#good afternoon my head feels like it’s gonna fuckin explode

[garden-boards]

// pink natsuki icons for me

#mod harebell<3 #now we’re boppin ; request complete #pink #icons #doki doki literature club #natuski ddlc #good afternoon my head feels like it’s gonna fuckin explode #eyestrain #kind of? #just in case though

[toxophilitis]

The Preacher’s Hot Family

CHAPTER TEN

Returning home earlier than expected that afternoon, Valarie was completely stunned to find her husband and daughter writhing around on the bed. The blonde was spread out lewdly on her back while her dad was fucking his big cock in and out between her legs.

Valarie couldn't believe what she was seeing. It didn't seem possible that her extremely religious husband who rarely showed any interest in sex could be committing incest with his own daughter. Unable to believe that her husband could be so depraved, she just stared. The trembling woman knew she should stop them... but there was something so erotic about the scene that she could only stand there and watch them fuck.

"Oh, Daddy," she heard their daughter moan. "God, how I love your big hard cock!"

Watching them fuck, Valarie couldn't understand how her husband could have become so depraved that he would fuck his own teen. From the way Tammy's cunt was stretched, Valarie also couldn't understand why the child wasn't screaming in agony.

"Oh, Daddy," Valarie heard the girl whimper with joy as her dad fucked his prick deeper and harder into her pussy. "It feels so fuckin' good! Oooooooooh! I love it... love it!"

Valarie was getting hornier by the second. There wasn't anything that she enjoyed more than a hard cock, and right now the woman was dying to feel a cock fucking deep in her own hot cunt. Deciding to join her husband and daughter on the bed, Valarie quickly removed her clothes. Naked, she hurried across the room, a rivulet of pussy juice dripping from between her legs.

Throwing herself down on the bed with them, Valarie gave her husband's ass a loving smack with her hand.

"Valarie!" gasped the startled preacher. "Mom!" gulped Tammy as her dad pulled his cock out.

"I didn't mean to interrupt anything," Valarie said in a sugary-sweet voice.

"How long has this been going on?" her mother asked.

"Just since yesterday."

"Do you like it?"

"God, yes," said the girl. "Being fucked is the neatest thing in the whole world."

"Well, I guess it's all right then," smiled her mother. "As long as he gives me my share."

Smiling at her husband, Valarie looked down at his thick hard prick, which was completely saturated with their daughter's cunt juice.

"May I taste it?" she whispered. "Help yourself," grinned the man as Valarie lowered her face and stuffed the head of his thick prick into her mouth. His entire body was trembling with excitement when she began running her moist warm tongue all around his slimy prick.

"Shit," grinned Valarie, removing her mouth from his prick. "Her fuckin' cunt juice tastes pretty good."

"Daddy likes it, too," giggled Tammy. "He licks my pussy until I come."

"That's nice," Valarie grinned at her husband. "Maybe I'll try tongue-fucking the teen sometime, myself."

"Really, Mom?" Tammy excitedly panted. "I'd like that."

"Honey," Valarie said, turning to her husband as she lovingly wrapped her fingers around his thick boner, "if Tammy will excuse you, I'd sure like to be fucked by this big hard beauty."

"It's okay with me, Daddy," the girl giggled. "Give her a nice hot fuck like you gave me. I wanta watch."

Still unable to comprehend her husband's depraved lust for their daughter, Valarie lewdly opened her thighs and eased the fat knob of his prick up against the juicy opening of her cunt.

"Come on, honey," she hotly panted. "Show me what kind of a stud you really are."

Flexing his hips, the preacher fucked his lust-swollen cock into the moist slickness of his wife's hotly clinging pussy.

"Mmmmmmmmm!" she moaned with rapture. "That's the way to fuck a cunt! This teen must have really started your motor working."

"Gee, Mom," Tammy excitedly panted, her eyes only inches away from her mother's prick-filled cunt. "You've sure got a lot of cock in your pussy."

"I know darling," she said. "And I love every fuckin' inch of it."

Taking her husband's face between her hands, Valarie pulled his mouth down against her softly parted lips. Trembling with desire, the beautiful woman snaked her tongue deep into his mouth as his cock throbbed hotly in her clasping cunt.

"Oh, God, darling," she whispered when their lips finally parted. "I want you to just fuck me silly."

Still completely dazed by her husband's behavior, Valarie felt him slowly pull his ass back, and then with a wild fuck-thrust, he slammed the length of his boner into the depths of her slippery fuck-hole.

"That's the way to do it!" she shrieked. "Fuck it to me, baby! Just fuck my tail off!"

The preacher realized his wife was dying for a wild fuck, and that was just what he intended to give her. Slamming his fucker into his wife's pussy with all his strength, he was using long hard fuck-strokes, fucking his massive cock into her cunt for all he was worth, increasing the depth and tempo of his hard fuck-thrusts with every stroke, he knew it wouldn't be long before his beautiful redheaded wife would reach a wild climax.

Valarie's hair was flailing all around her lovely face, her hips countering every fuck thrust as she passionately fucked back at him.

"Oh, sweet darling!" she screamed. "Pour the cockmeat to me, honey! Fuck it to me! Fuck me good!"

Watching her dad and mother fucking, Tammy was caressing his humping ass with one hand while she fondled his big hairy balls with the fingers of the other.

"Oh, my God!" he panted, feeling his daughter's fingers teasing his balls as he fucked her mother.

The more the horny girl probed her fingers around the sensitive ring of his asshole, the harder and deeper he fucked his throbbing prick into the hot moistness of Valarie's slippery cunt.

Fucking into his wife with all his strength as Tammy goaded him on by goosing around the hairy crack of his ass, he was suddenly aware that Valarie was rapidly approaching an orgasm.

"Oh, sweetheart!" she sobbed, wrapping her shapely legs around his humping body.

"I'm gonna come!"

Her entire body began jerking and convulsing as she exploded into a wild climax. Screaming with ecstasy, the beautiful redhead clung desperately to her husband as she writhed her hot cunt up around his plunging cock.

"Ooooooooooh... I'm coming!" she screamed, gasping for breath when she suddenly felt his hot jizz gushing into her pussy.

Her nostrils flared and her glazed eyes rolled crazily back in her head as her husband continued shooting his hot cum into her pussy, prolonging the intense climax as wave after wave of orgasmic ecstasy flooded through her body. It wasn't until he'd emptied the last drop of cum into her cunt that he finally pulled his thick prick out of her fuck-hole.

The moment his cock was out, Valarie scooted down and stuffed his dripping cockhead into her mouth. Sucking feverishly on his shrinking boner, she slowly brought it back to life. Within a few minutes, he had another hard-on.

"It's my turn!" Tammy cried out, seeing his cock swelling in her mother's mouth.

"Then take it," giggled her mother, releasing his prick from her mouth.

Not wasting any time, Tammy covered his cockshaft with her baby-soft lips and sucked deep and hard on his thickening cockmeat.

"Oh, Daddy!" she finally cried excitedly. "You're all nice and hard again."

"I know," he grinned. "Now what do you want me to do with it?"

"Empty your cock in my horny cunt," she said, rolling onto her back and lewdly spreading her legs for him.

Thrilled at the thought of fucking his adorable daughter again, the man moved up between her thighs. Cradling her dad between her legs, Tammy reached down and excitedly grasped the thick root of his prick, guiding his big pulsing cock-knob between the slippery lips of her pussy.

"Oh, Daddy," she whispered to him. "I just love it when you fuck me with your nice big cock."

He could see the wild lust in her eyes, and knew the horny girl was going to give him a fuck he would never forget. Wanting to please his beautiful child as much as he knew she was going to please him, he slammed the hard length of his cock all the way into her cunt with one tremendous fuck-thrust.

"Ooooooooooh, yes!" she squealed with delight, feeling his prick spreading her cunt flesh and completely filling her tight pussy. "Fuck me hard, like, you fucked Mom!"

Wanting to give the darling girl something to remember, he began fucking his hard cock into her with long fast strokes. Half crazed by the feel of her father's prick fucking into her, Tammy was rhythmically slamming her loins up to meet every wonderful fuck thrust. Fucking his hot daughter for all he was worth, the man could feel his cock swelling even thicker in the child's fuck-hole.

Watching excitedly as she sat on the edge of the bed with her husband's cum oozing from her cunt, Valarie was amazed at how hard and deep he was pounding his thick fucker into the horny girl's pussy. But from the look of ecstasy on Tammy's face, there was no doubt that she was thoroughly enjoying the brutal fucking her dad was giving her. Watching his thick cock goring their daughter's tight cunt slit, Valarie could see that the girl was having the time of her life. Her eyes were drawn to Tammy's asshole. Staring at the child's ass, Valarie suddenly remembered how fantastic it had felt when men had fucked their fingers up her ass.

As her father increased the tempo of his fuck-thrusts, the wild ecstasy built up in Tammy's loins.

"Fuck me harder!" she squealed. "Make me come!"

Unable to control the wild urges she was having, Valarie reached down between her legs and scooped up a handful of cunt juice and cum which she generously spread around the crack of her daughter's ass.

"What are you doing?" panted Tammy, feeling her mother's finger probing around her sensitive asshole.

"Never mind," her mother excitedly whispered. "Just keep fucking."

As the preacher continued lustily fucking his prick into his daughter's hot cunt, Valarie was trying to force the tip of her finger through the juice-smeared opening of Tammy's asshole.

"Eeeeeeek!" shrieked the girl when her mother's finger suddenly plopped through to the first knuckle. "What are you doing, Mom?"

"Having two holes filled is better than one," her mother giggled. "So keep fuckin' and enjoy yourself."

It wasn't until he heard the girl squeal that the man realized Valarie was fingerfucking Tammy's tingling asshole. From the torrid way Tammy was suddenly fucking back at him, he could tell how much her mother's finger had aroused the horny girl.

"Oh, sweet fuckin' Jesus!" Tammy squealed when her mother rammed the full length of her long middle finger all the way up into the hot squeezing tightness of her buttery asshole.

The preacher was so enthralled with the joys of his daughter's pussy that he'd lost all sense of reality.

Without any warning, the girl's wild orgasm suddenly exploded throughout her entire body as her spasming cunt began convulsing wildly around his fucking prick.

"Daddy!" shrieked the ecstatic girl. "I'm coming, Daddy! Oh, sweet fuckin' shit, how I'm coming!"

Suddenly the man's big muscular body stiffened and she could feel his hot jizz spurting into her cunt. Thick jolts of cum splattered hotly against the sensitive walls of her fuck-hole. Still frantically pumping back and forth, the man continued shooting his hot cum into his daughter's quivering pussy. It was only when the last drop of jism had dribbled out of his shrinking prick that they collapsed on each other's arms.

"My God," giggled Valarie, pulling her finger out of Tammy's shitter. "You sure gave this teen a hell of a wild fuck that time."

Seeing her husband's thick cum oozing from between their daughter's cuntlips when he finally pulled his limp cock out, Valarie suddenly had a wild desire to lap up his tasty cum. Grasping the girl's hips, the horny woman began running her tongue around Tammy's cuntlips, hungrily licking up her husband's frothy jism. When Valarie had cleaned every drop of cock cream from her daughter's pussy, she fucked her tongue into Tammy's pussy, searching for more of the tasty jism.

"Oh, Mom!" squealed, the girl, throwing her knees up over her mother's shoulders. Planting her bare feet near the base of the woman's spine, the girl squeezed her soft thighs against her mother's face.

"Mmmmmmmmmm," purred Valarie into Tammy's open cunt. "You taste so good, honey. God, your pussy tastes good!"

Valarie's tongue was lashing hungrily around in her daughter's juicy cunt slit, licking up the delicious cum that was oozing out of her slippery cuntal flesh. Now, for the first time, she realized the pleasure that men received when they sucked and licked her pussy. Remembering how much pleasure men gave her with their mouths, Valarie began licking feverishly on her daughter's clit.

Rolling onto her daughter's naked body, Valarie threw her arms around the girl as their open mouths met in a deep passionate kiss. With their slippery tongues gliding in and out of each other's mouth, they began grinding their hot moist pussies together. Their erect clits were being wildly stimulated by the feel of hot cunt rubbing against hot cunt.

"Oh, Jesus!" Tammy gasped into her mother's mouth as her hard nipples pressed against her mom's bare tits. "God, your body feels so fuckin' good!"

Moving her body up and down over Tammy's, Valarie was almost out of her mind from the feel of bare tits squishing against bare tits. She hadn't realized how nice a girl's soft warm body could feel.

"Tammy," her mother whispered, "would you like to lick my pussy while I'm sucking your pussy?"

"Oh, yes!" panted the girl. "I'd love to eat your cunt."

Turning around in the sixty-nine position, Valarie pressed her slippery crotch down over Tammy's upturned face, and then leaned forward until her own mouth covered her daughter's cunt mound again.

Looking up at her mother's open cunt poised just above her mouth, Tammy was looking into a pussy for the first time in her life. The pink juicy lips of her mom's cunt slit looked like the open petals of a flower, droplets of cunt juice glistening there like morning dew. She could see her mom's red pubic hairs swirling delicately around the pinkness of her sweet pussy. The most exciting thing was the aroma of the woman's pussy. Grasping the cheeks of her mother's smooth round ass, she pulled the woman's dripping cunt down against her eager mouth. Tammy slipped her tongue up into the hot wetness of her mom's slippery fuck-hole.

"Oh, God," she heard her mom shudder with delight at the feel of a tongue fucking into her pussy. "That's it, honey! Give Mother a good tongue-fuck!"

The girl was thrilled with the pleasure they were giving each other. With her tongue darting deliciously around in her mother's fuck-hole, she could feel the woman nibbling wildly on her clit.

"Oooooooooh, sweet Mother," Tammy moaned, spreading her thighs wider apart to give the cunt-sucking woman more room. "I love it! God, how I love it!"

Tammy's excited pussy seemed to open wider and wider as her mother sucked and tonguefucked her closer and closer to climax.

"Oh, shit!" she shrieked when her mom's lips began sucking more vigorously on her swollen clit. "It feels so fuckin' neat!"

Almost out of her mind with the wild sensations exploding in her loins, Tammy jammed her tongue deeper and deeper into her mother's hot fuck-hole. On and on they sucked in sexual ecstasy, their lewd sixty-nine position offering them easy access to each other's creaming cunt.

"Ooooohhhhh!" Tammy squealed into her mother's pussy. "Here I come! Oh, shit, I'm coming! Coming!"

Valarie began sucking frantically as she felt her daughter's climaxing pussy convulsing around her deeply buried tongue.

"Ooooooh, Mom!" she shrieked. "It's so good! Oh, Christ, it's so fucking good!"

When their shattering orgasms had subsided, mother and daughter untangled themselves.

"Wow!" giggled Tammy, pointing at her father's brand new hard-on. "He's got another hard-on."

"Good," her mother smiled. "I get his cock this time."

As she watched her father crawl on top of her mother, Tammy knew that there would be a lot more hot fucking around this house and that church would be a lot more interesting in the future.

THE END

[fandomfluffandfuck]

Hiiiii I just want to say I’ve been reading your evanstan a/b/o verse stuff and do you think you could give us a lil more headcanons?? I prefer Omega Seb but you could do whichever pairing you want I just love a/b/o smmmmm

P.S I love your writing I look forward to it like every time you post smthn :))))❤️💗💞❤️

That I can do!

It always seems like I'm not writing enough A/B/O lol, but I totally feel you A/B/O is so good. It hits some spot in me that nothing else really does.

(Hopefully you've already seen this, but if not enjoy it too: Assorted Omega Seb HCs)

Thank you for the request <3 <3 <3

In the days before Sebastian goes into heat are when he's is most likely to be found in an oversized, overworn hoodie that's softer than it has any right to be. Hiding his hands and exposing his collar bones because he's starting to get that heat flush, so there's no need for an actual shirt too.

(Chris notices this and goes back home quickly to find some of his old, old sweatshirts that are worn enough to nearly be falling apart at the seams. He puts them in Sebastian's side of the closet without saying anything. He hears Sebastian find them because he says, "wha-" to himself and assumedly unfolds one, realizes what it is before half sighing and half purring. When he returns he's wearing one of them. Not drowning in it. Just comfortable.)

Seb has a praise kink that is potent all on its own. We know. His blush says it all. So. Imagine how potent it would be when he's in heat. Like, Chris tells him he's pretty or good for him when he's in heat and Sebastian makes the Highest little whimper, shaking from head to toe as the compliment shudders through him, turning his insides to goo. It gets him so wet, hearing Chris' voice dip into something of a growling purr, a deep rumble that lives deep in his chest and gets deep into him. Usually compliments and praise just disarms him, making him melt, slick leaking out of him. But...

There's times also where Chris will compliment his omega - whether it's something as simple as telling him he looks nice (which he does every day) or something as loud and proud as "God, 'mega, you suck my cock so fuckin' good, 'm gonna cum so fast cause a' that pretty mouth." - and if he's still coherent enough to speak Sebastian'll complain about Chris making him burn from the outside in. His cheeks flushing and his heat fever raging. He doesn't need to be hot enough that he's dripping with sweat and slick. Chris never backs off though, he knows Sebastian isn't serious and he also has his own instincts, rumbling through his hindbrain saying, yes, yes, pretty omega. Pretty omega blushing. He's healthy enough to blush.

Omega Sebastian always makes these sweet little noises. Little chirps and sunny hums and almost relaxed drowsy sounding noises like he's waking up or going to sleep but just all the time. Lying in a sunbeam in the afternoon. After Chris hugs him. As he grabs his hand to hold. When they're cuddling before bed. From under a newly purchased extra warm blanket... all the time. Chris doesn't know how he missed the noises if Sebastian always did that, always made them. Eventually though the alpha realizes Sebastian didn't always do that. He just does it when he's comfortable and happy- when he's around him. Chris knows omegas purr when they're happy and Seb does purr. He just didn't realize all those noises were happy noises in addition to his purring. They make Chris' heart squeeze and explode with affection. His omega is pleased and comfy and happy more often than not it seems like.

Sebastian's instincts know that Chris is The Best Alpha- The Best Alpha For Him and as a result when he scents his alpha going into rut there's something in him that just flips. He flips into breathing and living to make sure he's good and ready for Chris. His alpha. So much so that Seb goes out and buys this really, really expensive custom fragrance oil that's made to smell like his aroused scent pretty early on in their relationship. The fragrance oil isn't as good as his natural heat slick scent, of course, but it's damn close. Whenever jetlag fucks with them and un-syncs their cycles, or just when Sebastian's heat is coming a little while later than they're expecting Chris' rut to happen, or even if Seb just feels like getting fucking wrecked as Chris' rut instincts flood his brain, making him grab, thrust, and bite harder than normal, Sebastian will get out this oil. And, sure, he could just use it like cologne and rub it into his skin but where's the fun in that?

No, that's not as fun.

Instead Sebastian puts some of it in the bath as it's filling, knowing that the steam from the hot water will waft the carefully crafted scent of his bottled arousal and slick scent in addition to his own while he wants for his alpha to figure out what's going on. It never fails to make Chris vibrate in place upon stumbling into the bathroom, hands clenched around the door frame, more or less drooling as he imagines fucking him in the tub until they spill water all over the floor over the sides of the tub.

(The first time Sebastian does that he's honestly trying to put the oil on his washcloth to rub it into his skin when he spills it into the bath. It brings Chris to him. Walking in with his eyes dark and his cock straining against his jeans. Both of which he's trying to hide, trying to not look at him like he's a peace of meat). But Chris - the stubborn, sweet alpha that he is - offers to help him wash rather than fuck him silly. However with his mind clouded with arousal, Chris doesn't climb into the tub with him like he might normally. He doesn't strip. He falls to his knees next to the tub and lifts Sebastian's leg out of the water like he's something golden and fragile and precious and washes his feet and calves more thoroughly than ever would be necessary. Sebastian is shocked enough that he just lets it happen, feeling like he's put his alpha under a spell. Or. He lets it happen until Chris mouths and then bites at his ankle, going up to his knee as he massages his foot, at which point he's so turned on that he just whimpers, "alpha- alpha, get me out. Gemme out- I, Jesus, I. You-you've gotta help me out so you can fuck me, knot me. Please!")

If you put Seb on top during late in his heat he'll whine and cry for Chris to fuck him because his muscles literally turns to jelly and he can't make himself bounce on his knot by himself even though he'd give anything to feel it. Instead he just cries like it's torture, whimpering and whining, begging, "fuck me, fuck meee, need it. Need you. You gotta, gotta fuck me, I need it, want it, wanna-" until Chris gives him what he wants. How couldn't he when he's such a pretty hot mess. Wet, gaped, and swollen lips. Flushed, sweat damp, hot skin. Tightly shut eyes. Limp neck muscles that keeps arching back and presenting Chris with the vulnerable curve, practically begging to be bitten. High, feminine sounds that only get higher and higher the more pleasure he gets... God. His omega is a wet dream.

#asks #A/B/O #alpha chris #omega seb #sebastian stan #chris evans #real person fanfiction #rpf #my writing

[thiswasinevitableid]

54. I’m not sure what you think I said, but you start calling me an asshole and whip a ruler at me and somehow, we both end up in detention

Indruck, sfw, please?

Here you go! Content note: spiders appear at one point.

I based some of this AU--namely the concept of the Crucible and how magic is channeled--on the Carry On series by Rainbow Rowell. And Duck is trans in this, because any good wizarding school is inclusive.

After three years at Amnesty Academy, Duck is used to the objects being magically propelled through the air. But a ruler zipping through the air and smacking the back of his head is a new, unpleasant experience.

He tracks it to two chairs to his left, the new third year with the silver hair. He hasn’t even been here a day, what the fuck the is his problem?

“Hey, what the hell man?”

“You know very well what.”

“Uh, no I don’t, and I don’t appreciate bein hit with a fuckin ruler!”

“The maybe think before you insult someone next time!”

“I didn’t fuckin insult you! I don’t even know your name!”

“Ahem.” Ned, their Charms professor, looks down at them reproachfully, “gentlemen, while I know the review of Zone of Truth is rather dull, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t entertain yourselves with mindless conflict.”

“Sorry, Ned.” Duck mumbles, sending his pencil shooting below desk level to whack the other guy in the leg at the exact same moment he whips his pen at Duck’s hand.

“OW!”

Ned sighs, “I hate to do this, but-”

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

“Detention! Lovely, my first day here and I’m in trouble. Thank you so much, Duck Newton, for landing us here.”

“You started it!” He growls as they take their seats. God, he hopes this isn’t one of Woodbridge’s days.

“Huh, only two.” Mama wipes her boots on the mat, closes the door behind her, “Afternoon, Duck. And…”

“Indrid.” Says his nemesis, “It is nice to meet you Professor C-” he cocks his head, “you really prefer I call you ‘Mama?’”

“Yep. Never could get behind that more formal stuff. Let some of the first years call me ‘Ms. Mama’ if they really need to feel like they’re showin some deference.”

Mama is deputy Headmistress of Amnesty. The only reason she’s not fully in charge is that she’s not a witch and some families object to that. So The Quell technically runs the school while Mama does most of the actual day to day work. She also teaches a course of non-magic practical skills because, “some things you can’t magic your way out of. Like taxes.”

Duck loves her class and, while he doesn’t understand why someone would opt into this weirdness, he admires the guts it takes as a fifteen year old human to walk into a wizarding school and declare that there was plenty you could learn there even though you couldn’t so much as send a spark from your fingers.

As he and Indrid watch the clock tick down, Mama pulls a bag from her satchel. The contents are cookies, which she offers to each of them.

“Barclay tryin’ out new recipes?”

“Course he is. Kid is gonna be the best damn kitchen witch in the country by the time he graduates. Guess he’s plannin to spend the summer drivin around and learnin the food magic of different regions.” She smiles, “bet you’ll never guess who’s goin’ with him.”

“Joe?”

“Bingo. Apparently he wants to study niche cultural magic.”

Duck’s pretty sure there’s another motive; sharing a van bed with Barclay. It sounds fun, roving the country, discovering new places with someone handsome by your side.

All that’s by his side is a glower hiding behind red glasses.

“Mama? I, ah, would it be possible for me to leave five minutes early? I’m supposed to get my pairing from the Crucible tonight.”

The older woman looks between the two of them, “Better tell me how you landed here first. Ned just said it was an argument.”

“He threw a ruler at me outta nowhere.”

“It was not, you know what you said.”

“The last thing I said before you hit me was ‘“nah, man’ when Billy offered me a pizza roll from his lunch.”

Indrid goes still, “Oh. I, ah, I misheard you. I thought you said 'mothman.' I apologize. I ought to have given you the benefit of the doubt.”

He seems so suddenly downtrodden that Duck shrugs, “Yeah, you should have. But it ain’t the worst thing that’s happened to me here. Not by a long shot.”

“No kiddin” Mama leans back on the desk, “Two of you can go at five til.”

His evening turns uneventful after that; dinner, hanging out with Juno and Aubrey, half doing homework and half fucking around on his phone in his room (the agreement between the school and the government is that a long as the students don’t post vidoes of themselves doing sick stunts with magic, the government will ignore any explosions and/monsters in the vicinity of the school).

He’s never had a roommate; when the Crucible spat out his name in fire on his first day, there was no other name with it. Almost everyone else rooms in pairs or trios. So his belongings are strewn about the tiny cabin that makes up his home away from home. Which is why, when the door creaks open at ten p.m, he sits up and prepares to fire off a spell.

Indrid stands in the doorway, one bag over his shoulder and another in his hand. He looks tired.

“Hello, Duck. Ah, I guess that one is my bed, then.”

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

The class schedules for Amnesty are generated by the heart of the school itself. Indrid isn’t entirely sure what that means, but the heart must not be terribly creative. It stuck him in divination class. He’s been seeing the future since he was five, managing it with his drawings since he was eight. Even the professor has no idea what to do with him, since the images come in like a garbled T.V signal when he uses a crystal ball and the cup shattered when he tried to read tea leaves.

At least Barclay gave him a conciliatory caramel while they swept up the shards. It made him feel a bit better, though whether that’s due to enchantment or Barclay being exceedingly good at cooking is hard to say.

And now he has to go to “Magical Weaponry.” Magical Defense he understands; there are still lots of malicious forces out there, or even just everyday evils that it’s good to be able to ward against. Plus, Vincent is a good professor, enthusiastic and understanding.

Professor Minerva is just as enthusiastic but twice as loud. This is their first day in the actual gym, as opposed to at a blackboard, and his visions suggest it’s going to go poorly for him. As it should; he’s not a fighter, he’s a disaster.

At Amnesty, magic is channeled through objects. Most people use wands or their hands but some, like Aubrey, use jewelry (a necklace from her mother) or another accessory.

Duck Newton uses a sword. Or he’s trying to. The sword seems to be winning.

“Exert your will on him, Duck Newton, he answers to you!”

“I answeeer to only the capable.”

“Shut up, Beacon.” Duck adjusts his grasp, but nothing happens until he drops the sword and sends a spell through his fingers. The target explodes. Indrid suddenly feels a bit better about his own probable performance.

Duck notices him, indicates the practice area next to him is clear. While they started off poorly, his roommate is doing his best to demonstrate southern hospitality. He invites Indrid to eat with him, helps him when his visions offer no help in navigating the grounds, and even lent him a blue and green shirt (Amnesty's colors) for his first Spirit Day. Duck is the best thing to happen to him in his first month here.

By the time class is over, they have six broken targets, a shredded mat, and a knife that is now a very confused frog between them. They manage to laugh about it, even as Duck scoops up the amphibian and tucks him into his shirt pocket.

It’s then that Indrid realizes he has a crush.

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

“You comin to the game tonight?” Juno measures her sapling.

“Assumin nothin comes up and nobody’s tryin to kill me, you know I’ll be there.” He loves cheering Juno on during her soccer games (hey, not everything has to be magic based, even at a wizarding school).

“Drat.”

The hissed frustration draws his attention to the far end of the work table. Indrid is trying to coax his Venus Flytraps to perk up, but they remain brown and limp.

“Need some help?”

“Please, as you clearly know what you’re doing.” Indrid tilts his head towards the sapling pine tree Duck is working on. If he does his growing spells right, he’ll be able to take it home as a Christmas Tree during winter break.

“You tend to picture words or, uh,pictures when you do your spells?”

“Images work best. The trouble is that the futures sometimes make it difficult for me to picture a spell clearly.”

“What if I try describing how I’d see it and you picture what I say?”

“It’s worth a try.” Indrid closes his eyes.

“Okay. Think about the roots drawin water up from the soil, about the traps absorbin nutrients from prey. That brown is goin green as they do, they’re stems are growin stronger…” he grins as the plant turns bright green, it’s mouths open, “hey, ‘Drid, look”

“Oh!” Indrid flaps his hands, “it worked! Now I can keep them healthy and big andohno, nono not again.”

The table cracks and collapses as the plant turns gigantic, blocking out the light from the greenhouse roof.

“Holy fuck, that’s great!”

“Language, sport, but I agree.” Thacker, the head of the magical Horticulture classes, whistles as he looks the plant up and down, “this is mighty impressive Indrid. Wonder if we could use it on some pumpkins come fall…”

“I don’t recommend it, unless you want them to chase people.” Indrid points to one of the heads, which is swaying in the air and lowering closer to him. It snaps and he leaps back, falling to a pile of potting soil. Thacker raises his walking stick and the flytrap returns to its proper size.

Duck helps Indrid up, but his friend stays quiet through the end of class and on the walk back to their room.

“You know it ain’t anythin to be ashamed of, right?” Duck flips on the light, “we all fuck up spells now and then. Hell, Aubrey is on track to be the best spellcaster this school’s ever seen and she still has trouble.”

“But mine go haywire constantly” Indrid flops, dejected, onto his bed, “forget mastering my powers, I’ll be lucky if I graduate able to keep them in check. If I graduate at all.” His hand searches the bed blindly; Duck sets the weighted, plush bat into so Indrid can set it on his chest.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve never lasted more than a year at a magical school. Or a non-magical one. I started at Mt Vernon when I was fifteen. Tried Deep Hollow and Shasta the year after that. I’m powerful but I can’t seem to channel it well, and three different schools decided I was more trouble than I was worth.”

“Bullshit.” Duck rests a hand on Indrid’s knee, “you’re strugglin with somethin; that means you need more help, not less. And if anyone gets it into their heads to kick you outta Amnesty, I’ll raise a goddamn ruckus.”

Indrid chuckles, quiet and disbelieving.

“I’m serious. You know Aubrey and them would side with me, and Joe knows school policy well enough he could probably find a reason why them tryin to get rid of you was against the rule.”

“Thank you.” Indrid’s smile is a rare flower, fragile and stunning.

“You want one of those calm-down caramels Barclay made?”

“Please.”

Duck grabs the box from the cabinet of their little kitchenette, then snags a Coke and a pineapple soda from the fridge. Indrid is no longer horizontal, is instead sitting with his back to the wall so Duck has space to join him.

Under the fizz of fresh bubbles, his friend murmurs, ‘“Have people really tried to kill you?”

“Yep. Someone sent an assassin after me my first year, and there was a Dire wolf on the grounds last winter that was clearly locked on to my scent. Perk of bein a Chosen One.” He grumbles as he swigs his drink.

“...Who on earth sends an assassin after a fifteen year old?”

“Right?! Fuck if I know, they never got any information out of the guy. Fuckin prophecy I swear, I didn’t even want these powers, let alone to be some kind of hero.”

“I sympathize.” Indrid rests his head on Duck’s shoulder, “there are prophecies around my birth as well.”

Duck clunks their bottles together, “To bein’ fucked over by stuff we can’t control.”

Indrid drains his soda, then perks up, “Oh! Oh dear, you should go if you want to be there for Juno’s match.”

“Come with me?” Duck can’t get the image of the two of them sharing a giant pretzel while smushed thigh to thigh on the bleachers out of his head.

His friend grins, “Of course.”

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

Duck hoped, after his not-great time in middle school, that a magic academy would be asshole free. But no, there are assholes everywhere, and these ones have even more tools for tormenting their targets. He’s never been one, nor have any of his friends. The one time someone tried to bully Barclay, Dani sicked three spectral hummingbirds on them until they apologized.

Indrid, odd and new, is an easy target, though he seems to hold his own just fine (and his proximity to the most powerful witch in school does scare off many potential antagonists). But three guys in their Magical Defense class have zeroed in on him.

They’re standing in line to practice against an evil eye when Indrid’s glasses, the ones he doesn’t take off even when he sleeps, hit the floor by Duck’s feet. Duck scrambles to grab them before they get stepped on, wondering why everyone is making such a fuss. Then he turns and backs up in alarm.

An eight foot tall moth creature is where Indrid should be, red eyes wide and claws clicking together anxious.

“Who let that thing in here?” Someone yells from behind him.

Indrid’s antenna flatten.

“Fuck, wasn’t expecting him to be that big a freak” one of the bullies scoffs.

Black wings twitch.

“Newton, give him the glasses back so we don’t have to look at him!”

Indrid trills, upset, and leaps into the air at the same moment Aubrey yells, “that’s enough” and Vincent shouts a reminder about no flames in enclosed spaces and also detention for you three. Duck is to busy climbing out the window Indrid flew through to pick up the details.

One two-story fall later, he’s chasing a dark shape into the Monongahela forest. While the parts of the woods near his hometown of Kepler are non-enchanted, this chunk is magic down to the moss (he plans to write his final year project on how those halves of forest mesh on an ecological level). One of the worst aspects of the enchanted portions is their tendency to re-shape around travelers. His usual way around this is to have an unwavering sense of where he’s going and pretend the woods are giving him an unchanging path to get there. But that trick does fuck-all when he doesn’t know his destination.

After two hours of searching he’s no closer to finding Indrid, it’s getting dark, and he’s debating heading back to the school for help. He hasn’t been this deep in the woods since he fled the Dire Wolf, and he knows the deeper you go into the trees, the wilder the magic becomes. Bad news for him, even worse for his friend who's out there somewhere, upset and alone.

Eight gigantic eyes glitter at him from the dirt, and he quickly rearranges who has it worse right now.

Throwing a burst of light into the trapdoor spiders eyes buys him enough time to bolt to a tree and climb. As soon as it crawls free of its burrow he freezes; if he’s remembering right, they use vibrations to locate prey.

Fuck, that thing is the size of a VW Beatle. Why is that even a thing? No spider needs to be this big!

In spite of his stillness, it spies him and sets its forelimbs on the tree-trunk. There’s nothing else for it; he draws Beacon, pictures the spider shrinking, and casts his spell.

A soft crunch of leaves signals it hitting the ground, now an unremarkable size for an arachnid. Just as he steps down a branch, a second trap door opens and an enraged spider bursts out, looking for it’s friend. When it can’t find it, it turns and snaps its mandibles at Duck. This time, Beacon does nothing, no matter how Duck commands and curses as his eight-legged doom gets closer.

A crackle of electricity and then this spider disappears as well. On the other side of the trunk, red eyes regard him with worry, “are you hurt?”

“Nah, all in one piece thanks to you.” He holds out his hand, “you wanna head back?”

“Yes, please.” Indrid flaps to the ground, Duck following him on foot and then turning them towards campus, “you did not need to come look for me.”

“Course I did, not gonna let my friend get swallowed up by the forest. Oh, here” he holds out the red glasses, “you want these back?”

“Not just yet. That is, if this form is not too alarming to you.”

Duck takes in the glossy feathers, the charming ruff, the way the face is still obviously Indrid yet excitingly new, “I’m good.”

Light flickers from black claws, stars and flowers spinning out with ease, “It’s so much easier when I’m like this. I never foresaw my disguise charm being an issue, but the older I’ve gotten the more it seems to influence my ability to control my spells. But, well, you saw how people reacted. Even you were startled.”

“In my defense, I thought you’d been eaten by, well, you.” Duck casts the same spell, vines of light chasing the red flowers, “I’m still sorry, though. You ain’t horrible like this, ‘Drid; you’re fuckin stunnin. Never seen anyone as incredible as you.”

Indrid stops, looking down at him, “Do you truly mean that?”

Duck rises on his toes, pecking his cheek, “Yeah, I do.”

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

The Halloween Formal is the most elaborate event at Amnesty. Indrid feels that if there’s any day he’s within his rights to be in his true form, it’s when everyone else is dressed as monsters.

He doesn’t have a date. He thought Duck was in the same predicament. Then his friend left before he was half-done grooming his feathers, saying he needed to get flowers for his hot date.

Ah well. At least Indrid will get to see him there and spend some time with his friends.

He checks his reflection in the gleaming black walls, orange and purple lights glowing and jack’o lanterns floating above his head. He adjusts his robes, the nice red ones his father sent him, and prepares to enter the ballroom.

“Hold up.”

When he turns, Duck is standing there in his black dress shirt and green tie, looking for all the world like he’s alone.

“You got one more thing to put on” He holds out a bracelet of flowers, sized to slip perfectly over Indrid’s hand. There are matching flowers pinned to one side of Duck’s hair.

“Oh. Oh my. You really-”

Duck uses a small spell to bend Indrid into a kiss; it’s a bit messy, since their mouths aren’t meant to fit together, but Indrid would not trade it for all the magic in the world.

“Yeah, ‘Drid, I really do.” With that, Duck offers his elbow and they walk arm in arm into the great hall.

#indruck #indrid cold/ duck newton #meet ugly #wizard au

[trans-shuichisaihara]

fake it till (we) make it - Scene 3

it’s been over two years but here we go again

just in case, a warning for brief mentions of internalized homophobia

(read on ao3)

---

Later in the afternoon, his phone rings.

He slows on his treadmill and glances across the room to the offending device, wondering if he should answer. His manager called earlier and chewed him out, so he really isn't in the mood to deal with any more of that. Still, on the off chance that it's something important, he reluctantly hops off and crosses over to at least pick it up and check it.

He's glad he does; the caller ID shows his best friend’s name. Without any further hesitation, he answers the call, pinning his phone between his ear and his shoulder as he grabs a towel to mop up his sweat. “Hey, Shuichi! What’s up?”

There's a brief, shuddering silence from the other side. He waits patiently and is soon rewarded with a meek greeting of “hey, Kaito.” Then, there's an audible swallow. “I hope I'm not bothering you, but... Um, I tried texting, and, um, it didn't look like... Anyway, how, how are you..?”

He hardly pauses to think about Shuichi’s stuttering; that’s normal, after all. “I’m good, sorry I didn’t answer your texts; people’ve been blowing up my phone all day, so I kinda got fed up and just muted ‘em all.” The brief thought about Shuichi’s own reason for calling crosses his mind, but he quickly sets it to the side.

“I, I see.” There’s a long pause. “What, what are they bothering you about? Is... Is it about your Twitter, perhaps..?”

Kaito sighs; guess it was too much to ask for one unrelated conversation. “So you heard too, then.” He crosses the room to his computer desk, spinning around the office chair placed in front of it so he can plop himself down in it.

“Um, well... Kinda hard not to... Kaede said she and her friends were speculating that your account got hacked? And I wouldn’t be surprised if Kokichi can Photoshop, so... So, um, you, you shouldn’t stress too much if that’s the case? I’m sure Sakakura can fix this.”

If only. “Nah, all he’s done is yell at me.” He snorts, shaking his head. “Because, uh, my account wasn’t hacked. That photo’s real, and, uh, well... The caption was accurate..?”

There’s another long pause. “So, you, you and him are..?”

“Dating, yeah.” He remembers the story they agreed to place down. “About two weeks now, if I’m rememberin’ right.” Then, to make it slightly more believable, he edits it to, “Maybe three?”

Shuichi yet again goes silent for a moment. “... That long?” There’s the faintest hint of hurt in his tone, and panic flutters in Kaito’s chest.

“Hey, don’t say it like that. It, uh, it just...” He struggles to articulate his thoughts and trails off.

“Sorry,” Shuichi finally sighs. “I just... Thought you would’ve told me.” He swallows, and Kaito again regrets doing this at all; of course he would’ve told his best friend the second he started dating.

“I, I meant to- I wanted to,” he lies, the words feeling sour as he forms them, “It just, you know, it was something that just happened.” Literally. “Neither of us were sure it was gonna be more than a brief fling, but, well, here we are.” He forces out a laugh that he hopes sounds real enough.

“Oh, I see... Um, I’m happy for you, then?” He sounds unsure, not that Kaito can blame him for that. “Just... Be careful. You know how Kokichi is.”

He definitely knows. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry; I got this.” He certainly doesn’t, but he won’t worry Shuichi with that.

Shuichi doesn’t respond to that, and Kaito changes the topic to something lighter, something that won’t make him feel like his stomach is eating itself. They talk about Shuichi’s band, about the upcoming tour, about both of their workout regiments, about meals they've cooked recently.

By the time Kaito glances at his watch and finds it to be nearing 3pm, he reluctantly ends their call, hoping that the pain he caused Shuichi has been remedied enough. If it was up to Kaito, he would’ve let Shuichi in on what was really going on, but he knows he shouldn’t just tell someone without consulting Kokichi. No matter how much he trusts Shuichi, he knows how easy it is for information like that to spread.

It’s hard enough work keeping a secret between two people, after all.

He sets those thoughts aside as he hops into the shower, washing off the sweat from his workout and mentally preparing for the interview. A week ago, he would've said the questions were going to be about his latest role and those in upcoming films, but he can rightly assume they were scrambling to create a new set of questions at this very moment.

At least he wouldn't be able to complain later about the interview being boring; he's sure he'll have to keep on his toes to avoid screwing anything up.

Once the water is too cold for even him to stand, Kaito hops out and dries off, skipping on styling his hair and going straight to his closet. He scans the line of suits, rolling his choices in his head before settling on his favorite: a rather flashy purple suit that pairs nicely with the bold galaxy patterned tie his grandparents got him. As he begins to tie it around his collar, he stares at his reflection in the mirror.

Will I need to get some new clothes to match Kokichi’s flamboyant style?

As he mulls the question over, he crosses the room to grab his phone to call for Sakakura, pausing when he notices a text from Kokichi - or rather, a series of texts that Kokichi spammed instead of putting everything in one message.

Kokichi: [so boreddddd]

Kokichi: [mom is being]

Kokichi: [SO NITPICKY]

Kokichi: [plz send help]

Kokichi: [ASAP!!!!]

Kaito snorts at the absurdness and opts not to respond. Kokichi knew what he signed up for when he chose to be a lead role in Toujou’s film. He switches to Sakakura and shoots him an “I’m ready” text. As much as he’d rather drive himself and avoid another lecture, Kaito knows that’s not gonna happen.

He idles until he hears the doorbell ring, grabbing a hair tie and pulling his hair back into a quick ponytail as he makes his way to the front door. Juzo Sakakura stands menacingly in the doorway, displeasure creasing every inch of his face.

“In the car,” he orders with a sharp jerk of his head.

Kaito thinks about saying something along the lines of “what, I don’t even get a hi?” but decides against it; Sakakura was already beyond pissed at him and saying anything unnecessary would only make it worse. So, he does as he’s told, trying not to let his own hot-headedness get flared up at the daggers digging into his back. Even when Sakakura makes sure to slam his car door as he settles down in the driver’s seat.

He drives in silence for a few minutes until they hit their first red light. “You understand what you’re doing, right? This is a serious matter that you won’t be able to back out of, even if you decide later on that you’re not going to humor whatever bullshit that Ouma brat’s pulling.”

Kaito crosses his arms. “I’m sure about this. ‘Sides, it was bound to come out eventually that I like men; as much as I don’t want people all up in my personal business, that’s just how life as a celebrity is.”

Sakakura’s fists clench around the steering wheel. “So, you’re really dating him then?”

“Is it hard to believe?” he asks, genuinely curious if it’s as unfathomable as he’s imagining it would be - though he isn’t sure his manager is the best person to ask that question. The people they’re actually trying to fool aren’t so close to them.

“It’s hard to believe anyone would want to date that entitled brat, let alone a guy like you.” Sakakura sighs, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I wish if you had to do this, you would’ve picked someone quieter about shit like this.”

Kaito reads between the lines on that one. “Look, I’ll handle all the media shit about me coming out, so you don’t have to deal with it. You won’t have to make any public statements or acknowledge it, just don’t be an ass about it. Hell, you can quit if it makes you that fuckin’ uncomfortable.”

He clicks his tongue. “It’s not like that. Do whatever the fuck you want, but don’t bring it to work and we’ll be good.”

A disgusting feeling boils in Kaito’s chest, some crude mixture of shame and anger. It’s not an unfamiliar feeling, but certainly not one he’s felt in a number of years. He refuses to give Sakakura a response, glaring out the window as he talks himself down from acting rashly. He knows he’s pushing a problem to the side that’ll need to be solved before it explodes, but he doesn’t have the patience for this fight right now.

Dammit. While he was initially more worried about how the public was going to react to all this, it was now looking like he should’ve been more concerned about those around him, huh. He’s starting to feel more and more like a fool, and he’s not confident that that’s going to change before the day ends.

#oumota #kokichi ouma #kaito momota #shuichi saihara #juzo sakakura #drv3 #my post #celebrity au #fanfic

[atlasfreak]

hell is hot from your mistakes

chapter three; Tumblr edition

The afterlife is a mess of time and space.

Dream got the brunt end of that mess, of time, and bad luck follows Tommy even in death.

Dream is mere seconds too late reviving him.

Tommy wakes up in a familiar, unfamiliar world in a familiar, unfamiliar body that looks so much like an old friend of his, and yet he remembers everything when really, he shouldn't. His brother's voice guides him, the Nether is blistering heat and dust and his hands are hoofed.

ArchiveOfOurOwn Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30073104/ or THIS

Tommy spends the next day on high alert.

They don't leave the cave, to Wilbur's annoyance; Come on, it'll help things. You- you always took walks when you were upset back before exile, didn't you? His voice floats around distantly - as though he wasn't really back at Tommy's side yet - but Tommy can hear him well enough to be pissed.

"We're not going outside, Wil. We went out fucking yesterday - less than a day ago! And someone fucking died. We stay in here. I wouldn't be allowed to go, anyway."

Fine. Fine. But we should head outside. I have t- I'm rather bored.

"Wilbur, I swear to Philza fuckin' Minecraft-"

Truth is, Tommy did want to go out - he wanted to roam the red fields and forests, counting shroomlights and watching zombified piglins growl at each other. He can't stand it, being cooped up in a cave too empty, space next to him too cold.

But it'll be a long, long while yet before his piglin mother even considers letting him leave the safe sanctuary of the cave.

Speaking of - she's curled in on herself, watching him with a hawk's eye, red from tough Nether tears; tears sapped of all water, tears leaving saline stains along her cheeks. All day she's been torn between getting lost in her awful, awful grief and caring for him, watching over him, protecting him. If not for Tommy, she'd probably sleep the day away in her pain. So Tommy spends the afternoon in the red red cave, trying to entertain his guests and keep his mother from mourning... too heavily. Right now, that means running all around and jumping over her and over the soul soil patch and over the edge of the far side of the cave, where it leads down into a second one.

He's trying, anyway. Wilbur isn't making this any easier. At all.

He sounds in Tommy's left ear. Tommy, if I scout ahead do you- and then he's too quiet for Tommy to hear, -forest? How about that?

"You cut out, Wil," Tommy murmurs, crouching down and bunching his haunches to jump. Mama piglin sprawls out, giving him less of a challenge.

What? You're not just trying to get me to shut up, are you? Wilbur pauses, I'm- I'm cutting out?

"I dunno. You just sound really far away."

I- how long have I sounded far away for?

"A day or so," Tommy mumbles, springing up and landing on all fours on the netherrack behind his mother. She purrs and he feels her tail whip his arm as it wags. Approval. "Ever since you left."

Left?

"To go take brother piglin to the dead zone, right?" Tommy asks. "You know. You went silent. And you were back when I woke up."

Oh! Oh, yes. Yes, I took the piglin to the - how do you call it? The Death Zone, so you could be reunite when you die, Tommy. Lemme tell you, he did not want to leave you guys alone.

"Oh. He's safe then?"

Yes. He's safe - he's with a friend.

The former blonde laughs. "A friend? Yeah, he'll either love or hate Mexican Dream, I think."

Oh, he loved Mexican Dream, Wilbur smiles. Very entertaining fellow, M.D.

Wilbur's voice grows no louder, no closer as they talk; still it sounds far off, distant. Tommy brushes it off and glances to his side. Mama piglin is laying over on her side now, eyes closed.

Tommy rumbles gently at her. Wilbur pauses in what he's saying to stare as Tommy goes to lay beside her -she deserves rest.

Is your mother asleep? Wilbur asks quietly, as if she could hear him.

"Yes," Tommy whispers. "She would've growled back otherwise, even if she's sad."

Good. Come on, let's go.

Tommy glances over, like he'll find Wilbur; like Wilbur will be standing beside him. "What?"

Let's go. Y'know, outside. Come on, Toms, we're going to the forest.

Tommy feels panic flare up in his stomach. "No, nonononono, no. I'm not just leaving her, Wilbur!"

We'll come back, don't worry, Wilbur insists. I'll make sure you don't get jumped. Come on. We need to find- I need to show you something.

Tommy hesitates. He's not.. sure about this. About following Wilbur again. Trust only goes so far when you're TommyInnit, post death.

He voices his hesitation.

Theseus fuckin' Innit, I won't let anything happen to you out there, Wilbur declares. Come on. I'll protect you.

"How're you gonna 'protect me' if you're a fucking voice?"

I'll spec. I'll warn you and scout- it's called ghosting for a reason. It's ok, Toms. I have your back.

"You're sure," Tommy mumbles, casting one last look at his mother. "And nothing- nothing bad will happen?"

Nothing bad will happen. I swear on my life- well. My death.

Tommy swallows and he weighs his options and he makes a decision.

He follows Wilbur's voice out of the cave.

Wilbur does keep his promise, though; whispering Not there, there's a pack of piglins or Watch out to the right, there's a hoglin over there whenever he senses movement. Tommy's head shoots up at every creak or murmur or whistle, jumpier than a chicken on Christmas Eve. Wilbur chuckles.

"Wil, where- where are we going?"

It's somewhere. I don't know exactly.

"Wh- I thought you had a plan!"

I- I kinda do, I don't bloody know!

"Wilbur!" Tommy shouts, "Why'd you lead me out here if you didn't have a plan?"

Keep your voice down. You don't wanna end up like m- mister piglin brother.

"Low ass fuckin' blow," Tommy snarls, but he lowers his volume. "If I die out here, Mama won't even find my body. The hogs will eat it. I don't wanna die again, Wil, I really, really don't."

You won't die, Wilbur says, voice confident as a dying man - take that how you will. If you die, I've failed. You won't die.

"You're so fuckin' weird," Tommy growls as they continue walking - just a little piglin and his disembodied voice of a brother, wandering through the brush. "You're so fuckin' weird today."

Hey, Tommy - look. What's that? Wilbur suddenly asks. His voice is clearer, closer than it's been in hours. Tommy glances over. A little stream of lava falls from the Nether roof and spills across the netherrack floor. Two little red creations bathe in its fiery warmth.

"That's a strider, innit?" Tommy mutters. "You ride 'em cross lava."

Tommy, go up to it, Wilbur whispers. It's friendly.

"How'd'you bloody know that it's friendly?" Tommy grumbles, but he approaches the lava anyway. The nearer strider turns at his footsteps - it sees his hooves one step too close to the heat and it rushes to knock him away at the same time that Wilbur screams Not THAT close!

The strider shivers when it drags itself out of the lava to stand with Tommy - it's young, and Tommy is taller just barely. He moves a hand up to pet it. "Wil, go look for little blue and orange mushrooms. I wanna take the strider home."

I don't see anything, Wilbur says after a moment, but maybe it'll follow anyway.

The purple critter makes a noise akin to a fire crackling and Tommy plays with the frills on the side of its head. "Aw."

Tommy listens to the creak and chattering of his new friend and Wilbur is silent for a moment, then We should keep going.

"We found a strider. We can just head back. No need for all this, it'll keep us entertained for awhile. Little pet strider! I'll name it Shitass."

Wilbur sighs. Awful name. I hate it. What's it gonna speedrun - death? No, and that's not the only reason I lead you out here. There's something else I want you to see.

"Not the only- you wanted me to find a- you're so fuckin' sus today, I swear. Whatever." Tommy rubs his eyes with a groan. "Just tell me what you're looking for. We'll go find it some fuckin- some other day."

Fine.

Tommy blinks.

Then he falls to his knees. His head explodes with hundreds and thousands of voices, all screaming at him, all shrieking at him, all loud, too too loud, too fucking loud-

Wilbur is sus! Aww, Wilbro! Can you name the strider after me? What the fuck is that? Can you say hi to my friend? You missed diamonds. You need blue fungi to lead a strider! Kill it for string. Boat with legs!

Tommy clamps his hands over his ears.

Chat.

"Tommy."

He looks up.

Wilbur is visible.

He's visible! Translucent, yes, but he's there, sitting atop the strider, wearing the dirty old trenchcoat from Pogtopia, hair tangled and eyes gloomy. He points into the distance, across the Nether - the crimson forest ends in a cliff and leads into the wastelands.

"There." he says. His voice is clear as ever - real, not just in Tommy's head. "Over there is a fortress with intact blaze spawners and unlooted chests. It's just over that crest."

"What?" Tommy manages through the mind-wrecking chorus in his ears. He doesn't see anything- no stormy red-black bricks anywhere in sight, just black fuzz creeping into his vision with every new voice, shattering his eardrums. "A- a fortress?"

"You have to learn to fight like this - as a piglin," Wilbur instructs. He tilts his head up. "And you need to get blaze rods. Then- then you can go back."

Woah! DUDUDU! E. Dude just find the smp portal hub, 4head!.Go get them rods, you can take a blaze or two!

Tommy whips around to stare at Wilbur. "I thought you didn't want me to go back."

"I don't," Wilbur sighs. "I really don't. But- but it's not as safe here as I thought it was. I.. you need to get back to the Overworld. Not the DreamSMP specifically, but the Overworld. So.. I'll help you. There's a fortress across the Wastelands, completely untouched. You can get blaze rods and maybe obsidian and gear from it."

Tommy is silent.

Wilbur hops down, but his hand never leaves the strider's head. "That's a long time from now. Prove to me that you can survive it, I'll take you there."

"Why are you so incitement that I can't die?" Tommy demands. "I'll respawn, won't I?"

"Insistent, not incitement," Wilbur corrects with a shake of his head. It's so odd - Tommy still isn't used to seeing him. "You're a mob. You have one life and one life only and Tommy, listen to me. You can't lose it. You can't lose that life. You can't die."

"Wilbur, you're scaring me."

Suddenly, chat is gone. Tommy peaks open his eyes, his head is still aching like a bitch.

Wilbur's gone, too. There's only open space where he had just stood, the strider blinks at him slowly. Must be confused, poor thing. There's no trace that Wilbur had ever been corporeal - just empty air.

Good, Wilbur says; back to a lonely voice, back to being chat. Good.

Tommy swallows.

"Come- come on, Shitass," Tommy whispers after a moment. "Let's.. let's go home."

It's quieter than late nights in the van, quieter than the blanketing silence of L'manburg in chunk-error ruins. Wilbur doesn't speak, but Tommy can hear his breathing. It comforts him; Wilbur hasn't gotten tired of him, hasn't left him behind. The strider follows them without the encouragement of food, and Tommy is grateful. He doesn't want to have to search this place for a single speck of blue just to have a friend that's not a disembodied voice.

"Why don't you do that more often?" Tommy murmurs as they walk. He still isn't heavy enough to leave tracks like his mother, Tommy notes.

Do what?

"Become.. real. Ghostbur."

Other people can hear me, and see me. It's not safe.

"Chat gets really fuckin' loud when you do it," Tommy comments. "It hurts like hell. You're chat, usually, but like... a moving chat. Like you're real, just not visible. When you became see-able, chat came back. Are you blocking them?"

I should be more careful with that first bit, Wilbur hums. But now I want to go ghost less. If it hurts you and there's no point to doing it, why should I?

"Be more careful with w- wait, 'go ghost?'"

It's a reference.

"What to?"

This thing called Da-

Tommy freezes. He feels ice sink through his veins, weighing down his legs. A new sound, a sound neither Wil nor Tommy have ever heard before - it echoes through the Nether, loud and piercing. It hits his ears with the force of a sledgehammer on a bell. The strider pauses and Wilbur shuts his mouth. It's almost like a scream, a cry, a call. A desperate one.

Shit.

"Mama! Mama, it's ok, it's ok!" Tommy can't describe his voice as anything other than frantic, desperate. "Mama, I'm right here, I'm right here, I'm safe!" he shrieks, running through the brush, stumbling over roots and thorns and bushes. The strider follows slowly.

He tries to match her scream, tries to tip her off - I'm right here, I'm right here! - but he doesn't hear her come to him, doesn't see her relieved white eyes. Wilbur is in his ear, whispering warnings and observations and-

"I don't care if there are hoglins, fucking- find her! Find her, you useless fucking ghost!" Tommy screams at Wilbur.

There's just a beat, a single heartbeat of stunned silence. Tommy pants, a mixture of exhaustion and fury trying its hardest to escape him. Wilbur's voice echoes in his mind as he whips around, looking desperately.

If you go forward a bit, there's a cliffside. Below is a very tall tree, far left of the cave. She's standing beneath it.

Tommy runs. He runs faster than he ever had with hooves, maybe faster than he had with feet. His mother glances up as he scrabbles down the cliffside, slipping down jagged rock. He feels hot, wet pain run down his leg but he doesn't slow to check, just tumbles to the ground with a yelp. She shuts her mouth and scruffs him immediately, sniffing his head and checking, reassuring herself, please be alive please be alive please be alive despite the very real squirming and very alive "Mama, please calm down, please, I'm fine."

She collapses when she realises he's safe and fine and alive and she's not childless and she holds him close.

If it were anyone else, Tommy would squeal and try to wiggle out, away, but it's his mother. He lets her hold him, forcing a purr. See? I'm fine.

Wilbur's voice rings out, distant. Tommy, what about the strider?

Tommy doesn't respond. He just lays in his mother's arms, eyes closed.

Nevermind, got it! Tommy turns around to see the strider hit the ground right in front of them with a distressed crackle and an OW THAT MUST'VE HURT out of Wil.

His mother has it dead in seconds.

GOD DAMMIT! Wilbur screeches. I JUST GOT THAT B- I JUST GOT THAT DOWN!

Tommy flattens his ears. His mother snarls as the strider falls apart in a cloud of smoke and dust and string.

Wilbur sighs. Tommy raises an eyebrow. "Can't you just bring one back by yourself? You can- you can 'go ghost', you literally didn't need me."

There's no response.

"Wilbur?"

Not even soft breathing. Tommy's tail falls limp. His mother hugs him closer, as if the lack of wagging meant he was about to drop dead, evaporate like the strider had.

Wil's gone. Tommy can only hope he's going to come back, like he did when his brother died.

Maybe Wilbur just doesn't like death.

Tommy leans into his mother's soft fluff.

"I'm sorry for leaving."

She huffs.

"Please never - fuckin' - please never scream like that again."

Her response is a low snort. You made me afraid. I was afraid. Never run away like that, and I will never scream, Tommy understands.

"Ok, Piglin Mama," Tommy murmurs. "Ok."

Wilbur runs his hands through his hair - real hair. Real, physical, human hair. Living hands, real hair.

He's furious. He won't let it show.

"What's this?" He asks, calm and collected and cool. With a soft smile and curious eyes - he's used to playing a mellow role, an innocent role. "What've you done?"

Dream narrows his eyes. "Why now did it work? Why couldn't I bring you back before, Wilbur?"

Wilbur ignores him, instead digging through his trenchcoat pockets. "Oh, I still have my deck!" he chirps. "Wanna play solitaire?"

"Is it why I can't bring back Tommy?"

"Or are you more of a poker guy? What about war? That's easy enough for you, I think."

"Wilbur," Dream hisses. "Listen to me."

"We could play Uno - queen can be pick up two, king can be pick up four, joker can be skip! Or reverse-"

"WILBUR!"

Wil smiles. "Yes, Dream?"

"Why can't I ressurect Tommy?"

"Do you not like card games? I'm afraid I've only got cards." Dream stands and Wilbur raises an eyebrow. "Aw, do you really have to look up to make eye contact with me?"

"It's because you're wearing tall boots. I'm not wearing shoes," Dream insists. "Sam took them," he adds quietly.

"Sure it's the boots, Dream," Wil snickers. "Sure."

Dream blinks. "Don't distract me."

"I didn't do anything."

"Listen up, Wilbur Soot," Dream snarls.

"Bit formal, what with the whole full name bit, but I'm listening. I'm listening, go ahead, Dream." Wilbur tilts his head, insufferably smug.

"You will tell me how to revive Tommy - you'll tell me what you did, you'll stop tampering - or I will kill you. Do you hear me, Wilbur? Do you understand me? I will kill you."

Wilbur sorts through his deck, counting cards and yawning. Unimpressed.

"I will kill you and bring you back and kill you again. Over and over and over, as long as it takes. Every minute of every hour of every day of every month of every year until. You. Spill. Your. Secrets. Now do you want to listen to me, and do it the easy, easy, easiest way, or d-"

"Actually, I'm a bit - little itty bitty bit, tiny bit - tired of of this whole living thing, love," Wilbur interrupts. Dream stutters as Wilbur runs past Dream, spins round to face him and fall back, arms spread like a bird and wearing a shit eating grin. Wilbur Soot throws himself at burning, starving lava with a silly salute and bright eyes.

"BYE, DREAM!"

The freckled man can't do anything but stare as Wilbur's face contorts in awful, horrible pain for just a moment, then gone. Fully, completely gone - nothing but a swirl of smoke. The scent of burnt flesh stains the air and Dream feels like he's going to vomit. A charred sleeve falls to the ground in front of him - embroidered patches display old flags.

Dream picks up the cloth.

Green and white and pink, blue and purple with a white... sun? And-

He clenches his hand around the scrap.

Half a black circle, a fine yellow border and a bold yellow x. A line of blue runs along the top, and red along the bottom, and white cuts through the center with two more crosses.

The flag of a fallen nation.

Dream holds the patch with shaking hands, fury racing through his veins like hot fire, the fire that ravaged fur and ravaged flesh. He lifts the chunk of fabric to the lava, flinching as the fire swallows it eagerly and licks at his skin with a flash of searing, searing pain. Tears prick at his eyes as he holds a scorched, damaged hand to his chest, breathing like sailer too close to the sea and its sirens. Dreams turns and he swipes the water off his face and he throws it to the ground, to the ring of red blood (his own, his own blood, his own horrible horrible red blood) and a single glove, a single fingerless glove taken from his own hands, a glove with just traces, traces, traces of a dead man, miniscule little skin cells, gloves he had borrowed long ago from hands stained gray with gunpowder, and he waits for the blood to lighten and glow and he waits for Wilbur to appear again with the same cold, cold eyes.

Wilbur doesn't respond.

Dream punches the wall. "STOP TAMPERING! STOP TAMPERING!"

He almost hears the mocking laughter.

Then stop trying.

Far, far away, a small piglin opens his eyes. He's tucked against a bigger piglin, a sow who had never let him sleep beside her before.

There's a baby strider sleeping in front of him an a kind voice in his ears.

Good morning, Tommy.

"Oh, Wilbur! Wil, you're back! Wil. Wil. Wil. Wil, where were you?"

Off. Visited an old friend, brought a new one. Sorry about- about yesterday.

"It's ok, I think. And, by the way?"

Hm?

"Thank you, Wilbur."

For the strider?

"For... everything, really. Everything here."

Oh.

Tommy doesn't hear Wilbur's quiet ...Don't thank me yet.

#tommyinnit #tommy innit #dsmp tommy #dsmp tommy innit #dsmp tommyinnit #dreamsmp #dream smp #dsmp #smp #dsmp fanfiction #fanfiction #dreamSMP fanfiction #wilbur soot #wilbur mcyt #wilbur #wilbursoot #mcyt wilbur #mcyt tommy #mcyt tommyinnit #tommyinnit mcyt #tommy mcyt #dreamsmp mcyt #mcyt dreamsmp #dream mcyt #dreamwastaken #mcyt dream #abusive dream #dsmp dream #dreamsmp dream #atlas; hell is hot from your mistakes

[okk--maaan]

Bad Kitchen Dreams

Hi. This is very dumb. But I couldn’t help myself when @ellelaconi​ threw out a Pale Kitchen Nightmares AU. So here you go. Feel free to imagine him in a blonde Matt wig and chef’s coat with a British accent.

WC: ~1.7k (whoops)

CW: you’re a really bad chef, Pale degrading you because you’re such a bad chef, pussy eating, fingering, PIV, brief drug mention, OSHA violations

Pale has traveled all over the country doing this. Helping desperate restaurant owners resurrect their businesses from the ashes. But in his twenty years, he’s never seen a situation as dire as this. As dire as yours.

When he pulls up in his big black car, he can tell the restaurant isn’t open. “Who the fuck ain’t open at one o’clock in the afternoon? Fuckin’ bullshit,” he mutters to himself. And sure enough. When he tries the front door - locked. He bangs on the glass and yells, “Hey! Hello! Anybody in there?!” After like five fuckin’ minutes of this, you finally appear -- wearing a dirty disgusting chef’s coat, your hair haphazardly pinned up, shit on your face. You wipe your hands down your front, smearing something orange across the little bit of white left on your apron.

As soon as you turn the lock, Pale pushes his way through with his big body. Without the barrier of safety glass, he can really get a good look at you. Even with all the mess, you’re pretty fuckin’ hot. Stunning really. Makin’ his cock twitch in his dark jeans, with your soft fuckin’ eyes and lips and shit. But he can’t think about that right now. He’s got work to do. Clearly.

He sticks a fat hand out and greets, “Hey doll. The name’s Jimmy. But call me Pale. Everyone calls me Pale. Hate that fuckin’ name in fact. Jimmy. Only person call me that is my fuckin’ wife.” You’re flustered with how quickly he rambles, but you take his hand and introduce yourself. “Well let me ask you something. Why the hell ain’t you open? It’s the middle of fuckin’ lunch,” he wave his hands all over the place like this is the most atrocious thing. And honestly, in his opinion, it might be. “Uhh well no one’s in here,” you try to explain. He scoffs, “Yeah no shit. Kinda hard for people to get in with the door locked and all.” He did have a point there. You wring your sweaty palms together, trying to fight the utter embarrassment. “Thank you for agreeing to help me, Jimmy - uh Pale. Please tell me what I need to do to fix this.” He leans in real close, jabs a thumb behind him, “Why don’t you unlock the fuckin’ door first?” You chuckle nervously and walk past him. Pale can’t help but glance at your ass as you do, just can’t help himself. And damn. You look just as good from the back as you do from the front. And again, his dick agrees.

With the restaurant officially open, you give Pale a tour. But the condition of the dining room is so deplorable, he doesn’t want to go any further. “Nah doll. I ain’t going in that kitchen. I got half a mind to even let you cook for me,” he throws his hands up in protest. He pulls out the cleanest chair he can find and plops down. Dusting off the tiny table in front of him, he asks, “So what kinda food you serve here?” “I create Mexican Italian fusion dishes,” you respond quickly and proudly. But that pride is short lived, with the way he’s staring at you. “Huh. Fusion. Well I’ll be the judge of that,” he purses his lips as he opens a cloth napkin and sets it in his lap. You take that as your cue to bring out his first course.

“Here we have a baby squid, steamed with lemon and capers,” you say in your best chef’s voice. Steamed? Squid? Pale thinks - knows - what’s sitting in front of him won’t be good. But you’re too fuckin’ pretty for him to flat-out refuse. He wishes he did a bump before coming in this place. By the way he has to stab the fish with his fork, he instantly knows it’s not cooked. “Look, I ain’t eating this. This squid is so raw, I can hear it telling Spongebob to fuck off.” Hot tears prick at your eyes. And he can see it. “No. Come on now. Don’t start that shit. Just - just bring me the next course,” he dismisses you.

You set two overly stuffed enchiladas in front of Pale. They look better than the squid, but his hopes aren’t too high. When he finally musters up the courage to take a bite, he wants to spit it out right away. “These are the worst fuckin’ enchiladas I’ve ever had,” he throws down his fork. You go to remove the plate, but he grabs your wrist and pulls you to his eye level. “Look doll. I know I said I didn’t want to go into that fuckin’ kitchen, but you’re going to take me back there. Right now. Show me with the fuck you got going on.” The way his breath blows over your face and his eyes bore into you, you can’t refuse. “Oh-okay,” you stutter.

As you walk to the kitchen, Pale follows, and you can feel his gaze locked on you. And he is truly mesmerized by the way your hips swing. As soon as he crosses the threshold, he demands any and every other employee leave. “Go clean something. And don’t come back in her til’ I say so. Got it?” All life - including the cockroaches - scatters. Except for you. And him. He stalks over to you liek a wild animal. And you’re his prey. Your ass back up against the metal counter, where he cages you between his strong arms. “How’s this sweetheart. Your restaurant is disgusting, your food is even worse. This place ain’t gonna stay open another month. But you? You’re the best damn thing I’ve seen this side of the Hudson.” He steps in even closer, pressing his hot hot body to yours. “Pale, I-” your eyes drop between your bodies. You can feel the bulge in his pants, insistent on your stomach. Before you can choke out another word, his fingers are digging into your soft hips. In one swift instant motion, he lifts you to sit atop the cold counter and mashing his mouth to yours. Demanding. Hungry. You part your lips for him without protest, let his tongue slide against yours. Your fingers comb and twist into his slicked back hair. He moans and thrusts into you when your nails scratch at his scalp. A sudden burst of confidence implores your hands to move to work at undoing his jeans. But he swats you away, pinches your cheeks between his forefinger and thumb. “Nuh uh doll. You’re not ready for my big cock yet.” When you nod in agreement, he releases your face and finds your own waistband, yanking down your pants and panties at once. With those around your ankles, he spreads you open and admires your glistening cunt. “God. Are you always this wet for every Joe Blow that walks in this joint?” You can feel your face heat up at the comment, but Pale ain’t paying not attention. He’s too busy dropping to his knees and wedging himself between yours. And he wastes no time diving in. You gasp and hiccup at the sudden contact. He licks and sucks at your silky folds, drinking down everything you give him. Occasionally, his proud nose nudges your stiff clit, sending shockwaves down your spine. He grunts and pulls away with a wet pop, “Finally something edible. Finally some good fucking pussy.” Fuck he really wishes he had some coke or a cigarette or a drink, something. He’s already too worked up and he doesn’t want to wait anymore.

So he doesn’t.

Pale stands back to his full, towering height and makes quick work of his belt. He uses one hand to free himself, while he coats two fingers on the other in your slick. “Are you ready to take my big cock sweetheart?” he asks before shoving his thick digits deep into you. You inhale sharply and groan at the intrusion. “Yes Pale. Please.” He shakes his head, his dick now in his hand, where he strokes it slowly. “Nah doll. I want to hear you say it.” It takes every last brain cell not focused on the sensation of his burning hand pumping into you to find the words. “Yes - ah fuck - yes. Please fuck me. I’m ready to take your big cock.” Before you even finish your sentence, he’s lining up and thrusting into you. Hard. Deep. Your head falls back and knocks the steel service pass at the same time his cock head knocks your cervix. “Fuck. Fuck me. I like the way you beg sweetheart.” As he sets his brutal pace, the only sounds you can return are moans and whimpers and gasps. Your sounds of pleasure mix with his grunts and groans and curses and the delicious sound of bare skin smacking on bare skin. The symphony you create together bounces off pots pans plaster walls. “Fuckin’. This tight little pussy is gonna make me bust. Mmnh - fuck. Play with yourself doll. Make yourself cum. Make yourself fuckin’ cum on my cock.” You think you nod your head, but you’re not really sure. Either way, you brace your weight on one hand and use the other to draw perfect tight circles into your needy clit. The extra stimulation, added to Pales’ filthy words and steady driving driving into you, pushes you right over the edge. “Unnhh Pale. I- I’m gonna cu- I’m gonna-” “Yeah. That’s right. Cum on my cock. Cum on my cock in your dirty kitchen. Add to the mess. I’m gonna fuckin’ add to the mess. I’m gonna cum all over you. Fuck it’s disgusting in here,” he babbles and rants. You don’t even care that he’s continuing to insult your restaurant, even when he’s balls deep in you. You don’t even care because you can feel your cunt tightening around him and that ball of fire tightening around your insides. He fucks into one, two, three times more and everything explodes. You lurch forward, eyes pinched tight, cum with a shout. He follows right behind, pulling out of your still convulsing cunt, fucking his fist fast. Shooting sticky thick streams of cum onto one of your thighs, your exposed belly, and the counter. As he groans through the end of his climax, he smacks your undefiled thigh and grunts, “Shut it down doll.”

And you do.

You never enter another kitchen. Never cook another meal.

And never hear from Jimmy - Pale - again.

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

Tagging a couple other pals who expressed interest for some reason lol @direnightshade​ @poetic-solo​ @blackredrose27​ @find-me-with-orion​

#pale x you #pale x reader #pale/you #pale/reader #pale burn this #burn this broadway #adam driver #adam driver character #my writing #im so sorry

[headoverhiddles]

Matrimony - Pope x Reader (Let Me Make You A Martyr) [Part III]

Synopsis: It’s time to do what you came out here to do with Pope. No, not that. The other thing, with guns. 

Notes: Last part! It’s been really fun writing for Pope. Everyone, contribute as much as you can to the Pope tag cause he’s hot af and deserves more fics! 

Tagging: @peachynun @elrosew @livelifewondering​

PART I

PART II

"Morning," you say, avoiding his eye contact. Pope gives you a curious look at the sudden shyness.  

"Hey." 

Ever the man of few words, he gets to cooking breakfast. You watch him, wondering how you're going to keep it together tonight. Surely, this is when Pope would take the opportunity to kill Pierce. But it was a matter of keeping your cool until then...

You'll be fine. You were the one who saved face yesterday. Pope is gonna end this guy, and you'll be back to your own lives, never to work alongside one another again. This evening would be terrifying and exciting, and you find yourself fantasizing what it’ll feel like when Pierce is finally dead. Just keep picturing that. Not Pope, from your dream last night. 

Still. You shouldn’t make things weird. 

“Sleep well?” you ask. 

“No. No surprise there.”   

You nod slowly, then finally get the courage to quit beating around the bush. “What did you mean last night? When you said we were both pretending to be something we’re not?” 

He wipes his hands on a towel, and tosses it in the sink. “What did you think I meant?” 

“Come on,” you sigh, “This isn’t a game.” He looks back at you over those glasses. 

“Isn’t it?”

---

Around late afternoon, you're in the bedroom, going over some things for tonight. You've got two guns, which you intend to load both of, just in case Pope needs backup. You get up, and check your appearance in the mirror. Just unsuspecting enough to be a housewife, with enough room under your hoodie to hide your mini arsenal. 

You pick up one of the guns from the bed, and walk to his room. He's not there-- probably downstairs.

"Hey. Do you have any more bullets?"

No answer. 

You walk down the steps, tucking one of the guns into your back pocket. You head outside. Maybe he's skinning some dead animal or something weird like that. The man likes blood far too much. 

"Hey! Pope!" you call out, but still no answer. “I know I should’ve brought my ammo, but... I don’t fucking know where it is.” Then it dawns on you. The bastard left to do the job without you!

Infuriating! Asshole! Shithead!

You storm through the woods, the idea of pulling your gun on Pope on sight very present in your mind, and finally make it to the house. Still no sign of anyone.

"Swear to god, you'd better not be--" you mutter, and rush in. The two men are sitting, facing each other. You walk in, and Pierce lifts his chin.

"Thought you said the girl was sick." 

"I got better," you growl.

"Did you?" Pope asks, voice low and warning. "Mm, I don't know. I think you'd better get home, get back into bed, sweetheart. Don’t want you to deteriorate... or worse." He gives you a pointed look. 

"And pass up an evening like this? Honey. You know me better than that." You put on a big smile, and sit down beside him.  

"Yeah. Well, let's get on with the sale." Pierce sighs. "See, I... I came out here to take a break. Y'know, sit back, enjoy the money. Get away for a while, lay low." You feel your blood rising. Guys like Pierce shouldn't get to enjoy their money, the money they've stolen from good, clean dealers. 

"You were in trouble with the cops," you say, "Your operation was gonna fold if you didn't let things cool off." Pope swats you inconspicuously.

"What did you say?" Pierce mutters. 

"Well, we've been in the same boat for possession!" you quickly cover. "We know how it is. We came out here to... to do the same." 

"You two fuckin' dealers?" He narrows his eyes.

"No." Pope calmly diffuses the tension in the room. "We're just a married couple, come to enjoy life in the off the grid for a while." He lies through his teeth. "With some of your shit."

You smile, taking Pope's arm. "Wake and bake."

"Right," Pierce says. "I just... I've normally got my boys with me, when I handle transactions."

"We understand that," Pope says, nodding slowly, "And we respect that. If you don't want to sell..."

"Nah, nah. It just rubs me the wrong way."

"What does?" Pope's tone is amused. He knows how in control of the situation he really is. You on the other hand, are wary of Pierce’s suspicion. He’s as sharp as the two of you, and you know it.

"Two of you, moving in right when I do. Snooping through my motherfucking house. I don't know."

"Neighbors can be nosy," you smile.

"Mhm," Pope nods. 

“I just wanna ask you a few questions before I feel comfortable enough selling to you.” 

“That’s fine,” Pope opens his hands, leaning back. “We got the time.” 

“What do you do?”

“I’m a carpenter.” 

“He’s a singer,” you say at the same time. Pope looks at you, jaw visibly clenching. You clear your throat. “I mean... he decided carpentry wasn’t fulfilling enough for him. Pursued music instead.” 

“And what does that make you, then?” Pierce chuckles. 

“His manager,” you say.

“Groupie,” Pope speaks at the same time. He gives a little self satisfied smile, and you have to fight not to pinch him. You just smile sweetly at the dealer across from you. 

“Depends on who you ask, really.”

“Where you two from?”

“We just moved into the other cabin,” you say, “We told you that.”

“I mean, where you originally from?”

“Does that matter?” you huff. 

“Does to me.”

“Ohio,” Pope steps in with a clean backstory, “We met and got married there.”

“How’d you two meet, huh?” 

“We got to talking. Didn’t wanna stop talking.” 

“Fuckin’ cute,” Pierce mutters, “Fine, that checks out. What about you? You ain’t said much, little lady.” 

“Well, after we got married, we... sort of came to the conclusion that we wanted something away from people. This place was perfect.” Your eyes drift to Pope, and you feel something click into place inside you. “Perfect for both of us.”  

“Mm. Perfect,” Pierce nods. “You sound like a couple who knows what they want. I’m very much the same way. In fact...” he takes out a stack of a few Polaroids, and hands them to you. “When I don’t get my way... my boys don’t carry something out properly, or someone cheats me... you could say things get a little messy.” You look down at the photos as he keeps talking, heart rate picking up. Each Polaroid is a close up of a fresh corpse, face smashed in, bullet holes leaving nothing behind. The pictures are gruesome; you have to hide your disgust. "Look. Mr. and Mrs. Warner. You seem like nice people.” Your eyes move down as you notice his hand reaching underneath the couch cushion. “The kinda shitty nice people I don't sell to, cause I know they ain't looking for no god damn dope." 

It all happens too fast. You see him reach, so you take out the gun from your back pocket, aim it at his forehead, and pull the trigger. It clicks. Pope watches, scrutinizing your every move, and you wonder why he's not stepping in. 

"H-he--" you stutter, but Pope just lifts his chin, folds his fingers, and watches. Pierce goes for his weapon hidden in the couch, and you lurch forward, smashing the butt of the gun into the man's face to hinder him. Pope nods slightly, but you don't notice, as you get on top of him and keep beating him with the pistol.

"Kill him."

"You fucking kill him!" you scream, digging your nails into the guy's neck.

"Kill him, now."

"Po--"

"Do it."

You look down, but Pierce takes your moment of distraction to throw you off him. A sharp pain spreads through your rib cage, but you don't have time to check it. Pierce is blinded now by the blood leaking into and out of his eyes, but he's crawling for where he knows the cabinet of guns is. Pope stands up, and aims. He shoots Pierce in both legs, blood exploding onto you and the walls, and finally, he tosses the gun. Without thinking, you catch it, aim it, and blow the dealer's head to pieces.

You drop the gun, and stare down at him. You should be shaking. You should be ready to throw up, with all the carnage around you. Pope watches you. You look up at him. "That felt good." He nods again, and you suddenly feel all your rage come back. "You asshole! Why didn't you shoot him when you realized my gun wasn't loaded?! He was a clear shot. You just sat there! I thought you were supposed to be some expert hitman!" Pierce's cell rings on the table, and without looking back, Pope shoots it to pieces. You stop, stunned, and he advances on you. "Now wait just a minute. You came over h--"

He takes you by the shoulders. "If I wanted to kill the man myself, I would have pulled the trigger the minute I walked through the fuckin’ door."

He's too close to be considered friendly (or friendly rivalry) and you look down to his chest. 

“Then... why didn’t you?” you breathe. 

He squeezes your shoulders, and in a burst of either fury or passion, kisses you rough. He pulls away, almost in surprise, then his eyes darken again as you initiate another kiss. You fall back, slipping on the bloody hardwood, and Pope falls on top of you. In seconds his fingers are in your clothes, ripping fabric here and popping buttons where they won't cooperate. Blood continues to slip between you as he reaches down to pull your shorts off, then your panties. 

"Yeah," you groan, and he bites your stomach, moving downward. You moan even louder when his lips graze your heat, and his tongue sweeps out, and inside.

"This is what you want?" he asks, ripping your panties.  

You can't do anything but moan in reply, desperate to feel him inside of you. He moves up, and undoes his pants. The both of you roll over so that you're on top, and he brings your face down to his to kiss you again. Through the kiss, you take over his pursuit in opening up his pants, and get him out. He groans into your mouth as you sink down on top of him, and you rest your forehead against his, sighing softly.

Pope nips your bottom lip, and rolls you both over again so that he's on top.

"Fuck me," you beg, and he hushes you, taking your wrists and pinning them above your head. He grunts as he pushes in, his weight over top of you turning you on even more. You breathe his name, feeling his cock bury deep inside of you, working to satisfy the ache you'd had for him for the past three days. You hadn't realized you had it this bad until the arousal hit you, eradicating every effort not to give in to the hitman.

He clasps your hands tight, and his warm breath sends shivers through you. It's as if the two of you know one another in every sense but corporeal, and are just learning that too. 

"I'm close," you gasp, grinding your hips down as you very nearly cry out your pleasure. He keeps your body restrained, never relenting his thrusting. He goes faster, kissing down your neck as he fucks you. He moves his hands from his wrist to grab your hair, pulling it back. Your head hits the floorboards and you moan, craving more as your orgasm builds, igniting in your lower body and threatening to spread. He tugs harder, fucking you deep, and you cry out, screaming his name as you coat his cock. You see stars as pieces of your vision black out-- you'd never felt so lightheaded. 

"That’s it, sweetheart," he growls, “That’s it right there.” You feel him finish too, filling you up. You wrap your legs, which had been braced on either side of him, around his back as he lets himself relax over top of you. He lifts his head, blood streaks down his face. You blink up at him, eyes as hooded as his as he speaks in a low, fucked out rasp. “Thought you’d be a lot louder in bed."

You smile hazily up at him, comebacks swimming around in your head, then you pass out. Pope frowns, gets off of you, and checks your body for wounds.

You'd been stabbed.

---

Your eyes open on a dusty car window, forehead pressed to it as grassy scenery blurs by. You lean away from it, rubbing your head. Pope is driving, down the road you came out to the cabin on.

“We gonna pretend that didn’t happen?” you finally ask, voice weak. 

“Oh, it happened.” 

"Pierce?" you manage out. Pope doesn't take his eyes off the road.

"Burned the house down with him in it." 

"So. A forest fire."

"Made sure it didn't catch before we left. Can't have cops crawling all over the place."

"How long have I been out?" He doesn't answer. You sigh. "What about the dope?"

"Also burning with him."

You huff a laugh, wincing at the pain in your side. "Worth a try. Ah..."

"How's your wound, kid?" he asks. His voice is a lot softer than when you two had been driving out this way.

"Hurts like a... ow, like a bitch."

"That's what you get."

"What?"

"For deviating from the plan.”

“Fuck your plan. Mine was better.”  

“Quiet.” He just turns back to the road. “Let the drive rock you to sleep." He turns up the country blues, and you thunk your head against the window again, smiling.

---

"You did it. You really did it, son of a bitch, I can't believe it."

You watch Lane pace around the small room, wincing at the pain from your rib cage. "You sent me on this job expecting me to bite it, didn’t you?"

"Is it that obvious?" Lane just smiles. He looks down at your bound wound. "Oh, I just didn't think you'd get to Pierce, didn’t expect you to die or anything. But he's dead." He looks at some photographs he’d had a contact drop off to him from the coroner’s. "Very dead. And now... well, I know you’re gonna be fine wherever you go next."

You don’t think you’ve heard him right. "You're firing me from the business I started?" you mutter. "You're... you're actually firing me, after I took out our competition?! And almost DIED?!"

Lane seems confused. "Did he not tell you?"

"Did who not tell me what?!" you demand.

Lane swears under his breath. "Damn cryptic bastard. Just, go get some rest. Come back tomorrow for some cash from a few deals, and we'll figure this whole thing out." You stare up at him defiantly, until he insists. “Go!” 

You stuff your hands in your pockets, and leave the tiny office. You walk home through the dark, and when you get there, you check behind you as you always do before entering your low-cost apartment. Stepping over a couple of things, you toss your keys on the table, and take off your jacket. 

"Hey." You whip around, clutching your chest. Pope is sitting on your couch. You don't even question how he got in. He lifts his chin. "I wanted to congratulate you."

"On what?" you huff, "Surviving?" You tilt your head, heading to your kitchen to start making dinner. "At that, I am very talented."

"You have lotsa other talents too," he says, and purses his lips, considering this. "And I don't just mean between your legs, though that was an experience in itself."

"What the hell are you doing in my apartment?" you ask, gesturing to him with a spatula. Your face softens as you consider what he’d done for you-- driving you back and all, making sure you got to a good safe doctor. Still. He didn’t make that job very easy. Pope tilts his head.

"I want you to work with me." 

You nearly drop the utensil. Setting your cooking things down, you wipe your hands, and walk out to face him in your dark living room. He looks up at you in proposition, hands folded in his lap with that completely tranquil expression.

"Was this hit a training job?"

He doesn’t bat an eyelash in answering. "Do I look like a fucking mentor?"

"I don’t know, you tell me!"

He shakes his head. "I spent nearly the whole time refusing the whole idea. When you killed the man, it got me thinking. Then we had sex."

"Interrupted the thought process, did I?"

"I can’t say that I mind."

You scoff. "Pope. You work alone."

"Yeah. So do you.” He sighs, looking out your window for a time. Then his eyes roll back to you. “The last 24 hours were the hardest of my life, trying to figure out where the hell I go from here. And that’s sayin’ a lot-- I’ve been through some shit. After thinking for a while, I thought of something my grandfather told me.” You sit down opposite him on your floor, crossing your legs. He sits forward. “He told me about a man who only lived off what he needed. The only thing that made him happy was the pleasure he derived from what he did, nothing else. He never wanted anything. But that’s a good thing, I said. Only needing what you need, never wanting anything more. But then he told me that when the man died, Death told him he could bring one thing along. Just one. He asked the man: “What do you want?” The man couldn’t think of anything. See... he never let himself want anything, so he never really lived for anything.” He pushes up his glasses. “(y/n). I don't need you. I want you." 

You’re speechless. He sits forward, and watches you for a long time. "What are you gonna do staying here? Let's face it, you're a fiend, kid. As honest as your work is, you still gotta live under the radar like me. Use your skill set. Get better. Just don't die doing it, cause I do funerals by fire, I ain't sentimental."

“Says the man who just bared his soul to me in a fable your fucking grandfather supposedly told you.”

His mouth quirks up. “It was merely a conclusion I came to after sitting on my porch, spinning... what was it? Solitary Man, with some whiskey, and scraping my boots.” 

You laugh, thinking back to that. You run a hand through your hair in thought, wincing again at the pain in your side. You've always gone with your gut... so you nod. "Yeah."

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah." You nod, shaking his hand in partnership. He gets up, and kisses you on the forehead, handing you one of your blankets from a pile beside him.

"Get out of the kitchen," he murmurs, "I don’t wanna die of food poisoning after everything." 

"If you cook pasta half as good as you kill..." you sigh, then pause. "Y'know... I've never actually seen you kill anyone."

"What?'

"Like, myself. I've never witnessed it myself, only heard the stories."

"The stories are enough, (y/n)."

"I'm not convinced." 

You hear the spatula whack the pan a little harder than it should. "Don't start."

You smile, sitting down on your couch. Just outside on the balcony, you can see the stars, and you think of all the shapeshifters you didn't get to see out there in the woods this week. Maybe now, in an oxymoronic partnership of working independently together, the two of you could pretend a little less... and find something you didn’t know you’d been looking for. 

#pope x reader #reader x pope #pope let me make you a martyr #let me make you a martyr #marilyn manson #marilyn manson x reader #reader x marilyn manson #brian warner #brian warner x reader #reader x brian warner #heavy metal #heavy metal fanfiction #marilyn manson imagine #marilyn manson imagines #marilyn manson fandom #mansonite #mansonites #marilyn manson fanfiction

[artificialqueens]

Not Nineteen Forever (7) (Branjie/Scyvie)- Ortega

a/n: this was a quick update! i’m off on holiday tomorrow for a week so thought i’d squeeze one in before i go (ayyyy). thank u so so so much for all the love, i appreciate it so much and i just hope i can keep delivering for u all!

Summary: Brooke, Yvie and Nina are three flatmates who forged a friendship in their first year of university and picked up some other waifs and strays along the way. Now in their final year, there are feelings that need to be unravelled and confessions to be made whilst navigating drunk nights, hungover mornings, takeaways, group chats, library meetups, cafe gossiping, and the small matter of getting a degree.

Last chapter: Scarlet and Yvie got their shit together, and something’s going on with Brooke and Vanessa.

This chapter: Something’s still going on between Brooke and Vanessa. And Scarlet and Yvie. And Nina and someone else, it seems. Basically everyone’s running around a party and the sexual tension is through the roof. Standard xo

***

Brooke, overall, was good at keeping secrets.

When Akeria had drunkenly got with the guy Silky had had a crush on for ages in second year, Brooke hadn’t ever brought it up to anyone. When Nina had tearfully come out to her around Christmas time of first year, Brooke had obviously kept her mouth shut until Nina felt ready to be open about it with everyone. But this current secret was a little trickier, because as much as she wanted to keep it quiet, part of her wanted to scream it from the fifth floor of the library until her lungs popped and her vocal cords snapped.

She and Vanessa had kissed.

Not just once, although the first time had been Brooke’s favourite, and she’d spent the rest of her time with the girls after laserquest in a sort of dreamlike state, wondering if it had actually happened. This was exacerbated by Vanessa laughing and smiling and chatting to everyone as if nothing had ever happened, and when they all said goodbye she gave Brooke her usual hug and a kiss on the cheek and went on her way.

In bed that night, Brooke had made an executive decision- she’d spent three fucking years waiting for Vanessa to notice her, really properly notice her, and she wasn’t about to let what had happened between them that afternoon go unacknowledged. So the next day, she had shot Vanessa a message.

Brooke: Hey. Can we do coffee or something today? Are you free?

She’d had to wait an hour for a reply, during which Brooke practically bit her nails down to stumps.

Vanessa: hey sorry i had a tutorial!! xxx

Vanessa: um today ain’t a good time i got an essay due that i need to finish xxxx

Vanessa: could do tomorrow? xxx

Brooke: Tomorrow’s fine yeah, Liezen at 12?

Vanessa: yeah sounds good xxxxx

Vanessa: i take it you want to talk about Saturday xx

Brooke very nearly almost threw up.

Brooke: Yeah

Vanessa: cool xxxx

Vanessa: tomorrow at Liezen at 12 it is then xxxx

All of that day Brooke had hardly retreated from her bedroom, her heart pounding so much she felt sure she’d somehow had some form of caffeine overdose. She tried everything to distract herself- binge-watching Come Dine With Me, napping, attempting to do uni work- but nothing was successful. She had no idea how she was going to approach it, and she had no idea how Vanessa was either.

The next day, Brooke made sure she was sat at a small, quiet booth a few minutes before they were scheduled to meet. She immediately regretted her decision about thirty seconds in when her stomach began churning like a KitchenAid, the overthinking already beginning in her mind. So by the time Vanessa walked in, her hair and makeup perfectly done and dressed in a cute black button-up coat, Brooke was practically on the verge of a panic attack.

“Hey!” Vanessa greeted her warmly, leaning over to hug her before she sat down. “How are ya, girl?”

“Uh, yeah, fine,” Brooke coughed out. Her mouth was so fucking dry. “How has, uh. How has your day been?”

“Oh, baby, come on,” Vanessa purred, Brooke feeling either as if she was about to melt or as if she’d already melted. Vanessa regarding her under a sultry, cat-eyed glare wasn’t helping. “Let’s skip the pleasantries, huh? You told me why you wanted to meet, so let’s do it.”

Brooke felt herself seize up. She physically couldn’t speak. Vanessa laughed, concerned, then took Brooke’s hand from across the table.

“Hey. Brooke Lynn,” she said softly, her eyes suddenly warm and caring. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come on so strong like that, that was my bad. I really want you to know that…whatever happens, we’re friends always, okay? I don’t want you to ever feel awkward with me because you know…we’re us. Alright?"

Vanessa’s words were like ointment on the wound that was Brooke Lynn’s mind. She took a deep breath, looked Vanessa in the eyes, and breathed out a laugh.

"Well obviously…we kissed."

"You kissed me,” Vanessa corrected her with a wink, Brooke wanting to die.

“Well…yes. So I just…wanted to know what we were doing. About…that,” Brooke stuttered, Vanessa raising an eyebrow at her from across the table.

“Is there anything to do?” she shrugged, and Brooke couldn’t believe how calm she was about all this. “It’s happened. We just carry on as normal.”

Brooke frowned deeply. “No, but…no. What if I don’t want to carry on as normal? What if I want that to happen again?”

Vanessa smiled, running a hand through her hair cockily. “Aww, was that lil’ session in the laserquest arena not enough for you, baby?"

Brooke felt her clit practically explode. Jesus. She could feel how much she was blushing. "Christ Vanessa, don’t-”

“Don’t what! I’m just sayin’,” she grinned flirtatiously, then faltered. “Sorry. Am I bein’ too much?"

"No, no, fuck. You’re never too much.”

“In the words of Luther Vandross,” Vanessa deadpanned, the two girls suddenly jumping as a waitress appeared at their table. Brooke ordered a lemonade, all her appetite gone, and Vanessa followed suit. There was a silence as both girls regarded each other.

“I meant what I said, girl. You are fuckin’ gorgeous,” Vanessa muttered, her voice low and making Brooke cross her legs.

“Fuck. So are you. That’s why I wanted to kiss you.”

“So you don’t want us to ignore what happened, then?” Vanessa offered, briefly thanking the waitress as their drinks got put down. Brooke shook her head.

“I just don’t want anything to change between us. I don’t want anything to be awkward. But I do…” Brooke paused and bit her lip, looking down at the table. “…want it to happen again. Because it was hot.”

She looked up at Vanessa, whose attempt at a smirk was turning into a full-blown smile. “It was. I’m glad you messaged me, girl, I was thinkin’ about it all weekend."

Brooke blushed and bit her lip. "Me too. So you feel the same then?”

Vanessa raised her glass. “To changing nothing. Except from kissing. Because that shit was good.”

Brooke laughed as they clinked their glasses together, all tension suddenly gone. They didn’t talk about it any more, but at the end of their date (meetup, Brooke chastised herself- they were still just friends, after all) Vanessa leaned in for a hug then raised her chin up to Brooke hopefully, and Brooke couldn’t stop herself from leaning down and meeting their lips, the second time feeling just as perfect as the first.

It had been difficult to find time to meet up that week, Vanessa getting hit with deadline after deadline, but they’d hardly ceased messaging each other. Most times it was standard conversation- how was your day, what have you been up to, things like that. Other times it was random observations.

Vanessa: i just saw a dog that was like 90% fluff i’m convinced it was a walking cloud how CUTE xxxx

or

Brooke: someone just walked into the library with an apple bong Vanj i wish i was making this up

or

Vanessa: Silky’s been blasting Lewis Capaldi for a solid twenty minutes because she burned her chicken dippers send help xxxx

But sometimes they were naughty and flirty and made Brooke scrunch her toes up and flail around in her bed in anticipation, part of her wishing she’d had the balls to discuss with Vanessa if their arrangement should include activities outside of kissing, a level up, she might say. It would usually be Vanessa that instigated them.

Vanessa: i keep thinking about the way you reacted when i grabbed your hips and i wish i’d been brave enough to do it outside Liezen xx

or

Vanessa: next time i’m gonna have my hair loose so you can tug it when you kiss me xxxx

Sometimes Brooke would be brave enough to send them herself, which would always get a rise out of Vanjie.

Brooke: You definitely had your hair in plaits that day on purpose didn’t you because you knew I like it when you do that

Vanessa: wait you like it when “i” do it or you like it when girls do it in general?? xxxx

Brooke: Don’t make me inflate your ego by deigning that with an answer

Vanessa: well don’t come for me when i know you wore that roll neck for the exact same reason xx

Brooke: Worked, didn’t it? Don’t think I didn’t notice you practically choke when you saw me

Vanessa: xxxxxxxx

The thing was, Brooke didn’t know how it had become a secret. She wanted to tell Yvie and Nina, but she couldn’t find the words, and she really didn’t want to make a big deal of it in case Vanjie got scared, particularly after she told her that she hadn’t told Silky and Akeria either. Brooke felt she was going to burst after the movie night, where Vanessa had stayed for one film longer than her flatmates and Brooke had “walked her home”, a.k.a. Vanessa had ordered an Uber and they’d kissed furiously against the wall of the stairwell as she waited for it, Brooke practically drifting back upstairs to her flat. She wondered a lot that night about how Vanessa would react if Brooke told her she wanted her to rail her so hard that her gynecologist would think she’d been in a car accident.

The time didn’t come until just over a week later- Brooke’s flat held a party for Nina finishing placement. It was a big one because as well as the usual gang there was lots of people that Nina knew from her various clubs and societies, not to mention most of her course friends- one of whom, Brooke and Yvie knew, Nina had been after for about six months solid. It had been hard for Brooke to get Vanessa on her own at first, but she wanted to so badly, the girl having turned up in a see-through pink plastic skirt and a white lace bodysuit that veered ever so close to indecent exposure territory, not that Brooke was complaining. As Silky was gathering a large crowd to prove to the masses that she could, in fact, down seven Jaegerbombs in a row without breaking a sweat, Brooke had taken Vanessa’s hand and led her to her bedroom. They came crashing through the door, Brooke slamming her against the wall and kissing her, the other girl smiling against her lips and Brooke being unable to stop herself from smiling back.

“W'should go back through,” Brooke muttered against Vanessa’s lips, the other girl whining needily. They were both that pleasantly tipsy stage just before the evening descended into drunkenness, and Brooke felt slightly liquidised as Vanessa pawed at her waist, exposed as a result of the black bralet Brooke was wearing.

“Mmh…want you so bad, Brooke,” Vanessa murmured against her neck, Brooke almost having a heart attack and doubting if she heard Vanessa correctly.

“What’s…that mean?” Brooke stumbled out, her words falling over each other. Fuck, maybe she was actually just drunk. Vanessa laughed and pulled away, heading towards the door.

“Y'know what the fuck it means, baby,” she smiled playfully, before hitching the top of her bodysuit up and leaving.

Brooke wanted to pour a large glass of icy water over herself. Okay. This was fine. Vanessa was just basically making it explicitly clear she wanted Brooke to fuck her, or she wanted to fuck Brooke, or most likely a combination of both one after the other multiple times. That wasn’t a big deal. At all. Brooke whined to herself in her empty room. The problem was that they were both at a party, with all of their friends, none of whom knew that her and Vanessa had even so much as kissed, and if they both slunk off together in the middle of the evening Brooke might as well have messaged the group chat with a big gif of “WE’RE ABOUT TO FUCK” in flashing neon lights. But Brooke didn’t really know what to do with that information now.

Dazed, she did the only thing she could really do- head back to the party and drink more. She weaved her way through the crowd and found Yvie and Scarlet. Brooke couldn’t decide if she found them adorable or vomit-worthy, and as they were both still very much in the honeymoon stage of their relationship, Brooke decided it was the latter. Yvie had weaved a protective arm around Scarlet’s waist and the other girl was kissing her cheek after pretty much every sentence she spoke. Well, Brooke decided as she stumbled over to them, if I’m not getting to kiss the girl I like at the party, then neither are you, assholes.

“Hey,” Brooke slurred, faltering as she leaned against their kitchen counter. “How’re you both.”

Scarlet looked at her with concern. “We’re good. How are you? Are you alright?”

“Yeah, you disappeared for a while,” Yvie said, her tone light but her eyes intense and questioning. Brooke didn’t like it.

“Well, I had to go vomit. Tactical, you know,” she lied easily, Scarlet wincing beside her.

“Classy,” Yvie said simply, shrugging. “Hey, Plastique’s just said she can thrash Nina at Mario Kart so they’re gonna play drunk driving. You wanna come watch?”

Brooke nodded, thinking that a seat would probably be good about now.

The rest of the party passed easily enough, Brooke hardly getting up for the rest of the evening and practically melting into the armchair, Yvie getting her cups of water to drink sporadically throughout the night. The volume of people dissipated until Brooke became aware it was just her, Yvie, Scarlet, Nina and Nina’s friend Monet, the one she’d been crushing on. It occurred to Brooke that she hadn’t seen Vanessa since they’d been in her bedroom, her heart hammering as she wondered if maybe she’d fucked the whole thing up between them.

She didn’t need to worry as at around one in the morning, Silky, Vanessa and Akeria wandered through to the living room to join the others.

“Heyy ladies!” Vanessa announced happily, still very much drunk and landing on top of Brooke with a thud. “Are we going out or what? What’s the plan?”

“If we go out I’ll die of alcohol poisoning,” Nina deadpanned, her speech slurred.

“We were gonna head home, Nina,” Akeria explained, eyeing Vanessa suspiciously. “Well. Me and Silk were. This bitch is three sheets to the wind, I don’t know what she’s doing.”

“I wanna stay here,” Vanessa pouted. “Can we play games?”

“On that note, bye bitch,” Silky rolled her eyes, her tone tired and weary and very un-Silky. “Get a taxi back. Or sleep on the couch here, I don’t know."

"Stayin’ over sounds nice,” Vanessa murmured into Brooke’s hair, a jolt shooting up Brooke’s spine. “Okay, girl, see you later. Love you.”

“Love you, ‘Nessa. Bye all. Congratulations, Nina. And Monet too,” Akeria shrugged, Nina smiling easily up at her and Nina’s friend following suit as the other two girls left.

“Let’s play games,” Vanessa insisted, Monet chuckling.

“Oh my God, I’m really properly at an afters, aren’t I?” she laughed, rising from her seat. “I’m down, but I’m playing with water. Anyone else?”

Scared that Vanessa might up and leave if there were no games, Brooke raised her hand. “Okay, yeah. Yvie, Scarlet?”

Yvie raised a weary head up from its position on Scarlet’s shoulder. “Depends what we’re playing.”

“Never have I ever,” Vanessa said instantly.

“Oh, Vanjie, come on. We’ve played that shit to death,” Nina laughed, shaking her head. “We know all there is to know about each other at this point.”

“Hey, I don’t! Could be fun,” Monet piped up, a little sparkle in her eye as she flicked her dark curls over her shoulder and sat down beside Nina much closer than she’d been before. “Find out all the nasty shit you get up to in your spare time, Miss West."

Nina gave Monet a shove as she laughed, her face resembling a Dulux colour chart of pinks. "Fine, ugh. Start the god damn game, Vanjie.”

Brooke took a second and looked around. Nina and Monet were dangerously close to getting with each other at the very least. Scarlet and Yvie were obviously together. And Vanessa was only one more drink away from detailing exactly what she wanted Brooke to do to her once they were alone. This could get messy.

“Okay, never have I ever…” Vanessa strung out the sentence, wiggling a little in Brooke’s lap and making her want to die. “…sent a sexy video.”

Monet, Scarlet and Yvie drank. Brooke saw Nina swallow hard and try to avoid looking at Monet.

“Oh, you two up to that shit already?” Vanessa swiped her finger in the air from Scarlet to Yvie, Scarlet rolling her eyes and laughing.

“No, Yvie’s still got that to look forward to,” Scarlet raised an eyebrow suggestively, Yvie spluttering a laugh and pulling her girlfriend closer.

“How 'bout you, Monet, who was yours for?” Vanessa asked insistantly, Monet leaning back casually so that she was resting her head against Nina’s chest. Nina looked as if she was about to go into cardiac arrest.

“Send them to whoever wants them,” she explained flirtatiously, running her tongue over her teeth. Nina broke her silence.

“Are you not super scared that someone could leak them to the teaching council one day and you’d lose your job?” she asked anxiously, Monet laughing softly as she reached up to Nina’s hair and wrapped a small lock around her finger.

“Aww, baby. You’re such a goody two shoes, it’s adorable,” Monet muttered, Brooke wondering if it was possible for Nina to turn any redder. Offended on Nina’s behalf and wanting to raise Monet’s opinion of her, Brooke opened her mouth.

“Okay, I got one,” Brooke said, her voice seeming all too loud in the silence of the room. “Never have I ever skinny dipped and then have it lead to sex.”

Brooke nearly choked when Vanessa drank as well as Nina, the room erupting in cries.

“Nina, oh my God!” Scarlet laughed, her mouth hanging open. “How did I not know this about you?”

“Always the quiet ones,” Brooke shrugged, laughing as Nina shot her a glare. Monet had turned back around and was looking at her with blown pupils.

“When the fuck did this happen, bitch?” she asked softly, Nina shyly telling the story she’d once told Brooke back in second year- when she’d befriended a tall, dark brunette who went only by Shuga on her family holiday to Spain, how Nina sneaked off nearly every day to go meet her, and how on the very last night Shuga had taken her to the beach, stripped off, dove into the sea and asked Nina to join her.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” Scarlet gasped once Nina was done, shifting around in Yvie’s lap. Monet had moved to cross her legs and was blinking slowly at Nina. Brooke almost wanted to laugh at the levels of estrogen and lust in the room. She’d wanted to subtly ask Vanessa about her experience but the game seemed to have moved on. There were a few tamer questions, during which all three sets of girls seemed to merge closer and closer towards each other, and then eventually the game ramped up again.

“Never have I ever bought anything from a sex shop,” Scarlet said. Brooke tried not to flush red as she drank, Yvie, Vanessa and Monet all following suit. Scarlet seemed shocked. “What the fuck? What did you guys all buy?”

There was a small silence. Brooke rolled her eyes and was the first to speak. “I mean, just my vibrator. Do we not all own vibrators in this room?"

"Well I ordered mine online so technically I didn’t get it from a shop,” Nina shrugged lightly, Scarlet’s face growing red. Yvie looked at her and laughed, squeezing her side.

“Aww, baby! Do you actually not have one?” she asked gently, Scarlet shaking her head and groaning.

“This is so fucking awkward, don’t roast me.”

“Scarlet, honey, it will change your life,” Monet insisted, crossing her legs the other way and shooting a playful side glance to Nina. “Best thing is when you use it on someone else and you just get to watch their eyes fuckin’ roll back into their skull.”

Brooke could’ve sworn she heard Nina curse under her breath, but she wasn’t sure. Yvie muttered something into Scarlet’s ear and she grew even more red. At this rate Brooke didn’t know how the room hadn’t combusted with all the tension. Looking up at Vanessa, she decided that if blatant flirting was good enough for the rest of them, it was good enough for her.

“What about you, bitch, what’ve you bought?"

Brooke bit her lip as Vanessa smiled slowly, stretching in Brooke’s lap and giving Brooke the perfect view of her chest straining against her bodysuit. "Hmm. Maybe you’ll get to find out one day."

"Yvie, what did you buy?” Nina asked incredulously, the other girl shrugging.

“Just bondage stuff,” she said nonchalantly, most of the room jumping as Scarlet suddenly choked on her drink.

“Do you wanna know what I bought, Nina?” Monet suddenly asked, the girls all looking at Nina who was looking at Monet with intrigue. She hummed an inquisitive response. Monet uncrossed her legs then crossed them again. “I’ll tell you if you let me stay over."

Brooke watched as Nina practically choked on her own tongue in her effort to give a reply. "Oh, uh, sure you can stay! There’s um, there’s that blanket and I can give you a pillow from my room and, uh…”

Brooke couldn’t watch Nina self-sabotage any longer. She looked to Yvie, both flatmates knowing exactly how many months Nina had been unable to take Monet’s name out of her mouth for. Yvie frowned and turned to Nina.

“Bitch, your bed is huge and it’s November. Monet’s gonna freeze to death in here,” she said simply, Nina’s mouth clamping shut in response. Brooke smirked at her.

“Yeah, and it’ll be way warmer if Monet just shares with you. Right, girl?” Brooke tilted her head to Monet inquisitively, the other girl’s eyes laughing.

“Oh well, uh. If you want to, you can share with me, but only if that’s not going to make you feel-” Nina began, cutting herself off as Monet wordlessly stood up, held out a hand to Nina and gently pulled her up off the sofa.

“Come and show me where I’m sleeping, then,” she said, her voice low and husky as she led Nina out the room. Brooke stared at them both in awe, snorting a laugh as Nina poked her head out at the girls just before she left, making a face as if she was screeching. As the door to the living room shut, Yvie turned to Brooke and they both began flailing, happy for their lovesick flatmate. As they calmed down, Yvie sighed heavily.

“Well, we better hit the hay too,” she shrugged, giving Scarlet a squeeze. Scarlet gave her a look of surprise as if she hadn’t been expecting Yvie to say that. Yvie seemed to clock it. “If you want to stay over, that is. You’re welcome to.”

Scarlet nodded without saying anything. There was a shift in atmosphere in the room- everyone was heading to bed and there seemed to be an unspoken agreement between Brooke and Vanessa that Vanessa was staying over in her bed. They got ready for bed in a sort of uncharacteristically awkward silence, Brooke trying not to look as Vanessa changed into the oversized t shirt that Brooke lent her to sleep in. As they both climbed into bed in the darkness, Brooke thought about saying something or doing something, but she felt as if the moment was gone. She was annoyed at herself. Just hours ago, Vanessa had practically begged her to fuck her, and now she’d clammed up all because Brooke hadn’t done anything about it. She lay frustrated in the darkness. As she stared up unblinkingly at the ceiling, there came a sudden sound through the walls coming from Nina’s room.

“Oh, fuck-”

Brooke froze. She’d definitely imagined that. This was definitely not happening.

“M'net, ah shit-”

Jesus Christ. If it had been any other situation, any other time, Brooke would have thumped on the walls to try and shut her up, but this was different in two ways. One, she knew how much Nina liked Monet and just how long she’d wanted this, so Brooke would be a bad friend if she told her to quiet down. Two, Vanessa was in bed beside her.

Brooke cast a glance to the girl lying next to her. She had her back turned but Brooke could see her breathing gently and steadily. She was probably asleep already. Brooke was suddenly jealous that she didn’t have to listen to this. A loud hybrid of a cry and moan came suddenly through the wall, and Brooke rolled her eyes. Suddenly, she heard a loud slap come from Yvie’s room.

No. This could not be happening.

Another slap, then a cry.  

“Ah, like that-” came through the walls.

Brooke squeezed her eyes shut tightly, as if that would do anything to affect her ears. Down the hall, there came a loud, breathy cry of “Yves, fuck!”, a loud shushing sound, then a giggle.

Brooke could hear the various moans, whines and gasps from her flatmates’ rooms like surround sound, and something inside her snapped. Oh, fuck this.

She laid a light finger on the small stretch of exposed skin at Vanessa’s spine and lightly stroked it. “V'nessa. You awake?”

The other girl stretched and slowly turned over in bed. “How can I not be when all this shit’s going on outside? It’s like tryin’ to sleep in a TV store but every TV is playing porn at full volume.”

Brooke laughed softly. She hadn’t taken her hand off Vanessa yet and was now stroking the next place that had become available as she’d turned around- her side, dangerously close to the top of her underwear that Brooke could just see peeking out from under the duvet. She had to say something now. She would explode otherwise. “Um, you said something earlier that I’ve been thinking about.”

There was a sudden glint in Vanessa’s eyes that made Brooke squeeze her thighs together. “About me wanting you?"

Brooke felt every single bit of moisture evacuate her mouth rendering it completely bone dry. "Uh, yeah. You did mean…you want us to fuck, right?"

Vanessa laughed softly, looking down momentarily then flicking her gaze back up to Brooke. "Pretty much, yeah.”

Brooke hadn’t stopped stroking Vanessa’s skin. She watched as the girl opposite her reached up a hand, took Brooke by the wrist, and lightly moved her fingers to the waistband of her lace underwear, then slowly moved them further. Brooke felt as if she could actually hear her heart. Another loud cry came through the wall.

Vanessa shuffled closer to Brooke and kept talking, her tone low and dark and making Brooke wonder how she was able to keep her hands (well, one of her hands) off her.

“This…” Vanessa whispered, Brooke swallowing and letting out a hiss as her fingers came into contact with her slick wetness. “…is how bad I want you."

Brooke crooked one of her fingers and found her clit, feeling the heat pulse between her own legs as Vanessa let out a small, content sigh. "Mmh, baby, please…”

Brooke lazily flicked her fingers against her, part of her completely convinced she was dreaming. “Please what, Vanessa?”

“Oh my God, say my name like that again,” the other girl threw herself back against the pillow. Brooke took her chance, throwing a leg over her waist and moving to straddle her. Vanessa’s eyes grew wide, and Brooke wondered why the fuck this had taken three years to happen when it was already the best sex she’d had in her life and they’d barely done anything yet. Brooke leaned in and kissed Vanessa hard, murmuring her name against her lips and then against her neck as she worked her clit and Vanessa writhed and moaned underneath her.

“Tell me what you want,” Brooke whispered, running her free hand up Vanessa’s stomach and underneath her t shirt, grazing a nipple with her fingers. Vanessa was panting, gasping for breath, with her hair all over her face and her juice shiny against her thighs, and it was the hottest thing that Brooke had ever seen in her life.

“Mmh…want you to fuck me…” Vanessa sighed, Brooke narrowing her eyes as she could tell she was holding something back. She watched as Vanessa squeezed her eyes shut and a pink blush became apparent on her face even through the only light in the room came from the streetlamps outside. Vanessa suddenly spoke again, her voice quiet but still audible. “…Mami.”

There was a small pause as Brooke registered exactly what had been said, then everything seemed to happen all at once. Her brain short-circuited, she clamped a hand over Vanessa’s mouth, and she slammed two fingers into her hard, causing Vanessa to cry out and rendering Brooke’s hand on her mouth effectively useless. At the same time, she heard a moan of Monet’s name from one wall and the hum of a vibrator from the other.

Let’s give these bitches a show.

Brooke woke up eight hours later, completely naked and entangled in the girl beside her. Her heart thumped as the events of last night flooded back into her mind, finally understanding how Plastique had gone at it with Ariel four times without tiring as Brooke had ripped one, two, three orgasms out of Vanessa in between Vanessa eating her out once, then later again because it had been so good the first time.

Jesus Christ.

Brooke only realised she’d said it out loud when Vanessa lazily turned around in her arms, fixing her with a look that was both cheeky and guilty.

“Good morning,” Vanessa spoke, her voice dry and cracked from its first use of the day. “Am I interrupting your morning prayers or…?”

“No, the goddess I worship is in bed with me completely naked and definitely thinking about last night,” Brooke deadpanned, quickly wondering if it had been a cheesy line but relaxing as Vanessa giggled softly.

“Last night…happened,” she replied, her eyebrows raised. Brooke immediately found herself being plunged into panic. Fuck. The whole thing had been a terrible mistake that had ruined everything between them and- “Brooke. I can hear you overthinking.”

“Sorry,” Brooke sighed, throwing a hand over her eyes and rubbing at her face, embarrassed. “Why change the habit of a lifetime.”

“How was last night for you?” Vanessa asked lightly, her voice seeming entirely too loud in the quiet of the morning.

“Uh. Fucking amazing, to be honest. How was-”

“Yeah, so good,” Vanessa nodded and instantly agreed, Brooke’s heart soaring but still hesitant just in case there was a but to come. Instead, Vanessa brought the covers up over her chest and squirmed. “I knew it, by the way. Told you you talk dirty."

Brooke sat up on her elbows and fixed her with a glare. "Oh yeah? From the girl who was calling me Mami? I’m not letting you away with that, bitch.”

Vanessa threw her head back and laughed, her cheeks turning pink and making Brooke’s heart swell. How could she manage to be both completely adorable and the hottest person alive? “I mean, you liked it, so…”

“Shut up.”

Vanessa laughed, Brooke’s heart giving a jump as she rested her head on Brooke’s tummy and wrapped her arms around her waist. There was a small lull, a comfortable silence where Brooke was almost convinced Vanessa might have fallen asleep again. She reached for her phone on the bedside table. There were a number of messages on the “Flat Chat”- the group chat she shared with Yvie and Nina.

Nina: Guys please wake up!!!!

Nina: Please!!!

Nina: I think I’m having a heart attack!!!

Yvie: no i think you’ve just been fucked to death girl

Yvie: how was your night sister sister xo

Yvie: sounded as if it was good xo

Nina: Yvie please we all know I don’t give details

Nina: But it was soooooooo gooooooood

Nina: I’m a mess

Nina: I thought she was flirty with me normally I was not prepared for what she would be like in bed

Yvie: get it girrrrrrrrl

Nina: The best thing though

Nina: After we were done she asked me if I wanted to go on a date with her today

Nina: And she made me a cup of tea before she left this morning like ughhhhh she’s so sexy and adorable and sweet and hot help me i have way too many feelings

Yvie: how many of those feelings are in ur pussay xo

Nina: You’re gross

Yvie: i’m so happy for u angel

Nina: Thank you baby!!!!

Nina: Is Scarlet still here?

Yvie: yeah she stayed over xo

Nina: Omg

Yvie: yes xo

Yvie: u know who else stayed over xo

Yvie: and who is not on the sofa xo

Yvie: Brooke I can see ur reading all these messages xo

Brooke felt the tiniest bit sick. She could feel her stomach churning. These girls were her friends- her best friends, she told them everything. She had kept this from them for longer than she’d kept anything from them before, really. But looking down at Vanessa with her hair splayed across her stomach, Brooke’s heart gave a throb. She didn’t want her friends to try and make some big deal out of what was happening, to make fun of them both and try and make Vanessa staying over some big gross thing. Brooke frowned as she typed back.

Brooke: Yeah Vanessa stayed with me because she’d be cold otherwise

Brooke: Why do you guys always try to make shit like this all gross when it’s really not

Nina: Brooke nobody’s doing that honey

Yvie: um because we heard you fucking through the walls u dumbass?

Brooke: You definitely heard wrong because nothing happened

Yvie: so Nina and Monet were the ones yelling your name, yeah?????

Nina: Brooke it’s okay to admit it it’s cute!!!

Brooke: Oh my God nothing fucking happened

Brooke: What is wrong with you guys

Yvie: ahahahahahahaha fuck you bitch

Nina: Guys

Yvie: i fucking know you got with Vanjie at my birthday

Brooke froze. Deny, deny, deny.

Brooke: That’s bullshit

Brooke: Just because you’re happy with Scarlet and you get to be disgusting with her doesn’t mean everyone around you is suddenly together Yvie

Yvie: DISGUSTING?????

Nina: She didn’t mean that Yvie

Brooke: That’s not what I meant

Yvie: actual do not speak to me today Brooke i’m serious

Yvie: glad you feel like you can tell your friends stuff when it happens though thanks for making us feel special xo

Yvie: we didn’t want to know that you finally got with the girl you’ve been behaving like a total fucking drip around for three fucking years why would we we’re just your friends xo

Brooke blinked at her phone, her stomach tight and clenched. Yvie was overreacting. She would be fine by the evening. Had Brooke been a dick to not tell her friends about her and Vanessa? She tried to think about if Yvie didn’t tell her about Scarlet or Nina didn’t tell her about Monet. No- she wouldn’t be upset, she would respect their privacy and their feelings and their right to tell her whenever they wanted to. Yvie was being selfish. Brooke let out a frustrated hiss, anger building in her veins. Vanessa suddenly looked up at her, her eyes dark and inquisitive and her gorgeous face setting into a frown. It made Brooke’s anger dissipate by about a half.

“You okay?” she asked her, Brooke simply nodding in response. Vanessa brought her arms up and folded them on top of Brooke’s stomach, propping her head up. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Do you want this to happen again?”

Brooke looked at Vanessa’s face. It didn’t seem to be a loaded question. Come to think of it, Vanessa always seemed to be very upfront about her feelings. It made Brooke feel comfortable giving an honest answer.

Making her best attempt to fuck Vanessa into the mattress seemed like it might be a good outlet for her frustration. Brooke made sure to look Vanessa in the eyes as she blinked slowly and replied to her. “I want it to happen…right now, actually."

Brooke ran her tongue over her bottom lip as she watched Vanessa smile and slowly slide down to straddle Brooke, kissing her stomach and then her hipbone. Brooke shivered and parted her legs slightly.

"Well,” Vanessa murmured, running two fingers down Brooke’s chest, then her stomach, and then stopping them between Brooke’s legs. “That can definitely be arranged."

And as Brooke tipped her head back against the pillows and sighed, she decided to be deliberately loud.

If nothing else, it would piss Yvie off.

#rpdr fanfiction #branjie #scyvie #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #yvie oddly #scarlet envy #lesbian au #university au #college au #nina west #akeria davenport #background ninex #silky nutmeg ganache #plastique tiara #monet x change #ortega #not nineteen forever #n19f #s11

[wumpusandzandii]

Science and Progress: Chapter One

TMNT Human!AU Storyline for Donatello x Lily

Chapter One

Being part of a large family was a blessing and a curse. Everyone seems to fill a roll, and the family rolls on like a machine, sometimes well-oiled, sometimes like a train wreck, depending on the day. When that roll is the one that has family members asking for help, whether it be answering questions or fixing things, the feeling is amplified. There is a sense of validation with being able to help, to sometimes have answers to problems before they even became an issue. On the flip side of that coin, it can mean that simple problems easily solved by common sense or a quick Google search are often presented, and pile up over time.

Such was Donatello’s day, and it wasn’t even noon yet. Their morning training had been over for a while, but there were still hours to go before their afternoon classes. Splinter had left on one of his walks, and the home situation had devolved quickly thereafter. All he wanted to do was sit at his computers and get some research done on possible upgrades to his holo, but it was nearly impossible with his brothers in the same space. Leo and Raph were arguing, which was not at all a shocking surprise, but certainly a weary annoyance. Mikey had taken the opportunity to play his video games at full volume without his headphones on so he “could still talk to everyone,” which, with the other two bickering, meant talking to *him*. He tried keeping his headphones on to tune it all out, but Mikey had started throwing things when he didn’t answer, so the headphones only caused more trouble than they were worth.

“You’re missing the entire point, we need you here more,” Leo tried to reason, his voice as strained as his patience.

“Jesus Christ, Leo, I’m a phone call away. I have my gear, it’s not that far,” Raph snapped back loudly. “I’m not a fuckin’ kid.”

“I’m not saying you are! I’m saying we need you here, ready to go, just in case. It made sense while Stacey was healing up, but she’s in her new place and Donnie has it all set up. It’s been months. It’s time to get back to normal,” Leo argued, and Donnie winced to himself. He’d been waiting for that bomb to drop their entire argument, and there it was. If there was one surefire way to set Raph off ever, it was to bring her up in any kind of negative aspect. Surely Leo knew that, had to have known it wouldn’t gain him any ground, so he wasn’t sure why he took that route.

“Maybe it is my new normal,” Raph hissed, his voice lowering to dangerous levels.

“Hey Donnie,” Mikey piped up over the loud crashing and sound effects of his game. “Do you know if there are any new texture packs or skins I can add to this? Like, it’d be totally awesome if I could put a different skin over the boss, make killing him funny. Like a Kardashian, boom, the lips explode or something.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose and resting his elbows against the desk, Donnie sighed heavily. “I don’t know, Mikey,” he said in a long suffering tone. “Why don’t you look it up?”

“Because you’re right therrrre,” he begged, looking over the back of the couch with a pout and batting his eyes. “Hey, maybe you could show me how to do it? Then we could make a Shredder skin or something, crush his helmet against his crotch.”

Donnie couldn’t think of much else he’d have less patience for right at that moment, than trying to teach Mikey how to code, let alone create skins. “It’s not quite that simple-”

“I’m gonna spend as much time as I damn well please with her, and there ain’t a damn thing you can do about it! You ain’t the boss of my life!”

“No, but I am the leader of this time, and not having you available puts everyone else at increased risk and responsibility, just so can go sleep with-”

“Don’t you dare fuckin’ finish that sentence, Leo, or I’m gonna finish it for you.”

“If it’s not that simple, maybe you could just do it for me? I could totally write a list of people or characters that it would be cool to have skins of, and then you could just bleep bloop do your thing, no trouble!”

“Mikey, I have more important things to do-”

“Is that a threat?” Leo snarled.

“If it needs to be.”

“What could be more important than creating a Kraang mega boss that I could shoot to pieces? I mean, just think about the glory and beauty of it!”

“Fucking Merlin’s beard!” Donnie cursed, shoving his rolling chair back away from his desk and lurching up onto his feet. “What the hell is wrong with all of you? Can’t you just be normal or at the very least *quiet* for five damn minutes? I understand the hashi now, and why dad leaves to go walk by himself. I used to think it was for reflection and meditation, but it’s gotta be to GET AWAY FROM YOU!”

Storming into his room, he grabbed up his messenger bag, stuffed his laptop into it angrily. Pulling on the first hoodie he found, he slung the bag on and marched out of his room, straight towards the door. The room had fallen silent, he noted with sardonic irony.

“Hey, where are you going?” Mikey asked, sounding a little hurt.

“To the library, where they *force* people to be quiet!” he snapped, slamming the door behind him.

Forgoing any public form of transportation, Donnie decided to walk to the library. It was a decent distance away, but not so much to be excessive. In any case, he figured giving himself time to cool off before he got there was probably a good idea. It was difficult to focus when he was that agitated, and it would simply ruin the entire reason he was leaving in the first place. In further thought, he figured it was probably a good thing to get out, it might give him a different perspective on ideas than usual. The fresh air certainly didn’t hurt anything, either.

Upon arriving, he skipped up the steps, feeling lighter already than he had upon leaving. It had been far too long since he’d been in the library, perused the shelves, let the scent of the pages and old leather bindings suffuse his senses. Walking a little taller as he pushed through the front doors, instantly feeling the atmosphere change for the better. He couldn’t help but smile to himself, taking a deep relieving breath and wandering off to check the shelves.

Time could either stand still in the library or pass by a shooting star, quickly disappearing if oblivious to the large grandfather clock at the top of the stairs. Nearly using all of her spare time to be there, it was slowly becoming a second home, along with the lecture halls and computer labs at the university. Her own bed now a little foreign as she rarely had time to spare even on sleeping. Surrounded by folders and books, countless scrap pieces of paper and notebooks, Lily busied herself away with her coursework. Chasing the always just out of reach dream to be a veterinarian, she found herself chasing her tail to catch up, especially after joining the semester late due to moving. New York was the city of dreams, or so she was told, and moving there had been a huge decision. One she was hoping she wouldn’t regret. Finding her groove that day while listening to music quietly in her headphones, her focus solely on her work, she happily bobbed away in her seat. Her bright red hair bounced against her shoulders, loosely sectioned into pigtails with ribbon that matched her pale grey cardigan. It wasn’t a cold day, but the large hall had a chill running through it, meaning wearing just a dress was a poor idea and needed something across her shoulders to keep the chill off her pale skin. Being a frequent visitor as of late, Lily could happily leave her stuff unattended on the table knowing the staff flitting around amongst the endless rows of bookshelves would keep an eye on it for her.

Tapping her pen against her hand, she pulled the cap off the end and clicked it back on, doing so in time with the beat before sitting back. Adjusting her glasses with a gentle push of her fingertips, she nodded to herself, happy with what she had just written before moving to stand up. Thankful her mother was a seamstress, she plopped her phone into her skirt pocket, neatening the frills before pushing her chair in, careful not to make any noise since she couldn’t fully hear herself with headphones on. Checking her notes again quickly, she tottered off into the maze of shelves, beginning her hunt for a specific unit in the science section. Luckily she knew the cover of the book well, but that didn’t stop it being a grande task, especially at her height. Even the slight heel on her shoes didn’t give her much advantage. Pouting she regretted putting the book away earlier, knowing it was likely put back on a higher shelf, making it even harder for her to find.

As Donnie perused for books, a few texts already beneath his arm, he found himself with company in the next aisle. Well over a foot shorter than himself, especially once he noted the high heels that were lifted off the floor as she ran a finger over bindings well over her head, he could tell she was having some difficulty. He walked up slowly, just in case she didn’t notice him with her headphones in. Her red hair bobbed against her shoulders as she dropped back down onto her heels, hands on her hips as she sighed heavily. A bright, open, kind face greeted him as she started to look around, and he gave her a little finger wave before pointing up at the shelves above her hesitantly.

Tugging out her earbuds, she fussed with stuffing them into a skirt pocket before looking back up at him shyly. “I’m so sorry to bother you, but would you mind helping me get a book?”

“Not at all,” he responded kindly, smiling softly. She was adorable, like a little pixie wandering the science shelves. It sounded like the beginning of a fantasy novel. “Which one are you looking for?”

“Oh thank you,” she sighed in relief, her nose crinkling her freckles as she thought. “It was ‘Germ-free Life and Gnotobiology.’ I’m so sorry to ask, you probably get that a lot, being so tall.”

“Oh, I don’t mind,” he admitted, for the first time that day feeling genuinely helpful and not simply convenient. Scanning the bindings, he quickly found it, scanning the cover before passing it down to her. “Are you doing research for laboratory work?”

“Oh no,” she answered, taking the book gently and hugging it against her chest. “I mean, thank you. But no, it’s a research paper for veterinary class. It’s looking over the way gnotobiotes are born, raised and taken care of in laboratory settings. Um, specifically how their immune systems are poor if they stay there, but some animals like pigs have better immune systems if they’re born in the germ-free environment and introduced to the outside environments. But oh my gosh. I’m so sorry, you probably didn’t need that much information just for pulling a book down. I get carried away.”

Chuckling a little, he couldn’t help but relate with her, and felt bad that she was apologizing for something he did himself on the daily. At the same time, the way she blushed made her even more cute. “I do that sometimes, too. Please don’t apologize, I actually find the topic very interesting. I’ve done some research on it myself.”

“Really?” she asked, her bright eyes going wide and seeming to light up. “What for?”

Realizing he hadn’t thought it through entirely, Donnie struggled with wondering if it would seem pretentious to admit ‘just because.’ Rubbing the back of his neck, he shrugged slightly, answering, “Personal research? I found another text that went into great detail, and wait, you know what? It was published more recently than that one, and it might have more relevant information for you.”

Hastily, he scanned the shelves, trying to remember where he had found it. “Ah!” he proclaimed, plucking off the shelf victoriously, bringing it back to her. “Gnotobiotics. They go into greater detail about inflammatory bowel diseases and intestinal immunity.”

“I didn’t know about this one, thank you,” she murmured, looking over it carefully, seemingly dwarfed by the two textbooks.

“If it’s useful! I’m not sure. I just remembered it,” Donnie stammered, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “If not, I can just stick it back up for you.”

Getting caught in trying to memorize the name of the author, she turned back up to him with wide eyes before hugging the book to herself. “Oh no no! I’ll definitely look at it too! Just so many names and words to remember now...” she chirped, adjusting the rather large books in her delicate hands. “The more the merrier I guess!” she added, swaying a little as she did, trying not to seem awkward but making herself look even more so by doing so. Catching the way he looked down at her, an endearing smile on his lips, she looked down at her feet. “Thank you. Sorry again for distracting you from your browsing.” Knowing her pale skin was igniting into a deep blush, she wanted to just hide away in her coursework again but couldn’t move her feet that were now cemented to the floor. “It’s really no trouble, honest, I haven’t even gotten an idea as to what I’m looking for myself yet.”

Not knowing how to excuse herself without seeming rude or just plain weird, she stammered, trying to think of something. As much as running out of any form of social interaction was her usual, keeping occupied with research and studying, something about the kindness and warmth in his eyes made her want to try. Maybe actually talking to someone and making friends wouldn’t be so bad. It’d be a welcome distraction. Maybe he could even help her. “Uhm... are you a student too?” Glancing at his bag and noticing he had some books in his hands, Lily couldn’t help but wonder now his reasoning for being there, if he had said he hadn’t an idea for something to read. Maybe it was just for personal enjoyment, maybe he was studying something similar to her. The thought of having someone to study with brought a smile to her lips again, her cheeks a rosy red that nearly matched her hair as she politely awaited his answer.

“No, not exactly,” he answered with a nervous chuckle. Looking at the books around him, he wondered if maybe he had found what he needed to after all. Talking to someone outside of his family, actually face to face couldn’t hurt anything. After all, he’d already done a decent amount of research on the topic she was studying, maybe he could help out, or at least give her someone to bounce ideas off of. If that was even something she was looking for, and not just a way out of an awkward conversation. “I do a lot of freelance work, for various people and companies. It never hurts to keep up to date on research and well… I guess it kinda makes me sound like a horrible nerd, but I actually enjoy it.”

Smiling up at him through her eyelashes, she shook her head. “No, I don’t think that makes you a horrible nerd at all!” she assured him, rocking back on her heels. “Maybe just a very good one?”

Laughing, he ran a hand through his hair, gesturing back at the books in her arms. “Well, I already did a fair amount of that research, maybe I could save you some time? If you want. If you prefer to do your studying in private, I completely understand that.”

“I would *love* some help,” she answered, her shoulders sagging a little with visible relief. “I’ve just been swamped with this course load. I feel like I’m always playing catch up, you know?”

“I think that’s the nature of research, to be frank. Do you already have your stuff set up, or should we find somewhere suitable?”

“Just over here, I left my things. Thank you so much for offering to help… I’m so sorry, I think I forgot to get your name?”

Holding out his hand, he grasped hers in a delicate handshake, surprised at just how tiny it was against his own. “Donatello,” he offered, tipping his head down towards her in a semi-bow, for some reason feeling it was the thing to do. “And to whom do I have the pleasure of meeting?”

“Lilian, but please call me Lily, I don’t like my grandma sounding name.” Giggling as she attempted to give his hand a firm squeeze, she managed to give him eye contact for more than just a few seconds this time.

Tilting her head at him once she took back her hand, needing it to support the large books against her chest, she hummed in thought, narrowing her eyes a little. “Donatello? Like after the Italian artist? Well, of course...I mean there aren’t many Donatello’s..” Giggling again to herself, she grinned up at him, delighted by the sound of him giggling with her. “Well, you’re not wrong. Yes, I am named after him, shame I don’t have the artist talent to go with it.”

Unable to stop herself from smiling up at him, she was losing track of time, forgetting almost about the books she held in her dainty arms or why she was even in the science section anymore. “We can’t have it all, I’m sure you’re talented with something else instead, maybe you’re a master at chess? Who knows!”

Hearing him snort as he laughed was the highlight of her day, her week, her entire year. Her own laugh went higher, joining him until he had to push up his glasses on to his nose. If it wasn’t for the sharp ‘shh’ that came from behind her, Lily would have worked on another way to make him laugh, entirely enamoured with his smile and the light flush of pink across his cheeks and nose.

Jolting a little, she spun around to see the head Librarian, an elderly lady sat at the front desk, scowling at her. “Lilian, this is the first time I’ve ever had to ask you this, but please be quiet. Take your friend and giggle somewhere else.” Lowering her head a little in shame, she mouthed a sorry silently at the lady. Luckily she didn’t take it to heart, smiling and shaking her head at the two of them before waving them off.

Getting to know Lily since she visited so often, the Librarian learnt that she must have not had many friends, or any given the amount of times she saw her reading and working alone. It brought warmth to her heart seeing her with someone, especially a boy similar to her age and clearly with similar interests. Chuckling softly to herself, she made sure to keep an eye on the two of them, curious to see if anything developed of it.

Motioning for Donnie to follow her, she lead him back over to her spot at the large oak tables, gesturing for him to sit at the head just across from her. Careful not to let the books drop heavily against the tabletop, she winced as she sat down, neatening her skirt out before looking over to him like a scolded puppy. “I’m so sorry about that, I’m so embarrassed...such a bad first impression….I promise I’m not a troublemaker..” she whispered, leaning in as she spoke so she was sure he could hear her.

Sitting down after she had seated herself, he waved her off with a smile, swinging his bag into the chair on the other side of himself. She was such a genuine breath of fresh air after his brothers, and their genuine trouble making. It was hard to believe she was genuinely as adorable and sweet as she was, especially in a city like New York that seemed to churn out hard people, people born in trenches and always ready for a fight. “Don’t be embarrassed, it’s been a long time since I got clucked at by a librarian, usually for arguing out loud with a book.”

Covering her mouth as she giggled, he felt himself beaming. Talking with people in general had never been his forte, let alone women, but something about her made it easy. He felt like an entirely different person sitting there with her, and yet more himself than he could remember feeling in a long time. Even with his family, he always felt like the odd man out, his sense of humor awkward and often not understood or appreciated by his brothers.

Quietly, she angled her syllabus towards him along with her notes, written neatly in small, precise cursive. She explained the current assignment requirements, occasionally smoothing her skirt as she talked. Her organization skills were impressive, and she clearly had a solid grasp on the work. To be honest, he sincerely doubted she honestly needed the help, and was likely more of an overachiever like himself, never content with “good enough” and wanting to put forth the best quality possible. He went through it with her, making sure to point out that she had much of the important information already, and flipping through the texts to show her what she still needed. She had few questions, following along readily, and the questions that she did have were clever and insightful.

“I think you’re going to be an incredible veterinarian,” he admitted once they had gotten through a large section of her work. He wasn’t even sure how much time had passed, and for once, he had no inclination to check. “You seem very empathic and you understand the work well. Are you from around here? I can’t say you’re like any native New Yorker I’ve ever met.”

Smiling sweetly at his compliment, Lily looked down at her notepad, bashfully tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear as she did. “Thank you, that means a lot…” Still adorning a rosy complexion due to his presence and encouraging nature, she felt that maybe he’d just assume she was always that pink in the cheek, given she hadn’t stopped blushing the entire time she had met him. Maybe it was just the colour of her hair making it stand out more. At his question of her origin, she rose her head and grinned happily. Shaking her head, she tamed a giggle, still aware of how much noise she was making. “No, actually, I recently moved here a few months ago from Canada. I used to live in Denmark, when I was young - my family is from there. Hence the uhm….red hair…” Rocking side to side, making her hair bounce on her shoulders a little, she mimicked his amused grin.

“My dad works for a company that’s very demanding, moves us around a lot. I had to hold off university for a while because of it, so as always, I’m playing catch up. It’s probably why I don’t have many friends either..” Laughing awkwardly, trailing it off to try and stop her smile fading but failed when she added, “..or any friends for that matter. I keep to myself a lot.” Tapping her pen against her papers, she shook her head a little after a short pause before looking up at him, forcing back on her smile. “How about you? Hailing from Italy?” Giggling, she gently poked at his arm with the capped end, hoping she hadn’t dropped the mood.

Looking down at the pen she had poked him with, he considered what she had said. How many times had his family harassed him for not having enough friends, not getting out enough? Not that he minded keeping to himself, but he just couldn’t imagine someone as bright and cheerful as herself, alone. “I’m not nearly as interesting,” he chuckled with a shrug. “New York, born and raised… raised by my adoptive father, though. My biological parents died in a car accident while I was still in utero, and he was to have been my godfather.”

“Oh my gosh,” she gasped, putting a dainty hand over her mouth in shock. She looked genuinely upset about it, and he had a brief moment of regret of being so upfront about it. He simply viewed it as a fact, having come to terms with it when he was quite young and insisted his father tell him. It hadn’t taken long for him to understand that he and his brothers, especially Raph and Mikey, were not biologically related. “I’m so sorry.”

“Please, don’t be sorry, it’s entirely okay. I was raised in a loving, nurturing environment,” he explained, pushing up his glasses. “I have three brothers, they’re all adopted as well. It’s chaotic sometimes, but that’s family, right?”

“I guess so,” she agreed, her cheeks continuing to be as pink as ever as she shuffled papers around nervously. “I think you’re probably a lot more interesting than you think you are.”

It was his turn to blush again, running his hands through his hair. He was so used to people telling him to shorten whatever he had to say, to make it “English” or simply ignoring that he even existed that the thought was foreign. It was so rarely that he genuinely connected with people, and when he did, it always seemed to be a professor or scientist across the country or even out of the country, their conversations strictly through the digital realm.

“Well,” he said slowly, leaning forward against the table. “I can’t imagine you being a loner or keeping to yourself.”

Slowly packing away her papers, tucking them neatly inside her notepad and marking pages with sticky notes in her newly acquired research books, Lily listened to him intently. Glancing over at him, she smiled, although it’s cheerful glow had faded a little.

“Unfortunately, it’s the truth. I don’t get out much, because of work but...mostly I just choose not to..” she started quietly, not so much from needing to be but more she felt a little down about it, realising how sad it must sound. “I’m not one for going out, drinking or otherwise, the only place other than here or my dorm room is a Starbucks, maybe.”

Closing up her last book after putting her pens away into her bag with the rest of her equipment, she sat neatly up right, perking up again with a bright smile. “Heh, speaking of ...let me buy you a coffee or something? As a thank you for helping me and putting up with me nattering at you for so long...and as a sorry for getting us hushed at.” Shuffling her seat backwards, she stood up, making sure all of her skirt was down and not tucked up in anyway. Shouldering her satchel, brushing her hair away from the strap before taking the full weight of it, wincing a little even when she prepared herself for it. Her mother had always told her if her hair was any longer, she’d fall over, too frail and delicate to carry her own weight sometimes. It didn’t help that Donnie dwarfed her even more.

“Oh, no no, there’s no need for that. I appreciate the offer but-...”

“Actually! I changed my mind. I’m buying you a coffee and you can’t say no.” Once he was stood up, she made sure to give him the most stern look she could, but stuck her tongue out when he looked a little taken back by her order. As his lips curved into a smile, chuckling a little, she had to drop her eyes, looking down at her feet bashfully. “I-I mean...that’s if you’re not….uhm….busy...or want to, that is…”

The sudden surge of confidence she had to tell him what she wanted to do disappeared as quickly as it appeared. He simultaneously gave her confidence and took her breath away, unable to think of a coherent sentence while also giving her all the words under the sun to speak with.

“I’d love to,” he admitted earnestly, hopelessly smiling at how incredibly adorable she was. There wasn’t a fiber in his being that would’ve been able to say no to her, even if he had wanted to. He almost felt grateful for his brothers being so annoying that they drove him from his normally hermit-like behaviors to get out of the house. “But just because I’m enjoying your company, not because I agree that you owe me any kind of thanks or apologies, because you most certainly do not.”

Nodding, she smiled up at him while she fidgeted with the strap of her bag. He wished he was quicker, more smooth like his brothers with social behaviors, especially with women, and would’ve offered to take the bag that must’ve been heavy on her tiny frame. At the same time, he didn’t want to insult her by having her take it off to hand to him, just in case. “I suppose that’s fair enough,” she answered, leading the way out of the library. “Is there a particular place you enjoy?”

Laughing as he held the front door open for her, he shook his head, squinting at the bright sunlight after the muted tones of the library. “My brothers say I’d hook myself up to an IV drip of coffee if I had my way,” he answered, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. “And they’re probably right. I pretty much live on the stuff, I don’t tend to be very picky about where it originates.”

“I’d probably hover off the ground if I had that much,” she giggled. He found himself enamored with the way her bright, doe-like eyes sparkled in the sunshine. “There’s a nice little shop just a couple of blocks down though, they have a lovely tea selection, too.”

“I will absolutely defer to your more refined judgement, then.” He listened carefully as she explained her favorite kinds of tea for different occasions or situations as they walked, cataloging the information in his mind for later use. If there was a later use, he reminded himself, keenly aware that he ventures into being social usually didn’t last, especially not when it was women. Still, he found himself hopeful with her, she was different in so many ways, and conversation with her was surprisingly easy. Not once had he noticed her eyes glazing over with boredom or confusion, or had she expressed any desire to end the conversation as quickly as possible to “get away.”

“Here we are!” she chirped, gesturing to the cozy little shop, and he took one long stride to move ahead of her just enough to get the door, gesturing for her to walk through. She giggled, giving him a little curtsy before leading the way in, the rich aroma of coffee swirling out into the air of sidewalk after her.

#science and progress #chapter one #tmnt fanfiction #human!tmnt #human!au #donatello #donnie #lily #Donnie x lily #stories #fanfic #wumpusinthetardis #zandiiangelspit #wumpusandzandii

[storytaeme]

eau de résistance - yoonkook

Yoongi has an existential crisis after he devirginized an adorable freshman who also happens to be his fan. Safe to say, it’s a little hard to avoid falling for someone as cute as Jeongguk. 

(alternative title: baby, f a love song, i need you to say it)

▸ Elements: Romance, Angst, Smut  |  College AU, Interns AU

▸ Word Count: 13,017 words

▸ A/N: After some major fuck ups on my end, I decided to just post this fic up here instead of ao3! Based on a thread I made a while back for yoonkook week :D title from stay frosty royal milk tea by fob just cause I can never title

Out of all the horrible mornings that Yoongi has been through (and that was a lot), this was perhaps the worst one of all. There was something about the crushing realization of a mistake that had his heart clawing against his chest, the undeniable permanence of a consequence that one had to accept in the wake of such a grand error, that made him want to fling himself out a window and backflip off a cliff into a pit of molten lava.

“Joon, I think I might have devirginized someone.”

“What the fuck?” Namjoon sputtered, milk dribbling down his chin and his lips quivering like an earthquake. Yoongi would’ve laughed and commemorated the sight with his phone if he weren’t so busy having an existential crisis that crumbled all he’s ever known about himself.

“I might have devi—”

Namjoon shook his head, “I heard you the first time around, I’m just not sure why you’re telling me this detail to your sexual life. Or why this ‘devirginizing’ is of any importance to my breakfast, which looks kinda gross now thanks to you.”

“You are aware of my rule.”

A snort slipped past the younger’s lips as he rolled his eyes and focused on spooning more cereal into his mouth. “Right, right, no virgins because apparently everyone will fall in love with your magic dick that can woo those who encounter it.” Sometimes he couldn’t believe Namjoon was an honor student with a perfect GPA when he made duck faces with puckered lips.

“Listen,” Yoongi hissed, jerking his index finger in his roommate’s direction, “you know it’s bad. You know.”

“I know how bad it was, but dude,” Namjoon gave him a look, “not everyone’s gonna think you’re whipped for them just because you deflowered their innocence and took away a piece of their soul and goodness from the path of Jesus Christ.”

Yoongi squeezed his eyes shut and massaged his temple. “I don’t know why I bother talking to a preacher who lost his virginity to a sugar daddy at age eighteen. I forgot.”

“Shut the fuck up, do not judge me for my life decisions. I was doing it for investment in future endeavors, in other words, college.”

“You finished off that allowance in the first week by binging on vodka to celebrate your getting a sugar daddy!”

Namjoon glared at him because he clearly had made a solid argument. “That’s beside the point.” That was exactly the point. “Anyway, tell me more about this person. Do I know them? Are they hot? I don’t mind taking seconds if they’re solid in the sheets.”

“First of all, you’re fuckin’ gross,” Yoongi offered him a look of unadulterated disgust, which was how he perceived Namjoon most of the time anyway. “Second, he’s a freshman.”

“Oh so like you.”

“Undergraduate freshman.”

Namjoon let out a whistle and wiggled his eyebrows, sticking his tongue out lewdly, “You like those ones, don’t you, hyungie? Fresh face, wide-eyed, perky asses ready to shake.”

“Biggest eyes I’ve ever seen,” Yoongi muttered, his mind instantly whirring back to the night before. Which was an incredibly stupid idea because he was well on his way to a raging boner with the memory alone.  

“So?” the younger shrugged, “you don’t see undergrads a lot. You’ll probably never see this kid again. Also, I thought you said you weren’t gonna fuck with undergrads this time around. Wild kids those ones. We’re getting too old for this.”

Despite the urge to argue that Namjoon was still, in fact, an undergrad, Yoongi took a deep breath and sighed, pursing his lips and glancing out the window. It’s well into the afternoon yet the sun looked absent, however he could still feel a warm tingling on his skin. It was unnerving. “He was different,” Yoongi murmured, knowing that Namjoon was already giving him a look.

“What? His dick sparkles or something?”

“Piss off,” Yoongi flicked crumbs in his direction, ignoring Namjoon’s calling him immature. “He was… cool. Like, really passionate about music and dance. It was cute seeing him ramble on about how excited he was about all this.”

“That’s nice, that all?”

“He’s also a huge fan,” Yoongi said quickly, hiding his face behind his coffee. So, maybe he had been a teensy bit assuaged by the fact that the kid knew his SoundCloud songs like a father does the Bible. Who didn’t like praises? Especially if it came from a very, very good-looking guy who just happened to be a fan, you know. It was all in the coincidence.

Namjoon snorted, “Pleasing your groupies I see.”

“Anyway,” he pressed, “thought it was okay, was cool. I was a little drunk ‘cause we met at some party then one thing led to another and we fucked.”

“Okay, that’s good. That’s like progress.”

“No, not good. The kid was good—” Yoongi moaned absentmindedly. God, the thought of the guy’s thighs flexing and tensing every time he sank down on Yoongi, the kid taking the lead and fucking himself down and the filthiest words spilling from his lips while Yoongi could only whimper helplessly and follow along to whatever the boy had in store for him for the night (and it was a lot). It was good. It was fucking incredible that Yoongi figured—hey, this kid knew what he was doing, he was probably not a virgin.

Guess again.

Namjoon crinkled his nose at him. “Jesus, pull your head out of your ass. I can practically see the image in my head with your boner popping. I get it, he’s really good. So what’s the problem now?”

“He said thank you, Joon. Thank you. He cuddled me afterwards and thanked me.”

“Okay,” Namjoon stared at him quizzically.

“Nobody fuckin’ says thank you after a hookup.”

“You know, unlike you, there are people who have common courtesy even in their procreative endeavors.”

Yoongi glared at him, “Bitch, we gays can’t procreate, this is why you’re not in biology.”

“So he thanked you, what’s the big deal? He’s just nice is all.”

“Seemed too sentimental for me,” Yoongi huffed and threw a scathing look Namjoon’s way before the other could open his mouth to say something he would regret.

Namjoon chuckled, “Well, lucky for you, we have separate programs from undergrads. So, what are the chances that you’re going to see him again?”

Yoongi wanted to die.

If he thought that running into Jeongguk in the streets was the worst thing he could happen, he thought wrong. Dead wrong.

After a crummy morning with the exploding espresso machine courtesy of Namjoon and face-planting down the stairs in his hurry to leave his flat, the last thing he needed was another run of bad luck. However, obviously, the universe had it out for him. Because there he was in the studio he worked in, the studio he dedicated his time and heart into, standing face to face with none other than the kid who had given him the best dicking of the century, ten out of ten would do again. Worse—the kid also had a huge name tag hanging around his neck that clearly said INTERN in big, black, bold letters.

Yoongi didn’t fuck with virgins, and he especially didn’t fuck with coworkers.

Now he’s gone right ahead and done both.

“Are you following me?”

The kid looked alarmed for a second, eyes growing wider than he thought possible, pretty pink lips parting. Yoongi felt his cock twitch in his slacks, remembering how those exact same lips had been wrapped around his nipples. Shit.

“H-hyung,” Jeongguk cleared his throat, straightening awkwardly and even blushing. Fuck, he was cute. Too cute for his own good. “I—uh, no. You said that I could come check out the studio when we—” he paused, gaze flicking up from beneath his thick lashes to look at Yoongi “—we, you know. So I did and I applied to their internship program and I got in.”

Note to self: do not fucking drink. Ever. Again.

“Right, that’s cool,” Yoongi cleared his throat, hoping that the loud, nervous rumbling in his heart wasn’t obvious. “Intern, right. That’s cool.”

At his words, Jeongguk’s lips quirked up on the corners. It seemed that Yoongi’s nerves had cancelled out his. “You said that already.”

“Right, cool.”

Jeongguk giggled a little and Yoongi wanted to smack himself with a book. Preferably a very, very thick and hard one. “So guess I’ll be seeing you around, hyung. Supervisor wants me to reorganize the filing cabinets.”

“Ah, yes, intern work. I remember those days.”

“You make it sound as if you’re three times my age. Calm down, Grandpa,” Jeongguk smirked, “you know, if you’re free, I wouldn’t mind an extra hand to help.”

Yoongi’s mind might have traveled elsewhere with the suggestion, but he just huffed out a laugh, “Yeah, right. I’m way past those days, kid. Have fun, don’t get too many paper cuts.” With a cackle, he left a groaning Jeongguk to start chipping away at the mountains of folders in the record closet.

Tolerance was built as is the case with alcohol, patience towards idiots, and a numbness towards things that made his adrenaline levels spike. It was supposed to build. It was supposed to fester and grow and stop his heart from flipping all over the place whenever he caught sight of Jeongguk. The first few days, the intern looked like a deer in headlights whenever someone called his name. Yoongi hid his smile each time because the younger was cute. Jeongguk was hardworking and sweet, and so easily likable that everyone in the office quickly fell for his toothy grin and silly laugh. He was eager to please, always running here and there for errands. Sometimes, he would even give a cute little salute and a small ‘aye, aye’ before he got started on whatever task he was assigned to. It pissed Yoongi off that some of his colleagues were taking advantage of him that Yoongi might or might not have spilled blistering coffee on a few of them.

But Jeongguk didn’t seem to mind, seemed to like moving around and having things to do. Yoongi figured that it would be fine that they had gotten involved before. Sure, they crossed paths, but it wasn’t as if they were going to fall into step (or bed) together again anytime soon.

Interaction was fine. Yoongi could talk to him and ask him to do things around the office without wanting to get down on his knees and suck the younger off (most of the time, at least).

However, the tolerance just wasn’t there. It wasn’t enough.

It was during quiet hours in the studio that Yoongi realized how weak he truly was for the younger. Whenever Yoongi stayed overtime at the recording booth, he would find Jeongguk popping by to check on him from time to time. Even when he insisted that it was basically his bedtime, much to Jeongguk’s distaste, the younger would hover around and watch Yoongi work with the brightest eyes. When the elder asked him why he wanted to spend so long in the studio, he had just shrugged, “It’s cool watching you work. You know a lot and I want to learn from you.”

As if his ego and heart hadn’t been inflated enough, this just put the cherry on top of the cake. Jeongguk would bring him steaming mugs of coffee, done just the way he liked it with a sprinkle of sugar and a splash of milk. In his sleep-deprived state, he really couldn’t complain about any dose of caffeine. The younger would hover quietly behind him, watching his fingers move deftly at work over the sound system.

“Guk, you really shouldn’t be out so late,” Yoongi grumbled, giving the taller boy a light shove as they jogged down the steps of the studio. It was a little over one and Yoongi was making his way home at long last. Jeongguk had stuck around again, yawning this time as puffs of warm breath mingled in with the cold air outside.

“‘M fine, just a little tired,” Jeongguk mumbled cutely, bringing his fist up to rub at his eyes.

Yoongi’s heart twinged at the sight. He yanked off his own scarf and wrapped it around the younger’s neck. Jeongguk was decked out in nothing more than a flimsy sweater that could barely barricade him from the miserable winter temperature. There was no way he was going to make it back home alive in that getup. “You should learn to dress properly too,” Yoongi grunted under his breath, tightening the knot around the boy’s neck. “You’re going to catch hypothermia at this rate.”

“Mm, nope,” he giggled sleepily, “I’m basically a human heater. Feel me.” He stuck out his bare hands in Yoongi’s direction.

The elder glanced at them hesitantly and Jeongguk nudged them forward again, doe eyes practically begging him to touch them. Yoongi sighed, relenting and mimicking the gesture. His fingers slowly ran over the back of the boy’s hand, the pads of his fingertips smoothing over the delicate veins before wrapping around the hand altogether. He was right. He was warm.

However, with how hard his heart was beating in his ears, Yoongi wasn’t quite sure if that warmth was emanating from the boy across from him or if it rooted in some sort of unfamiliarity brewing in his veins. Nevertheless, he quickly pulled away and shoved his hands deep, deep into his pockets. Jeongguk’s eyes remained wide and curious, peering at Yoongi as if he was attempting to pry into his thoughts.

“Let’s head back, kid,” Yoongi grumblesd under his breath, opting to show interest in his shoes rather than the intrigued expression painted on the younger boy’s face.

With small talk and a struggle against the bitter cold, Yoongi walked Jeongguk to the same station and parted ways when Jeongguk hopped on a different line. Safe to say, he spent the train ride home trying to rid himself of the image of a certain someone’s soft features and, especially, his deliciously warm hands.

In spite of Yoongi’s constant insistence for Jeongguk to leave earlier, the kid still refused to listen—instead choosing to stay late nights at the studio, bearing gifts of sustenance to keep Yoongi (read: the living dead) alive. Most of the time, he ignored the other’s presence and focused solely on his work before him. All his life, his time had been dedicated to music and all its accompaniments, but the universe had added another his way.

Jeongguk was curious and inquisitive, but never impolite with his questions. He did his best to keep out of Yoongi’s way but it was difficult for the other man to ignore his existence when he was so… big.

Just between the two of you (you, the reader, and Yoongi), Jeongguk’s size was definitely something that caught Yoongi’s eye the first time around—and the second and the third.

“Guk, gonna say this again, but you should not stay this late,” the elder sighed, yanking off his headphones and letting them wrap around his neck loosely. Jeongguk is yawning on the couch, homework before him seeming to be filled with sleepy, barely legible scribbles. “You’ve got classes tomorrow and I heard Professor Taesuk isn’t the friendliest with people who fall asleep in class.”

Jeongguk let out a small whine, “But I don’t wanna go home yet. I can’t focus on homework at home. I do better work here.”

“But you need rest,” Yoongi pressed again, “you should’ve gotten this done earlier and maybe cut back some hours at the studio. You’re not even getting paid.” Jeongguk, as a starting intern, was basically offering his services for free—sacrificing time and effort to build a network of connections that might come in handy someday.

“I like watching you work, makes me feel like I gotta be productive too,” he grinned unapologetically with droopy eyes.

Yoongi’s lips thinned into a stubborn line. “Go home for tonight. Come on. I’ll walk with you to the station as always.”

It’s become a habit for the two to trudge together through the cold for the commute back home. It wasn’t the best of circumstances but Yoongi appreciated those moments of silence as the snow and gravel crunched underneath their boots. Other times, Jeongguk would hum a familiar tune, his honeyed voice carrying in the wind. The sound intermingled with the rhythmic beats of Yoongi's heart, intertwining to create a melody that had his soul warming in the frost.

“Hey, hyung,” Jeongguk started just as his train arrived at the platform. Yoongi looked up. “Thanks—” pause “—for everything. You’re even cooler than I thought you’d be and I just… I like hanging out with you. You're everything I expected and… more.”

The announcement of the train’s next stop rang loud and clear across the station, but the only thing echoing in his ears was Jeongguk’s sweet words. Even as the train rushed towards them, the rails rattling with the sheer force of it, Yoongi thought they could never compare with the thrumming in his veins and the bells ringing in his ears. Jeongguk’s cheeks were pink from the cold and perhaps from the confession. “Um, no problem. You’re not so bad yourself,” Yoongi cleared his throat, feeling his own face flame just a tad.

Yoongi didn’t quite know how to remove the sudden, strange fluttering in his stomach, the little flips and churns of his gut, nor did he know whether the thundering in his ears would last or whether it would fade as quickly as the snow melted away into spring.

As the seasons changed, Yoongi found himself more and more entranced by the boy. Jeongguk was always caught within his line of sight. Whatever he was doing, whether it was cleaning up desks for his colleagues or stumbling over his feet to get coffee for the head honcho, Yoongi would always spot him. He pitied the younger for having to work the laborious, tedious tasks that nobody else wanted to do—after all, Yoongi had to go through the same thing when he himself had been a starter.

But Jeongguk never once complained or whined, never once felt an ounce of bitterness even when Yoongi supplied him with the opportunity to let his frustrations out. Instead, he would beam and say that this was a step closer to his goal of success.

“Wait, you want to make music but you’re going into business?” Yoongi questioned, puzzled. His hands froze over his setup as he turned to give the younger a confused look. Jeongguk had only shown passion towards the artistry Yoongi and the studio created, always raving on about a track or a production. Although he had been mostly involved in administrative tasks rather than content creation, Jeongguk had never spoken so highly of the financial side of the business nor has he expressed interest.

Jeongguk shrugged and grinned, “My parents don’t trust me in music, but I do still need their support to go to college since my grades don’t really qualify me for a merit scholarship. But it’s fine! I was thinking of going more into music business? I think that would be pretty dope, but I like singing and learning to produce too.” A pause ensued and the two sat in silence as Yoongi chewed on his words. Before he could respond, Jeongguk continued—this time with pink coloring his cheeks, “And that’s why I’m really grateful to you, hyung. You’re really cool and I’m learning so much from you.”

And Yoongi—in typical Yoongi fashion—opted for a response that allowed him to turn away and mask his embarrassment. Jeongguk had no problem exposing his admiration for the elder, but Yoongi struggled to control his heartbeat and preventing his death from utter elation.

A small giggle behind him indicated that the tactic hadn’t worked very well after all. And somehow, a part of him didn’t mind that in the least.

It had become a custom for him to slide on his headphones and slip into a zone of focus that barricaded him from the entirety of the outside realm. He existed for hours entirely for his music and the vibrations that pulsed through his ears. Every blemish in the song he cleared with his bare hands and instruments. By the time he was a teensy bit satisfied with his progress, the haze in his reality would clear. Pulling off his headphones, he turned to check on Jeongguk. “Hey, kid—”

And the sight that greeted him was both heart-stopping and endearing. His headphones clattered to the ground and he cursed at himself, quickly picking them up before whipping his gaze to the younger boy to see whether the noise had affected him. However, aside from a small whimper that had Yoongi’s heart squeezing, he was still sound asleep.

“Unbelievable,” the elder muttered, though he couldn’t keep the subtle smile off his face. Lifting himself off the chair, Yoongi did his best to pad quietly to where the boy lied. His face of slumber ever so serene—gone was the mischievousness and blinding smile, leaving a tired angel at rest in its wake.

Yoongi crouched down, ready to shake Jeongguk awake to send him home for the day. However, as he raised his hand, he found himself halting. His keen eyes observed the way his soft bangs fell against his face, how Jeongguk would scrunch up his nose unconsciously every time it tickled his skin. Smiling, the elder instead moved to brush his hair away from his face, gently stroking his temple. Jeongguk’s face melted into one of ease, a smile making its way upon his lips.

The moment seemed to have pulled the brakes on time—the entire world moving in slow motion, from the gentle rise and falls of Jeongguk’s chest, to the way Yoongi’s digits sifted through the younger’s silky strands, and how the boy’s eyelids fluttered open drowsily. Jeongguk blinked slowly, gradually gaining consciousness as reality dawned upon him once more.

Yoongi’s breath hitched in his throat, catching in surprise. On the other hand, the other man seemed to have done the same—his eyes widened, awestruck at the moment. For a while, the two made no moves—staying stiff and still to keep the tensely fragile air steady. It was as if one shift of muscle could’ve shattered the entire moment into shards. But it was proving difficult to breathe and Yoongi wasn’t sure if this was good for either of them, but he didn’t—couldn’t—bring himself to move.

He should’ve pulled away, should’ve coughed or done something to tear away from the intensity of the second. But he didn’t. He was a coward and he liked Jeongguk and he didn’t think that he would ever get a second chance at this opportunity—to stare and observe this beautiful human being too good and too untouched by this world.

However, the other had other things in mind as he scooted forward on the couch. Their faces were a few mere inches from each other. Yoongi could feel the warmth of their breaths mingling in the air. “Hyung,” Jeongguk whispered, slicing gently through the silence. He drifted closer and closer, his eyes falling shut once again. Yoongi prayed and hoped that he had just fallen asleep, but the quick skip in his breath indicated otherwise as his lips finally pressed against the elder’s.

And it was as if time had truly stopped—the entire world freezing on its axis, unmoving and the earth had stopped revolving around the sun and the moon pausing its rotation.

Yoongi was still positioned awkwardly, but he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t deny the familiarity of Jeongguk’s lips, how wonderful they felt, how soft they were, how long he had been waiting for this exact moment.

Jeongguk parted his lips cautiously, gauging the other man’s response to his action. There were alarms blaring in Yoongi’s mind, warning him that this was the point of no return—if he crossed this line, there was no going back. No going back to being coworkers sharing amused looks across the halls, no friendly, quiet nights in the studio.

For once, Yoongi didn’t listen to his head.

He kissed Jeongguk back with as much fervor as the younger gave. Their lips melted together as if they were meant to fit perfectly, like clay around its mold. Yoongi barely registered Jeongguk’s sharp intake of breath before he slowly crawled above the other boy, straddling his hips as he leaned down to join their lips again. His heart burned with flames that licked up his skin, his hands beginning their journey to explore the wide expanse of Jeongguk’s body. He swallowed every whine, every little, delicious whimper that slipped past the younger’s addicting lips.

Jeongguk responded to his every touch, every stroke of finger underneath his shirt and down the outline of his stomach. He canted his hips up to meet Yoongi’s, moaned as he relished in the sensations of Yoongi’s fingers digging into his scalp and tugging his head back. With his neck exposed, the elder dipped his face to taste his neck, sucking slowly at first before adding the graze of his teeth to the mixture. Jeongguk released soft pants, choked breaths as Yoongi lapped at the marked skin—the golden glistening with a bit of moisture and blooming with prints he had left behind.

It was satisfying to see Jeongguk come undone underneath his fingertips. It seemed that, whatever Yoongi did, the younger would respond so promptly, so violently that it fueled this sudden, carnal desire within him. He memorized every little noise, every twitch of the boy’s fingers.

Before long, shirts were strewn across the floor, abandoned without a second glance. Yoongi’s pale fingers traced pretty circles on the boy’s abdomen, dancing gently along the surface to elicit shivers from the younger who caught the digits and nipped at them teasingly. “Didn’t know you really liked my abs, hyung,” he giggled.

Yoongi rolled his eyes but smiled nonetheless, “Cocky shit. You know you look good.”

“I do,” he beamed and then softened, “but it still feels good to hear it from you than anyone else.”

His words pricked at the elder’s supposedly colder heart, chipped away at the ice. Yoongi recognized the tone—that sound of adoration and admiration—and that was a dangerous tone for the game they are trying to play. And Yoongi made his next mistake by once again choosing to ignore the second glaring sign that this was wrong, that there was a better path.

“Hyung?” Jeongguk questioned, peering up at him with those pretty, bright eyes. Yoongi had written them—those pretty, bright eyes—into his lyrics, into one of his ballads that sounded much too soft to be included in his mixtape. It was the kind of song he would tuck away as a memory piece for a nostalgic day.

“Less talking, baby,” he grunted instead, touching their lips in the middle as his fingers fumbled with Jeongguk’s buckle.

Their pants soon joined other articles of clothing on the floor, leaving them bare in the coziness of the tiny studio. The only sounds bouncing off the soundproof walls were Jeongguk’s labored breaths and the shuffling of skin against the fabric of the couch. Yoongi kissed along his jaw—that pretty, sharp jaw—and down his neck, over the bruises, and down the column of his pretty throat. Everything about Jeongguk screamed perfection and that voice inside of Yoongi was in turn commanding him to take a piece of it, to have a taste of the crème de la crème.

And who was Yoongi to deny his inner voice? He bit and nibbled, loving the way the canvas of the younger’s body blossomed before him with his imprints. He made his way down, running his tongue along the lines of his toned body, dipping it into the dimples of his waist.

Yoongi licked his lips when he reached his final destination. Jeongguk’s length curved thick and proud against his stomach, a tantalizing sight from a tantalizing man. It would be a lie to say that his mouth didn’t water at the sight. Jeongguk exuded everything sex embodied in that very moment and Yoongi was a mere mortal falling into the temptations created by the hands of sin.

“Hyung, f-fuck, please,” he whimpered, fingers absentmindedly tangling in the elder’s silky locks to tug him closer. “Can you—would you—”

Never in his life had he seen Jeongguk so distraught. Even their first night together, the younger had been so composed, had left the other man instead a stuttering mess. But this time, the tables had turned and Yoongi was going to milk this as much as he could.

Grinning, he thumbed the slit of Jeongguk’s pulsing cock, “What do you want, Jeonggukie? Tell hyung what you want.”

“Hyung,” Jeongguk flushed again, pretty pink lips parting in a gasp as he jerked his hips up slightly to get any form of friction from the elder’s hand.

“You have to tell me, Jeongguk-ah,” Yoongi muttered and gave his length a quick squeeze, just enough to have him squirming uncomfortably.

“M’want—I just want your mouth—” Jeongguk’s breath hitched in his throat as Yoongi gave a tentative lick, tongue barely grazing the head. A long expletive left the other’s mouth and the elder chuckled. “Come on, hyung, you can’t do this to me. It hurts. Fuck, it hurts so much. Want your mouth—nothing else, p-please. I want your mouth on me, hyung.”

With every breathless, hiccuped plea, Jeongguk proved to only urge Yoongi to tease him even more. His fingers danced along the length, his fingertips brushing along the riverlike veins, and his mouth puffed out warm air against the already sensitive skin. His pale digits toyed with his cock and wrapped and tightened around it, stroking ever so lightly. “Keep begging, kid, maybe you’ll get there.”

“You’re so mean—hnnng,” Jeongguk whined, “s-so mean, after I rode you so well last time.”

Yoongi laughed, “Rode me once and think you’re hot shit already? That how you should be treating your elders?”

The younger pouted, eyes clouded over with misty lust. “You’re not that much older, Grandpa.”

“Keep that up and I’ll think you have a grandpa kink or somethin’,” he jokingly jeered.

“I can feel my boner dying at this very second,” Jeongguk noted with a pointed glare at both Yoongi and his pained dick.

His lips curved into an amused grin. The kid could be a brat after all. He supposed Jeongguk had always gotten what he wanted, always was some sort of superman with how well he did everything he did. Now that Yoongi had the ball in his court, it was almost hilarious how conflicted Jeongguk looked when he had to sacrifice his pride to beg for more from the elder. “We can’t have that now, can we?” Yoongi grinned, finally dipping his head and showing some mercy towards the younger.

He mouthed along the cock and the heat of his lips seemed to be more than enough to drive the younger right out of his mind. His tongue dragged along the length and swirled around the head. Jeongguk was throbbing, his entire body clenching and relaxing according to Yoongi’s gestures. His moans filled the empty room as he relished in the sensations of the other’s ministrations.

“Look at you all pretty for me, Jeonggukie,” he murmured, teeth scraping gently along his cock. “I’ve never seen a prettier baby than you. You’re such a good boy, aren’t you, hm? Do you like this? Do you like hyung’s mouth on you?”

The words that tumbled from the elder’s throat had Jeongguk’s blood rushing through his veins, heartbeat thundering in his ears as he could feel waves of pleasure and tension crashing over him. “Y-yes, love it so much, hyung. Your mouth—fuck, mmm, feels s’good—you’re so—ahh, oh—please, please. It feels so good, hyung.”

“Good, pretty baby,” Yoongi cooed, placing his cock back into his mouth and sucking it deep. He bobbed his head to take in as much as he could of Jeongguk’s thick length inside of him. The younger’s body was shuddering with thrill as he twisted his fingers harder into Yoongi’s hair.

Yoongi couldn’t help himself, loved the way Jeongguk kept pulling at his hair. His desperation was palpable and crackling through the air. He groaned into the cock in his mouth, vibrations immediately carrying through Jeongguk’s entire being. His fingers played with his balls, clasping them tightly, and covered what his mouth couldn’t.

There was something so satisfying about the weight of Jeongguk’s dick in his mouth. A satisfying feeling of fullness as he licked and lapped at the length. The cock glistened with moisture underneath the studio lights and Jeongguk looked so pretty, all frenzied and short of breath. He would look even prettier if he were spread—

“Hyung, want you,” Jeongguk moaned, this time his hands halting Yoongi’s movement and pulling him away. “God, I want you inside me. P-please, miss the feel of your cock filling me up.”

Yoongi licked his lips. Fuck, this kid really was something else. For once (or maybe the second time) in his life, Yoongi was going to voluntarily break one of his rules. At least this time he knew Jeongguk was definitely no longer a virgin. “What do you want, Jeongguk-ah? Did you say you missed me? You liked my cock that much?”

Jeongguk voiced his complaint as he, with trembling fingers, pushed himself up and around, flipping over so his ass was in full view for Yoongi. And what a fucking fantastic ass it was. The younger's hands splayed out across the cheeks and pulled them apart. His puckered hole was beckoning Yoongi closer, begging him to stick his tongue in it until Jeongguk was a writhing mess or shove his cock in there to fill him up.

“God, you’re fuckin’ pretty, kid,” Yoongi grunted, dancing his fingers lightly along the smooth skin of his cheeks. The other twitched in response, nudging himself backwards to encourage him. “S’cute, what do you want?”

“Y-your cock,” Jeongguk whined almost pitifully. Need leaked into his tone, his breathlessness a clear indication of his strong urge for more. “Please, hyung, want your cock in me. Want you to fuck me stupid,” he moaned, pushing himself back again to press his bare ass against Yoongi’s front.

The friction had Yoongi biting back a groan. Those plump mounds would look so pretty swallowing up his length. “Let me prep you first.”

“No need,” he gasped, “M’loose—loose enough anyway. Fucked myself earlier.”

“Earlier?”

Jeongguk was growing more restless by the second, and he certainly seemed far from accommodating to Yoongi’s inquisition. “T-the bathroom, lunchtime. Just needed to get off. Kept thinking of you in your studio—fuck, you look so hot.”

His confession would make a priest blush and Yoongi’s mouth watered at the thought of Jeongguk shoving himself up against the wall of a tiny bathroom stall in the office, fingers buried deep and curling inside of him until his knees buckled. God, what a fuckin’ concept.

“So naughty, Jeonggukie,” Yoongi breathed, hand pressing down to give his ass a good squeeze. “Do you do that a lot? Fuck yourself in the office?”

“Hnng, n-no, not really—maybe, I don’t know—God, I can’t think right now,” Jeongguk choked and squirmed in agitation.

“Should give you a toy to stuff your ass next time, keep that in the entire day hm,” the elder was musing aloud, thinking about how a fantastic idea that would be. That seemed to only add fuel to the fire as Jeongguk released a deep, throaty sound to signal his pleasure.

Jeongguk whimpered, “Y-yeah, that would be good. Want a cock shoved up in me—maybe a dildo. Got a nice one at home.” He was rambling at that point and Yoongi took that opportunity to roll on a condom and slick it up with lube. Despite his distracted state with his wild imagination, Jeongguk’s words died in his throat the second the sloppy sounds of Yoongi stroking his wet cock resonated in the room. “Shit, oh my—fuck, hyung, please. I want you now. Want you to fuck me hard.”

Yoongi himself couldn’t wait any longer and wrapped a hand around his member to guide it towards Jeongguk’s hole. He traced the tip along the rim again and again, grazing over it teasingly. It was driving the younger insane because all he wanted was to be stuffed full of cock, craved that satisfying feeling of being completely and utterly fucked.

“Alright, you ready, Guk?”

The younger tossed a glare over his shoulder. “I’ve been ready for two hours now.”

“Sure it’s not the entire day? Heard someone fucked themselves in a public bathroom earlier.”

“Ha, you’re hilarious—” The drawl was dropped the second Yoongi squeezed himself into the tight tunnel. Jeongguk let out a long groan as his cock twitched in front of him. He could feel his entire body tensing to the familiar sensation of being filled up. “Fuck,” he moaned, “feels s’good. Shit, hyung, so good. Fuck me, please please please.”

Yoongi nodded and eased himself in and out slowly, almost torturously. He was doing his best to avoid hurting the boy but the pace he was setting seemed to only pain Jeongguk more. The man was pushing himself back to meet Yoongi’s tormenting rhythm.

“Goddamn, hyung, fuck me faster. I can’t feel shit right now,” Jeongguk protested childishly, his words complemented by a deep pout.

He almost forgot how bratty Jeongguk could be. This was why, that first time, he couldn’t believe that Jeongguk was a virgin. He seemed to know how to egg the elder on, how to provoke him to do his worst, which was exactly what he wanted. Yoongi did as he was asked and snapped his hips forward—hard. The entirety of his cock slipped inside the hole and, considering he wasn’t particularly big, was able to hit him balls deep.

“Shit, fuck, right there,” the man underneath him hiccuped, grinding his ass back against Yoongi. “Just like that. Harder. Faster.”

Yoongi followed suit and swung forward again. He pulled out his cock halfway, enough to have Jeongguk feeling empty and pissed when Yoongi stayed that way for far too long. Just as the younger was about to let another complain spill, Yoongi thrust back into him deep and started fucking into him at a speed that rendered the boy senseless. He was trembling all over, muscles tensing and relaxing in alternating motions.

The usual silence in the studio was quickly replaced by the sound of the younger’s pleasured voice and the sound of skin against skin. There was something hypnotizing and sexy about fucking in an empty studio, about knowing how he had colleagues and, if any of them were to work overtime, might be fortunate enough to catch them red-handed. Or, in Jeongguk’s case, bent over and fucked by the mysterious and private part-time producer, Min Yoongi.

“R-right there—oh man, fuck yes—aaah,” Jeongguk whined, squeezing his eyes shut as he let his entire body be consumed by the sheer wonder of Yoongi’s cock. Yoongi was enjoying himself as well, fucking into the boy and relishing Jeongguk’s sounds—a clear telltale that his body and sensations were bathing in gratification. “G-god, you’re so good at this. Fuckin’ me so good, hyung. Such a great cock, missed it a lot,” he grinned over his shoulder.

What a sight the kid was. Ass full of cock, hair matted against his forehead, and that gorgeous, confident smirk spread across his face. He was the personification of lust in that very moment and Yoongi couldn’t bring himself to argue otherwise considering he was taking pleasure in the very definition of sex in human form.

“You touching yourself, Guk?” Yoongi asked, chest heaving.

“N-no, do you want me to?” He sounded so small. Fuck, that was hot. Being shorter in stature himself, Yoongi thrived on the ability to make others bigger than him feel much smaller than him. It was a kink, sure. It was a particular kink when it came to Jeongguk who was fit and ripped and whose presence screamed loud.

“Do it, stroke yourself, baby,” he cooed, sliding in and out faster and harder. The corresponding noises were lewd and messy, just the way Yoongi liked it. The lube made it much too easy for him to fuck into Jeongguk, liquid dribbling down the boy’s thighs every time Yoongi pushed inside him.

Jeongguk was obedient, doing as he was told and reaching his hand down to touch himself. His cock was rock hard and pulsing painfully. He nearly cried with relief and hurt when he began to run his fingers along the tough length. “F-fuck, feels so good—goddammit,” he cursed.

Every time Yoongi pushed forward, Jeongguk would lurch along with the motion and fuck into his own hand. Each stroke of friction sent liquid fire shooting through his veins, the heat spreading quickly throughout his body.

In spite of his lack of experience with Jeongguk, the way the man was trembling was an indicator that he was close. So close. The stuttered breaths and expletives leaving his mouth were also more than enough to indicate the same. “Shit, shit, fuck—so good, gonna—oh fuck, waited so long for this. Hyung’s cock—fuck, so good. Wanna come, wanna fuckin’ come all over so badly. Please.”

“That so, Jeonggukie? You wanna be a messy baby?” Yoongi goaded, grinning to himself proudly when the younger shuddered with his words. “You like being made a mess, huh? Like being a little slut getting fucked open in a studio like this. Do you like being messy, baby?”

“Mmm, yes, hyung, l-love it. I wanna be a mess just for you—your mess,” Jeongguk hummed, ass fucking back so Yoongi would be pushing into him harder.

“You going to come all over yourself, baby? Are you going to come for hyung?”

Jeongguk nodded eagerly, his entire body shaking, “Y-yes, please please, can I, hyung? Can I come please?”

“Think you’ve been a good boy for me, baby?”

“Yes, yes! I’ve been so good, hyungie. Been so good to you,” Jeongguk pleaded desperately, voice growing more frantic. His words were slurring together and his tone begging.

“You’ve been so messy though, I don’t know if I like messy—”

“I’ll clean up! Please, I’ll be clean. I’ll clean up from now on.” At this point, the younger was saying anything to gain his orgasm. His hand was still tugging on his cock. The tip was throbbing, red coloring almost blue. He needed the release and Yoongi wasn’t as heartless as he himself believed.

With a feigned deep sigh, one that had Jeongguk’s stomach falling, Yoongi pursed his lips. “I mean—”

The forced disappointment in his tone was enough to have the younger pleading again. “P-please, hyung. Oh fuck, please. I’ll do anything. I’ll be so good to you, I promise. Just want your cock, nothing else. Make me your messy baby. I’ll be messy, I’ll be clean, whatever you want.”

There was a niggling feeling nagging at the back of Yoongi’s mind that Jeongguk’s words were treading on dangerous waters, one involving attachment that Yoongi wasn’t sure he wanted to venture into just yet. So he let the boy have exactly what he needed. “Okay, Jeonggukie, you can come. Go on, come for me. Show me how much you have inside of you, how messy you can be.”

Jeongguk’s lips part with his words, breath knotting in his throat as he allowed himself to let go. As Yoongi continued to jerk his hips into him, Jeongguk reached that sweet peak and spilled into his hand. White, sticky come coated his fingers quickly, dripping onto the couch and staining it with ivory. He was messy for sure and Yoongi would be lying if he said that didn’t turn him on.

He could feel his own climax chasing after him, clawing at his skin and begging to be released. “Fuck, t-that’s hot,” Yoongi groaned, “M’gonna come soon.”

The younger, ever breathless, was still tingling from his orgasm and quaking from the force of it, paused Yoongi’s movement. “W-wait, want you to come on my face. Please. Want your come on my face.”

Goddammit.

Yoongi was going to fucking burst with his words alone. He wasn’t a teenager but his limits seemed to have been tested with Jeongguk. “You sure? Your face?”

“Y-yeah,” Jeongguk breathed, quickly scrambling to lie on his back. He gestured for Yoongi to climb on top of him and the other did so, throwing his legs on either side of the man and hovered his cock over Jeongguk’s face.

As if to make things worse (or better), Jeongguk let his eyes slide shut as his jaw fell to pop his mouth open. His tongue stuck out, waiting patiently for the sweet nectar building up inside of Yoongi. “Fuck,” he groaned, yanking on his cock faster and squeezing harder, “you’re so fuckin’ pretty like this. Your ass is pretty, your face is pretty. Would look even prettier covered in my come.”

Jeongguk murmured his agreement and kept his mouth open, tongue hanging out and anticipating. It certainly didn’t take him very long to spiral down into temptation. His come soon streaked across Jeongguk’s face, splattering abstract lines across the boy’s beautiful face like a blank canvas painted over in a masterpiece. Jeongguk kept his mouth open, Yoongi’s come landing sweetly on his tastebuds. The white garnished the boy’s face prettily. The sight only impelled Yoongi on even more and he milked his cock as much as he could to get all of his pleasure out and onto the boy’s features.

It truly was something else to see Jeongguk when he was completely sober and coming down from his high. His beauty was unrivaled and Yoongi couldn’t deny how fucking gorgeous he looked with Yoongi’s come all over his face. Jeongguk closed his mouth and swallowed the liquid that had ended up on his tongue, throat moving with the action.

God, he was fucking beautiful.

However, the guilt for making a whole mess took over quickly and he reached for tissues to offer the younger. Jeongguk took it with a nearly inaudible thanks and began to wipe himself down. Yoongi, unsure of what to do, leaned back against the couch in full, naked glory. There was no denying how satisfied he was, the adrenaline dissipating from his veins as fast as it came.

Jeongguk was next to him, drying himself up and removing the mess from his face.

The silence that ensued was deafening. It was as if a contraption had taken hold of the air and squeezed all the oxygen out of it. Gone was the intensity of the atmosphere, leaving an awkward aftertaste. Yoongi cleared his throat, Jeongguk didn’t look like he was breathing. The two sat side by side and Yoongi couldn’t think of a time more awkward than this, not even the time he caught his roommate jerking to Elton John in tears.

Yoongi licked his lips and made the first move, reaching for his crumpled shirt on the floor to slip it on. Jeongguk fumbled to do the same, fingers seeming to tremble with the force of nature. The two got dressed in the utter quietness, neither one of them saying a word to ease the tension weighing heavy in the room.

As the elder shifted over to clean up his music notes and tidy up his studio, Jeongguk took note and packed up his work, shoving everything into his backpack distractedly.

“So, you heading back?” Yoongi coughed, prompting the younger to jerk up and whirl around. He swung around so fast, the elder worried that he might’ve gotten whiplash.

Jeongguk pinked, gaze finding the mirror and trailing down his neck where Yoongi had left his mark. His eyes danced with something akin to hunger. His glance flicked back up to meet Yoongi’s. Instead of addressing how Yoongi had basically mauled the other man over, Jeongguk only cleared his throat and nodded. “Yeah, it’s getting late.”

“Cool—” Cool? That’s the best you could do, Min? “Let’s walk over to the station then.” Even if Yoongi hated painstakingly awkward situations, the last thing he wanted was for Jeongguk to risk his life at ass o’clock because he got some dick from a fool like him.

There was a pause in which Jeongguk tilted his head, eyes widening ever so slightly, as a small smile painted itself on his face. “Okay,” he spoke softly, voice quiet in the thundering of Yoongi’s heartbeat.

The walk to the station felt longer than it usually did. The space between them growing by the second. Jeongguk’s long legs took him a step further than Yoongi each time, but he always slowed down and adjusted according to how Yoongi moved. They fell into step together and, although Yoongi appreciated the gesture, appreciated Jeongguk, there was a strange bubbling in his stomach that had the hairs on his skin rising.

He had a good time with Jeongguk, sure. But what about the aftermath? This wasn’t supposed to happen again. He already had his qualms with the idea of fucking Jeongguk the first time around, and he was foolish enough to do it a second time. Instead of resolving whatever past issues he had with Jeongguk and his emotions, he ended up caught in a tighter struggle in these tangling vines. Instead of finding answers, he was left with more questions and doubts that had his stomach churning uncomfortably.

Yoongi was a man of certainty. He was certain of his aspirations, certain of his preferences, but Jeongguk had stained a grey area in his black and white.

“Well, this is me,” Jeongguk stated slowly as his train arrived at the platform. Yoongi looked up, pressing his lips together and glancing at the moving machine to avoid Jeongguk’s eyes.

“Get home safe, Jeongguk,” he breathed finally just as the doors opened.

When he finally met the younger’s eyes, it seemed as if he had more to say. His eyes had always been so big and expressive—windows to the soul as people say. However, after a moment of searching Yoongi’s, he managed a small smile, shaking his head to himself with thoughts Yoongi wasn’t privy to. “I’ll see you tomorrow, hyung.”

With one last salute, he was climbing aboard with the doors closing behind him. Yoongi was left in the sudden silence, the rattling of the rails absent to grant room for his pervasive anxiousness.

He didn’t quite know what to do. But one thing was for sure—he was screwed.

The thing with Yoongi was that he never reacted well to news that rocked his boat. His nerves had the tendency of leaping from one end to another, zapping and frying his entire brain and rational thinking.

This time was no different. The entire ride home, through the loud, metallic screeching of the tracks, and as even as he made his way up to his apartment and lied down on his bed, the image of Jeongguk’s face—all of them, a series of images—flashed through his mind. The boy’s expressions morphing from one emotion to the next—the happiness shining through his hazel eyes, his desire reflected in the parting of his lips and the creases of his temple, and what seemed to be understanding painted on the softness of the curl of his lips.

He didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how he could possibly face him and pretend as if everything could go back to normal again. He had painted his face in come, had let filthy words tumble from his lips, had let his pale fingers bruise the younger’s skin, and had stuffed his cock inside of him.

Twice.

There were a lot of things that Yoongi failed to not regret in life, this was just another strike on the list.

Returning to work on lack of sleep was something he was used to. However, returning to work on lack of sleep and with the most excruciatingly conflicting emotions plaguing his every thought was the worst. Even the blackest of coffees could not save him from this misery.

As if to make matters worse, the second he stepped into the studio, he spotted Jeongguk coming down the hallway with a pile of files stacked up to the top of his head. Yoongi did what he did best—run. He quickly slipped into another room and waited until he heard Jeongguk’s footsteps walk past and fade away.

“What a coincidence to see you here.” The voice that chirped from his side had him jerking back to reality, heart rate picking up in panic. Yoongi whirled around to see Hoseok smirking at him. “Missed me that much?”

“You’re hilarious,” Yoongi rolled his eyes, creaking the door open again to glimpse into the hallway.

Hoseok leaned against the soundboard, tilting his head curiously. Having been so caught up with his work and with Jeongguk, Yoongi hadn’t really had the time to spare for a few of his friends—or ex-hookups, namely Jung Hoseok. The two had met in college, ended up in the same company for an internship and, well, had previously fucked. Once—or maybe thrice. This was before they landed the same jobs and Yoongi had to cut off the hooking up because work took over his life. Hoseok had taken it in stride has he did a lot of things. It wasn’t as if he was at a shortage of men lining up to please him.

Though, even Hoseok wouldn’t be able to deny that Yoongi held a soft spot in his heart. And his pants.

“Haven’t seen you in a while, why do you look like you’re hiding?” Hoseok asked, curiosity piqued before Yoongi could mask his expression with disinterest.

The elder of the two cleared his throat, “Just, you know, the boss.”

“Boss is out for the week, you know this. What’s up?”

“Nothing,” Yoongi pinched his lips, “anyway, I should get going—”

“You know,” Hoseok started, halting Yoongi’s steps, “if you wanted to see me so badly, you should’ve just asked. You have my number, Yoongi.”

The other man snapped a glare his way. “That is not why I came in here.”

“So why did you?”

“Just—” How did he manage to dig this deep of a hole himself? “—wanted to check out the equipment, I heard you got some new stuff from tech.”

“Nothing you don’t have, Mr. Perfectionist. Your setup is complete and flawless. Do you wanna keep lying so I can keep prying?” Hoseok grinned, knowing full well that he had won this battle. “Or—” he tapped his lip thoughtfully, drawing Yoongi’s gaze to the pretty pink “—did you want to see me for something else?”

Yoongi’s muddled brain took some time to process the statement and it must’ve given Hoseok the wrong idea as he stepped closer and closer until he had Yoongi caged against the wall. “W-wait, what are you doing?”

“You have my number, hyung,” Hoseok beamed again, that blinding, charming smile dancing mischievously on his face.

“Christ, you’re unbelievable,” Yoongi huffed and the other man only laughed as he took a step back. “I’m leaving now. Don’t try anything else.”

“My doors and pants are always open for you, hyung,” he sang just before the door slammed in his face. Yoongi already had one mess to deal with, he most definitely did not need another to add into the equation.

Avoiding Jeongguk throughout the day turned out to be more troublesome than he thought. He didn’t realize how much he saw the boy around the workplace until he actively tried not to. When he locked himself up in the studio, he couldn’t help but be grateful that he had a ‘do not disturb’ function on his door that kept outsiders away. Including Jeongguk.

(Yoongi was pretty bummed that he didn’t get to hear Jeongguk’s pleasant “good morning, hyung” with that crinkly-eyed, teethy smile—but he would take this to the grave)

When work time was over, Yoongi usually escaped with either:

leaving before the sun even set and taking his work home (not preferred as he hated leaving with unfinished tasks)

pretending that he couldn’t hear the light knocking on the door or the pacing which was sure to be Jeongguk outside his room (this was miserable but easier)

Over the course of the week, he tried all sorts of avoidance tactics. He wasn’t quite sure why—that was a lie, he knew precisely why. Yoongi didn’t think he was ready to face the consequences of his actions, including Jeongguk—sweet, sweet Jeongguk who had been nothing but kind to him. It wasn’t as if he didn’t like the kid. Of course, he liked him to a certain degree. Yoongi just wasn’t sure how he felt about this entire thing and he would rather postpone The Talk for as long as possible rather than dealing with it.

Don’t try this at home, kids.

Eventually, these things came back to bite him in the ass. And in fact, it did. See, Yoongi tried his best to live life the way he wanted—to the fullest, or as full as he could get. But this mistake might have saved him weeks of effort and suffering in which he realized he was a complete and utter fool.

Yoongi hadn’t noticed the beep of his door, heavily engrossed in tuning the demo he was working on. His hands moved across the dials and shifts on his setup, his ears covered by the headphones and the music dancing in his mind—

“What’s up, Yoongs?”

A curse left his mouth as he accidentally twisted one of the dials too far. Yanking off his headphones and turning around, Yoongi pinned the devil himself with a glare.

“Oh, scary,” Hoseok only laughed, unfazed. He had gotten used to being on the receiving end of that look whenever he disrupted Yoongi’s work, not that it made him do it any less. “I feel like you haven’t left this studio for days now.”

“Did you switch on the do not disturb function again?” Yoongi cocked an eyebrow and cracking his neck. He had been in his studio for quite some time, but it was nothing new. Hoseok just wanted an excuse to pop by, which reminded him— “I really should get that lock password changed.”

Two people knew his passcode — one was Hoseok (a Mistake) and the other was Jeongguk whom he gave this privilege just because he came around so much, Yoongi couldn’t be bothered to open the door for him any longer.

Hoseok pouted, “Why? You don’t want me coming in here unannounced?”

“No.”

“Cold,” he chuckled, giving a little feigned shiver for good measure. “You look tired, you should get some rest.”

Yoongi narrowed his eyes at the younger who was smiling much too brightly, flushed too deeply. “And you’re drunk, you should go home.”

“I’m not drunk,” Hoseok rolled his eyes, swaying a little as he stepped closer to Yoongi, “just a little tipsy. Not drunk. Tipsy.” He enunciated the last word very slowly, which gave away that he was, in fact, drunk.

“Seok-ah—”

Hoseok pulled Yoongi up and seated him against the board, trapping him in and catching Yoongi before he could run. He hummed and nuzzled his nose against Yoongi’s before moving down to bury his face in his neck. Inhaling deeply, Hoseok’s breath tickled Yoongi’s skin and—wow, it had been so long. Although Hoseok may be the complete antithesis of Yoongi, their physical chemistry had been undeniable.

“Fuck,” the younger groaned, “missed you a lot, hyung. Haven’t had cock like yours in so long.”

No, no. Yoongi could feel himself getting heated and that definitely wasn’t what he wanted when Hoseok was like this—nor did he really want Hoseok. He knew this was his dick talking, but his dick was talking very loudly. “Alright, Seok, time to go home.”

“Just a little bit—please,” Hoseok begged, eyes blown up in such a way that made Yoongi both pissed and soft. “Just a little kiss,” he stuck out his bottom lip adorably.

“I don’t think that’s a good—”

Instead of whining more, Hoseok huffed and rolled his eyes before crashing his lips down against the elder. His mouth moved fast, lips sucking in Yoongi’s as his tongue slipped in between. Yoongi’s knees faltered in surprise, his hands latching onto the younger’s arms for support. Hoseok must’ve taken that as encouragement because his hands slipped down to cup the other’s bottom as he drew him closer, pressing his noticeable boner against him.

Yoongi, as any other human would do with someone like Hoseok, reacted almost unconsciously. He moved his lips against Hoseok mindlessly, enjoying the softness of his lips. Hoseok tasted familiar with a tinge of alcohol.

But, for the first time, there was a feeling pulling at his gut that raised red flags. Something about this was just… wrong.

He didn’t know how long they stood there with their lips glued together, Yoongi trying his best to calm the sudden shaking of his nerves and Hoseok relishing the other man’s company. It wasn’t until he opened his eyes that he realized the light streaming in from outside his studio.

Because his door was open.

And Jeongguk was standing right there.

Yoongi should’ve known better that his carelessness and indecision would get to him someday. And that day happened to be it. Before he could even blink a second time to really process that the guy he had just slept with, the guy who made Yoongi’s studio a little warmer, a little brighter, and his heart a little lighter and heavier all the same, had seen him kissing another man, Jeongguk was gone.

The door closed with a resounding click that echoed much too loud in the small room. Suddenly, his studio felt suffocating, the space seemed to engulf him.

“Hoseok, get off,” he muttered as he shoved the other man off.

Hoseok looked at him in a daze, confusion evident in his expression. “S-sorry, shit, I really thought you were into it.”

Yoongi did too. Yoongi wished he was — or maybe he didn’t. Because this spoke volumes of what Yoongi was feeling — whatever it was that he couldn’t quite comprehend. But Jeongguk. It said a thousand words about how he felt about Jeongguk. Attached, affection.

And he had messed it all up.

Even then, Yoongi’s feet couldn’t bring him to move and he perhaps had let Jeongguk turn into another one that got away.

After his brief epiphany and after Hoseok left him to have yet another existential crisis, Yoongi resolved that he should at least talk to the boy or give him some time of day. Communication is key as everyone says. Maybe it’s time to start listening to the masses.

So, for once, Yoongi swallowed his pride — and it was difficult to take down — and walked up to Jeongguk’s cubicle. The interns worked in little boxes separated from the higher ups in the company. While Yoongi had been promoted enough to be granted his own studio, Jeongguk was still left to be cramped into a tiny square. This was probably why he enjoyed being in Yoongi’s space so much.

He peeked around the nonexistent door, seeing Jeongguk hunched over his laptop. Licking his lips, Yoongi braved himself. “Jeongguk,” he started.

The other whipped around so fast it seemed as if he was about to crack his bones. “Hyung.” His voice was barely a breath and his eyes — fuck, his eyes — looked absolutely pained. That wasn’t a look he ever wanted to see on anyone, especially not Jeongguk. His heart ached at the sight and knowing he had been the cause of it had guilt eating him inside out.

“Do you want to, um, maybe grab lunch with me?”

Jeongguk’s eyes flashed with another glint of pain. He glanced away for a second before turning back to his computer. “It’s fine, I’m sort of busy.”

“Guk-ah—”

“No, it’s okay, I’m fine,” Jeongguk said, his back still facing Yoongi.

He didn’t like it. It was strange facing Jeongguk’s back. They’ve always stood side by side or face to face. Even when Yoongi wasn’t looking at him, Jeongguk was usually facing his back. He had never been on the other side of it, had never realized how shitty it felt, and he wondered how Jeongguk had put up with it for so long.

“You’re obviously upset, look I—” Yoongi stepped inside the room, drawing closer to him.

The younger visibly stiffened at the sound of his footfall. “Stop.” Yoongi did. “Don’t come closer. Please.”

Yoongi wanted to reach out, wanted to touch him again. He thought back to the winter night when Jeongguk held his hand, his giggle ringing clear in the brisk air, and how his warmth had radiated against Yoongi’s cool skin.

“I get it,” Jeongguk began this time, “we were just dicking around. Please just go, I just—I don’t want you to see me like this. Okay?”

Not okay. Yoongi wanted to argue and push Jeongguk to talk, to scream at him, to just look at him. But he couldn’t be selfish — not when he has been so countless times to Jeongguk.

“I—alright, take care, Guk. Don’t forget to eat lunch, yeah?”

The other man didn’t respond and instead their silence is filled by the light tapping of Jeongguk’s fingers on his keyboard. He still hadn’t turned around and Yoongi left quietly with his heart in his throat.

Yoongi hadn’t realized before, had been so caught up in avoiding his feelings and processing them, how different things were without Jeongguk around. He hadn’t noticed how much time Jeongguk spent lounging around in his studio or doing work, how many times he greeted him in the hallways and dropped silly jokes that had him hiding his smile. The absence was almost tangible. The weight of his disappearance was a sudden burden upon his shoulders.

And thus, it was clear what would transpire. Yoongi’s moods deflated almost instantly. He was bitter and snappy, scaring away anyone who dared ring the door to his room. And it wasn’t as if he was trying to hide it — in fact, he made great attempts to show it.

“Jesus, can you stop the sulking?” Namjoon frowned, hitting him in the face with a carrot stick. As if Jeongguk ignoring him wasn’t bad enough, Namjoon was on a healthy binge and that meant that their fridge was cleansed of all fast food and ice cream — everything Yoongi needed to properly sulk.

“I’m not,” he pouted.

“Okay, what happened?”

Yoongi gave him a face that said everything. “Nothing.”

His roommate rolled his eyes, “Alright, let’s not play dumb here. Just tell me. Hit me with it. Did you fuck up with something?”

Yoongi’s frown deepened.

“Let me guess, you fucked that devirginized slash intern guy again.”

Yoongi dropped his head onto the table.

“Oh lord,” Namjoon huffed, turning around to reach to the top shelf behind him where he pulled out a bag of chips. “Tell daddy all about it.”

“The fuck, you have chips? What happened to your diet?”

“The fact that you responded to that and not my calling myself daddy means this is bad. Now come on, talk to me.” Namjoon paused, “Also, I have cheat days, cut me some slack.”

So he did. He told him everything, rambling on about how adorable and sweet Jeongguk was, how he shat sunshine out of his ass, and how he had fucked the kid again and started ignoring him and then the whole Hoseok mess.

“Let me get this straight, you fucked him, then you ignored him, then he walked in on you attempting to fuck someone else—”

“I was not attempting to fuck Hoseok!”

“Well, that wasn’t what it looked like to him, was it?” He had a point. “Then he started ignoring you.”

Yoongi sighed, “Basically.”

Namjoon didn’t say anything for a long while and, when the elder looked up, Namjoon was frowning and glaring at him so hard, it looked as if his face was about to burst.

“What?”

“You’re kidding me right? You’re sulking because of this when the answer is so simple?”

Yoongi threw a withering look his way, “Not everyone’s a genius like you.”

“It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that all you need to do is talk to him.”

“He doesn’t want to talk to me.”

Namjoon licked his lips, looking up to the heavens as if to ask why the gods were testing his patience. “You tried once. Once. The kid likes you a lot, why not use that to your advantage? The worst he could do is say no, but what have you got to lose?”

“I don’t know,” Yoongi muttered.  

“Why don’t you talk to him again? And maybe, I don’t know, ask him out properly. Take him out for milkshakes or a handjob at the movies.”

The elder moaned, rolling his forehead on the countertop. “I’m scared I’m going to fuck it up. I don’t even know how I feel, how am I going to deal with this?”

Namjoon smiled softly, patting his friend, “He seems like a good kid, he’ll listen.”

Guess it was finally time to get his balls back.

The following day, by the time lunchtime rolled around, Yoongi was sweating bullets. He finally gathered up the courage to pop by Jeongguk’s cubicle again, speech ready in mind. Straight to the point. Apologize and explain, then maybe ask him out depending on how he reacts to the apology. Perfect.

Except, he walked into the cubicle to see Taehyung, another intern, sitting on Jeongguk’s lap and giggling. Jeongguk was scowling affectionately, amusement dancing in his eyes, as he struggled to get Taehyung off him. However, when Taehyung’s eyes wandered to the door and widened in surprise, Jeongguk realized that they weren’t alone. He turned to find Yoongi standing there slack-jawed, the words on the tip of his tongue fizzling into the thick air.

“H-hyung!” he quickly shoved his friend off, Taehyung stumbling to his feet and glaring. “What are you doing here?”

Yoongi eyed them cautiously. Were they a thing? Should he be here? Should he stay after this? Maybe they were—stop. Talking to him was important. No more miscommunication. “I… wanted to talk,” he said slowly.

It was clear that the conversation was not about to be a light one. The two glanced at Taehyung awkwardly and Taehyung stared at them awkwardly before understanding dawned upon him. Grinning, he skipped out of the room with a “good luck.”

He wasn’t sure if he was referring to Yoongi or Jeongguk.

Jeongguk shifted awkwardly in his seat, trapping his hands between his thighs (don’t think about his thighs, don’t do it, Yoongi) and peering up at him from his seat. “What’s up?”

“Do you have time after work? I’ll buy you a drink.”

Hurt flickered in the younger’s eyes. God, Yoongi was already fucking this up and he wasn’t even sure how. Jeongguk breathed shakily, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

His heart stopped. Yoongi couldn’t breathe. “Or, dinner,” he scrambled, “I can buy you dinner. Lamb skewers from the cart outside? Or proper dinner, I can do too.”

“Hyung,” Jeongguk murmured.

“I really want to talk to you, Guk-ah,” Yoongi emphasized, stepping inside the room and closer to the boy.

He looked conflicted for a moment, eyes darting around the room as if he was weighing out his options. Yoongi prayed to the higher powers that things would go his way—just this once. This one time he had courage. “Alright,” Jeongguk agreed, “I’m staying a bit late though to finish something for the big boss.”

“Yeah, s’fine,” Yoongi said much too quickly, tongue tripping over his words, “I’ll wait for you.”

Jeongguk softened and nodded, “Okay, see you later.”

By the time Jeongguk finished and knocked on his door, the sun had already set and the clock had just hit nine. They bundled up in thick coats before moving outside. It was a little chilly for a spring day and Yoongi almost instantly reddened from the cold. Jeongguk giggled at the sight of Yoongi’s glowing, rosy nose.

Yoongi’s heart hurt because he loved that sound so much and didn’t know how much he missed it until that moment.

They ended up settling for a barbecue restaurant two blocks away from the studio. Thankfully, the atmosphere wasn’t too heavy with the noises all around them. Even this late at night, the restaurant was still packed with patrons. From the clanking of metallic utensils to the sizzling of meat on each grill, the place was alive.

As Yoongi worked on flipping each piece of meat, Jeongguk fidgeted uncomfortably across from him. It was only after the two had a little food inside them that Yoongi began. “Listen, I fucked up.”

Jeongguk winced, “No, no you didn’t. You never promised anything more and that’s okay. I’m a kid after all.” He laughed, voice strained. “I wasn’t sure what was going on—I mean, you know, we did it again. So I thought—hey, maybe there’s something more here. But that was all on me, you never led me on or anything, but I took it that way. Thought when you were avoiding me you just needed more time, but should’ve known better. It’s my fault for taking advantage of you.”

The elder’s brows puckered in confusion, “Why are you apologizing? I’m the asshole here, I’m supposed to be saying sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Jeongguk insisted.

“No, I was stupid,” Yoongi grimaced, taking a deep breath. “When I first met you, I thought you were incredible. You were this shy, vibrant kid who had a lot of passion for music and I liked that. I dug that a lot. Then we slept together and I thought you were still pretty cool and, just, I was scared. The last virgin I slept with ended up getting emotionally attached to me and—yeah, let’s just say it wasn’t a fun time. So I thought the same thing was going to happen with you.

“But you’re different, Jeongguk. It sounds cliché and stupid, but you are. You’re sincere and you’ve always been the more mature one out of the two of us. I was terrified of this whole thing mainly because I don’t really have experience with it, and the whole feelings thing—” he groaned, Jeongguk chuckled “—I’m—it’s not that I don’t feel things, I just don’t really know how to handle it when it comes like a bitchslap to the face.”

Jeongguk simpered quietly, “You’re saying your feelings about me slapped you in the face?”

“Felt like it, yeah. That whole lightbulb moment.”

“So, what you’re trying to say is, you were scared I would get attached because I, as you believed, was a virgin before I met you, and I did end up getting attached but not because of that, but now you’re attached too?”

Well, when he put it that way, it sounded so simple. “I guess—no, I mean, yeah. That’s exactly it.”

“So you like me?”

“Um, yes,” Yoongi squinted, unsure if it were a trick question.

“Like, like like me?”

Yoongi pulled a face. “Dude, we’re not five. Yes, I like you—in a way that I want to take you out to dinner and then have you for dessert in my bed.”

“God, yes,” Jeongguk groaned. Don’t get hard, Yoongi. “I want that. I mean, you’re bad at emotions or whatever but we’ll figure this out. Don’t worry. We’ll do it together.”

“Wait, so you do want me? Like you really want me?”

“How is this different from me asking if you like like me?”

The elder huffed, “I’m just being careful.”

“You’re cute.”

Yoongi tinged a deep pink. “Thanks?”

“Also, I wasn’t a virgin.”

He blinked.

“I don’t know what made you think that but I wasn’t.”

“Wait, but you—thanked me? After the sex?”

Jeongguk shrugged, a ghost of a smile still dancing on his lips. “It’s just a thank you for a good time. Common courtesy, you know.”

Yoongi was going to kill Namjoon. How was he always right?

“Fuck, you’re too cute,” the elder huffed fondly.

It was Jeongguk’s turn to blush. “Thanks, glad you think so.”

“So, uh, any plans after this?”

“You trying to offer to take me home?”

“Maybe.”

“To fuck?”

“It’s a school night, you’ve got classes tomorrow so no.”

Jeongguk pouted, “But it’s just sex.”

“Don’t you kids have a curfew?”

“Dude.”

To tie up this cheesy, little tale, Yoongi had to admit that he was an absolute fool for the entirety of his start with Jeongguk. The kid was sweet and a hard-worker. He was everything Yoongi liked in a person and more.

They took turns sleeping at each other’s places, sometimes ending up in the studio to cuddle whenever Jeongguk finished a tough exam or Yoongi winded down from working on a track too long. They would fuck each other one day, and snuggle another.

A year later, they’re working on getting their own apartment. With Yoongi working more hours, he picked up a place closer to the studio and—well, he had invited Jeongguk to stay with him if he’d like. Jeongguk didn’t even blink once before he jumped on the offer. Living together meant sharing chores and Yoongi liked the domesticity, liked that he vacuumed and scrubbed the dishes while Jeongguk did laundry and rinsed the plates.

Jeongguk was thoughtful and, turned out, he really did always thank Yoongi and curl up into his boyfriend (Jeongguk cried every time Yoongi called him that) after they slept together (he didn’t like to admit it but Jeongguk loved being the little spoon). When Yoongi made dinner as best he could, Jeongguk would reward him with a blowjob or a cuddling session—both equally as wonderful that Namjoon would gag to either one.

Yoongi didn’t think this was where his life would go, especially not with this entire mess, but for now, he was just grateful that he got his happy ending.

#bts #yoongi #jungkook #yoonkook #bts smut #bts angst #yoonkook smut #yoonkook angst #yoonkook fic #yoonkook fanfiction #bts fic #anyway THIS CAUSED ME SO MUCH PAIN AND IM JUST GLAD I CAN RELEASE IT INTO THE WILD #i love yoonkook my children

[bad-draft-stuff]

c. AU 5

spoop increas

Arsé-kun: -Tuesday, October 26th- Sheepy: *Dove has entered the path! He's curiously looking around.* Arsé-kun: Kay: *prodding Elyan* Hey, water, can you absorb lung water too? Sheepy: Elyan: *he blankly stares at Kay* Arsé-kun: Kay: I gotta do everything myself?! Sheepy: *Grif coughs up water!* Arsé-kun: *Combo move! Kay pats his back to help.* Arsé-kun rolled a die with 20 sides. The die showed: 20 Sheepy: *Grif successfully clears his lungs of water! He's a little disoriented but he's breathing again!* Arsé-kun: Kay: You're alive. Welcome back, moron. *he looks relieved* No dying. Arsé-kun: Kay: I told you that isn't allowed. Sheepy: Grif: Ugh... Grandpa... Arsé-kun: Kay: Hey, you keep telling me to meet your dad. Stop thinking about getting exploded and look up. Sheepy: Grif: *he looks up* ...?! Sheepy: Grif: Ah... he's here! Sheepy: Dove: Wooow~! So this is a college krampus! Arsé-kun: Kay: If you're moron, he's the big moron. ... point made. Sheepy: Grif: If water beasts went here instead, it'd be a hippo-campus. ...Ha. Ha. Ha. Sheepy: Grif: ....Kay? Did you save me? Arsé-kun: Kay: Yeah. Your dad and Elyan helped. Bedi's gonna kill me, figuratively. Sheepy: Grif: Uh... thanks. Arsé-kun: Kay: 'Course. No deaths here. You goddamn stop that. Sheepy: Dove: Where are we headed, human? Arsé-kun: Kay: Well, our dorm is that way.. Sheepy: Dove: Oh, oh! I get to visit a dorm! Arsé-kun: Kay: They're human sized, though... Sheepy: Dove: Worry not! I can fit. Arsé-kun: Kay: ....... Can we climb in the window??? Sheepy: Dove: Do you want to? Arsé-kun: Kay: Yes. Sheepy: Dove: Okay, sure! Sheepy: Dove: Are we close? Arsé-kun: Kay: Yeah... Oh, I see our resident wizard at a window. There he is, right there, like seven over to the left. Hi, bitch! Sheepy: Dove: *he lifts up Kay, Grif, and Elyan to the window* Sheepy: Dove: I have a wizard friend. Arsé-kun: Merlin: *he opens the window, staring at Dove with wide eyes* That's a dragon! That's a whole ass dragon!! Hoooly shit! Sheepy: Grif: He's my dad. Sheepy: Dove: Hello, wizard! Have you met my wizard friend before? Arsé-kun: Merlin: I only know like three other wizards, and they're my immediate family, so probably not! *wow, wow! dragon! cool!* Sheepy: Dove: You smell like him! Arsé-kun: Merlin: That's ominous! *he finally moves out of the way so Kay can climb in. Kay turns around and helps Grif in* Sheepy: Grif:..Thanks. *he accepts the help! He needed it.* Sheepy: Dove: Well, I like you, because you smell like him. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Is it Malleus? Sheepy: Dove: Oh! I know him. Sheepy: Dove: Very nice guy. But after I meet him, I always end up making a big mistake. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Well, tell him he's a jerk for me. He's taught me almost nothing other than the basics, and I didn't know who you were! Sheepy: Dove: You don't know me? I don't know you either. Sheepy: Dove: However, I bet you're the 14th one! Arsé-kun: Merlin: I'm Merlin the 14th, yep! Sheepy: Dove: I'm Dove! I've known your family since the very first Merlin. I'm starting to think Misyr doesn't like me because he never interacts with me anymore and never invites me over. Arsé-kun: Merlin: You're ancient..! *o* Sheepy: Dove: No, I'm Dove! Arsé-kun: Kay: This is where Grif got it from. Sheepy: Dove: Like the bird. You know they're a type of pigeon? Arsé-kun: Merlin: No, I know your name is Dove, sir, I was just saying..! Sheepy: Dove: Eh? But the original Merlin came first. So in a way, I'm only almost as old as your family, right? Sheepy: Dove:...Although, most humans don't live that long, so maybe it is a long time... Arsé-kun: Merlin: Yes, and yes. Sheepy: Dove: Myrrdin tells me things like "follow me on twitter"and such. Arsé-kun: Merlin: ... Myrrdin? Sheepy: Dove: He's the third one. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Third?! He's alive still?! Sheepy: Dove: He lives with his wife and kid. Arsé-kun: *Merlin looks like someone told him that tomorrow is Christmas* Sheepy: Dove: What's a twitter? Is it useful to you? Arsé-kun: Merlin: It is, yes. It's like.... Writing to other people. But with computers. Sheepy: Dove: He told me it. Do you want to know it? Arsé-kun: Merlin: You know it?? Sheepy: Dove: I forgot it. Arsé-kun: Merlin: ... Sheepy: Dove: I don't have a twitter. Sheepy: Dove: But maybe he'll find you. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Scary. Sheepy: Dove: He isn't! Sheepy: Dove: But he's the least likely to come visit... he's anxious outside and prefers staying indoors. Arsé-kun: Merlin: That makes it sound like grandpa Malleus is an outside person. Sheepy: Dove: He does in comparison!! Sheepy: Dove: One is obsessed with coffee. What does it taste like? Sheepy: Dove: I wanted to try it but he said that coffee is bad for lizards. Arsé-kun: Merlin: It's bitter. Sheepy: Dove: I don't like bitter things. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Me neither. I prefer pizza. Sheepy: Dove: I mentioned him earlier. Misyr, number six. He's a demon king. He's still alive!... Oh, I know pizza! Sheepy: Dove: It's a structure in France! Arsé-kun: Kay: *distantly* That's the Leaning Tower of Pisa, and it's Italy! Sheepy: Dove: I wondered why I got confused looks when I called it that. Sheepy: Dove: He used to have white hair. He disappeared for a long time and now he has purple hair. I've heard this is called an emo phase. Sheepy: Dove: However, emos are usually more bird like, aren't they? Arsé-kun: Merlin: Sir, that's an emu you're thinking of. Sheepy: Dove: My favorite is Merlin!! Arsé-kun: Merlin: Wh-which one? Sheepy: Dove: One. Arsé-kun: Merlin: O-oh... Arsé-kun: *Merlin stops to think* Arsé-kun: Merlin: ... Does the first go by any other names? Sheepy: Dove: He does. Arsé-kun: Merlin: ....... Is it Primo? Sheepy: Dove: Yes. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Pardon me briefly? *he turns around and just* Nani the actual heck?? Sheepy: Aru: You didn't know? Arsé-kun: Merlin: I didn't know he was the first! Sheepy: Aru: Which did you think he was? Sheepy: Aru: With every generation becoming further and further disconnected from King Arthur, it'd have to be an early one, right? Most wouldn't bother with me. They're too busy doing wizard things. Arsé-kun: Merlin: I thought he was at least a later one... I didn't think the original was still doing his thing... Sheepy: Aru: I guess it'd make sense if he was doing things like going on vacation to Bermuda. Sheepy: Aru: ...He is... Arsé-kun: Merlin: ... And then he hijacked me instead of calling. Sheepy: Aru: He's really a jerk, isn't he? Arsé-kun: Merlin: Can I legally call him an old tart? Sheepy: Aru: Yes. Sheepy: Aru: I'm starting to think part of the reason why he's making me stay here is for vacation, so you're kind of a glorified babysitter... Arsé-kun: Merlin: He better pay me! Sheepy: Aru: You need to teach me more if you want to be paid. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Sure, but not now..! Maybe in the afternoon. Sheepy: Aru: Really? You will? Arsé-kun: Merlin: Yeah, you'll just need to stop me from taking fifty selfies with a whole ass dragon. Sheepy: Aru: How? Sheepy: Aru: I can't stop you. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Magic missile. Sheepy: Aru: I can do that! Arsé-kun: Merlin: Sick. I'm going to bed so Bedi isn't lonely. Good luck, Aru. Sheepy: Aru: Mine was stolen by Kay so I'm going to steal his. Sheepy: Dove: Good night! Arsé-kun: *Kay is, in fact, collapsed on the sofa. He has given up for the night.* Sheepy: *Aru heads to bed* Arsé-kun: *As does Merlin* Arsé-kun: *skip to the next morning* Sheepy: Bedi: Good morning! Arsé-kun: Kay: *grunts eloquently* Sheepy: Bedi: How are you feeling? Arsé-kun: Kay: Cold. Tired. Not ready for mental scarring the class. Sheepy: Grif: I will protect you. Sheepy: *Despite saying this, Grif looks exhausted.* Arsé-kun: *Kay stops and stares at Grif particularly hard* Sheepy: Grif: What? Arsé-kun: *Kay just looks sad for a moment before sneezing into his sleeve. It's gone now.* Sheepy: Grif: Did yesterday's experience make you sick? Awful. All thanks to my weakness. I need to grow stronger. Arsé-kun: Kay: You mean you'll die again probably? Shut up. Sheepy: Grif: ? Sheepy: Grif: Of course. The purpose of my body is to protect others. I'll die as many times as it takes. Arsé-kun: Kay: What if you fuckin' didn't? Sheepy: Grif: It's what I'm built for. Arsé-kun: *Kay punches Grif's shoulder (-1 hp) and leaves the room* Sheepy: Grif:...? Sheepy: Grif: Kay? Arsé-kun: *Kay is Very Bitter™* Sheepy: Grif: Hmmm... He must be angry he ended up getting sick thanks to my weakness. I can't really tank Grandpa's attacks though... Arsé-kun: Kay: Fuck off, haven't I told you to stop dying like a bitch? Motherfucker, if a shitty normal human like me can save your ass, then you can do fucking better. Arsé-kun: Kay: ... But I guess I did, so does that mean I can... *he glances at Bedi and shakes his head* Nah. Never mind. Obviously not. Sheepy: Bedi:...? Sheepy: Grif: Hm...hmmm... So next time, I just have to tank it...? Arsé-kun: Kay: This moron can nearly drown himself and there's no safety rant? Sheepy: Bedi: Um... Sheepy: Bedi: Well, he's not really in the same situation as us. Arsé-kun: Kay: Obviously not if he can die like the rest of us. Sheepy: Bedi: But we wouldn't come back. Arsé-kun: Kay: *he shrugs* Won't know till we try. Sheepy: Bedi: That isn't something we can just test! Arsé-kun: Kay: It isn't? Aw. There goes my plans for the day. Sheepy: Bedi:?! Sheepy: Bedi: Kay...! Sheepy: Grif: I don't understand. Arsé-kun: Kay: Good. Sheepy: Grif: Why do you care about me dying so much? Arsé-kun: Kay: Because one of these goddamn days, you're not going to get revived and then what?! Sheepy: Grif: Dad will only not revive me when my purpose is complete, I think. Arsé-kun: Kay: God. I used to think I was bad. Sheepy: Grif:...? Arsé-kun: Kay: ... Look, Griflet. Let me put this very simply for you; You dying is extremely distressful to anyone that isn't you! That isn't remotely something a normal person would be okay with! I'm not, either! So shut up, eat shit, and fuck right off with that! Sheepy: Grif:...So don't die when anyone can see me... Arsé-kun: Kay: .... You're so fucking stupid. Sheepy: Grif: Hmm...hmmm... it's difficult. Sheepy: Grif: I can't just not die. I'm not strong enough. Knights can save everyone and survive. I'm not a knight. Not yet. Arsé-kun: Kay: Knights are people too. They died eventually, you optimistic shitbag. Sheepy: Grif: What? Sheepy: Grif: So knights are human... Sheepy: Grif: I suppose a dragon could never be a knight. But I can't stop trying. I like humans. I want to protect them. Arsé-kun: Kay: That wasn't the fucking point!! Sheepy: Grif: ...? Arsé-kun: Kay: Okay, here, I got it. Imagine being told, by someone else, that they're going to protect you. And then they get fucking obliterated. Do you know how shitty that is? Sheepy: Grif: They're too weak to protect you. Arsé-kun: Kay: Guess who ate shit last night? Shockingly, this time it wasn't me. Arsé-kun: Kay: Now take that? Sheepy: Grif:..... Sheepy: Grif: To declare with such confidence that I'd protect you after my display last night... Of course you're angry. Arsé-kun: Kay: Not only that... But yeah, lets leave it there. Sheepy: Grif: I have to grow stronger. I can't do that again. You've already lost confidence in me. Arsé-kun: Kay: And now I feel like shit. And I lost my phone. For you. *he jabs Grif in the chest with a finger* I didn't have to do that. But guess what, moron? Sheepy: Grif: You lost it... for me? Sheepy: Grif: Why? Arsé-kun: Kay: You're still a fucking person, alien dragon bitch or not. Fuck you, fuck you, and also? Fuck you. Arsé-kun: Kay: Now fuck off, I have hell class and I'm going to cry. Sheepy: Grif: Uh... Sheepy: Grif: ....Thanks. For helping me. Even though you knew I would'vd just revived. Sheepy: Grif: I can give you money for a new one when I have enough. Arsé-kun: Kay: Yeah, okay. Sheepy: Grif: Let's not do water levels again any time soon. Arsé-kun: Kay: I'm going to buy you a fucking lifejacket. Sheepy: Grif: What's that? Arsé-kun: Kay: Helps you not fucking drown. Floatie. Sheepy: Grif: Gills. Arsé-kun: Kay: No. Sheepy: Grif: Fins? Arsé-kun: Kay: How would that help if you can't use them? Sheepy: Grif: Fish know how to use them because they have them. Arsé-kun: Kay: .... Bedi, can you get on with the part where you're mad at my shit decisions? Sheepy: Bedi: I'm not mad. Arsé-kun: Kay: what Sheepy: Bedi: I'm just worried. Arsé-kun: Kay: Okay, the part where you're disappointed with my shit decisions. Sheepy: Bedi: It doesn't bring me joy, but... Sheepy: Bedi: I know if it were Merlin or you, I would've done the same thing. Arsé-kun: Kay: ........ *he seems startled slightly* ...... I've been literally waiting for the verbal beatdown here. Sheepy: Bedi: You've already been punished enough. Arsé-kun: Kay: Apparently not if I'm expecting it. Sheepy: Bedi: You're sick. Arsé-kun: Kay: I sneezed once. Sheepy: Bedi: Umm... Sheepy: Bedi: Well, you had to... swim in gross water? Arsé-kun: Kay: ..... *he shudders* I just realized now how gross that actually was... That slug kept corpses..! Sheepy: Bedi: Ahahaha... don’t come too close to me until you take a shower, okay? Sheepy: Grif: He’s poisonous too. Arsé-kun: Kay: Better throw out the couch!! Hoorah. *end sarcasm* Sheepy: Bedi: We need that. I do feel like deepcleaning it, though... Arsé-kun: Kay: I'll probably join you after. Sheepy: Grif:...? Sheepy: Grif: Is it that bad? Arsé-kun: Kay: Lucan would probably get sick after poking it. That's my litmus test and it means it's dirty. Sheepy: Grif: I see. That's bad. Sheepy: Grif: And the kid usually sleeps on it so I guess it needs to be cleaned. Arsé-kun: Kay: You get it. Finally, you understood something Sheepy: Grif: I did it. Arsé-kun: Kay: ... But still, fuck you and your tendency to throw yourself under the bus. Sheepy: Grif:? Arsé-kun: Kay: If the next thing out of your stupid face is "What bus?", I'm going to personally block you from showering. Sheepy: Grif: No! Arsé-kun: Kay: Cool, because I'm going first anyway. Suffer. Sheepy: Grif: I guess you are less used to it. Fine. That works. Arsé-kun: *Kay exits scene a second time. He can be seen taking clothes into the bathroom a little bit after.* Sheepy: Grif: *he waits* Arsé-kun: *Kay reappears about twenty minutes later, Simple and Clean™* Sheepy: Grif: You're finally done. Arsé-kun: Kay: What do you mean "finally"? Sheepy: Grif: I was waiting. Sheepy: Grif: Now I don't have to. Arsé-kun: Kay: Yeah, ok, get in there then, Mr. Impatient. Sheepy: Grif: Fine. Sheepy: *Grif heads to the shower.* Sheepy: Bedi: I guess we should get to work, right? Arsé-kun: Kay: Yeeep. I'll get the bleach. Sheepy: Bedi: Good idea. Sheepy: *Bedi gets. ready to clean!* Arsé-kun: *Kay gets, the bleach* Arsé-kun: *and the necessary equipment ofc* Sheepy: Bedi: I'm not looking forward to this. Arsé-kun: Kay: Oh, me neither. But it's gotta get done. Remember gloves go on both hands this time. Sheepy: Bedi: Right. Sheepy: Bedi: I wonder if Merlin would be willing to help. Sheepy: Bedi:...No, I shouldn't ask him to. Arsé-kun: Kay: He'll be on fire before the couch is. Sheepy: Bedi: *he puts the gloves on* Let's not ask for his help. If we wanted to set it on fire, we could just ask Grif's dad. Sheepy: Bedi: Maybe he'd buy a new sofa for us... ahaha, that's a joke, of course. Sheepy: Bedi: Although, the few times I'd met him when I was a kid, I got the impression he threw money around... Arsé-kun: Kay: So an accountant's nightmare. Sheepy: Bedi: Right. Arsé-kun: Kay: I am disgusted. Sheepy: Bedi: He looked human. I wasn't aware he wasn't. Arsé-kun: Kay: Why would you?? Sheepy: Bedi: Well, he neber presented himself like this, but if he had, I would've known. Arsé-kun: Kay: Yeah, because being a huge scaly disaster wouldn't be an obvious hint. Sheepy: Bedi: I wonder who else is a dragon in disguise... Arsé-kun: Kay: Probably no one else. You can't be a special snowflake if there's others. Sheepy: Bedi: I bet being a dragon is boring. Arsé-kun: Kay: They're just smart lizards. Sheepy: Bedi: What do they do wirh their day? Breathe fire? Fly around? Birds can fly but they predominantly just spend their day sitting and staring at nothing. Arsé-kun: Kay: They can't even do those things with airplanes and shit. Sheepy: Bedi: Airplanes really ruined dragons' lives... Arsé-kun: Kay: I think the part where people slayed them ruined their lives. Sheepy: Bedi: But usually dragons get slain because they eat people, right? Arsé-kun: Kay: And then people expect all of them to and kill them on sight. Sheepy: Bedi: You're right. Sheepy: Bedi: Poor dragons.... Arsé-kun: Merlin: Poor me! Why's it smell like bleach in here?? Sheepy: Bedi: We’re cleaning. Arsé-kun: *Merlin opens the window, because Fuck This* Sheepy: Bedi: You can help if you’d like. Arsé-kun: Merlin: I'd rather get shot, thanks. Sheepy: Bedi: Really? I wouldn't. Sheepy: Bedi: It's important to keep a clean living space for guests. Sheepy: Bedi: For example, what if Lucan visited? This would be a bad environment for him. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Yeah, because it smells like bleach. Sheepy: Bedi: But also the couch has poison on it. Arsé-kun: Merlin: it what Sheepy: Bedi: Apparently so... Sheepy: Bedi: Because Kay slept on it. Arsé-kun: Kay: There's a joke here, but don't make it. Sheepy: Bedi:....I guess this means Grif's bed has poison on it too? Arsé-kun: Kay: ... Yep. Sheepy: Bedi: Well, I doubt he cares, so it might be hard to convince him to clean it. Sheepy: Bedi: And Lucan isn't too keen on Grif anyway, so it shouldn't be an issue in that respect, but all the same... Sheepy: *Elyan is watching them clean instead of helping* Sheepy: Bedi: Irrelevant, but I wonder if Halloween will still happen. Arsé-kun: Kay: It's never been cancelled before. Sheepy: Bedi: But Glaaki might causeit to be cancelled with what he did. Arsé-kun: Kay: ... That's fair. Sheepy: Bedi: It'd be too bad. I enjoy it, despite how awkward Lucan seemed to be with it in the past. Dad would bring us out trick or treating and leave Mom at home so she could, as he said, "have a good time of her own". I wonder, is trick or treating really so taxing on parents? Arsé-kun: Merlin: Well, someone had to give candy to other trick or treaters! Sheepy: Bedi: Oh, that makes sense. Sheepy: Bedi: But you'd think he'd eventually swap jobs with her... Arsé-kun: Kay: Maybe it's tradition. Sheepy: Bedi: Oh, maybe. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Maybe it's maybelline Sheepy: Bedi: Merlin? Did yours do that too? Arsé-kun: Merlin: Do what? Sheepy: Bedi: Well, your dad going out and your mom passing the candy out. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Oh, yeah, two people'd go out on Halloween night and one stayed home. Not like that, exactly, but almost. Sheepy: Bedi: Eh? Sheepy: Bedi: It seems like it could be fun. Arsé-kun: Kay: What, leaving someone home alone? Sheepy: Bedi: Handing out candy. Sheepy: Bedi: You get to see allof the costumes. Arsé-kun: Merlin: That's true! But then how do you get candy? Sheepy: Bedi: From the store I guess. Arsé-kun: Merlin: That's not free. Sheepy: Bedi: It has to be free? Arsé-kun: Merlin: I mean, you don't pay people for their candy when you knock! Sheepy: Bedi: I know someone who'd probably charge parents for candy just to see their reaction. Sheepy: Bedi: That someone is Lucan. Sheepy: Bedi: Speaking of which, I haven't checked on him. I should. Arsé-kun: Kay: May as well. Sheepy: Bedi: I guess I can do it later. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Well, you guys have fun. I'm gonna go buy a drink and not smell bleach. Sheepy: Bedi: Have fun. Stay safe. Arsé-kun: Merlin: I'll do my best. Sheepy: Bedi: Right. Sheepy: *Are you ready for the coffee shop, Merlin? Its usual guest is there again today!* Arsé-kun: *If you mean Wilbur right next to a coffee machine, you're right.* Sheepy: *Misyr is also there! He's drinking coffee.* Arsé-kun: *Shocker.* Sheepy: *Misyr, for once, seems more interested in a person than his coffee. That person is Merlin. It's rude to stare, Misyr!* Arsé-kun rolled a die with 20 sides. The die showed: 20 Arsé-kun: ∑(͡°◞౪◟͡° ) Arsé-kun: *MERLIN HAS GAINED INSIGHT.* Arsé-kun: *no ok but he did notice Misyr very quickly* Sheepy: Misyr: *He takes a sip of his coffee but doesn't break his gaze on Merlin. He can two track after all!* Arsé-kun: *Merlin stops to stare at him. What fuck you want* Sheepy: Misyr: Ahahaha. I knew it. I do know you! Sheepy: Misyr: Have we talked before? Sheepy: Misyr: I guess you can know someone without talking to them. Arsé-kun: Merlin: I don't think so. I've seen you before, but I don't think we've spoken. Sheepy: Misyr: My name's Misyr, everyone's favorite demon king! It's good to finally meet you, Merlin. Arsé-kun: *Merlin grabs an iced coffee and pays for it before sitting across from Misyr* Arsé-kun: Merlin: If you're who I think you are, then finally, someone that could actually teach me something! Sheepy: Misyr: Nobody has taught you anything yet? Arsé-kun: Merlin: Grandpa lives in a cabin in the middle of fuck-nowhere, my parents are hippies, and I still set fires so no, not really! Sheepy: Misyr: Well, I could try to help, but I'd have to be careful. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Oh yeah, the dragon's annoyed that you don't talk to him. Sheepy: Misyr: Demon kings are almost always a final boss. If I got super into it, I could blow up the sun or something! Ahahaha! Sheepy: Misyr: But at the end of the day, you could be the midboss! Sheepy: Misyr: I just can't teach you at night. Sheepy: Misyr: That's okay, right? Arsé-kun: Merlin: That sounds fine! Sheepy: Misyr: Great! Sheepy: Misyr: I'm almost always here during the day. That's where you can find me. Arsé-kun: Merlin: If you don't mind, though, I might bring my temporary student, because old tart Gramps is in the Bermudas or something? He dumped his student on me. Sheepy: Misyr: Oh, his favorite place to vacation. Arsé-kun: Merlin: ..... So this happens a lot? Sheepy: Misyr: Yup! Arsé-kun: Merlin: Ah.. Sheepy: Misyr: Lucky for me, he can't stick any students on me. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Because of demons? Sheepy: Misyr: Yup. Sheepy: Misyr: Plus, it'd be super awkward if they were staying with me and some wannabe hero came and stabbed me with some legendary sword, huh? Arsé-kun: Merlin: You don't have trap doors installed for this situation? Sheepy: Misyr: Well, of course I do. But a really good hero should be able to survive all that. Sheepy: Misyr: You have to give the hero a chance or else they'll be discouraged and give up. That's no fun. Arsé-kun: Merlin: You did give them a chance, that's why they got close. Sheepy: Misyr: Maybe a trap door would be a good idea... Sheepy: Misyr: Yeah, I'll think about adding that! Sheepy: Misyr: I can let Primo fall in it if he ever visits. Arsé-kun: Merlin: I'd like to see that. Sheepy: Misyr: By the way, did something happen last night? I heard murmurings today but I was at home as usual last night so I didn't see anything. Arsé-kun: Merlin: A lake slug tried to abduct people! And apparently me? The old coot didn't even ask if he was allowed to talk through me, jerk. How did he even..?? Sheepy: Misyr: Welcome to classic Primo! Arsé-kun: Merlin: Not looking forward to that again! Sheepy: Misyr: He hasn't done it to me for a long time. Sheepy: Misyr: Did you know? He has a phone. Arsé-kun: Merlin: I do now. Sheepy: Misyr: Why can't he just use that? Arsé-kun: Merlin: I mean, okay, he probably saved my life doing it but... Rude?? Sheepy: Misyr: Well, I guess he can be forgiven a little. Sheepy: Misyr: He's still not as fun as my grandpa was. You're the 14th, right? I'm the 6th. My grandpa liked blowing things up. Arsé-kun: Merlin: See, that sounds like fun! Grandpa thirteen just hides away from people all the time. Sheepy: Misyr: He sounds like a wet blanket. Arsé-kun: Merlin: He taught me the bare minimum and then kicked me out so I wouldn't get jinxed. Sheepy: Misyr: A real wet blanket! He reminds me of 3. Sheepy: Misyr: "People want to burn wizards and witches at the stake, so I'd rather stay inside". Sheepy: Misyr:....That's still a thing, isn't it? Arsé-kun: Merlin: Pffff, no way. Not with the shit off path! Sheepy: Misyr: Hahaha... Well, I guess I'm not really as up to date as I thought. Sheepy: Misyr: I haven't really visited the meetings. Sheepy: Misyr: They go on way too long and I've got responsibilities to attend to constantly. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Meetings...? Sheepy: Misyr: Yeah, Primo has all the existing Merlins meet up at his house. Some go. Others don't. Sheepy: Misyr: They're fun, but can I really leave my people for so long? Arsé-kun: Merlin: Probably not... But it sounds fun. Sheepy: Misyr: It's not so fun listening to Myrrdin complain, but otherwise, it's alright. Arsé-kun: Merlin: It's better than being on campus all day..! Sheepy: Misyr: Well, you could attend if you wanted to, probably. Sheepy: Misyr: They have no reason to turn you away. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Damn, I'll have to try and find out when the next one is then. Sheepy: Misyr: I haven't been to one for forever. I guess we could text Primo and find out. Ahahaha! Not so flashy for a demon king, huh? Sheepy: Misyr: And yet...! It's the coolest thing! Arsé-kun: Merlin: You can talk to someone across the world in seconds... Sheepy: Misyr: I know someone who masters technology the moment it hits his hands... Really, that's a true wizard! Arsé-kun: Merlin: But is it Arsé-kun: Merlin: But is it an installation wizard Sheepy: Misyr: I think he's an angel, actually Arsé-kun: Merlin: .... *his joke was not caught and he sounds disappointed* Bazinga. Gottem. Sheepy: Misyr: I'm so busy with work I missed a lot of progress. Sheepy: Misyr: But I bet some Merlins are further behind. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Yeah, probably Malleus. Sheepy: Misyr: ...Ouch, am I really so far behind? Arsé-kun: Merlin: Apparently! Sheepy: Misyr: I guess fixating on coffee for so long didn't benefit me very much. Sheepy: Misyr: Maybe if I worked here... No, I doubt the pay's very good. I don't have time anyway. Arsé-kun: Merlin: I dunno. I never asked about that. Sheepy: Misyr: Everyone here looks so stressed and depressed. A good cup of coffee could help. Arsé-kun: Merlin: That's probably why so many of us come here. Sheepy: Misyr: It's too bad the coffee isn't, well.. Sheepy: Misyr: How do you stand it every day? Arsé-kun: Wilbur: *semi-distantly* Then make it yourself! Make it your damn self! Sheepy: Misyr: Ahahaha! You're telling me to make it? ... I might. Sheepy: Misyr: Really? Can I? Arsé-kun: Wilbur: If Duncan can sit in here and not be stared at when he looks like the Elephant's Foot radiation pool, then who gives a rat's ass? Not the staff. Sheepy: Misyr: Oh! Let's have fun then! Sheepy: Misyr: What can I use? Arsé-kun: Wilbur: Not this pot. I'm drinking out of it still. Sheepy: Misyr: That's the only pot I bet. Arsé-kun: Wilbur: There's a few behind the counter. Sheepy: Misyr: So I can just... go behind the counter? Sheepy: Misyr: I don't work here. Arsé-kun: Merlin: There's never anyone behind there that I know of. There's an adult somewhere in the building! But not here. Sheepy: Misyr: I'm an adult. Arsé-kun: Merlin: An adult-adult, not a college kid. I mean a teacher. Sheepy: Misyr: Eh... Sheepy: Misyr: I'm not a college kid either... Sheepy: Misyr: I'm just showing up for the heck of it. Arsé-kun: *Wilbur just goes and gets another coffee pot before putting it in front of Misyr* Sheepy: Misyr: I knew if I kept talking I'd get what I wanted! Arsé-kun: Wilbur: Don't. I might make you eat dirt. Sheepy: Misyr: Ehhh?! When'd it become okay to threaten poor old Misyr?! Arsé-kun: Merlin: Probably when you said you'd nuke the sun! Sheepy: Misyr:... The old part is a figure of speech, of course. I'm still really young. Sheepy: Misyr: Hey, I could, but I won't! Sheepy: Misyr: *he collects together the necessary materials to make coffee* Hey, Merlin, I can show you how to make a cup of coffee. That's a good lesson, right? Arsé-kun: Merlin: I'd like it to be! Sheepy: Misyr: Well, great! Consider it our first lesson. Ahaha, you'll be a mini boss in no time! Arsé-kun: Merlin: Mini-boss... Sheepy: *Misyr snaps his fingers. Both he and the coffee tools + ingredients begin floating!* Sheepy: Misyr: Well, it's progress towards being a final boss, right? Arsé-kun: *Merlin is paying attention, but has already learned nothing* Sheepy: *Misyr does his best to explain the steps of both levitation and making coffee.* Sheepy rolled a die with 20 sides. The die showed: 20 Arsé-kun: *Merlin is taking careful notes on both of these things* Sheepy: *Misyr is somehow containing his excitement enough to deliver a coherent, thought out lesson. Good job!* Arsé-kun: *Hooray!!!!* Sheepy: *Misyr finishes, looking pleased with himself!* Sheepy: Misyr: Ahaha, it's simple once you've done it a few times! I used to break the cups a lot, so if you try it at home, you might want to buy cups from somewhere. Sheepy: Misyr: Or else you'll run out of cups. Sheepy: Misyr: And making coffee without cups, well... Arsé-kun: Merlin: That'd be a mess. Sheepy: Misyr: It's what it must feel like to be Wilbur. Arsé-kun: Wilbur: Unending hell zone, act one. Sheepy: Misyr: Ahahaha! I know it well, as a demon king! Sheepy: Misyr: Oh, right. Sheepy: Misyr: I have a strict schedule so if I get too into it during a lesson and I'm running overtime, make sure to point it out. I can't leave my duties even for a second. Arsé-kun: Merlin: When would that be? Sheepy: Misyr: 9 PM. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Okay, I'll try to remember that. Sheepy: Misyr: Great, thanks! Sheepy: Misyr: Sometimes I have to leave early. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Hell's awful strict, huh? Sheepy: Misyr: Well, they can get rowdy. Sheepy: Misyr: Imagine if I didn't act like a good role model in front of them. At least one of the other Merlins would scold me. Arsé-kun: Merlin: I guess that's fair. Sheepy: Misyr: I wouldn't take it too seriously from anyone after me, although, on that note... 10 would be pretty scary. "I'll accept your mistakes if you give to me a vial of your blood", basically. Arsé-kun: Merlin: wh Sheepy: Misyr: Oh, you haven't met him? He's a real charmer. ...I mean that sarcastically. He thinks I'm a good specimen and wants a blood sample. Arsé-kun: Merlin: You're the only one I've met that isn't grandpa or Primo. Sheepy: Misyr: Good luck meeting 3. Myrrdin. He rarely leaves the house. Arsé-kun: Merlin: I feel like meeting most of them might be hard... Sheepy: Misyr: Yeah... I guess your best bet would be one of the meetings. Sheepy: Misyr: I haven't been to one for a while, but I bet it's about the same in terms of members as the last time I went. Arsé-kun: Merlin: I, uh. I wouldn't know. Sheepy: Misyr: Soon you might find out! Sheepy: Misyr: I don't know if you have it, but only a few of us have a good enough form of it to receive useful information. Ahaha, of course, you'd expect a demon lord like me to be one of the lucky few! ...Aha, you'd expect wrong, because like any demon king, I'm only capable of destruction. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Ominous! Sheepy: Misyr: If you've got it, it's probably not worth putting too much trust into. Really, it's more trouble than it's worth. Arsé-kun: Merlin: What's "it"?? Sheepy: Misyr: The low quality clairvoyance basically every Merlin has after the first few. Arsé-kun: Merlin: I mean, I have expectations for things sometimes, but that's about it..? Sheepy: Misyr: Eh? Sheepy: Misyr:....Mine is imagery and symbolism... Like on the level of apocalyptic literature. You know, the goat with the four horns, the cows, the storm. Except I don't have scholars deducing it for me. Arsé-kun: Merlin: So it's hellish? ... Pardon the pun? Sheepy: Misyr: Ahahaha! Of course! What else would fit a demon lord? Arsé-kun: Merlin: A lot of fire? Sheepy: Misyr: Fire.... That's more Grandpa's thing. Arsé-kun: Merlin: ..... Do I wanna ask? Sheepy: Misyr: Although, I could snap my fingers and... bang!! Ahahaha, the sun is just a big firework! Arsé-kun: Merlin: But it's a literal orb of pyrotechnics already! Sheepy: Misyr: So if I explode the sun, it'll just grow? Arsé-kun: Merlin: Supernovas are bad! Sheepy: Misyr: Well, a final boss needs an ultimate move! Sheepy: Misyr: You should come up with an ultimate move, too, for if you ever become a final boss. Arsé-kun: Merlin: I can think of a setting, but not that. Sheepy: Misyr: I'd like mine to be in a cool palace. Arsé-kun: Merlin: I want a grassy hill, with flowers. At night. Sheepy: Misyr: Ooohh, stylish! Arsé-kun: *Wilbur has been sneaking into frame with the aim of investigating the coffee Misyr made. He is Interested to see some results* Sheepy: Misyr: Maybe a palace would be too flashy... Arsé-kun: Merlin: But blowing up the sun isn't? Sheepy: Misyr: Isn't that generic for demon kings? Arsé-kun: Merlin: Is it?? Sheepy: Misyr: That's what I've been told. Sheepy: Misyr: I thought it'd sound really powerful... Hey, maybe a flood. Sheepy: Misyr:...Nah, I don't really like floods. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Who does? Sheepy: Misyr: Ducks. Arsé-kun: Merlin: True! Sheepy: Bedi: --Hey, Merlin, you don't have to hide here all day. The smell will fade. Arsé-kun: *Merlin jumps slightly. Wasn't expecting that!* Sheepy: Bedi: It's not that bad out. Sheepy: Bedi: It's good you stepped out, though. Sheepy: Bedi: Grif ate a soap bar to, quote, "clean out his insides". Sheepy: Bedi: You didn't have to watch it live. Arsé-kun: Wilbur: Not again. Sheepy: Bedi:...Again? Arsé-kun: Wilbur: Again. Sheepy: Bedi: Why would he do this more than once? Arsé-kun: Wilbur: Just as you said. To clean out his insides. Sheepy: Bedi: He never learns... Arsé-kun: Merlin: .... So no one in the family is that stupid, right? ... Right? Sheepy: Misyr: Thank goodness, no. Arsé-kun: Merlin: So just my parents then, okay. Good thing I didn't inherit any of that. Sheepy: Misyr: They sound bad. Sheepy: Bedi: By the way, on the way here, I saw a dragon. That's Grif's dad, right? Should we be concerned about that? Arsé-kun: Merlin: I don't see a reason to be. Dragons are cool as hell. Sheepy: Bedi: Godzilla proved that buildings are allergic to large reptiles. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Godzilla is an aquatic reptile that doesn't live on land. Sheepy: Bedi: But dragons don't live in populated cities usually. Arsé-kun: Wilbur: Neither do eldritch abominations but here we are. Sheepy: Bedi: Yes... Sheepy: Bedi: That's true. Sheepy: Bedi: You're right, but if we go without any damage at all, I'll be shocked. Sheepy: Bedi: Now that I think of it... The belief of dragons generally comes from dinosaur bones and other unrelated things, right? So what happened to dragons' bones? Maybe... Maybe... Sheepy: Bedi: Maybe they don't have bones, so every time they've died, they just turn into dust after a while! Arsé-kun: *Merlin just looks to Misyr like he'll know* Sheepy: Misyr: Eh? Sheepy: Misyr: At the end of all things, everything will become dust. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Edgy! Sheepy: Misyr: Well, it's true. Sheepy: Bedi: If you want edgy, I've seen this guy follow Lucan around before who claimed that he was a fallen angel and was going to take Lucan's "cattle soul" to Eden. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Wow! That is edgy! Sheepy: Bedi: He mostly wore black and red. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Wow... A real edgelord.. Sheepy: Bedi: Yes... Sheepy: Bedi: Maybe it's an all year around Halloween thing. Arsé-kun: Merlin: All year around halloween? Sheepy: Il: If it's Halloween all year round, we'll never get our holiday themed fandisks. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Nah, it'd just mean everything else gets spooky! Sheepy: Il: If I could finally date Watson or Strand in Code:Realize, I'd be overjoyed with another fandisk, even if it's Halloween themed. Although, there'd be more Lupin merch to buy to celebrate its release... Sheepy: Il: By the way, please erase from your memories the weird things I said last night. Arsé-kun: Merlin: It wasn't that weird compared to your usual. That fucked with everybody. Sheepy: Il: Usual? Weird? Arsé-kun: Merlin: ... I was bluffing. I don't remember very much after erecting the barrier, probably 'cause I took a nap on the floor. Sheepy: Il: I've been told sleeping on the floor is bad for you. Arsé-kun: Merlin: It is. It hurts afterwards. Sheepy: Il: If you're in pain, you can go to Raphael, Frankenstein, or Watson. Sheepy: Il: We have worse doctors. Arsé-kun: Wilbur: At least this one hasn't dropped out of school. Sheepy: Il: Yes. He must be leagues better. Although it begs the question... Sheepy: Il: They couldn't be related, right? Arsé-kun: Wilbur: Who knows. Who cares? Sheepy: Il: Imagine. Sheepy: Il: Sherlock Holmes and John Watson solving the crimes of a modern day Frankenstein's monster. Arsé-kun: Wilbur: The monster's prints would match those of the already dead. It'd be a forensic nightmare. Sheepy: Il: But Holmes would solve the crime by noticing that the deceased's corpse was missing the hand used in the crimes and that a certain doctor had been seen inspecting multiple graveyards in the area previously. Arsé-kun: Wilbur: Implying they were seen there. Sheepy: Il: How sneaky! Sheepy: Il: I wonder if they exist anymore. Sheepy: Il: They show up regularly in otome games. I would like to go to one one day purely to look at a random grave and recreate classic scenes. Sheepy: Misyr: *cough, cough! He choked on his coffee.* Wh-WHAT?? Arsé-kun: Wilbur: You're not doing that. That's at least one level of messed up. Sheepy: Il: ? Sheepy: Il: Crying over graves is... "messed up"? Arsé-kun: Wilbur: Random ones, probably. No reason to do that, I'm told. Sheepy: Il: ?! Sheepy: Il: It's so difficult to understand... Arsé-kun: Wilbur: Have you considered learning from people and not fiction? It's good for you. Sheepy: Il: It's no different. Arsé-kun: Wilbur: It's extremely different. Sheepy: Il:.....? Sheepy: Il: People write fiction. I am learning from people. Arsé-kun: Wilbur: People write weird things sometimes. It's not always valuable. Arsé-kun: *Raph finds his adopted son finally. There's Il! There he is.* Sheepy: Il: I went out without supervision. I'm practicing rebellion. I learned of this concept from Lucan. Sheepy: Misyr: Let's not practice rebellion, okay? Sheepy: Il: Speaking of rebellion, I did something I've been explictly told not to do last night. Arsé-kun: *Raph lightly smacks Il with a newspaper. bad.* Sheepy: Il: I'm impervious to your attacks. Arsé-kun: Raph: You're not supposed to do that for a reason. The rest I can let stand. Sheepy: Il: But I helped. Arsé-kun: Raph: I'll wash your hard drive with sink water if you do that again. Sheepy: Il: ?! I have one...?! Arsé-kun: Raph: I doubt it, but it sounded good. Did you come over here and interrupt the conversation? Sheepy: Il: Not interrupt. Join and change the topic. Arsé-kun: Wilbur: You lasted ten seconds before changing the subject. I don't even recall what the original topic was now. Sheepy: Il: ? But usually that's how it works, right? Arsé-kun: Raph: Eh. Sheepy: Il: No need to spare my feelings. Sheepy: Misyr: No. Arsé-kun: Raph: It's really not how it works. Arsé-kun: *Merlin genuinely considers tipping the chair over to escape the situation.* Sheepy: Il: Oh. Right. Sheepy: Il: Merlin, your wall was punched through and zombies showed up. I'd recommend making it see through in the future. Arsé-kun: Merlin: .... That may be a good idea if I knew how to do that. Sheepy: Il: I can destroy it. Sheepy: Il: So if you make a faulty one, I can just break it. Arsé-kun: Merlin: That does not help. Sheepy: Il: ? Sheepy: Il: I'd only break fauly ones, so for me not to break it you'd simply have to make a clear one. Arsé-kun: Merlin: that does not teach me how to make it clear! Sheepy: Il: So eventually you'd learn. Sheepy: Il: Eventually, if you try every possible combination on a test, you'll get an A. Everything else is like this too. They wouldn't teach you like this otherwise. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Until the part where I self destruct on accident. Sheepy: Il: Have you tried self reconstruct? Arsé-kun: Merlin: Bud. You're expecting to me to know cool shit that I don't. Sheepy: Il: You know less than I thought. Sheepy: Il: With a name like Merlin, I thought you'd be like this one LI named Merlin in this Arthurian Legends based otome game. He's a flirt with a sad backstory, but more relevantly he's a powerful wizard capable of anything. Sheepy: Misyr: All it takes is getting famous to be able to be in a dating sim, huh? Who knows, maybe I'll end up in a dating sim one day as a handsome demon king! Ahahaha! Sheepy: Il: They only make dating sims about you after you've died, with few exceptions. Arsé-kun: Wilbur: After you've died, hm..? Sheepy: Il: Yes. With few exceptions, like dating sims based on celebrities. Arsé-kun: *Wilbur seems to be thinking* Sheepy: Il: How famous you are can also be a contributing factor. For example, in this dating sim, Lancelot is a route, but a lesser known knight like Bedwyr, who mostly just shows up in rpgs, doesn't have one. Arsé-kun: Merlin: If people can be named after him, then he can't be that little known though..!! Sheepy: Il: Of course. He's in Runescape. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Well, I guess I gotta fire up the ol' Runescape account to see that! Sheepy: Il: But he isn't in this dating sim. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Fair enough. And this one is mine, so he's not being in any. Sheepy: Bedi: Eh?? I wouldn't want to be in one! Arsé-kun: Merlin: Well, good! Sheepy: Bedi: Someone as normal as me really wouldn't be suited for such a role. Arsé-kun: *Merlin just kinda shrugs. He was gonna respond to it, but understands Bedi doesn't know enough about dating sims to get it.* Sheepy: Il: I've seen someone who feels like a dating sim character. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Yeah? Sheepy: Il: Your friend. The brunette. Arsé-kun: Wilbur: My half-brother? I can see it. He would deny it, though. Sheepy: Il: They don't like it when they're given too many loving responses, but if they're never shown love, a bad ending is almost guaranteed. Arsé-kun: Merlin: I see! So his current partner really is a good matchup. Sheepy: Il: Partner? He's already dating? Wonderful! Arsé-kun: Merlin: I didn't mean it like that..! Arsé-kun: Raph: I approve nonetheless. Sheepy: Il: Is there another meaning? Arsé-kun: Merlin: They've been working together. They make a great duo. But I'm pretty sure at least one of them wants to.. Sheepy: Il: Like detective partners. Partners in crime. Arsé-kun: Raph: I'm gonna let you guys in on a faculty secret-- A few of us ship it. Sheepy: Il: Oh! Sheepy: Il: Wonderful! I'd like to see this! Sheepy: Grif: Bedi. You were right. I ate a soap and now my stomach hurts. Sheepy: Il: This man. Arsé-kun: Kay: I'm going to beat this idiot with a shower head. What's in this thread, fuckers? We talkin' shit? Sheepy: Il: Ah, we were just talking about your relationship with him. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Oh, we talked magic, spooky month, dating sims, and also that! Sheepy: Il: Your relationship with him. Merlin said that you're partners with him. Arsé-kun: Kay: Partners in getting dragged out on adventures. Which he's trying to do! I can't enter irradiated areas, Griflet! Sheepy: Grif: I'll be lonely. Arsé-kun: Raph: ... Yeah, I can see it working out. :3c Arsé-kun: Kay: wait Sheepy: Grif: Yes. I was just the other day. Sheepy: Il: I understand your roadblock, Kay. Arsé-kun: Kay: Wait a fuck! We're not dating! Sheepy: Il: You aren't? Arsé-kun: Kay: We only met a couple of days ago! That'd be rushed as hell, and he's a moron! Sheepy: Il: I see. You'd rather someone with brains. Arsé-kun: Kay: I'd rather not talk about this!! Sheepy: Grif: It's 4. Arsé-kun: Kay: Eh? We missed 3?? Sheepy: Grif: Yes. Sheepy: Grif: Because, uh... Sheepy: Grif: Last night. Sheepy: Grif:...Speaking of last night. Sheepy: Grif: Wil? Were you hurt? Arsé-kun: Wilbur: Not at all, thankfully. I kept to the backline. Duncan was not allowed out, either. Sheepy: Grif: Good. Good! Arsé-kun: Duncan: I wanted to see Glaki! He's so big and squishy! Sheepy: Grif: So did Grandpa. Sheepy: Grif: That's why I got nuked. Arsé-kun: Kay: Fuck your grandpa with a nuclear warhead! Or would he like that?? Sheepy: Grif:? Sheepy: Grif: Nuclear warhead... Sheepy: Grif: It's a type of pig. Sheepy: Grif: It has... Sheepy: Grif: Well, it's a pig. Arsé-kun: Wilbur: That's a warthog, Griflet. Sheepy: Grif: They're long. Sheepy: Grif: Warthog... I want to fight one one day. Arsé-kun: Wilbur: why are you this way Sheepy: Grif: Have you never wanted to challenge yourself? Arsé-kun: Wilbur: Why do that when I can just throw you into the dirt? Sheepy: Grif:?! Arsé-kun: Wilbur: Shall I plant your face into the ground a second time this week? Sheepy: Grif: I drowned yesterday, give me a break! Arsé-kun: Wilbur: you What Sheepy: Grif: It's a long story. Arsé-kun: Kay: Your stupid, dumb bitch grandfather nuked a lake. Sheepy: Grif: I threw Dad at something and he rolled into Glaaki's clutches. Grandpa proceeded to nuke me. Arsé-kun: Wilbur: Getting nuked is a good reason for Father to leave my messages unread. Sheepy: Grif: Dad has been silent since then Sheepy: Grif: Unfortunate, considering Dad's currently visiting the campus. Arsé-kun: Wilbur: Ironic. I should probably take Duncan to see him, but I'll wait until dark. Sheepy: Grif: He's busy blocking traffic. Arsé-kun: Raph: He's moved since then. The dean came out and asked him to move. Sheepy: Grif: I see. Good. Sheepy: Grif: I was dreading trying to convince him to move. Arsé-kun: *Merlin has started trying out the magic he was taught prior.* Arsé-kun: Kay: ... Anyway, Grif, no. I'm not going with you to some terrible shit place with who knows what, and not at this hour again! Sheepy: Grif: Unfortunate. Sheepy: Grif: I'll be lonely. Arsé-kun: Kay: Tragic. I can't be up your ass all the time and I'm not getting radiation poisoning. Sheepy: Grif: Hmm...hmmm... Sheepy: Grif: Fine, I can go alone. Arsé-kun: Raph: Hold it, why are you going to the radiation zone? Sheepy: Grif: Because. Sheepy: Grif: Randy told me to. Sheepy: Misyr: What a charming request to give to one of your students. Arsé-kun: Raph: Well, I can't argue with that. Just make sure to stock up on anti-poison. Sheepy: Grif: Radiation causes poison? Arsé-kun: Raph: It's not really radiation, but it's very toxic. We just call it that to keep people away from it. Sheepy: Grif:.... Sheepy: Grif: No elephants... Sheepy: Grif: This takes a lot of the ele-fun out of it. Sheepy: Grif:... Ha. Ha. Ha. Arsé-kun: *Raph is the only one to appreciate the pun.* Sheepy: Misyr: Nevermind. The Dean chose his sacrifice well. Sheepy: Misyr: Ahahaha, that's a joke! Arsé-kun: Raph: You need a reminder on the ele-fundamentals of a joke. Sheepy: Il: Error. Humor not found. Arsé-kun: Raph: I agree, Il. I entirely agree. Sheepy: Misyr: Ouch...! Arsé-kun: *Kay is staring* Sheepy: Il: Yes? Arsé-kun: Kay: What the fuck is this, pun hour? Sheepy: Il: I'm not familiar with the concept of pun hour. Arsé-kun: Raph: It is not pun hour. We're fooling around. Sheepy: Misyr: That's what demon lords are best at! Arsé-kun: *Raph raises an eyebrow* Sheepy: Misyr: Eh? Arsé-kun: Raph: ... I can't respond just yet. Arsé-kun: *Merlin has levitated and then dropped a phonebook. On himself. ouch. At least Raph doesn't seem concerned by this event* Sheepy: Misyr: Oh, because he's here. Arsé-kun: Raph: Well, no, but that certainly happened. Sheepy: *Bedi is. He's worrying about Merlin as usual!* Arsé-kun: Merlin: Lesson learned, start lighter. Oof. Sheepy: Misyr: That's how most of my early attempts went. Arsé-kun: *Kay has A-B-C'n his way out of this scene, and out the door. bye* Arsé-kun: Merlin: Good to know.. Sheepy: Misyr: At least it isn't hot coffee! Arsé-kun: Merlin: True! Is that what you did? Sheepy: Misyr: Cups. Sugar. Milk. Water. Stuff like that. It was a huge mess. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Ooooh. I can relate to that! Sheepy: Misyr: Sometimes I'd focus too hard and give myself a headache. Sometimes I wouldn't focus enough and send a cup flying into a wall or falling onto the ground. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Yeah... Yeah! Sheepy: Misyr: Seriously, who came up with these names? Arsé-kun: Merlin: Ye-- Huh Sheepy: Misyr: What's up? Arsé-kun: Merlin: What did names have to do with being a relatable mess? Sheepy: Misyr: Spell names. Arsé-kun: Merlin: OH! Yeah, right? Sheepy: Misyr: I can't pronounce them at all. Sheepy: Misyr: I just use music instead. Arsé-kun: Merlin: I try not to say them at all! It's so hard! Sheepy: Misyr: Eh? Sheepy: Misyr: Really? Nothing at all? Arsé-kun: Merlin: Uh... Sometimes? I bite my tongue on them a lot, so I try to just skip that part.. Sheepy: Misyr: Sheesh, talk about talented. All the same, no wonder you're struggling. That's a really important part. It's really hard to go without it. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Eh????? Sheepy: Misyr: I mean, I can make coffee without it, but that's because I practiced it so much. Sheepy: Misyr: If only one of the others found out sooner that you didn't have anyone teaching you. Really, where did it all go downhill? Sheepy: Misyr: 10 would've been great for you, but he's basically always either out with 9 or in his library learning useless stuff. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Maybe Malleus should have bothered. Maybe my parents should have! Sheepy: Misyr: Sheesh, this family’s a mess. Sheepy: Misyr: I’ll help out all I can, but demon lords don’t really fall on the same level as wizards do. I mean, there’s some stuff I just can’t teach you. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Yeah? Like what? Sheepy: Misyr: Well, you know. All I'm capable of is destruction. I can't heal anyone, and I can't really protect anyone. Sheepy: Misyr: Not anymore, anyway. I wasn't really good at those sorts of things to begin with. Having a mentor who aims to blow up everything doesn't really help. Sheepy: Misyr: Plus, there's things only demon lords can do. Sheepy: Misyr: Well, hopefully I can be of some use. Arsé-kun: Merlin: You've already taught me better than grandpa ever did, so I sure hope so!! Sheepy: Misyr: Great! Arsé-kun: Merlin: But okay!! I'll go try to teach my own student this too! The same way you taught me! Sheepy: Misyr: You already have your own? Arsé-kun: Merlin: Primo dumped his on me, but I might as well try! Sheepy: Misyr: Youch. Arsé-kun: *Merlin heads out eventually, dragging Bedi with him. He doesn't need to drag.* Sheepy: Misyr: Ahahaha... what have I gotten myself into? Arsé-kun: Raph: It's certainly something, that much is true. It could be worse. Sheepy: Misyr: True. Arsé-kun: Raph: .. Right, I've been meaning to ask. Were you serious about the whole "Demon lords are the best at fooling around" thing? Sheepy: Misyr: Yeah, why? Arsé-kun: Raph: Well... *he looks at Il briefly, as if deciding if this is child-friendly or not* Sheepy: Il:....? Arsé-kun: Raph: You see, I was wondering just how well that stands against me, known up above for all my goofing off and fooling around. So I thought hey, wouldn't it be fun if I fooled around with you? *slight eyebrow raise* Sheepy: Misyr: *he was mid drink, unfortunately. He chokes on his coffee. Cough, cough, cough-* E-EH?? Arsé-kun: Raph: What? *he looks innocently at Misyr* You don't want to put buckets on top of doors? Sheepy: Misyr: The way you worded that definitely didn't imply playing pranks...! Arsé-kun: Raph: Hmmm. Well, it's on the table! As for how you took it, that'd take at least a date first! Sheepy: Misyr: Eh? Just one? I'd rather more than that... Arsé-kun: Raph: Oh? More than one? Ambitious, aren't you, Demon Lord? Sheepy: Misyr: Ahahaha, that's what I'm known for... No, wait, it really isn't... Arsé-kun: Raph: But I haven't heard a no. Sheepy: Misyr: As long as it isn't at night! I'm very busy during the night. I can't leave. Sheepy: Misyr: But a daytime date! Arsé-kun: Raph: I will agree to that! Sheepy: Misyr: Just so you know, I can't really invite you over. Really, it'd stink if I invited you over for a date and some hero came along and stabbed me! Ahahaha, imagine how awkward that'd be! Arsé-kun: Raph: Now, what kind of self-respecting hero would do that? In the middle of a date? Sheepy: Misyr: Ehhh, you'd be surprised Sheepy: Misyr: I've had times where I'm finally taking a break to eat something and some hero comes in and stabs me in the chest. Real pain in the neck. Arsé-kun: Raph: That sounds more like a chest pain. Sheepy: Misyr: Well, yes. Sheepy: Il: You're too nice to actually kill heroes. Sheepy: Misyr: E-eh? W-well of course I do. Sheepy: Misyr: That's what demon lords do. Arsé-kun: Raph: Mmm, okay. You'd know best. *he seems doubtful briefly* But shall we pick up tomorrow? It is beginning to get late, and students have noticed my attempts. Sheepy: Misyr: Right, I can't be late, either. Sheepy: Misyr: We can continue tomorrow. Arsé-kun: *scene ends as both men head out for different reasons and to different places. back to Merlin!* Sheepy: *Are you ready to teach your student, Merlin?!* Arsé-kun: *Yes!* Sheepy: *That's too bad. She's sleeping!* Arsé-kun: *Merlin does not look disappointed. Instead, he whips around to face Bedi.* Sheepy: Bedi: Yes? Arsé-kun: Merlin: You wanna learn to levitate stuff, babe? Sheepy: Bedi: You'd teach me this? Arsé-kun: Merlin: Sure! You're a student too! Sheepy: Bedi: I can't say you should expect good results, but hopefully the results won't be bad... Arsé-kun: Merlin: Well, I learned something important. The verbal part IS necessary! So that should help! Sheepy: Bedi:?! Sheepy: Bedi: No wonder I was struggling so much. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Yeah, right?! We should both improve with this! Sheepy: Bedi: Right! Sheepy: Bedi: Let's work hard to improve! Arsé-kun: Merlin: Hell yeah! Sheepy: *Aru must be exhausted because despite their conversation, she isn't stirring at all.* Arsé-kun: *like brother, like sister.* Arsé-kun: *mario 64 painting ripple effect as the camera zooms into aru. fade out. level chime from same game. thankfully no mario LETSA GO* Sheepy: *It's time for Dream Sequence!* Arsé-kun: *Aru is presented with a blank space. Sure, there's grass and other nature, but it's all white. This is probably symbolic somehow. Sure.* Sheepy: *Aru looks around, squinting. Why is everything so white? It's kind of painful to look at...! Despite her distress, she decides her only option is to start walking forward.* Arsé-kun: *That's probably for the best. Behind her, behind various vegetation, is a big white wall. Forward is the only way to go.* Sheepy: *Aru continues pressing forward, wondering if she's been blocked into this space. What is that wall there for? Why?* Sheepy: Aru: H-hellooooo...? Is anyone there...? Arsé-kun: *...... No reply. The wind blows towards her, the earth sparks menacingly, but there is no verbal response.* Sheepy: Aru: Ah.... Sheepy: Aru: It's scary. Sheepy: Aru: But there isn't any way to go but forward...! *She keeps going, somewhat shakily now.* Arsé-kun: *Despite the raging sparks, Aru is not affected. It's as if the earth itself was just trying to scare her away* Sheepy: Aru: Um.... umm, thank you for not hurting me, Mr. Earth! Sheepy: Aru: I don't know why I'm here, but I feel like it's really important, so... If you could help tell me where to go...! Arsé-kun: *The wind briefly stops blowing, before lightly blowing from behind instead. Keep going forward!* Sheepy: *Aru follows its command and keeps heading forward!* Arsé-kun: *eventually, after who knows how long, she spots a single castle tower. It, like everything else, is stark white, but it is important. She knows this because of a red dragon circling high above it.* Sheepy: *Aru rushes towards the castle, hoping all the meanwhile that the dragon doesn't spot her.* Arsé-kun: *The dragon only continues it's circling.* Sheepy: *Aru enters the castle.* Arsé-kun: *There are three options ahead: A spiral staircase leading up, an open trapdoor with a ladder leading down, or a closed set of double doors.* Arsé-kun: *More blank space- White castle walls, a white carpet, white ceiling, white table. The only color here is something a distance away, in the middle of the room, under the table.* Sheepy: Aru: It stands out from everything else, so... it must be important...! *She begins the trek of walking to the table.* Arsé-kun: *they were!* Sheepy: *Aru squints as she rushes for the thing, hoping to see it better.* Arsé-kun: *Before she can reach it, a yellow knight warps into view and smashes the table wth one fierce blow! The sword is then pointed at Aru!* Sheepy: Aru:...! Sheepy: Aru: A...aah...! *She stumbles back* Sheepy: Aru: *She suddenly remembers her sword. She has that!* N...no, I won't let you hurt me! Arsé-kun: *The yellow knight takes a battle stance.* Sheepy: Aru: *She follows the knight's example, but trembling much more than him.* Arsé-kun: *The yellow knight lunges, swinging their sword directly at her!* Sheepy: *Aru finds herself frozen in her tracks and can only watch as the knight lunges at her...!* Arsé-kun: *A white and blue flash, and [KLANG]! The sword just barely scratches her face, having hit something else!* Sheepy: Aru:...?! Arsé-kun: *A new knight has appeared! This one is white, with a blue sash. They're holding off the yellow knight with a great big shield.* Sheepy: Aru:...! Sheepy: *Aru tries to utilize this window of opportunity and strike the yellow knight with her sword* Arsé-kun: *Direct hit! The yellow knight stumbles back-- Into several more of the white and blue knights.* Sheepy: Aru: ! Wh-when did they get here...? Arsé-kun: Primo?: *his voice comes from one of the knights, but he sounds... Younger? And not entirely correct.* We have always been here for our King. We protect him when the Sacred Sword cannot. Arsé-kun: Knight #3: *this one sounds a bit rough* We reside inside this dream as mere echoes, protecting him from whatever may enter here. Arsé-kun: Knight #2: *this one speaks softly* Whether it be an outside intrusion or a manifestation of evil, we defend our King to the extent of our false lives. Arsé-kun: Knight #1: *this one is almost a bit difficult to understand* You are not an intruder. You are a guest in our great hall. Please go forth and wake our King. We shall hold off this traitor. Sheepy: Aru:...! Teacher...? (And that one who's muffled, could that be...?) ... N-no, I can't get distracted. Th-thank you! I'll go to him now! Arsé-kun: *The several knights all surround the yellow one. Aru is free to move forward* Sheepy: *Aru rushes ahead!* Sheepy: *Aru approaches the spot where the table once stood.* Arsé-kun: *The single spot of color still remained. Upon a much closer inspection. it is something- or someone- tightly wrapped in a woolen cape that is larger than them.* Sheepy: Aru:...Hello...? Sheepy: *Aru slowly begins to reach out to them before hesitating.* Arsé-kun: *What's the holdup, Aru?* Sheepy: *Aru debates if it's safe to gently shake them. They might not like it... but she doesn't have too much choice, so she does it.* Sheepy: Aru: Umm... Are you... Arthur? Arsé-kun: ?: .... mm? *They seems to stir somewhat* Sheepy: Aru: Are you okay? Arsé-kun: ?: I.. Am I? *they shift, starting to push themselves up under the cape* I suppose I am alert, yes. Sheepy: Aru: Good, excellent! Sheepy: Aru: I've finally reached you! I hope you didn't find it really annoying that I was tellling you about my day every, well... day! Arsé-kun: ?: That was you? You sounded so far away. My apologies- I may not have been listening all too well. Sheepy: Aru: You heard...? Sheepy: Aru: (He'll think I'm a friendless weirdo if I don't justify it somehow! I mean, who talks to a sword?!) Arsé-kun: ?: Yes, I believe so. It was... Nice, hearing something directed towards me. Thank you. Sheepy: Aru:?! R-really? Um, so do I need to introduce myself...? That's only proper, I guess... Arsé-kun: ?: I see no reason not to. You may go first. *he lifts up some of the cape so that he can see* Sheepy: Aru: My name is Aru. I'm 14 years old and currently being taught by the first Merlin. Ummm... What else.. I'm the youngest of four. You're an ancestor of mine.. Sheepy: Aru:...Well, one quick amendment. I'm actually being taught by the 14th right now because Teacher wanted to go on vacation. Arsé-kun: ?: There's fourteen of him... Sheepy: Aru: Each have one generation between them. The one I'm currently living with isn't very good with magic and, uh, he's kind of... Sheepy: Aru: Unimpressive. Arsé-kun: ?: I believe you spoke of this, yes. However, I did recently hear something called a "Important Somatic Component". I do expect you to know what these words mean. Sheepy: Aru: I know what that means. It means that when casting spells, you need some sort of sound aspect for better results. Arsé-kun: ?: I see. So the fourteenth was missing that. Sheepy: Aru: I didn't think about that until now. Sheepy: Aru: I should let you introduce yourself next. Arsé-kun: ?: I believe you know who I am, but I will indulge you nonetheless. Arsé-kun: *The cape is finally thrown off, revealing the King himself. Blue eyes, blond hair, and the worst case of bedhead seen this century. The last of these is very quickly dealt with before bowing to Aru* Arsé-kun: ?: Sir Arthur, Brenin and King, at your service. Sheepy: Aru: Oh...! My brother looks a little like you! The second oldest one. Sheepy: Aru:...Eh, wait, should I be bowing back? Arsé-kun: Arthur: If bowing is less used now, then not at all. Sheepy: Aru: Beddy does it before dealing with bugs in the house. It's how he respectfully duels with them. A battle of wits, he claims. Sheepy: Aru:...But really, it'd be a true battle of wits not to bring big spiders into the house to begin with. Arsé-kun: Arthur: Bedwyr handles even creatures such as them? How gifted he still is. Sheepy: Aru: Yes... that, and... Oh, you wouldn't know most of these animals...! Sheepy: Aru: Small dragons that hide in the water and drag their unsuspecting prey down to the depths. Mini bears that cling to trees and spend their days drunk. Eh...eh...how do I describe kangaroos... Sheepy: Aru:...Weird dogs that punch people to death? Arsé-kun: Arthur: Small bears... .. Ah, yes, these are all foreign to me. Sheepy: Aru: They're all from Australia. It's a place known for big bugs. Arsé-kun: Arthur: From... Where? Sheepy: Aru: It's a really big island. Sheepy: Aru: He used to live there. Now he lives with Teacher. Sheepy: Aru: I'm sure they'd both like to see you again! ..but they're both on vacation I think. Sheepy: Aru: I'm sure they'll both be very happy to see you again. Sheepy: Aru: They're the only two still around, I think, other than the Lady of the Lake. But my older brother is a lot like Cai. Actually, he's named Kay. Sheepy: Aru:...Well, I can't say that with certainty, but based on what I've been told...! Arsé-kun: Arthur: I expect to be insulted on sight. Sheepy: Aru: He's already insulted the sword many times. Arsé-kun: Arthur: I can understand that. It behaved the same way when I was ruler. Sheepy: Aru: It electrocuted Lance... Arsé-kun: Arthur: That would be typical behavior. The Caliburn is very picky. Sheepy: Aru: I don't think it helped I unthinkingly handed it to him. Arsé-kun: Arthur: If it was handed off, it should not have done this. Sheepy: Aru:.....So, um... Does that mean... It doesn't like him because of who he's named for? Arsé-kun: Arthur: The Caliburn is not supposed to differentiate based on name alone. That may have been me. Sheepy: Aru: Oh. That's not unexpected. Arsé-kun: Arthur: My apologies. I will rein in my impulses. Sheepy: Aru: I don't think he's the type to steal away other people's wives. Maybe. He's just named in an unlucky way. Sheepy: Aru: Umm, you probably should know. Sheepy: Aru: You've woken up, right? So... I guess you'll be more aware of your surroundings now, and that means you'll, well, see your surroundings. Sheepy: Aru: You probably won't recognize basically anything from how much technology has progressed, so...! If you have any questions about anything,I'll try to answer them as best as I can. Arsé-kun: Arthur: I will have questions, so I do appreciate this. Sheepy: Aru: I can even introduce you to how I talk to Teacher from across the world in an instant! Arsé-kun: Arthur: Magic, I presume? Sheepy: Aru: The magic of modern technology. Arsé-kun: Arthur: ... So would that also answer what that strange sound is? Sheepy: Aru: Th-that's... Sheepy: Aru: That's Teacher calling!! Arsé-kun: *RING RING! RING RING! WAKE UP CALL!* Arsé-kun: -Wednesday, October 27th- Sheepy: *It does wake her up! She groans and answers it.* Sheepy: Aru:...Hello? Arsé-kun: Primo: Good morning, student! Has something of importance happened? And don't oversleep! Sheepy: Aru: You... you...! Arsé-kun: *Implied cat face from Primo* Sheepy: Aru: You're such a jerk!! Arsé-kun: Primo: :3c umu? Sheepy: Aru: I finally got into contact with Arthur! YOUR king!! And YOU broke the connection!! Arsé-kun: Primo: Now, now, connections like this don't break that easily! Sheepy: Aru: Uhuh! Okay! You figure it out, 'cuz you ruined it! Bully! Jerk! Arsé-kun: Primo: Why should I? You can come to the answer very quickly. I give it thirty seconds. Arsé-kun: Arthur: *floating next to her, looking around and taking everything in* Where is the Merlin's voice coming from? Sheepy: Aru:...Thirty seconds?! That's nuts! Can you believe that, Arth-EHH?? Arsé-kun: *Arthur stares* Sheepy: Aru: B-but you... You were... And now you're...! Sheepy: Aru:...No, no, I guess it does make sense... Um, Teacher's voice? It's coming from my phone. Sheepy: Aru: It's a piece of technology that you can use to communicate from across the world. Arsé-kun: Arthur: That's fascinating..! We've gone so far since scroll messengers and letters! Sheepy: Aru: Y-yes... You can even just write messages and instantly send them. Arsé-kun: Arthur: !! Sheepy: Aru: A lot of people use it. Arsé-kun: Primo: Time's up! Sheepy: Aru: I was busy!! Arsé-kun: Primo: So did I ruin anything? Sheepy: Aru: Well... No. Sorry. I was wrong. Arsé-kun: Primo: Accepted. I felt something unusual and I needed to make sure it was benign. But enough about that! Arsé-kun: Primo: You get to explain concepts to an ancient ghost, have fun! Sheepy: Aru: You won't help...? Arsé-kun: Primo: How can I do that when I'm not there, hmmm? Sheepy: Aru: W-well... Sheepy: Aru: Gosh, you have an excuse for everything!! Arsé-kun: Arthur: It seems nothing has changed there. Sheepy: Aru: This, on top of dumping me onto a guy who can't even cast spells properly... Arsé-kun: Primo: But for how long? Sheepy: Aru: I don't know. Arsé-kun: Primo: I do, of course, but that's neither here nor there! Now, it IS time to get up for the day! Sheepy: Aru: But nobody else is up... Arsé-kun: Primo: Once again, but for how long? Sheepy: Aru: At this point I'm just feeling homesick and lost. I've taught him more than he's taught me. Sheepy: Aru: So some guidance here would be great!! Arsé-kun: Primo: Hmmmmm.. Oh, fine, but only because the King will nag me otherwise. Sheepy: Aru: Not because I feel lost and confused? Arsé-kun: Primo: That's just a part of life. Arsé-kun: Primo: The Fourteenth be improving very soon, guaranteed. He may be showing you simple spells now, but just you wait. He got a personal lesson from the Sixth, I heard! Only the Seventh got that luxury! Sheepy: Aru: Life doesn't usually have giant dragons who decide to takr up residence in the middle of the road because he wants to eat cars. Arsé-kun: Primo: Yes, do tell Dove that I would suggest he not do that. Sheepy: Aru: So he's like the Magikarp of Merlins... Sheepy: Aru: And Dove eventually moved from his place after much insistence, but not before getting a personal visit from the dean Sheepy: Aru: I guess this happened while I was sleeping. I don't think I've met 6 before. Arsé-kun: Primo: You have not. This happened while he was out yesterday. Now stop making me answer questions. Sheepy: Aru: I wasn't trying... the one time I don't try, you answer them. Arsé-kun: Primo: Don't call attention to it and I might do it more~ Sheepy: Aru: Okay, okay, fine! Sheepy: Aru: Do you have anything you want to say to Arthur before I hang up? Arsé-kun: Primo: ... There is nothing I can say other than one thing- It's good to have you back, Sir. Don't get exorcized now. Arsé-kun: Arthur: I appreciate this, but do not get What now? Sheepy: Aru:....Um, umm... like banishing ghosts or demons. Sheepy: Aru: I suppose you're at risk for that.... Arsé-kun: Arthur: ... ... ... Sheepy: Aru: Um, you are a ghost, right? Arsé-kun: *Realization setting in 3, 2, 1* Arsé-kun: Arthur: Am I?! Sheepy: Aru: Could it be...?! I've met THE King Arthur, in the flesh?! Like, not a ghost, but... fleshy?! Sheepy: Aru:...Nah, unlike Teacher and Beddy, you don't have any reason not to be a ghost. Arsé-kun: Merlin: what the fuck have i walked in on Sheepy: Aru:?! Sheepy: Aru: Merlin?! Arsé-kun: Merlin: Sassy reply. Sheepy: Aru:...How much did you hear? Arsé-kun: Merlin: "Fleshy" and implications that my man's a ghost. Sheepy: Aru: Wrong one. Sheepy: Aru: And he isn't a ghost! Sheepy: Aru: I'm talking about the original. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Y'know what? Just explain after Bedi makes breakfast. He n' Kay might wanna hear this. Sheepy: Aru: Um... I didn't think to tell you because I didn't think it'd be of interest. Sorry. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Are you kidding? I absolutely wanna hear about this. Sheepy: Aru: Well, um, okay. Sheepy: Aru: What's for breakfast? Arsé-kun: Merlin: I have no idea! Sheepy: Aru: I can sort of, kind of show you what he looks like. I've seen his face a few times. He looks nothing like Bedi. Arsé-kun: Merlin: That's a relief. I think I'd die if there were two. Sheepy: Aru: You don't like one? Arsé-kun: Merlin: This reply was rated R for Really not going there this early Sheepy: Aru: Ummm... Well, they both feel similar, yet completely different. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Cute airheads? Sheepy: Aru: I guess they'd have that in common. Sheepy: Aru: Except the original, when you look at his smile, you can really feel he's only just learned how to do it recently. Arsé-kun: Arthur: He's finally learned? Sheepy: Aru: Yeah. He still hides his face some, but I think he probably hid it more before. Sheepy: Aru: At this point, I think it's just habit. Arsé-kun: *Arthur liked that!* Sheepy: Aru: He's sent me selfies before. I can show you them. Sheepy: Aru:...Oh, you wouldn't know what those are. Arsé-kun: Arthur: Correct. Sheepy: Aru: It's an instantaneous portrait that you can send to others with your phone within seconds. Arsé-kun: Arthur: Instant portrait... Sheepy: Aru: Yes. It's very fast! Sheepy: Aru: *she searches for her phone before bringing up a selfy of Bedwyr. He's holding a koala!* Sheepy: *...Unfortunately, his face can't be seen due to the emoji in the way. Oh well! She shows it to Arthur anyway.* Arsé-kun: Arthur: There seems to be something blocking him... And what is that he is holding? Sheepy: Aru: It's a koala. They're mini bears that live in trees. Arsé-kun: Arthur: Mini bears... And these numbers? Sheepy: Aru: That's the date it was sent. It was sent this year! Arsé-kun: Arthur: .... ........ Arsé-kun: Arthur: 2020? Sheepy: Aru: Yes. That's the year. Arsé-kun: *Arthur firmly disliked this!* Sheepy: Aru: Teacher and Beddy are the only special cases, I think. The others probably aren't around still. Arsé-kun: *ARTHUR DOWNRIGHT HATED THIS!* Sheepy: Aru: Oh, right, the Lady of the Lake is, but I was referring to the round table by that comment. Arsé-kun: *Your ghost is having an existential crisis. Please try again later* Sheepy: Aru:...Arthur? Arsé-kun: Arthur: ...! Arsé-kun: Arthur: Right, yes, of course that makes sense. Man isn't immortal. Sheepy: Aru: Are you okay? Arsé-kun: Arthur: You've given me much to think about. Sheepy: Aru: Well, um, if you need anyone to talk to, I'm here...! Sheepy: Aru: Well, um, Dove's around, too. I don't know if that helps. He's actually right near by. Sheepy: Aru: His kid lives here, too. Arsé-kun: Arthur: He has children... Sheepy: Aru: I've heard he has many... Arsé-kun: Arthur: That is a scary thought. Sheepy: Grif: He has so many. Arsé-kun: Kay: Who else is here?! Grif, stop dragging me around for ten goddamn seconds!! Sheepy: Grif: No, there's a lot to do today. Arsé-kun: Kay: Well, fuck me I guess!! Sheepy: Aru: Good timing. He's one of them. Arsé-kun: Arthur: .... I see the resemblance to Cai. Heavily, might I add. Arsé-kun: Arthur: Dove had human children..? Sheepy: Aru: Especially in the personality, right? Also, umm... Sheepy: Grif: Despite my appearance, I am exactly 0% human. Arsé-kun: Arthur: I see. *he says, not understanding at all* Sheepy: Grif: Dragons can take on the form of a human. From there, they can have humanoid children. Sheepy: Grif: I bear a strong resemblance to this form. Arsé-kun: Arthur: Dove as a man is something I have considered, but never knew was realistic. Sheepy: Grif: He's the type of man to chase after love and be burned constantly. Arsé-kun: Arthur: So he takes after some of the knights. Sheepy: Grif: Yes. I think so. Sheepy: Grif: I don't know enough to make an opinion. Arsé-kun: Arthur: That is unfortunate. Arsé-kun: *Kay has just accepted the ghost in his dorm. He doesn't care enough, they're not aggressive. He just wants food and not radioactivity up his ass.* Sheepy: Aru: Kay, what's for breakfast? Merlin said I should explain everything over it. Arsé-kun: Kay: Got no damn idea! Sheepy: Aru: Eh? You're not making it? Arsé-kun: Kay: Do I look like I am?? Sheepy: Aru: Based on what Merlin said, I thought you were. Arsé-kun: Kay: Bedi beat me to it. I'm gonna get lazy at this rate! Sheepy: Aru: Eh? You weren't already? Arsé-kun: Kay: Look, I know I'm trashy, but I'm not that trashy! Arsé-kun: Kay: Do I LOOK like Merlin to you?? Sheepy: Aru: Good point. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Heyyyy! Sheepy: Aru: Oh, sorry. Arsé-kun: Merlin: I'm not lazy, I just don't care for making food myself! Sheepy: Aru: It's okay! I understand if you can't! That doesn't make you lazy. Sheepy: Aru: For example, I can't reach high things. That doesn't make me lazy. It just means I'm short. It's why tall people exist! Sheepy: Aru:.... But, if tall people didn't exist, I wouldn't need them to get high up things for me because everything would be at my level... Arsé-kun: Kay: You're just mad that you need help reaching the top shelf. Sheepy: Aru: You should put things at short people friendly heights! You can crouch to my height. I can't be over 6' by standing on my toes! Arsé-kun: Kay: That's tragic. It's not like I ever expected this many people in my solo dorm. Sheepy: Aru: If it's solo, why are so many people living in it? Arsé-kun: Kay: Grif showed up one day, Bedi n' Merlin lost their dorm and are temporarily permitted. Sheepy: Aru: Anyway, now you have one more! That makes one short and five tall!... eh? Eh?! The ratio is even further not in my favor! Arsé-kun: Kay: Plus your ghost and Grif's dad. Seven tall. Get positively fucked. Sheepy: Aru: I was counting Arthur and you can't say Grif's dad is tall! You've only seen him in a microwave! Sheepy: Aru:...Did I leave someone out? You, Bedi, Grif, Merlin, Arthur... Sheepy: Aru: Elyan's a bird and Fou's a cat so thsy don't count, right? Arsé-kun: Kay: No, Elyan's a water, as Grif says. Sheepy: Aru: Water can be any height depending on its container... Arsé-kun: Kay: You're still screwed. Sheepy: Aru: Wow!! Sheepy: Aru: By the way, Kay. Do you know who our new roommate is? Arsé-kun: Kay: Nope. Should I care? Sheepy: Aru: We're related to him. Arsé-kun: Kay: ... Arsé-kun: Kay: When did my life get this goddamn weird? Sheepy: Aru: He's our great, great, great... etc, grandpa. King Arthur! Arsé-kun: Kay: Great, now there's royalty here too. Arsé-kun: Kay: I think it started the minute Grif showed up. Sheepy: Aru: Oh, true... Sheepy: Aru: They're both weirdness magnets. Arsé-kun: Kay: At this rate, we all are. Sheepy: Aru: Except Bedi. He's somehow normal throughout all of this. Sheepy: Aru: But anyway, if he's confused about technology, help would be appreciated. Arsé-kun: Kay: Okay, that I can do! I've already dealt with Grif, that can't be much worse. Sheepy: Aru: Is Grif truly that behind on technology? Arsé-kun: Kay: Sometimes. Sheepy: Aru: Had he seen a flush toilet before? Sheepy: Aru: Because if so, he's less behind than Arthur. Arsé-kun: Kay: Yeah, but he probably doesn't butcher interpretations like Grif. Sheepy: Aru: True... Sheepy: Grif: Did you know that the toilet was invented by John Toilet? Arsé-kun: Kay: .... Ha. Ha ha. Because John also means toilet. Sheepy: Grif: Yes... Because the one who made it was named John. Sheepy: Grif: So by deduction, his last name should be Toilet. Arsé-kun: Kay: But it fuckin' ain't. Sheepy: Aru: Please leave the deductions to Sherlock Holmes. Sheepy: Grif: Awful. Horrible. Humans make no sense. Arsé-kun: Kay: Maybe it is. I wouldn't know that. Ask your dad. Sheepy: Grif: Paimon, who invented the toilet? Sheepy: Aru: His dad is Siri with a personality... Arsé-kun: Yog: ... hm? *he's just been woken up* That depends. The modern flush toilet, or toilets in general? Sheepy: Grif: Toilet. Arsé-kun: Yog: .... Unsure if this is better or worse than being repeatedly asked about Blue's Clues lore. Sheepy: Grif: I don't know what that is. Arsé-kun: Yog: Don't worry about it. The flush toilet was invented in 1596 by a man named Sir John Harington, but toilets of varying kinds date back to 4000 BCE in Mesopotamia. Sheepy: Grif: By the way, Dad. Dad is here. Sheepy: Grif: He was blocking traffic yesterday. I don't think he is now. Arsé-kun: Yog: Your father is here?? Sheepy: Grif: Yes. Arsé-kun: Yog: Well, now I do need to try and make an effort. Sheepy: Grif: He tried to eat a car before realizing people were in it. Sheepy: Grif: However... Me fighting cars is good, actually. It prepares humans for real threats. Arsé-kun: Yog: ... *he just sighs* Sheepy: Grif: By the way. There's a ghost here. Arsé-kun: Kay: No shit!! Sheepy: Grif: You knew? Arsé-kun: Kay: Most people aren't transparent and levitating! Sheepy: Grif: We need to make sure Elyan knows that. Sheepy: Grif: Oh. I suppose he did bring up knights. I guess he'd have to be a ghost or really old. Arsé-kun: Kay: Aru's gonna explain over breakfast. So move it. Sheepy: Grif: What am I supposed to do? Arsé-kun: Kay: Mooooove! Sheepy: *Grif moves* Arsé-kun: *Kay drags him into the kitchen* Sheepy: Grif: Breakfast... Sheepy: *Bedi finished making breakfast!* Arsé-kun: Kay: You're stealin' my job. Good work anyway. Sheepy: Bedi: I was hoping I could make your life a little easier by pitching in. Arsé-kun: Kay: It helps, but I'm gonna get lazy. Sheepy: Bedi: You can cook tomorrow then. Arsé-kun: Kay: Hell yeah. Sheepy: *Aru joins the group!* Arsé-kun: Kay: And you! Get explaining! Sheepy: Aru: Where to start... ummm... Sheepy: Aru: So I had a really weird dream last night, and I shouldn't really tell all the details because I think it's personal to Arthur, so I'll just say that it's what caused him to wake up. Arsé-kun: Merlin: That's sorta interesting. I wonder if the wards on Caliburn changed now? Sheepy: Aru: I don't know. Arsé-kun: Merlin: I'll take a peek later. I got a lesson lined up that's so easy, anyone can probably do it! Sheepy: Aru: Really? Arsé-kun: Merlin: Probably! Sheepy: Aru: Right, I was supposed to explain something else, too. Sheepy: Aru: Okay, so Beddy, not to be confused with Bedi... Sheepy: Grif: Too late. Arsé-kun: Kay: Least he's honest. Sheepy: Aru: Bedwyr, not to be confused with Bedivere!! Sheepy: Aru: OG, not to be confused with this one. Sheepy: Aru: He survived medieval doctors. Impressive! Arsé-kun: Merlin: He survived having ghosts in his blood and doing cocaine about it, too. Sheepy: Aru: Do they really do that? Arsé-kun: Merlin: Yeah! Old meds had cocaine and stuff in it. Sheepy: Aru:...I wonder if that'd affect cambions? Sheepy: Aru:..... Nah, he seems in good health, so I guess not. Sheepy: Aru: Oh, right. Did I mention that? Sheepy: Aru: You know what that is, right? Sheepy: Bedi:...There's so many things "that" could refer to... Arsé-kun: Kay: No, you fuckin' didn't. The hell's a cambion? Sheepy: Aru: The child born from an incubus and a human. I guess a succubus and a human, too...? I wouldn't know for sure. But like Merlin. Sheepy: Aru: Except he's very, very, very removed from the original incubus. Sheepy: Aru: Merlin, I mean. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Yeah, by like. 28 generations unless another one got involved somewhere. Sheepy: Aru: Anyway, the original Beddy is a cambion. Except, he chose to hide the by hiding any features of himself. Not intentionally. That was just a side effect to hiding his face because he thought he was ugly. Sheepy: Aru: Really, other than the politeness and servant feel, Beddy and Bedi aren't that similar! Sheepy: Bedi: Servant...feel? Arsé-kun: Merlin: So no competition? Thank goodness. Sheepy: Aru: Well, they look completely different. Sheepy: Aru: Bedi speaks clearly while Beddy mumbles a lot so it's hard to understand him. Sheepy: Bedi: I... feel like a servant...? Arsé-kun: Merlin: Hell no you don't! Sheepy: Bedi: Very contradictory responses... Arsé-kun: Merlin: Being a good person doesn't make you Lucan! Sheepy: Aru: Most of his pictures are covered, but I can show you what he looks like. Arsé-kun: Primo: No you're not Sheepy: Aru: Huh? You're still here? Arsé-kun: Primo: What do you mean? You never hung up. That was your responisbility. Sheepy: Aru: But his armor's very cool! Why can't I show them? Arsé-kun: Primo: Armor you may do! Arsé-kun: Primo: Now will you remember to hang up, or will I be able to livestream your podcast for the morning? Sheepy: Aru: I don't have pictures of his face-- ehh?? Sheepy: Aru: I'm not 3!! Arsé-kun: Primo: So I won't be able to listen to you banging things into the walls and ceilings? That's almost tragic. Arsé-kun: Kay: You're not 3? Wow, you must be four years old then. Sheepy: Aru: Eh?! I'm not so bad at magic!-- Nooo!! Sheepy: Aru: The third one! He's a huge blogging nerd! Arsé-kun: Merlin: What if I knew this shit about my own family before you? Wouldn't that be wild! Sheepy: Aru: You know he's on twitter, right? Arsé-kun: Merlin: You told me but never showed! Sheepy: Aru: You could just follow him on twitter. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Gimme his @ and I'll consider it! Sheepy: Aru: His @ is... Sheepy: Aru: Studmuffin3. Sheepy: Aru:....It's true!! Arsé-kun: Kay: Oh yeah. Sounds stupid enough to be related to Merlin. Sheepy: Aru: I know, right?! Arsé-kun: Merlin: *not as amused by this, immediately pulling out his phone and checking it in a panic* Arsé-kun: Merlin: That 2mil follower account that only follows like 20 people?! Sheepy: Aru: Yeah. Sheepy: Aru: You didn't know that's him? Sheepy: Aru: He follows a few Merlins. Arsé-kun: Merlin: No! And he.. *he checks again* .... He followed me. Oh no. Ohhh no. Sheepy: Aru: Well, you're one more, then! Sheepy: Aru: There's a few others that have twitter accounts too. Arsé-kun: Merlin: I guess I just check his following..? Sheepy: Aru: Yeah, that works! Sheepy: Aru: Some of the people he follow aren't Merlins. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Yeah, 'cause he has 20 and there's only 14 of us. Arsé-kun: *Arthur has completely given up understanding this conversation in the background. Quit.* Sheepy: Aru: His wife and kid are on the list. So is Beddy. Sheepy: Aru: I don't have a twitter so I don't really know who else. Sheepy: Aru: I was listening to him a little. Sheepy: Aru: They sometimes have which number they are at the end of their username. Arsé-kun: Merlin: I'm glad I followed the trend on accident, then! Sheepy: Aru: There's some that are more stiff than others. Like 10. He might have a conversation with you if you try, but he'll mostly be trying to get information out of you. Sheepy: Aru: It's not that he dislikes you. He's actually extremely fascinated by you and wants to know more. Sheepy: Aru:...That's my understanding anyway. Arsé-kun: Merlin: ... Wait a minute, 6 told me he was into taking blood samples. Sheepy: Aru: Yup. Sheepy: Aru: He wants to learn everything about everything. Blood samples would be part of that in his eyes. Sheepy: Aru: Oh, right. Sheepy: Aru: I was told, just to be safe, don't interact with any of the really weird things that 6 posts. Sheepy: Aru: I don't know what that means. Arsé-kun: Merlin: So ask him later. Got it. Sheepy: Aru: That works. Sheepy: Aru: I think they'd all be pretty open to helping you if you just shoot them a DM. Some more than others. Arsé-kun: Merlin: ... Or I can DM 13 with a gallon of salt. Sheepy: Aru: Oh, you don't like him. Arsé-kun: Merlin: He taught be the bare minimum, of course I'm mad! Sheepy: Aru: Anyway, now that you've learned the source of your problems, you should learn much faster, right? Arsé-kun: Merlin: Yep! Why, are you concerned? Sheepy: Aru: I have to learn from you. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Fair, I guess... But why? I'm barely ahead of you. Sheepy: Aru: Teacher thinks you could be a useful teacher to me, so I doubt that you're just barely ahead of me. Arsé-kun: Merlin: We'll see! Sheepy: Aru: Now that I think of it.. I have someone to learn better swordplay from now, too. Arsé-kun: Kay: How the hell is that gonna work? Sheepy: Aru: Huh? heepy: Aru: Well... I guess it's up to Arthur what he wants to do. ...Should I be calling you Arthur? Is that too casual? Arsé-kun: Arthur: Is that appropriate in these times? Only using the first name? Sheepy: Aru: For someone on your level, I guess. Sheepy: Aru: But someone above your level... Arsé-kun: Arthur: ... I will permit you to do so and only you. Sheepy: Aru: ?! Sheepy: Aru: A-are you sure? Arsé-kun: Arthur: It is your sword now, after all. Sheepy: Aru: Okay! Arsé-kun: *Kay rolls his eyes and fully intends to ignore this rule* Sheepy: Aru: For good friends, you can give then nicknames. For example, Bedwyr being Beddy. Sheepy: Aru: And people who are higher up than you in a situation, you can call them by their title and last name unless they specify otherwise. For example, umm... Sheepy: Bedi: Dr. Watson? Sheepy: Bedi: My name is a mouthful, by the way, so feel free to shorten it. It doesn't bother me. Everyone does it. Arsé-kun: Merlin: If you need to call me something else, that's also okay! It'd make sense considering the old man is Merlin, too. Sheepy: Grif: Griflet. Arsé-kun: Kay: Thank you for your fantastic input! Sheepy: Grif: Yes. It's what to call me. Sheepy: Grif: You can call me Grif once we reach bond level one. Arsé-kun: Kay: It's almost like that's your fucking name or something!! *he's being very pointedly sarcastic* Sheepy: Grif: Yes. Worry not, Kay. You are the only one allowed to call me Moron. Sheepy: Aru: As you can see, he's a lot like your brother. Even to the name. Arsé-kun: Arthur: I see this. Sheepy: Aru: There's two animals, too. A cat named Fou and a... a... Sheepy: Grif: He's a water. Elyan. Sheepy: Aru: By the way, isn't it weird that Fou says his name? Sheepy: Bedi:...? ... Arsé-kun: Fou: Mrrrp? Sheepy: Aru: Oh, there he is! That's Fou! Arsé-kun: *Fou jumps on the table* Sheepy: *Bedi pets Fou. Good morning!* Arsé-kun: *Fou looks at him and then steps onto Bedi's plate to be a little criminal* Sheepy: Bedi: F-fou...! Arsé-kun: Kay: I keep tellin' you to keep the bitch off the table! Arsé-kun: Kay: "But he's so cute!" fuck off! Arsé-kun: *Kay reaches over, picks up Fou by the scruff, and drops him on the floor. Fou bites his hand. Kay ignores it* Sheepy: Bedi: He doesn't know any better. He just wants to be part of the action. Arsé-kun: Kay: Don't let him be on the table! Issue solved! Sheepy: Bedi: It's okay, Fou. You can sit in my lap at least. Sheepy: *Elyan is watching the scene play out...* Arsé-kun: *Fou is staring up at the table. Food.* Sheepy: Elyan: *he slowly begins to spread his wings out. elyan, do not try to help fou* Arsé-kun: *Merlin picks up his plate and puts it in his lap to avoid inevitable danger.* Sheepy: *With a few flaps of his wings, Elyan jumps onto the table.* Sheepy: Elyan: *squeaky Merlin voice* Hewwwoooo!! What's this!!! Sheepy: Bedi: N-nooo!! Elyan, down!! Elyan!!! Arsé-kun: Kay: Elyan, you watery tart, get the fuck off the table! Sheepy: Grif: He's feeling included now. Sheepy: Elyan: *honk* Sheepy: Grif: However... he's in the way. Sheepy: *Grif lifts up Elyan and shifts him onto the floor.* Sheepy: Aru: Oh, right. This reminds me. Sheepy: Aru: We can't go very far outside. Sheepy: Aru: There's monsters off of the path. Sheepy: Aru: Elyan is a nice one of them. Arsé-kun: Arthur: ...? Sheepy: Aru: They appeared one day. As long as we stay on the path, they can't hurt us. But there's nice ones, too. Sheepy: Aru: I'm sure some of them are as confused and scared as we are and just want to go home. Arsé-kun: Kay: Optimistic, but damn do we not have any of those around here. Sheepy: Aru: If you stay close enough to the path, they won't bother you. ...I think. Sheepy: Grif: Things still happen. Arsé-kun: Kay: Fuck they sure do Sheepy: Aru: We can't really make them leave, either. Sheepy: Aru:So you'll only really see the campus for now. Sorry. Sheepy: Aru: I sometimes go off the path but so far it's been okay. Arsé-kun: Kay: You gotta stop doing that. Sheepy: Aru: I know. Sheepy: Aru: But I've been safe so far. Arsé-kun: *Kay just looks at Bedi* Sheepy: Aru: I just refuse to go too far. Sheepy: Bedi: Almost everyone in this room has been hurt by going off the path. Sheepy: Bedi: Merlin and you are the only two who haven't. Arsé-kun: Merlin: And how long will that last? Sheepy: Bedi: Yes... it's unavoidable, isn't it. Sheepy: Bedi: Eventually, we'll lose all of it, won't we? And then what? Arsé-kun: Kay: Then we cling to Griflet for dear life. Sheepy: Grif: I see. So many lives in my hands. I have to grow stronger. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Well, this is depressing! Lets stop talking about that before I throw hands and also a chair! Sheepy: Bedi: My apologies. It just occurred to me. Arsé-kun: Merlin: I'll allow it! *he gets up, holds his now-empty plate up and grins* So! If I drop this, you expect it to hit the ground and break, yeah? Arsé-kun: *Kay looks angry already. bad start* Sheepy: Grif: You don't have to drop it. I can break it for you. Arsé-kun: Merlin: No, no, that isn't where this is going. If this hits the ground, it'll surely break. Sheepy: Grif: Tear a telephone book in half and I'll truly be impressed by your breaking capabilities. Arsé-kun: Merlin: That's not... Arsé-kun: Merlin: ... You know what? No. If I manage to not break this, I'll give that a shot. Sheepy: Grif: Don't let gravity do the work for you. Take it into your own hands! Smash it! I believe in you! Arsé-kun: Merlin: The point is to not let it break because Kay would hit me with the entire table! Sheepy: Grif: Amazing! Kay is so strong! Show me your power, Kay!! Arsé-kun: *Merlin sighs, starts spellcasting, butchers it. Butchers it a second time. He gives up and drops it anyway, preparing to try non-somatic. He catches it juuust before it can hit the ground with levitation, and brings it back up to eye level. He looks proud of himself.* Sheepy: Bedi: Wow! Good job! Sheepy: Aru: Oh, you've done it! Arsé-kun: Merlin: Thank you, thank you, hold your applause. This is what we're learning today! Sheepy: Grif: Hmm... hmmm... that's not... Arsé-kun: Merlin: Get me a phonebook and I already said I would! Sheepy: Grif: I see. I understand now. Sheepy: Grif: This is how you'll hit others with a table. Arsé-kun: Kay: God I wish Sheepy: Grif:...It might surprise you, but tables can be chairs. Arsé-kun: Yog: *unhelpfully* Tables are very useful inventions. Sheepy: Grif: They're almost always squares, which is the perfect shape for a chair. Sheepy: Aru: Sometimes they can be round. Sheepy: Grif: Bad tables. Arsé-kun: Kay: Yeah, almost like a Round Table was a historical landmark or something, shut up Moron Sheepy: Grif: They remove valuable table space while still taking up the same amount of room. Arsé-kun: Arthur: I disagree. Corners get in the way when you have a large number of people. Sheepy: Grif: You have to cut corners in order to get around that issue. Sheepy: Grif:..... Sheepy: Grif: Ha. Ha. Ha. Arsé-kun: Yog: Two puns in one. I approve. Arsé-kun: Merlin: ... Sheepy: Bedi: It's very cool, Merlin! Arsé-kun: Merlin: Thanks. I, uh. Is this how our teachers feel? Sheepy: Bedi: Probably. Sheepy: Bedi: I'd like to learn how you did it. Sheepy: Aru:...Oh, right! This! Yes, I'd like to learn, too. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Great! Sheepy: Aru: You were practicing it last night, right? Arthur mentioned that he heard you say something about it. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Yep! Learned it yesterday, practiced last night! Sheepy: Aru: Well, if it can be learnt so quickly, it's a good lesson for a day like today. Arsé-kun: Merlin: It's good in general! Like I said, it's so easy I bet anyone can do it! Sheepy: Grif: Even Elyan? Sheepy: Grif: He's a water. Arsé-kun: Merlin: A magic-wielding peacock sounds terrifying. Sheepy: Grif: He's not a peacock. He's a goose. Arsé-kun: Merlin: See the tail? Peacock. Sheepy: Grif: But his feet are webbed. Arsé-kun: Merlin: That's for water convenience. Sheepy: Grif: Hm... I see... Sheepy: Grif: Can peacock swim? Arsé-kun: Merlin: I don't see why not? Sheepy: Grif: Hmmm... Arsé-kun: Kay: Who cares? Sheepy: Grif: I do. Sheepy: Aru: I wonder if this can be used on Caliburn... I doubt it. Sheepy: Aru: Arthur, do you know? How safe is the Caliburn from potentially being taken? Arsé-kun: Arthur: I do not know. It has not been tried. Sheepy: Aru: I guess with everyone having swords, there'd be no reason to steal a sword. Arsé-kun: Arthur: This is true. Sheepy: *Bedi is focusing very hard on Merlin's lesson. Aru is as well! Grif... isn't.* Arsé-kun: *Kay was trying to pay attention, but realized he has no understanding of the subject matter* Arsé-kun: Merlin: -- But okay, give it a try! I've got my notes here if you wanna crosscheck. Sheepy: Aru: I'll do my best! Sheepy: *Aru attempts to levitate a cup! ...It barely gets anywhere and quickly drops.* Sheepy: Aru:...W-well, it's just the first try...! Arsé-kun: Merlin: It moved! That's still progress! Arsé-kun: *Kay tries? But nothing happens except wasting twenty seconds.* Sheepy: Bedi: *He had his hands ready to clap for Kay. He's left looking dumbfounded.* Arsé-kun: Kay: ... What'd you expect?? I don't know what I'm doing. Sheepy: Bedi: Um... Sheepy: Bedi:.... Sheepy: Grif: Worry not, Kay. Sheepy: Grif: All things considered, I think you did well facing off with the cup. Unfortunately, it'll always be better at staring contests. Arsé-kun: Kay: That makes it sound embarrassing. Sheepy: Bedi:...He really has a way to make it worse. Sheepy: Grif: ? Sheepy: Grif: Could it be... That was not your goal?! Arsé-kun: Kay: Are you blind or deaf? Sheepy: Grif: I was thinking about things and not paying attention to the scene before me. Arsé-kun: Kay: I can see that! Sheepy: Grif: Good. Sheepy: Aru: Well, I'm sure you'll get it next time. Sheepy: Bedi: Yes, I believe in you, Kay! Arsé-kun: Kay: Fine. Fine! I'll fuckin' try again! Arsé-kun: *Kay goes back to focusing on his own cup. He looks peeved* Sheepy: Bedi:...... Sheepy: *Bedi is watching Kay....* Arsé-kun: *Merlin is watching with interest* Arsé-kun: *The cup... It shifts slightly! Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, EXPLODES* Arsé-kun: Kay: JESUS FUCK Sheepy: Bedi: A-aaah?! Sheepy: Aru: I-it exploded!!! Arsé-kun: Kay: What the fuck?? Sheepy: Aru: That's not how it's supposed to work...! Arsé-kun: Merlin: And I thought I was volatile. Arsé-kun: Kay: You know what? Fuck it. I moved it! Good enough. Sheepy: Bedi: *clapping* G-good job!! Sheepy: Aru:...But is it really? Arsé-kun: Kay: For my first try ever? Let me have this one! Sheepy: Aru: Okay, okay, I will! Sheepy: Aru: You can do extra damage when you use it! Arsé-kun: *Kay gives her a flat look* Sheepy: Aru:...Well, it's good for self defense, right? Sheepy: Aru: No! Blowing it up! Sheepy: *Way later!* Sheepy: *Ring ring. Lance gets a call!* Arsé-kun: *Lance stares at his phone like it offended him. Can't the caller see he's busy playing a game? ... He does pick up, though* Sheepy: Holmes: This is the right number, isn't it? Lance? *He sounds tired...* Arsé-kun: Lance: Unfortunately, yes, this is the delinquent hotline. Sheepy: Holmes: It's important I speak to you. Arsé-kun: Lance: What'd I do this time? Sheepy: Holmes: Let's say, for example, someone you trusted greatly offered you a meal. Would you be willing to eat it without seeing every step of its preparation? Arsé-kun: Lance: Yeah, probably. If anything happened, I probably deserved it. Sheepy: Holmes: Based on what happened to your friend Gawain, that isn't a habit you should be partaking in right now. Arsé-kun: Lance: ... ... What'd this dipshit do this time? He already got possessed earlier this week. Sheepy: Holmes: He was poisoned by his brother. Arsé-kun: Lance: Aggy's been saying he wants to do that since he was in diapers. So good for him, I guess. Sheepy: Holmes: I never said this was something intended nor something he was even aware of. I can't tell you too many details over the phone, but I have reasons to doubt that he's responsible for it. Simply, someone poisoned Gawain through Agravain's cooking, and there's no saying if they have you or any other companion of Gawain's in mind as the next target. Arsé-kun: Lance: That implies someone was close to Aggy. Which people aren't. Sheepy: Holmes: Yes, I'm aware. Sheepy: Holmes: However, it still stands that Gawain is currently suffering from being poisoned by food Agravain baked. Sheepy: Holmes: Once again, I can't reveal many details, but I've spoken to Agravain and I can say with about 90% certainty that Agravain did not poison the food. Arsé-kun: Lance: That sounds right to me. So I shouldn't bring food to see Gawain? Sheepy: Holmes: Hah, like Gawain is surrounded by a bubble of bad luck? Arsé-kun: Lance: He isn't? Sheepy: Holmes: Ahahahahaha! Really, whenever anything goes wrong, he's always a part of it somehow! Ahahahaha! What a guy! Arsé-kun: Lance: I'd die if I was like that. But yeah. I'll make sure no one thinks he got lost in the hallway or some shit again. Sheepy: Holmes: You might want to warn them as well. I don't have their numbers. How convenient you know them all! Arsé-kun: Lance: But for how long will you not? Since Kay's getting dragged around, Merlin, and the entirety of Griflet exists. Sheepy: Holmes: Why would I ask for their numbers when I have yours? Arsé-kun: Lance: To annoy them. Sheepy: Holmes: You're right. Sheepy: Holmes: Your brother and his roommate are close to him, too, so I'd recommend letting them know as well. Arsé-kun: Lance: If they don't already know. Sheepy: Holmes: *yawn* It's possible. I haven't spoken to them. Arsé-kun: Lance: I'll deal with it, so shut up. Sheepy: Holmes: I knew I could *yawn* count on you. Good... good luck. Arsé-kun: Lance: What do you mean "Good Luck"? If I get obliterated on the way, I'm blaming you. Sheepy: Holmes: Finding them, of course... Arsé-kun: Lance: Oh, like that's hard. Sheepy: Holmes:....Ahahaha, of course. Arsé-kun: Lance: So yeah, I'll do your dirty work for you, chief. You can go lay down and perish. Sheepy: Holmes: ...Hahaha. Thanks. Sheepy: Holmes: I'll go do that. Arsé-kun: *Lance hangs up on him, and starts texting people* Sheepy: Lucan [chat]: LOL gawain getting poisoned by agravain's food. at least get poisoned by someone who doesn't say they'll poison you Arsé-kun: Lance: [chat] ikr!! Sheepy: Lucan [chat]: imagine getting poisoned by local edgelord "welcome to my torture chamber" agravain. wouldn't be me Arsé-kun: Lance: [chat] Ok but Det doesnt think aggy actually did it Sheepy: Agravain [chat]: It will be. Sheepy: Lucan [chat]: hey now even poisoned it's better than the hospital food Arsé-kun: Lance: [chat] anythings better than hospital food Sheepy: Lucan [chat]: it's so trash that some days I just decide hunger is truly the better option. if they want me to eat it so bad actually makr it edible Sheepy: Agravain [chat]: I could bring you something. Arsé-kun: Lance: [chat] u want me to pick up food when Lot ine- oh ok Sheepy: Lucan [chat]: extra poison please Sheepy: Lucan [chat]: and yes I'd like that Arsé-kun: Lance: [chat] @Lot mcdonald Sheepy: Lucan [chat]: finally I can get poisoned by fast food Arsé-kun: Lot: [chat] I'll consider it. Sheepy: Lucan [chat]: make sure it tastes extra bad so I can feel better avout the hospiral food lol Arsé-kun: Lot: [chat] I'm surprised Kay isn't here, insulting Gawain about potatoes somehow. Is he still alive? Sheepy: Bedi [chat]: His phone is broken. Lucan, don't insult the food others offer to pick up for you Sheepy: Lucan [chat]: stiff Arsé-kun: Merlin: [chat] "That's what Gawain's gonna be if he keeps eating taters!" end quotes, angry redhead Sheepy: Lucan [chat]: hey kay. knock knock Arsé-kun: Merlin: [chat] uwu hoo dere Sheepy: Lucan [chat]: potato Arsé-kun: Merlin: [chat] Potato Hoo Sheepy: Lucan [chat]: potaton't use his name or you'll summon him and his endless potato facts Sheepy: Lucan [chat]: insyead of a "hot stud" he should be a "hot spud" Arsé-kun: Merlin: [chat] hot chip Sheepy: Lucan [chat]: hey you know what chips are usyally made of Sheepy: Lucan [chat]: potato Sheepy: Lucan [chat]: he'd go to a poker game to eat the chips Sheepy: Lucan [chat]: I guess we''re roomies for a bit though Arsé-kun: Lance: [chat] Oh, he's with you? Is he insufferable? Sheepy: Lucan [chat]: maybe he can make me a potatp befotr he goes Sheepy: Lucan [chat]: no he's just feeling really bad Sheepy: Lucan [chat]: my fear is that he hits on my friends though Arsé-kun: Lance: [chat] hit him with a brick Sheepy: Lucan [chat]: that sounds like a lot of physical exertion I'm not up to Arsé-kun: Lot: [chat] But yes, I'll bring you some fast food. Gawain doesn't get any. Sheepy: Lucan [chat]: don't go on your operstion chick hunt of whatever though Arsé-kun: Lot: [chat] why the heck would I?? I'm not into girls Sheepy: Lucan [chat]: then who does the operation chick hunt every yrar Arsé-kun: Lot: [chat] Gawain. I'm there to keep track and recruit. Sheepy: Lucan [chat]: oh yeah then I have to keep a closer eye on him then. my friends are very sweet but they will destroy gawain if he tries to hook up with them Arsé-kun: Lot: [chat] So like ms Guin did. Sheepy: Bedi [chat]: I'm glaf you made a friend, Lucan!! Sheepy: Lucan [chat]: did she??? what a champ. get wrecked gawain. also you say that like I don't have friends outside of you guys Arsé-kun: Merlin: [chat] **Made a friend in the hospital Sheepy: Lucan [chat]: I've made many ffoends, I even have a girlfriend, I'm not lonely... btw it's nof like I'm lonely but I want more visitors, not like I'm lonely though Sheepy: Agravain [chat]: Everything in that sentence smells of lies. Arsé-kun: Merlin: [chat] In one room, we now have Eats Hot Chip AND Lies! Sheepy: Lucan [chat]: maybe it is all lies but you'll never know unless you visit me Arsé-kun: Merlin: [chat] maybe I'll bring Bedi after my class today. Maybe I'll bring Bedi to class. Sheepy: Lucan [chat]: visiting me? In MY universe? it's more likely than I'd think Arsé-kun: Merlin: [chat] Hell, I could probably sneak in a visit right now. Sheepy: Lucan [chat]: you could? really? lemme make you something Arsé-kun: Merlin: [chat] By right now, I MEAN right now Sheepy: Lucan [chat]: oh good because I don't feel up to cooking anyway Arsé-kun: Merlin: [chat] Anyone in ur place I should know about other than Gawain before I show up unannounced? Sheepy: Lucan [chat]: okita isn't in my room but he might threaten you some, but is there anyone else... Sheepy: Lucan [chat]: that video game nerd is holed up in his room playing some new release or something so he won't botyer you Sheepy: Lucan [chat]: just dont show interest or he'll ask you tips forever lol Arsé-kun: Merlin: [chat] Thanks, but you think I'm going through the doors? Sheepy: Lucan [chat]: where else is there to go through Arsé-kun: Merlin: [chat] EVERYTHING Arsé-kun: Merlin: [chat] INCOMING Sheepy: Lucan [chat]:? Arsé-kun: *Lucan gets a 5-second headsup in the form of flower petals suddenly in his room before Merlin himself appears. Teleporting! It's quick and easy and free!* Arsé-kun: Merlin: Ta-daa! Sheepy: Lucan: E-eh?! *Lucan drops his phone in surprise. Thankfully, he just dropped it on his bed.* Arsé-kun: Merlin: :3c Sheepy: *Lucan's usual smug smile returns almost as quickly as it left...* Sheepy: Lucan: You could warn me, you know. Arsé-kun: Merlin: I did. Sheepy: Lucan: I don't think you did.... Arsé-kun: Merlin: I gave you the incoming. You gotta expect it from a wizard. Sheepy: Lucan: I was expecting you to break in through my window. Arsé-kun: Merlin: What, and damage a window? Sheepy: Lucan: That's like you, I think! Arsé-kun: Merlin: You're right, but not here. Sheepy: Lucan: Amazing, you've got standards! Arsé-kun: Merlin: Well, yeah. I'd hope so. Sheepy: Lucan: I didn't have time to make you anything, but you can have my bad hospital food if you're very patient. Sheepy: Lucan: Just don't tell the doctors, okay? It's our secret. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Ew, no. I nabbed this, though. *he tosses Lucan a small bag of cheese-its* Sheepy: Lucan: Hey! This looks positively synthetic! Great, thanks! I'm sure they won't notice if I break my diet some. Arsé-kun: Merlin: They probably will, but it's just vending machine food. Sheepy: Lucan: True. Sheepy: Lucan: It'll be worth the stomachache I get later. Arsé-kun: Merlin: What doesn't, though? Sheepy: Lucan:....True! Sheepy: Lucan: Everything does, doesn't it. Arsé-kun: Merlin: It does seem that way a lot. Arsé-kun: Merlin: And how's our favorite tater tot, hmmm? *he looks to Gawain* Sheepy: Gawain: Ahahaha... your looks are your shield and armor, huh...? But mine's been pierced through... Ouuugh... Arsé-kun: Merlin: This really isn't your week, huh? Sheepy: Lucan: Aw, suffer in silence like the rest of us. Sheepy: Lucan: By the way, when us your class, Merlin? Sheepy: Lucan: Are you late? Arsé-kun: Merlin: I'm probably late! Oh well. Sheepy: *Merlin receives a text. It's an unknown number, entirely composed of 6s! The only word is "Lost?"* Arsé-kun: Merlin: [text: to ?] howd you get my number, old man Sheepy: *There's a pause before Merlin receives a response. It's corrupted and glitchy, almost entirely composed of random numbers and symbols. Under the corrupted text appears to read "I̸̷M ̴҉̀L̢O̶ST ̴̛-̧͜ ̵Ģ̵U̸I͜DE҉̶ ͏M̶̕E͞". ...The text didappears just as quickly as it appeared with a crackling noise, leaving just a message saying, "Are you coming?"* Arsé-kun: *Merlin slammed the screenshot buttons like 8 times before the normal text came up. He looks mystified by that experience* Arsé-kun: Merlin: [text: to ?] Yeah, visiting friend at the hospital. I now have additional questions, devil king Sheepy: ? [Text: to Merlin]: See you soon. Sheepy: *Just for a moment, the "you" appeared to be "me" instead... Is it just an act of one's own imagination? Or is something larger going on?* Arsé-kun: Merlin: ... And that's grampa asking where I am. So yeah, I'm officially late. Sheepy: Lucan: Oof. Arsé-kun: Merlin: F. Sheepy: Lucan: Good luck with that. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Have fun with your cheezits. And Gawain? Don't die. Sheepy: Gawain: Ugh... I'll try not to. Sheepy: Lucan: I'm looking forward to the stomach pain. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Share it responsibly. Arsé-kun: *Merlin teleports... a foot away. He looks embarrassed before managing it on the second try* Sheepy: *Misyr is relaxing in a chair in the coffee shop, drinking a cup of coffee while reading a book. It's none other than one of the Sherlock Holmes books! He looks to be enjoying himself.* Sheepy: Misyr: Well, well! Not many would come late to a meeting with a demon lord! Ahaha! Hey, if you were part of a duo, would you want to be the Holmes or the Watson? Incredibly intelligent but unable to truly fit in with society, or the down to Earth one who constantly stands in the shadow of his friend? Sheepy: Misyr: You know... Honestly, I'd like to be the latter, but sometimes it's best never to see the shadows of those around you. They're exposing their back to you, you know. And sometimes you'll find a knife hiding behind it. Arsé-kun: Merlin: How about neither? Is that a valid option? Arsé-kun: Merlin: But I taught what you taught me! It went well, except for the one explosion! Arsé-kun: Merlin: ... Which wasn't me this time! Sheepy: Misyr: Sometimes you don't really get an option. The world needs a hero to deal with demon lords like me. It's just a matter or if you decide to sacrifice your humanity to save humanity. Sheepy: Misyr: Anyway, great that it went well! Really, explosions aren't so bad! It's a demon king's way ot showing their strength! Arsé-kun: Merlin: It was a total newbie that blew up a cup, so I totally get why. Sheepy: Misyr: Ahahaha! Kind of you to tell everyone about it! Sheepy: Misyr: But you're a total newbie too, aren't you? You should at least have been given the chance to learn the fundamentals before being shoved into a teaching job. Arsé-kun: Merlin: I'm not a total newbie!! I made a huge crystal barrier the other day!!! I'm just self-taught! Sheepy: Misyr: And to only have me to turn to as a teacher... I'm not a wizard. You really should be given a better chance. Arsé-kun: Merlin: You had to be at some point if you're in my family line! Sheepy: Misyr: But wizard... Sheepy: Misyr: Really, what makes us wizards? Before the first, they weren't called wizards. They were just called incubi. So is it the humanity that the line bears? Sheepy: Misyr: If it is, well... A demon king like me really can't be a wizard, huh? Arsé-kun: *Merlin stares* Sheepy: Misyr: Ahahaha. Well, I got a little serious there, huh? My bad. I was just messing with you a bit. I mean... Sheepy: Misyr: Really, if I'm gonna be your mentor, I've got to act all cool and mysterious like I've got some dark backstory, huh? Sheepy: Misyr: Cryptic quotes are a must! By the way, how'd I do? Arsé-kun: Merlin: It's frustrating! It's cool, but annoying. Sheepy: Misyr: Hey, I've got a question. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Ye? Sheepy: Misyr: You know King Midas? Sheepy: Misyr: If you had his touch, instead of gold, what would you turn things to, do you think? Arsé-kun: Merlin: Flowers. That, or shit blowing up. I'd really prefer the first! Sheepy: Misyr: Hey, that's fancy. I like it! Sheepy: Misyr: A demon king like me... I'd just leave ashes behind. I mean, I'm totally the embodiment of destruction as a final boss, so I gotta leave a message of some kind! Arsé-kun: Merlin: You're so edgy! Sheepy: Misyr: Ahaha! Being edgy sounds like a fun kind of final boss. Arsé-kun: Merlin: They usually are. Sheepy: Misyr: I've heard of one from Il... Sheepy: Misyr: Bowser. He's pointy. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Bowser's cool. He's an ass but loves his kids. So Lance says, anyway. Sheepy: Misyr: He's a turtle, apparently. Sheepy: Misyr: I've got no time for video games. Sheepy: Misyr: They're too much of a time sink. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Tragic. Sheepy: Misyr:...Oh, yeah, the lesson. I was having too much fun messing with you and forgot about it entirely. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Yes, the lesson! The reason I'm here! Sheepy: Misyr: Today's...Hmm... Sheepy: Misyr: How good are you with fire? Sheepy: Misyr: Actually, you could set a huge fire with this if you aren't careful... Arsé-kun: Merlin: Wouldn't be new to me. But now that I know better? Should be way easier! Sheepy: Misyr: Ahahaha! That's... not really comforting, but oh well. Sheepy: *Misyr teaches Merlin how to control fire. Nice!* Arsé-kun: *Nice!!* Sheepy: *Holmes enters around the end of a lesson, taking a seat close by. he desires the caffeine* Arsé-kun: *but can he take it before Wilbur spots the competition??* Sheepy: *Probably not. His movements are surprisingly sluggish and delayed.* Arsé-kun: Watson: --And I told you not to stay up all night. So what did you do? Sheepy: Holmes: I was devoting my time to thinking over this case. Arsé-kun: Watson: But then you lose time for doing that now. Sheepy: Holmes: I'll be fine. I did this other nights and shook it off. Arsé-kun: Watson: *he sighs* I'll do it myself if I have to. What do we have so far? Sheepy: Holmes: *he groans and shuffles through his pockets* ...I wrote it down somewhere... Sheepy: Holmes:...... Eh... It's... where is it.... Arsé-kun: *Watson reaches into one of Holmes' pockets and pulls out a paper* Arsé-kun: Watson: This? Sheepy: Holmes: That's it. Arsé-kun: Watson: Read it out. I can't decipher your handwriting. Sheepy: Holmes: It's easy to decipher. You simply look at it and decipher it. You could say it's elementary, my dea... ... I'll just read it aloud. Arsé-kun: *Watson gives him a look so flat it could rival a 2d animation* Sheepy: Holmes:.... Arsé-kun: Watson: ... If you can't read it either, I might have to strangle you. Sheepy: Holmes: Ah, but after we've been together for this long, certainly you can read my writing some. Arsé-kun: Watson: I'm going to start threatening you with bills. Sheepy: Holmes: Really, if I took pay for my services, nobody would hire me... They're just out to use me, it seems... Sheepy: Holmes: Not being paid for my casework means I can't pay bills. How unfortunate for you, Watson. Sheepy: Holmes: It seems... we're at an impasse. Arsé-kun: Watson: Give me the paper and watch this, then. Sheepy: *Holmes passes back the paper* Arsé-kun: *Watson approaches Misyr with the same flat expression.* Sheepy: Misyr: Could it be? You desire my help? Arsé-kun: Watson: Cut straight to it. I'm willing to pay you for deciphering this garbage again. Sheepy: *Misyr had been focusing again on the book he'd been reading before Merlin's lesson* Arsé-kun: *Merlin leans forward to look at the paper and the book. He learns nothing* Sheepy: Misyr: Really, you're much nicer in this book. Sheepy: Misyr: Pay's totally useless to a demon lord like me! I mean, if I want something, I can just take it. Arsé-kun: Watson: I'm going to drag you out with me in a minute. You're about to replace the detective if you don't. Sheepy: Misyr: I'm about to replace the detective either way! Arsé-kun: Watson: What is that supposed to mean? Sheepy: Misyr: Look at your detective. Arsé-kun: *Watson looks back* Sheepy: *Holmes has his face buried in his arms. He's out.* Arsé-kun: *speedrunning falling asleep at the table any % ~daku* Sheepy: Misyr: See? Arsé-kun: Watson: .... You're hired for the afternoon. Sheepy: Misyr: Anyway, it's talking about some alien poison. Arsé-kun: Watson: Hm? That is not what I expected. Go on. Sheepy: Misyr: Something about concerns of it being airborne and the kitchen potentially having an outbreak of it. Sheepy: Misyr: Something about concerns of it being airborne and the kitchen potentially having an outbreak of it. Sheepy: Misyr:...Potentially a mold, but it might be something else? Arsé-kun: Watson: That does warrant investigation. Without him. He'd barge in without any protection. Sheepy: Misyr:...Protection? Arsé-kun: Watson: ... So he doesn't get poisoned himself again. Sheepy: Misyr: Again, huh. Arsé-kun: Watson: Again. Sheepy: Misyr: He's... really lacking in brains where they're needed most, huh! Arsé-kun: Watson: The common-sense part does not always work. Sheepy: Misyr: Well, a demon lord like me can tank any poison. Arsé-kun: Watson: I already hired you. No need to brag. Sheepy: Misyr: You might find better if I don't solidify my position. Sheepy: Misyr: When are we going? Arsé-kun: Watson: If you'd like to go now, I wouldn't be against it. Sheepy: Misyr: Great, great! Lead the way! Arsé-kun: *Watson brings Misyr (and Merlin by extension) to the investigation site- Agravain's dorm room* Sheepy: *The sign stating "WELCOME TO MY TORTURE CHAMBER" doesn't put off welcoming vibes, especially since this is not a torture chamber.* Arsé-kun: *Merlin thinks it is funny still* Sheepy: Misyr: I can't wait to suffer from his kitchen mold. Arsé-kun: Merlin: You'd better go first then, grampa. Sheepy: Misyr: Ah, fine! *he enters.* Arsé-kun: *It is clean. It's so fuckin' clean. There's like three noticeable spots of mess from the doorway, and they're all connected to Agravain's roommate being a neet. He is staring from his blanket fortress but does nothing else.* Sheepy: Misyr: This is... not what I expected. Arsé-kun: Merlin: He keeps it super clean! He and Kay would probably throw down over who cleans their dorm more. Sheepy: Misyr: Clearly, if he's got a mold problem, it's Kay. Sheepy: Misyr: Hey, there's the kitchen. Sheepy: Misyr: You ready for mold? Arsé-kun: Merlin: Yup. Sheepy: *Misyr enters the kitchen.* Sheepy: Misyr: Hmm... hmm... where's that mold... Sheepy: Misyr: I'm not seeing mold... Arsé-kun: Merlin: Yeah, me neither. Sheepy: Misyr: So what does that mean? Agravain is guilty? Arsé-kun: Watson: It may not be mold. Remember, Holmes called it alien. Sheepy: Misyr: Good point, good point! You know, there's a spore back in my home world that eats at anything it touches? Man... it'd be nice to get rid of it. Sheepy: Misyr: Maybe this wouldn't even stand out... Sheepy: *Misyr analyzes his surroundings.* Arsé-kun: *there's some weird colored stuff on the floor. it's colored like... yah, it sure is a color. maybe* Sheepy: Misyr:...Found it. Sheepy: *Misyr approaches it.* Arsé-kun: *it's just kinda there.* Sheepy: *Misyr touches it.* Arsé-kun: *the floor tile it was on breaks on contact. it jumps to a new tile, leaving that one gray and falling apart.* Sheepy: Misyr: Huh. That's weird..... Arsé-kun: Merlin: What is That?? Sheepy: Misyr: *poke, poke* No clue. Sheepy: Misyr: I think it's afraid of me. Sheepy: Misyr: After all, a demon king like me shojld be feared, right? Ahahaha! Sheepy: Misyr:...But I wouldn't recommend you touching it, Merlin. Sheepy: Misyr: I mean, Gawain's human, so logically if it puts him in the hospital, it should put you in the hospital, too. Arsé-kun: Merlin: Yeah, of course... But it's givin' me pains just looking at it. It's like tv static but real. Arsé-kun: Merlin: ... But it's so damn cool looking. I want a picture of it. *he proceeds to take out his phone and take several pictures and a video* Sheepy: Misyr: The real question is, how did it get here? Sheepy: Misyr: A demon king like me can get rid of anything with the snap of my fingers... But actually, something like this would be hard to aim at. Sheepy: Misyr: Hey, Watson. What do you usually do in this scenario? Arsé-kun: Watson: If I am to be completely honest? Holmes deals with these kinds of situations. Sheepy: Misyr: Too bad he isn't here. Sheepy: Misyr: I guess we can't confirm or deny if this is the culprit. Arsé-kun: Watson: I'm inclined to say that can't be safe, no matter if it is or isn't. Sheepy: Misyr: Hmm... Hey, are the dorms insured? Arsé-kun: Watson: Uh... They should be? Sheepy: *Misyr snaps his fingers, and with a loud "kaboom!", he explodes the area where the color is!* Arsé-kun: *Damage total: Several broken floor tiles, scorch marks on the cabinet doors, everyone's hearing for a moment* Sheepy: Misyr: Ahahaha! Arsé-kun: Merlin: That worked too..! Sheepy: Misyr: A tiny fraction of my power! Arsé-kun: Merlin: Did you get it all? Sheepy: Misyr: *he looks around* Arsé-kun: *There doesn't seem to be any more of it* Sheepy: Misyr: I don't see any more of it Arsé-kun: Merlin: I hope that's it, then..! Sheepy: Misyr: We didn't leave any evidence for Holmes, but people will believe him regardless of if he has evidence or not. Arsé-kun: Merlin: I got video footage. Sheepy: Misyr: True... Sheepy: Misyr: Is there anything else to do here? Sheepy: Misyr: I guess if not it's time to go tell him the details of what ee found. Arsé-kun: Watson: Yes. I'll have to put in a notice to the dean about it. Sheepy: Misyr: Yes, good idea. Sheepy: Misyr: And I'll...eh... Sheepy: Misyr: Oh, your detective's probably still asleep back at the coffee shop. Sheepy: Misyr: He might lose something important to him if he isn't careful. Arsé-kun: Watson: I doubt anything will happen to him in there. Far too many people around. Sheepy: Misyr: True. Sheepy: Misyr: I guess I'll just, ehhhh... Sheepy: Misyr: Hang out on my usual spot! Arsé-kun: Watson: I'll go with you. If Holmes is still there, I might need to drag him home by force. Sheepy: Misyr: Right, we're going the same way anyway. And, ehhh... good luck. I'll try to help. Sheepy: *Misyr heads back to the coffee shop.* Arsé-kun: *So does Watson* Sheepy: *However, Holmes has disappeared without a trace!* Arsé-kun: Watson: Okay, good. He did leave. Sheepy: Misyr: Someone sleeping near my favorite spot would've become an eyesore after a while. Sheepy: Misyr: All the same, it'd have been nice if he'd actually told you he was leaving. Arsé-kun: Watson: I don't mind. He's always out and about. Sheepy: Misyr: He's all over the place, hm... Sheepy: Misyr: And yet, this campus feels very cramped. Arsé-kun: Watson: Is it? I think it's rather large for a campus. Sheepy: Misyr: Well, I'm used to something like my home world! Arsé-kun: Watson: On fire? Sheepy: Misyr: Ahahaha! Is that what you think my home world is like? Sheepy: Misyr:.......... Sheepy: Misyr: Eh... it's not really THAT exciting... But when you're a demon king, you're kinda stuck in a stuffy old castle all the time, so you don't really get thr opportunity to see the sights. Sheepy: Misyr: So maybe part of it is like that. I wouldn't know. Sheepy: Misyr: But the area around it is pretty expansive. Tons of demons to talk to, too. It's fun to play pranks on them. Arsé-kun: Watson: Mhm... Sheepy: Misyr: Ahaha! You need to see it to believe it, huh? Arsé-kun: Watson: I would say yes, but I'm not quite sure I'd enjoy it. Sheepy: Misyr: Well, sorry, but you can't. Sheepy: Misyr: I mean, it's where bad humans go, right? So... it's not really a place for someone like you. Arsé-kun: Watson: I'm flattered. Sheepy: Misyr: But me, on the other hand! Sheepy: Misyr:...Just know, no matter how much good you try to do, if life decides to throw you under the bus, there's nothing you can really do about it. You can just keep doing good and praying someone will save you one day. Sheepy: Misyr: And I'm the one who'd throw you under the bus, of course! Ahahaha! Arsé-kun: Watson: If not for your earlier display, I wouldn't be afraid of you at all. Sheepy: Misyr: E...eh?! Sheepy: Misyr: I've got to have fun sometimes. Arsé-kun: Watson: But that isn't what you said earlier. Sheepy: Misyr:...eh? Arsé-kun: Watson: I'll have to bounce a theory off Holmes later. Sheepy: Misyr:.....eh??? Sheepy: Misyr: Well, maybe I have to lie a bit to keep you guessing about me. Arsé-kun: Watson: Okay, Mr. Demon King. If you're so evil, obliterate the child in your seat. Sheepy: Misyr: O...obliterate a child? V...very simple. Sheepy: Misyr:....... Sheepy: Misyr:...........Seriously?! Maybe I've gotta take back what I said about you earlier! You're terrifying! Arsé-kun: Watson: So you can't do it? You're deflecting. Sheepy: Misyr: Khhh...! I could! Sheepy: Misyr: But I never would! Arsé-kun: Watson: Mmmmmmhmmmmmmmmm. *he intentionally drags this out while he thinks at mach 2* Sheepy: Misyr: You think I go around kicking puppies and hurting kids?! Why would I do that...? Do I really give off that kind of impression?! Arsé-kun: Watson: Then you don't really classify as evil. Sheepy: Misyr:?! Sheepy: Misyr: Well, you... Sheepy: Misyr:...You don't have to be evil to end up in a position like mine. Arsé-kun: Watson: That sounds reasonable. Sheepy: Misyr: But that doesn't make me any less of a monster. Sheepy: Misyr: I just gotta remember to watch what I say around you. Sheepy: Misyr: You're scary. You really could excel at being a demon. Arsé-kun: Watson: I'll take that as a compliment. Sheepy: Misyr: Keep it up and one day you'll be a demon king like me! Ahaha! Arsé-kun: Watson: Sure, and Hell will be empty. Sheepy: Misyr: Eh? Sheepy: Misyr: Where will everyone go? Sheepy: Misyr: They'll all have good souls to get away from you...? Sheepy: Misyr:....It's kinda empty as it is... Sheepy: Misyr: I mean there's a lot of demons, but as fun as it is to play pranks on them, I can't really get close to any of them. I might as well be all alone. Sheepy: Misyr:...Anyway! You were looking for someone, weren't you?! Sheepy: Misyr: Don't let me keep you!!! Arsé-kun: Watson: That is fair. Good luck with the child. Sheepy: Misyr: I'll just let him stay there... Sheepy: Misyr: It's his chair now. Arsé-kun: Watson: Like I said, good luck. Sheepy: Misyr:...Thanks. Sheepy: Misyr: Good luck with your detective! Arsé-kun: Watson: Thank you. Sheepy: Misyr: I'll be in my usual spot if you need me. Arsé-kun: Watson: I appreciate it. Arsé-kun: *Watson heads out to find Holmes* Sheepy: *Where do you check first, Watson?* Arsé-kun: *In front of himself. With his eyes, Daku* Sheepy: *wow* Arsé-kun: *but is holmes in sight from outside the shoppe?* Sheepy: *Unfortunately, he isn't.* Sheepy: *Holmes may have headed home to be tired on the comfort of the floor at home.* Arsé-kun: *That was Watson's third guess. The second was a bench* Sheepy: *Unfortunately, he doesn't seem to be on any benches either.* Arsé-kun: *Yeah, no shit, that's why he went home* Sheepy: *The first thing that greets him is... Holmes's coat and scarf dumped on the floor near the entrance. His shoes are in the middle of the room. How tidy!* Arsé-kun: *Well, that confirms a lot.* Sheepy: *However, he's not in his usual spot - the sofa.* Arsé-kun: Watson: ...? Sheepy: *Where could he be?* Arsé-kun: *Somewhere in this building, Watson hopes* Sheepy: *...There's the faint noise of someone mumbling to themselves in another room. There he is!* Arsé-kun: Watson: ...? Sheepy: *Although, this implies he's in bed... A rarity. A once in a blue moon occurrence!* Arsé-kun: Watson: ?? ???? *he goes to check* Sheepy: *It is Holmes! He's lying in bed, talking to himself. His speech is a little on the slurred, difficult to understand side, most likely thanks to lack of sleep.* Arsé-kun: Watson: ... Good evening. This is a pleasant surprise. Sheepy: Holmes: *he slowly looks over, dazed. He's still registering Watson. He seems to be trying to decide how to respond...* Arsé-kun: Watson: .. Would you rather I just wake you in the morning? Sheepy: Holmes: You... (There was something I was supposed to do... what was it...?) Arsé-kun: Watson: I will take that as a yes. The case was already finished and I intend to fill out the paperwork tonight. Do not worry about it. Sheepy: Holmes: Ah... good. (...Case. Right. There was a case, wasn't there. Was it important...?) Arsé-kun: Watson: It was as important as every other semi-average case. Now get some sleep for once. Please. I'll catch you up in the morning. Sheepy: Holmes:....Right. Arsé-kun: Watson: Anything else you want to say before I go? Sheepy: Holmes: Uh... good night. (...Unimportant...? So where do you fill into all of this... Why are you here?) Arsé-kun: Watson: Because I live with you, king idiot of shit mountain. Good night, Sherlock. Sheepy: *Watson receives a blank, unsteady stare in return.* Arsé-kun: Watson: I'll come up later on tonight. *and he exits scene after turning off the light* Sheepy: *Holmes drops his head back on the pillow again.* Arsé-kun: *Watson goes to do a shitton of paperwork. He still has not identified WHAT the thing was, but there is enough evidence to prove that it was not intentional harm* Sheepy: *Holmes is the one to thank for all the paperwork!* Sheepy: *Too bad he, as usual, has zero interest in actually filling it out.* Arsé-kun: *At least the paperwork will be legible this time* Sheepy: *True! That's the benefit of Watson doing it.* Arsé-kun: -Thursday, October 28th- Sheepy: *Time goes by. Eventually... the birds are singing. The flowers are blooming. And detectives like Holmes... should be even remotely active. He's not.* Arsé-kun: *Watson has already tried to wake him up. He failed, so he left to hand in the paperwork before going to his other job. Busy man* Sheepy: *Poor Watson. If only a certain someone would help.* Sheepy: *Lucan is making his life harder by doing something he isn't supposed to do. So, the usual.* Arsé-kun: Watson: ... Why must you hurt us like this, Lucan? Sheepy: Lucan: If you had a proper cooking staff, I wouldn't have to do this. And yet, I'm stuck with the same awful food daily. Haha... I was even gifted something explicitly against my diet. Arsé-kun: Watson: There is nothing I can do about this, but I understand your point. It IS awful and I'd love for something to be done about it. Arsé-kun: Watson: ... What were you given? Sheepy: Lucan: Nothing that I ate. I wouldn't break my diet for something as awful as machine snacks. Arsé-kun: Watson: Okay, good. I appreciate you sticking to your unfortunate diet for now. Sheepy: Lucan: Tasteless hospital food and the occasional decent meal when I feel up to cooking... Sheepy: Lucan: What an awful diet... Sheepy: Lucan: Ahahaha, maybe Gawain can pitch in in the kitchen! Sheepy: Lucan: That way, all of my food can be mashed beyond recognition, too! Arsé-kun: Watson: Until we figure out exactly what it is you have, you're stuck with this. heepy: Lucan: How unfortunate. I'll be here for a while. Sheepy: Lucan: By the way, be careful in the kitchen. There's broken glass in there for whatever reason. Arsé-kun: Watson: not again Sheepy: Lucan: I very much wanted to clean it up. It took everything I had not to. Sheepy: Lucan: However, I realized that if I cut my fingers, it'd further ruin my image. I couldn't sacrifice such a thing just to clean one little area. Sheepy: Lucan: And if I wore myself out too much only to collapse and hit my head, I would be there until someone thought to enter the kitchen, which based on the quality of the food... Ah, I would say I'd be there for a while, but they might just step over me. One less mouth to feed. Arsé-kun: Watson: But you showed restraint. Good work. Sheepy: Lucan: Is that what you want to call it...? Restraint? Arsé-kun: Watson: You didn't do the activity that'd cause you to cut your hands up. So, yes. Sheepy: Lucan: Well, I won't complain. Restraint is a needed trait for someone of my intended occupation. Arsé-kun: Watson: Restraint is often needed in many lines of work. Sheepy: Lucan: Even in yours? Arsé-kun: Watson: The temptation to smack Holmes upside the head is high some days. Sheepy: Lucan: Poor you, having to deal with him daily. Sheepy: Gawain: ...Hey. Did you figure out who poisoned me...? Arsé-kun: Watson: Yes. It was less of a who and more of a what. It's been cleaned out. Sheepy: Gawain: "It"? Sheepy: Gawain: So Agravain's been living with poison in his kitchen all this time without knowing it? Sheepy: Lucan: I wouldn't be surprised if he knew but just left it for if he ever needed it. Arsé-kun: Watson: I doubt it's been there long. It was highly noticeable. Sheepy: Gawain: So what was it? Arsé-kun: Watson: With all honesty? ... I genuinely have no idea. Sheepy: Gawain: I consumed... something. And no one knows what it is? Arsé-kun: Watson: I think it was so little that food poisoning should be the only result. The kitchen offender was no bigger than a tile. Sheepy: Gawain: I hope Agravain isn't too concerned. Sheepy: Lucan: Considering he was saying he'd do this willingly, I doubt it. Arsé-kun: Watson: Given what I saw of his demeanor? He is either genuinely unconcerned, or very concerned and not showing it. Sheepy: Lucan: Sounds like you're flying solo. Sheepy: Lucan: Really, what a man, dumping his work on you... This is what the school pays for... Detectives who don't work cases and professors who don't teach classes. Unfortunately, the janitor is one of the first to come to mind when I think of someone who does their job. Sheepy: Lucan: Of course, the doctors and some of the professors as well. Sheepy: Lucan: I'm sure without the whole issue of monsters and the path, we'd have better manpower and a truly functioning college. It's just easy to forget all that when all you see day in and day out is white walls. Arsé-kun: Watson: This one is on me- I took it on my own intentionally, but otherwise I entirely agree. Arsé-kun: Watson: But of course we'd be better equipped without any of this going on. Because it wouldn't be blocking supply and travel routes. Sheepy: Lucan: I could complain, "if only it'd end!"... But really, that'd require that someone be capable of ending it. Currently, we have no one like this. Sheepy: Lucan: But at least he didn't dump it on you. Sheepy: Lucan: This time. Arsé-kun: Watson: Yes, thankfully. Arsé-kun: *Eventually, Watson gets to checking up Gawain- the thing he came in here for* Sheepy: *Gawain is patient and doesn't react much. He's used to doctors* Arsé-kun: *GEE I wonder WHY* Sheepy: *Maybe thanks to all of his accidents* Arsé-kun: *"Accidents". There are no accidents in football!* Sheepy: *True!* Sheepy: *Meanwhile, Lucan has decided to lie down. He's worn himself out. Ouch* Sheepy: Gawain: Will I be able to go soon...? Arsé-kun: Watson: Most likely yes. Once you feel better, you should be allowed to go. Sheepy: Gawain: I hope that's soon... Arsé-kun: Watson: I don't see why it wouldn't be. Sheepy: Lucan: Well, I've been here forever. Why wouldn't he be? Arsé-kun: Watson: There's a difference between food poisoning and immunodeficiencies. Sheepy: Lucan: I finally understand why I could never be a doctor. Sheepy: Lucan: You need to confirm you have no sense of humor before you're allowed to practice. Sheepy: Lucan: With buttling, you can at least torment... Ah, I mean kid around with your employer some. Sheepy: Lucan: However, I suppose it'd even be difficult for me to buttle, considering my limited stamina and tendency to get sick. Could you imagine that? A butler, getting their employer sick? Ahahaha... You could say I'd hold ill will against my employer. Ahahaha! Arsé-kun: Merlin: [chat] HEY YOU GUYS WANNA SEE SOMETHIN WEIRD I SAW IN AGGYS HOUS YESTERDAY Sheepy: Lucan: [chat] oh, that's called a mirror. Arsé-kun: *[Merlin sent an image of the coloured thing captioned "headaches for everyone!"]* Sheepy: Lucan: [chat] what is that Arsé-kun: Merlin: [chat] That's what was in Aggys kitchen. It's so small but so weird looking. i wanna touch it Sheepy: Bedi: [chat] "Some of ir escaped." -Grif Arsé-kun: Lot: [chat] That's concerning Sheepy: Bedi: [chat] He hasn't specified further. Sheepy: Lucan: [chat] if you ask too many questuons he just bited you Sheepy: Agravain: [chat] I would never leave such an unsightly mess in my kitchen. Tell me what that is. Sheepy: Bedi: [chat] "Color" -Grif Sheepy: Lucan: [chat] it sure is Arsé-kun: Merlin: [chat] "It sure fuckin' is" ~Kay Sheepy: Lucan: [chat] lol so how did you get rid of it. a roomba? Arsé-kun: Merlin: [chat] The only good family I've ever seen blew it up. That things gone now. Sheepy: Agravain: [chat] Roombas are weak, lazy fellows who will never truly achieve a clean home. Never bring one into my dorm room. They will only cause problems. Arsé-kun: Merlin: [chat] "Amen to that!" ~Kay Sheepy: Lucan: [chat] lol imagine using a roomba Sheepy: Lucan: [chat] this chat is anti roomba. NO roombas allowed. Arsé-kun: Kay: [chat] pc finally booted! FUCK roombas! and fuck THAT Sheepy: Bedi: [chat] "They're kind mushrooms, even if their faces are mean. Do not step on them." -Grif Sheepy: Bedi: [chat] I don't know what he's referring to. Sorry. I'm sure it's not roombas. Arsé-kun: Merlin: [chat] If we had one, I'd only wanna put Fou on it. No cleaning only fou ride Sheepy: Lucan: [chat] oh hi kay Arsé-kun: Kay: [chat] It's roombas, and Arsé-kun: Kay: [chat] i did not hit her, i did not! i didnOh Hi Mark Sheepy: Bedi: [chat] Mushroom roomba...? Arsé-kun: Kay: [chat] He's an idiot. Arsé-kun: Kay: [chat] But okay, I'm gonna ask for deets Arsé-kun: Kay: [chat] Moron himself Sheepy: Bedi: [chat] I asked him for details. "Plumbers dislike them. They are mushroom shaped with angry faces. They walk slowly and dislike being stepped on... Do not sgep on them." Arsé-kun: Kay: [chat] his dad showed him mario. i hate that i understood this. wahoo. Arsé-kun: Lance: [chat] Wa-hoo Sheepy: Lucan: [chat] wahoooo! Arsé-kun: Kay: [chat] ITSSA ME Sheepy: Lucan: [chat] suuuperrr marrrioooo Arsé-kun: Kay: [chat] But okay, asking about the thing now-- WAOOOOOOOOOUW! Sheepy: Bedi: [chat]??? Arsé-kun: Merlin: [chat] SO LONG GAY BOWSER Sheepy: Lucan: [chat] wwwaaaa! waaaallluiiigi! Arsé-kun: Lance: [chat] WA WA WAH Sheepy: Bedi: [chat] What did you want help with, Kay? Arsé-kun: Kay: [chat] Im tryin to ask him about the headache puddle but he keeps going back to mario Sheepy: Lucan: [chat] you ever think about how mario's full name is mario mario and how luigi has to forever bear his brother's name as his title Sheepy: Bedi: [chat] Hold on a moment. Arsé-kun: Lance: [chat] we dont know marrage laws in mario, maybe he'll become luigi daisy Arsé-kun: Lot: [chat] I would certainly commit die Sheepy: Lucan: [chat] lot lot's bizarre adventuree Sheepy: Bedi: [chat] "It's a color." -Grif Arsé-kun: *[Merlin sends the MENACING emoji]* Sheepy: Bedi: [chat] "It's poisonous to people. I was supposed to clear a patch of it from the school. I let some out. Too bad. It can spread easily destroy what it touches. Oops." Arsé-kun: Lot: [chat] Tell him he almost got Gawain killed again and that we don't appreciate it. Arsé-kun: Kay: [chat] IF I WENT WITH HIM ON HIS LAST JOB ID CERTAINLY BE DEAD Sheepy: Bedi: [chat] "It's from space. Have you been to space before? It has. It survived being sent down here from a meteorite. It cannot be killed in any way that matters." Arsé-kun: Merlin: [chat] tell him my cool grampa wizard blew some up Sheepy: Bedi: [chat] He looked surprised and then remarked that he needs to get stronger to match your grandpa. By the way, I don't think he feels bad about Gawain's state. He said that it isn't edible and shouldn't be eaten. Please do not eat it again. Sheepy: Lucan: [chat] lol like he had the option not to eat it Sheepy: Lucan: [chat] man we need better employees at this campus. if the monsters don't kill us, the staff will somehow lol Sheepy: Lucan: [chat] dio's inability to teach a class if his life depended on it. the kitchen staff foe the hospital making tasteless food. employees leaving broken glass in the kitchen. grof unleashing who knows what on us. not a good look for our survival... lol Sheepy: Lucan: [chat] btw I watched the guy who maintains the flowers and plants on the campus get in a fist fight with the janitor so there's that too Arsé-kun: Kay: [chat] good! who won Sheepy: Lucan: [chat] well Sheepy: Lucan: [chat]... Sheepy: Lucan: [chat] the gardener's wife Arsé-kun: Kay: [chat] hell yeah Sheepy: Lucan: [chat] she ended it by taking them both out Arsé-kun: Kay: [chat] cant believe uncle squidfuck got assblasted by normal lady. get positively bitchslapped Sheepy: Lucan: [chat] lololol he deserves it Sheepy: Lucan: [chat] I can't think of a single person who likes him. not even lobo likes him and lobo likes everyone Sheepy: Bedi: [chat] Wrong, Lobo bites Grif if he gets close enough, apparently. Sheepy: Lucan: [chat] imagine being hated by lobo LOL wouldn't be me. although one tine he licked ke and I got siper sick aftwrwarda Sheepy: Lucan: [chat] btw just wondering grif said he went and let it out and that it spreads so technically it's all over his clothes, right? just food for thught Arsé-kun: Kay: [chat] TIME TO DO THE LAUNDRY Sheepy: Lucan: [chat] rip but also don't come near me until you know you aren't infected because I WILL die Sheepy: Lucan: [chat] not even as a joke, I seriously do mean this, if I get infected by that stuff it'll probably kill me Sheepy: Bedi: [chat] Grif seems doubtful that it's on his clothing, but commented that he's willing to let Merlin's grandpa destroy him if it means reducing the risk. Sheepy: Lucan: [chat] isn't that consifered murder in at least 50 countries Sheepy: Lucan: [chat] Merlin's grandpa chooses... Kill Arsé-kun: Kay: [chat] read; i need to slap grif for being stupid Sheepy: Lucan: [chat] do it do it do it Sheepy: Bedi: [chat] "Furthermore, it runs the risk of permanently killing me. If he can destroy the color, he could permanently kill me. Too bad." Arsé-kun: Kay: [chat] So not doing that, right, anyway Sheepy: Bedi: [chat] Yes... Arsé-kun: Kay: [chat] Merlin's grandpa should just nuke the source. issue solved Sheepy: Lucan: [chat] lol true Sheepy: Lucan: [chat] he shoild nuke the monsters while he's at it Arsé-kun: Merlin: [chat] apparently HIS grandpa is worse. so HE should do it Sheepy: Lucan: [chat] they can just eviscerafe us while they're at it lol Sheepy: Bedi: [chat] "My great grandpa could destroy everything too." Arsé-kun: Kay: [chat] ok fuck this im gonn ask grifs dad (orb) Sheepy: Lucan: [chat] good luck on that Sheepy: *Grif has the orb. Thankfully, he's nearby!* Arsé-kun: Kay: Hey, so what the fuck ARE the colors and don't say they're colors again. That doesn't help! Sheepy: Grif: ...? Arsé-kun: Kay: Actually, no, fuck this Sheepy: Grif: They're from space. Arsé-kun: Kay: Paimon, define color. Sheepy: Grif: One day I want to go to space and visit my dad... Arsé-kun: Yog: I never thought you'd ask me directly. I wasn't prepared for this, hold on a moment. Sheepy: Grif: Did you know that there's no oxygen is space? I've heard that it's very breathtaking there. Sheepy: Grif:.....Ha. Ha. Ha. Arsé-kun: Yog: Ha. Haha. Sheepy: Grif: Kay. Do you know what planet is the sweetest? Arsé-kun: Kay: what Sheepy: Grif: Mars-ipan. Arsé-kun: Kay: ... Heh. Okay, that was a good one Sheepy: Grif: Ha. Ha. Ha. Arsé-kun: Yog: Colour Out of Space: proper noun. They are migratory virus-like beings often mistaken for parasitic. They enter new environments via meteorite, leave upon impact, and drain energy from the area. While this is extremely damaging to the area and any living things in the area, they do not return once they reach adulthood. Some offshoots may stay put when the adult leaves, but they are usually too small to make the journey themselves. Sheepy: Grif: Hmm...hmmmm... Sheepy: Grif: Too small... It's a little sad in a way. They just leave their offshoots all alone. Arsé-kun: Yog: It is a bit sad. They're basically doomed unless some new energy source enters the area. Sheepy: Grif: The adults are just like mom. Arsé-kun: Yog: ... Yes, I suppose so. Sheepy: Grif: Do you think there's someone out there that can just take care of them? To think of the little offshoots, all alone, without anyone to care for them... I don't really want them to go through that. Arsé-kun: Yog: They barely have sentience, so I don't think they mind too much. Sheepy: Grif: Really? Sheepy: Grif: Hmm... hmmm... does it really matter...? Arsé-kun: Yog: Think of them like plants, but worse. Sheepy: Grif: So plants don't have feelings? Arsé-kun: Yog: No, not really. Sheepy: Grif:..... Sheepy: Grif: But all the same... I feel guilty leaving them like that. Arsé-kun: Yog: We'll see if the local one leaves any of itself behind or not. Sheepy: Grif: If so, let's find a caretaker for it. Arsé-kun: *Kay has left to painfully transcribe what Yog said, and send it to the others. knowledge* Sheepy: Lucan: [chat] hey check this out Sheepy: *Lucan sends a pic taken from his window. Holmes is looking at Lobo, who's snarling at him! That's a rare look.* Arsé-kun: Merlin: [chat] angry puby Sheepy: Lucan: [chat] despite how angry he looks I wanna pet him Arsé-kun: Lot: [chat] Did the detective ban him from the hospital grounds again? Sheepy: Lucan: [chat] idk lol Sheepy: Lucan: [chat] wait hold on he's trying to pet lobo despite this Sheepy: Lucan: [chat] uuuuhhhhhh Arsé-kun rolled a die with 20 sides. The die showed: 20 Sheepy: Lucan: [chat] lobo snapped at him but he pulled his hand away before losing it Arsé-kun: Lot: [chat] He must be angry? Sheepy: Lucan: [chat] it's gone back to a staring contest and I'm wondering if blood will spill if O don't di anythinf Arsé-kun: Kay: [chat] tf are you gonna do? cough on them? Sheepy: Lucan: [chat] idk lol Sheepy: Lucan: [chat] well, hrs near the hodpital ud anything hapoens but that won't help yjat much if lobo bites him fatalky. Sheepy: Lucan: [chat] did you know that holmes keeps bones in his pocket Arsé-kun: Lance: [chat] sounds right for the git Sheepy: Lucan: [chat] uhhhhh apparently lobo didn't want the bone and just bit him instrad Arsé-kun: Lance: [chat] haha Sheepy: Lucan: [chat] that looked very painful. imagine getting bit by lobo. wouldn't be me lol Sheepy: Lucan: [chat]...should I be telling someone about this Arsé-kun: Lance: [chat] You are. or do you mean more important someone Sheepy: Lucan: [chat] someone who can help Sheepy: Lucan: [chat] should I go to wayson, I was talking to him earlier so he must be here still? Arsé-kun: *Too late, Lucan, he's already there* Sheepy: *Despite the injuries and blood that Lobo left on Holmes, Holmes seems more confused and dazed than anything.* Arsé-kun: *..Which is Watson's main concern. He's obviously going to tend to the injuries, but he's going to multitask and chew out Holmes at the same time* Sheepy: *Lobo is whining and snarling at Holmes, having backed off a lot from the detective. He seems conflicted between turning tail and fleeing or keeping an eye on Watson.* Arsé-kun: Watson: --And what the, pardon my language, actual fuck did you get into that is SO bad even Lobo hates it? Sheepy: Holmes: ...? Sheepy: Holmes: I wouldn't know the answer to that. Arsé-kun rolled a die with 20 sides. The die showed: 11 Sheepy rolled a die with 20 sides. The die showed: 14 Arsé-kun: Watson: You don't know something? That's weird enough as is. Sheepy: Holmes: I can say with certainty that I never got into anything. Arsé-kun: Watson: But did anything get into you? Sheepy: Holmes:........ Arsé-kun: Watson: ... I was joking, please do not tell me that was right Sheepy: Holmes: Ahahaha... No, I was just thinking. Sheepy rolled a die with 20 sides. The die showed: 7 Arsé-kun rolled a die with 20 sides. The die showed: 20 Arsé-kun: ∑(͡°◞౪◟͡° ) Sheepy: *Unfortunately, Holmes is less good of a liar than usual. Much less good.* Arsé-kun: Watson: Out with it, Holmes. Lobo does not attack people without reasons, usually. Sheepy: Holmes: (What to do, what to do... what are my options here...) Arsé-kun: ?: (I could show myself for you? If it isn't your fault, you're guiltless.) Sheepy: Holmes: (Wouldn't that cause problems for you?) Sheepy: Holmes: Really, you'll make me confess my sin, right here and now? Sheepy: Holmes: Hmmm... isn't it too early for that? Usually mysteries like this last much longer in your stories. Arsé-kun: Watson: Sherlock. Sheepy: Holmes: However, if you insist... Sheepy: Holmes: I will say... Sheepy: Holmes: I am only somewhat guilty for what has just occurred. Arsé-kun: Watson: That answers nothing. Sheepy: Holmes: I will also say... the answer is in here. *He points to his head.* Arsé-kun: Watson: Gee, no shit it is! Sheepy: Holmes: Are those not enough hints? Arsé-kun: Watson: All you have told me is that you went along with something and that you know of it. Not helpful at all. Sheepy: Holmes: Ahahaha. You only look at my words with one possible meaning! Sheepy: Holmes: (...I'm quickly running out of material.) Arsé-kun: ?: (But isn't explaining outright "common sense"?) Sheepy: Holmes: (Do you really want to be outed?) Sheepy: Holmes: (I can't imagine his reaction being positive if he finds out about you.) Sheepy: Holmes: Let us consider those who have also set off Lobo in the past. Sheepy: Holmes: What traits did they all share? Arsé-kun: Watson: Being the janitor. Sheepy: Holmes:..... Sheepy: Holmes:........ Arsé-kun: Watson: Or similar to. Sheepy: Holmes: Well, I suppose one could argue that the janitor could possess anyone he pleases. Arsé-kun: *Watson picks up his cane expectantly* Sheepy: Holmes: Eh... Well, you'd basically be right. Sheepy: Holmes: But it's not the janitor. I am just giving him temporary... how do I put this. Sheepy: Holmes:... "housing". Sheepy: Holmes: He is harmless, really. No need to worry about him. Sheepy: *Holmes seems to be beginning to struggle to hold back his reaction to the pain from his injury.* Arsé-kun: Watson: Not when it gets you fucked up by a dog. Arsé-kun: *Aza peers out from behind Holmes and waves in a "Friendly greeting". Where did he come from?* Arsé-kun: Watson: ..... Sheepy: Holmes: I knew you would be fully against the idea so I planned not to say anything until I'd finished... *He begins grimacing. Oh no, he's starting to focus on the pain.* F-finished... Sheepy: Holmes:...helping... him. Sheepy: *Lobo is trembling all over from Aza...* Sheepy: Holmes: W-watson, how much damage was done? Arsé-kun: Watson: ... About as much as you goddamn expect from a hellhound latching its jaws onto you. Sheepy: Holmes: Hahahaha... I didn't expect him to actually bite me. Sheepy: Holmes: Good thing you're right here to... to treat it. ... But th-this isn't the worst pain I've experienced...ahaha. ... *He's trying to smile. It's not working very well.* Sheepy: Holmes:...Do you think it'll cause longterm damage? Arsé-kun: Watson: I hope not, but I cannot immediately say. Sheepy: Holmes: (... Now that I think of it... the pain that I experienced from that time... Despite my body being so broken, the only lasting damage is my total lack of memories from before then. ... If I help you, could you help me get them back?) Arsé-kun: Aza: (... I do not know. I've never tried before. I would have to ask my children for advice first maybe...? Or I could just try...? I want to pet the dog.) Sheepy: Holmes: (I... think the dog doesn't want to be pet right now.) Sheepy: Holmes: (I'd rather you ask for advice first, by the way. I need my brain to be able to solve cases.) Sheepy: *Lobo is gently tugging on Watson. He's trying to help protect Watson from the scary guy. He's not helping very much* Arsé-kun: Watson: ... Yes, thank you, Lobo. I know. Sheepy: Holmes: (You can try, but please don't make me get bit again. Humans can't handle a lot of damage.) Sheepy: Holmes: Well? Are you angry I hid this from you? Ah... No, that isn't quite right in terms of wording. Sheepy: Holmes: I was never given a chance to tell you. Sheepy: Holmes: I barely remember yesterday and today I awoke without you there. I decided to come visit you when I spotted Lobo in a place he was not supposed to be. Sheepy: Holmes: So, to say I hid this from you... Well, I had the intent to hide it from you, but in the end I never did. Arsé-kun: Watson: I'm not angry. I would have appreciated being told first and foremost. Arsé-kun: Watson: After all, it's not like you know everything about me either. But that isn't here nor there. Arsé-kun: Watson: Did you learn your lesson about not sleeping at night yet? Sheepy: Holmes: Hmm... I don't know everything about me either. Sheepy: Holmes: I will say that it doesn't boost my productivity during the day time. Sheepy: Holmes: However... with some extra tests, I could gauge the exact amount of time I could go without sleeping before my productivity falls instead of rises. Arsé-kun: Watson: Maybe you should... Not do that. Arsé-kun: *Aza is still staring at Lobo. fluffy* Sheepy: *Lobo is still whining and growling. He seems unsure on what to do.* Sheepy: Holmes: If I could just go entirely without sleeping... Sleep provides one incredibly important benefit, and that is dreaming. Sometimes, this can help me solve problems. Otherwise... it's my own body's weakness that prevents me from doing more than I currently can. Arsé-kun: Watson: Deal with it. You can't beat it. Sheepy: Holmes: You sound like you know from experience. Could it be... Sheepy: Holmes: You've tried yourself before? Arsé-kun: Watson: .... Perhaps. Sheepy: Holmes: But the more I sleep, the less time I get to spend with you. Although, if I align my sleep schedule with yours... No, you wake up too early. Sheepy: Holmes: Although if I set up my schedule so I have both time for sleep and social interaction... No, I'd be sacrificing too much time from my job. Sheepy: Holmes: Too bad. It seems I have no choice but to keep going with my current habits. Sheepy: Holmes: Although if I set up my schedule so I have both time for sleep and social interaction... No, I'd be sacrificing too much time from my job. Sheepy: Holmes: Too bad. It seems I have no choice but to keep going with my current habits. Arsé-kun: Watson: You can take naps during the day. Use this critical information. Sheepy: Holmes: Hmmm... But when...? Sheepy: Holmes:.... Sheepy: Holmes: Well, I'll let you figure that out. Arsé-kun: Watson: I have nothing to figure out. Thats on you. Sheepy: Holmes:?! Sheepy: Holmes: Ah, you never told me of yesterday's case. ...However... Sheepy: Holmes:...I've already lost interest in it. Arsé-kun: Watson: It was... Some multi-colored thing. Misyr got rid of it for us. Sheepy: Holmes: Well, good for me. I was dreading working on it. Arsé-kun: Aza: ... This? *he's got a Colour on his sleeve. said sleeve is being desaturated and ruined at record rates* They haven't been fed. Of course they will escape and take refuge. Sheepy: Holmes: What... what is that? Arsé-kun: Aza: Colour. Sheepy: Holmes: It, it sure is. Arsé-kun: *Watson has given up on this situation and focused on Holmes' arm* Sheepy: Holmes: How do we feed it in order to prevent this from happening...? Arsé-kun: Aza: uh. not like this. Sheepy: Holmes:.... Sheepy: Holmes: What do they eat...? Arsé-kun: Aza: .... yes? Sheepy: Holmes:..... That doesn't really help. Arsé-kun: Aza: I hear this often. Sheepy: Holmes: What would be in large supply... Sheepy: Holmes:...Watson, what do you think? Arsé-kun: Watson: I think you're about to hate me. I'm going to clean your idiot wound. Sheepy: Holmes: Ahahaha, could I ever hate you? Arsé-kun: Watson: It's peroxide. Sheepy: Holmes:..... Sheepy: Holmes: I see... So that's the answer... Sheepy: *Holmes inhales sharply, bracing himself* Arsé-kun: *When the cleaning stuff touches ur wound, that's a-misery* Sheepy: *Holmes didn't brace himself enough and lets out an uncharacteristic yelp.* Sheepy: Holmes: Th-that never gets easier to deal with...! Khhh...! There's really nothing less painful?! Arsé-kun: Watson: If it exists, I don't know about it. Sheepy: Holmes: It should...! Arsé-kun: *Watson doesn't engage, instead starting to wrap the wound. They've had this discussion several times already* Sheepy: Holmes: *he watches Watson work, trying to keep his mind off of the pain. It doesn't help* Arsé-kun: *Aza also watches. How Interesting* Sheepy: Holmes: It... it could've been a worse injury. Arsé-kun: Watson: Please consider your actions next time. Sheepy: Holmes: With such a great doctor, why should I worry about my health? Arsé-kun: Watson: Because I have to worry extra about yours. Sheepy: Holmes: Is that so... Arsé-kun: Watson: I'm a doctor, not your personal housecalling nurse. Sheepy: Holmes: Housecalling... we live together, so you wouldn't need to be called. Arsé-kun: Watson: Yes. Yes we do live together. Arsé-kun: Watson: *deadpan* we've been married for six years now. i hope we live together. Sheepy: Holmes: Ahaha! Of course! Six very happy ones! Arsé-kun: Watson: Six happy but also very chaotic years. You're a disaster personoid. Sheepy: Holmes: Personoid? Arsé-kun: Watson: It sounded better. Sheepy: Holmes: Ahaha, I work hard to keep you on your toes. Arsé-kun: Watson: You don't need to. Sheepy: Holmes: Wouldn't you get bored? Arsé-kun: Watson: Certainly not. Sheepy: Holmes: I'll take that in consideration the next time I think about doing something reckless. Arsé-kun: Kay: No you won't. I dunno what this is about but no you ain't, dumbass. Point the thing out to Grif so I can go back home. Sheepy: Holmes: ..Thing? Sheepy: Grif: Hello, grandpa. Sheepy: Holmes:...I'm not that old. Arsé-kun: Aza: You're Holmes. Sheepy: Grif: Grandpa, you turned me into a corpse. Arsé-kun: Aza: ... Sheepy: Grif:...I got better. Arsé-kun: Aza: How did I do that? I have not seen you since you got me the Shan repellant. Sheepy: Grif: You blew me up. Arsé-kun: *Visible confusion despite half his face being covered with hair* Sheepy: Grif: Glaaki stole Dad and after I got him back, you blew up Glaaki, Dad, and me. Sheepy: Grif: It hurt a lot. Arsé-kun: Aza: That is unfortunate. Sheepy: Grif: I don't know if Elyan was affected. He isn't one to show much emotion. Sheepy: Grif: Awful. Horrible. You'd do it again, wouldn't you? Sheepy: Grif: Death is painful and revival is extremely uncomfortable. Arsé-kun: Aza: Dying more than once isn't recommended. I am told it's bad for humans. Sheepy: Grif: Humans can't. Arsé-kun: Aza: Humans can't die? That sounds incorrect. Arsé-kun: Watson: .... Harmless, you said, Holmes? Sheepy: Grif: They can't die more than once. They can only die once. Sheepy: Holmes:...He seemed harmless. Arsé-kun: Aza: That isn't what Nyarla told me. I will question him later. Arsé-kun: Aza: ... For now, I will not be detonating. I am learning from this one, and they from I. Earthlings are very fragile. Sheepy: Grif: Are you possessing him? You have to be very gentle. Sheepy: Grif: His level is low. Arsé-kun: Aza: Those words mean nothing to me. Sheepy: Grif: His level is locked at 77. Arsé-kun: Aza: ... Give me scale to understand. Sheepy: Grif:...Hmmmm... Sheepy: Grif: ..... Sheepy: Grif: The usual maximum is 99. Very few can go over this. Sheepy: Grif: However, the I have also seem some with strange levels. This one guy often in the cafe has a level. I think. I cannot tell. It's corrupted. Arsé-kun: Aza: ... I may be stupid, but I understand numbers. 22 under the top score is not low. Sheepy: Grif: But he isn't allowed to budge from this. Arsé-kun: Aza: ... What is mine for scale? Sheepy: Grif: Your level is 150 currently. Please note that the cap is not necessarily a constant thing. Sometimes it doesn't apply. Arsé-kun: Aza: ... That seems appropriate. I have severely weakened my avatar for this encounter to work, as communication was impossible prior. Arsé-kun: Kay: Did you fuckin' forget why you're here, moron?! Sheepy: Grif: The detective is currently suffering from status ailments. He might be level 77, but he is lower than that in strength right now. Sheepy: Grif: Yes. Arsé-kun: Kay: *ahem* *imitating Yog poorly* Get that Colour back in containment before it escapes any further, blah, blah blah, handle the dangerous thing barehanded you stupid bitch Sheepy: Grif: Barehanded, hm. Arsé-kun: Kay: Don't actually do that Sheepy: Grif: I will do so. Arsé-kun: Kay: you stupid motherfucker Sheepy: Grif: *He takes out a jar* I'll use this instead. Sheepy: Grif: *He puts the color in the jar* I will feed them so they don't escape again. Arsé-kun: Aza: They will leave when they are mature, but they are not at that point. Sheepy: Grif: Yes. I know. It'll be sad to see them go. Sheepy: Holmes:...This is your grandfather? Sheepy: Grif: My great grandfather. Sheepy: *Lucan is watching this unfold from the window. Lobo is chewing on Grif. He doesn't seem to notice.* Arsé-kun: *Kay wants to leave* Sheepy: Grif: Right. I need to deliver this color. Sheepy: Grif: Have fun, Grandpa. Just don't be too reckless. Arsé-kun: Aza: Don't be two reckless? What about one reckless? Sheepy: Grif: Uh... I don't know. Sheepy: Grif: Anyway, we need to deliver this, Kay. Arsé-kun: Kay: Yeah you do. Sheepy: Grif: *He begins leaving, Lobo following purely to continue chewing on Grif* Sheepy: Holmes:.... Ailment that weakens me? Arsé-kun: Watson: I have no idea. Sheepy: Holmes: And yet, I feel perfectly fit and running at my full potential. Arsé-kun: Watson: Except for that arm. Sheepy: Holmes: Hm... I suppose I shouldn't worry too much. Arsé-kun: Watson: Agreed. Sheepy: Holmes: And yet.. I find myself wondering. But running an investigation on myself seems egotistical. Arsé-kun: Watson: We can consider it once we've finished that load of work you have still. Sheepy: Holmes: Ah.... That. Sheepy: Holmes: I need a good case. These ones bore me to tears. Arsé-kun: Watson: So dump these on Mortimer and then suffer with no cases? Sheepy: Holmes:.....Hm... No cases... or boring cases...? Arsé-kun: Watson: Or you can come back inside and help me with my job for once. Your call. Sheepy: Holmes: How can I help? Sheepy: Holmes: Yours requires training and knowledge. Sheepy: Holmes: Mine... I just mess around. Really, anyone could do it. Ahahaha! Arsé-kun: Watson: You can be a secretary. You're not doing hard labor with that arm now anyway. Sheepy: Holmes: Secretary... What a degrading job. I'll do it. Arsé-kun: Aza: *Very unhelpfully and ominously* (The balance has been restored.) Sheepy: Holmes: Ah, what I'd give for Lupin to steal something right now. Some days, all I feel like doing is staring up at the ceiling, playing a tune from my heart. Sheepy: Holmes: (... What does that mean?) Arsé-kun: Aza: (I took a peek elsewhere. It seems to be a constant event where ones similar to you encounter a... Similar circumstance. .... .... That was not clear, was it?) Sheepy: Holmes: (No, it wasn't.) Arsé-kun: Aza: (Others, in other universes, that share your name. Injuries seem to be a constant- Especially in the humerus, ulna, and radius areas, according to an alternate avatar of mine.) Sheepy: Holmes: (... What.) Arsé-kun: Aza: (....... Arm.) Arsé-kun: Aza: (They vary greatly. Sometimes similar, sometimes not. One is similar to a remarkable degree except species. One is purple. One makes me hope I'm not that stupid. There's a dog. Another dog. um. Misc.) Sheepy: Holmes: (... Purple.) Sheepy: Holmes: (Do they all have Watson as a companion? What's he like?) Arsé-kun: Aza: (Sometimes. Sometimes he is shared between multiple. Bowler hat.) Sheepy: Holmes: (Bowler hat...) Sheepy: Holmes: (Multiple...) Sheepy: Holmes:...Watson? What would you do if there was more than one of me? Arsé-kun: Watson: Die of overwork. Sheepy: Holmes: Really? Am I so tiring? Arsé-kun: Watson: If I'm doing half your job, yes! Sheepy: Holmes: Hmm... the paperwork... is that half the job...? Arsé-kun: Watson: Yes! Sheepy: Holmes: I just stick it in a pile and forget about it. It doesn't seem too bad. Arsé-kun: Watson: I'd smack you for that. Sheepy: Holmes: I just got bit...! Arsé-kun: Watson: That's why you haven't been. Stop doing that! Sheepy: Holmes: Why do the paperwork? The case is done. It's dealt with. Sheepy: Holmes: There's no reason for paperwork. They know it's done. They don't need to worry about the details. Arsé-kun: Watson: They need it for legal reasons. Sheepy: Holmes: Hmm... Sheepy: Holmes: Well, I'm glad I can count on you to do it! Sheepy: Holmes: That, or I'd need a new occupation. Arsé-kun: Watson: Which you won't. Sheepy: Holmes: Well, I wouldn't say that. Sheepy: Holmes: If I could... I'd become a beekeeper, I think. Sheepy: Holmes: Really, it'd be the perfect job for someone with little to no skills! Arsé-kun: Watson: You need to know how to keep them alive. Sheepy: Holmes: They shouldn't be too different from plants, right? Arsé-kun: Watson: .... So no pets either. Sheepy: Holmes: E...eh? Not even a dog? Arsé-kun: Watson: Especially not with that... *he gestures* Hitchhiking in you. Sheepy: Holmes: But afterwards... Arsé-kun: Watson: Then maybe. Sheepy: Holmes: Really, they're like plants, aren't they? Arsé-kun: Watson: No. Sheepy: Holmes: Hmmm... well, of course, you have to feed them daily and give them water. Arsé-kun: Watson: Walks, excersize, play. Sheepy: Holmes:..... Sheepy: Holmes: Daily... Arsé-kun: Watson: Yes, really. Sheepy: Holmes:.....Dogs seem like too much work. Plants just sit there and do everything for themselves. All you have to do is water them. Arsé-kun: Watson: And change the soil. Sheepy: Holmes: Really? The ones on the windowsill seem happy just being watered and talked to occasionally. Arsé-kun: *Watson just sighs* Sheepy: Holmes: I did pick up a book on how to take care of them when I got them. Sheepy: Holmes: However, I quickly grew bored of it. Sheepy: Holmes: I've since erased everything I've read from my memory. Arsé-kun: Watson: This is why we're not getting pets. Sheepy: Holmes: Hmmm... Sheepy: Holmes: Is there any pet you can just water once in a while? Arsé-kun: Watson: Moss. Sheepy: Holmes: Is there any pet you can just water once in a while? Arsé-kun: Watson: Moss. Sheepy: Holmes:...Moss? Sheepy: Holmes: Isn't that just a plant? Arsé-kun: Watson: Less maintenance. Sheepy: Holmes: Sometimes I consider how easy life would be if all I needed to do in order to survive was water myself once in a while. Arsé-kun: Watson: You'd die of boredom. Sheepy: Holmes: I just mean not needing food nor drink, everything else being the same. Arsé-kun: Watson: ... Speaking of which, have you eaten? Sheepy: Holmes: Hmhmhm... I'll leave that up to your imagination. Arsé-kun: Watson: You want hospital food? Because you're about to not have a choice in the matter. Sheepy: Holmes:?! Sheepy: Holmes: Your threats... are very concerning. Arsé-kun: Watson: Haven't you heard some of our vocal complaints? You're gonna be eating cardboard. Sheepy: Holmes: Ahahaha... Look at the time...! Arsé-kun: *Watson grabs Holmes' coat collar* Arsé-kun: Watson: Perish for your sins. Sheepy: Holmes: Now, n-now!! This can be solved in a million other ways! Much better ways! Arsé-kun: Watson: It could be worse. At least I'm getting you food. Sheepy: Holmes:...Maybe I'll try cooking as a hobby... Arsé-kun: Watson: How Horrifying. Sheepy: Holmes: Watson, can't you consider sparing me just this once? Arsé-kun: Watson: Absolutely not. Sheepy: Holmes: We're companions...! Do you feel no sympathy? Compassion? Arsé-kun: Watson: Not when you've earned a punishment for what you've done. Sheepy: Holmes: And yet, my crime is coming here upon awaking...! Arsé-kun: Watson: You could have ate first. You could have on the way here, even. And you didn't. Sheepy: Holmes: Ahaha...I could now...! Arsé-kun: Raph: ---Lucan, you know you have to come up here first! If you don't, you're missing not-cardboard Thursday! Sheepy: Lucan: Must I, when all I want is to lie in bed for the rest of the day? Arsé-kun: Raph: ... Fine, I'll come to you! Sheepy: Holmes: Raphael, Raphael. Just this once, could you save me? Arsé-kun: Raph: ...? Let me serve Lucan and I'll be right with you. Sheepy: Holmes: Ahaha... Arsé-kun: *Raph comes back in a few minutes* Sheepy: Holmes: Ah, you've come to save me. How unfortunate for you, Watson. Arsé-kun: Raph: Did you forget to do a basic care thing again? Is that why you're being sent to hell? Sheepy: Holmes: Well, I had a good reason. Arsé-kun: Watson: you did not Sheepy: Holmes: Really... being possessed isn't a good reason? Arsé-kun: Watson: ... Not in this case, no. But you're lucky. Sheepy: Holmes: Lucky... Arsé-kun: Watson: There's no cardboard today. How tragic. *he lets Holmes go* Sheepy: Holmes: I've been spared! Arsé-kun: Raph: I got you, fam. Pizza day. Sheepy: Holmes: Thank you, Raphael. Arsé-kun: *Jealous Merlin from across campus* Sheepy: Il: Were you trying to imitate those collar lift CGs? Usually the LI is supposed to lift the MC up against a wall by their collar in those. Usually it ends with locking eyes and a segment where one or both feel flustered. Arsé-kun: Watson: absolutely not Sheepy: Holmes:...LI? MC? CG? Sheepy: Holmes: Hmmm... Do either of you know what "level" or "status ailment" means? Sheepy: Il: Some otome games have combat. You can often level up to get stronger. Status ailments generally include sleep, poison, confusion, and bind. Arsé-kun: Raph: I mean, he's correct this time. Sheepy: Holmes: I was told incomprehensible information about being a certain level and having a status ailment. Arsé-kun: Raph: Who knows? Maybe it's true. Sheepy: Il: Maybe your status ailment is confusion. You're confused, after all. Sheepy: Holmes:...I doubt this. However, I suppose neither of you would know what that man was talking about. Arsé-kun: Raph: Like I said, who knows? Arsé-kun: Raph: Stop thinking so dang hard and get your pizza before it gets cold! Sheepy: *Holmes accepts the pizza!* Sheepy: *Okita is looming.* Arsé-kun: *Stop looming and get your pizza, sick boy! Lucan got his already!* Sheepy: *Okita hesitantly approaches.* Arsé-kun: *okita gets pizza* Sheepy: *Okita tries to decide between taking his window of opportunity to escape or sticking around to bug Watson.* Arsé-kun: *Watson is preoccupied with glaring holes into Holmes* Sheepy: Holmes:...Yes? What is it? Arsé-kun: Watson: You may have gotten away with this today, but not next time. Sheepy: Holmes: If looks could kill, you'd have brutally murdered me. Arsé-kun: Watson: Cool. Sheepy: Holmes: Could it be... You were looking forward to tormenting me? Arsé-kun: Watson: What, me? Nooo. Sheepy: Holmes:...And yet, I find myself doubting you. Arsé-kun: Watson: It isn't as if you'd not learn otherwise. Sheepy: Holmes: I do learn from my mistakes. Arsé-kun: Watson: Then let me show u what happens when you don't. Sheepy: Holmes: Eh? Sheepy: Holmes: You look quite scary right now! Arsé-kun: Watson: Then that's your final warning. *he gives a hefty sigh* Sheepy: Holmes: Final... warning... Only one? Arsé-kun: Watson: .... Only? Sheepy: Holmes: Yes. Arsé-kun: Watson: You wish it was only one. Now moving on. Sheepy: Holmes: Ahaha... Arsé-kun: Raph: What's this, bad vibes club? Lighten up! Sheepy: Il: Speaking of bad vibes, Holmes has very bad vibes right now. Arsé-kun: Watson: Yes, I agree entirely. Sheepy: Il: Is it really him? Sheepy: Holmes:?...Of course. Arsé-kun: Watson: It is. There's other things happening. Sheepy: Il: I see... How complicated. I was concerned that something bad was happening. Sheepy: Il: By the way... Sheepy: Il:...What constitutes a crime? Arsé-kun: Raph: whatd you do now Sheepy: Il: By the way... Sheepy: Il:...What constitutes a crime? Arsé-kun: Raph: whatd you do now Sheepy: Holmes: Did you break it? Sheepy: Il: I can't tell you that. Arsé-kun: Raph: I mean, you could. Sheepy: Il: If I said it wasn't me, I'd be lying, and if I said it was, I'd be guilty of breaking rules. Sheepy: Il:...?! Arsé-kun: Raph: Well, thank you for telling us this much at least. Was it on purpose? Sheepy: Il: No. Arsé-kun: Watson: That removes most crimes off the list. Sheepy: Il: I broke it while in the kitchen. Arsé-kun: Watson: Ah. So you caused the broken glass. Sheepy: Il: I know I'm not supposed to be there, but I wanted to make something for the meeting tonight. Sheepy: Il: I thought if I just thought about cooking, I could make something. Arsé-kun: Raph: Well, thanks for telling us. One of us can go clean it up for you. Arsé-kun: *raph makes no effort to move* Sheepy: Holmes: One of us... Arsé-kun: Raph: You're injured, you're not doing it. Sheepy: Holmes:...Ah, too bad! Arsé-kun: *Watson looks mildly annoyed by this chain of events* Sheepy: Il: I left it where it was. It should still be there. Sheepy: Holmes: Tonight... that's when that group of delinquents meet. Arsé-kun: Raph: Oh, those kids? I'm pretty sure it's a secret baking club. Sheepy: Holmes: I'm not sure about that. Some can't even bake. Arsé-kun: Raph: The club leader can. You gotta start from the bottom! Sheepy: Holmes: Well, yes. Maybe he's testing his recipes on them. Arsé-kun: Raph: There hasn't been any poisonings outside of whatever the heck was recently. Sheepy: Holmes: Not in a poisoning sense. Sheepy: Holmes: As potential products to sell. Sheepy: Holmes: I think it's a club for people who feel like outcasts but hide behind a tough persona. Arsé-kun: Raph: Dang, okay, just out them like this in public! Sheepy: Holmes: Well, that's just a theory of mine. I suppose spouting theories without proof is wrong of me. Sheepy: Holmes: I don't doubt that there's a criminal aspect associated with it. However... If you think about it, it's actually incredibly convenient. By having such a group, I can watch over would-be delinquents to stop them in their tracks. Arsé-kun: Raph: This could still breach confidentiality, but yeah, I guess so. Sheepy: Holmes: These are just my suspicions. I don't think I'm breaching anything right now. Arsé-kun: Raph: Not yet, but be careful anyway. Sheepy: Holmes: I will be. Sheepy: Il: Confidential... So telling Misyr everything I've seen is bad? Arsé-kun: Raph: That is different. Sheepy: Il:...?.... Sheepy: Il:............ *Please wait, system processing* Sheepy: Il: Error. No difference found. Sheepy: Holmes: Don't worry about it. Arsé-kun: Raph: You would be giving your personal experiences. Holmes going off about the possible psychology of these people could publicly reveal medical information. Sheepy: Holmes: Ahahaha. Sheepy: Holmes: I do see how that could be an issue. Sheepy: Il: So medical information is a secret. Arsé-kun: Raph: Doctors are not allowed to talk about a patient's information, I have told you this. Sheepy: Il: But Holmes isn't a doctor so he can talk about anything he pleases. Right? Sheepy: Holmes: This logic feels flawed somehow. Sheepy: Il: That's why he works with Watson. Watson tells him the information and he reveals it. Sheepy: Holmes: No, no, that's not true at all! Arsé-kun: Raph: Watson isn't permitted unless it is related to a case, and even then. Arsé-kun: Raph: Some snippets might be okay, like "Lucan gets sick easily", or "Okita has a lung problem", but nothing detailed. Sheepy: Il: I see.... Sheepy: *Later in the day... the time has finally come! It's time for delinquency!* Sheepy: Agravain: ...You'll find that the members are incredibly similar to you. Arsé-kun: Lance: But why now...? Like this...? Sheepy: Agravain: Because you have few friends and it makes me feel bitterness deep within me knowing someone has less friends than me. Arsé-kun: *Lance is puzzled* Sheepy: Agravain:...It's a joke. Arsé-kun: Lance: Oh... Sheepy: Agravain: Anyway, if you work hard enough, even you can make friends with them. This is not a difficult task. Sheepy: Agravain: ...Here it is. Sheepy: *Agravain opens the door to the club room.* Arsé-kun: *Someone's swinging on a punching bag like a wrecking ball from that one music video. you know the one* Sheepy: Agravain:....Ah. That's a great start. Arsé-kun: the idiot: Maybe I want to! Mind your ps and beeswax or I'll wrecking ball you next! Sheepy: Agravain: You want something broken? I can break it, free of charge. Arsé-kun: the idiot: Oh no! Clover, Aggy's gonna break me again! Sheepy: Clover: Agravain. Don't break Pink again. It lowers club morale. Sheepy: Agravain: I brought a new member. Finish your messing around to greet him properly, Pink. Arsé-kun: Pink: Oh? Oh? Oh-woah? You did! You really did! First dibs on fistfighting! Sheepy: Guin: Wrong. I've already claimed dibs on his head. Arsé-kun: Lance: ...! Sheepy: Guin: I've been waiting for you! Sheepy: Guin: Is your hand better now? I was worrying about you. ... R-running away from the fight, that is...!! Arsé-kun: Lance: It's fine now. If I knew this is what this was for, I'd have shown on my own volition. Sheepy: Agravain: So you agree that it's good I dragged you here. Arsé-kun: Lance: I'll kick you for it after, but I guess. Sheepy: Agravain: You punish me for my good deeds? Arsé-kun: Lance: You haven't let me go. Sheepy: Agravain: *he lets go* Sheepy: Guin: Well...! I'm happy you decided to approach me. ..For a fight, that is... because was I growing bored...! Arsé-kun: *Lance moves away from Aggy and does a quick stretch before getting into stance. He's got no comebacks, only fight* Sheepy: *Guin stands up from her seat and approaches Lance, getting into a fighting stance.* Arsé-kun: Pink: Fight, fight, fight! Sheepy: Clover: Just don't break anything. Remember that we're borrowing this room. Sheepy: *The two fight!* Arsé-kun: *for the record, take TF2's sawmill and change the aesthetic to animal crossing's steel-frame wall. remove the sawblades and add punching bag hanging from the ceiling by a chain. who knows what this room is used for NORMALLY.* Sheepy: *Maybe storage?* Arsé-kun: *maybe a mechanic garage?* Sheepy: *maybe!* Arsé-kun: *Unfortunately for Guin, Lance wins!* Sheepy: Guin: *huff, huff...* ...You're much stronger than I expected...! You were really that determined to ask me out, huh? Arsé-kun: Lance: Eh?! *he nearly throws himself off of her in a brief moment of panic* That's not... That wasn't why..! It's a motivator but not...!! Sheepy: Guin: Eh? That isn't it? Arsé-kun: Lance: I mean, maybe sort of?? But it wasn't the initial plan..! I just wanted to throw down! Arsé-kun: *Lance looks flustered still* Sheepy: Guin: Really... is that so... Well, that makes me happy to hear, at least. Arsé-kun: Lance: ... Agravain, get me a shovel so I can dig my own grave from the hole I'm in. Sheepy: Guin:....But it's not like I was hoping a little you'd win, just for that. Arsé-kun: Lance: ..... And it's not like I ever said "no" either, but.... Sheepy: Agravain: This is a disaster. Arsé-kun: Pink: Enemies to lovers 50k inktober prompt! Sheepy: Guin: W-we aren't enemies!! Sheepy: Guin: Just because I knocked his friend to the floor doesn't make us enemies... I think. I hope. Arsé-kun: Lance: He deserved that. Arsé-kun: Pink: That's what was wrong with what I said...? :v Sheepy: Guin:?! Sheepy: Guin: I-I never said that! He hasn't asked, so you can't immediately assume...!! Arsé-kun: Pink: What are YOU talking about?? Sheepy: Guin: The "lovers" part! Arsé-kun: Mngwa: *she's up on a railing, and has been this whole time* This is a fucking dumpster fire! Sheepy: Agravain: You waste my precious time telling me about your crush on this disaster of a human being only to make me watch you ruin everything when a golden opportunity is dumped in your lap? Arsé-kun: Mngwa: Go for it, you big titty bimbo! Sheepy: Guin: !!! Sheepy: Guin:...I may or may not have been waiting for you to approach me! Arsé-kun: Lance: ... For the fight? *brief pause* ... You mean to ask me out?? Sheepy: Guin: And... uh... Well, IF you were to ask...! I'd say yes. B-but only because you really impressed me. Sheepy: Agravain: And what about what you told me about him being "cute"? You made me sit through that drivel for nothing? Sheepy: Guin: Agravain!! You're the worst! Arsé-kun: Lance: He's good at that..! *he's grateful for the brief subject change* Sheepy: Il: I've always wanted to experience a scene like this for real. Sheepy: Il: In one game, Sherlock Holmes does this to the protag... It was really romantic. Arsé-kun: Ignis: Does what, being awkward and stupid in front of a girl? That sounds legit. Sheepy: Il: The classic floor pin and then getting flustered about it! Although, Holmes only did the first part, really. The heroine was the flustered one. Arsé-kun: Lance: please tell me this isnt about the one we know Sheepy: Il: Huh? You did not know about the large collection of content written about him? Arsé-kun: Lance: Okay, good, it isn't. Sheepy: Il: A mysterious detective who can solve things using the tiniest, most insignificant detail... There are many otome games about him! Sheepy: Il: You can date Watson occasionally, but Holmes tends to show up more. Ah... but my favorite is none other than...! Arsé-kun: Ignis: Code-goddamn-Realize, we know. Sheepy: Il: Arsene Lupin! He is the epitome of love!! Arsé-kun: Ignis: Here he goes again Sheepy: Il: You should play it, Ignis. I think you would like Van Helsing. Arsé-kun: Ignis: As if. As if I'd play some.... girly love game, just for you. Sheepy: Il: Anyone can play otome games. Even you! Arsé-kun: Ignis: I was blessed with the ability to read and you want me to use it on this?? Sheepy: Il: Otome games have taught me all about complicated feelings such as love and grief. Sheepy: Guin: Yes? Arsé-kun: Lance: ... So you will? Sheepy: Guin: Uh... y-yeah, if you will!! Arsé-kun: Lance: If you will, then I will..! Sheepy: Guin: Great!! Arsé-kun: Lance: Cool okay! Arsé-kun: Pink: This is our good deed for today! Club's over, let's buy anime and watch... food, wait no Sheepy: Clover: Food? I did procure some of... unknown origins. Arsé-kun: Pink: So is it from your kitchen this time, or Aggy's? Sheepy: Clover:...Mine. Arsé-kun: Pink: Yeaaaaaaaaaaaaah, Clover pastries! Sheepy: Agravain: I have to deep clean my kitchen before it can be used again. Arsé-kun: Lance: Right, because of the... Whatever Grif called it. Sheepy: Agravain: I wouldn't know. Sheepy: Holmes: You know, Dr. Griffin, the group would accept you with open arms if you would actually wear clothes. Sheepy: *Holmes comes out of his hiding spot.* Arsé-kun: *Lance screams. classy* Sheepy: Holmes: You didn't notice me? Arsé-kun: Lance: No?! I'm clearly busy?! Wh-why are you here?! Shoo! Sheepy: Clover: He's a regular guest. He may as well be a member. Arsé-kun: Dr. Jack Griffin?: *from... somewhere?* Do you still think I'm unclothed?! Do you want to get stabbed for fun?! Sheepy: Holmes: Can you prove you aren't? Arsé-kun: Lance: *dying inside and outside* why this Arsé-kun: Jack: I can prove you're made of stabbable flesh! Does that count? Sheepy: Holmes: Oh, I already proved that today. *he gestures to his injured arm* As you can see. Sheepy: Holmes: I could, however, use the same culprit to reveal the truth behind your claims. Arsé-kun: Jack: You actually got stabbed?? Arsé-kun: Lance: .... *not wanting to interrupt* Dr. Griffin...? What's he doing here? Sheepy: Holmes: By many teeth, yes. Lobo bit me. Sheepy: Clover:...He, too, is a common guest. Arsé-kun: Ignis: Lobo bit you? You must've deserved it for being stupid! Sheepy: Holmes: Hmmm... I will only say that I wasn't entirely responsible. Arsé-kun: *Jack has realized he can be tracked by sound and has wisely shut up* Sheepy: Il: I decided that anything you lost would grow back. Sheepy: Holmes: I really don't think it would...! Arsé-kun: Mngwa: Okay, I got the doc Jack locator this time! Where am I shooting first?? *she's got a nerf gun. one with a bigass clip of suction darts.* Sheepy: *Holmes uses his good arm to point to Jack* Sheepy: Holmes: There he is. Sheepy: Il: I have seen otome games with invisible men before, but they are weirdly... visible. Sheepy: Il: However... I have always wanted to ask... Dr. Griffin, what causes you to want to be unseen? A fear of being judged? Thirst for control? Wanting to be unique? I want to understand. Arsé-kun: Jack: Drugs! *he gets shot with several nerf darts. most of them stick.* Do you mind?! I'm talking here! Sheepy: Il:...? Drugs make you want to be invisible? Arsé-kun: Jack: Don't do drugs, stay in school, commit a murder, look both ways before crossing the street Sheepy: Il: I have heard that sometimes cars ignore traffic laws without a single care for the passerbys. Arsé-kun: Jack: I hate cars! People can't goddamn drive! Sheepy: Il: Can you drive? Arsé-kun: Jack: Yes, but I'm not allowed because I'm a "liability" and "scare other drivers"! Sheepy: Il: I want to go to an otome cafe one day. Can you drive me to one? They're in Japan. That is not too far away, is it? Arsé-kun: Jack: dumb blond, that needs a boat Sheepy: Il: Truly...?! Ah, I might as well just go there myself at that point, but Misyr told me not to fly around people because it will scare them... Sheepy: Il: I would have to bring someone, too... ...Ignis, Ignis! Let's go there one day!! Arsé-kun: Ignis: do it your damn self Sheepy: Il: Eh?! Arsé-kun: Ignis: I can't just keep doing things for you! Sheepy: Il: But, but...! I am banned from going out by myself, because apparently I am a "danger to society"! Arsé-kun: Ignis: Okay, fine!! We'll go during winter break! Okay?! Sheepy: Il: Wonderful! Sheepy: Holmes: By the way, Dr. Griffin. You aren't supposed to be here, are you? Arsé-kun: Jack: This ain't my room, is it? What do you think? Arsé-kun: Jack: May as well keep me in a padded cell! Sheepy: Holmes: There's no need for that as long as you don't hurt anyone. Arsé-kun: Jack: That'll last about..... ten minutes. Sheepy: Holmes: If you plan to cause anyone damage, you'll need to be escorted home. Arsé-kun: Jack: Maybe I want to pull someone's chair out from beneath them! Maybe murder! Maybe not! Haven't decided yet! Sheepy: Holmes: Murder is strictly forbidden. Arsé-kun: Jack: Shhhhut up and give me your eyeballs, you'll be losing sight priv Sheepy: Holmes: Unfortunately, I need them. Sheepy: Holmes: You won't be having them. Sheepy: Il: I played a horror game once where a doctor would steal people's eyes to find the perfect replacement for his missing one. Arsé-kun: Jack: ... But if I had yours, I might be seen more! So gimme! Sheepy: Il: Despite the name, there were no angels to be seen. Arsé-kun: Ignis: That's fucked up Sheepy: Holmes: No. Grow your own. Arsé-kun: Jack: What. Sheepy: Holmes: What? Arsé-kun: Jack: What do you know that I don't?! Sheepy: Holmes: The time for that answer.... Sheepy: Holmes:...is not now! Arsé-kun: *Holmes gets several nerf darts thrown at him* Sheepy: Holmes: Ahahahahaha! Sheepy: Il: I was hoping to learn more about how humans viewed angels. Arsé-kun: *Lance is dying inside from a combination of Too Much Attention, Hot Girl, Processing Previous Events, and The Detective Being A Shithead.* Sheepy: Il: Anyway, I can easily grow back my own. Sheepy: Il: Are you unable to, Dr. Griffin? Arsé-kun: Jack: I'm not crazy enough to test THAT! Sheepy: Il: ?..... Arsé-kun: Jack: But for you I don't have to..! Sheepy: Il: Why? Because you know already? Arsé-kun: Ignis: Shut UP, Il! You're so oblivious! Sheepy: Il:? Arsé-kun: *Ignis moves to block Il from where Jack was last "seen". I hate english* Sheepy: Il: Was it a threat? Should I be afraid? Arsé-kun: Ignis: What part of having your eyes removed ISN'T a threat?! Sheepy: Il:....? I would be unaffected. Sheepy: Il: So I am to defend myself... Arsé-kun: Ignis: But no nukes! Sheepy: Il: I am banned from nuking and singing. Arsé-kun: Ignis: Then go gettem, tiger! Arsé-kun: *Ignis moves to behind Il for his own wellbeing* Sheepy: Il: *he reveals his wings. il that is banned and you know better* ...Searching... Sheepy: *Il uses his magic to search the area for Jack!* Arsé-kun: *ignis did get smacked in the face by said wings. i dont know what he expected* Arsé-kun: *Okay, now what Il?* Sheepy: Il: Enemy spotted. *he slowly lifts up his arm before launching a golden chain at Jack, with the intent to bind him* Arsé-kun: *Il's chains grabbed onto something unseen! So yeah, he got Jack pretty easily. Hole in one.* Arsé-kun: Jack: This is definitely some form of kinky! Sheepy: Il:........*he tilts his head some*.........Error: Meaning not found. Sheepy: Holmes: Okay, Jack, let's bring you back home. Arsé-kun: Jack: That isn't my home. That's crazy people jail! Sheepy: Holmes: Well, you could go home if you stopped trying to gouge people's eyes out and murder them. Arsé-kun: Jack: Where's the fun in that?! Sheepy: Holmes: Do you have more fun being banned from going out? Sheepy: Il: If you are lonely, Dr. Griffin, I could be your friend. Arsé-kun: Mngwa: motherfucker he just tried to blind you Sheepy: Il: ......But maybe he's still nice inside? Sheepy: Holmes: I doubt that. Sheepy: *Holmes grabs Jack with his good arm and starts dragging him away* Sheepy: ?: *He has his feet on the table and his mind on his phone, which he's been playing with most of the time. He looks like he just walked out of a visual kei band meeting...* You had to deal with both Hummus and that invisible creep on thr first day? That's rough. Arsé-kun: Lance: I knew the detective already, but... Not the other guy. Sheepy: Shuu: By the way, you never introduced yourself. Arsé-kun: Lance: Oh. Uh. Right. I'm Lance. Sheepy: Shuu: Huh. Well, get used to that creep, Langouste. He shows up often. Arsé-kun: Pink: We should gettem a leash! Sheepy: Shuu: At this point we need to, I feel... Arsé-kun: Pink: Who wants to walk a Jack? Shuu? You wanna do it? Maybe Tyr should? Sheepy: Shuu: Not it. We can draw straws, but I've got too much work to have that kind of responsibility. Arsé-kun: Lance: I'd prefer not to. I just got here. Sheepy: Il: I want to take a dog on a walk one day. Sheepy: Shuu: You basically are by coming here with Ignis... Sheepy: Il:....? Where's the dog? Arsé-kun: Ignis: You wanna go, Shuu?? Right now? Sheepy: Shuu: No way. I'm not going to fight you when I know I'd lose. Sheepy: Il: I guess Ignis is sort of like a dog. Sheepy: Il: But is it not the case that Ignis is walking me here, and not the other way around...? Sheepy: Shuu: Good job getting and then immediately throwing away my joke.

#c.au #5

[jafreitag]

Grateful Dead Monthly: Brendan Byrne Arena – East Rutherford, NJ 10/16/89

On Monday, October 16, 1989, the Grateful Dead played a concert at Brendan Byrne Arena in East Rutherford, New Jersey.

Brendan Byrne Arena, aka Meadowlands Arena, was built to accommodate the NBA’s New Jersey Nets, who were moving from the Rutgers University Athletic Center. The arena opened in 1981 across a highway from the old Giants Stadium, and eventually served as home for the Nets, the NHL’s New Jersey Devils, and the Seton Hall University men’s basketball team. The arena was also an event and concert venue that hosted local favorites Bruce Springsteen and Bon Jovi, as well as a variety of other big-name acts. It ultimately closed to the public in 2015. According to the Wiki, “the vacant arena is [currently] used as a rehearsal venue for large-scale touring concert productions as well as a sound stage for video and television productions.”

The Dead played Brendan Byrne sixteen times from 1983-89. 10/16/89 was their last show there. LN Deaditor ECM was in attendance and offers this reflection:

This was a special show because it was my first Dark Star, but the band sure did make me sweat it out by waiting until the final night of a five-show run to play it – on a Monday night, too! But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s back up just a bit.

The previous week, the Grateful Dead opened the 1989 Fall East Coast tour with two shows at Hampton Coliseum. Those shows were billed as “Formerly the Warlocks” (a nod to the band’s original name) because there had been some trouble at the Dead’s Hampton shows in the past with ticketless people, gate crashing, and drug arrests. As I recall, these shows were not announced on the Dead’s hotline and were not available via mail order like the rest of the tour was. Instead, tickets were made available at only a few select Virginia locations, making them very difficult to get, if you lived out of state, as I did. Somehow, my friend Scott and his wife, Noelle, scored tickets, but I didn’t know it at the time. So imagine my surprise when Scott called me at around 12:30 a.m. on Tuesday October 10th to tell me what had just gone down in Hampton. I was a year out of college and had a real job so I was sound asleep. The ringing of the phone jolted me out of bed. I fumbled to find the phone in the darkness and clumsily answered it on the sixth or seventh ring. At first, I didn’t recognize the voice on the other end of the line because the caller was hysterically screaming with excitement. Eventually, I recognized the voice as Scott’s. He was calling from his car phone (very rare at the time), and he was talking so fast that I could barely understand him. There were broken words here and there that I recognized like “Hampton…Warlocks…Oh my God…best fuckin’ show I’ve ever seen….oh shit, I’d better pull over before I get in an accident!” After he pulled over, Scott told me all about the bust-outs: Help/Slip, Death Don’t Have No Mercy (neither of us knew it had been busted out the previous week at Shoreline, no internet), Dark Star, and Attics!!! I thought he was joking at first. Help/Slip and Dark Star, while both rare, were somewhat believable since they had both been played in the 80s with Brent. Attics and Death, on the other hand, were a horse of a different color. Both hadn’t been played since 1970, and most fans considered them retired for good. I must confess that it was a little difficult to be “happy” for Scott. I had missed “the show,” or so I thought. 

The band rolled into lovely East Rutherford, New Jersey on October 11th for a five-show run at the Brendan Byrne Arena. I had secured mail order tickets for every show. There was definitely a buzz in the parking lot about what had gone down in Hampton. Everybody was hoping, praying, and wishing that the band would play some of the bust-outs again. Nobody dared to say the words “Dark Star” for fear of jinxing our chances of seeing it. The new album, Built To Last, was about to be released on Halloween, so there was great anticipation about that as well. Promo materials like the album artwork and the iconic deck of cards were floating around the parking lot. There was a sense that the band was on another creative peak which created an overall vibe of happiness and excitement among fans. 

On a more somber note, this was also the run when the body of Adam Katz, a 19-year-old fan, was found by a motorist lying on a roadway outside the complex on October 14th. He died the next day from a single blow to the head with a ”blunt instrument.” His death was later ruled a homicide, but nobody was ever charged. 

As I recall, the four shows leading up to October 16th were nothing to write home about. I am sure that there were highlights but the only memorable thing about those shows is what the band didn’t play – Dark Star.

On the afternoon of October 16th, Garcia made an appearance on WNEW-FM, New York’s big classic-rock radio station and when asked when Deadhead’s might get to enjoy the band play Dark Star again, he replied, “Sooner than you think.” Whoa! Did Jerry just signal Dark Star? If that wasn’t enough, October 16th happens to be Bob Weir’s birthday. There have been some memorable shows on October 16th – most notably Amsterdam in 1981, but also Winterland in 1974 and LSU in 1977. The planets seemed to be aligned for the makings of a great show. 

The crowd roar was deafening with great anticipation when the house lights finally went down. The birthday boy opened the show with Picasso Moon. It was a curious choice because the band only played it three times since its debut on April 28th, and it hadn’t been played since May 7th (which coincidentally happened to be another band member’s birthday – Billy K). All three of those versions were very rough (to put it charitably), and many fans assumed that the song was DOA. The band must have spent time working on it in the studio because this performance is delivered with oodles of confidence and sounds the way it would on the album and all future performances. I was never a big fan of the song because it sounded like a pimped-out version of Hell In A Bucket, but boy does this version rock! 

Next up is an upbeat Half-Step. Garcia is in fine form, and Brent’s piano is twinkling. In a surprising move, the band plays the instrumental part of the Rio Grande-O section, but skips the vocal part, making this a shorter version than usual. I’m not sure whether this was intentional or not. Garcia switches to his Mu-Tron effect, and the song kind of washes out with a brief pause of uncertainty. Maybe he realized that he forgot the vocal outro of Half-Step. Anyway, the band quickly recovers and forges right into Feel Like a Stranger, which makes for a nice transition since both songs are in the same key  It’s a great choice that keeps the energy high and perhaps signals that things will indeed “get stranger” later as Brent growls, “It’s gonna be a long, long crazy, crazy night.” Garcia gets nice and funky in the jam to create a full-on dance party in the Meadowlands.

In another rare move, Bobby gives the “blues slot” to Brent this evening who leads the band through Good Times Blues (aka Never Trust A Woman). It’s an unrecorded song that debuted on 8/28/81 and was played less than 50 times ever. It was refreshing to hear something other than Rooster, Minglewood, Walkin’ Blues, and CC Rider. The change must have invigorated the band because they completely nail this version. Brent never wasted an opportunity to shine on his own songs and his vocals and B-3 organ solo are amazing. This is a stand-out performance of a song that would be played only 4 more times!

Jerry follows with Built To Last – another new song on the upcoming album. This is a great version, however, the song would be played only two times more before being retired forever. It makes one question the wisdom of choosing to name an album after a song that would not remain in their repertoire.

Another surprise awaits as the band breaks the usual song rotation between Jerry and Bob. Tonight the birthday boy gets to sing lead vocals on the next two songs. Memphis Blues Again fills the “Dylan slot” nicely. Bobby is all over this version with lots of exaggerated vocals. I love how versatile Brent is with his solo on Memphis Blues. Sometimes he uses his electric keyboard, sometimes he selects a MIDI sound, and other times, like this evening, he plays his B-3 organ. As soon as the band plays the last note, Bobby begins strumming the chords to Let It Grow. This is an exquisite performance. The “rise and fall” section is particularly gnarly with Garcia effortlessly switching his sounds and getting some nice guitar runs in. 

“Let it Grow” was typically a first-set closer during this era, but the band gives us a bonus song with Deal. 1989 was a very good year for Deal, as exemplified by the versions on 6/21 (Shoreline), 7/19 (Alpine) and 7/4 (Buffalo), all of which fall within the top 10 rankings on the website, headyversion.com with the latter ranking #1 and #2 respectively. Tonight’s version doesn’t quite reach those amazing heights but still holds a respectable #12 rank, which is to say that it is quite the barn burner. With their jam chops sufficiently warmed-up, Bobby announces a break. What a great first set filled with jams, uptempo songs, and rarities.

The air was thick with anticipation when the band returned for the second set as everybody held their collective breath hoping…wishing…praying…for “IT.” Things got eerily quiet and then Jery played the first signature notes of Dark Star. The New York audience explodes with joy. Smiles, high-fives and hugs abounded everywhere. Euphoria. This starts out as a very melodic Star that doesn’t really stray from the usual pre-first verse theme. The first verse comes after about six minutes. Jerry’s voice sounds a little rough but the spirit is clearly there. The post-lyrics jam continues with the melodic theme but starts to show signs of weirdness at around the 9 1/2 minute mark. If you listen carefully you can hear Jerry switch the key signature from A to D to set up the transition into Playing In The Band. He blasts off some rapid, spacey runs at around the 11 minute mark, which land on the introduction of Playing. Now it becomes clear that the band is treating us to a set that is similar to Hampton, except in a different sequence. 

At 8 minutes, this is a relatively short Playing, but the band flexes its spacey muscles very concisely. Here, Jerry explores his MIDI library more than he did in Dark Star. I especially love his use of the pan flute at the 3:40 minute mark. So trippy!! The jam becomes melodic again as Jerry leads the way into a super-kind Uncle John’s Band. This is a very upbeat version with strong vocals by everybody. The D-minor jams in the middle and end of the song are spectacular – more cerebral than rocking. Garcia briefly re-states the Playing theme, and then goes off into the cosmos of deeper and deeper space until finally there is nowhere else to go except surrender the stage to the dummers, where we were treated to the Beam.

I must admit that hearing the opening strains of I Will Take You Home was disappointing because it did not seem to fit with the spacey theme the band created. But, once again, Brent puts on a stellar performance, which is accompanied by the lovely accents of Jerry’s MIDI french horn.  Brent holds the last line, “I willllllllllllll….take you home.” This is followed by a swell of feedback out of which Bobby slams into I Need A Miracle. The loud, thrashing music is jarring and at odds with the overall vibe of the set thus far. It is perhaps the only possible misstep of the entire evening, but thankfully it is short and leads back into a reprise of Dark Star, which at this point feels like “home base.” All is quickly forgiven. Jerry stays on the melodic theme for almost four minutes of blissful serenity before delivering the second verse. A few descending notes later Jerry starts Attics of My Life. These two magical songs were combined only once before – the famous Capitol Theater show on 6/24/70!!! What a treat! This was the first time most of us had heard a live performance of Attics, and the audience stood in almost complete silence hanging on every lyric. This was church!!! The band delivers the lyrics tenderly like a fragile prayer, and the all-important harmonies are gorgeously sung. 

The show could have ended right there as far as I was concerned but the band cleverly segues into Playing to complete the reprise the same way they did with Dark Star. First there was chaos in the universe, and now there is symmetry. Damn, this band is good. 

Jerry, Bob, Phil and Brent returned without instruments to end this epically throw-back show the only way possible – with a gospel-infused version of And We Bid You Goodnight. It remains one of the most memorable shows I have ever seen.

10/16/89 was memorialized as the live album Nightfall of Diamonds. Here’s the Spotify widget.

More soon.

JF

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#IFTTT #WordPress

[ghost-town-story]

... The more I sit here and am allowed to think, the more pissed off and upset I get

Rant blog status reinstated!

So firstly, I’m not happy about getting kicked off campus. But social distancing shit, whatever I guess, whatcha gonna do. 

But no. My fucking mother takes the goddamned fucking cake rn. 

We got the email about being kicked off around 4 pm eastern time, Monday. My mother. This fucking woman. Calls me and insists I pack my stuff and get off campus by Tuesday morning. Packing is normally at least a few days ordeal, especially since I hate packing and it always stresses me out a bunch. But done in little spurts, okay I guess, more doable. 

But noooo I have to get out by Tuesday. Fucking. Morning. And this woman actually has the gall, the fucking gall to halfheartedly suggest I start out Monday evening since I’ve gone nocturnal. 

I tried to tell her there’s no fucking way, but she wouldn’t fucking listen. So she hangs up, and I go down the hall bc I desperately need a hug by this point, and she’s a sweetheart but the only roommate available is a gangly skinny girl and not the type of hugs I need. (really, boyfriend would be ideal, but at the time he was in Colorado visiting his sister). And I end up breaking down on huggin friend’s couch bc I hate packing, and I don’t feel like I can pack up a year’s worth of shit in about 12 hours. 

Mom eventually calls me again, mostly just to tell me “yeah you need to pack up and get back tonight, your roommate can grab the 1-2 bins remaining.” And she refuses to listen to me saying “hey, it’s a solid 2 loads in my car, it’s not gonna be 1-2 bins”  “But it fit all in your first car!” “My first car was a fuckin beast, literally the largest car in the lot freshman year. Fred is definitely shorter, definitely less trunk space, etc.”  “Well Y can get the last few bins.” “It’s a lot of stuff!” “It won’t be that much” JUST FUCKING LISTEN YOU PIECE OF SHIT FFS

I was so stressed and crying that huggin friend stole my phone when I was texting my boyfriend, and had him call me so I could maybe stop crying. I miss my boy. Hearing him was good tho.

I’m packing up my stuff in the bathroom when I remember. I store my empty bins at my brother’s place (2 hrs north). I double check with him and call my mom back “I can’t leave tomorrow. It’s too much to pack, and some of my bins are at Brother’s.”  Despite all this, despite me literally breaking down and crying on the phone, she refuses to listen, to give me an extra day, to bring half my stuff up to my brother’s (and therefore eliminate most of the need to have my roommate take my stuff) and grab my extra bins. Nope, gotta get out.

I was staring at my room, halfheartedly packing and trying to figure out, and just sobbing out loud. I thought remaining roommate was gone at dinner, otherwise I would have tried to be quiet. But she had gotten back without me noticing, and when she poked her head in, I couldn’t do it anymore and just kinda. Fell to the ground crying and apologizing. She’s a such a sweetheart and I feel bad for probably worrying her (and possibly waking her up in the middle of the night with packing noises)

I texted my roommate about this. She basically said, “Wtf, what she’s asking isn’t possible.”

Same thing from my boyfriend. 

My mom kept texting me, asking how things were going, basically ignoring my subtle requests for more fucking time. At one point she said “Hang in there”. I sent a screenshot of that to my roommate and boyfriend and asked, “Is murder acceptable?” Roommate said a solid yes. Boyfriend offered to let me live with him. (cept 2 hour parking and I already got one ticket from that :P)

Mom texted around 10 pm, asking if things were fitting in the car. I wasn’t even remotely to the point of packing the car. I was basically at break number 2 of mandatory “sit down, have something to eat, and rehydrate after crying so damn much”. I think I had one bin completely done (out of what ended up being like. 6 bins? plus assorted bags n stuff) and was mostly done packing my clothes, but like. slow going. Especially when packing is stressful and you keep getting overwhelmed woot woot

I put off a fair number of things bc of panicking about time and simple emotional capability to do so. Sorting out my dishes, unlofting my bed, grabbing my band shit from the music hall across campus.

At some point in the night, I had to lay down, because my body decided “hey, you know what would be great right now? Period cramps, minus the blood.” Which, thank fuck minus the blood, but also it meant I had to spend a solid half hour/hour out of commission bc it hurt so damn much to walk around and try to pack. But I had to keep going, even though the pain came back when I stood up again.  

Mom texted me at 7 am if I’m awake. I hadn’t slept. 

We have housekeepers, and they got there around when I was finishing loading up. I stopped and chatted for a bit (nobody had told them what was going on), and nearly started crying again because it was just so damn shitty. Everything’s so damn shitty. 

So I got on the road at about 8 am, and get to driving for a bit, but about 1.5 hours in I’m doing bad. I can barely keep focused, despite drinking probably half a bottle of Mt. Dew by this point, so I pull into a rest stop and text my mom “Hey, I forgot my shampoo/conditioner/toothbrush stuff, and also I don’t think I can get home safe.”

Does my mother tell me to take a nap in that rest stop? Nope Does she tell me to find a hotel or motel there and take a nap/sleep and try again tomorrow? Nope Does she tell me I can go back to school, sleep through the day, and try again tomorrow? Ha ha fucking ha.

Nope. She calls me, and proceeds to tell me to keep driving, and that she’s going to stay on the phone with me so I don’t fall asleep. 

I yelled at her quite a few times, when she was being fucking stupid about all this shit. She had the fucking gall to be pissed that I pulled an all nighter, when that’s what was fucking necessary to meet her stupid fucking deadline. 

At one point, I made a new driving playlist so hopefully it would keep me awake better while I wasn’t on the phone (being serenaded... awake? by the lovely voice of Tilian lel (lots of DGD and his solo work on that playlist. Also ATL. Fuck yeah ATL. anywho)). And right after I made that, she ended up calling me before I was driving yet, and I rejected it bc I really wanted to finish my text to the dear bf, and then I started driving, thinking she’d call me back and chew me out for ignoring her, but surprisingly nope. So I just jam out for a bit, and eventually start yelling at myself bc of dumb writing ideas (the original story rewrite... lol) and I end up texting my roommate (while driving... shh) “Hey, feel free to call me if you want to hear me ramble on about writing” So after a short phone call from mum where she hung up to let me drive through a city, roommate calls, and I end up spending the last few hours of my drive rambling at her and mutually bitching about the shitty situation this leaves us in. 

When I get home, my dad (a doctor) is wearing a mask, apparently at my mother’s request. He also mentions that we probably shouldn’t be in the same room, according to her. I am also forced to strip everything and shower basically immediately. K, fine, I do so, Dad makes me dinner (despite Mom’s probable disapproval), and I stay awake just long enough to toss my laundry in the dryer. It was a close thing tho. I nearly fell asleep waiting for the washer to finish. And so I pass out at 8 pm central time (9 pm eastern)

Mom, during all this, has fucked off Up North to our cabin, my final destination.

Wednesday, Mom makes me leave our place in the Cities at 11 am to get up before weather gets worse and all that jazz. Once here, I’m allowed freedom for as long as it takes to help mother move shit so I can fit my car inside a garage, then I take the bare minimum inside (my electronics, stuff that would explode if frozen (like pop (and my Smirnoff Ices shh)), travel toothbrush I somehow have and hairbrush), and I’m immediately quarantined to my room and the bathroom down the hall. 

So here I fucking am. Bored as shit and pissed the hell off

I needed more time. But no fucking way Mom was going to let that happen. 

I could have gone up to my brother’s. But noooo I had to come all the fucking way home, only to be shoved in a room for two weeks.

I could have taken care of all/most of my shit by my fucking self (dishes are debatable, would need basically the whole apartment to sort those out), but nope, can’t take enough time to take a trip up to my brother’s apartment 2 hours away, no way.

Nope, instead I have to suffer a panic attack for basically 16 hours, then nearly kill myself driving, because I can’t stay one fucking day more, because I have to get my ass up here just to be basically shoved in a room and left alone for 2 goddamned weeks. Nope. Can’t fucking make sure that moving out, usually stressful on its own, is as calm as we can make it in these trying times. Nope. Gotta just fucking nearly kill the kiddo instead to comply with my stupid whims because I can’t fucking listen

I’m pissed.

Especially since I was almost 100% sure I was gonna block her everywhere and go full no contact with this bitch after college.

But now I’m stuck here for the foreseeable future! Yay! Can’t see that going badly! 

(I’ve already texted the anonymemers to call me so I don’t go crazy and actually punch her. We’ll see how that goes. The desire has been kinda strong all afternoon.)

Fuck

This

Shit

#rant blog status: reinstated

[ohyeahdemvballz-blog]

Hello! How is Japan? :D can I request Kuroo, Futakuchi and Iwaizumi falling for their friend with benefit and confessing to them? Like a little angsty scenario that ends in fluff maybe? (Anon is right, your writing has improved a lot! *proud nodding*)

Omg I hate myself bc this is so fuckin old, also I remember when you sent this anon; I was having a fantastic time. Thank you.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Kuroo: He didn’t know why but after every session he felt so empty watching you leave, he felt like he could’ve said something more or he could’ve touched you more tenderly. But then he remembered that you both were only in it for the sex. Tetsurou could feel himself falling, hard. Maybe it’s the jokes you’d pop whenever you would see him in public or before you left, he wasn’t sure what it was but he sensed there was more to you than just lust. A couple weeks after his realisation that he liked you as more than a “friend” he noticed you were getting a little too close to one of your classmates, it’s agitated him so much and he hated it because he knew it would weird you out. During break he watched you converse with the unwanted boy, he couldn’t take it anymore; that guy looked so plain and he didn’t even seem that funny, and you were so beautiful and undeserving of that guy. It’s not like the captain thought he was any better, but he knew you could do better than the other male. He stood silently and walked towards you, he pulled you out of your seat and dragged you to his locker. “(Name)… I-I” his heart was beating so fat he thought it was gonna explode.“What the fuck Kuroo?”“What?”“Why’d you just pull me out of my conversation like that?!”“Because you were getting too close to that guy! You could do so much better, (name)!”“Oh, so apparently you know what’s good for me huh?! Stop acting like my boyfriend!” Your tone was filled with so much anger and relent it made his heart sink. “Well maybe I wouldn’t have to act if you’d just listen to what I wanna say!” His face bloomed a violent red at the realisation of what he’d just said. You grew mute and gulped. “W-what?” The man in front of you took a deep breath to calm himself down. “I- I wanna be more to you than just a fuck buddy… I wanna mean something to you. I really like you, (name).” “You must be insane, are you okay? Was something put in your food?” He laughed that stupid laugh you secretly loved. “You’re really cute y'know that?”

Futakuchi:It was pretty well known that Date Tech’s new captain slept around, you were one of the people who he slept with. You were his “favourite” or so he said a few weeks ago; he regretted saying that, it probably let you on to his feelings. But why would you ever like a fuckboy like him? This thought was constantly ran through Kenji’s head. He really wished he hadn’t had these feelings, he rarely gets them and when he does they destroy him. But you were just so amazing to him, you everything he could’ve ever wanted in a significant other; you knew him well, your humour matched his, you were smart. He really wondered what stopped him from asking you to just date him the moment he met you. The brunette started seeing you more and stopped seeing pretty much everyone else he was sleeping with, he was gonna show you that you meant more to him than just sex. A couple months after he started to only see you he decided to speed things up, you hadn’t noticed his extra efforts to show that he was capable of loyalty; or so he thought. You had just had a session at your house, you followed the male down the stairs and to your front door. Before exiting he pulled your form close to his, he kissed your lips softly; that’s weird you thought to yourself, you brushed it off as a moment of witlessness. But what he would say next will make you think differently. “I think I like you”. Your face looked as if you’d been in the sun for 5 years you were so red, you broke into a cold sweat and you thought your head would explode. In a panic you pushed him out the door and locked it. He stood outside, eyes wide, worry beginning to envelop his mind. “(Name)! Fuck! I’m so stupid!” You couldn’t see him but you could only imagine the look on his face, the pain and anger he was feeling at the time. You opened the door, your eyes looking downward; the sight of you calmed the boy down. “I… Really… Likeyoutooseeyouatschool” you spoke so fast Kenji needed to confirm that what he just heard was right, before you could fully close the door he slipped his foot in front of it. “So… If what I just heard was right, do you wanna go on a date?” You nodded, but that wasn’t good enough. “Is that a yes or a no?” He asked sarcastically. All he earned was a slight giggle from you and a slap on the arm.

Iwaizumi:It was strange to Hajime, that he was able to just meet up with you every once in a while for a quick fuck. He was always so passionate about everything he did and he always seemed so committed and loyal, so how could he just…do this? Well, he couldn’t. He should have known in the first place and he hated himself for being so dumb. You felt the same way but seijou’s ace didn’t think that. He realised his feelings for you a few months ago, he noticed that you also have a cuter, intellectual side to you. Iwaizumi wasn’t sure what to do at first, he never even thought about your feelings; he was just worried about how pathetic you thought he’d be to gain feelings from a sexual relationship. Over the months he started to see you less, maybe avoiding you would lessen his desire? Unfortunately you thought you should pursue your desire, to you it felt as if you were chasing your own tail; you’d never catch it. Eventually you gave up trying to be nicer and being softer toward him in general, you decided to confront him. He noticed your silhouette standing outside the gym, the afternoon sun blazing in the background; he knew something was about to happen and he wasn’t sure if he should be nervous or happy. You both waited for the rest of the team to leave before Iwaizumi walked outside to see why you had seemed him out like this. As he approached you his green eyes met yours with an icy stare, making you query whether or not you should really tell him how you feel. “What are you doing here?” His tone was course and gruff; you felt if you told him how you felt he’d reject you in the meanest way possible. You took a deep breath and gulped nervously, “I, um. I…. Really like you” you could barely get a word in before you started to break down from the pressure, your voice cracked and tears started to stream down your face. “If you don’t feel the same way I understand, you probably don’t. I’ll just go now” you turned around and started running as fast as you could, but you were easily stopped by the man behind you. His strong grip on your wrist made you wince from the sudden pain, he let go once he noticed how hard he was squeezing you. You turned to face him, sobbing and gasping for air. His expression softened at the sight of you being so helpless, so vulnerable. Hajime’s arms suddenly engulfed you, “I’m so sorry, I’m so fucking stupid I didn’t even think about you or your feelings. Fuck, please forgive me. I think I might be in love with you, I don’t know; I just thought maybe if I ignored you it’d be better for both of us”. Your eyes widened at the word “love”, you pushed yourself out of the hug. You took his hands into yours and stared down at them contently. The sight of your happy face was enough to assure him that everything was going to be okay now.

#haikyuu!! #kuroo testurou #kuroo tetsurō #futakuchi keiji #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu scenario #HQ scenarios

[madqueenalanna]

For Science, Of Course

Pairing: Jeremy Dooley/Reader Rating: E for sex Word count: 2,750 Summary: Jeremy accidentally hints that he has a big dick. You’re determined to figure out the truth. For science, of course. Read: HERE on AO3 or below the cut

Normally you liked to think of yourself as a pretty in-control person. Sure, you had your moments of hedonism like everyone else (and come on, sometimes self-love involves a pint of Ben & Jerry’s and a Netflix queue) but nothing really wild.

But you worked in an office seemingly staffed with the most beautiful people Austin had to offer, and it had been a few months at least since you’d gotten more than a friendly hug, and that was really wearing on you.

Jeremy was the first to notice your frustration. You were in the Stream Team’s little office doing some editing with Matt and Trevor when he finally asked. “Alright, what’s up? You doing okay? You’ve been on edge for like a week.”

“I miss that dick.”

Matt choked on his RedBull and Trevor sighed, putting his headphones back on. “Okay,” Jeremy said after a moment. “That’s a horrible thing to say to us, but okay.”

“Sorry to make it weird, but you asked me why I’m on edge, and the answer is that I’m no longer getting dicked down on the regular.”

“I have to go, uh, die somewhere else,” Matt said scrambling to leave the room. You and Jeremy watched him bolt, and when he was gone, Jeremy looked back at you.

“Must have been a pretty impressive dick.”

“Six and a half,” you said wistfully. Your boyfriend before this most recent one had been a full inch shorter.

“Is that all?” Jeremy said, surprised, and then seemed to realize how terrible that sounded and blushed.

“Jesus, Jeremy,” you laughed. “What’re you packing that six and a half inches is small? I mean, God!”

“Please shut up.” He shrunk into his seat.

“If you’ve been packing like eight, nine inches this whole time and have actively not been having sex with me, I’m gonna be so mad.”

“Oh, God, just stop.”

He sounded so wretched that you left him alone, and you kept it dropped until the minute you were in the Achievement Hunter office without him. “Guys, I have terrible news,” you said, throwing yourself on the couch with your arm over your eyes dramatically.

“Yeah?” said Michael, spinning his chair around to look at you. “What’s up?”

“Gavin, I’m sorry to tell you this, but Jeremy does in fact have a big dick.”

“Aw, no,” he said, dropping his head into his hands. None of you could resist the teasing after he spilled his dream about Jeremy’s huge penis, but it had gotten old a while ago. “I’d gotten over that! Why’d you tell me?”

“And more importantly, how do you know?” Ryan asked.

“Well,” you started, aware that this was absolutely the weirdest conversation you’d had in a while, “I happened to mention that I thought my ex had a pretty decently sized dick– six and a half, which you will recognize is above average– and Jeremy goes ‘oh, is that it?’ So, uh, I dunno.”

“Do you think he was kidding?” Ryan offered.

“He might’ve been, but he looked super embarrassed, like he hadn’t meant to say it. I made fun of him for a while and he just kept blushing. I think it was legit.”

“This is the worst day of my life,” Gavin moaned.

“You know,” Michael said, “you’re gonna have to get to the bottom of this. You’re gonna have to fuck Jeremy.”

“For science,” Ryan clarified, and you sighed.

“For science,” you agreed.

***

Science dictated that when your plan began the following Monday, you have to look good. Not just your usual casual-cute self, but downright smokin’. It was a hard line to walk: you wanted to look sexy, but work-appropriate, without letting absolutely everyone in the building know you were trying for seductive. On day one, you chose a short black skirt over tights and a very low-cut sleeveless blouse. It wasn’t exactly risqué, but you were a little mesmerized by the way your upper thighs and deep cleavage were visible in a very new way. You weren’t trying to be vain, you assured yourself as you paused in front of every mirror, but you were very curious what a straight-ish guy like Jeremy would do when he saw you.

The answer, as you found out, was drop his jaw completely to the floor. He pretended he didn’t, made some joke out of it, but you caught his eyes on you all day. It was a serious turn on to know that you could get Jeremy hot and bothered. You considered trying to hit that, just to see if he would say yes… but it wasn’t about your orgasms, it was science, and you had to play it right.

So you didn’t flirt. You were careful not to flaunt too hard; you couldn’t make it too blatant. Once or twice you would bend over just enough to show off your cleavage or your ass, but you tried not to be overt about it so that Jeremy wouldn’t catch on. And then, at the end of the day, you did nothing else at all. You finished your work, packed up, and went home.

And you did the same thing every day for the next two weeks. Some aspect of your daily wardrobe would be a touch less modest than usual, and you would show it off once or twice. You didn’t come on too strong, you didn’t flirt, you didn’t drop to your knees under the editor’s desk and go down on Jeremy until he was too breathless to even moan (although, fuck, by about day eight the temptation was strong). You waited and waited, more wound up by the minute, unsatisfied by your own hand, and finally, after fourteen work days, Jeremy cornered you on a Friday afternoon.

You were back in the Stream Team office, and Trevor and Matt had gone to lunch. You and Jeremy were finishing a build for the latest Minecraft and so waited a little longer than they did to break. “So,” Jeremy said in a would-be casual tone as you finally paused, “have you been dressing sexier on purpose?”

Score, you thought. “What do you mean?”

“I mean the shorter skirts, the tighter jeans, the lower-cut shirts.” Man, you hadn’t even been wearing tighter jeans, which mean that he was focusing on you even more than you expected. You swallowed hard, the ever-present coil of arousal tightening in your belly. “Do you seriously not know what you’re talking about?”

“No, I think I… I went out shopping with Lindsay, she talked me into a few cute things I might not normally wear, and now I have to wear them cause I spent money on them.” Lindsay would forgive the lie, you knew. It was for science, after all. “Why? Why have you been thinking about the tightness of my jeans?”

“Because to be honest, it’s really goddamn distracting. Last week you wore a short skirt and bent over and I actually stopped talking in the middle of a sentence because I just… forgot what I was gonna say. Matt was giving me shit for it. Did you not notice me staring?”

“No, I guess not,” you said with a shrug, as though it didn’t give you a thrill down to your toes to think about Jeremy staring at your ass. “How distracting was it?”

“Distracting enough that I had to run to the bathroom and deal with it.” It was harder to contain a shiver at that. Beyond the science, the thought of Jeremy working his cock thinking about you was really fucking hot. You could just about imagine it– it wasn’t like you’d never imagined it before– his brown eyes squeezed tight and his sweet mouth falling open, little moans and gasps escaping his throat, the muscles in his chest flexing as he rolled his hips into his hand… “And I don’t know how much longer I can keep working with you like this if I keep having to leave so I can deal with it.”

You set a hand on the curve of your hip, and you could see Jeremy trace the action, his eyes following the lines of your body hungrily. “Maybe you’ll have to get it all out of your system at once,” you said, letting yourself smile. “And would you look at that, I seem to have the next hour free.”

His pupils were blown wide and black, and he was almost panting. “Broom closet down the hall,” he said. “Wait there. I’ll follow in a minute.”

You flashed him a wink and obeyed, and after maybe a minute and a half in the dark closet he let himself in. “It doesn’t lock and we don’t have a lot of time,” he said, his voice thick with desire. “So we gotta hurry. I have a condom. Do you wanna fuck?”

You sucked in a sharp breath. “Jesus, do you have to say it like that?”

“Like what?”

“So… blunt.”

You could only see his vague outline in the darkness but you could tell he shrugged. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s just… it turns me on.”

He huffed. “God, I can’t fuckin’ take this. After the last three weeks I’m gonna explode. I need to fuck you right now. Skirt up, panties off, hands on the wall, let’s go.”

Good Lord, you didn’t expect sweet Jeremy to have this side in him, but you were very into it. You slid your thong down and kicked it off, hiked up your skirt, and rested your hands against the wall. Jeremy immediately pressed himself against you, and you could feel his hard, hot cock against your ass as he nibbled your neck. You couldn’t help but gasp and grind back against him.

“Gonna fuck you so good,” he murmured. His hands came around to tear your shirt open and luckily your bra clasped in the front, because he could easily undo it and roughly palm your breasts. The breath caught in your throat when he tweaked your nipple. You reached back to give his cock a few strokes and because somewhere in your mind past the haze of desire you still remembered this was an experiment, you estimated. Your best guess was eight inches. He might actually kill you. You thought you might be okay with that.

“Hurry up,” you whispered. You rolled your hips back against him again and with a groan he pulled away entirely. At first you were disappointed but then his hands shoved your thighs apart and he buried his face between your legs and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from screaming.

When you looked down, you saw his strong hands braced against your inner thighs, thumbs rubbing circles against the sensitive skin. He was sitting against the wall, eyes closed, tongue working in some magical pattern around your clit. Jeremy’s gorgeous face between your thighs was a dream come true (and a dream you’d had more than once) and you gave in, forgot the experiment and surrendered to lust.

“Sorry,” he panted against your thigh when he pulled away. You groaned in disappointment until he slid two fingers inside you and crooked them expertly. “Sorry, I know we don’t have time, but you looked good enough to eat, so…”

You flicked him in the temple, but then he scissored his fingers just slightly and you gasped. “Fuck, Jeremy, your hands are so incredible…”

“If I had more time I’d make you come on my tongue, and then my fingers, and then my cock. I’d fuck you every way I know how. But we don’t have time… just have to open you up, make sure you can take me.”

“I can take anything you can give me,” you breathed, and he laughed against your skin, fingers thrusting deep and steady.

“After six and a half, you need prep for eight and a quarter.” You whined your impatience, and with a few more strokes to your inner walls, he pulled away entirely and positioned himself behind you again. “You ready? You want this?”

“Y-yeah,” you moaned. “Fuck me, Jeremy.”

He swore and fumbled, and you heard the crunch of foil from a condom packet. In a few moments he was back behind you, guiding his cock inside you.

He was right, it hurt a bit. It had been a while, and he was right about the size… but, God, the size. The pain felt so good, and knowing how big he was only made you wetter, and you were practically dripping already. “Take it,” he groaned, sinking in to the hilt. “Oh, fuck, take it!”

“H-harder, Jeremy…” The pain was fading as you loosened around him, and that wouldn’t do. You wanted the sweet ache to remind you of how big he was. You pushed your hips back and he slapped your ass, a warning to let him control the pace. Only that felt good, so you did it again and he spanked you harder and you both moaned together.

The pace he set then was punishing. His hands kneaded your breasts roughly, or else would dip down to rub your clit, or he’d just simply grip your hips so hard he’d leave bruises later and pounded into you. You leaned against the wall with your forehead resting on your forearm and with one more pass over your clit, you came, clenching around him and whimpering. He sunk his teeth into the juncture of your neck and shoulder and came in a few more thrusts, shuddering.

It took you a few moments to catch your breath, and then he pulled out of you, turning you around gently so your back was against the wall. You knew you looked like a mess, bruises blossoming on your hips and shoulder, your shirt open and your skirt rucked up. He looked a little more composed but his expression was dazed, utterly sated. You pulled him in for a kiss, your first time kissing him. Maybe it was improper to fuck first, kiss later, but it felt natural. His mouth opened against yours, and you could taste yourself on his tongue, but that felt okay too. The scrape of his beard against your chin almost had you ready to go again.

“That was something,” he whispered when the kiss was broken. “I… Sorry I got rough, I didn’t mean to… I was just so goddamn turned on.”

“No, fuck, believe me, I…” You started redressing, clipping your bra back together and buttoning your shirt. He tucked himself back into his jeans. “I like it rough, in case it wasn’t…”

“It was good,” he said, and the simplistic finality of that made you laugh. He bent to pick something up off the floor– your thong. You held out a hand for it but he smiled, stuffed it in his pocket.

“Oh, no you don’t. These are mine now.”

“They won’t look as good on you as they do on me,” you warned, but secretly it was sexy, going back to work just-fucked without panties. Speaking of work… “We should go. This took longer than it should have.”

“Better than being done too quick, I guess.” You left the closet together, just as Miles was leaving the bathroom next door, red-faced.

He looked between you and Jeremy and you knew instantly your secret was out before you’d even had time to keep it. “Just so you know,” he said, his voice hoarse, “the walls between the closet and bathroom are pretty thin.” He hurried off and Jeremy flushed from his cheekbones down his neck.

“I guess we’ll have to find somewhere a little more private next time,” you managed, and that brought a grin to his face.

“My place, tonight?”

“You know, Jeremy, that sounds just wonderful. Right now, though, we have to go back to work.”

He sighed. “I know. C’mon.”

“Be with you in a sec. Go on ahead, I have to grab something out of the AH office.”

He shrugged, kissed you on the cheek, and went back to editing. You stuck your head inside the Achievement Hunter office and whistled to get the room’s attention.

“Just so you know,” you said, grinning, “eight and a quarter.”

It took them a second, but Gavin started whining when he realized, and Michael burst out in peals of laughter. Geoff looked between them all. “Did you– you did not. At work? Hey! Don’t fuck at work!”

You laughed, closed the door behind you, and went back to work.

#Ragehappy #Fan fiction #Achievement Hunter #Jeremy Dooley