassed at the witness of a group of surrounding people. So she runs off.

Meanwhile, Colin will notice a change, but be more confused than anything at her new shift/demeanor and, seemingly, personality; he spends the ball trying to speak with her again/worried if something had happened and of the correlation of her not responding to letters. (They have 1 more little encounter involving him trying to talk with her in the commotion of the ballroom, but it is interrupted by Cressida when she attempts to throw a dig at Pen, taking notice of her new wardrobe).

When he notices her run off, he follows..

They get into a tense & heightened exchange, where she admits her desire to find a husband. He is shocked and thrown off by her words, but offers to help her in his quick-thinking, desperate attempt, just hoping to get back on her good side. She instantly refuses at first, but he persists about it. She may not even accept at his first proposal due to her determination to forget him and/or the general timing at the ball with all the things going on close by them. The episode ends with a Lady Whistledown paper, setting the tone for a much darker figure with some foreshadowing of what's to come later.

#this wasn't meant to be so long but just general plot points at first #season 3 predictions #bridgerton season 3 #bridgerton #drafts #polin #penelope x colin #colin bridgerton #penelope featherington #bridgerton fic

[reaper-chan666]

Random 141 blurb.

Used a random word generator, came up with the word "piano," so we're gonna try something with that.

Warnings: none, fluff, ok, maybe some swearing, but that's about it. And some vague mentions of nightmares and rude people

Gn! Reader x 141 with mentions of Konig, Rudy, and Alejandro

Price would definitely seek you out after filling out paperwork, or after having to meet with higher ups. He'd come in, sit on the chair in the corner, take off his hat, close his eyes, and just be. He used to smoke his cigars to de-stress, but after hearing you play the piano that you somehow (Laswell) got onto base, he changed his ways, now smoking is a on the field activity only, and he would NEVER bring them around your piano.

Gaz definitely has an appreciation for your skill, he finds himself listening to you, no matter what he's doing, as soon as he hears the sound of soft notes wafting through the barracks, he's dropping everything just to get front row seat, well, the seat being a cushion on the floor slightly behind you and to the side. You cannot convince me that this fine man didn't grow up with family that played instruments all the time. Definitely hushes anyone who attempts to interrupt you while your playing. He finds it soothing when you're playing older music, and finds that, especially after he hears the whispers and snide comments about his age, and the 141's favoritism with him, that the music washes all that negativity away.

Soap is almost always the one racing Gaz for that floor seat, he wants to be close. He can be chaotic and pretty hyper, but that just makes it hard for him to calm down for the night, so he's always grateful when you play some soft music, sometimes, you play some lullabies for him, knowing he's having a really hard time calming down some days. He's definitely the one who brings in blankets and pillows, among other things, to the room for the team, to help them relax. Gaz joked around once and called him a bird, both (playfully) mocking his haircut, and the fact that it feels like he's making the 141 lounge into a giant nest, not that any of them mind it. Quite the opposite actually, they're all super grateful for it, they have a safe space to just relax.

Ghost is the one that is always getting you to play, surprising enough. When nights get too hard, when he wakes up from nightmares, when new recruits whisper about him, when a mission goes south, when he loses himself, he comes to you, and in a voice barely audible, he asks for a song. One to drown out his demons, to soothe his soul, to hold him together, to reassure him that he's ok. He has a specific spot he takes, he has a small mat he lays on, right underneath the piano, where the sound is the richest, but also where no one can see the mess he is, where no one will see the broken Simon, the one who hates how that mask feels. When it's late at night, and you've found him under the piano when everyone else is (supposed to be) sleeping, you sit down and play whatever he wants, most times, he's asking for lullabies, like Soap, they help him relax.

But once you've started playing for Ghost, the rest join quickly, and all of you end up sleeping in the lounge. When Alejandro and Rudy are in the area, or when Konig starts talking with the others, they join in immediately. Turning it into a relaxing family time. Because that's what they are, they're all family. They may not be related by blood, they may not have much in common, or similar tastes, but they have each other, their chosen family, which is stronger than anything.

They help you with upkeep, hiring a tuner to come in and do upkeep once every 2-4 months, depending on how much you've used it. They make sure to treat you well at the same time, massaging your hands and wrists, and your feet and ankles, sore from all the playing.

Yeah. This is your family, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

End.

Sorry for the rambling post, like I said, I wanted to write, and used a random word, to come up with some fluff for yall!!!!!

#Price #task force 141 #ghost #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mactavish #john price #cod #reaper chan's writings

[namethat-i-oughttohavetoldyou]

Trails of Revelation

Hiiiiiii @afairytalestray​!!! A cannonball hit my askbox, and I’m throwing it back now, haha. I put a bit of my own spin on your request, I hope you can forgive me for that! All my love to everyone who reads/likes/reblogs! ♥

A slight tickle in his nose was the only warning before the Rum Tum Tugger erupted into a series of sneezes.

He sneezed once, twice, thrice, and about a dozen more times, his face twisting into stranger and stranger expressions as he clawed at the metal wall he had lounged against with annoyance.

When no new sneeze followed the most recent, he shook out his mane and washed his muzzle, grumbling under his breath. Hopefully nobody had seen him.

That wish seemed to be in vain, for he heard a familiar voice saying: “Bless-”, only to trail off and fall silent. Tugger pricked his ears, stood up and went to investigate.

The voice’s owner did their best to not be found, but they underestimated Tugger’s keen eyes, as was usual. They didn’t call him “artful and knowing” for nothing, after all.

Around the corner, over the old chicken cages, and – there.

Tugger opened his mouth and was immediately interrupted.

“I’d rather have no company right now.”

“If I didn’t know better,” Tugger said, sitting down and combing through his mane, “I’d consider you to be rude.”

The addressed cat snorted and rolled his eyes from where he stood on a pile of threadbare carpets. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say that you’re not a good listener.”

“Luckily you know better, and I don’t,” Tugger concluded cheerfully, appraising his look one last time in a nearby puddle and jumping onto the carpet pile. “So tell me, what are you doing, Mistoffelees?”

“Mr. Mistoffelees,” Mistoffelees corrected him, and then pulled a face as if he regretted it.

“My,” Tugger said, wagging his eyebrows, “did you go and elope after all? I thought I’d never see the day.”

Mistoffelees grumbled, brushing his front paws over his curved ears as if to righten them. Tugger pretended not to notice how said paws left a trail of glitter in the air where-ever they moved.

“Remember when I told you all that I would have something to show you soon?” Mistoffelees started, after he had opened and closed his mouth a few times.

“Certainly.”

“Well, it will have to wait.”

Tugger’s ears drooped. “Elaborate?”

“I will not. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I have much to do, and said things require a lot of concentration.”

“What, am I distracting?”

Alas, Tugger’s smirk went unseen, but he didn’t need a verbal answer to know that it was ‘yes’, anyway. He was quick to follow the sparkly trail of Mistoffelees’ tail through the gaps between the carpets, trying to catch some of the glitter with his paws or tongue from time to time, but it blinked out of existence before he could touch it.

Thanks to their different length of stride, it took less than 30 steps for Tugger to catch up. Mistoffelees said nothing, but Tugger could tell from his twitching whiskers and ears that were just slightly pulled back that he wasn’t pleased with the general situation.

“You’re a nuisance.”

They came to a stop next to a stack of bent and broken easels.

“That might be one of my three names, now that I think about it…”

“Hmpf.”

Mistoffelees shook himself, casting off a cloud of glitter. Then he froze, watching Tugger observe how it was carried away by the breeze.

“That really wasn’t very impressive,” Tugger sighed eventually, throwing Mistoffelees a cheeky look. “I can see why we’ll have to wait a little longer.”

Mistoffelees’ mouth fell open. “You knew?!”

“You wound me,” Tugger sniffed dramatically, righting the single, artful (but not knowing) curl on his forehead. “Of course I knew. Did you underestimate me? I can’t blame you, I do it all the time!”

“It was supposed to be a surprise!” Mistoffelees whined, stomping his foot like a sulking kitten.

“And it was,” Tugger assured him, unsheating a claw to tap at a glittery particle still hanging in the air. “How do they say? Enchanté. I have been expertly wooed.”

Mistoffelees blinked. “Oh.”

The affectionate smile on Tugger’s face showcased all of his dimples. Unfair.

“Since I am aware that my... reaction wasn’t your intention, I will be the first to tell you that even though I cannot take a hint, I can definitely take a hint, if you get my meaning.”

A slow nod was the only reply. Then a frown, a nod, a deeper frown.

“In any case, I am certainly not someone to spoil a surprise, if you’re worried about that.”

Mistoffelees gnawed on his lip for a moment, then he looked up to his newfound ally. “Promise?”

“Cross my heart and hope to fly,” Tugger swore, drawing a circle on the right side of his chest.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“And I’ve made a career out of it! Am I not just so successful?”

Mistoffelees snorted again, but this time he leant forward and rubbed his cheek at Tugger’s shoulder, his short, fast-paced purr rumbling up. Tugger said nothing, silently admiring the way the glittery trail looked on his coat, mutely acknowledging Mistoffelees’ wordless confession.

Well, almost mutely.

“That’s convenient.”

Mistoffelees laughed, and the glitter multiplied, covering his entire coat from paws to the tips of his ears.

“Would you…” Tugger started and choked on his words when Mistoffelees took his paw in his, swinging it back and forth a little as if to try it out. He swung them as well when Mistoffelees stopped, wrapping his bushy tail around Mistoffelees’ short, black one and cleared his throat.

“Would you show me?”

Mistoffelees stopped swinging their paws and gnawed on his bottom lip again. “It’s… I’m not done yet. I haven’t gotten far, and I’ve made such a circus about it that it would be disappointing to watch it as it is.”

“Nonsense. Everyone’s seen you float things and yourself around since before you could walk, and I have yet to meet a cat who wasn’t absolutely amazed by your magic.”

At the last word, Mistoffelees twitched. “You know… I’ve thought about calling myself ‘Mr. Mistoffelees’, like the magicians do that my family watch on the television a lot. Is that a good idea or embarrassing or-”

“The Marvellous Magical Mr. Mistoffelees!” Tugger boomed in his best announcer voice, joyfully observing how Mistoffelees jumped and a few nearby cats fell from their nap spots with surprise. “It sure has a ring to it, dontcha think?”

“Not so loud!”

“I have been told that I’m a great hype man, in case that position is still open in your employ,” Tugger continued unperturbed, cackling when Mistoffelees huffed and swung their paws anew, almost violently.

“It’s certainly still open. Although I’m of half mind to let you and Cassandra fight for it.”

“You don’t say! Cassandra?”

“I was just as surprised as you are. Performative magic seems to be her thing. She still seems to be a tad wary around Tantomile and Coricopat.”

“Huh,” Tugger said. “I’ll see if we can solve that problem, but it shall have to wait for now. First, you will awe me into the ground we are standing on, if you please.”

Mistoffelees swung their paws, leant up to touch their noses together in a tender gesture that made Tugger’s knees shake and heart stumble, then he let go of his paw and stepped back, shaking out his fur, a flurry or glitter enveloping the two tomcats.

“See? I am amazed already,” Tugger said proudly, breathed in a load of tingling glitter, pulled a face, and began to sneeze.

And there it is: my first Tuggoffelees fic. I tried to not write a story that has been written 7090594 times already, and I tend to hc Mistoffelees as quite confident, actually, but I hope you liked this anyway and in spite of all that! XD Thank you for reading! ♥

#cats the musical #rum tum tugger #mister mistoffelees #tuggoffelees #namethat-i writes #catsiversary: the sequel

[writing-with-gremworm]

Train Wreck Pup, Adopted

Here's a little thing I wrote based on a TikTok I saw a while back. Crewel was the first character I thought of, so I decided to make a very indulgent fanfic chapter based on the concept. It's a modern AU and Ren, the Insert/reader, meets him on a train. This is probably the longest piece of singular writing I'll post for a long time, but oh well.

Notes:

Crewel is a platonic/filial Soft!Yandere

Epel, Vil, and Neige show up in the latter half.

Non-Canon characters feature prominently.

This follows Indulgent FanFic tropes

Non-Canon Yanderes are included

This Universe has a fairly high density of Yanderes even if they don't showcase such features in the segment of the story.

Inclusion of a character sibling

TW: Yandere (In the latter half), Swearing, Mild Violence

“An E-Mail? Was I denied entry into the event? … Woah, Woah! I got in!! I still need a few more designs, but I can start actually putting some of these looks together in the frenzy! This is so cool.” I hop up from my chair and twirl around a few times, stopping and excitedly shaking my hands. “Yay! Oh, shoot- I need to leave tonight- Thank you organizers for the free ticket. But aaaahhh rushed prep time!” I add after glancing back at the E-mail.

Before long I’m out the door with a suitcase in one hand and my sketchbook in the other ready to board the train. While waiting for the train I open my phone and glance at the rules for the Flash Forward Frenzy fashion event

“Oh right, I should message Vera later. I can do that on the train. Rules first.” I mumble.

The event surrounded using old materials to create new looks. Clothes that were maybe used once and thrown away were collected to be used and made into outfits we could wear. The event itself was a massive hit, it was always fun to watch people create incredible things out of the most unexpected materials. But it was an even more exciting time this year since the esteemed Divus Crewel, Vil Shoenheit, and Neige LeBlanche were going to be there as guest stars designing alongside smaller names like myself.

I am well aware of the fact that I’m unlikely to run into big-name figures like Divus or Vil, but I’m excited to see their works regardless. Vil is also a prominent actor, so I’m certain that his presentation of works will have an air of drama and intrigue. My designs aren’t going to be as glamorous, but they will be different and interesting. I’m confident that they’ll fill in someone else’s niche desires if nothing else. Luckily the rules don’t say anything again the use of magic to process fabrics. Given this, I can use my ability to create a base from the drawings I’ve already made and the necessary fabrics and thread, which are provided for the event. I can only do this once or twice per day for extremely complex ideas due to the amount of magic it takes. I don’t want to risk an over-blot from excess magic use on stage, so I’ll save magic for my most intricate piece.

My thoughts are interrupted by the arrival of the train. The ride is twelve hours with various stops between here and the Glamour Isle. Needless to say, I have plenty of time to work on more concepts while I’m on the train. After about two hours someone sits next to me, but I don’t look at them since I’m busy and that could be rude. At some point in time, I hear a familiar disapproving sigh from their general direction. I ignore it at first to finish my sketches and notes for a piece from my fantasy set.

“Why does it sound so familiar though?” I mumble to myself before glancing over to where I heard the sigh. It feels like my face should contort in surprise when I realize who it is, but surprisingly I just stare blankly for a moment before shaking my head.

“Ah sorry for staring.” I quickly mumble as Divus Crewel of all people looks back at me and smiles with a tinge of concern, “You must be on your way to Glamour Isle too then?” I mumble awkwardly. I already knew that he was going in that direction, but I didn’t know what else to say since I had already begun to engage in a, perhaps one-sided, conversation.

“You don’t plan on wearing something like that in Glamour Isle do you?” Divus asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Ah, I mean I think this is fine? My work is going to be center stage with everyone else’s, I don’t really need to stand out, just my work does.”

“My my, and you have such an interesting design palette too. A pup like you would do well with proper grooming. No show dog looks scruffy on stage my dear, and neither should you.” Did he compare me to a show dog? Wait, he’s actually talking to me? I mean he’s belittling my pathetic messy dad aesthetic, but like, he’s talking to me?

“Ah- well. Yes. You’re correct, but in the case of show dogs, the stage is set for them to display their obedience, finesse, and beauty. I don’t see how this correlates to me specifically when a fashion show is about fashion and its resonance with the models and crowd. But I appreciate the compliment. I’m quite proud of my capabilities and I’m excited to share them.” I start a little nervous before settling into a matter-of-fact tone.

“Little pup, fashion is about far more than just aesthetics. Appearance has a larger impact than you may realize. As an aspiring designer, it’s important to note the politics as well.”

“I suppose that makes sense. Thank you for the advice. I’ll make sure to keep it in mind.” I say with a small smile. I look back at my work and sketch for a bit longer before giving my hands a break and doing quick hand exercises. I can’t help but glance over at Divus a couple of times after that just to see if he’s still judging my fashion or whatever caught his attention before. This was starting to feel like a dream. For one, no one was approaching Divus Crewel which is unusual, but he was sitting next to me to attend the same event which meant he might take a closer look at my work. Around the four-hour mark, Divus spoke to me again.

“It’s good to be serious about your work, but you still have a couple of days until the event takes full swing. For now, you should rest or you’ll be exhausted when you reach the Isle. Pups that exhaust themselves needlessly miss playing with their owners.” He chimes leaning back leisurely but still exuding elegance and an air of authority.

“I’ll be fine. But thank you for your concern.” I say after a small pause allowing me to process what just happened.

“There aren’t going to be many passengers in this train car. That can quell your concerns about taking up space or being a bother if that is what holds you back.” Divus states confidently.

“Ah, well that is one thing. But I’ve always had difficulties sleeping in moving vehicles. I can close my eyes and drift a bit, but any unusual movement or stop will jolt me awake. I’m not sure how much that little bit of rest would help haha.” I explain after a few moments of silence. I didn’t want to lie to him or come up with something that he could feasibly change for me that I just didn’t realize. I already felt like I was accruing debt by talking to him quite frankly.

“Have you ever ridden this train before? I think you’ll find that you can hardly tell when it has stopped.” I think back to earlier when the train stopped and Divus walked onto the train. He was right, it had not been super noticeable. In fact, it was so difficult to tell that I almost didn’t realize anyone got on until he sat next to me.

“Huh, I guess you’re right. I didn’t really notice when the train stopped to let you on. I mean, of course, the sound stopped, but there was enough other white noise from the lights and other cars that it didn’t register.” Though of course now I was far more worried about bothering the Divus Crewel rather than actually being tired. Naturally, I didn’t want to say that out loud though, it might be irritating. He must have noticed somehow though because his next words were:

“Don’t concern yourself with bothering me. I was the one who suggested you rest. You should simply follow my instructions like an obedient pup. I’ll even set an alarm for you if you’re a good boy.” What followed was an amused chuckle as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. I open my mouth to speak but instead let out a sigh and mumble a small thank you and smile before placing my sketchbook on my lap and leaning back in my seat. Divus stifles another laugh but the tapping indicates he really did set a timer for me. It’s strange to be so pampered by a celebrity. Though honestly, I doubt we’ll chat much after this, I didn’t even give him my name.

– Somehow I manage to fall asleep. I even begin to dream. Once in a while, I have vivid dreams that I recall after waking up. This already felt like one of them because I knew I was dreaming. “Oh good boy, you’re here on time. I wanted to introduce you to one of my students. I’m sure you’re well aware of who he is so there is no need for me to elaborate.” Divus states with a flourish of his hand gesturing to the Vil Shoenheit. “Ah, Vil Shoenheit, of course, why wouldn’t it be? It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m Ren.” I mumble tiredly with a little wave. Vil crosses his arms and places a hand on his chin thoughtfully. “I see, I can salvage this, no, I will polish it into a diamond.” Vil nods lightly with an expression revealing he is already planning my demise. I mean my prettification. “Salvage? Polish? Wait- Divus- Sorry Crewel, did you want me to meet him to fix my wardrobe?” “You catch on quite quickly. But there’s a bit more to it than that. You’ll be working together on a project I have in mind. I expect only the best from you pups.” “Wait what?” Vil and I ask at the same time. Then the dream just ends. –

I wake up to the sound of quiet chatter and the alarm.

“Good evening,” I mumble groggily before sitting up. It takes me a moment to realize that sitting up means I either fell over or leaned over in my sleep, “Ah I’m sorry, I usually don’t move much in my sleep so I didn’t expect to fall over or anything.” I mumble apologetically.

“Perhaps you should have laid down from the beginning. You’d be less likely to hit your head that way. But you did sleep, so good boy. We’ll be arriving at the next stop in about half an hour.” Crewel informs me.

“Haha, yeah maybe. Ah, thank you.” I mumble before noticing my sketchbook isn’t in my hands, “Wait where did it go?” I mumble looking around before noticing that Crewel was holding it. I feel my face flush out of embarrassment. I doubt he looked through it, but I can’t help but feel a little bit flustered that he could have.

“I did look through a couple of designs,” Oh no, “They’re quite intriguing. I expect only the best from you during the event.” Oh no he looked through them. But he liked them so that’s good. But also why did he look through them? “I don’t think I caught your name earlier.” He adds with an expectant smile.

“Oh um- I’m Ren. I’m already familiar with you and your designs, it would be more surprising if I wasn’t. I’m glad you have such high expectations for me, it’s quite the compliment. Though I’m not sure I’ll match them. Thank you Crewel.” I say quickly, stumbling over my words a few times and rubbing the back of my neck.

“So that’s how you gathered I would be going to Glamour Isle as well. I’m a little surprised you didn’t ask for my autograph or bombard me with questions considering you ended up in my train car.”

“Wait- your train car?” I mumble before thinking things over, “Oh, OH, that’s why you said no one else would be here, no one else was supposed to be here. I can’t believe I just barged in I’m so sorry, you could have asked me to leave. I didn’t mean to invade your personal space.”

“Calm down little pup. Had I wanted you to leave I would have instructed you to do so. If you weren’t obedient I would have gotten them to take the rabid pup away.” Crewel states a bit amused, gesturing to the other figures in the train car.

“Ah right, they must have been your people then, or otherwise people with the association running the event to ensure your comfort. But I was here for two hours before you. Why didn’t they just ask me to leave then?”

“You’re not exactly intimidating, you’re also a child are you not?”

“Um … I’m not a child, actually I’m 20.”

“You are? Then you’re a bit older than most of my other pups, though your height wouldn’t give that away. You may be even shorter than Riddle. No matter, you weren’t a threat, and it’s clear you’re more interested in work than causing trouble.”

“Still though …” I start before thinking it over. Had they wanted me to leave this car they’d have taken me out. So I guess I had accidentally gotten permission to be here. Additionally, this chance encounter was going to be one of the most memorable meetings, so I’m not really upset about being here.

“Well since you were fine with it, thank you for letting me stay. It’s a lot quieter than the other cars would have been I’m sure.” I mumble with a small smile before opening my phone to review the E-Mail again. The organizers had established a room I would be staying in as well, which was awesome and unlike any other event I had attended.

“Do you know where the Glamrock Hotel is?” Crewel asks before I can look it up.

“Ah, no I’ve never been to Glamour Isle for an event before, so I don’t know where anything is actually,” I admit rubbing my neck again.

“Well as a teacher I suppose I should guide you,” Crewel states a bit amused with the strange logic he’d presented me.

“Uh- well I guess technically that would be accurate. You’re being quite generous. Hm, you said earlier to think about politics, what exactly do you gain from helping me? Not that there has to be an ulterior motive, but I am curious.”

“You catch on quite quickly little pup. Though I’m not asking for anything but your time at this moment. Additionally, If you meet my expectations like a well-trained pup, I’ll be in touch after the event.” Crewel says with an amused grin. I wasn’t sure why he was so amused, but I was certainly pumped to make the most beautiful set of outfits I could muster. The last half an hour felt like it flew by. Somehow I was making small talk with Divus Crewel in what I now knew was technically his private train car with trained mages around us. It was fantastical in nature and my heart was beating like crazy.

After we arrived on the Isle, Crewel accompanied me to the hotel because we were going to stay at the same hotel. It was strange but so cool. Admittedly if he was anyone else I would be wondering if he was trying to groom me, the negative kind, not taking care of myself grooming. But Crewel is well known to be skilled and generous, and his gestures were by no means romantic or sexual in nature, if anything it was like he was going to adopt a new puppy. Also, he had set up a number of events and attended even more as a guest and he did not tolerate nonsense. Had I bothered him, it’s possible I wouldn’t be in Glamour Isle, I’d be home.

Either way, when I made it to my room I smooshed my face into a pillow and let out sounds of pure excitement before pacing around my room and flapping my hands in excitement.

“Aaaahhh, I can’t believe the Divus Crewel spoke to me. This is awesome, I’m so nervous but excited for how this event is going to turn out oh my god.”

Since I slept on the train I wasn’t very tired so I decided to work on my designs a bit more and do some extra research before going to bed. When I did sleep I ended up having the same dream as before. I woke up early and reviewed the E-Mail again to make sure that I was keeping the dates organized in my head.

After taking a shower and changing into something slightly less dad-core, but still technically awful, I hear a knock on my door. I blink a few times before checking the peephole.

“!” I silently scream seeing the Divus Crewel on the other side. I quickly open the door before he knocks again and he grimaces upon seeing me.

“I couldn’t erase your disaster of a wardrobe from my mind, We’re going to fix … this. At least temporarily.” Crewel motions to all of me.

“Oh thanks, I’m so glad you remembered me for dressing like an unfashionable dad. But this is about the best I have in my suitcase. Wait, is this what you meant by asking for my time?” I admitted frowning a bit and looking over my outfit. It really wasn’t that bad, even normal one might say. Despite the dad-core vibes, it was definitely wearable.

“How astute an observation. Grab some of the clothes you aren’t attached to and come along little pup, this is going to be a very busy day.”

He was right of course. As soon as I followed him out of my hotel room I could tell he would be. He listed the plans for the day in order. It was kind of nice to be doted on in a weird sort of way. Though I was confused as to why I had Crewel’s attention at this point. There was no way he would actually keep in contact and introduce me to Vil Shoenheit after the event. It was just a weirdly realistic dream after all. Things are just weirdly lining up like that might be at all possible when I’m sure it is just Crewel being kind. Yes, just kindness.

Following that, our busy day started by heading to breakfast followed by a trip to the hair salon. After my hair was tidied up, though still the same hairstyle, we went to a number of different stores. All of them were sustainable and gave store credit for every item you traded in. Once he’s established the style I was comfortable with we found a few different outfits that looked good scattered throughout various stores. Each of the pieces could be rearranged, but they were notable on their own. Each pairing made a different feeling and it was very clear that some enhanced aesthetic while others undermined it. Some of the dark academia and cottage core pieces did not work well together.

After finding outfits and trading away my old clothes he took me to find accessories. I insisted that I should pay for everything, but he refused and simply stated that I can bring my ideas into reality well to pay him back. I can’t tell if that feels more like a compliment or a threat, but it’s certainly flattering. Somehow we fit all of that in before lunch and there was still more to do. By the end of everything I was exhausted, though extremely grateful.

“I’ll make the best version of my designs possible. That’s what you’re asking for in return right?” I ask on the trip back to the hotel.

“Good boy, you listen well. I’ll see what you can do in two days when it begins.” Crewel responds with a nod and a slight smile. – It's time for the event. We have two days to complete four outfits as a complete set using the magic tools and our own abilities to complete them as quickly but skillfully as possible. It's a challenge that many enjoy watching and admire. I’m a little nervous to be on TV, but I think that if I focus solely on my craft I can make it. Especially since I can essentially focus on one and use magic to create another since it's two separate days and I only need four outfits.

Now that I reviewed the game plan it feels less intimidating. The curtain opens to reveal the piles of clothes and materials we have access to before letting up find what we need. A few of the others sort through the pile with magic to locate exactly what they need. I sort through them by hand and feel the fabric textures before taking them back to my station where my assigned tools sit.

At the six-hour mark, we’re given an hour-long lunch and bathroom break. I definitely needed the food since I skipped breakfast. After the break, we get immediately back into work for the remaining six hours of that day. I finish the first piece two hours into the second half and use magic to form most of the second one before detailing it during the four remaining hours. By the time the timer goes off, I have two of the four outfits complete even. Additionally, I still have more fabric that can be used for parts of the first outfit for the next day set up at my station.

The next day I arrive early and notice that something is wrong with the more complicated outfit. Someone had cut it up. It was like a nightmare. It completely ruined my plan to make the clothes as efficiently as possible. Frustrated and upset I wanted to cry, but instead, I decided to improvise and alter the design slightly to include the visualization of the cuts rather than attempt careful and seamless mending. It takes two hours and I lose another hour finding more fabrics. So I decided to reorganize my magic use and create two bases with as much detail as I can manage before reaching my magic limit.

But the half point of the second day I’m exhausted but I manage to gain enough energy to finish and add the final details to the four outfits before the timer runs out. I stumble a bit feeling a bit nauseous now that the magic use and intense focus for twenty-four hours total were exhausting. After the timer goes off I sit down and wait for almost everyone else to leave before one of the people associated with the event walks over to me. I ask them to make sure that no one tampers with my outfits again overnight since someone had cut up mine and perhaps other people’s outfits the night before. They agree to tighten security and make sure that it was impossible for it to happen again. A bit uncertain of how successful they would be I start thinking of ways to justify asking to fix my outfits quickly before the show if I had to.

Using my magic to its fullest two days in a row was really pushing it. If I did so again I might end up sick. I don’t think that over-blots are supposed to make you sick. But it is convenient that I don’t go into a destructive frenzy overtaken by magic when I over-blot at least. I just almost die instead. Which I guess may be technically worse for me, but it is less awful for everyone else.

“Are you alright? I saw how tired you were earlier. I can get someone to help you back to your room, or you could stay in mine since it is on the first floor.” A familiar soft and slightly high-pitched voice asks. Looking at him I see it’s Neige LeBlanche.

“Ah I’m fine, thank you for your concern.” Why were all these celebrities so nice to me? I mean it has only been two so far, but that’s still a lot for me.

“Can I at least escort you to your room? You look a bit unsteady and I don’t want you to fall.” Neige voices his concern with a worried smile.

“There’s no need to go that far. I’m only on the second floor, so I’ll manage.” I say, though admittedly I was less confident about actually getting to the hotel than walking up a set of stairs.

“Then I’ll at least help you get to the hotel.” Neige insists.

“While that’s kind of you Neige, you don’t need to be concerned with them. I was already going to escort this pup back.” Crewel steps in unexpectedly. There’s no way that Crewel just told Neige LeBlanche that we were going to head back to the hotel together. It feels like a dad trying to keep a romantic interest away from his child. Which is funny because if anything he’s like a little brother. Well younger brother, he’s definitely a little taller than me.

“Oh, I didn’t realize you were acquainted with Divus.” Neige comments a little surprised.

“Crewel.” Crewel corrects.

“Crewel. But were you really planning on walking back with him?” Neige asks with doubt lingering over his words.

“Yes, we agreed to meet after the event since we had a chance encounter before this,” I explain, technically not lying, though assuming that since he came to find me he was impressed with my work.

“Oh, if that’s the case then we should meet again at some point too. I really admire your ability to work through challenges. Here, one moment.” Neige takes out his business card and hands it to me, “I hope you rest well tonight. You were Ren, right? I heard your conversation with the security personnel before.” That definitely sounded like an excuse, though I guess it’s possible for Neige to admire me. Just unlikely.

“Ah- yes my name is Ren. Well-”

“Well thank you Neige, but we should probably head back since the reveals and show are tomorrow. We wouldn’t want to be too tired now would we?”

“Ah yes of course. Well, it was a pleasure meeting you Ren, call the number on that card when you get the chance, I’ll see you around!” Neige leaves with his manager and a few guards.

“That was unexpected,” I mumble with a light sigh before remembering who was standing next to me.

“It was. Though I suppose he was right, you don’t look well. Perhaps I should carry you back.” Crewel muses.

“What? No there’s no need to carry me, I’ll be fi-” I begin before nearly falling over after another wave of exhaustion hits me. Crewel catches me.

“You’re small enough it won’t be an issue little pup. Besides which you look like you’re about to fall asleep. It would be unwise to travel on your own feet in that state. Tsk tsk, you really need to learn to take care of yourself.” He states picking me up bridal style.

“I- Thank you.” I conceded. I could tell he was right, I was exhausted. Even still I wanted to protest about how I didn’t want to owe him more, or how I didn’t think it was necessary. Despite those thoughts, my eyes were having trouble even staying open so I just closed them. – Before I knew it I was awake in my hotel bed, slightly disheveled and wearing my clothes from the night before.

“Oh. My. God. Did I fall asleep on Crewel again? Well I mean it wasn’t confirmed the first time but aaaahhh.” I immediately panic and place my hands over my face before realizing I need to get ready and look presentable for the showcase. “Ah, I don’t have time to panic,” I mumble before showering, dressing up, and eating an apple that was left on my bedside table with a small note not to skip breakfast in Crewel’s handwriting.

“Geeze, he really is like a dad at this point. It’s not like he adopted me as a pu- child though. It’s weirdly nice how comfortable he is to be around though.” I mumbled looking at the note with a bit of warmth filling my chest. It was nice to feel cared about.

With one big breath, I turn towards the door and head out. Though I had a weird feeling that something went wrong so I hurried to the venue where our outfits should be. I ask if I can check over my outfits quickly because they had been sabotaged before. Luckily I was let in since my outfits were all damaged in some way. It was devastating, and there wasn’t any fabric to fix them. Except for what I was wearing.

“I could use my coat and undershirt and still look mostly presentable while fixing them,” I mumble quietly, my voice shaking more than I wanted it to. Despite still feeling drained, I used my magic again, allowing it to flow through my fingertips to mend the fabric to the shape I desired it to with the fabric I was using in hand. It was a different colour, but the colour matched well enough that it looked intentional. Reaching the fourth outfit I could feel the strength in my legs waning, but I had to fix it.

Even if Crewel was already impressed, I wanted to fix this. To not let the stranger tampering with my work win. I needed to make them feel their efforts were wasted, that after everything I was fine. As my hands glided over the last portion that needed to be fixed a few people started coming in to check their outfits as well. Only mine had been tampered with. I felt my hands shaking as they let go of the now-mended fabric.

“Tsk tsk. What did I say regarding work and rest? Bad boy. You should ask for help if you’re in trouble.” Crewel scolds me before complimenting my handi-work, “It is well done, it looks intentional even. However, I can not condone overworking yourself because of the security’s lack of competence.”

“Haha, I remember. But I didn’t want to let whoever did this feel as if they’d won. I can’t let them feel like they’ve won. I don’t even know why they could be so upset with me.” Unless it is one of my old friends. They seemed to think the worst of me. But they wouldn’t do anything this devastating, would they? Well, Rachel might, but shockingly I didn’t see her here. I would have noticed someone I actively avoid.

“Hm, well your determination is a valuable asset. I suppose it’s a good thing I’m also a potions master. This will sustain you for the duration of the showcase, however, you must rest for the next couple of days.” Crewel states handing me a potion he had on hand, “Sigh. I can’t believe you used some of your only decent clothes because of this. I’ll have to start from square one training this pup. Don’t make this a habit.”

“Wait training?” I ask after downing the potion in one gulp.

“Yes, I’ll be taking you under my wing little pup. As you may have surmised you have impressed me. Though this still needs fixing.” Crewel again motioned to all of me. Suddenly I was reminded of my dream from the past few nights.

“Hey, this may sound weird. But by any chance is Vil Shoenheit also one of your pupils who happens to be the one who may or may not be responsible for fixing my self-care habits and everyday wear?” I ask before the potion fully kicks in.

“Oh? So the little pup is already aware. He must have spoiled the surprise, I’ll have to punish him later.”

“Ah, no, I’ve just had this weird recurring dream about meeting Vil Shoenheit under your tutelage. I wasn’t going to ask initially, I guess being tired made me voice my thoughts. But I haven’t actually met Vil yet.” I explain quickly. Crewel furrows his brows for a moment before an expression of realization covers the confusion.

“Ah, so you’re good at pattern recognition. It’s not uncommon knowledge that Vil is one of my pupils, and you took note of the fact I was treating you well. You’ll be an excellent student. If you pick up on things this quickly anyways. I expect only good things from you.” Crewel states with an almost proud smile before motioning me to come with him to his waiting room where a screen displaying the showcase was attached to the wall.

He discusses specifics with me while we wait for the showcase to reach the point where we all enter the stage and talk about our work and inspirations. Excluding Vil, Neige, and Crewel, the rest of us attending the event are lined up in order to head out second. The three notable guests head out to speak first.

“Sustainability in fashion is one of the greatest difficulties of this industry. But with the systems set up here in Glamour Isle, fashion waste is dwindling away and instead becoming fashion fuel. Isn’t that just incredible? Imagine all of the incredible things you can curate with such an array of fabrics, Imagine how much you can do exchanging materials and creating your personalized unique looks!” Neige starts, excitedly chattering about the benefits of sustainable fashion. Crewel and Vil both elaborate on this to varying degrees before everyone else is brought out and stood next to the models wearing their outfits.

I don’t notice the concerned look that Neige gives me. But I notice the fury of a familiar contestant near me. It was Dev-Ay. One of my ex-friends that happens to despise me. It shouldn’t be surprising that they’re here, they’ve always been skilled. But it does sting to think that they might have been so certain I was worth tormenting that they cut up my outfits. It also tells me that I probably didn’t notice people as much as I thought I would.

“I agree that sustainability and curating styles in this way are essential to bettering our society. It’s one of the reasons I was so excited to be a part of this project. Despite the unlikely mishaps, I had a blast creating designs influenced by the types of sustainable fabrics already being developed. It’s fascinating how through the use of orange peels or kelp beautiful sustainable fabrics can be created. My theme was Future Fantasy. Playing off of the alliteration of the event title, I wanted to curate looks that inspired the fantastical embrace of the future and the stories that such a future can hold. Imagine a sustainable world with glorious personalized fashion made for you. Fashion that makes you feel good and can aptly aid in your self-expression.” I begin as coherently as I can manage. Somehow my voice remains steady. Perhaps it is the desire to show Dev-Ay I am unaffected, or perhaps it was because I wanted to impress Crewel. But either way, I seemed to speak with a charisma I didn’t think I had. There was a prolonged moment of silence after I finished speaking before finally the live audience began to clap following Crewel’s and Neige’s examples. Their applause felt louder than any I had heard for me before and more impactful as it addressed my creations, it validated my ideas not some lame school speech. It was unexpected. Especially since afterward, the applause was noticeably quieter for the now flustered and disorganized Dev-Ay.

After the showcase, I felt my energy start to deplete rapidly. I figured that the potion was starting to wear off. Hopefully, I wouldn’t fall in front of Dev-Ay, I don’t want to give him fuel to berate me. While everyone else was chatting as the audience left and the models change, Dev-Ay approached me.

“Why? Why is it that you of all people did so well? Why couldn’t you just fold as you used to? Are you so proud now? Are you so proud after falsely accusing the one person that I love? You’ll never be anything but a pathetic liar who tears down other people. Are you upset because at least she liked being a girl? Were you mad that you couldn’t escape something that she accepted? Fuck you, fuck your whole fake-ass messaging. I despise you. I wish you would take a dive off the roof like you so badly wanted to before we were friends.” It took me a while to find the words I wanted to say. I didn’t know exactly what to say honestly. If he blamed me, then was there any way he would listen to me? Would he believe I was making excuses simply because I wanted to look good? Did he really want me to die because of this? Regardless I found my mouth moving before I could stop it.

“I don’t understand what my gender identity has to do with my distaste for Rachel. I was never upset at Rachel because she was cisgender. I think you of all people should understand that. Why are you so convinced that I lied to you? Do you love her so much you couldn’t see what she did to me? Has she never crossed your boundaries as she did to me? Or did you believe I actually withheld the information she conveniently forgot? That she claimed she forgot. I could be wrong. There is always the chance I misread her, but she hurt me and crossed my boundaries. I won’t go into the specifics again because you stopped listening to me years ago. But there’s no reason you should be this upset with me. The only way I hurt her was by telling her exactly what she had done and telling her that I couldn’t stay friends with her. I wasn’t wrong for standing up for myself like you never did for me. Your ability to trust seems like a blessing, but it may be a curse.” I respond with quiet, seething frustration, trying to remain as calm as possible but inevitably speaking poisonously. Before I know it I’m on the ground with blood pouring from my nose and a sore jaw. It takes me a moment to register what just happened. I try to get back up to my feet, but I can’t even move my legs to stand.

“Ren!” Neige called out with concern causing all eyes to turn toward Dev-Ay, Neige, and me. I bite my lip before trying desperately to tell my legs to move, but they simply shake beneath me on the floor as if they’re too scared to move. Too afraid that maybe they’re going to be hit next rather than my face.

“Dev-Ay. I was sincere when I told you I enjoyed being your friend and I was grateful for everything you had done for me.” I start, looking up at Dev-Ay who is clenching his hands into fists, “I don’t regret being friends with you, or stopping our friendship. I know that it was the right thing for me to do. I understand your anger. No, I understand that you are angry because you believe something I can not possibly fathom. But I never hated you. All I ask is that you let what happened to us remain in the past, it doesn’t benefit anyone to retain anger built on, at best, miscommunication.” I manage to say, smiling at Dev-Ay knowing it would make him angrier. Before he can respond Crewel and a few security officers walk over. The officers detain Dev-Ay who screams about how vile I truly am.

“That looks really bad Ren. Oh no, let me get some help.” Neige states with worry.

“I’ll take them to the nearest medic. You should calm the onlookers down.” Crewel states before picking me up again.

“Hah, I feel like a kid who got in a fight, and their overprotective dad came to pick them up,” I mumble in my exhausted delirium. The pain wasn’t even present anymore, I was just tired and numb.

“Haha, well I’ve taken a liking to you. Though next time someone punches you, bite back. Especially if it’s going to impact your precious face. You certainly have the charisma to back it up.”

“Aw, dad called me precious hehe. Thank you, you’ve really pampered me like a lil’ puppy while I was here. I feel weirdly comfortable with you. Man, I don’t want to fall asleep for a third time on you. It’s rude to use a celebrity like a pillow. And I’m not that charismatic, I’m just a bit silly.” I mumble with a yawn.

“You can fall asleep. You need it, and that potion, while good for a short time, does make you even more tired than before you use it. You did well, little pup. Though we have some training to do so you can do better in the future.”

“… Thank you,” I mumble quietly, avoiding leaning on Crewel with my bloody face as much as possible. I suppose he didn’t want the incompetent security to carry me this time, though I don’t know why he was compelled to carry me before. He really is like a father figure. I wish that I’d met him sooner. Maybe I wouldn’t have run into Rachel then. But I guess if I met him earlier I may have just been another kid, not someone of note.

The rest of the trip to a medic is in silence. When we get there the lady is nice and heals me with the stipulation that I rest for a solid two days to regain my energy. She asks if I have a guardian, to which I say of course, and that I will be fine under their care. Though how much of that will be true when I go back home is left to be decided. I don’t stay awake for too much longer, though I do hear a vague murmur of Crewel’s voice and phone chatter before I drift off to sleep.

– “Oh wow! This is amazing. Ren, you have to work with me on the next partner event that comes up. I would love to work with you!” Neige states as the dream fades into view. “Thank you. I’m quite flattered. Your designs are excellent as well.” I comment with a small smile before explaining that while it would be nice to work together I had already promised to work with someone else for the next event. Before I hear Neige’s reaction the dream shifts suddenly and I am in a cage. “I still love you you know. I was really hurt that you lied to Dev-Ya like that my sweet, adorable, Renny bird.” Rachel states with a certain sadness before reaching into the birdcage and caressing my face with her cold bony hands. “Why am I here?” I ask shakily before coughing a bit. My throat feels dry and my body feels cold. “Oh Renny, you know I can’t have you run away again. You’ll spread more lies and hurt more people. Unless I help you. Let me help you, I know I can fix you. Piece together the shattered pieces of you. Come here, I’ll give you a hug, just like before. We can make everything okay again.” Rachel says, her sickly sweet voice bouncing between the bars of the birdcage. I can’t say anything, I just stare at her as her arms elongate and weave through the bars to reach me. To touch me. To keep me trapped in this birdcage. –

I wake up with a start and sit up quickly before someone pushes me back into bed.

“What happened to you? Did you trip over the stairs? I warned you those long pants would make you fall dummy.” My sister Vera comments before sitting back down next to me, “Seriously though I was worried when I got a call to home about you being sick again. Did you overuse your magic?”

“Like you’re any better. Who are you to ask if I tripped on the stairs, didn’t you fall up a ramp that one time?”

“Oh shush you. You didn’t answer my question. What happened?”

“Dev-Ya punched me. I don’t know if he tried to sabotage my outfits yet, but I strongly suspect he was related to that too. Sorry I didn’t tell you about getting into the fashion thing. You weren’t home for a while anyways right?” I justify just recalling the fact I was planning on messaging her before and just didn’t.

“Ren, I wasn’t home sure, but you still should have told me! I would have come to see your work if it lined up with my work schedule.”

“Oh Vera, you’ll never guess who I met.”

“Oh really? Try me.”

“I met Divus Crewel.”

“Yeah I know that much, he was the one who called me. Imagine my surprise when the Divus Crewel was calling about my older sibling needing someone to drive them home. Bro, he asked if I was your older sister, how goofy were you to warrant that question?”

“Bro- It’s not my fault though. I just accidentally didn’t realize I got on the wrong train car and dressed enough like a hobo that he assumed I was a child.”

“Bro.”

“I know bro.”

“Going back a bit, I thought Dev-ya cut contact with you after that gross nasty did the bad thing I shall not name.”

“Oh yes, thank you for not naming the bad thing. But yeah, I thought nothing would come of it, but apparently, he was really mad at me. I wonder if Rachel encouraged this. I don’t think he would have acted as extreme otherwise.”

“I mean yeah maybe. But he was always kind of ick though.”

“I know, you were right. You’re always right when it comes to people.”

“Damn right I am.”

“Hey Vera, can you hand me my phone?”

“No, I can’t.” They say handing me the phone anyways. I smile at them lightly and open up my phone to check a few things. Firstly, if I had been contacted by Crewel since apparently he had found out my sibling’s number he may have found my contacts. Specifically “home” or otherwise Vera called my phone, but I couldn’t pick up because I was deliriously exhausted.

“Oh right, I was supposed to tell the Crewel you woke up. He acts more like your dad than our actual dad did haha.”

“Yeah, right? I was thinking the same thing. If he was still alive I wonder if that would have changed at all. I mean, it was really mom who was the worse parent, at least dad had an excuse.”

“I guess. But whatever, not the time. Time to message your ‘new dad’ since you seemed to have picked one up out of nowhere. You better not abandon me for another family.” Vera states rolling her eyes.

“Thanks, dad, and of course I won’t, you’re the only blood-related family I want to stay in contact with at the moment,” I say playfully rolling my eyes back at her.

Vera messages Crewel and much more quickly than I had anticipated he is in the room with us. We talked about a few things. Who Dev-Ya was, why he was so upset, what relation it had to my outfits, and why I lied about having a parental figure at home.

“Come to think of it. You’re a celebrity designer, you’re quite busy. Why did you come here directly to talk to us?” Vera asks.

“Well, while Ren is a student of mine, I was thinking that I could provide you with a better job as well and a place much closer to my design studio. If you’re all the other has, it would be rather cruel for me to separate you for a lengthy period of time. Despite how my name sounds, I’m not unreasonable.”

“Okay dad, sure thing. You’ve been really soft with me though. I don’t see how you would be. You just have high expectations right?”

“Say what you will little pup. I’m sure you’ll find I’m not as lenient as you seem to think I am. Also, Ren. How is it that your sister dresses so fashionably and you dressed as you called it in ‘an unfashionable dad aesthetic’?” Crewel asks, raising a brow.

“I uh, make their clothes and they take care of their skin better than I do,” I mumble slowly looking away from Crewel.

“I told them I don’t need to look nice either, but they insist that I should wear nicer clothes. I’m not a seamstress like them, I’m a watercolour painter. So I can’t just make them nice clothes to wear as they do for me.”

“But you look so pretty though, you definitely deserve all the nice things.”

“No, I don’t, you do.”

“No, I refuse, you do.”

“It looks like two little pups in need of some retraining.” Crewel breaks up what was about to become a battle of the no-yous, “Anyways, after Ren fully recovers, I’ll take you to your new home and explain the job I have for you in greater detail. That should be suitable for you I presume?”

“Excuse me, but why would you help us? Did you just adopt my sibling and say I could tag along?” Vera asks a little skeptical about this sudden favor toward us.

“I mean it’s not like he doesn’t gain anything. We’re both skilled artists who could contribute to his business and we’re in a position where it would be best if we joined him to gain the benefits we would from this.”

“Okay, I get that, but I still don’t understand why us.”

“While I don’t need a reason and this little gremlin child would technically owe me under other circumstances, I have my personal reasons for this predicament. Also, I am deeply concerned by the fact you trusted me so quickly. I will tell you the rest eventually, but for the moment I’m sure good pups won’t question me further.”

“Oh, you’ve yet to see gremlin Ren my newly adopted father figure. Now that I’ve fallen asleep near you like three times, I think it’s safe to say you’ll see weirdness soon. You don’t seem like a bad person though? I mean, you’ve had plenty of chances to make my life significantly worse, but you didn’t.” I laugh a bit. Vera raises a brow at me like they were saying, ‘Do you have no sense of danger child?’

“Gremlin Ren? Like when you said ‘Aw, dad called me precious’? I suppose you may simply be a good judge of character, though I’d still be more careful.”

“Hebba debba ha- Shoosh, we don’t talk about deliriously tired Ren, and sure, I could be more careful I guess,” I respond quickly, waving my arms vaguely in his direction.

“Bro.” Vera vocalizes her surprise, crossing her arms and shaking her head.

“Since we haven’t yet, Ren, let us exchange numbers so that I can contact both of you if need be. I’d rather not call your sister every time.”

“Oh alright, yeah that’d be good, we won’t always be together, so that wouldn’t have worked out every time anyways,” I respond before remembering I had Neige’s number somewhere too. I completely forgot to mention him to Vera before, oh well I can bring him up later. For some reason, I don’t feel like I should mention him in front of Dadus Crewel.

We exchange numbers and chat a bit about my health, fashion, and my sibling’s art. Vera ends up being quite flustered but flattered by the compliments she receives. It’s quite cute actually. Eventually, Crewel leaves and I’m left to rest with Vera making sure that I don’t skip any meals. She knows that I won’t eat if I don’t feel like getting up.

There was a lot to think about laying down. What was going to happen with Dev-Ya and Rachel? Would I have to tell Crewel about Rachel? How was it going to be learning under Crewel? Would Vera finally meet her Idol since we were going to be in the fashion industry? What did the dream with Neige and Rachel mean? I could probably figure out a couple of them. My dreams tend to be tied to reality, though upsetting things always end up more abstracted or represented by different characters. The thing with Neige may actually happen, or something similar will occur if I don’t spoil the surprise again. The more abstract representation of Rachel means I might meet her again. There’s no way that I would actually be trapped in a birdcage right? That seems quite unlikely despite how unhinged Rachel can be. I’ll probably have to tell Crewel about Rachel if I notice anything off like with the outfits. Though given his resources I may not be the first one of us to bring it up. Maybe I’ll wait until he asks me about it.

Two days pass slowly with the occasional conversation with my sister and her excitement about having a potentially less dull job soon. We vaguely touch on the fact she might meet her idol and then she wonders if she’ll have to hide her fanart of him before remembering that the only art she gets is of fictional characters so it's fine. Besides which there’s no way that Epel Felmier would ever see her room anyways right? By the end of the second day, I feel energized enough to start packing things up. Though I take care to pack my clothes separately from everything else just in case they’ll be confiscated for use as scrap materials. Not that they would, but considering Crewel’s judgemental glances, I have a feeling it isn’t an unreasonable concern.

Vera convinces me to call Crewel this time since she had to do so last time and he arrives equally as quickly as before with a few people to help us pack up. He motions for us to follow him while the movers grab all of our stuff in storage containers of various sizes and random boxes. On the way, Crewel discusses Vera’s position on the creative team designated to Epel and she literally gasps.

That evening when Crewel isn’t within earshot Vera tells me they hope he doesn’t notice them because they would never be able to talk to him well and might even accidentally refer to him as “baby girl” which they know he doesn’t like.

Unexpectedly our conversation takes a pause when I receive a message from Dev-Ya. He had been the one to block me initially, so I couldn’t imagine anything good would come out of whatever message he sent me. Especially since the last time we spoke, he punched my face. I didn’t open the message, but I read the first bit of it that was displayed on my phone screen from the notification.

[I want to meet up to apologize to you properly.] It began. I had a feeling that he didn’t actually want to apologize. Though I could be wrong, it doesn’t feel like something he would do.

“What’cha lookin’ at?” Vera asks, breaking the silence.

“An unexpected message.” I say vaguely frowning at my phone before shutting it off entirely for the moment, “I don’t really want to look at it though.”

“Oh, did Elliot message you again?”

“Not this time, no. Also, I blocked Elliot, I won’t be receiving his messages unless he does something to get around being blocked.”

“You seem to have a lot of enemies,” Crewel adds walking into the room with a pointer that has two collars attached to the other end of it. He was usually depicted with it, so it’s weird he didn’t have it at the event.

“Well, when you’re a doormat you tend to attract people who want to use you. Not that I am as much anymore, but it does sometimes feel like it would be easier to be one again.”

“That’s why I told you not to deal with them in the first place dummy,” Vera mutters.

“Are you sure you’re not the older sibling Vera?”

“Oh come on. Besides Vera is taller than me which automatically makes her the younger sibling.” I say playfully gesturing dramatically to Vera.

“That was because you were malnourished, you’re taller than me now,” Vera comments in turn with a small frown.

“Well I was going to get right to business, but I have a feeling we should discuss what happened with Dev-Ya on Glamour Isle.”

“I would be totally cool with skipping over that for now. Business stuff ooh.” I point finger guns in Crewel’s general direction.

“Oh wait, was that who messaged you?” Vera cuts in.

“What lead you to that conclusion? But yes, Dev-Ya texted me.” I sigh lightly rubbing the back of my neck anxiously.

“Well, that is concerning. What did he say?” Crewel asks, looking at me pointedly.

“I didn’t want it to pop up read so I only looked at the part that popped up in the notification. I don’t know what the rest says, but apparently, he wants to apologize. I doubt he means to apologize given how volatile our last meeting was.” I explain tiredly, rubbing my eyes and sighing.

“Bro block him. Gross. I bet Rachel told him to apologize so she can try to get back on your good side after ‘that’.”

“I figured much the same … I guess I should tell you who Rachel is now that we’re staying in your care huh? You certainly picked a puppy with a lot of problems.” I say with a small laugh before taking a deep breath and thinking about how to start.

“You are by no means obligated to give me your life story simply because I’ve brought you here. Though it would be helpful to identify people to avoid or deal with later.” Crewel responds, mumbling the last part and hitting his pointer against his hand.

“I didn’t catch that last bit, but I still feel like I should anyways. I won’t go into specifics, but essentially I was in a relationship where I would give as much as I could to make Rachel happy, but she never listened to me or returned the affection I gave. It got particularly bad at one point, but I won’t get into that. It messed with a lot of my friendships though since that became my standard. Elliot, who was mentioned earlier, is similar, but worse in some ways. I’m lucky I found out who he was before I met him in person though.” I explain vaguely, pausing a few times, wondering if I should be telling Crewel all of this. He practically adopted us, I’m not even sure how things worked out this well, but I couldn’t help but feel like as soon as he knew more he was going to throw me away.

“It looks like you were surrounded by some pathetic mutts. I’ll make sure they don’t show up around you. For now, you should probably block any of them you’ve yet to and stay focused on something that won’t keep your anxiety up. I’m sure that all deeply impacted you. No one goes through upsetting events unscathed. I don’t really do hugs, but you two can speak to me about anything that is troubling you. It’s one of the responsibilities I signed up for taking you in as my students. A teacher's job is to make sure his students thrive in the learning environment.”

“You’re definitely acting like a dad now. You don’t do hugs? What's with carrying me to a medic instead of letting someone else do it?”

“I’m not sure actually.”

“Oh? You’re not sure? Sounds likely fatherly instincts ooh.”

“…” Crewel doesn’t reply, he simply places a hand to his chin thoughtfully, placing the hand with the pointer in it against his elbow.

“Hey, Ren you should block those nasties.” Vera points out before I can react to Crewel’s silence. I had already forgotten that blocking people was mentioned so my mouth forms an ‘oh yeah’ before I turn my phone back on. It flashes on a full brightness before returning to the lowest setting where I usually have it.

“Ow, my eyes,” I grumble before going through and blocking the numbers I had yet to block. It was Dev-Ya’s and some guy named Teiran I didn’t remember but had a negative feeling about for some reason. Rachel and Elliot were already blocked before so I didn’t have to worry about them for now.

“You came in here to talk business initially right? Let’s do that.” Vera states, taking a lead in the conversation. Probably in hopes that Crewel would leave as soon as he said what he planned to.

“Right, business. First of all, excuse me for barging in earlier. I can assure you this will not become a habit. I live separately from you and I’ll make sure to inform you if I need to speak with you both prior to my visits unless it's an emergency of course. Onto business, there is a large event surrounding new fashion coming up in six months, the Summer Unlimited Fibers Fresh and Economic Revolution annual event. You’ll be put into teams of at least three. Though these teams can be sorted out beforehand which is what we’re going to do. As you may have already guessed, I plan to assign you two to a team with Vil Shoenheit and Epel Felmier. Until then, however, we need to increase your prestige and credibility.”

“I’m mildly concerned by the fact it spells the out ‘suffer’ as the acronym, but I digress. So you mean you’ll be making sure we get into events to showcase our abilities? If this goes well, we’ll be working on one of the biggest events in the fashion world with some of the most well know fashion-related celebrities. But if you have other pupils, then why did you select us?”

“Oh, I suppose I should have specified. I’m also a teacher at Night Raven College. The students there are probably who you mean by my ‘other pupils’. As for why I chose you two, there are a few reasons. Most obviously, it brings diversity to the group. A non-binary gremlin with dark-academia vibes and a lady steeped in Ouji fashion pair well with the adorable Epel and glamorous monarch-esque Vil. It’s like a set of fantasy villains. Quite an eye-catching arrangement no? Additionally, you already work well together, I’m afraid some of my other students are too much like divas to work well as a group. Individually they all have strengths, but until they mesh, they’re like oil and water. While you have yet to work with Epel and Vil, you will be more willing to compromise with them when necessary.”

“Oh, I guess that makes sense. Diversity is an important note for intrigue. However, I’m under the impression that this is in part because of Neige’s potential group. Either they’re also trying to be diverse, or that group is going to essentially be a boy band right?”

“Correct. Given the previous year, it’s likely that Neige’s group is going to be more diverse. There was a lot of discourse surrounding some of the former members, though somehow that discourse gave Neige a popularity boost.” Crewel states, his voice dripping with annoyance.

“Right, weren’t Neige and Vil placed on the same team as two newbies who ended up being a mess all things considered?”

“Unfortunately.”

“So you don’t want the hosts to make Neige and Vil part of the same team again? But you don’t have much time to locate some new talents, and those you could reach out to would make things more difficult.”

“Essentially.”

“Considering that you came here almost immediately. You have something in mind to get us started right?”

“Very good. Yes, I have a few events lined up for you. I’ll handle getting you in, you are going to need to focus on curating new designs. I have more for you after this event, so don’t burn yourself out like last time. Since security was so lax at the last location, I can promise you I’ll ensure more reliable security this time.”

“Can you tell us the specifics like dates and themes?”

“I’ll go over it with you another day, but for now I’ll be E-Mailing you all of the relevant information. Though I’ll need to give you your company E-Mails and their passwords before you can use them.”

“Company E-Mails? Wow- that’s fancy.”

“Oh, we had those at my previous job.” Vera mumbles.

“Good, then you should be familiar with professional E-Mail etiquette.”

“E-Mails have etiquette?”

“…” Vera and Crewel look at each other, perhaps wondering how I had made it this far without knowing that there was such a thing as E-Mail etiquette. Crewel ends up discussing specifics with us anyways before handing us our company E-Mail information. After he leaves Vera and I unpack a few more things while bouncing ideas off of each other for the first event.

We head to bed soon after and both wake up early. Getting used to a new space was going to take a little bit. Everything was so much cleaner than it ever had been. There’s only so much progress we were able to make at the old house with my studies and Vera’s work. Regardless, we had things to do and not much time to dilly-dally about new surroundings.

The next few days raced by and before we knew it we were presenting in front of a crowd. Though this one was notably smaller than the one from the Flash Forward Frenzy. Unexpectedly, Neige was one of the guest judges alongside Vil. After the show is over Neige approaches us.

“I didn’t expect to see you here! Wow, your designs are still so impressive. Oh, a pleasure to meet you, Vera, I’m Neige LeBlanche!” Neige starts excitedly grasping my hands, acknowledging my sister after a moment's pause.

“It’s nice to meet you too. I’m Vera, Ren’s sister.” Vera introduces, looking at Neige’s hands and then back to me with a raised eyebrow.

“Hello again! Also, I’m sorry, I completely misplaced your business card, so I wasn’t able to add your number to my contacts after everything.” I apologize, wondering if he was under the impression that I just didn’t like him.

“Oh no, well I suppose it’s not unexpected. You were in really bad shape after the Frenzy. I’m surprised you were on your feet this quickly. Hmm, why don’t I just add my number to your phone this time? There’s no way you’ll lose it that way!” He states with a wide smile befitting a prince.

“Sure! That would probably be better.” I reply before pulling out my phone. Vera blinks at me, ‘Seriously? You know that Vil and Neige are rivals, you really want to die on the hill of befriending everyone until you get hurt?’ I hand Neige my phone and he quickly types in his number. I stifle a laugh when I see that he’s oh-so graciously nicknamed himself for future reference.

“Do people call you Neggy?” I ask curiously, looking at the little heart emote he’d added at the end too. I mean it was distinct, I’d give him that, but it felt a little unnecessary.

“Only friends do. I’d like to think we’ll be friends though so you can call me Neggy too!” Neige explains still just as bubbly and excited as before.

“Okay, but I’ll still refer to you as Neige in public.” I smile a bit. He was cute if nothing else. It was like finding a little brother. Though Vera would always be my favorite sibling. Before I can give Neige my number in turn Vil joins us.

“Hello, Neige. Sorry to cut your conversation short, but these two have a prior engagement.” Vil states with a practiced smile, elegantly placing a hand on his chin. I wonder how much of the conversation he heard when walking over. Regardless Vera’s assessment that being friendly toward Neige would give me problems was probably going to be a little too accurate. Vil was already displeased, I couldn’t imagine that our trip to the meeting room with Crewel and Epel was going to be comfortable.

“Yes, unfortunately, we do have something else to tend to. I’m sure we’ll meet again given the industry. Let’s head out.” I add, looking at Vera who rolls her eyes at me and also confirms that we should leave.

“Ah, goodbye Ren. I hope we have a chance to talk more next time. Safe travels!” Neige says before saying farewell to Vera and Vil collectively. We walk in silence until we reach our transportation. After the door shuts Vil starts to speak.

“So you’re friendly with Neige LeBlanche?” He asks with a smile that conveyed his displeasure.

“Well, I don’t have a negative opinion of him as of the moment. But we’ve only spoken a few times so it’s difficult to say if I’d ever give him preference. Though to be frank, my main concern is being polite since unlike you, my clout isn’t very good.” I explain. It was true that I was fairly neutral towards Neige, he may be cute, but he’s not very memorable for anything but that. Given the choice, I’d rather be friends with Vil since that would make things less complicated and Vil is also more interesting. The media is divided on how to depict Vil as his fashion sense and acting career have cast him as a villain. Do they show him as tragic, cruel, or even secretly good?

“I see. I suppose that makes sense. Though I will remind you to avoid being too friendly with him. Even if you’re just being polite others will take your politeness as affection and twist your image.” Vil explains, a bit softer and less peeved than earlier. Was he worried about me? “I have to agree with Vil. Ren, you’re too careless with people.” Vera adds quietly, glancing at Vil before looking at me, “You shouldn’t have let Neige grab your hands either, what if there were paparazzi? Neige has the barrier of being the highest-ranking celebrity, you’re not safe from being slandered and defamed.” Vera adds with concern, her voice shaking.

“Vera- I know. I’m sorry. I’ll be more careful. Unfortunately, I have a feeling that the media is going to depict me as a playboy at this point. I mean, there’s no way that there aren’t pictures of Crewel carrying me circulating at the moment. With that, if there also end up being pictures of Neige holding my hands then I’ll be in trouble.” I apologize, sorting out my thoughts and realizing all at once just the predicament I had been put in.

“Usually Crewel is so careful about his image. But I suppose he has always had a soft spot for his students. Though he would never admit that.” Vil muses, “If you understand all of that, why aren’t you more guarded?” Vil adds with added annoyance.

“I- don’t have anything to say for myself. It’s just stupid.” I state looking down at my feet.

“We’ll discuss this with Crewel later. Vera, you weren’t at the Frenzy so I didn’t get to see your abilities in action before. I’m excited to see what you’ll do in the future. You seem quite promising, and perhaps wise.” Vil compliments Vera who smiles a bit before thanking Vil for his compliments. Eventually, it reaches the topic of understanding why Crewel said he’d need to fix my wardrobe.

“We already have plans to curate your wardrobe, unfortunately, there simply wasn’t time before this event, so you had to wear the ones from Glamour Isle. But no more. I shall make you shine like a diamond. And perhaps blind Neige.”

“What is it with people mumbling the last part of their sentences? I’m grateful for your time and efforts in this. I’ll try not to undermine your expectations.”

Eventually, we make our way to the meeting room where a few unfamiliar faces sit with Crewel and Epel. Most of them are dressed in business attire with some notes, but one of them looks completely different from the rest. Dressed in a dark feathered cloak with a crow mask and cane, the fae lounges at the head of the table. This also implies that he has a higher position than Crewel. Who is this guy?

“Ah! You’re all here. Yes, it is I. Crowley your beloved CEO and headmaster at NRC.” Yeah, I still have no idea who Crowley is.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Crowley,” I say with a polite smile.

“Yes, it’s lovely to meet you, Mr. Crowley,” Vera says in turn.

“It’s a pleasant surprise to see you attend the meeting CEO,” Vil states with an elegant practiced smile.

“There is no need to be so formal with me! Just call me Crowley. After all, you all are important assets to our company.” Crowley states in a sing-song tone, “Oh right, feel free to sit anywhere, there’s no need to stand so stiffly.” He adds with the motion of his hand.

“Thank you, sir,” I say before sitting one seat away from Crewel so that Vera can be seated beside two people she knows. Vil sits beside Epel on the other side of the table and introductions of everyone at the table begin. The table consists of Crowley, Crewel, Epel, Vera, Vil, Trein, Vanrouge, and I. The meeting covers schedules, the clean up for Crewel’s sudden dadittude, and current media standings. Admittedly during the more budget-oriented pieces of the conversation, I was completely lost.

After the meeting ends Crowley leaves immediately followed by Vanrouge. Epel and Vil head out after speaking briefly to Crewel. Vera and I decide to follow Vil out for the moment. We weren’t stopped so we left the room. Vil notices us and motions for us to walk a bit closer to the two of them. I can almost hear Vera internally screaming being so close to Epel.

“We have more to discuss outside of the meeting since they didn’t cover everything. You’re probably wondering who Lillia Vanrouge and Mozus Trein are. They’re investors in the company that happen to be on good terms with most of us. Since they have such a big say in our company, they tend to appear in official meetings discussing budgets and plans for the company's future.”

“You realize that Crewel probably would have explained all of that to them right?”

“Yes, but the conversations between Trein and Crewel tend to be lengthy. We have to wait anyways, it makes for better discussion if the other parties aren’t preoccupied with something else.” Vil says motioning for everyone to sit down in what is probably a waiting room or lounge of some sort.

“Eh- Yeah okay. Ahem. Hello again, I’m Epel. It’s nice to meet you both.” Epel says with a sparkly smile.

“Wow, I didn’t realize that people could literally sparkle,” I mumble thoughtlessly. Vera covers my mouth before I finish.

“The pleasure is all mine,” Vera states simply, smiling politely but definitely freaking out internally. After a bit, she uncovers my mouth and I am free to speak again.

“I guess we’ll be seeing each other a lot more frequently right? So wouldn’t it be a good idea to figure out some baseline things to avoid doing? For example, eating sounds really bother me. If I dine with others, it is usually in a noisy place so I’m less overwhelmed by the eating noises but rather the environment.”

“Ah, I suppose you’re right. Then I’ll state the obvious. Be more careful about your image and who you associate with. Additionally, do not needless contact Neige LeBlanche as that too could become problematic.”

“Ah, I get it, if anyone sees either party text the other, a deeper relationship will be assumed because it makes for a better story and more interesting gossip.”

“Exactly. I suppose that means you had no intentions of actually contacting him then?”

“Well, I was undecided initially, which is why I even mentioned the number again in the first place, but given this, it’s better to avoid contacting him. He’s been at the center of enough drama where everyone else ended up looking bad that I don’t really want to chance an ‘Oops, I didn’t realize they could see my screen lol’ moment.”

“I’m glad you’ve come to your senses.”

“I suppose if it's just us, avoid calling me cute or referring to me too fondly. I’d rather not be bombarded with those things outside of work too.” Epel adds, still sounding soft and polite.

“Ah, alright. If I had to add something, it would probably be along the lines of wariness around group chats or anything. I’ve had a friend or two in ‘secret’ group chats that were too careless about ensuring the excluded parties weren’t aware they were excluded.” Vera mentions with a brief explanation.

Before we could continue the conversation an announcement was made over the loudspeakers to find a place to hide while a situation was being dealt with.

“Well, that is concerning,” I mumble.

“What in tarnation? Concerning? That’s downright mortifying. What could possibly be happening?” Epel replies with a panicked expression.

“Let’s go into the nearest room. Now.” Vil states staying composed and ushering us all into a room that has a door that locks.

“It’s our first day here and something went wrong,” Vera mumbles, leaning on me and clutching their arms tightly.

“I’m not sure what’s happening, but it will be alright, we’ll just stay quiet. I’m right here.” I whisper as quietly as I can, placing a hand on Vera’s shoulder. The room stays silent after that. Outside of the room, we hear footsteps and a knock of metal on the floor.

Clack clack, clang, clack clack, clang

The person outside calls a name I don’t recognize, but Vil’s expression shifts into one of disturbed understanding.

“I know you’re here my love. Just come out and we can talk.” The voice calls out with a deranged laugh. ‘Ah, it’s someone’s crazy fan or ex.’ I think frowning a bit.

Clack clack, clang, clack clack BANG

The door shudders as a dent forms in it. It takes a moment to process that it was our door that had been hit until I see Epel standing before the door, magic circling his hands while he stands in front of us.

“Oh? Are those frightened breaths I hear? My my, you always were such a delicate thing weren’t you?” The voice exclaims, excitement dripping over their words as something crashes into the door again. I find myself wondering how this guy got here, how they possibly managed to get past security in this place.

BANG

The dent grows as the hinges cry out in pain.

BANG

The door squeals in agony.

BANG … Thonk

The door falls down slowly as an unfamiliar grinning figure peers into the room.

“Oh Icy, there you are!” The intruder exclaims looking at Vera. Vera looks confused and frightened. I find myself moving before I can think about it. I crash through the door we locked to get in here, pulling Vera behind me.

“GET BACK HERE!” They scream followed by the sound of fire crackling through the air followed by the whip of vines.

“Who the fuck is that?” Vera whisper screams, grabbing my hand tightly.

“I don’t know. But we need you to get out of here, or hide really well.” I say in reply, my voice sounding much calmer than the heart beating in my chest. My shoulder starts to throb.

“I-I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t know who that is.” She says panicked.

“I know, I know, it’s not your fault, they’re just a creep.” I console them, starting to lead them toward another exit from the waiting room.

“Eugh- I won’t let you pass through here!” Epel shouts after a sound of pain. Before I can stop her, Vera barrels back into the previous room and punches the creepy stranger back through the doorway.

“No one hurts my friends,” Even she must not have known what came over her, but hearing her idol cry out in pain led her to punch the intruder with a force even she didn’t know she had. They fly through the doorway and crash through the door across the hallways.

“Agh- My sweet- why do you pain me so? I came all this way for you.” The stranger pleads. I feel useless as I watch Vil, Epel, and Vera.

“She wants nothing to do with you. Get that through your head or you won’t be left with just a few burns and scars.” Vil states with a venomous smile spreading over his lips.

“How did they get here? I don’t think they should have been able to. Is there anyone who would want to hurt Vera maybe? … Could it be Rachel again? Is she trying to destroy what I have left so I fall back into her arms?” I mumble to myself before hearing another crash. Vil had thrown the stranger through another door.

“That’s going to be a pain to replace.” Crowley comments walking towards the stranger, “Sorry, but who are you? And why are you bothering us on such an important day?” He adds with a certain detached annoyance like he was talking to a bug. It was then that I managed to walk back toward everyone to see what was happening.

“I’m just here to see my dearly beloved!” The intruder insists.

“That creep has nothing to do with my sister. But he thinks he is.” I state walking over, my heart beating loudly in my chest, “I was trying to be nice earlier.” I add with a practiced smile.

“How is taking my sweet Ice rose away from me a kindness? You just wanted her for yourself.” As they argue I catch a glance at their eyes, they’re cloudy. I stare at them for a moment before something clicks.

“You drank it,” I mutter.

“It’s a miracle thing, isn’t it? Oh, I was so close to holding my love. If you weren’t here- if I get rid of you-” The stranger realizes, rising despite their disfigured form.

“I don’t think so.” Crowley states bonking the stranger on the head with his hand knocking the fool out cold, “Now, I trust you’ll explain what you meant by ‘you drank it?’” Crowley asks motioning for some personnel to get rid of the creep.

“No, you mean they drank that?” Vera cuts in, “It’s- it’s a monstrous potion. It relieves you of all worldly pain, but you lose your ability to perceive right and wrong, as it eats away at you you start to decay and you’re susceptible to others' intentions. If they really drank that- then that means Rachel is involved.” She explains, rushing over as I lose my balance.

“This Rachel is going to be a much larger problem than I initially assumed.” Crewel comments, supporting me from behind as well, “But that doesn’t explain how that mangy mutt got in here in the first place.”

“If the only benefit of that potion was the elimination of pain it wouldn’t be as tempting. If you know which one it is you can probably piece together what happened. But one of the things the potion does is amplify your magic until you overblot. You either decay or overblot, and neither is a pleasant end.” I explain further, scratching at my arms as the ickiness settles into my skin.

“Why exactly do you know all of this?” Trein asks, walking over with a tap of his cane announcing his presence.

“… That’s how my best friend died,” I whisper with a small, pained, laugh.

“I’m sorry for your loss Ren. It is never easy to lose someone. I am too old now to guarantee your safety under my watch. But I will support you the best I can in other ways.” Trein states, looking between Vera and me.

“Hm, well given the dire circumstances I think I could keep an eye on them. Besides, it would be like adopting wor- children.” Crowley states, absolutely about to say workers instead of children before he corrected himself.

“There’s no need for that Crowley, I’m already taking care of their housing, so I’ll be the one to settle them into a safer space if need be,” Crewel states in turn.

“Hahahaha,” Vera starts laughing.

“I hardly think this is the time to be laughing child,” Crowley states.

“I know, I’m sorry, it’s just- you all barely know us but you’ve already accepted us more than our family ever did. It’s just kind of funny you know? Maybe I’m tired.” Vera states laughing a bit more while tearing up. She sniffles and tries to calm down her tears but Epel hugs her.

“There there.” He states, patting their back.

Crewel notices before I do that I’m crying too. He wipes away my tears with a handkerchief and sighs.

“You always seem to get hurt when something happens.” He says, placing a hand lightly on my injured shoulder causing me to flinch, “Let’s get you patched up, we’ll discuss what to do about your safety after that at least.” He adds.

Vil looks at Crewel as though he’d grown a second head.

“You’re not going to pick me up again are you?” I ask with a sniffle before turning my head to look up at Crewel. He smiles a bit.

“That depends, can you walk this time?” He asks though the answer was quickly found to be no, “Hm, well I’m afraid you’re going to have to sit still and be carried this time as well little pup.” He muses. I sigh and just let him carry me. Crowley joins Vil in his baffled stare at Crewel.

“What- is happening,” Vil asks furrowing his brows and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Dad instincts,” Vera mumbles through sniffles.

“I suppose he does have a habit of adopting promising children, or ‘pups’ as he calls you.” Trein muses, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

“Hah, this really is going to be quite expensive. You’ll need to deal with that Rachel person sooner rather than later.” Crowley comments before he takes his leave.

“Unfortunately I can’t stay for too much longer either. However, Vil, you have my number. I ask that you update me on the situation when you can.” Trein states leaving as well.

“I’m sorry, your jacket is soaked with tears,” Vera says seeing Epel’s now wet jacket.

“It’s fine. I don’t get the whole unsupportive family bit, but I’m all too familiar with being in an unexpected fight with someone you don’t know. NRC isn’t exactly full of friendly faces. ‘Sides, you were really something. I didn’t expect ya ta smack the bastard in gob like that.” Epel states, slipping into an unfamiliar accent. Usually, he sounds like a well-read nobleman.

“I just heard you get hurt and my body was already moving on its own. I can’t take too much credit for that. I’m not nearly as brave as it seems.” Vera explains quickly.

“Not many have such noble intentions. Well, I suppose you won’t be a burden despite the issues that seem to surround your sibling. Though my opinion is subject to change should you prove to be loutish.” Vil comments.

– “Ow- I didn’t think I’d dislocated it, it just felt numb at first,” I grumble, rubbing the arm where healing magic was applied.

“In an ideal world, you’d have time to rest, but for the moment we should discuss safety. Previously you would not be living with anyone but your sibling. Given the circumstances would you be more comfortable living in my house? Given my status, I have trained guards to deal with intruders like that person.”

“It would probably be safer to stay somewhere that secure. It’ll be a pain, yes, but I’m not going to deny any greater level of protection. Though I have my reservations about hired guards at this point.”

“That’s understandable. I can assure you, however, that my hired personnel will be much more reliable. Crowley and the owner of the organization that hosted the Frenzy prefer cost effectiveness to function.” Crewel grumbles.

“Da- Crewel! You shouldn’t say that in the building, slander the man later.”

“Pfft, but you don’t disagree.”

“Of course not, I’ve seen what happened- dude I was there. I mean last time was like two minutes ago. Eugh, I’m so tired now too.”

“You should get some rest here then. Would you prefer I stay here, or leave?”

“Thanks for that, do what you think is best.” I didn’t want to make him stay when there was going to be a lot of aftermath to sort out, and it was very unlikely that something would happen immediately after the last incident. Rachel doesn’t work like that, she eats away at you slowly until you give in to her.

Crewel ended up staying in the room, at least until I fell asleep.

– “Oh Ren, did you enjoy our game of hide and seek? I had so much fun finding you.” ‘No, I recognize that voice.’ “You were so difficult to get a hold of. Were you that confused my dear? It’s okay, I can help you now. Just trust in me.” ‘No. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be with her here.’ “Come closer, little Ren. I’ll make sure you’re safe in my arms.” Rachel’s arms wrap around me and begin to constrict me, suffocating me. It feels like all of the air is being pushed out of my lungs as the cold arms continue to snake around me and hold me closer. “My adorable dear.”

–

TL;DR: Ren meets Crewel on a train after accidentally entering the wrong car and Crewel notices their distinct lack of fashion. From there Ren participates in a Speed Fashion contest with an unreasonable time limit and manages to prove their worth. Given this, Crewel takes in both Ren and their sister Vera to contribute to his team starring Vil and Epel. In the midst of this an old 'friend' from Ren's past resurfaces as an adversary.

#twisted wonderland #writing #fanfiction #divus crewel #twst crewel #We love the trope where someone just decides “You see this gremlin? This is my child now” #first post #It feels like I'm committing a crime. #I'm so sorry for this #Look #I know It's long #But It's fine #I'm totally mentally healthy #And not at all trying to escape reality #You should drink water #Also hi #Do you like it? #self indulgent