#corners were cut. >_>; but i think it looks alright so whaddya gonna do

[cjsinkythoughts]

Hard Floors & Soft Eyes

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 1151

Warnings: A curse word or two, a sprinkle of angst, a load of fluff, mild FATWS spoilers, but nothing that wasn’t in the trailers (I think…but just to be safe, don’t read if you haven’t seen the episode/don’t mind spoilers.)

A/N: I know I’ve already written stuff today, but I’m off work today and with the episode out my mind won’t shut down. Also, I can’t get the idea of all three of my fellas having a hard time sleeping on the bed, so they just dogpile together on the floor, so here you go! A little snippet of what I imagine (just without Steve and a bit more angsty). This is for @the-marvel-horniest-book-club​ and their SamBucky week, Day 6 - Hurt/Comfort. Enjoy!

(Don’t forget to check out my Masterlist! 😘)

The first time Sam saw it was when he dropped by his place just to check up on him. It’d been a little over a month at that point, and Sam was a bit worried about him. He wasn’t answering any calls or texts and he’d missed his first therapist appointment. Sure, the man annoyed him, but he was Steve’s best pal, the last piece of the Captain besides the shield left behind. And Sam felt an obligation to the blonde to take care of him.

It was late, so Sam wasn’t sure if he’d be awake or not. When he got no response after knocking, he figured he wasn’t. Debating on whether to come back later, Sam decided to just head in to check up on him.

The first thing he noticed was the kitchen lights were on. So was the TV. He didn’t spot anything else out of the ordinary, until his dark gaze landed on a pair of legs tangled in sheets poking out from the other side of the small couch.

There was a sudden gasp, and Bucky’s head appeared over the arm of the sofa, a hand coming up to clutch his hair. Sam was at his side instantly, a comforting hand on his bare shoulder, eyes soft as his touch.

“Hey, hey. Hey, man. It’s okay. You’re alright.”

“Sam?”

“Yeah.”

Bucky blinked, rubbing at his eyes, his breathing evening out as he panted. “What…what are you doing here?”

“You missed your first appointment. I figured I’d drop by and see how you’re doing.”

“I’m fine.”

“That’s a load of bullshit.”

“It’s just a nightmare.” Bucky pushed the other man off, stretching his limbs before standing up. Sam straightened from his crouch to follow him to the kitchen. 

Sam frowned as Bucky got out a glass. “How often do you get them?”

Bucky shrugged, filling the cup with water. “Often enough that it’s normal. You want anything? I don’t got much, but-”

“No.” Sam shook his head. “I’m okay.”

“Alright.”

They didn’t mention the nightmares or the fact that Bucky was on the wooden floor instead of his bed for the rest of the night, opting instead to sit down and watch some TV in silence.

It was a few weeks after, when Sam stopped by again on Christmas, that he caught Bucky doing it again.

It was in the morning this time, and Sam wasn’t expecting him to be asleep, figuring he never slept much these days. Except he was. In the exact same spot as a few weeks prior. He sighed, padding over and squatting down, shaking Bucky’s shoulder gently.

“Wh-what?!”

“Chill.” Sam placed a hand on his shoulder again. Bucky blinked, before relaxing when he realized it was the Air Force vet. “I brought you something.” Sam pulled out a small box wrapped in red, green, and white striped wrapping paper. “Merry Christmas, man.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, tentatively taking the box. “You-you got me a present?”

“Of course I did. It’s Christmas.”

“Yeah…I guess it is.” His lips turned down at the former assassin’s tone. He wondered when the last time he actually celebrated Christmas was. Wakanda? 1944 in some basecamp overseas? 1942 in Brooklyn with his family for the last time? 

“Well?” Sam chuckled, plopping down besides Bucky, crossing his legs underneath him. “Open it.”

Bucky shot him a hesitant look, before unwrapping the box. Three books were inside. J. R. R. Tolkien books. “Those are the sequels to The Hobbit I was telling you about. They came out in 1950…4. I think. Maybe ‘55.”

“I - uh - thanks.” Bucky looked up at him with those gentle puppy dog eyes of his and Sam felt his heartbeat skip

He shrugged, playing it off nonchalantly. “Figured it’d give you something to do…” The room went silent again, Sam’s eyes drifting to the pillow crammed in the corner between the wall and the couch. “So…havin’ trouble sleeping still?”

Bucky followed his gaze, licking his lips. “I just…I dunno. I can’t sleep in the bed.”

“Too soft. I know.” At Bucky’s slightly shocked look, Sam chuckled and explained. “Steve and I talked about it once. Our first meeting, actually. I served two tours, remember?”

“Oh. Right. So…you know, then.”

“Yeah.” Sam confirmed softly. He cleared his throat after another brief quietness enveloped the room. “I brought the movies, too.” He reached into his bag and pulled out the six DVDs. “I figured we could crank them all out today if you’re not doing anything.”

Bucky shook his head. “No. I’m not. But…but don’t you wanna spend time with your family? You’ve got a sister, right? And nephews?”

Sam waved dismissively. “I hung out with them all week. Just left last night. They’ll be fine.”

“If you say so.”

Sam went back to his place for New Year’s Eve, determination set in his eyes as he hauled the bag carrying the supplies needed for his plan.

“What’s that for?” Bucky wondered, eyeing the bag with curiosity and suspicion.

“You’ll see. Hey, I ordered pizza from that place down the street, Russo’s, but it needs to be picked up. Can you-?”

Bucky already had his keys in his hands. “Yup. I’ll be right back.”

As soon as the door shut behind the blue eyed brunette, Sam immediately got to work. He dumped out his materials, rolled up his sleeves, and started pinning, hooking, and tying things up.

By the time Bucky got back, he was almost done, just putting up the lights. The prisoner of war stopped in his doorway, wide eyes blinking in confusion as he stared at the other man’s creation.

“Ta-dah! Whaddya think?” Sam stood back, arms spread out, a proud beam on his face as he gazed at his masterpiece.

“Wh-why?”

“Whaddya mean why? If we’re gonna sleep on the floor every time I come here, I’m at least gonna make it comfortable.”

Blankets and sheets were hung up, fairy lights dangling and making the room glow softly. Plush throw pillows were scattered on the floor over a blanket that looked very fluffy and cozy.

“I got us onesies too! They’re the most comfortable things. Look!”

Bucky’s breath hitched at the pjs that Sam held up. They were styled as Steve’s uniform, complete with an attached hood/cowl and a pillow that looked like the shield. “I couldn’t decide on which ones to pick, so if you don’t like it I’ve got, like five other choi-”

Sam was cut off by toned arms, one flesh and blood, the other gears and metal, wrapping around him, squeezing him tightly. Sam immediately reciprocated, placing his chin on the other man’s shoulder.

“Thank you.” Came Bucky’s muffled voice from where his face was pressed into Sam’s neck.

Sam couldn’t help but place a gentle kiss to Bucky’s temple, a hand coming up to tangle in his hair, cradling his head against his shoulder. “Of course, Buck. Anytime.”

#cjsinkythoughts #cjswriting #sambucky week #marvelhbcfatws #fatws #falcon and the winter soldier #fatws spoilers #falcon and the winter soldier spoilers #sam wilson x bucky barnes #falcon x the winter soldier #sam wilson x bucky barnes fluff #sam wilson x bucky barnes angst #sam wilson #bucky barnes

[alilbihh]

tomorrow (forever) | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

summary: it's only after two of your best friends get married that you and jungkook realize maybe marriage isn't that bad of an idea at all.

words: 2.3k

genre: established relationship!au, fluff, jungkook is just! a fool in love!!

a/n: I just love him ok!!! wanna kiss his nose!!!! and i took way too long to actually finish smth for the bingo. sdjksdgkj. ty for reading

The thing is, you predicted this marriage not too long ago. Or maybe it wasn't long ago at all.

It's one thing to be there when Hoseok and Yoongi are stupidly, densely in love with each other, with exchanging looks and lingering touches and letting them cry on your shoulder because they were in love with their best friend and didn't know what that meant.

It's another thing entirely, though, to be nursing a glass of wine offered to you in a tray and a well dressed waiter, poking at the decidedly uncomfortable dress digging into your side, watching the couples dance and the group of middle aged uncles cheer and the unwilling children skirt around their mother's dresses as they urge them to say hello.

You think you're tired but the buzzing in your ears tells you you're not. Hoseok keeps going around showing off his ring finger and Yoongi keeps kissing his knuckles and Jimin won't stop crying from even before the vows were said and it's all very dramatic and emotional and you can't stop smiling.

Jungkook's probably off somewhere to both charm and gain the favor of unsuspecting grannies, and when you strain your eyes to look sure enough, an older woman with too many rings and kind eyes is leading your boyfriend to a table of fruit slices and punch, probably saying something like eat, eat, you're too skinny, even though he probably has more muscle than actual flesh. You've seen this situation before.

The granny in question is shoving an entire cornucopia in his hands and watching expectantly, and you think you can pinpoint the moment he spots you watching him, eyes lighting up and his smile widening and this little bounce in his step he does when he's excited and can't quite hold it all in. You're so fond you don't think you can hold it all in, either.

He's hurriedly setting down the fruits and bowing respectfully at the granny before rushing towards you, first a walk then a jog then too-long strides that isn't quite considered a run and make him look so ridiculous you can't help but laugh. He's laughing when he reaches you, too.

Jungkook gently takes a hold of your hand, and you set down your glass of wine so he can take hold of the other, swings them around lightly,

"Y/n, hello, hello," he says, grins, clears his throat so he can push down some of the fondness leaking through his tone before finding that he doesn't need to and saying, "Did I tell you how beautiful you look?"

(Which is-- a ridiculous thing to say, really, because-- he's the one who drove you two here, and the first thing he said when he saw you was a mumbled wow and he's complimented you, like, three more times since then, and it's-- a lot. You just love him a lot.)

You pretend to think, hum lowly and say, "Huh, I can't recall. Might want to say it again."

Jungkook grins, never stopped, gently pulls you up, up, mumbles against your forehead, "Well, let me be the first to tell you that you look stunning."

You adjust his tie slightly, brush off his tux, grin something goofy and lopsided. "You look quite dashing yourself, mister Jeon. Very smart."

His hair is a bit disheveled, not quite as put together as it was when he first arrived, and when you squint you think there's a weird stain on his dark suit that's barely visible but still very much there that you're sure he, himself, has no idea of its origins. His eyes are a little wild and he's probably a bit tipsy. He's the prettiest man you've ever seen.

"Hmm," Jungkook hums something teasing, grins teasingly, too, "Will I look more smart if I start doing math problems here and now? Will it arouse you?"

You slap lightly at his chest as he laughs, "Shut up, nerd," you say but it doesn't come out nearly as menacing as you wanted it to. "Did you drink already?"

"Duh. Everyone did." As if on cue, Seokjin waltzes by in all his pink suited glory, hugging a wine bottle to his chest and whining to a nearby uncle about the extreme lack of kitchen utensils in the establishment. Someone should probably go control him.

"Where's Namjoon at a time like this?" You say, seconds before your eyes widen and you continue with a low, "Don't tell me he's drunk? Oh no. Drunk Namjoon is not a good Namjoon."

Jungkook winces, too, probably also recalling that one time Namjoon got drunk, barfed his guts out on a nearby tree, then started aggressively speaking spanish to it, in that order. You didn't know Namjoon knew spanish. Namjoon didn't know he knew spanish.

"It's.. not a good time." Is all Jungkook says.

You're both still standing in a corner by the bar, wrapped up and spewing nonsense to each other, and you think there's something you could say here, something to fill the silence, but this is nice, too. Like there's no need to fill it at all.

He's just started swaying you both to the music completely out of rhythm, something a bit slower than the upbeat song probably chosen by Hoseok, when the song abruptly cuts off, Taehyung tap, tap, tapping at the mic, someone that you think is the dj distantly yelling complaints.

"Alright, time for our dear friend Yoongi to throw the bouquet! Whoever's interested can line up, come, come, come!"

When you look over Jungkook's shoulder you see a very blushy, very displeased Yoongi and a very delighted Hoseok nudging him forward, the shorter man clutching at the blue and white flowers in his hands. Seokjin is cackling hysterically.

"Y/n-ah!" Jungkook gasps, swinging your arms around like a madman, "I wanna catch the bouquet!"

You snort, because of course he does, "Isn't that a lady thing?"

He scoffs, "That's dumb. Since when do I adhere to social norms." He's bouncing in place again, glancing from you to the dance floor and back, where a small group of women have gathered. You laugh.

"Go, go, I'll watch from here," You say and he sprints, and you watch with a laugh because--really, he stands out like a sore thumb, the tallest of them all, a black tux amidst a sea of colorful dresses. Yoongi's standing on a small podium, his back facing them all, preparing to throw the bouquet, and you think you can see everyone holding their breath in anticipation.

The whole situation is so immensely endearing, a small congregation of women with their hands already in the air, Jungkook doing little hops despite being able to easily see over all their heads.

You're so wrapped up in your thoughts, with the idea of what you'll do when Jungkook comes back all pouty and empty handed, that you don't really process when it happens; Jungkook springing into the air, clutching the bouquet to his chest like a lifeline.

He turns, grins victoriously, waving his newly acquired bouquet in the air, says something along the lines of look, look, Y/n-ah, look, I caught it, I caught the bouquet, but your brain just kind of-- short circuits.

Like yes, maybe it's just a bouquet, just a silly tradition for people to think they're meant to get married next, but that's exactly it. Jungkook caught the bouquet. That means he's meant to get married next.

By the time Jungkook reaches you, the thought marriage marriage marriage has kind of already wrapped itself around your head, echoing mercilessly. What if this were your wedding? Would you cry during your vows, like Jungkook most definitely will? What if you two were the ones to decorate the venue, to argue over its color scheme, to taste test wedding cakes until Jungkook tastes sweet sweet sweet. If every time you held hands you'd feel the smooth line of a ring, if you could look down at your ring finger and remember how much you love, love, love.

Jungkook's still looking at you expectantly when you come to.

"Um." You blink. "Congrats."

"See? I told you I could do it." He runs a finger over the petals, brows furrowed, mumbles a low what kind of flower is this, inspecting them seriously, completely unaware of your inner turmoil. And you feel kind of-- overwhelmed, maybe, of this boy, this beautiful boy, and wonder if maybe he feels the same way, maybe he'll want to spend forever with you, too.

Jungkook's still talking when you snap out of it, "...And then I was like, I'm gonna do it, and then hyung was like, don't do it, and then I was like, why can't I do it, and then he said something about it not being a good idea? I was honestly shocked. When do I not have good ideas."

"Preposterous." You say, just to have something to say.

"Absolutely preposterous." He nod nod nods, and you wonder when you both started swaying, the song already something softer and slower.

"I'm gonna," you breathe, "Gonna get a drink, I think."

"Oh! Me too, me too. Let's go," He takes a hold of your hand, which is-- devastating, really. Here you are, trying to escape the thought of marrying your boyfriend with your boyfriend following you. Devastating.

You trail behind as he leads you back to the bar, keeps holding your hand while he orders for you both, tilts his head and says whaddya want, baby? And it's, just. Devastating.

You feel a bit like how you did in your first date, just toeing over the line between friends and lovers, wondering what to do next. Feel a bit lost but not quite, feel comfortable where you are, but at the same time kind of want to be introduced as Jungkook's spouse. And kiss Jungkook's ring. And--

"Hey," Jungkook breathes into your ear, laughs when you jump, "What're you thinking so intently about?"

"About how to get you to never do that again." You stick your tongue out at him. He does the same.

"C'mon, c'mon, tell me," he says, giggling sporadically, shuffles his chair closer to yours. He looks like he wants to keep going but his eyes widen suddenly, something like the beginning of a bad idea in the glint in his eyes, "Hey, hey, I just had an idea."

"Yeah?" You grin, wave the bartender over when you see him with your drinks.

Except when he's about to set your drink down, Jungkook leans in close and--"Let's elope," and you, one: flail your arms, two: choke a little, and three: knock over your drink.

Jungkook's too busy laughing to both acknowledge and explain himself, so you're left to profusely apologize to the very confused bartender and aggressively wipe napkins over the counter. It's a mess.

"Jungkook!" You hiss once the bartender goes away, "You can't just-- why!"

"Because it's fun," he giggles, cheeks tinted rosy gold.

"What just happened?" A voice says suddenly overhead, and when you turn you see an equally confused Hoseok rightfully worried over what's going on at his wedding. This is probably the first time you've seen him away from Yoongi the whole night.

"Y/n just spilled her drink." Jungkook tattles immediately.

"I did not-"

"It just flew everywhere, all over the place. There was an avalanche of it. People were swimming in it, slipping in it, they're considering calling for a nationwide rationing of wine just to make up for—"

"Shut up, I hate you," he grins, and what you say is rendered ineffective when you let your boyfriend pull you close to kiss your temple.

Boyfriend. Because—you're not married. But maybe that's not the worst thing in the world, suddenly.

It's a few hours later, the venue growing more spacious, more empty, when you bring it up again-- Jungkook already beside you, tracing a nonsensical pattern over the back of your hand. You don't think he realizes what he's doing. The thought makes you so endlessly fond.

"Guk?" You mumble. He hums in question, head tilting to give you his full attention.

"Wha'sit, baby?" He drawls.

You breathe. There's some confetti stuck to his hair, and you laugh softly before plucking it out. He just grins and lets you, ducks his head before watching you through his lashes. You run a hand through his hair, then, the gel already having disintegrated into his skull or whatnot, fringe sticking to his forehead. He closes his eyes. Looks so pretty you might just burst.

You let in a breath. Let it out. Count to three. Say-- "That's where we're headed, right?"

It takes a second, then two. Jungkook opens his mouth, as if to say something, closes it. Looks around, and you think you can pinpoint when he realizes you're not talking about home, at least not in the literal sense.

He cracks a smile, lets out the softest laugh. "Oh, baby," he coos, kisses your knuckles once, twice, thrice, lets out the goofiest grin. "Of course, Y/n-ah, my baby. We're in this together, hm?"

(There's hints, later, too-- sometimes he'll be eating cereal and randomly say maybe yellow would be nice for our wedding, sometimes you'll walk past jewelry stores and he'll give you this soft little nudge of presence. Sometimes he'll stare a few seconds too long at your empty ring finger.

You wonder, wonder when he started saying when, when we get married, not if. Wonder when he started being so sure of it, this fiercely sure thing. Wonder when you started agreeing without much thought.

You're not engaged, not quite yet, but your heart kind of-- swells, when you think about it, that one day you will be, maybe not too far from now.

Tomorrow, though-- tomorrow. Right now, you're content as it is. You can figure out forever tomorrow.)

#btsghostie #btsghostiebingo #bts #bts jungkook #jungkook x reader #bts fanfiction #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fluff #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #jungkook fanfic

[amor-immortalem]

My Adoring Fan chapter 9

a/n: time to get back to this

Previous

“Alright I’ve got them...” Aurelius dumps his books in the center of the little group consisting of Zulima, Max and himself. “Where’s ‘Zay?”

“Your dad wanted to talk to her as we passed by your parents’ room.” Max offered. “About what happened at RAD.”

The white- and black-haired boy nodded. “Alright then. Let’s get started then.” He flipped open to a random page and checked with his cousin and the human to make sure they hadn’t already covered the material yet: Transfiguration.

With a negative answer they began.

------------------------------------------------------l

Arella was deciding on something to make for lunch, when Cyrus and Mahlon made it back home from their time out. As soon as the toddler could get his little shoes off, Mahlon was in the kitchen tugging on the hem of his mother’s shirt as he bounced like an excited puppy.

“Mama! Mama! Mama! ‘M hungry. When’s lunch?” He asks with wide green-to-blue-to gold gradient eyes. “Awso- Awso- Awso, me ‘n Cy... me ‘n Cy saw a weally pwetty kitty on da way home.”

“You did?” She asks with a soft chuckle. “Well, I’m not sure what I’m making for lunch just yet so why don’t you help me decide. Sound good?”

The toddler nods as Arella picks him up and places him on the counter. Cyrus enters the kitchen shortly thereafter.

“Sorry I couldn’t keep him occupied longer, Mum.” The half-demon reaches into the fridge to grab out a sportsdrink. “I know Dad’s not in the best of shape today so I tried to get Mahlon to stay out with me longer but he wouldn’t have it. Is he doing any better now, though?”

“A little bit...” Arella nodded. “He and your sister fell asleep together upstairs so I’ll wake them when lunch is finished.”

“’Zay’s home?!” Mahlon’s eyes lit up as he hopped down. “I wanna see ‘er.”

“Mahlon, honey, no. You’ll wake them right now.”

“But I wanna see ‘em!” The boy complains.

“They’re not going anywhere, Buddy.” Cyrus chuckled. “And I thought you said you were going to help Mum choose what’s for lunch?”

“Yeah.... Yeah but...”

“No buts, little one.” Arella smiled as she opened the fridge. “Your brother is up in his room with Zulima and Max. You can go see them if helping decide what’s for lunch doesn’t interest you anymore.”

Mahlon nodded taking off for the stairs as Arella turns back to the fridge to continue her task

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“Auwelius!” Mahlon exclaims as he jumps on his older brother’s back. “Why’dyu come home eawly? Hi, Zuli!” His multicolored eyes narrowed when he noticed Max, “Human... go away.”

“Hm?” The older teen looks back, “Don’t worry about it just yet, bud.” He ruffles Mahlon’s fluffy black hair. “Also don’t talk to Max like that. You may be the baby of the family but that doesn’t mean you get to act like a brat.”

Mahlon on let out a hmph as he turned his attention to one of the spell books. “What’s that?”

“It’s a spell for transfiguration,” Zulima explained.

“Can I see how it's done?”

“Sure,” Max offers, “I can do it for you.”

“No!” The toddler growled as he glared at her. “I wasn’t asking you. I was asking Auwelius or Zuli. Not you, Stupid.”

“Whoa,” Both Aurelius and Zulima cut in.

“Cool your jets there, Mahlon.” Zulima started, “Max just offered to show you what you wanted to see. You don’t have to be mean.”

“If you can’t act nicely, then you can go. The door’s that way.” Aurelius points toward the door. “The three of us are trying to study.”

“No! I wanna stay! I wanna stay!” The nearly three-year-old shouts as Aurelius covers Mahlon’s mouth with his hand.

“Mahlon, stOP! You yellin’ at the top of your damn lungs like this is not a good thing. Dad’s probably sleeping right now. Do you really want to be the one that wakes him up?” Mahlon shakes his head as Aurelius removes his hand from his brother’s mouth. “That’s what I thought.”

“Too bad it already happened.” Mammon says as he leans against the doorframe. “Mahlon, apologize to Max and then go downstairs.”

“I’m not sayin’ sowwy. Not to ‘er,” Mahlon crossed his arms with a huff.

“It wasn’t optional, Mahlon. Say yer sorry. Right now.”

“No! You can’t make me!”

“I sure as hell can put ya in time out until yer ready to though. Downstairs, now- or do I gotta come over there and get ya myself?”

Mahlon only shook his head and marched out of Azalea’s room, headed downstairs for his punishment.

“Here’s yer phone back, Max. Send me that audio so I can get it to Lucifer and Lord Diavolo.” Mammon sighed, “There’s no excuse for the four of ya ta have had what was said ta ya said ta ya.”

The blue-eyed human only nodded as she put her phone away and the demon left.

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As Mammon and Mahlon make their way downstairs, the demon flips on a 5-minute timer on his phone.

“When this timer goes off, I’ll come get ya and we’ll talk about why what ya did was wrong and why ya did it, ‘kay?” Mammon says as he puts Mahlon in a corner for his time out and the boy nodded. The white-haired demon flips on the time and heads into the kitchen to get something to drink.

“Hey, right behind ya,” he says as reaches over Arella to grab a water bottle from the fridge. “So... Mahlon’s in time out right now because he’s refusin’ to apologize to Max for callin’ her stupid.”

“What? really?” Arella looks up at him with wide eyes. “That’s the second time he’s done that while she’s been over...”

“Yeah ‘n it's gonna be the last too.” He hums, “I think he’s just jealous of her because ‘Zay gives Max the attention that he wants from her. Ya know how much he loves ‘er despite the way she treats him ‘n how possessive he gets over us or his siblings.”

“Yeah, I thought we’d managed to curb this behaviour from last time though...” She rubbed her temples. “How are you feeling though after you’ve had that nap? You ready for lunch, love?”

“I’m a lil’ better. Kinda nauseous from not eatin’ all morning so I’m more than ready for lunch. Maybe gettin’ some food in me’ll help kick the rest of this. I’m tired of just sittin’ around doin’ nothin’.

“Just take it easy, alright? Remember what the doctor said all those years ago? Rest is the quickest way to come out of this.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m just bored.” He sighed as the timer went off. “Welp, time to go talk to our son.” He took a swig out of his water bottle and went back out into the living room to talk to Mahlon.

“Alright, I’m going to wake Azalea and collect the others for lunch.” Arella says as she climbs the stairs.

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“Azalea,” Arella calls softly as she’s tries to rouse her daughter from her nap for lunch. “Time to wake up, my little flower.”

“Don’t wannaaaaaa,” The teen only rolls further onto her side trying to bury her face in the pillow. “’m not hungry.”

“I know you don’t but you have to. You’ll never sleep tonight and then you’ll be tired for school the next day.”

“Noooo, I’ll be fine.”

Well, if her daughter was refusing to get up, Arella had other strategies to wake the girl. Her hands snuck to Azalea’s sides and she began to tickle the girl.

“Ah! Stop! Stop! I give!” The half-demon laughed as she tries to roll further away from Arella only for Arella to pull her back in when she was in danger of falling off the king-sized bed. “Mercy! Mercy!”

The human ceases the tickle attack as she holds her daughter close. “I’m glad you saw it my way,” She smiled. “Lunch is ready, Princess. Your brother and I made sandwiches.”

“Which one? I have two.”

“It was Cyrus and no- you have three brothers, Darling.”

“Does Mahlon really count?” She asked.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean he can’t do much in the way of helpin’ if he can’t even reach the bloody counter now, can he?”

“Oh, that’s what you meant,” She let out a relieved sigh as Azalea laughed softly.

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“So, are ya ready to apologize to Max, now, Buddy.” Mammon asks as he sits with his youngest on the couch.

“No... I’m mad at her.” the black-haired boy puffs his cheeks out in a pout.

“You’re angry at her? Why? Did she do something to upset you?”

“She took ‘Zay away.”

“Whaddya mean by that, Mahlon?” The demon asks as he readjusts the boy on his lap. “Max didn’t take yer sister away from ya.”

“Yes, she did. ‘Zay don’t love me no more... She’s always with Max...”

“Mahlon, bud, that ain’t true,” The Avatar of Greed sighs. “Your Sis is just bad at showin’ those types of feelings sometimes but I promise you she does love ya... in her own way.”

“How do you know?” Mahlon’s multicolored eyes peer up at his father.

“Can I let ya in on a little secret?” He asks as Mahlon nods. “When you were a baby, Azalea hated ya. She didn’t want ya to be here- even still she’s not really yer biggest fan.”

“What? Why? Did I do someting wrong?”

“No, it's just that up until Mama and I had you, she didn’t have ta share our attention with anyone but Aurelius so she felt like you were taking us away from her and she felt like she was being replaced. Ya see, babies require a lot of work after their first born so we really didn’t have a lot of free time ta spend one on one with your brother and sister like we used to. She resented having ya around but as ya got older and ya started ta get more independent and not in need of constant supervision, she started ta calm down about it.”

“So she doesn’t like me?”

“She’s getting better about it. Ya just gotta give her time which leads me to my next point: You can’t be mean to Max. Not only is it wrong since she’s been nothing but nice to you, but do you really think your sister is going to like that you’re being rude and nasty to her friend?”

“... No...”

“So doncha think you should apologize?”

“Mhm...”

“That’s my good boy,” The demon ruffles his son’s hair. “It’s lunch time now so let’s go ahead and wash our hands and get to the table, ‘kay?”

“’Kay,” The toddler hops down from his father’s lap and heads off for the kitchen.

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

Next

Find more on my masterlist

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me! shall we date? #obey me next gen #obey me mammon #obey me oc #arella #azalea #aurelius #cyrus

[a-solitary-marshmallow]

Rewind Chapter 7 - Mistakes are Made

Oh jeez, I mean to post this days ago but I totally forgot! Whoops.

As you might have noticed, updates are coming pretty slow at the moment. This fic is getting hard to write, due to personal circumstances and shifting hyperfixations, but I will continue it once I’m able to get invested again. Until then, updates will probably be slow. Rest assured, this fic will be completed!

Hope you guys enjoy this chapter :)

_______________________________________________________________

After a few more necessary hours of sleep, which for Ford were deep and dreamless, the construction itself began in two different corners of the lab. On one side Fiddleford dove into making a working prototype of the gun, while on the other side Ford began cooking up ammunition.

Few things could kill a dream demon. Protective unicorn magic could halt one, and the right concoction of ingredients could harm one, but working together they might just be able to kill one. Therein lay the rub – how could the two be combined into a single shot? Luckily, Ford didn’t have his three PHDs for nothing, and he was nothing if not persistent.

:readmore:

By mid-morning he had worked out the necessary ratio of ingredients for the most effective attack power. By afternoon he had created the first prototype, and by late afternoon he had a dish full of them.

The final bullet design had a pill-like appearance, spherical in shape and filled to the brim with cloudy, iridescent magic. They made a glass-like tinkering noise as they dropped into their dish. Ford took a pair of tweezers and lifted one to the light, admiring its shine.

“That looks cool.” Stan said hesitantly from behind him – how long had Stan been being him? Ford yelped and fumbled, nearly dropping the capsule. “Sorry.”

“Don’t sneak up on me when I’m working!” Ford snapped. He hurriedly placed the ammunition back on its tray before it could get broken and turned to frown at his brother. Stan, for his part, looked suitably ashamed. “What are you doing down here anyway? I told you, you’re not allowed in the lab.”

“I know, I know!” Stan’s shoulders were around his ears and creeping steadily higher with each second that passed. “Just – I thought you and Fidds would be hungry? You’ve been doing your science thing for ages and I made food, so…”

“Oh.” For the first time, Ford comprehended the tray in his brother’s hands. “Well, thank you. You’re still not supposed to be down here though.”

Stan stood on his tiptoes to lift the tray onto Ford’s workbench. The normally exuberant boy seemed unusually down, stepping back and rubbing his arm after placing down his load, and a twinge of guilt went through Ford. Okay, maybe a little more than a twinge. He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Look – Stanley. I need to apologize for my behaviour earlier. I shouldn’t have gotten short with you.”

Stan shrugged and did not meet his eyes. Ford crouched to be at his brother’s level.

“I. Um, those dreams you told me about. Did you have any more last night?”

Stan stared at his feet and mumbled, “No.”

Ford took a deep breath, but before he could speak Fiddleford called out from across the lab.

“Stanford, I could use a hand over here!”

Ford straightened and hurried over to where his partner was soldering parts together. The gun was beginning to take shape on his workbench – maybe the size of a small hunting rifle but thicker, runes scratched into every inch of shiny metal and shimmering with Bill-proof magic. Fiddleford lifted his soldering mask to wipe his damp forehead.

“I already added yer magic wards and the last of that shiny hair stuff, an’ I gotta finish the magazine. Hold the thing steady for me, will ya? It’s delicate and we’re all outta unicorn hair to make another one, so for god’s sake be careful.”

“Of course.” Ford slipped on a pair of heat-proof gloves and steadied the rifle while Fiddleford lined up the parts. He made sure to avert his eyes from the glow of white-hot metal as his friend worked.

“Watcha doing?” Stanley called from across the lab.

“Attachin’ the last piece.” Fiddleford called back, not taking his eyes off the rifle. “Don’t get to close, or ya might get burned.”

“What bit is that?”

“It’s where the ammunition is stored.” Fiddleford explained.

“Oh! Like the shiny things Ford made?”

“Exactly.”

Once the soldering was complete Fiddleford lifted his mask to inspect the job, squinting through his glasses. He nodded to himself.

“Could use a bit a’ fine-tuning, but I’d call that almost done.”

Footsteps sounded as Stanley approached cautiously. Fiddleford grinned at the child, who stretched onto his tiptoes to see the project. “Whaddya think?”

Stan’s eyes lit up. “That looks so cool! This Bill guy isn’t gonna know what hit ‘im!” He looked between Ford and Fiddleford. “Whaddya do with it now?”

“We gotta make sure everythin’ runs smoothly before anything.” Fiddleford pulled off his soldering mask and wiped his sweaty brow. “Ford, would ya get the ammunition? Once this thing cools down I wanna make sure the dimensions are right.” He began pulling off his thick gloves.

“I can do that!” Stan scurried over to Ford’s workbench, ignoring Ford’s cry. He grabbed the dish of capsules and trotted back with the enthusiasm of a golden retriever playing fetch. Ford let out a hiss.

“Be careful with those!” He snatched them from his brother’s hands, heart racing. The ammunition seemed unharmed, but you could never be too careful, especially when there was a child around. Especially when there was Stanley around. He acted so thoughtlessly sometimes, that was the reason Ford hadn’t allowed him down here in the first place!

Stan looked sufficiently ashamed. “Sorry, Ford.”

Ford placed the bullets down very carefully next to the cooling rifle. “Why don’t you go upstairs? This is delicate work.”

“But you guys seem really busy. I can help!”

“No, Stan. This is very important work and you might break something.”

“No, but I’m good at stuff!” Stan protested. “I can carry stuff, and punch people, and get unicorn hair! I can be useful. You wanna move this to a bigger table? I can do it, see?” And to Ford’s horror he grabbed the gun off the table. Ford snatched for it, but Stan had already yelped as his bare hands came into contact with scorching metal and the rifle slipped from his grip.

Fiddleford dove to catch it. He crashed chest-first into the ground and only barely managed to snag it before it was dashed against the floor as well. The ammunition was not so lucky – the dish overturned in the scuffle and pellets skittered every which way, disappearing under surfaces and around shoes. Stan fumbled to try and collect them, but he was only making it worse, knocking them away in his panic.

“Sorry, sorry sorry sorry-”

“I said no!” Ford roughly grabbed his brother’s arm and yanked him away from the workspace, ignoring Stan’s yelp. “Every time, every time I think we’re past this you just have to go and mess everything up again! Are you not capable of doing what I say for once in your life and just leaving well enough alone? I told you not to touch anything! You could well have destroyed our one chance at getting rid of Cipher once and for all!”

“I’m sorry, okay?!” Stan whined and tried to pull away – dodging responsibility once again, just like always. Ford growled and held him in place.

“Now, Stanley, you– quit squirming! – you will sit down and be quiet and not touch anything else, is that understood?”

“Ford, leggo!” Stan squeaked.

“You are to stay away from Fiddleford and I while we work. I will not have you sabotaging me again, not like you did at the science fair-”

Stan punched him in the face.

It was a weak blow from a tiny fist – it barely hurt – but the shock at having his brother strike him made Ford freeze. Stan ripped from his grip and stumbled back with a whimper that sounded dangerously like a sob.

…oh.

Ford didn’t even have to look at his brother’s pale, tearstained face to realize that he had, perhaps, gone a little overboard.

“Stanley-” Ford couldn’t think of anything to say. What was there to say? Stan looked terrified, and Ford supposed he cut a rather intimidating figure to such a small person. He reached out but Stan jerked away violently from his hand.

Why wasn’t Stan getting mad at him in return? The Stan Ford knew would have yelled right back. Ford could handle anger, but he had no idea how to handle fear.

“Stan, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…”

He reached out again, helplessly. The instant his fingertips touched Stan’s shoulder the child recoiled, throwing his hands up as if to defend himself. But surely he knew Ford would never hurt him?

“No! No no no don’t touch me leave me alone! Go away! I hate you and I don’t ever wanna see you again go away!”

Ford flinched, and Stan took the opportunity to spin on his heel and bolt for the stairs. Ford froze, torn between chasing after him and staying to clean up the mess.

“Ford, a little help!” Fiddleford yelped, and Ford made up his mind. He whipped around and hurried to help his friend lift the rifle back onto his workbench. As he took the weight of the rifle Fiddleford snatched his hands back, wincing at the bright red burns that seared across his palms. “Ouch.”

Ford was careful to keep away from the hot section of metal as he lifted the gun back onto the table. When it was secure he was finally able to take a breath and turn to his friend.

“Fiddleford, are you alright?”

“Ah’m fine, just gotta get these in some water. Where’d Stanley go?”

“I – I don’t know.”

Fiddleford’s eyes widened. “If he goes outside the barrier-”

There were more words, but Ford had stopped processing them. He bolted for the stairs.

 Stan was such an idiot.

He hadn’t even stopped to put on shoes before running into the woods, and he already couldn’t feel his toes from the stinging cold. Well, who cared anyway? He just had to get away.

Stan’s numb foot caught on a root and sent him hurtling to the ground, grating his face and hands on frigid, snowy dirt. He let out a squeaking wheeze as the air left his squashed lungs, letting out little hitching coughs and sobs as he struggled to regain his breath.

Shut up shut up shut up, stop being such a wimp. He pushed himself up on shaky arms and sniffled, rubbing at his nose with a pathetic whimper.

Okay. So, everything was crashing down around him. That was fine. Everything was just fine. He still had – um.

What did he have?

There was something in his fist. Stan sniffed and uncurled his fingers to reveal a tiny shimmering pearl resting in his palm. He stared at it, blinking tears from his eyes.

“What the heck are you?”

Oh, wait. It was one of Ford’s bullet things. Stan’s grip tightened around it, that stupid little ball that was so important to his brother.

He placed it on the ground, climbed to his feet, and lifted a foot to stomp down on it.

And hesitated.

Because it was stupid, but Ford seemed to think these were so important, and Stan just couldn’t crush something that meant that much to his brother. He hiccupped and growled to himself.

He couldn’t do it.

Stan shoved it in his pocket and headed further into the woods.

 Stan wasn’t in the house.

A quick, desperate search revealed Ford’s home empty. Luckily a fresh layer of snow lay on the ground outside – a trail of footprints disappeared into the woods and he bolted after them, snatching his coat on his way out. Of all the places to go! The forest wasn’t safe, Ford had to get his brother back inside the barrier where Bill couldn’t reach them-

His foot slipped on wet snow.

Ford barely had time to flail before his legs slipped from under him and his head hit a tree trunk with a decisive clunk.

#gravity falls #rewind #chapter 7

[harringtonstudios]

dusky pink (II).

plot: he’s supposed to be taking you out, but things take a sharp turn left. part 1!

A/N: this has been a long time in the works i’m sorry about that! i don’t think it lives up to its potential :( i hope you guys like it lemme know how you feel :)

SMUT!!! masterlist

taglist: @iamdorka​ @no-shxt-sherl​ @bakerkells​ @rosegoldrichie​ @findingmyths​ @mayaslifeinabox​ @itjustkindahappenedreally​ @hnbtx​ @backoftheroomandnotbelonging​

Walking out into the warm Californian air, you let the quietness settle in. Colson’s walked ahead of you, playing with his keys as you pass the house you’d posed in. Letting the champagne take over, you quicken your pace to meet his steps. 

“Slow down daddy long legs,” you blurt out, struggling to keep up with him. He bursts out laughing, slowing down just a little. His hand reaches out and you look up at him before casually taking it. 

His fingers wrap into yours and you smile at the way he squeezes your hand before saying, “There you go, happy shortie?”

Pretending to be offended, you shout, “Short? Me? You’re like 6 foot 2, man.”

He stops walking, grinning with teeth before muttering, “6 foot 4.”

You roll your eyes up at him as he lets out another laugh, happy with his own jokes. The keys in his hand click and then the car across the street lights up, flashing the dark sidewalk. You give him a look before dropping his hand to move towards the car. 

“She’s pretty,” you exclaim, hands running over the cherry red exterior. 

“You’re pretty,” he quips back, opening up the locks. 

“Well yeah, I know that, but damn. This baby’s a thing of beauty,” you continue, opening up the passenger seat door, still in awe of the condition of the car. 

“It’s a rental,” he murmurs, plugging in his keys. 

A second later, the engine roars to life and you pull on your seatbelt, ready for an adventure.

-

Sitting in the passenger seat of Colson’s car, you quietly tapped your fingers against your thigh. The champagne had gotten to your head, the world buzzing just a little bit as he drove past the streetlights. It felt good, even better when you rolled the window down a little, wind brushing into the car. 

“You good?” he asked, his own thumb tapping against the steering wheel to the beat of the music he had playing softly in the background. 

“Yeah, wind feels good,” you mumbled, smiling at him. He still had the cut on his cheek, eyeshadow dusted around it. Before you could stop yourself, you reached out a finger, tracing it slowly. 

“Is it real?” you asked, feeling his stubble under your fingertip. He laughed, tilting his head against your hand. 

“Nah. Real cuts aren’t so clean,” he explained, stopping the car at the red light. He turned his head to look at you, sitting relaxed in his passenger seat, all attention on him. You quickly pulled your finger back, and he pouted his lip just a little. 

“Bring it back, that felt good,” he said, starting up again as the light turned green. You scrunched your eyes, trying to see if he was being honest. You felt kinda silly, playing with his face like a kid. 

“I’m serious,” he added in, like he was reading your mind. You laughed, reaching back up to his face, letting your fingers rest on his cheek. 

“Can I ask you a question?” he asked, mouth moving your hand atop his face. 

You nodded before realizing he couldn’t see you while he was driving. 

“Yeah,” you responded, sitting up a little straighter in the seat. 

“Why’d you become a model?” he questioned, eyes flicking over to you. You pursed your lips, trying to figure out exactly how to give an answer. It wasn’t a hard question at all, but you didn’t know how much to tell Colson, not really knowing him too well. 

“I kinda fell into it. I was living on a friend’s couch and instead of paying for rent, she’d have me pose for photography practice. It felt good yanno? A few years later, I ended up modeling for a clothing company, and things just snowballed after that,” you rambled, eyes gazing out the windshield. The sky was a nice midnight blue, stars dotting ever so often. 

The streetlamps whizzed by as Colson drove down the freeway, one hand on the steering wheel, the other lying in between on top of the stick shift. 

“Why’d you become a rapper?” you asked, eyes focused on the soft taps of his fingers against the steering wheel. He looked over at you, bit his lip before saying, “Wanted to save people. Save myself.”

The silence settled in again, deep into your bones as you let his answer wash over you.

Turning your head back towards him, you catalogued his movements. Waiting another beat, you let your fingers creep towards his, inching to get closer. Grazing your index finger over his hand, you watched the hint of a smile appear on his face. 

“Mmm,” he mumbled out, turning his palm fully to meet yours. Bringing it up to his face, he dropped a kiss on your joined hands before throwing you a look. 

Licking your lips, the words fell out of your mouth before you could stop them, “Keep looking at me like that and I’ll cancel our plans for the rest of the night.” 

Giving you a look of confusion, Colson paused at the red light. “Whaddya mean?” he asks, the red highlighting the angles of his face. 

Looking down a little out of a sudden bout of embarrassment, you mumbled, “Uhm, like, if you look at me like that again, I’m gonna, you know, wanna do things with you.”

“Oh yeah? What kinda things?” he egged on, eyes moving back to the road as the light switched to green. 

“You know,” you mutter, catching his little snort.

“Nope. Tell me,” he pushes, tongue darting out to the side of his mouth. 

“I wanna fuck you,” you spit out, exasperated as he starts laughing at the wheel.

“God Y/N. You don’t know how badly I’ve wanted to get up all on you today,” he murmurs out a second later, shifting to focus on you.

“Why don’t you now?” you eagerly ask, moving in your seat. 

“Cause I’m supposed to be taking you out on a nice date,” he mutters, squeezing your fingers. 

You hesitate for a second and then you’re smiling as you exclaim, “Fuck the date. I kinda want you in me right about now.”

“Is that so?” he questions, eyebrows raising up. 

“Colson,” you softly let out, looking up straight at him.

“You serious?” he breathes out, and you nod, mind filling with thoughts about what you wanna do to him. 

“How bad do you want me right now?” he asks, voice deeper than before. 

“Scale of one to ten, a solid 20. You’ve been driving me crazy all day. I haven’t felt tension like that in a while,” you mumble, swinging your joined hands slightly. 

“Alright,” is all you get before the car suddenly swerves into a sharp turn. There’s a “hold on,” muttered and then you’re turning left onto a side road, houses lining the streets.  

-

The neighborhood is quiet, dark with a couple of street lamps flickering. Parked cars fill up the road and you spot a family eating dinner through one of the windows as Colson’s car creeps through the street. 

“What’re we doing here?” you whisper out. 

“Gimme a sec,” Colson whispers back before speeding up a little. Getting to the corner of the street, he stops. There’s a fire extinguisher and then right behind it, an empty parking spot. 

Winking at you, Colson throws his arm behind you, grabbing onto the headrest. Reversing the car, he backs up into the parking space before cutting off the engine. 

“I am not having sex in this car,” you blurt out, brain connecting the dots.

Colson smirks at you, unbuckling his seat belt. You glare at him for a second before moving out of your own seat. Awkwardly climbing over the front console, you dump yourself into his lap, arms wrapping over his shoulders. 

There’s a pause and then he’s settling you in, pulling you closer. His hands find home on your hips, gripping at your skin there. You widen your legs trying to get into a more comfortable position as he leans in. 

There’s a kiss, then two, and then you’re pressing into his lap against the bulge growing in his pants.

“Fuck. You’re a good kisser,” he mumbles out, in between the slow heat of your mouths. You grin, just a little. 

Pulling at the corner of his shirt, you tug it up a little, encouraging him to take it over. He does, and you grin before tossing it in the back.

Feeling him grow completely hard against you, you start moving in his lap. Grinding forward against the heat of his dick, you let out a moan at the slight friction. 

Taking in your moan, Colson breaks off the kisses, leaning in to drop his mouth to your neck. Nuzzling it slightly, he trails kisses up to your jawline as you continue to slowly move against the pressure. 

“Take your pants off,” you slowly pant out as he lavishes your neck with open mouth kisses. 

“Ask me nicely,” he mumbles, teeth tugging slightly at your ear.

“Pants. Please,” you tack on, as his fingers start moving up your back, pressing your further into him. 

Moving off of him, you hover, pulling off your own pants as Colson shrugs down his jeans. He pushes the driver’s seat back to give you both enough space. You laugh just a little at the thump it makes once the seat falls down. 

Bringing yourself back down, you sit on his bare thighs. Hands against his chest, pushing him back down. 

“Y/N wait,” he exclaims as you lean down to kiss him again. 

“Yeah?” you ask, suddenly feeling a little self conscious. It’s not like Colson hasn’t been posing with your half naked body all day, but this is different and you feel the nerves start to build up in your tummy. 

“Did you hear anything I just said?” he repeats, hands rising up to run through his hair. 

“No,” you admit, moving up almost off of him.

“I just wanted to grab the condoms before we forget,” he responds, getting up once your palms move off of his chest. 

“Oh yeah,” you respond, watching him reach over you to the glovebox. Pulling on it, he opens it up, sticking in a hand to feel around. 

“Fuck. I knew they were in here somewhere,” he starts, just as you say, “Here lemme look.”

Both of you move in at the same time, blindly searching for the strip of condoms. 

“Here!” he shouts, raising his head the exact moment you bring yours up. Both your foreheads bump into each other and you recoil slightly as he pushes an arm out to steady you. 

“Maybe this wasn’t the best idea,” he laughs as you rub on the spot where his head hit yours.

Pouting a little, you move down, kissing him softly, murmuring, “This is the best idea you’ve had all day.”

Bringing a hand up to his cheek, you stroke the little scruff he has as you start grinding on him again, only thing separating the two of you some underwear. 

Slyly taking the condoms out of his hand, you rip one off of the pack. Leaning back, you open it up as Colson lifts his hips, pulling at his boxers. 

Rolling the condom onto his dick, you kiss the side of his neck, whispering in his ear, “I’m so wet.”

He bites at your bottom lip as he moves his hand, pulling away your underwear, dipping his fingers in. Feeling the slickness, he brings them to your mouth. You let the tip of your tongue lick his finger, just as you seat yourself down slowly onto his dick.

Letting out a soft gasp, you move just a little trying to feel him out. Colson’s hands travel up your shirt, fingers catching on the pink lacy bra you’d stolen off of set. 

“You took this?” he mutters out, tracing the outline of the bra, palm resting on your bare skin.

“Mmhm,” you reply, leaning down to give him another kiss as you slowly move on his dick. 

Dropping his hands to your bare hips, he pulls you forward, setting the beat of your bodies in motion to a faster pace. 

Soft moans filled up the air, falling out of both of your mouths as your hips follow his in pursuit. You can feel the pressure start to build in your core, and you hold Colson down, hands firmly pressing into his chest. 

A few seconds more and then the electricity pulses through you as he tightens his grip on your waist. Hips stuttering, you hear his heavy breath followed by mumbled curses. 

Moving back a little, you take in a deep breath. Rolling off of him, you fix your underwear and pull your pants back on. He’s all laid back on the seat, watching you. 

As you plop into the passenger seat, legs feeling weak, you laugh at the fogged up windows. Turning to the side to draw a smiley face, you turn back to see Colson’s jeans on, seat up righted. His shirt’s still thrown somewhere in the backseats, and you take a few seconds to admire his tattooed torso in the dark. 

“Here,” he mumbles reaching over to the glovebox again. Pulling out a pack of baby wipes, he takes out a couple before tossing it over to you. 

“Thanks,” you respond softly, watching him run a cool wipe over his slightly sweaty face. Leaning in, he gives you another kiss, before bringing the wipe he was just using to your cheeks. 

“Colson,” you squeal, nudging him with your hands to push him back. 

“Y/N!” he mocks back, hands running along back to the steering wheel. Turning on the engine, he pulls smoothly out of the parking space as you gather your hair up into a ponytail.

“Where to?” he asks, hand scratching at his chest.

You wait a minute, thinking it through in your head before saying, “Back to the hotel?”

He throws you a slight look and you protest, “I’m exhausted. And we still have to shoot tomorrow. Early.”

There’s a nod, a small smile and then you’re cruising down the quiet streets again, heart settling as you come to terms with what just happened. It’s a sharp realization: you’ve fucked this up. 

#fuck!!!! #mgk imagine #mgk lyrics #mgk icons #mgk fanfic #mgk fanfiction #mgk fluff #mgk smut #mgk x reader #machine gun kelly imagine #machine gun kelly x reader #machine gun kelly fanfiction #machine gun kelly fanfic #machine gun kelly smut #machine gun kelly fluff #colson baker x reader #colson baker smut #colson baker fanfiction #colson baker fanfic #colson baker fluff #colson baker imagine #m writes 4 mgk #m-writes-4-mgk

[sugarydolli]

Orange Juice | [REPOST]

Title ~ Orange Juice

Word Count ~ 2k

Pairings ~ Leon x Chubby!reader

Warnings ~ Body shaming, Bullying

Okay but do y'all see my new icon like 🥰

Repost from my wattpad storie lulz lemme send link 🖇️ https://my.w.tt/KjSStSQYkbb

-

"Come on Y/N," junko smirked "hes never gonna like you if your fat, keep throwing it up." You pushed slightly on your stomach to trigger more vomit.

With Junko standing behind you, taunting you as your breakfast pushed passed your lips.

You could see Mukuro start gather tissue for you to wipe your mouth off with.

-

You sat in class one day as the teacher rambled about nothing you cared about. The sun ran over the curve of your cheeks and lit up your (E/C) eyes as you were deep in thought.

"What if I was smaller"

"Would I be prettier?"

"Would he notice me?"

Not even noticing that class was over until two particular known sisters made their way over to you.

Junko slapped her hand down on your desk taking you out of your thoughts. Her sinister smile was a clear warning of her intentions which were obvious to you.

You expected nothing but harsh words, more things to make you regret your weight. But she unexpectedly had other plans.

Junko came to you as if she wanted to help you. She said she could make you look pretty. In your desperate state of mind you accepted.

Ever since then her way of making "pretty" was meeting her outside of the bathroom every 2-3 hours, practically shoving you face into a toilet and forcing you to gag your meals.

-

"Hey Junko.." you said weakly, your stomach aching being the 5th week you skipped lunch. "Did you ever find out what type of girls Leon is into?"

She thought about it while she chewed her food. "Why of course I did, and you know what he told me?"

You were practically leaning over the table, dying to know what the baseball player told her. "He said and I quote, "tight waisted bimbos with huge tits" end quote."

It felt like a spear ran threw your heart as you sunk into deep thought. "I'm sure he'll like you for who you are rather than what your physical appearance is Y/N."

"You filthy liar! I told her exactly what he told me."

"But Junko I was right ther-"

"Shut up!"

The thoughts in your head shut you out from the twins bickering. Your mind festering on the idea of fitting into Leon's type.

The sadness you felt turned into determination. Thinking about how you can cut out a few more meals, and exercise even more times a day. Wearing extremely heavy hoodies in raging hot weather to shed.

You were determined by the end of this month you'd fit his standards.

"Junko,"

Standing up, you caught her attention before she shot another insult to Mukuro. "I think I'm ready now."

A large malicious smirk panned across her face, rising up from her seat. "Let's go."

-

You shoved two fingers down your throat, nearly missing your uvula. Not much at first shot out but as you progressed more and more came out as your throat burned.

Beginning to feel dizzy, you leaned against the bathroom stall. Not having the energy to continue the assault on your throat. Once you gained your composure you restarted, plunging fingering back into your throat. Murkuro held your hair back away from your face as Junko unbeknownst to you recorded your gagging.

You finished up rather quickly, wiping spit from the corner of your mouth. You rummaged through your backpack looking for your tooth brush.

You walked over to the sink ignoring a few girls who just walked in stares of confusion. The first thing you noticed was your cheeks, usually a soft looking round was now turning hallow.

Your body over all seemed to be getting slimmer over the past few weeks. So much so you'd start to get compliments and praised.

For once you've felt good about yourself, Confident.

...

Until, from an anonymous account you were exposed. Several videos of you forcing yourself to barf was posted on this account.

"This you?"

Mukuro texted you while you got dressed in your uniform. Sending the account.

As if the multiple videos weren't enough, pictures of your dazed expression began circulating. Tears threatened your eyes, you reported each video and picture one by one.

-/-

You went into school, head hung low as whispers and giggles could be heard around you.

You would look up to see several faces looking at you with disgust, some occasionally with pity.

Ultimately, you decided that you weren't gonna let this stop you from reaching your goal. Even if it was draining you.

Today being mile day in PE made you teensy bit woozy, but still you convinced yourself of the "benefits"

-

The long track taunted you, seeming like it stretched for miles. "You've never seen any interest in mile before, Y/N..are you sure." Your PE teacher placed a hand on your shoulder, giving you a understanding look.

You nodded gulping slowly before starting to sprint. At first it wasn't as bad (you told yourself) as you got about half way down the long course.

Your eyes were starting to get a bit heavy as you tried regulating your breath. The temperature only seemed to get hotter as you tried to block out the feelings.

"Was this a heat wave?" You asked your as you tried to push through. Darkness seemed to be clouding over your vision rather quickly.

And surely you passed out.

-

Condensation slid down your face making you wince. You blinked a few times before taking in the bright light on the ceiling.

You rose up quickly only to be pushed right back down. The school nurse, Mikan, giving a frighten shriek from your sudden movement.

"Please let me help you get up." Her worried tone, placing a hand on your back while you rose. "You passed out on the field." A quiver still in her voice.

Panic started to rise in your gut. "I..I did?" You didn't want to believe her words, seeing it more as an embarrassment than an health concern.

"A teacher carried you here with the help of a student." Mikan tried calming you down to prevent any other health problems.

Sadly her efforts wasted as you began to worry yourself on who the student was. Your nightmares only coming true when Leon suddenly walked through the door.

"Mikan is she alright? I heard talkin' and" Your eyes met sending a rush of pink to your cheeks. His pale blue orbs gazed into your F/C ones.

"Are you... alright?" Leon's gaze never leaving your eyes. Lips quivering to much for a verbal answer, you nodded.

Tears brimmed your eye line, you didn't want to met like this. This wasn't supposed to be this way. But his next words caught you off guard.

"Good. hate to see a pretty girl like yourself hurt." He followed up with a wink before sliding out of the office.

Awe casted on your face causing you jaw to open slightly. You were in shock, not even hearing Mikan rambling.

-

Once you were released from Mikan's office you headed to your locker. You managed to pick your jaw up off the floor but shock and awe still lingered.

You opened your locker open-mindedly. A small blush colored envelope fell out, you practically tore it open to see in somewhat messy handwriting:

A actual compliment..did I hit my head that hard? Am I in a coma?

Hey cutie ;), I'd call myself a hero for saving you today. How about you reward me with a little date later today?

- Leon

A squeal errupted from your mouth causing whoever around you a confused look. You were to caught up in your joy to even realize Junko and Mukuro making their way over.

A hand placed firmly onto your shoulder, turning you around to face them forcefully.

"Whaddya got there Y/N?"

Junko's tone too sweet for her own good, you held the letter up slowly in which she snatched it. "This has to be a fake." She said without looking.

Eyes widening, you look the letter back reading it over for any indications. The thought of this being some prank didn't even register to you.

"Well if you are going you know what you have to do" Her tone lowering to something darker. You have her a nod before once again walking to the dreadful bathroom.

You've grown tired of these plain walls as you stick a few fingers once again down your throat. Your senses activated causing you to hurl.

Junko chuckled, getting a sick sort of kick out your suffering. Mukuro narrowing her eyes at her sister, quickly sending a text to someone.

About five minutes later the sound of the bathroom door being slammed open caused you to rip your fingers out of your mouth.

Various shouts coming from behind the stall door as it was suddenly swung open. Leon stood in the frame with ishimaru not far behind.

The sudden appearance caught Junko off guard, almost dropping her phone. "Leon you can't just-" The short haired male turned his attention to the scene.

"Y/N...what are you doing?" Leon's face in confusion, you quickly wiped any remaining spittle off your chin before turning around completely.

Leon bent down, wiping your cheeks with his thumb. "I don't give a shit about your body, I like you just the way you are." He lifts you up, giving you a hug.

"Nothing, just a-" Junko was quick to cut you off. "A hard case of bulimia." Your hair fell down into your face, Junko continued to laugh.

She spoke in a bragging fashion as she told the two men of your dirty secret. Tears brimmed your lash line seeing Leon's eyebrows furrowed in disgust.

"And the funny part about it is...she it did all for you!" Leon's eyes widened, his mouth almost fell open as he quietly repeated her last few words.

"You told me that he likes small waisted girls and I-" a sob breaking your sentence, you fell down onto the bathroom floor sobbing uncontrollably. You felt hands gently pry your hands off your face.

Your usual small pink envelope fell right into your hands, causing a smile to stretch across your face.

You snuggle into his neck, now happy tears rolling down your cheeks.

- timeskip brought to you by the iconic cheez duo -

- about a month later

"You know, Princesses are usually found in castles. How'd I meet you here?"

Cheesy. You smirk to yourself before feeling large arms wrapped around you. Leon placed a kiss to your temple, filling spinning you around for a kiss to the lips.

"I guess the answer to your question would be, sometimes princesses get bored for waiting on their prince." Leon chuckled, sneaking in another kiss. "Well, it's not easy  finding the right princess."

His hand instinctively latched onto your as you two walked down the hall to your first period.

-

Leon doesn't like you cause of your skin, your weight, or your face. He likes you because of you.

-

Uhh I know the themes in this got like really fucking dark and usually I don't like to to talk about these topics cause all around this is supposed to be a happier book and shit like that but it was actually requested of me once before.

I thought it was time to get out of my comfort zone and address this. You all are beautiful no matter what you look like, your body doesn't define you!! Your beauty inside and out. And if anyone tells you otherwise me and cheez will beat the- I mean kindly slap them around with kindness.

Anyways I love you all and everyone around you should to! You don't have to fit into what someone wants you to for them to love you. If they really love you, they'd love you for you! Appearance doesn't matter in love!! ((Praying I'm saying the right things))

And it is okay if you do wanna change how look. Just use the reader as an example not to do, please don't hurt yourself or take the easy route. Please choose healthy and non harmful ways to improve on your already beautiful self.

I'm really not good at this so I hope this little message didn't offend, comfort is nawt my strong suit BUT I love you all tremendously and I'll always be here no matter what.

- Cheez it chan & Cheez <3

-

#leon kuwata x reader #danganronpa leon kuwata #dr1 #leon kuwata #leon #danganronpa kuwata #kuwata #danganronpa x reader #danganronpa 1 #danganronpa #tw ed mention #tw ed content #tw bulemia #tw eating disorder #tw bullying #tw vomit

[hanamakkiss]

Pros and Cons

Matsukawa Issei x reader

summary: Being childhood friends with Oikawa and Iwaizumi had few perks, it's all worth it when one of those perks came in the form of one(1) Matsukawa Issei.

Where Matsukawa gets a nickname.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

a/n: yall rmb y/n talking about a hot vb boy? yea also makki is a lil shit but everyone loves him  UPDATE: reuploaded sorry😓😓😓

You had made it a point to visit trainings whenever you were free now.

Always popping up whenever the coaches left, Matsukawa’s eyes were instinctively drawn to you when you entered, not that it was hard, considering how much ruckus you made.

After greeting everyone generally, you spent some time chatting with OIkawa when you head whips around to-

Kyoutani?

Oh right, this would be the first time you met him after anticipating it for so long. Matsukawa gestures to Makki about your actions and the two of them pause to watch the show.

Prancing over to the cropped blonde, excitement coming off in waves, "Kyouken! I've heard so much about you! I-"

"Stay away from me." he practically growled.

You froze in your tracks.

"Huh?" your head tilts, taking a step towards him.

"Why?"

Another step.

The growling intensifies, "Or else."

"Or else what? What are you going to do to me?"

Another step.

You're standing directly in front of him now, eye to eye. The sound of balls impacting a gym floor has ceased. Matsukawa tenses, holding his breath.

A second passes, then five.

Kyoutani turns and sprints out of the gymnasium.

Jolted by the sound of feet slamming against the floor, you turn around, head resting on your palm, "Oh dear, I don't think he likes me very much. What a pity," you basically spat the last word out. The contrast between your words and your sinister smile sends shivers down his spine.

Wow. He lets out a low whistle, that sure was something. For a second there, you had the same menacing aura Oikawa sometimes sported. He doesn't know if the stuttering of his heart was fear or attraction.

Somewhere nearby he hears Oikawa's laughter get cut off by a yelp and a stern warning. ("I told you to stop influencing her! Now look at how weird she is!")

Makki comments what he thought, “What, the fuck?”

“Amazing, isn’t she? I thought her that mysELF-“ Oikawa is cut off by a blow to the stomach.

“Shut up, stop looking so proud of yourself, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi scowls.

By this time you had made your way back to them, all smiles. “Sure hope I get to talk to him again someday,”

Makki snorts his water out.

The morning for the study session arrives.

As Matsukawa strolls to your house, he briefly wonders how the day might go. He figures it might become a little awkward if it was just the two of you, so he's thankful that Makki would be present.

Your house comes into view when the devil himself texts him.

He doesn't have to wait long before he got his answer. Just as he presses the doorbell, his phone chimes again.

Ah fuck. He doesn't even have time to curse him before the door is swinging open.

"Hi," you greet him, "welcome, to my humble abode," you usher him in with a flourish.

Ah shit, he takes off his shoes, here we fucking go.

Making his way to your bedroom he takes note of the frankly absurd number of houseplants that filled the place. Every free window, corner and crevice was stuffed with greenery. He vaguely remembers a flourishing garden in the front yard too.

Entering your room was no different, every available space on your desk and windowsill had small succulents and tiny flowering plants. He takes a moment to study while you set up the floor table.

“Doesn’t... having a lot of plants diminish your oxygen level at night...?” Your head whips around, scowl already in place.

“That’s just a myth. Plants don’t produce enough carbon dioxide at night to suffocate, otherwise how would forest animals survive?” The agitation with which you reply clues him in that you got this question too often.

“Also, if that works I would have already died,” you add on as an afterthought.

His eyebrows shoot upwards as he blinks slowly, “Um, alright, good to know?”

You grin in response, patting the floor next to you, “Sorry about the mess, I don’t have many friends who visit,”

“Judging by how much time you spend with us, I was starting to think you didn’t have any others,” he teases, eager to clear the awkward air.

“Eh, that’s true,” you shrug, “you guys are kind of my only friends in Seijoh,”

Oh shit, did he just overstep? He cringes inwardly when you interrupt.

“Why else would I spend so much time with a bunch of idiots?” the playfulness of your tone allows him to relax.

“Considering how well you mesh with us, doesn’t that make you an idiot too?”

Your smile drops, making a noise of indignation as your own joke is played against you. He just laughs as he avoids your smack, opening his textbook.

The previous conversation still weighing on his mind, he contemplates asking you about it.

“What is it.” You don’t even look up.

“What?”

“I can feel you staring at me, and your finger tapping is really loud,” looking up, you scrunch your face at him. “If you wanna say something, just say it.”

“Mmmhm alright then, if you don’t mind, are you on bad terms with your classmates?”

You stare back blankly, “Not...as far as I know?”

“Do you not hang out with any of them?” Are you not friends with them? You sense the unasked question.

“Well...” you trail off for a few moments, contemplative, before looking him in the eyes, grimacing.

“It’s... kind of due to Kawa?” at his confusion you rush to explain, “Not that he did anything! It’s more of... us being so close? Even platonically,” you scratch the back of your neck.

“They’re nice until they find out I’m close friends with Kawa and Iwawa. Then they either outright hate me, or get close to me in hopes of a better chance with him. Not all of them are like that though! But, at a certain point it’s easier to avoid that problem entirely rather than sifting through. Some girls look really nice, I just don’t know how to talk to them, I transferred in so late, after all.” you laugh sheepishly.

He hopes he isn’t letting his indignation show on his face.

“Does he know?”

“God no, that’s kind of a bastard thing to do, isn’t it? Hey, did you know I can’t have any girl friends cause they’re all crazy over you? That’s kind of fucked up yea? He can’t even do anything about it.” You wave a hand in the air, dismissing the idea.

“What about Iwaizumi,” he tries.

An incredulous look, “You think he would understand that? He barely even looks at girls! Actually, now that you mention it, a sizeable portion of the girls who befriended me had a crush on him. Guess it’s because he’s intimidating,” you nod along to your own words.

“So you’ve just been alone this time?” He can’t wrap his head around it.

“I haven’t been alone! I’ve got you guys, don’t I? I wouldn’t change that for anything,”

The look of happiness you pin him with causes his heart to flutter, but he’s not entirely convinced.

Sensing his unease you soften, “Besides, there’s only a few more months left, I can handle it,”

He exhales his frustration, letting the topic go. Nothing much he could help with anyway. The only thing he could do now was stay by your side, if you need him.

“Thank you for your concern,” You pat his hand comfortingly, the sides of your lips tug upwards, and you speak the next words gravely. “But,” breath bated, he waits for you to continue.

“sometimes, it really do be like that.”

He attempts to flip the table, causing you to scramble for cover, choking on your laughter as you do.

The two of you fall into a steady rhythm, asking each other questions here and there.

A few hours pass when both phones chime, breaking your concentrations, “Oh! Makkun’s at the convenience store now, whaddya want?”

He tells you his order and while you type it in, he observes your figure.

You’ve got a thing for nicknames, he’s always wondered about it.

“Hmm? What? Oh, yea, I guess I do, what about it?” Looking up, your gaze is pointed.

“Huh?” Shit, did he say that out loud?

“You said I got a thing for nicknames? What about it?” You leaned towards him, a teasing grin forming.

He feels himself begin to instinctively draw back before forcing himself to still. “Just like Oikawa, was what I meant.”

At this, your grin deepens, “Well, duh. Who do you think he got it from?”

Interesting. He nods in understanding.

“Well,” he drags the word out, mirroring your grin, “you don’t have a unique nickname for me, are we not close enough?”

Your smile turns into an O as you process his words. He’s right, you never really thought about it.

“Huh. I guess not. Do you want one?”

Stupid of him to admit, but he didn’t expect you to ask him that, and he takes a moment to decide. Did he want a special nickname from you? Is that asking too much? Moving too fast? Just as he’s about to reply, you make the choice for him.

“You know what? I’m gonna give you one anyway. Just give me some time to think.”

He just shrugs, accepting, and goes back to doing his work.

Some time passes and he sneaks a glance at you. A cute furrow nestled between your brows, you doodled in your notebook.

“I’ve got it!” You slam your hands on the table, shifting to place more weight on your knees, leaning far across the table now.

His pencil slips out of his hands from the sudden eye contact.

“How about,” you pause for effect, so close now he could count the light freckles on your cheeks, “Issei?”

The sound of his name coming out of your lips causes his brain to short-circuit. He never knew it could sound so sweet.

“Well?” You probe, “It’s kind of a cop out but I like how it sounds,” you sound it out a few more times with different intonations.

He thinks he might die.

“Hey, you okay? If you don’t like it you can let me know, yanno?”

“It’s fine,” he chokes out, “go ahead.”

“Great! Then-“

The doorbell rings.

“Oh! He’s here! Be right back!” You don’t wait for a reply before leaving.

Matsukawa has never been more thankful for Makki’s impeccable timing. Lucifer used to be an angel, he supposes.

He passes a hand over his face, willing his cheeks to cool down.

He composes himself just in time for Makki and you to enter.

Makki lets out a hum of appreciation, “Mad oxygen in here,”

He turns to you, “Say, isn’t it bad for you at night?”

“Oh my god, do the two of you share one braincell?”

#matsukawa issei x reader #matsukawa issei #matsukawa x reader #haikyuu x reader #matsukawa imagines

[lemonyellowlogic]

the harder the rain, the sweeter the sun: chapter twenty-six

masterlist

first

previous 

-o-

chapter twenty-six: the thieves

The group of seven walked into the village and the fear they had of being noticed melted away, as almost no one paid them the thought of mind, other than shopkeepers who tried to get them to see their products.

The marketplace was bustling, and so the addition of seven somewhat strange people wasn’t even noticeable. 

Remy turned to them all, “Alright, kids, Emile and I will go to the inn and figure out rooms, meanwhile, you five entertain yourselves, I don’t care how. Just don’t, “They counted out on their fingers, ”Get arrested, expose yourselves, or start any fights, alright?”

Patton nodded his head as the other four grumbled, annoyed.

“That’s good enough for me.”

As the adults walked away, Patton turned to his friends, “So, what’d you guys wanna do first?”

Logan hummed, “Find some food.” while Diego muttered, “Steal some shit.”

Patton gasped astonished, “Diego!”

“What?” The boy asked, ”It wouldn’t hurt anyone!”

“It would in fact ‘hurt anyone’, specifically the shop owner and possibly you and the rest of us if you’re caught.” Logan pushed up his glasses with an eye roll. 

“Come on! V, Ro, you’re on my side, right?”

“I-” Roman cut himself off as Logan glared at him, daring him to answer. Roman paused for a moment, before grinning back, “Actually, I’m on Diego’s side.”

Virgil smirked, leaning his elbow on Roman’s shoulder, “3-2, Lo.”

Logan’s shoulders hunched, and Roman was positive that if he had his wings out that they would be fully extended.

“Fine. Yo three...hooligans do whatever you please. Patton and I will do something else.”

Patton bit his lip, “Okay. Don’t get in trouble and meet us here in an hour!”

Diego grabbed Virgil and Roman by the arms, leading them away as he called over his shoulder, “We won’t,” before flashing a grin at the other two, “We will.”

---

“Excuse me, ma’am, how much would this necklace happen to cost?”

A woman in her middle age turned towards the boy, an eyebrow cocked as he looked at the necklace. It was a boring pink heart, shining with glass crystals embedded into the metal, “A few hundred, why?”

Roman hummed, “Well, I was thinking of buying something like it for my love, but I don’t know if she’d be happy with me spending just that much, how much would that one in the back be?”

He pointed at none in particular, and she turned to see, the heart necklace in her hand. Quickly, Diego popped up and grabbed two pendants, one with a serpent and a purple dragon, that she had laid out far away from Roman.

As she turned back, Diego popped down, handing the necklaces to Virgil who smirked from where he sat under the table.

“Which one?”

The woman asked around her cigar, holding up a necklace of a beautiful pale blue fish sculpted from glass and a small bird molded from thin metal. Roman’s eyes lit up, “How much are each?”

“Ehhh, twenty gold for them both.”

“I’ll take it!

“Great,” She huffed, bagging the two and holding her hand out. Roman fished exactly twenty pieces of gold from his pouch and handed them to her. She counted them out and nodded, handing Roman his purchase. He grinned and walked away, Diego following him.

They had gotten around fifteen feet away when they heard a screech, “Who are YOU and what are you doing under my table?!”

Virgil bolted out, the necklaces dangling from his fingers as he ran, a large grin plastered on his face. Roman and Diego began chasing after him, laughing as they went.

No guards followed them, there were none in the village. Roman hadn’t felt as free as he did then in years. The three boys eventually stopped running, right at the meet-up point. 

Diego bent over to catch his breath while Virgil loudly cackled, tears running for his eyes and his free arm wrapped around his stomach. They both looked back up at Roman together, and Roman’s face grinned the same way their's did. A pink flush lay on his cheeks, and he didn’t know what caused it, the running or their smiles.

“What’d you buy, Ro?”

“Just some necklaces, thought I’d give them to Pat and Lo.” He held up the bird and fish necklaces, and Virgil cackled, “Oh my god, Logan is going to hate that.”

“I know.”

Diego smirked, “Well, I got the dragon and the snake for us two, but I got something for you too, Ro.”

Roman cocked a brow, “Really.”

Diego nodded, “Yep,” Holding up a necklace of a small red crown, “Your boring ass deserves something special.”

Roman paled at the sight of the crown, but smiled anyway, “T-thanks, Dee.”

Diego handed Roman the necklace, and he shakily put it around his neck, hiding the crown under his shirt.

Diego and Virgil did the same, and as they did, Patton and Logan walked up, Patton happily eating an ice cream cone as Logan grumpily walked forward.

Patton waved, “Hi! Whaddya guys do?”

“We stole things.”

“Virgil!” Roman whisper-shouted as Patton paled.

“Really? Oh gosh, did you get in trouble? Oh no, are there any guards or anyone? Oh goodness, we’re-”

Diego stepped in, “Don’t worry, we were caught but we’re fine. There aren’t any guards or whatever, plus…” He motioned towards Roman with his hands.

“Oh, yes.” Roman held the necklaces out towards the two, “We got these for you.”’

Patton looked at them and then at Roman’s face, a smile splitting his face, “Really?”

Roman smiled, “Truly.”

Logan glared at the piece of jewelry, “Hmm. Fine, thank you, human.”

Roman gave a fake look of shock, “What do you mean human, Logan? Aren’t we all?”

Virgil snorted and Diego just rolled his eyes, ignoring Logan's huff and Patton’s tired sigh. Roman cocked a grin,“It’s no problem, Logan,” And the avian rolled his eyes, turning away from him after slipping the necklace on.

“Oh good, you're all still here!” Emile walked up towards the five, “We rented a house for the week, follow me!”

—-

Hours later, the three thieves were sitting at the dining room table, as Emile lectured them, Logan and Patton standing in the corner watching. The glamours had worn off, and so Emile’s very rustled wings were very easy to notice.

“You did what now?” Emile asked, his eyebrows far up his forehead and eyes wide.

“It’s fine, all we did was steal some necklaces, Em.”

“It’s not fine, Diego! You all could've been arrested, and then what would've happened if your glamours wore off? You’d’ve been hurt, or killed!”

He pinched his brow, pacing back and forth, “Everytime I ask you boys to follow any simple rules, they’re immediately broken.”

Roman, Virgil, and Diego all stared at the table in front of them, guilt bubbling like a potion in Roman’s stomach as Logan snickered in the corner.

“Oh and don’t you two be acting all high and mighty over there!” Emile turned to Patton and Logan, Patton looking just as guilty as Roman felt as the smirk melting off of Logan’s face.

Logan raised an eyebrow, “Why are we in trouble? We didn’t do anything, the three of them were the ones who stole.”

Remy placed a hand on their shoulders, “It’s because you didn't stop them, guys.”

“B-but we attempted to! Votes were 3-2 and they were persistent so we decided to let them be!”

“We told you guys not to split up, and you’ve met Ro, he’s a push-over.”

Roman’s head shot up, “No, I’m not!”

Logan’s head swiveled over, “You do whatever someone tells you to, because you’re scared of them.”

Roman stood up, “No, I don’t!”

Logan’s wings rose high, “Yes, you do, you cowardice human!”

“Oh, that is it, bird-boy! I swear to-”

Emile stood, shouting and slamming their hand on the table, their winged spread even further and higher than Logan’s, “Enough! We will not fight at this table! We are going to be polite and not use other’s races as an insult! Do you understand, boys?”

Roman stared at him, his eyes narrowed, “Fine, we made a mistake, okay? We were bored, don’t drag Logan or Patton into it, they were doing the right thing. I’m going to my room.”

He stalked out the room, knocking his shoulder purposefully against Logan’s as he walked out and up the staircase. Logan growled, but it wasn’t heard over Remy’s shout, “Hey, we’re not done talking!”

“I am!”

A door slammed upstairs, and the room went silent. Emile pinched their nose bridge and sighed loudly, their wings drooping to their side.

“Alright, then. Boys,” The four teenagers turned to look at Emile, Patton and Virgil sheepish while Diego and Logan annoyed, “Please go to your rooms.”

“Which ones are our rooms? How many are there?”

“We have three, one for Rem and I, and the rest of you divide amongst yourselves. I’m done.”

Emile slapped the table with their free hand and stalked up the stairs, wings taught, and Remy followed him, shaking their head at the teenagers as they walked away, the entire room silent as they closed their door.

Virgil looked at the others, “Who wants to room with the grump cause we’re gonna have to go three to a room.”

Diego looked up, “Virge, you and I can.”

Patton spoke up, “Nope! I’m not gonna let y’all run off again!” He crossed his arms, firm.

“We’re not gonna run off, Patton! We’ll be fine. Come on, V.”

Diego grabbed Virgil’s hand, who blushed as he was pulled up the stairs by the scaled boy, “Uh, okay! Sorry, Pat!”

Patton and Logan stood alone, and Patton huffed, annoyed. “Fine then. It’s not my fault if they get in trouble. I’m just trying to help, can’t they see that?”

“I think they can, but they unfortunately don’t want it and it’s then our job to have to babysit our peers.”

Patton rested his head on Logan’s shoulder, the avian stiffening before relaxing, resting his own on the merperson.

“I think it’ll be alright eventually though. Remy and Emile are still mad at all of us for some reason, however. We should just start unpacking.”

“Okay.” Patton stood, stretching his back and groaning as it popped.

The two walked into their room ignoring the annoyed voices coming from both of the other rooms and quietly entering their own.

-o-

next

#lemon talks #lemon writes #thtrtsts #thtrtsts spoilers #sanders sides #ts sides #thomas sanders #dlamp #remile #roman sanders #patton snaders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #deceit sanders #janus sanders #remy sanders #emile picani

[buckyownsmyheart]

Training Day and The Bet [one-shot]

⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎⁎

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 1,500+

Summary: There is only one way to settle a bet. Spoiler - it involves sexual tension and an extreme game of laser tag

Warnings: miniscule amounts of swearing

A/N: This is for @itsbuckysworld summer writing challenge! Massive thank you for letting me take part. The prompt was "What can I say, I have a weakness for people that can lift me over their heads”, and I had an absolute blast writing it!

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This was it. The time that everyone was waiting for. The first Friday of every month. Training Day. Where the entire team played a game under the premise that it would help teambuilding and tactics. Last month, the team tried their hand at go karts (obviously to aide their get-away driving), the month before that had been paint-balling. Others included capture the flag and a particularly intense game of hide-and-seek with a twist. The twist being the sniffer dogs that Tony deployed unexpectedly. 

Today was laser tag and this was the game that mattered the most because of the bet that had been going on between you and your fellow Avenger, Bucky Barnes. Since you joined the team 2 years ago, you had formed a strong love-hate relationship with the man, and it had only intensified with time. So maybe you wished the relationship was more love, but there was no way that you would admit that you often dreamt of the way his muscles rippled in the gym, or the way his eyes sparkle after he’s told a corny joke, and how you ask him to plait your hair, just so you can relish in the feeling of his fingers scratching at your scalp. That was a secret you would take to the grave, and at least your current friendship allowed you to spend more time together, even if it was to make jibes at the other. 

It all started in one of the first training days that you had participated in. You had headed one of the teams and Bucky led the other. You narrowly won, and after many untrue accusations of cheating, a rematch was set for the next month, and the month after that, until a bet was set. The first to win 10 games won the bet. If you won, you got his prized Harley Davidson motorcycle. However, if he won, he got your room. Your room was well renowned by the Avengers to be the best in the compound. It had the best view, looking over the forest with the sea in the distance, and the fact that it was next to the swimming pool was an added bonus. There was absolutely no way in hell you were letting him have it. You were currently running at an 9 all tie, meaning that this match was the decider.

With Natasha and Sam away on mission, your team consisted of Steve, Bruce and Peter. Bruce often played a key planning role, but on the field, he was a bit of a liability, and refused to answer to code green. Peter often got distracted. Apparently, he needed full on violence with a detailed backstory to be able to fight a fight. So, there was that. You couldn't trust Steve not to take Bucky's side, no matter how much he promised not to, meaning you were in a bit of a dilemma.

Bucky's team was Tony, Rhodey and Clint. Rhodey was the one who had recruited you after a particular tour in the marines, but no matter how hard you tried to persuade him to spy for you, he refused. Damn his loyalty and good morals. Tony was no use either, he couldn't be bribed and was far too competitive against Steve to let you win. Your last hope was Clint, who was pretty useless in these games; he usually hid in the vents before swooping down in the last minute and claiming victory. 

Both teams were sitting in the briefing room where you and Bucky were going through the rules.

"No cheating," Bucky listed, "No tampering with the electric vests, no powers."

"No external influences," you cut in, staring pointedly at Tony, "Canine or otherwise. You know the rest, team footloose with me to talk tactics."

"Team hotshot we’ll stay here.”

Once you gathered in your respective teams, the plan was set into motion. Peter was already giving everyone codenames; he had been watching lots of James Bond recently and was getting very much into it. You were Eagle, and to be honest, you were pretty chuffed with it. Bruce was Eeyore, for his docile manner and maintenance of a realistic, if somewhat pessimistic, outlook on life. Steve was Eton Mess, due to his blonde hair, pale complexion and now slightly burnt nose from a mission the week before, and Peter was Excel. The reasoning behind that is unclear. You think he just really likes Excel.

"Alright," you began, "You all know how important this is to me. Bucky cannot win, under any circumstances. There's a lot riding on this, and if he gives me one of his damn smug smirks, someone will die. He's beyond competitive and will take any opportunity to rub it into our faces."

"Come on, (Y/n)," Bruce said, "You're just as competitive as he is!"

"That's absurd, I'm far more competitive and you know it." You stated, before continuing with the plan. "Peter, you're gonna go all sticky on those vents and flush out Clint, I turned off his hearing aids this morning, so it'll be easier for you to sneak up on him. Bruce, I need you to try and engage with Rhodey, distracting him with talks of peace and all that shit, before taking him out. Steve, I need you on Tony. He'll be flying high in the suit, trying to suss out the plan from above. You need to lay low until he hits the ground, and then take him out once he gets cocky. I'm going to take down Bucky, and he will suffer."

⁎⁎⁎

Half an hour in, and the plan was working. Mostly. Peter had successfully taken out Clint, but Tony had managed to shoot Bruce from above before he could talk to Rhodey. Steve shot Rhodey in the distraction, but Tony got him too. You had managed to shoot Tony whilst he came down to gloat to Steve. You had allowed yourself a small smirk before finding Bucky. Peter was still hidden in the vents and had taken to talking in your ear at a rapid pace.

"Eagle! Eeyore said that bird's eye view was the easiest option, so maybe we should rendezvous at East exit where Eton Mess was eliminated, Excel over."

"That was a hell of a lot of E's there, Parker," you spoke quietly into the comms. "We're gonna need to clarify these codenames because we are barrelling towards a misunderstanding."

The comforting weight of the rifle in your arms allowed you to focus on the task ahead, whilst ignoring Peter’s blabbering into the radio. You stalked along the side of the building, holding your breath. As you were about to round the corner, you saw him. Bucky was stood behind a low wall, pointing his rifle over the top and very much on guard. He made a move towards the building that you had been heading for, and you pointed your gun to aim at him. As you looked down your sights, you saw Peter also pointing his gun at Bucky.

"No!" You shouted, hurtling towards Bucky. You barely registered Bucky's shocked face before you lifted him over your shoulder in a fireman's lift, and slammed him against the wall he had been standing behind moments before. You'd be damned if after all this you weren't going to be the one to take Bucky down. You needed as much gloating material as possible. Before you could act further, Bucky threw you against a make-shift boulder, pressing his entire body against yours. As he pinned you down, you felt an unmistakeable hardness against your upper thigh, and you had to fight hard to keep a smile under control.

"What are you doing?" He growled.

"Wanted to make sure I was the one who shot you," you smirked, "But now it seems I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place." You raised an eyebrow and peered down at the offending appendage.

Bucky moved back from you, his eyes wide. A pink blush dusted his cheeks and the tips of his ears. Despite his clear embarrassment, he let out a gentle laugh.

"It would be so much less hassle if you two just kissed and got it over with," Tony interrupted your moment. He had clearly given himself access into your comms as well. In response, before Bucky could do anything, you pushed him back onto the opposite wall, pressing yourself into him, and leaned close to his ear.

"Whaddya say, Sarge?" you whispered, making sure your breath reached his neck, and relished when goose bumps appeared, "Don't tell me you haven't thought about it."

"What can I say, I have a weakness for people that can lift me over their heads." He murmured back, his lips moving against your neck as his deep voice reverberated through you. He dropped his rifle and wound his arms around your waist.

Before he could get a grip on you, you stepped back, aimed your rifle at his chest and fired. His vest lit up red, the lights flickering to show he had been killed, and you were victorious. You couldn't help the smug smile that formed on your face as the look of shock and subsequent rage laced Bucky's features.

You turned, and before strutting away, you called over your shoulder. "At least ask me out first, and to think I thought you were a gentleman!” You paused for emphasis, turning slightly in his direction to gauge his reaction, “I've recently acquired a new mode of transport though, so I can come pick you up." And with a joyful laugh and a wink in his direction, you went to join the rest of your team, swinging your rifle over your shoulder. Boy did victory feel good. Nearly as good as Bucky pressed up against you, but that was for another time.

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#ibwradsummer19 #bucky x reader #bucky barns x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky imagine #avengers #paintballing

[cheswirls]

it’s your extension (let me extend) 5/6

ace runs.

he runs as fast as he can. overhead, the comet soars, moving a million miles faster than he is.

he meets kidd at the factory. the powerplant. the entire village’s electrical grid. comes to a stop, slamming into the chainlink, still panting, when he rolls up on his motorbike.

“he says sorry about your bike,” ace calls. kidd cuts the engine.

“who says?”

“i do!” ace corrects.

kidd throws his duffel to the ground, takes out a pair of heavy-duty pliers. “you’re sure about this, ace?” he questions, one last time, a hard glint in his eyes. “that thing’s really coming down?” he points to the comet with the tool.

ace nods fervently. “saw it myself,” he swears.

kidd cackles. “you did, huh? alright, fine.” he steps forward, positions the pliers around the chain lock. “get ready!” he clips it and it falls to the ground, slack. “this means we’re criminals now!”

“you still have to convince your dad!” kidd calls back, loud over the bike’s engine. ace tightens his grip, nodding.

“yeah, i know!” he cocks his head back. “think that thing’s really gonna blow?”

“i sure hope so!” kidd yells. right as he finishes, an explosion echoes from behind them. ace screams, lunges forward, and kidd laughs, steadying his trembling hands on the handles of the motorbike. “whaddya know! dad taught me well, huh!”

“you’re crazy!” ace screams.

“says the guy who came up with this scheme!” kidd screams back.

he skids to a stop when they reach stairs, not risking going down them. ace jumps off, but kidd waits an extra second, caught with the bike’s momentum. ace stumbles on the stairs, glances back. “kidd!” he calls in panic, but kidd’s rolling to a stand too, the bike upturned behind him. 

“good, good!” he gasps, grabbing ace’s arm to pull him forward. “c’mon! let’s go, let’s go!”

the power cuts out. all the bombs he and kidd had set at the plant had blown, shot the circuits to bits. ace takes a deep breath as they round the corner into the festival square, booths no longer lit. no comet. not yet. they wouldn’t go for it. he had to settle for something more realistic.

“forest fire!” kidd calls, just as the emergency sirens begin ringing out. “there’s a fire, we have to evacuate! hurry!”

“this is fuusha city council. due to the explosive at the power plant, there’s been a warning of forest fires and other explosions. if you live in the following districts, please evacuate immediately to fuusha high school.”

“fire!” ace calls, sprinting after kidd. “please evacuate! there’s a fire coming!”

he can see it’s not working. the people look confused, and the sirens have them on edge, but they’re not moving. lami’s voice rings out, perfect calm even though she must be terrified. she reminds him so much of-

ace stops dead in his tracks.

kidd whips around. “this isn’t working. we really do need city council to-” his face screws up. “ace, what’s wrong?”

ace doesn’t cry. he doesn’t cry unless things are very emotional, like when dragon left, or when he met sabo for the first time, tonight. he’s not the crier. he doesn’t cry.

he’s crying.

“his name!” he blabs, frantic. “i can’t remember his name!”

kidd’s expression darkens. “are you fucking kidding me!” he yells. his hands wrap around ace’s shoulders. “ace! forget about that! we have bigger problems here, right?!”

ace’s body shakes with effort as he works to keep his sobs contained. “but-! but-” he shakes his head. then he pushes kidd’s hands off, roughly. he slaps his own face hard, twice, thrice. “sorry!” he shouts. “i’ll go, i’m going!” he starts running. kidd takes off in the opposite direction. “i’ll make it!” he promises. “i promise!”

“you better!” kidd calls.

-

“hey! what do you think you’re doing in the broadcast room?”

lami cuts off with a scream, panicking. “i- uh- i-” three teachers storm in. one councilman grabs her wrist. another turns the broadcast off.

“seriously, trafalgar,” one of the teachers huffs, marching her down the hall. “what were you thinking? do you have any idea of the consequences-”

lami walks between them, tears streaming down her face, audibly crying. “s-sorry,” she says, but it’s not to them. “sorry, ace,” she chokes. “i’m sorry!”

-

kidd glances up and his heart stops. “it’s really splitting,” he mutters. and not just in half. there were dozens of little comets, meteorites, lighting up the sky now. 

“kidd!”

he comes to a full stop, wincing. he cocks his head over, and his dad is coming to meet him down a set of stairs. a couple of his workers are behind him.

“sorry, ace,” he mutters. “this is it for me.”

-

the broadcast cuts out and ace curses. “no! shit! lami!” he cries. please be okay!

he tears down the street, taking the higher ground, knowing the path to the council building by heart, whether he wanted to or not. he passes by a railing, where the ground jutts, and glances up. the comet! how much ti-

no!

he looks up to a meteor shower. they were almost out of time.

he speeds up, but his foot catches on the uneven ground, and he trips, tumbles. he lands on the ground hard, air knocked from him, and then rolls downhill, until he hits another jutt, flips, crashes to the ground.

he lies there, trying to remember to breathe again. his head spins. his hands are in front of him.

he curls into himself. he was too late anyway, right? it wouldn’t work, right? he couldn’t outspeed a bunch of falling rocks. the plan didn’t work none of it worked-

“so we don’t forget our names when we wake up.”

ace breathes out, slow. he uncups his hand. that was right. his name was right-

he stares.

his name isn’t written on ace’s hand.

his lips tremble. “idiot!” he gasps. 

i love you is written in marker.

ace fists his hand, sobs into the gravel. “how am i supposed to remember your name with this!” he cries out, impossibly loud. he lies there for another moment, another, another.

then he pushes himself to his knees, lips stretched into a smile. he wails, laughs, comes to a stand. 

“okay!” he calls out, starting to run again.

“fine!”

“i’ll do it!”

“i’m going to LIVE!”

-

“dad!” ace calls, slamming dragon’s door open. luffy perks up from the couch, clambering to his feet. garp looks over as well.

from behind his desk, dragon stands. “ace!” he growls. “listen, i don’t have time for-”

ace sets his face, stalks closer, and dragon shuts up.

“no. you are going to listen to me,” ace shouts. “for once in your goddamn life! because i’m not dying again!”

-

the meteor still crashes.

the nucleus of the comet hits right behind ace’s house, near the torii gate that leads further into the side of the mountain. 

the ground breaks. wood from whole tree trunks flies everywhere. the lake water evaporates into steam, and then crumbles under the weight of multiple little meteors that had broken off of the nucleus.

sabo wakes up.

sabo wakes up on top of a mountain.

he sits up. the sun is shining behind him. the water from the twin lakes down far, far below glitters.

he looks down at his palm, where a streak of ink was left. he squints.

“where am i?” he mumbles.

-

five years later

“what’s with the suit? party’s not til tonight.”

sabo pauses right inside the doorway, hand still holding it half closed. he deadpans, resists the reply he wants to say. “i’m not wearing this to the party,” he says instead, finally shutting the front door. shanks’ expression still doesn’t change, seeking an answer, and after shuffling off his shoes sabo sighs and supplies him with one. “i had a job interview today.”

“oh?” shanks steps aside to allow sabo access to the rest of the apartment, but then immediately follows at his heels. “how’d that go?”

sabo stops, resisting the urge to fidget, and shanks barely avoids crashing into him. they stand still in the middle of the hall for a couple moments.

“newspaper market is more competitive than i thought,” he finally mutters. 

shanks hunkers down, shoulders shaking in an attempt to contain his laughter. “and-” he pauses as he catches sabo’s eye, the blond turning his head to gaze down at his former guardian. “koala has-”

“two offers,” sabo grunts. he rolls his eyes. “just say she’s better than me. i know you want to.” he pauses again at the entrance to the kitchen, gaze falling to the empty table. “makino’s not here?”

“ah, no. she’s meeting us there.” shanks passes him by, finally, patting him on the shoulder as he went. “i actually have a couple things to do before tonight, so i’m heading out. i’ll call you on my way back, grab lunch. be ready by six, okay? party’s at seven.”

“right.” sabo’s only half listening at this point, tugging his bedroom door open.

well. his former-

it’s been a while. since he graduated high school and moved out. since he’s been back here.

sabo lets the door slide shut behind him. the curtains are open; his bed is made -makino, probably. 

he moves over to the bookshelf and his fingers run over the spines of twenty marked notebooks, holding all his daily logs from his time spent with makino and shanks.

they pause at number three, and he pulls it out before he can think much of it, flipping through to the back, where he finds the pages more crumpled, like he’d been looking for something and grew frustrated when he couldn’t find it.

sabo reads a page out of interest and pauses when he gets to a familiar name.

he’s never remembered why he woke up on the side of that mountain, the sight of fuusha, still in ruins, far below. it still puzzles him sometimes, when he takes a moment to recall. he’d been with koala and robin, but they had gone back to goa before him. he doesn’t know the reason. did they fight? did they have to be back earlier than he did?

he’d been on notebook nine at that point, but he hadn’t had it with him, so nothing of his little country travel got logged. 

he does remember being obsessed with fuusha, at one point.

he puts the notebook back and slides open a desk drawer, frown forming on his face as he catches sight of all the articles still stashed there.

eight years ago. when the comet crashed. he can remember, faintly, watching it from the roof of the apartment building. seeing it split. watching in fascination as hundreds of little meteors grew closer and closer to the surface.

and then. crashed.

it was on the news for days. fuusha, left decimated. he remembers watching everything, saving every scrap of information, evident by all the papers in the desk drawer. something about it had him fascinated.

he couldn’t, for the life of him, recall what.

the comet crashed on the south side of the lake fuusha had formed around. the shockwaves carried the destruction all the way across, rumbling the ground even at the evacuation point.

thankfully, the town had been performing an emergency drill at the time. everyone had been moved out to the high school, out of reach of the comet’s impact. 

they’d had to relocate, their home left in ruins, but at least they were all alive.

that had been it. miran comet had come, left as half its size, and formed a newer, smaller crater in the ruins of an old mountain village. 

sabo, for the life of him, couldn’t figure why he was so interested.

he shuts the desk drawer.

-

shanks brings home yakisoba. sabo picks the mushrooms out, using the brief silence to address the topic from earlier.

“so, remind me. who’s the party for?”

“ah, an old friend of makino’s,” shanks mumbles around his food. thankfully, he washes it down with water before speaking again. “don’t ask me his name.” he waves off sabo’s look. “some old guy. his grandson’s graduating today. that’s what this all’s for.”

“lots of people?”

shanks quirks a brow, stabbing more noodles. “matter much? not like you have anywhere to be, mister unemployed.”

sabo huffs, picking out the last of the mushrooms. “i said i’d come, didn’t i?”

several hours later, he might be regretting those words.

the house of makino’s friend was huge. certainly bigger than he was expecting. the family had some wealth, that was for sure. 

the head of the house was an older man with a loud laugh. could hit hard, too, his friendly slap on the back still leaving sabo in shivers if he thought about it too long. he hadn’t seen the man of the hour, but he’d heard of him in passing several times, oh he’s gone to do this or got caught before that could happen or just saw him doing something he shouldn’t.

reckless, was his first impression.

as the night wore on, he’d grown too weary to care anymore. now he was camped out on a small balcony, shielded somewhat from the chatter and attention inside. makino had found him and shanks not long after they’d arrived, and gone around introducing them to more people than sabo could ever hope to remember.

he shivers, moving his shoulders more inward. he’d dressed more down for the night than he had that morning, but his sweater wasn’t quite thick enough to keep out the breeze that had picked up. he shifts, leaning more on the low railing, and gazes out at the cityscape. inside, voices raise as a small commotion picks up. he doesn’t pay it mind.

“twilight,” he mutters, gaze caught on the setting sun sliding just beneath the horizon line, bathing the sky in a dim glow.

“half-light,” a voice behind him corrects.

sabo blinks, turns his head back.

there’s someone standing in the doorway, hand on one of the banisters. the backglow from inside the house makes their features hard to place, but the last of the sun’s light puts it into focus. he seemed familiar, but sabo can’t put his finger on it. then it clicks -he looks like makino’s friend.

“you’re not luffy,” he states. if anything, he looked closer to sabo’s age. 

the guy blinks back, a flicker of surprise coating his expression. “i sure hope not,” he answers back, rolling his eyes as an audible shout from back inside reached them.

sabo frowns. “hm.”

he steps forward just as sabo encounters another roaming thought, leaning against the railing a couple feet away, and sabo lets his gaze fall back to the city as he asks. “what’s half-light?”

the guy chuckles, a short, breathy thing that has sabo’s hairs raising. “local dialect,” he answers. “something i picked up back home. it means the same thing.”

sabo blinks, lips closing as his unasked question gets answered. not local to here, he meant to say, but he changes the words now. “what are you here for?”

the color of the sky fades from bright to a deeper blue, and the moon’s glow begins to set in. it catches on his companion’s face as he turns to sabo again, bathes his silver eyes in wan light, bright enough for sabo to catch the confusion before it slips away, like he’s missed something, like he’s asked the wrong question. in another moment it’s gone, and he casually leans against the railing, a smile playing on his lips.

“school, at first,” he hums. “that’s over with now. it’s strange, though. i’ve always dreamed of coming to goa, of getting away from that life.” he shrugs. “i didn’t think i’d be bringing my entire family along, though.”

it’s an offhand gesture, next, that catches sabo’s attention. a wave of a hand, back to the house, and his mind feels open. it could mean different. he could be referring to more of the guests. somehow sabo doubts this, and he latches on to the suspicion. his eyes narrow. “are you sure you’re not luffy?” he asks again, because shanks had only ever mentioned one grandson, and he didn’t appreciate being strung along-

laughing snaps him out of that thought before he can finish it. it’s certainly a different reaction than before, and sabo prepares himself, ready to have the rug ripped from under him, yeah, i was messing with you, i am.

instead, his expectations are ripped to shreds. again.

“no,” the guy insists, laugh petering off. “i’m his older brother.”

before sabo can think much on that, he tips his head, eyes glinting. “and you? never seen you around before. who’d you come with?” he pauses for a moment, eyes going wide, and stifles another laugh with a hand over his mouth. “more like, who drug you here?”

sabo huffs before he can help it. “i came willingly,” he insists. when the guy doesn’t budge, he deigns him an answer. “makino. and shanks.”

the guy’s expression brightens. “oh, makino!” he says, and his tone is entirely different now. brighter. happier. “right, i saw her awhile ago. i didn’t know shanks was here, though, haven’t seen him yet-” he cuts himself off, blinking, as if he had just realized something. “wait. they brought you? no offense, but that seems kinda odd, if you didn’t even know . .” he trails off. “how do you know them?”

sabo hesitates. he hadn’t realized shanks was formally familiar with the family as well, leaving him the outsider in the mix. he’d assumed it was just makino, and that they were both there with her. guess he was wrong. guess- “i lived with them for a bit,” sabo admits.

he purses his lips, relenting as he sees the statement was getting nowhere, his companion still trying to piece it together. “for . . a long time, actually. since i was a kid.” he raises his hands at the alarmed expression across from him. “it wasn’t anything like what you’re thinking,” he says. “it was . . well, they looked after me, and i appreciate them, but they weren’t like my parents or anything.” he shrugs. “they kinda have their own kid now, right? it was similar, but it wasn’t the same.”

“oh. okay.” the guy blinks again, then turns around. he stares at the city for a while, at all the flashing lights, like he had expected different. like he was surprised that the moon was out. he turns back to sabo again. “you don’t know much about us, do you?”

it’s sabo’s turn to look away. kinda obvious at this point, considering he didn’t know there was a second grandson. and yet, instead of defending himself, he felt like admitting. “i didn’t even know your family existed until earlier today. this party was kinda . . sprung on me.”

he blinks, and then turns back to the even gaze of silver eyes. “you said ‘back home’, earlier. where is that?” 

“ah.” he rubs at his head. “well, don’ go around saying that,” he mumbles. “not something i like to admit, that i still consider it . .” his lips screw up; sabo squints as he catches it. they even out as his gaze lifts again, looking back into sabo’s eyes. “you’ve heard of fuusha, right?”

sabo’s lips part, but he stumbles on his reply. he shivers through his sweater. his gaze whites out for a moment, and he blinks it away, desperate to hold on yet feeling like he was missing something, like it was finally right there, on the edge of his consciousness. there’s a roaring in his head, blocking everything out, and when garp’s grandson steps forward, says something out of concern, sabo can’t hear a word over the noise.

he doesn’t hear, frozen stiff, until hands lay on his arms, near his shoulders, and he’s being shaken, just a little. “hey, you’re kinda scaring me here,” sabo hears, and then he blinks, and he’s snapped back to the present, silver eyes right in front of him, cast with concern. he lets his mouth finally fall shut. his gaze shifts away.

“sorry,” he mutters. 

the hands fall. the warmth where they once were lingers, just for a moment. “you good? you sure?”

“fuusha,” sabo says instead of answering, still feeling weird, off, and wanting to draw the topic away from himself. “so you’ve been here five years.”

the guy blinks. “give or take. about.” he moves his hands from hovering in the air, as if sabo would have another fit and pitch forward, to down by his side. sabo’s gaze catches on his wrist, where a red band was looped around. he recalls one of the articles he glanced at earlier in the day, and then nods to it. 

“that’s a braided cord, right?”

a hand wraps around the cord, shielding it from view, before slowly moving away. he lifts it up for sabo to see more clearly, the ends fading from red to yellow to blue, slightly frayed at the edges. “yeah. my mom made it for me.”

-

right as he says that, ace has a startling realization. one that casts him away from the conversation for a moment, that puts perspective into a different light.

the blond reminded him of his mother.

maybe that’s why the interest was there. 

rouge had light hair. it was stringy, most of the time, like she barely bothered taking care of it, instead of meticulously doing so only for the wind that day to blow it out of proportion. though every picture they had left of her had her smiling, he remembered her sunny smiles as rare; she had an array of expressions, and she liked to cast things into doubt, questioning at every turn, much to his grandfather’s annoyance. 

she smiled when ace did, though. just like the blond was now, lips quirking up almost in response to ace’s smile, born there from reminiscing about her.

the moonlight was heavy, now, and ace can see his face clear. his fair skin, something he hadn’t picked up from rouge, and was thankful for, whenever she would come home red and blotchy, a sunburn welling up easily from being out for too long. he remembers her crying to dragon until he offered to rub lotion onto her shoulders, and screaming as luffy came up after and climbed into her arms, rough handprints harming the sensitive skin.

she was stubborn as all hell, and was always willing to get into it with anyone that rubbed her the wrong way. the scourge of fuusha, they called her. and they weren’t wrong, no matter how well she had charmed gramps and dragon into believing otherwise. ace remembers, starkly, her coming in late one night, cupping a bruise on her face, and wincing when she saw ace had caught sight of it.

he blinks, and then she fades into the blond, looking disgruntled, and the bump above his eyebrow put into full view as his bangs are swiped out of the way, evidence of the scuffle he’d gotten into put on display.

ace tugs on the knot tying the cord to his wrist, loosening it. he unravels it and holds it out, between the two of them. “you can look at it, if you want,” he offers, eyes flicking from the cord to the blond.

slowly, he reaches out to take it from ace, fascination shown on his face. “it’s well-made,” he notes, loosely taking it up and holding it closer.

rouge was cunning and smart. she could talk her way out of any situation, from what ace had seen. when she couldn’t, well, she knew how to get away if she couldn’t win in a fight, sporting bruises but still holding a victory overall.

she taught ace how to scrap, but he never really used it. that was more luffy’s thing, when he grew older.

but she taught ace more than how to use his fists. ace hadn’t entered primary school until she’d passed, stubbornly insisting that he was too good for an institution, that she could school him just fine, at home. she’d been good at it, too, despite the deceptive intentions she had, her reasoning more on the lines of having ace all to herself, instead of believing whatever she had spouted about fuusha schools being corrupt.

she taught him how to weave and braid thread. she taught him how to write, how to spell. she taught him the laws of fuusha no one talked about aloud, the silent expectations everyone held. she taught him how to charm gramps into doing whatever he wanted. she taught him how to get away with messing up.

she taught him what love was.

and. he remembers.

as his hand slips back down to his side, wrist bare.

sabo, studious. always complaining at ace for leaving him without homework to turn in, or slacking on class notes and making him stumble on a test. to waking up with his arms covered in ink, angry rant sprawled onto his skin. 

sabo, eyes rimmed red from staying up late to study, leaving ace to drag him from the bed far too early, refreshed mind doing nothing when the body he was controlling was bone tired. 

he remembers angrily taking a marker to sabo’s skin on days like those, scribbling notes in almost illegible handwriting for him to take care of yourself and go to sleep at reasonable times and, his favorite, get your shit together!

he’d write that one over and over, big and bold, across his arms and down his legs, all over his face, so he’d be forced to see it and reevaluate how he treated his body.

sabo, who was quick-witted and scrappy, but too late to throw a punch. ace couldn’t count the number of times he’d woken up in the blond’s body with a split lip or nasty cut or yellowing bruise. then he’d drag himself to school and get yelled at by koala for being reckless again and making everyone worry again. he’d go home and cover it and ignore makino’s worried eyes the best he could.

that was right. makino and shanks. he lets sabo’s earlier words play back and can’t help but think differently, from what he’d experienced. so they had a baby, a real child, now. it didn’t change the fact that they cared about sabo.

sabo, meticulous. writing notes to ace with a careful script, detailing each event that had transpired while he was in ace’s body. excelling at classwork with knowledge three years ahead of ace’s own. pissing off old man crocus with smarty replies, the exact answer he didn’t expect to each of his tough questions to things ace shouldn’t have learned yet. managing to do all this, yet never getting ace’s hairstyle right, and tangling his cord, and messing his speech, and attempting to flirt with people he definitely shouldn’t be attempting to flirt with.

sabo, teasing kidd and lami, living ace’s life for him, all those months splitting a body with a guy he had never met. scribbling in thick, crisp font reminders for ace before he went to sleep and woke up in his own body. making sure ace took care of himself. fretting when he didn’t. writing off his own worries and trying to figure why ace was unhappy with life, even as the people around him, ace included, insist he care for himself for a change.

sabo, who wrote and wrote and wrote, detailing his life so that he’d never forget again, like he’d forgotten most of his life before makino and shanks. 

sabo, who reminded him so much of his mother, not just in appearance, but in everything ace had learned and cherished and forgotten, all those years ago.

sabo, who taught him so many things. who taught him, just like his mother, how to love, how to hold dear, how to forgive, how to remember.

“it’s nice,” sabo mutters, then holds the cord back out for ace to take.

his breath catches. but. bu-

so he really didn’t remember?

ace shuts his eyes for a moment. works on breathing again. he opens them and reaches for the cord, trying not to let his frustration show. before he can grab hold, though, a voice startles the pair of them.

“sabo, there you are! we’re ready to leave now. coming?” shanks is smiling, eyes only for the blond, who flinches back at the noise, and ace’s hand catches onto air as the cord is moved away. he furrows his brow, but doesn’t reach out again.

that’s when shanks seems to notice him. “oh! hey, kid, haven’t seen you in a while!” shanks steps forward to wrap ace in a hug that quickly turns into a mock chokehold, and ace forgoes the cord entirely in favor of latching to shanks’ arm, trying to pry it off.

“yeah, it’s been real nice,” he rasps. “not having to see your ugly mug-”

“ah come on now!” shanks whines. “you don’t really mean that!”

a call of his name has him settling down, and he releases ace when he remembers he was on a time crunch. “right, well, good to see you again. gotta head out now, i’ll stick around longer next time.” he winks and ace does his best exasperated expression, the luffy you are being ridiculous to extreme lengths and i am on my last straw look, but it breaks when shanks turns away, and he has to smile with his back turned, a little glad he’d gotten to see the redhead again after all this time.

“ready, sabo?” shanks asks. sabo only has time to nod before shanks flashes him a thumbs-up. “great! meet you at the car.” he’s gone after that, skipping back inside, leaving sabo to furrow his brows in confusion.

“car?” he mutters.

“makino drove,” ace tells him, and his attention snaps back up.

“oh.” he nods. his hands tighten into fists. then he realizes. “oh! here’s -this, back.”

he reaches out again, but ace waves him off, turning slightly away. “keep it.”

sabo’s brows raise. “isn’t it important?”

this meeting is important, he thinks. “give it back the next time you see me,” he says instead, because he’s not willing to give up.

sabo blinks, unsure of how to respond, but another call of his name reaches them before he can decide. so, instead of a proper answer, he holds out the band again to ace, and his bare wrist with the other. “tie it for me, then,” he says, and ace feels a grin forming as he steps forward, because it’d been a long time since he’d heard words so daring coming from the blond.

#saboace #SABOACEWEEK2019P2 #acesabo #writing #one piece #iye/lme #so i checked and i shouldve ended where i wanted to last time hah #i didnt realize there was so little left #im busy all day today so im throwing this up early

[queen-scribbles]

The Good Stuff

Prompted by @storyknitter, though not exactly in keeping with the prompt she pointed me toward(which just means I get to do it later :3)

---

One of the biggest downsides to a career like the military or Intelligence was that sometimes your bad days were so spectacularly awful they made the news and were common knowledge before you even got home. Which was why Briyoni detoured past a liquor store on the way back to her place. And why she dropped half paycheck on a bottle of Corellian Whisky. She had a feeling they would need the good stuff tonight.

She left the bottle on the table before heading back to her room to change into something more comfortable--in this case, shorts and a shirt emblazoned with the fading remnants of her favorite gravball team’s logo. Once comfortable, she returned to slouch in a chair and try to focus on the stack of datawork Garza had given her until Jonas showed up.

She didn’t have to wait long. She hadn’t even finished reading the first report when the door slid open. Jonas stepped inside, running one hand through his hair as he tapped the door controls with the other.

Bry dropped her datapad on the table even as she stood. “Hey, Jo.” He looked awful; disheveled, drained, with a beaut of a bruise coloring his right cheekbone.

“That bad, huh?” he tried to joke, flashing a lopsided smile. It didn’t reach his eyes, though, and faded quickly as Bry stepped forward to hug him. He leaned into the hug his arms settling around her shoulders as he rested his unbruised cheek against her temple. “Guess you saw the news, huh?”

“Yeah.” She rubbed his back. “I know this is a dumb question, but how’re you doing?”

Jonas inhaled deeply and hugged her tighter. “Been better,” he admitted, letting out the breath in a rush. “Also been worse.” He hesitated. “I know we had dinner plans, gorgeous-”

“Already canceled the reservations while I was changin’,” Bry cut him off. She reached up to carefully cup his jaw with one hand. “Figured you’d rather spend the evening in.”

A tired but genuine smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. “I love you,” he said, quiet yet emphatic, before kissing her forehead. He didn’t fully disengage from the hug when he started for the couch, pulling her along with him. Bry bit back a smile and grabbed her along with him. Bry bit back a smile and grabbed the whisky as they passed the table.

Rather than just drop onto the couch like she expected with how tired he seemed, Jonas sat slowly, pulling off his boots before he leaned back. It made her wonder how many other bruises he’d picked up in the course of today. Bry sat next to him, resting the whisky bottle on the floor as she settled in close enough to twine an arm around his shoulders and play with the hair at the nape of his neck. They sat in silence for several long moments, but she only felt his exhausted tension ease slightly.

“Full blown gang war’s been inevitable for a while now,” she finally said.  “Everyone’s seen it comin’, and that the SIS even tried-”

“Not in the mood to talk about it yet,” Jonas muttered, leaning his head back against the wall.

Bry slid her hand free, tickling the back of his neck as she did. “Sorry, sure.”

“Not something you need to apologize for,” he said. He squeezed her knee affectionately. “Just a topic that needs to wait until at least tomorrow.” 

“That’s fair,” she laughed wryly. “You wanna watch a trashy holovid and get pretty damn drunk?”

Jonas snorted. “And people wonder why I love you.”

Bry grinned. “It’s my charm, of course. And my excellent taste in booze.” She picked up the whisky bottle and balanced it on his knee.

He lifted his head up and leaned forward to read the label, wrapping his hand over hers around the neck, then shot her a disbelieving look. “What made you shell out for kriffin’ Corellian Whisky?”

She shrugged. “I had a feelin’ you’d need the good stuff after a day like today.”

“Thanks, but this is a little too good to waste on drowning out a bad day.” He smiled crookedly and squeezed her hand. “This is the kinda thing you save for something special.”

“I dunno,” Bry said breezily, trying to play casual. “My man walked away from a mess most wouldn’t’ve and some almost didn’t, that seems pretty special to me.”

That got an actual laugh(good, her plan was working) and Jonas wrapped his free arm around her shoulders to pull her in close enough for a kiss. “Thanks, gorgeous, but I really do think we should save this for something a little more widely considered a special occasion. What else d’you keep around here?”

“Alright, handsome, if you insist.” She winked and made a show of extricating herself to carry the whisky over to the cabinet where she kept its like. “We do have other options...”

“What’ve you got?” he asked, leaning back again and rubbing at a spot on his chest she would bet serious credits was another bruise.

“Let’s see...” Bry opened the cabinet, slid the Corellian Whisky in, and looked over the other beverages already stored there. “Got the old standbys; rodian ale, juma juice... half a bottle of Old Janx, uh, Deltron spiced wine...” she leaned around the edge of the cabinet to shoot him a sly look. “I have an almost untouched bottle of daranu in here if you you’re interested, Jo.”

Tired as he was, Jonas lifted his head enough to shoot her a dirty look--before actually seeming to consider it. “Y’know what, after a day like this, I could use something that hits like a kick in the face...”

“Haven’t you had your fill of that already?” she raised a brow pointedly at his bruised cheek.

“This?” Jonas gestured at the large purple-blue mark and waved dismissively.  “This is from the butt end of a scattergun, not someone’s foot.”

“Oh, yes, that’s worlds better,” Bry said dryly as she took him at his word and poured two glasses of daranu. This would make whatever they wound up watching far more entertaining. “Exactly the mental image I needed.”

“All the more reason to get it out of your head as quickly as as possible,” he countered with a tired smile. 

“Touché,” she laughed as she carried both glasses and the bottle back to the couch. “So, whaddya want to watch?” she asked, sinking down next to him and handing over one glass. “Doesn’t have to be a trashy holovid, or even a holovid at all. We can watch a gravball match or somethin’, if you’d rather.”

Jonas took a sip of his drink and shook his head. “Nothing with a chance of  cutting to the news. And for once, nothing... action-y. Beyond that... “ he rubbed his eyes with his free hand. “I’m too tired to pick, so, your call.”

Bry smiled sympathetically and rubbed his arm. “We don’t have to watch something, you know,” she pointed out. “We can just sit here in silence and enjoy a good stiff drink.” Not her preferred way to spend the evening, but if it was what he needed, she’d do it.

He shook his head again, taking a longer drink of daranu this time. “Watching something is fine, it’s just your call what.” 

She pursed her lips in thought, swirled her drink before taking a sip. “Mm. We could drunkenly trash talk our way through the sappy romance Sayna’s  been buggin’ me to watch.”

Jonas let out a soft laugh. “That’s not nice, Bry.”

“Well, then I’m gonna go with rewatching last season’s gravball championship match. We know who won”--she plucked at the front of her shirt with a smirk of lingering triumph--”so we don’t have to pay attention, but it was a good match if we do decide to pay attention.” She took a swig of her drink. “An’ drunkenly commentating gravball is always good.”

He snorted, but there was something forced about his casual tone. “Fine by me.”

“Gravball championship it is,” Bry crowed, and pulled up the recording she’d made of the match. As the familiar opening statistics scrolled across the screen, she settled back in, tucked under Jonas’ arm with her head against his shoulder by sheer habit. Jonas flinched ever so slightly, but settled his arm around her shoulders nevertheless. Their free hands sought each other out by equal habit, fingers intertwining as they rested against Bry’s shoulder.  They sat in comfortable silence for several minutes, as the sportscasters ran through the pregame chatter and the referee stated the game, then through the initial back and forth until Bry’s team scored.

“Right there,” she said, motioning toward the screen with her glass. “That right there is when I knew they were gonna win.” She took a large swallow, knocking she didn’t have long before the effects hit her, but savoring the sweet burn for the moment. “B’fore that was all team loyalty and bravado, but I knew right there that they would win.”

“Confidence has never been a weakness for you,” Jonas muttered, sounding distracted.

Bry shot a concerned glance in his direction. She couldn’t help wondering what the source of that distraction was, but she’d said she wouldn’t ask, so she wouldn’t ask. Instead she squeezed his hand and kept watching the game. 

They watched mostly in silence, and even the breaks in that were mostly her muttering admiration for clever moves or longshot goals she’d known were coming. Daranu was a strong drink once it kicked in, so they nursed each round, but the bottle was still over halfway empty(less than half full, Bry thought tipsily) when the game entered its third quarter and she felt Jonas finally truly relax. Maybe it was that, maybe it was the booze, maybe she was just turning into one of those worrywart fianceés she always rolled her eyes at in holovids. But she had to ask.

“Hey, Jo,” she began hesitantly, brushing her thumb softly over his knuckles. His hm? of acknowledgement was so faint she first wondered if she’d woken him up and then if she’d imagined it, but she pressed on. “Are... have bad days always been like this?”

“Nah, gorgeous.” He shifted and she faintly felt him kiss the top of her head. “I used to do my drinking alone.” A wry snort. “Occasionally with smuggled goods in a medcenter room.”

It was good to hear an edge of his usual humor creeping back into his voice. Even if  the implications of his words made her roll her eyes. “Jonas.”

“Hazard of the job, Bry.” Jonas slipped his hand free of hers and withdrew it enough to run his fingers lazily through her hair. “Even if it’s nowhere near the risk factor of yours, stuff does still happen.” 

“I know...” Her words trailed off, distracted by a cheer from the vidscreen. When she looked back over, he was watching her, one side of his mouth tugging up in the faintest hint of a smile. “What?”

“Right there,” he said, nodding toward the replay of the absolutely beautiful goal that had just been scored. “When we watched this live, you got  so excited at that score, you almost elbowed me in the face.” His smile widened, the flickering light of the vidscreen casting his features in sharp relief with pale blue light. That was one of the first moments some part of me realized we weren’t just another nothing serious. I almost got elbowed in the face on my own couch, and all I could think was how damn happy you looked your team was winning.”

Bry smirked. “I’ll hafta remember daranu makes you sappy as hell, Balkar.” She leaned in to kiss him.

“Daranu, the long hard day, the good company...” His fingers grazed her cheek.  “Take your pick.”

“Or maybe you’re always this sappy and just can’t hide it once there’s enough of the good stuff in ya?” She waggled her eyebrows and nudged the bottle.

“If I say yes, is daranu going to become your new weapon of choice?” He stole a slow, lingering kiss.

“Oh, darling, with you, it already is,” she laughed, reaching over to cup his jaw and curl her fingers around the back of his neck to pull him into an even longer kiss.  “Well, one of many,” she corrected herself as she resumed her original position. “Glad I make the hard days a little better in return, at least. You know, for all the teasing about sappiness.”

“It’s more than a little,” Jonas murmured, gratitude and relief oozing from the words. “You’re much better company than I ever expected to have.”

Bry simply hummed in reply, and they returned to silence for the rest of the game, then sat there still after it was finished. But it was comfortable silence, and he’d finally relaxed, so not a bad end to the day, even if it was long and hard enough they both drifted off on the couch, still nestled together.

#queens fic #briyoni nerai #jonas balkar #otp: better company #brykar #swtor #swtor fic

[papa-rhys]

First Aid (Jacob Seed X f!deputy)

Anonymous: Can I have a imagine where f!deputy need help to take a shower and Jacob help her and he secretly loves her? It can be noncon if you want 

Note: The tone of this is kinda all over the place because I wrote it over the course of a week and had 2 migraines in the process. BUT I kinda like that it turned out like that? I feel like it reflects the relationship that Jacob and Rook have. Idk, either way: Enjoy!

| Find more of my stuff here! |   | Spare any change? |

The deputy stumbles up the stairs of the Veterans Centre, holding her injured arm tightly. Jacob follows, rolling his eyes each time she trips, though he still instinctively puts out his arm to stop her from tumbling all the way to the bottom.

She was training when it happened. She was running Jacob’s course for the umpteenth time and she knew it fairly well, but unbeknownst to her, Jacob had a surprise for her this time; a curveball in the shape of a new opponent to fight. A fellow prisoner who’d drawn the short straw. Rook had rounded the corner and an unprecedented speed – a corner that was usually empty – and the prisoner had been lying in wait for her. Grabbing Rook’s arm and twisting back with a sickening crunch, the prisoner threw Rook to the floor and began beating her until Jacob finally stepped in.

“I think it’s broken,” Rook had told Jacob, showing him her already bruising arm as the training area was cleared for the next run.

“And whose fault is that?” he’d replied, folding his arms across his chest and looking away from her as she’d burst into tears. He’d pulled her into a hug – not before checking that none of his men were watching, mind you. “It’s okay,” he’d told her, patting her on the back. “You did good.”

See, there was a much softer side to Jacob underneath that tough exterior. He was calloused; hardened by the life he’d lived and although Rook had no real idea of the horrors that Jacob had experienced in his 47 years, she knew that with enough care and treatment, those calluses could be softened.

Reaching the top of the staircase, Rook turns to make sure Jacob is still following.

“I’m still here,” Jacob assures her. “Through there,” he adds, pointing her towards the open door of a bathroom.

She enters the bathroom and stands in the centre of the room, tugging at the bandage on her arm.

“Don’t play with it,” Jacob tells her. “I ain’t changin’ it for you if it falls off.” He walks over to a cabinet and pulls out a raggedy, old towel.

“It’s not helping anyway,” Rook sighs, watching him. “I need painkillers.”

Jacob throws the towel at her and Rook instinctively raises her arms to catch it, crying out in pain as she does so.

“I already told you: painkillers dull your senses. If you’re strong, you’ll pull through without them.”

“It still feels broken,” she states.

“Well the doc said it ain’t, so it ain’t.”

Rook huffs and looks away, folding her arms. Jacob steps forward and holds her chin between his thumb and his forefinger, turning her head to face him.  “You trust me, right?” he asks. “Have I ever steered you wrong?”

Rook sighs. “No, Jacob,” she says, reluctantly.

“Exactly. It’ll be healed in a few days and you’ll be trainin’ again before you know it.”

Rook holds back the urge to roll her eyes. You’ll be trainin’ again before you know it, she repeats in her head. As if she wanted to be trained in the first place. She’s been at the Veterans Centre for so long, she often forgets that she’s here as a prisoner. She’s almost certain she’s developing Stockholm Syndrome, but that’s a problem for another day.

“Now, get those off and get in the damn shower,” Jacob finishes, nodding at her clothes.

Rook looks down briefly before offering Jacob a weak smile. “I, uh… I can’t take them off by myself,” she says, gesturing towards her arm.

Jacob rolls his eyes and grabs her sweatpants, yanking them down – along with her underwear – rather roughly.

“Oh, wow, okay then,” Rook mutters. “Y’know, you could be a little gentler.”

Jacob looks up at her as he crouches at her feet and Rook steps out of her sweatpants and kicks them across the floor.

“What’ve I told you about keepin’ things neat?” Jacob scolds her, moving to pick up the sweatpants and folding them neatly.

“Yeah… Sorry.” Rook awkwardly pulls her shirt over her head with one arm, keeping the injured one close to her chest. As she wriggles and squirms inside the fabric, Jacob’s eyes fall upon the bruised skin that spans from Rook’s hip to the top of her ribs. She’d suffered 2 broken ribs, a sprained arm, and various other cuts and bruises as a result of the beating, and Jacob can’t help but take pity on her as she struggles in front of him, feeling responsible for her suffering.

“Here,” Jacob sighs, helping her pull her other arm out of the shirt and pulling it off over her head, revealing a very flustered deputy with strands of hair going in all the wrong directions.

She now stands completely naked in front of Jacob and although he’s seen her naked once or twice before, she can’t help but feel tiny and weak. She hugs herself as Jacob turns the shower on and heads for the door.

“Wait, where you going?” she asks.

“I’m goin’ for a coffee, why?”

Rook looks at the shower and then back at Jacob. “I can’t… I mean, how am I gonna do everything?”

It takes Jacob a few beats to realise what she’s asking of him. “You want me to help you shower?” he asks, as if it’s the craziest thing someone has ever proposed to him.

“Well… yeah,” Rook replies.

“You know you’re gonna have to do things for yourself at some point, right?”

“Yeah, of course… just not today,” she chirps, sweetly.

Rook can tell Jacob is stifling a smile as he closes the door again and locks it before making his way towards her. She steps into the shower and eases herself into the stream of hot water that pours from the rusty, old showerhead. “Ow, Jesus, that’s hot,” she mutters, turning to Jacob. He’s already pulled his shirt off and is now unzipping his jeans. That’s pretty hot, too, she thinks. “You’re getting naked, too?”

“What, you thought I was gonna get in the shower with all my clothes on?”

“Good point,” Rook shrugs, trying to peel her eyes away from Jacob’s chest. He’s littered with scars – old ones and fresh ones, alike – and he has a wide array of bruises to compliment them. She watches as he drops his jeans, revealing his legs to be covered in a similar variety of old injuries. Jacob looks up, his eyes meeting hers, and she looks away; staring at the tiled wall in front of her as Jacob steps into the shower.

“Okay, whaddya want me to do first?” Jacob asks, standing so close behind Rook that she can feel the body heat radiating from him.

“I usually wash – I usually wash my hair first,” she says, awkwardly clearing her throat halfway through saying it.

“Alright. Hair it is, then.”

Jacob cups his hands, gathering water in them and gently pouring it over Rook’s hair. He slicks her hair back and smoothes it down, carefully brushing it out of her face and pulling it all toward him. He reaches down and grabs a bottle of shampoo, squirting some into his hand and rubbing it into her hair. Rook leans into his touch, tilting her head back and enjoying the sensation of someone running their fingers across her scalp. “That feels so damn good,” she says. She hadn’t meant to say it out loud and she blushes immediately.

“I’m not too rough?” he asks, his voice reflecting his surprise.

“No, no, it’s perfect,” she tells him.

Jacob washes the bubbles from her hair so carefully, you’d think he was washing a newborn baby. As he bends down to close the cap of the shampoo bottle, it slips and falls to the floor with a clatter. Rook reaches for it with her injured arm, wincing at the pain.

“Don’t. I’ll get it,” Jacob insists, bending down for the bottle. Rook turns around to face him, and as he stands straight again, the two of them find themselves incredibly close to one another. Rook stands there, look up at Jacob; the water pouring over her face and dripping from her eyelashes.

“I’m sorry I let you down today, Jake,” she sighs.

In an act of compassion that seemingly came from nowhere, Jacob pulls her forward and plants a kiss on her forehead. “You didn’t,” he tells her, swiping his thumb across her bottom lip. “I put that prisoner in there to throw you off. I pushed you to do too much. I backed you into a corner and I shouldn’t have.”

Rook looks up at him. Her vision is blurred from the water dripping from her lashes, and in the spur of the moment, she stands on her tiptoes and kisses him.

She pulls away from the kiss. “Oh, God… I… Wow, I really shouldn’t have done that.”

“It’s okay,” Jacob assures her.

“No, it’s not. I mean, you’re… you… and I’m – oh, God, I’m such a –”

Jacob moves in for another kiss and for a few painful moments, Rook thinks he may be doing it out of pity, but as he places his hands on her hips and pulls her closer, the fog of doubt is cleared from her mind.

She raises her hands and settles them on the back of his neck. The kiss quickly escalates from gentle to passionate; slow to fast-paced. As they kiss, Rook feels Jacob hardening against her lower stomach and she smiles into the kiss.

Jacob takes the lead – as he tends to do in all areas of his life – and spins Rook around to face the wall. She rests her hands against the tiles, letting the wall support her as she bends over.

“You sure you wanna do this?” Jacob asks, leaning forward and purring the question into her ear. His voice is like butter and it sends tingles across Rook’s skin.

“Yeah,” she nods. “Now hurry up before the water runs cold.”

He slides into her, earning a soft moan from Rook. Despite her order to hurry, Jacob takes it nice and slow, savouring the moment and the feeling of her wrapped tightly around the most sensitive part of him. He wasn’t used to being sensual and he found it rather intimidating, but this was a special occasion. The Deputy, with all her capability and independence and strength, was now bent over in front of him, moaning and whimpering as he fucks her agonisingly slowly. This moment had been a long time coming and he gave himself the credit for it. If not for his conditioning, she’d likely still be out there, causing trouble for him and ruining his younger brothers plans.

But now look at her; she belongs to him, now.

Rook reaches back with one hand, grabbing hold of Jacob’s hip and trying to make him go faster. As much as she begs for him to speed up, she has to admit that she enjoys the desperation and the neediness that Jacob has instilled in her. Maybe this was his plan all along: to get her to abandon all of her morals and allegiance to the resistance. To need him as though he were her means to survival. And oh boy, does she need him.

“Please, Jake,” she pleads. “Please go faster.”

Jacob leans forward again. “You want me to go faster?” he asks. “You want me to fuck you like an animal?”

She nods quickly. “Y-yes. Please…”

“And why should I? What’ve you done to earn it?”

“I – I don’t…” Rook stutters, her head swimming. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“I – fuck.”  Rook presses her forehead against the cold tiles. “I’ve been good, Jake. I’ve been a good girl.”

Jacob smiles widely. “That’s right, you have,” he says, smoothing Rook’s hair. “Okay then, I guess you earned it.”

Jacob speeds up, pounding into Rook hard and unapologetically. This was more his forte. Jacob was always much better at rough than he was at sensual.

“Fuck, Jake,” Rook gasps.

“You asked for it, sweetheart,” he tells her. “I coulda carried on takin’ it easy, but no. That ain’t good enough for my little princess, is it?” he grunts.

My little princess. The words drive Rook wild. She stands up straight and Jacob wraps his arms around her middle. She’s tiny compared to him and his arms could wrap around her twice if they were bendy enough.

He buries his face in her neck, kissing and biting at the softest skin he’s ever known. Then, a thought hits him and he’s already verbalised it before he’s had a chance to register it himself.

“I love you so fuckin’ much,” he pants, the words muffled by Rook’s neck.

Rook grabs hold of Jacob’s hands – which still lay across her tummy – and rests her head against his. “I love you, too, “ she confesses, quietly whispering the words as if the resistance could hear them if she spoke too loudly. She can feel Jacob smiling against the crook of her neck, which makes her smile in turn.

As Jacob hugs tighter, something in Rook’s gut begins to flutter. Her legs begin to wobble and she finds it difficult to remain standing. “I think… I think I –“

Jacob holds onto Rook, keeping her from falling. She climaxes, clutching at Jacob’s hands and squeezing them as she goes dizzy. Jacob chuckles in her ear, enjoying the sight of Rook convulsing beneath his embrace.

“Atta girl, atta girl,” he praises, slowing his movements and trailing more kisses down her neck. He slowly reaches his own orgasm soon after, rocking his hips slowly and smoothly until he spills into a worn out Rook, who now leans forward against the wall with her eyes closed.

“Fuck me,” Jacob pants, pulling out and watching his cum drip from her folds and into the drain.

Rook stands up straight and turns around to face him. “I should injure myself more often if this is your idea of first aid,” she says, smiling up at him with tired eyes and rosy red cheeks.

“How’s the pain?” he asks, pushing her soaking wet hair out of her face.

“What pain?” she smiles.

“See; painkillers are overrated.”

As Jacob plants a kiss on Rook’s forehead, the shower begins to spit and judder.

“That’s not a good sign…” Rook states, watching the shower head as it shakes and rumbles.

“Yeah, we should – ah fuck!”

The shower rains freezing cold water down on them, sending them both leaping out of the cubical.

“F – fuckin’ A, I – I told you that’d happen,” Rook breathes, standing in the middle of the room in shock.

Jacob laughs, shaking his hair dry and spraying the room with water in the process. “Here,” he says, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around Rook’s shoulders as she shivers. He grabs another towel, wrapping it around himself. “Maybe next time we should stick to a bedroom; y’know, somewhere we won’t catch hypothermia.”

“It’s cute that you think there’s gonna be a next time,” Rook says.

“It’s cute that you think there won’t be,” Jacob smirks.

Rook laughs – a loud and genuine laugh – and Jacob’s heart flutters in his chest. He watches her with a grin that resembles the Cheshire Cat. “I meant what I said, y’know,” he says, looking down at his feet, still smiling.

“Yeah,” Rook says, stepping closer to him and tugging on his towel to pull him down to her height. “So did I,” she smiles, planting a peck on his lips.

#shamelessly pluggin my paypal on my works from now on #bc ya girls gotta help her ma pay bills #jacob seed #jacob seed x deputy #jacob seed x f!deputy #far cry 5 #my writing #writing: Jacob seed

[random-friendly-1ntrovert]

Cuphead: The Stolen Soul

Chapter 1:

Cuphead slumped in his chair, his chin resting on his arms as he leaned against the dinner table. Out of boredom, the young boy stared out the window into the forest beyond the walls of the Elder Kettle's house. Cuphead was currently experiencing one of those days where everything one would enjoy didn't seem all that exciting for an unknown reason; and he wasn't enjoying that phase one bit.

The Elder Kettle noticed the blank expression on Cuphead's face. He called the youth's brother, Mugman, to the dining room to talk to them.

"What is it, Elder Kettle?" asked Mugman curiously, "Is there something you need us to do?"

The wise kettle placed a piece of paper on the table between the two brothers, "I've noticed that you two have been lacking in productive activity these past few days, so I've created something special for you. If you want to, you can call it a scavenger hunt."

Cuphead straightened his posture at the mentioning of a new adventure, "What are we looking for?"

The Elder Kettle placed a map next to the list, along with a dozen coins, "I would like for you two to explore the Inwell Isles, and search for the buildings listed here. If you want, you can also purchase some snacks from one of the shops."

Cuphead and Mugman exchanged an exhilarated glance among each other before looking back to the Elder Kettle.

"Now," the old kettle cleared his throat, "before you go, I have one more thing to tell you. No matter what you're told, no matter what you see, no matter what you do, stay on this side of the tracks. I don't want you going anywhere near the Devil's Casino."

Cuphead tilted his head with interest, "Why can't we go there?"

"Many strange events have occured in the casino. Most of those events have not been very good ones. Most of them ended with witnesses stuck with terrible fates. I don't want you boys being one of those unfortunate individuals. Do you understand?"

The boys nodded.

"Alright then," exclaimed the Elder Kettle, "you boys hop to it! Off you go!"

"Wait for me!" exclaimed Mugman as he eagerly chased after his brother. The two youngsters raced through the forest to complete their quest.

__________

Down in the darks caves below the Devil's Casino, a small black creature lay waiting; the vicious creature waited as his prey came rolling along the floor near him. He chuffed slyly as the unsuspecting victim came closer... and closer.

At last the target was within reach. The monster pounced from the darkness, seizing the red victim with ease. The black beast held the prey in front of him as he snickered in triumph.

"Oh, who am I kiddin'?" the black creature sighed, "It's a rubber ball! It's not gonna beg for mercy. Oy, sometimes even chasin' an inanimate object isn't enough to keep a demon entertained down here." The demon threw the rubber ball across the floor, watching as it seemingly fled to the far corner.

He sighed and looked to a dusty old mirror that leaned against the wall next to him. He had a round head with an indent on the top to represent devil's horns. A black, classical devil tail reached out from behind him. He wore white gloves and an ink-tainted bowtie. He had pie-cut eyes and a wide, somewhat disturbing grin. One detail that one would quickly notice upon seeing this devil was strange; he was made of ink.

The small ink demon sighed as he turned to face the pile of scrolls. In his lifetime, the young art piece had read every last one of the scrolls. One would think he'd memorized them word-for-word.

The young devil glanced to a tall pedestal in the center of the room. Resting on the pedestal was a small box. For as long as the small creature could remember, that box had waited there for someone to lift it and discover its secrets. The small devil had wanted to see what the box contain, but he had a problem; he wasn't the tallest of the monstrosities that lived down here.

Until today, the small ink creature had no clue as to how he could reach the hidden treasure. However, he was sure that he would find out today. The small creature leaned the mirror against the pedestal and took a few steps back. He ran up the slanted mirror and seized the top of the tall pedestal.

He carefully reached over the edge of the pillar and grabbed at the box. He was sure he'd reach the box until he heard a booming voice behind him. "Bendy! What are you doing!?"

Bendy lost his grip and fell, sliding down the mirror and crashing into a pair of furry legs. The demon looked up at a glaring figure above him.

"Uh..." Bendy stammered, "Hi, Pops."

"Bendy," the Devil growled, "were you trying to open that box?"

Bendy stood up and hung his head, "Yeah."

"And are you supposed to be looking in the box?"

"No."

"Then why are you trying to look inside it?"

"What else can I do? I've read every scroll, I've done everything one can do with the rubber ball! I'm bored outta my mind!"

"Well, what do you want to do?"

Bendy twiddled his thumbs, "I was thinkin' maybe I could go outside?"

"No."

"Why? There's nothing to do down here!"

The Devil sighed, "Look, Bendy, I understand that you're curious. It's natural for a child to be that way. But you have to learn self control. Everyone has a right to privacy and secret. If you want to learn one's secret, you must earn that right. Now, I won't let it slide, but I'll go easy this once."

The ink demon tilted his head, "Whaddya mean?"

The Devil, pointed to the pile of scrolls, "I want you to sort through those contracts. Sort them in alphabetical order and by date."

"B-but-"

"If you've read every scroll, it will be easier to sort them. Now get going. The sooner you start, the sooner you'll finish."

"Fine." Bendy groaned as he stomped over to the pile.

#cuphead #batim #fanfiction #fanfic

[themurphyzone]

Oneshot: Truth in Television Soaps

So, my mom watched a lot of dramas back when we used to have her Filipino channels (she has switched to streaming on the Ipad thank goodness). For my readers who have never seen a Filipino soap opera, just know there’s a lot of screaming, crying, and catfighting. The majority of dramatic moments are so overacted that it becomes hilarious. 

“So, what did you think?” Heinz asked as Perry put the borrowed boxset of El Matador de Amor on the shelf. “Selena deserved so much better than Jose. He completely shirked his duties as royalty just to go bullfighting! She deserves a guy who’s actually ready for a commitment.” 

Perry nodded, though privately he felt that the plot with Selena and Fernando should’ve taken a backseat to the intrigue of Esmerelda falling in love with the corrupt police chief’s son, Juan, who used the nickname El Matador when in the bullfighting ring to avoid being caught by his father. 

“So then I was thinking, if this is how engaging a Spanish drama is, there’s gotta be some gold from other countries,” Heinz continued, handing Perry a brightly colored DVD case. The title was in a foreign language. There were two women, one in a wedding dress, tugging a man between them with angry looks on their faces. “I was thinking of going for Italy next, but Philippines works too. One of my neighbors ordered it, but it got delivered to my door by mistake. But hey, I’m not turning down a free opportunity to watch something I’ve never heard of before.” 

Perry folded his arms. 

“Sheesh, you good guys have to be so uppity about this whole stealing is wrong thing,” Heinz complained. “I’ll give it back after I watch it.” 

Shaking his head, Perry grabbed the delivery information off the table and shoved it into Heinz’s hand. Then he forcefully pushed him out the door. 

“Alright, I’m returning it! I’m returning it, hold your horses. Or tail. I don’t know why we even say that when there aren’t any horses around here. At least let me check the door number first,” Heinz said. “And quit shoving. That’s just rude.” 

He stopped pushing, figuring that he’d better start setting a precedent for being the good guy. 

Heinz checked the paper, then pointed down the hall. “Oh, it’s just two doors down. At least we don’t need the elevator. That thing is slow even on the best days.” 

He knocked on the door, tapping his foot as he waited. Perry could see him mouthing numbers as an excuse to dash away if no one answered in the short timeframe Heinz was giving them. 

Finally, a man in a white undershirt opened the door slightly. He didn’t bother unlatching the chain. “Oh, it’s you. The crazy neighbor,” he mumbled. “Whaddya want?” 

Heinz made an indignant noise at being called a ‘crazy neighbor’, so Perry gave him a nudge to remind him of why they were there. Better to just get this done and over with. 

“A DVD was delivered to my door by mistake. Something from the Philippines,” Heinz said. “I was gonna keep it for myself, but my former nemesis is now forcing me to return it cause that’s in the good guy manual. Apparently.” 

“Tom? Who’s that?” a woman called from inside the apartment. 

Tom paled, quickly checking over his shoulder. Then he dropped a ten dollar bill through the crack. “That money is for keeping quiet. My mother ordered that DVD, but I don’t want any of that trash anywhere near me,” he shuddered. “Take those and leave. Now.” 

“Is that my DVD?” the woman asked. “I’ve been looking forward to watching it....” 

“Just a salesman! It’s nothing!” Tom called to her. Then he shook his head, glaring at Heinz and Perry. “Well, get out!” 

The door slammed shut. 

Heinz grinned, scooping up the ten bucks triumphantly. “Wow, I guess this good guy stuff pays off. Literally! Can I get a rimshot?” he asked. “C’mon, I deserve a rimshot for that pun!”  

Perry didn’t mention that the money was only a bribe. But it was definitely one of the strangest bribes he’d ever seen. While Heinz gloated over his victory as they headed back to his living room, Perry couldn’t help but wonder if the show was as bad as Tom claimed it would be. 

Three hours later, they were sobbing into tissues while Angela claimed she didn’t really love Manuel, and that he was an emotional crutch while her poor family tried to scrape up enough funds to send her ailing father to the United States for a life-saving heart transplant. 

“How could she say that?” Heinz cried, blowing his nose loudly. “He was loving and supportive! If she doesn’t stay him, he’ll have to go back to his arranged marriage with Emilia!”

Perry wiped away a stray tear. Sure, there was a bit more screaming than necessary, but a good chunk of the dialogue was understandable to him and didn’t require any subtitles. 

Though he found Angela hard to enjoy since she kept wailing like a banshee at the drop of a hat. Her reaction to discovering that her beloved necklace was stolen was so overblown that Perry had to bite back the urge to laugh since Heinz was so invested in the story. 

But Manuel’s actor was decent. 

Heinz didn’t have a scheme lined up on Saturday, since they’d planned to begin the 3-part finale. Brightly colored tissue boxes covered the coffee table. 

Perry figured he’d better start doing some research to find a foreign drama that wouldn’t be an emotional trainwreck. He could handle a few crying spells, but it happened so often here that he just didn’t react to it anymore. 

Besides, he doubted this was healthy for Heinz. 

Heinz popped the DVD into the player. Then he grabbed a tissue box and settled next to Perry on the couch. “I’m really glad Manuel gave Angela the money to cover the cost of the transplant. I mean, he may be a rich pretty boy but he’s got a heart at least. Though the guy needs to grow a spine to Emilia and her domineering mother. It’s kinda obvious they just want his money. You’d think he’d pick up on that.” 

Angela was excited to finally be marrying the love of her life, while Manuel was a bit more pensive as his best friend helped him with his tuxedo. So far, eight minutes without crying and screaming. It was a new record. 

“We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of Manuel Jonah Salonga and Angela Mary Quinto,” the priest announced to the crowd at the church. “If there is anyone who objects to this marriage-” 

“I OBJECT!” a furious woman with her hair spilling out of a messy bun stormed down the aisle, her equally severe mother behind her. They glared furiously at Angela, who quickly grew teary-eyed at having her perfect day ruined by unstoppable envy. 

Heinz gasped, his hands flying to his mouth. “You go away, Emilia!” he shouted. “You always ruin the moment!” 

Perry lightly smacked his leg to keep him quiet so he could hear. 

“Emilia, please-” 

Emilia cut Angela’s choked cry off, her face completely red with rage. “Please?” she scoffed, cruelly mocking her. Her voice rose to a fevered pitch. “Please what? Please don’t ruin my wedding! Please give me my necklace! Please don’t kiss my crush when I haven’t made a single move and have done nothing to claim him! Let’s get one thing straight here, poor, naive, precious Angela.” 

Heinz and Perry were both on the edge of their seats.

Angela trembled from head to toe as Emilia approached her with a malicious smirk. “You are nothing but a lowly maid girl. Manuel only pities you.” 

“That’s not true!” Manuel protested, when the mother suddenly shoved him to the ground. 

“Do you really think you have a choice in the matter?” the mother hissed vehemently. “You are marrying my daughter. It was decided long ago. Boys, surround him. Don’t ruin his face.” 

A group of men surrounded Manuel, completely cutting off his access to Angela. 

“ANGELA! ANGELA! DON”T HURT HER! SHE DIDN’T DO ANYTHING TO YOU!” Manuel screeched. 

“MANUEL!” Angela wailed. 

Honestly, Emilia was standing on the edge of the stairs. Just push her down, Perry thought. She was completely open for an attack. 

Emilia laughed. “You see? And you want to know something else?” She leaned closer to Angela so that her mouth brushed her long, black hair. “I stole the first stack of bills you peasants bent your backs to earn to send your father to the states.”

Heinz gasped. “I knew it was her! I told you so, Perry the Platypus! And you didn’t believe me! See, I can be right sometimes! Take that!” he gloated loudly. Perry threw a pillow at him to shut him up so he could hear. 

Which wasn’t necessary, since Angela was now screaming loud enough to wake the entire Tri-State Area. 

Angela’s face contorted in rage. “YOU ALMOST KILLED MY FATHER! YOU’RE NOTHING BUT A GOLDDIGGER! YOU ARE NOTHING BUT A STUPID, JEALOUS GOLDDIGGER!” 

She slapped Emilia across the face, her head turning from the force of impact. 

Heinz cheered. “Yeah! Let her have it, Angela!” 

Perry threw another pillow. Heinz glared at him for that one, but his attention quickly returned to the TV. 

The congregation was silent. The mother’s eyes bulged out comically. “She...she dared to strike my daughter, a heiress of the Santos resort! Someone call the police!” 

“YOU...YOU WENCH!” Emilia screeched, charging at Angela and knocking her down. “YOU DON’T DESERVE HIM! YOU DON’T DESERVE HIM!” 

Angela and Emilia screamed and fought like wildcats, rolling across the floor as they forgot everything but beating the stuffing out of each other in their blind rage. 

The choreography wasn’t the best, but Perry was more interested in who would come out on top. It had to be Angela. It just had to be. 

Then Heinz blocked his view of the television, and Perry threw the final pillow at him. Heinz scowled, scooping up all the displaced pillows and dropping them on Perry. “I tolerated the first two times, but three is just too much!” he complained. “How do you like it when I turn the tables on you?” 

Perry held two pillows by the corners, narrowing his eyes at the challenge. 

She only wanted a soda. 

Vanessa sighed as she walked past Perry and her dad, fighting in the exact same way as the two women on the television. 

Secret agents were too easily impressionable. 

#perryshmirtz #perry the platypus #heinz doofenshmirtz #phineas and ferb #fanfiction #oneshot

[signutai]

12 w/ Mbat and Zenko | 100 w/ Drill and Kama | 90 w/ anyone do ur worst | 24 w/ Drill | 94 w/ Tareo and Garou

#OPM #One Punch Man #Metal Bat #Zenko #fic #Anonymous

[so-many-youtubers-so-little-time]

Collabs and Secrets

Summary: You decide to film a video with the whole buttercream gang, your best friends, but find it’s much harder to collab with them, especially when you are keeping it a secret that you’re dating one of them. 

A/n: So this idea came to me a few days ago and I just wanted to keep it simple but I sort of melded a few ideas and this is the result lol. Forgive any grammar mistakes and spelling errors, also if you notice any inconsistencies just hmu, hope you enjoy! 

Pairing: Joe Sugg x reader

Words: 4.7K 

You fixed your hair and stuck a tongue out at the camera before centering yourself on the huge, empty, sofa then began your intro. 

“Hey, guys! It’s me, (y/n), again! And today...” You paused for suspense, “I have the whole Buttercream gang with me!” And on cue, Josh, Jack, Joe, Oli, Conor, and Caspar jumped out from behind the sofa. 

“Yay!” Caspar yelled excitedly as he fell face-first on the sofa and slid down the front. Jack began stroking your face while making creepy eye contact with the camera and Joe jumped forward and took a seat on the sofa, almost kicking you in the face while doing so. 

You jumped back before facing the camera, “I swear one day, these boys will do something and I’m gonna get seriously injured,” you joked to the camera. 

“Aweh (y/n)...” Conor took a seat next to you before sharply turning to face the camera, “You’reprobablyright, I’msorryinadvance!” He spoke really fast which broke all of you into laughter. 

After all of the guys settled into the sofa or tried to, but Jack and Conor ended up having to sit on the ground, on each side of your legs. Joe and Caspar were seated on each of your sides. Oli on Joe’s other side, and Josh on Caspar’s side. “Everyone seated? Can we properly start now?-” 

“Where’s Mikey?” Caspar interrupted which is when you guys started noticing he wasn’t to be seen. 

“Probably taking a shit,” Josh joked which made you chuckle. 

Joe said gesturing at you, “It’s alright, (Y/n) can take his spot in the ‘Buttercream gang’.” 

“Cor, Mikey’s gotten hotter!” Oli flirted but was interrupted by an appalled Jack. 

“That implies that Mikey was hot, to begin with,” he said with while side eyeing the camera. 

“You are right,” Oli mumbled making everyone laugh more but you turned your attention back to the camera. 

“Anyway!-” You blanked on what you were gonna say next and Josh caught you. 

“Did you forget?!” He nudged you with his hand, which was placed over Caspar’s shoulder

Joe peered over to Josh while snickering, “She did!” 

“She was so busy getting all of us for one video, she actually forgot to plan the video!” Caspar stated before you slightly shoved him, but he was being over dramatic and fell on Josh then rolled onto the ground. 

Everyone laughed again but before Caspar could get up and take his spot again. Josh and Jack lunged for his spot. You scooted closer to Joe and watched them both try to fit on the sofa as Caspar also began fighting for his spot back. 

Oli looked at the camera and said with a deadpan expression, “She’s our only female friend if you haven’t noticed.” 

Conor chuckled then went cross eyed. “A FUH-MALE?!” which no one must’ve heard over the sound of Caspar, Josh, and Jack arguing. 

“Guys! Guys! Guys! The Video!” You tried but they would not bother until they each had the seat next to you. As they continued fighting, you just stared into the camera with a blank expression, Joe noticed and began doing the same. Then Conor noticed, then Oli, and they too stared at the camera as the three men acted childishly. 

Finally, Josh won and got the spot next to you, with Jack stuck beside him and Caspar forced to sit on the ground, near your leg, next to Conor. After they settled down and became jovial again Caspar noticed you and the other boys,“Wha- huh?” Caspar asked as he looked back and forth between you four and the camera. 

“Oh, nothing,” Joe said as you all cut the act and laughed at how in sync you four were. 

Jack pretendingly grumbled in the corner about how unfair it was that Josh got the spot next to you when Oli peered over, “Buddy, we can all hear you-” 

“I don’t think he cares, he just loves (y/n) too much!” Joe kidded to which you made this face at the camera. 

Jack and Conor, who were on opposite ends of the frame began joking around loudly while Joe, Caspar, and Oli also began cracking their own inside jokes, forgetting that they were there to film for your video. 

You tried to grab their attention and focus it back to the video but your voice drowned out, Josh noticed and thankfully helped you out, “Are- Are you guys done?” Josh asked with a slightly annoyed tone while glancing back and forth between each of the boys and the camera until each of the boys had quieted down.  

You looked up at Josh and smiled, opening your mouth to say something when Mikey walked out of the bathroom and stood in front of the camera, blocking it. “You guys started filming without me?!” he questioned with his back to the camera. “Why- Can’t you wait-” He took a step back as he questioned you seven. 

“Mikey!” all of you shouted in unison. 

“The camera, mate!” Joe shouted as Mikey almost knocked over your set up, but he whipped around in time and didn’t.

“Can you just sit down, LP?!” Josh yelled, starting a tsunami of people yelling at Mikey too. So Mikey just mumbled nervously and walked up to the sofa. 

“Mate, whatcha looking for? There’s no space on the sofa?” Joe pointed out as he gestured at how cramped everyone was on the sofa.  

You nodded your head at Joe’s comment and pointed to the ground but Mikey just gestured at the sofa, “I dunno- Couldn’t you make some more space? Just- like- scoot around-?” he shrugged.

“If there was more space on the sofa, why would we be sittin’ on the ground, Mikey?” Caspar questioned. 

After moments of banter, Mikey also resigned to sitting on the ground, near Jack’s feet, even though he was occasionally met with tickles and tasers from him, which distracted everyone but you could finally get back to the video. 

“Ok! So as you’ve read the title, this is a new type of game, basically, a ‘who knows me better’ and a ‘hypothetical scenarios’ game put together-.” 

“Oh boy!” Joe exclaimed before you could finish your sentence. 

“Is there a prize or anything?” Oli questioned as he peered over to you. 

You nodded, “There is actually!” You turned back to the camera, “Whoever wins gets a kiss from me!” In the corner of your eyes, you noticed Joe’s eyes widen then his expression change to pretend like he wasn’t shocked. 

“Really?!” one of the boys questioned, with hints of surprise and disbelief, while looking at you but you broke out laughing. 

“No,” you replied while laughing at their reactions, “The prize is actually winner’s choice,” you explained when you finally caught your breath.  

“That’s even better!” Conor said as he slowly faced the camera and creepily smirked. 

“Oi! To a limit! I’m not gonna murder anyone or like that cause you won-” 

“Wait, I can still ask for a kiss if I win?” Jake flirted in front of the boys but before Joe chimed in. 

“IF you win.” 

“Oohhh!” Josh went glancing between him and Joe, who then began pretending to get angry and put their fists up, implying that they were gonna fight for you. 

You chuckled before going deadpan and screaming, “The video!” They laughed it off then went back to normal so that you could finish the instructions. “There are some rules for the ‘winners choice’ but I’ll get to that after the game instructions-” 

Conor mumbled something to Jack, causing him to giggle, and you made a mental note to edit that out before going back to the game. “So I asked you guys, my followers, to send in questions and scenarios, some which would include these guys and some which wouldn’t. Then each of you,” you gestured at the boys, “-would get a chance to answer. Whoever answers closest to what I would do or have done in that scenario, gets a point!” 

Oli chimed in, “So we could literally have any answer and if we convinced you enough it would be right?-”

“You couldn’t have done a simple ‘best friend vs. boy friend?” Jack questioned jokingly. 

“She just needed an excuse to get all seven of us on the same screen,” Conor stated while laughing. 

“Yeah plus she doesn't have a boyfriend,” Caspar responded to Jack.

“...Or best friends,” Joe mumbled before giggling. You caught his eyes and gave a glare before jabbing his side with your finger, making him jump back. He pushed you away and you two had a minor poking fight but your attention was caught by Mikey.

“OK, (y/n), but I am obviously at such a disadvantage,” Mikey pointed out, “I’ve known you the least amount of time out of all these boys- I don’t even know your favorite color-” 

“Mikey, we’ve known each for over two years, I reckon that’s a good amount of time to get to know someone,” You told while Conor explained to Mikey that it wasn’t a fact-based question-answer game but rather a set of hypothetical scenarios where they would have to predict how you would act. 

You got back to your sentence, “Whoever has the most points at the end of the game is the winner and can use me however they want-” when the last sentence came out of your mouth you knew it was wrong. And broke out laughing. 

“Whaddya mean ‘use you’ (y/n)?!” Joe questioned while everyone laughed their ass off. 

“What I mean is, the winner can make me do something and I won’t be able to refuse, but... but... nothing inappropriate and nothing which could hurt others. Those are my rules, other than that I’m good with whatever the winner makes me do, cause I trust you all equally.” 

Conor looked up at you with a weird smile and you giggled, “Not you though, I don’t trust you.” 

You picked up your phone and informed the camera, “I have my questions and my score board here,” you showed the boys your notes on your phone without giving away too much. “Shall we get started? Question number one,” 

In an instant, all of the boys dropped their side conversations and diverted their full attention to you. Your mouth opened to read a question but you glanced up and snickered, “Why’d all of you just get so serious so fast?” 

They looked around at each other and also laughed at their behavior when Oli answered, “It’s cause we really wanna win that prize.” 

Your eyes widened and you spoke to the camera, “Am I gonna regret ‘winners choice’?” the guys started talking again but you interrupted, “ANYWAY! Scenario #1: If I was a time traveler, where would I go: the future or the past? And what would I do there? I’m open to your explanations,” you finished but then a detail came to you, “Remember: more than one of you can get points for each question so you guys can team up and discuss, but there can only be one winner, in the end.” You looked around to find them still watching you, “Go on!” you had to say before they began talking amongst themselves.

Jack, Mikey, and Josh discussed on your left but you heard that they disagreed with each other so Josh quit sharing with them. 

Conor and Caspar whispered near your legs, but you didn’t think it was an answer being talked about because they were giggling and rambling on. 

On your right, Joe had turned to face Oli and they seemed like they were actually being serious about the answer so you leaned in closer when Joe turned around and smiled, surprised that you were so close to his face. 

You were tempted to kiss him, and you knew he was too, but the boys were watching so he just began talking with a silly accent, “Excuse you, ma’am, how may we help you?” He asked while extended his neck out to you, making you move back into your original sitting position. 

You chuckled before to trying to eavesdrop on the others again until everyone was ready with their answers. 

“Ok let’s go in a circle, starting with Josh, ending with Joe.” You said as you clapped their shoulders at their names. 

“I think you would travel to the past, before WW2 and try to stop Hitler.” He said so with a serious face.  

You nodded, “Alright, next: Jack,” You peered over Josh and met Jacks eyes who was just finished giggling at something he and Mikey chatted about. 

“Ummm... I think you would travel to the future and visit a personal milestone in your life,” he glanced at the camera before mumbling, “Like our marriage.” 

Which made the guys chuckle but you just rolled your eyes at him and moved on to watch Mikey answer. “I- uh-” he chuckled nervously, “I think you would travel to the past and meet your mother?” He sounded like he was guessing which cracked you up. 

“She doesn’t need to time travel for that, she could just hop on a plane,” Conor joked. 

“Oi, you know what I meant!” Mikey argued as he pointed at Conor. You just laughed it off and looked down at Caspar for his answer. He said past too, and something about bananas. 

Then Conor went, giving the funniest and most unbelievable answer ever, following him it was Oli who was actually the closest to something you would do then finally Joe went. 

“I think you would travel to the future and maybe meet your future self -not a milestone or anything- but ask a couple of questions- maybe try to pinpoint any mistake you made so you could avoid them after you return to present time?” He seemed really into his answer and the more he explained it you could imagine yourself doing that too. 

“Alright good answers, boys, out of the seven of you, I only found three to be something I would do.” The boys leaned in closer to hear who got points, “ the first point goes to Oli-” he pumped the air and smiled as you continued on, “ the second point goes to Jack! I would totally visit a future milestone in my life- just not our marriage- cause that won’t ever happen-” you said with slight disgust as you faced the camera before breaking character, “And the last point goes to...” you waited for effect before swiftly turning the other way and meeting Joe’s eyes, “Mr.Joe Sugg!” He cheered and shouted in victory but you looked down to see the opposite in Caspar and Conor. 

Caspar began- pretend- crying. 

Conor stood up and began swearing profusely which made all you of a laugh, “This game sucks!-” he acted, “You’re a liar, (y/n)- a liar, I say!” He stormed off the frame before entering back with a large grin on his face. He ran a hand through his hair and sat back down for the next question. 

You cleared your throat and waited until everyone was done chatting to carry on to the second question, hoping it wouldn’t take as long as the first question/answer because, after every answer, the boys got too distracted & started having side conversations and wrangling their attentions back for the video took all the energy out of you. “Guys, question #2:” they quieted down and listened, “If I had no obligations for 24 hours, and had the ability to do whatever I wanted, what would I do?” You decided to let the boys answer in whatever order they felt in and reached the end of that answer session. 

Caspar, Joe, and Jack got points at the end of the round since they all predicted that you would either just sit in your room watching tv/youtube or try to meet your idol. 

After a few questions, you decided you needed a break so you called a time out and checked the clock. 8:38. 

“You boys wanna order pizza?” You asked as you held up a pizza place pamphlet. 

“Sure.” Caspar voiced before he went back to chatting and joking around with the others. You tried calling from the living room but the boys were so loud that you had no choice other than going into your bedroom. 

You pulled out your phone and began dialing the pizza place when the door closed and two arms wrapped around your waist. You turned around to find your boyfriend, Joe, with a smile on his lips. 

“I didn’t get to tell you how gorgeous you look,” he leaned into to give a soft kiss. 

When you pulled away you looked up to meet his eyes, “How’re the boys? Do they suspect anything?” 

Joe chuckled to himself then answered, “I don’t think so, me and you’ve been best friends for so long, they’re just used to seeing you and me so close, I mean- Jack can’t stop flirting so-” 

You chuckled, feeling bad for Jack but also delighted that you were so good at keeping everything under wraps. “I know, I know, but something tells me that he’s just doing it all for this video, something’s changed & I just think he’s pretending.” 

Joe nodded and took a step forward, making you take a step back, towards your bed. “Hey,” you whispered, “Not right now,” you warned trying not to smile as he continued walking you towards the bed. His hand rubbing circles on your hip, underneath your shirt. Your legs hit the edge of the bed and you two fell onto the bed. 

“The door-?” You pointed. 

“Locked,” Joe smirked as he laid on top of you. 

“Joe,” You met his eyes, “we can’t, not now, but later tonight maybe...” your hands wandered from his chest to his stomach, before beginning to tickle him. 

He rolled off of you and squirmed as you tickled him even more. Wrinkles around his eyes and laugh lines around his mouth gasped for air in between the laughs. He was about to laugh a little bit too loud so you quickly covered his mouth and ‘shhh’ed. 

The two of you froze but you shouldn’t have put your guard down because, in a swift motion, Joe was on top of you, his hands pinning your wrists down. You gasped but kept the volume down, “Joeseph Graham Sugg, let me go or else someone won’t get to sneak into my house at night,” you warned and gave him a smirk, you could even see the gears in his mind turning. 

He quickly rolled off you and you two just laid there on the bed, side by side. He interlaced his fingers into yours and you turned to face him, “I don’t wanna keep this a secret anymore. I don’t want to keep us a secret anymore.” Your eyes grazed over his lips and went to his sapphire eyes.  

“I know, (y/n), but I don’t know if the fandom will be open for us yet.” He also turned on his side and placed his other hand on your waist. 

“Yeah, I don’t know if the fans should know just yet but the boys deserve to know, I mean they knew that we had crushes on each other, and I think they deserve to know that we’ve been dating for a month now.” 

Joe smiled at the thought of not having to hide this relationship in front of them then nodded, “Yeah, let’s tell them tonight itself.” 

“Tonight?” 

“Yeah, the whole gangs here, let's.” 

You smiled and bit your lip before nodding, “I’m ok with that.” 

Everyone had pizza in their hands and stared at the camera with a deadpan expression, just so you could put in a clip of the break in the video, “That’s good!” You yelled and everyone became normal again. Pizzas were laid out in the center of the coffee table. 

Conor, Jack, Mikey, and Josh were sat in a circle around it. Joe, Caspar, You and Oli were sat on the sofa. 

After dinner, You and the boys got back into position and decided to start filming again. You & Joe glanced at each other, trying to contain smiles and went back to playing the game. Around the sixth question, you looked down to see Caspar stroking your leg which made everyone crack up but after that, the game continued well, even though there were about ten thousand tangent conversations and inside jokes during the whole filming. 

“Who’s winning, (y/n)?” Oli asked as he peered around Joe. 

You checked your count on the phone and looked up with a mix of surprise and shock, “It’s me, isn’t it?” Conor said while grinning at the camera even though he only got two points so far.  

“Ummm actually it’s tied between Caspar, Jack, and Joe.” 

“What?!” Conor yelled pretending to through a fit, “Lemmeseethat!” He rambled as he lunged for your phone but then pulled back, making everyone laugh, “No but seriously,” he went deadpan, “How is Jack up there?” 

“Yeah, how is he up there?” Josh asked in disbelief. 

“What does that mean, mate?” Jack asked with hints of annoyance.

“Alright, Alright, I just called it like it is, you guys still have four more questions to redeem yourselves-” 

“Mikey has a negative point?!” Joe interrupted as he gazed at your phone.  

“What?!” Mikey questioned as he stood up and took your phone to find that Joe was only messing. 

“Mikey, sit down, he was only joking,” you told as he nervously chuckled along with Joe before taking his place again. 

The next three questions flew by and Joe & Jack were still tied but Oli took Caspar’s place in the tie. 

Getting the group of boys to focus again after the previous round took a few moments but you were now ready for the last question. “Ok boys, this is the last one. It’s fairly easy too. Ready?” you asked as you looked around, “If I had a superpower, what would it be and why?” 

The boys took a few moments to discuss amongst themselves. Josh had just given up or he must’ve made up his answer already because he just sat there in silence. Joe was the next one to finish, so he picked up his phone and began scrolling through Insta. Soon all of the boys were ready for the answers so you pointed at Caspar to start them off. 

“I think you would have X-ray vision because you love being nosy.” 

You cracked a smile and glanced at the camera with a puzzling look. 

Following Caspar went Conor, then Joe, then Josh, and so on until everyone had given their answer, you awarded points to Oli and Jack, which meant they were tied. You didn’t know what to do, you wondered if they could ‘rock, paper, Scissors's it but your discussion with Joe came back to your mind and you decided to add a secret question which would be edited out of the video. 

“So do we both win, (Y/n)?” Oli asks with a toothy grin, glad that he won. 

“Actually, I’ve decided to add an extra question worth two points,” you bit your lip, glancing at Joe from the corner of your eyes, “It’s not gonna be in the video though, so umm... yeah lets get to it.” They were a bit confused but they complied when you told all of them to pull their phones out and have the notes app on so that they could show you the answer without any others hearing and agreeing. 

“Ok.. ready? Phones out?” The boys nodded and watched you, your heart beating faster than ever as you opened your mouth, “I’ve been keeping a secret for the past month, what is it?” 

The boys began typing quickly and finished in an instant. “Conor first.” He handed you the phone and mumbled something to Jack before erupting into laughter. You read his answer and closed your eyes before cracking a smile, “No, I am not ‘pregnent with an alien baby’, Conor.” 

The boys broke out in laughter as you shook your head and grabbed Josh’s phone. His answer wasn’t correct either, so you just moved onto Joe’s phone. He obviously knew the answer but he just wrote: ‘You’re cute AF and IDK how lucky I am to have such an amazing woman as my GF and best friend.’ You blushed like a strawberry but got him out of your thoughts and moved on while avoiding eye contact. Following him was Oli, then Caspar, so far none of them had guessed your relationship secret yet but you also knew the chances of guessing that was slim.

Next went Mikey followed lastly by Jack’s phone. He had a smirk on his face as he handed it to you. Mikey tried peering onto his screen but you grabbed it fast like a child. You looked down and read his answer and your eyes went wide, “Oh my god!” Joe glanced and gasped too, “How, Jack?!” you yelled out, he took that as a win and cheered. 

“I knew it!” 

“Wait, what?” Caspar asked as Jack continued cheering. 

Joe decided to tell the others, “(Y/n) and I-”

But Jack yelled out, “JOE AND (Y/N) ARE DATING!” 

What followed after that was just a blur for you. They were all happy for you two obviously but it was overwhelming answering so many questions, at least the guilt weighing you down was gone and you felt open to being yourself around the boys again. 

After lots of explaining and well-wishing, everyone had settled down to film the outro. “So who won the game, (Y/n)?” Conor asked as you all acted normal for the camera. 

“Well... after a very intense round of ‘rock, paper, scissor’s,” you lied, “...Jack Maynard is the winner!” You hung your head in fake sadness as he stood up and cheered. Later, after he settled down, you finished the outro and the boys began filtering out of your home. 

Caspar and Josh left first, they had a meeting the next day and it was pretty late. Next was Mikey, then Oli. 

You were laying on the sofa with your head on Joe’s lap as you two chatted with Conor and Jack. “Ugh go back to being a secret if you’re gonna be so cute,” Conor said with fake disgust written across his face 

“Hey, what’s done is done, mate.” Joe leaned down and kissed you before tickling your side a little. 

You were gonna respond to Conor but a thought came back to you. “Wait, Jack, how’d you know me and Joe are dating?” You sat up and snuggled into Joe’s side. 

“Oh,” he chuckled, “I was editing Sunday’s vlog when I noticed Joe give you a cheeky kiss on the lips, in the background of one of the clips.” 

You scoffed, “Joe!” You playfully slapped his arm, “I told you not to be so obvious-” 

“Sorry, sorry-” 

“Now that Jack’s won, who knows what he’s gonna make me do-” 

“You got yourself into that, (Y/n)” Conor told making you chuckle. 

“Even though I did know you two were dating, I made it till the end of the game without that affecting my points, I still would’ve won cause I know you the best.” Jack shrugged, “I was just trying to get Joe jealous and admit your relationship himself but that never happened.” 

The realization dawned on you, “Ohhh, that’s why you were flirting so much with me-” 

“Yeah who in the right mind would flirt with you, (Y/n),” Jack joked while gagging. You turned to Joe with a sad puppy face but ended up laughing. 

“Jack, you’re true gentlemen,” Conor said sarcastically as he stood up to leave too. 

“You betcha,” Jack said with a cheesy American accent as he stood up too.  

#Joe Sugg #ThatcherJoe #joe sugg x reader #buttercream gang #buttercream squad #joshua pieters #casper lee #Conor Maynard #jack maynard #Oli White #mikey pearce #dicasp #OliWhiteTv #joe sugg <3