#it puts me in UTTER hysterics i have no idea why

[chrollohearttags]

that cabin eren look has changed the trajectory of my life and given me the stupidest idea ever lmfaogekgs! Just walk with me for a minute

content: musician au ofc, sexual references, reverb lore (?), ony, armin and connie being aggravating as hell lmfaooo, comedy them being big ass kids, ony using the n word (nb’s keep it cute)

📝: I’m reporting live from the ER so I need something to keep me entertained. 😭 this is so dumb, forgive me.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰──── ───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰ ───

“Nah, tell them folks the full story! Go ahead.”

“Look at him getting embarrassed. He’s so cuteee.”

the sound of clicking keys and controllers rang out over the headsets, among the loud laughter and chatter coming from those wearing them. The four illustrious artists, EJ the Don, Armin Hammer, Prince Cee and Ony The God; forming the collective known as Dead Boys Society were normally coming together to perform their many hits, or even comprise music. But tonight? They had a whole other reason..or two rather!

“Tell your mama’s story, bitch. Ain’t nothing to talk about.”

on one of the very rare occasions that the gentleman accrued some free time, they decided to host a Twitch stream. Playing video games, previewing new music and just having a good time. That was until they decided to bring them out…the infamous photos.

Ony, who was in full blown hysterics, falling out of his chair in laughter as he hoisted his phone to the camera. He could barely even be contained. “Look at this nigga, bro! You couldn’t tell him shit.” And the others followed suit. “Malibu’s Most Wanted looking ass.” Armin was just in hysterics, trying to cover his face. Eren, however was not as enthused! “Say sum’, Armin. I dare you and I’m going dead in your shit when I see you again.” “Don’t get mad at me because you were the mall whore. Getting passed around.” Which was so ironic coming from him! Because during the stream, the conversation of their previous lives and how they met came about. Ony divulged that he and Connie had known each other a long time and even went to school together. The pair played basketball as well. When they were seventeen, they began working at the Bayside Mall in a shoe store. Which is where they met EJ, who had just enrolled at their high school as well. The three became really close and eventually that they not only shared an affinity for sneakers but music also. They’d compose songs, make beats and mess around during their shift. When the three of them worked together, the store was packed to the brim, even with a line out the door. Due in part to their main attraction: the cute boy from Jersey with the green eyes and the voice of angel. At any given time, there would R&B and rap playing and he would know every word. Definitely a rarity in the urban area! Connie, who vividly remembered him wanting to be in the stock room but the manager insisting on Eren being on the floor. Thanks to Ony’s suggestion! Because of that, every girl from here to Opa Locka wanted a piece, even telling him they wanted his baby! It was utter chaos. “(Y/N), ma. I’m sorry but your man had hoes. In there serenading them girls and they used to eat that shit up. They loved him. He had like three baby mamas and four step kids before he left.” Rolling his eyes, Eren would take a sip of his drink and try to interject. Defending his honor because lord knows no one else would! “Nah, they were trying to exploit me. Pimping me out for corporate gain. Bunch of bastards.” And (y/n) was just enjoying this little storytime of your man. Exposing his younger self. So when Ony showed the photos of him in his uniform with a gold chain, a tapered fade and Nikes on, posing with his fingers up, you couldn’t help but to laugh. He was just as adorable then as he was now! It most certainly wasn’t his proudest moment. Hence why he loved having hair long now.

“A white boy with a fade singing Pretty Ricky and Trey Songz and you thought we wasn’t gon’ put that nigga front and center? That was our meal ticket. We had to do something.”

and you fell clean over, unable to hold it together! Along with the chat who was spamming a plethora of ‘LMAO’ ‘s and scrambled letters. A mess! “If it means anything, baby. I think you look handsome.” Squeezing his cheeks and cooing to him as consolation. And he was not trying to hear it.

“It don’t mean shit, but thank you, princess.”

He blocked everybody that night and refused to give you any dick for a week straight because of this lil’ escapade. 😭 “I thought shit was funny, what happened?”

#cherry’s works 🍒✨ #aot x black reader #black fem reader #musician x influencer au #aot au #eren x black fem!reader #black fanfiction #eren x black reader #musician au #aot onyankopon #connie springer #armin arlert #black reader #they should’ve never showed us that version of him #aot imagines #aot drabbles #aot headcanons #eren headcanons #crack headcanons #humor post #humor is my coping mechanism #eren jaeger #eren yeager #he was mad y’all 😭 #aot #snk au #snk headcanons #snk imagines #reverb series #eren aot

[lovebillyhargrove]

Part 2 of Billy hates Health

***

"Who THE FUCK put a fucking dildo in my locker ??"

Hargrove's voice is booming in the school hallway. It's between angry and .. what is it, amused ? Why is it fucking amused ?

Billy's turning away from the locker to scan the faces of those who happen to be around. People have heard the question. There are faint gasps and surprised giggles spreading across the hallway. Harrington pretends to be digging in his own locker searching for a book, although he's dying to see Billy's face right now. How pissed is he exactly? Or better yet, how embarrassed ? He can't look now though, not that fast at least, or he'll betray himself right away.

Some guys are gathering around Hargrove to take a look, and Tommy is of course the first one to put his nose inside Billy's locker

He's whistling

"Looks like you got yourself a secret admirer, man."

Carol is snickering and all the guys start laughing and whooping loudly, girls just hiding shocked giggles in their palms.

Steve thinks it's safe to watch the show unfold now. However, he quickly becomes disappointed.

Because that's definitely not the result he wished for.

Hargrove doesn't look embarrassed at all, what the hell. The motherfucker is grinning, like life has just got so much more interesting. He takes out a box with an average-size skin coloured dildo and raises it above his head for everyone to get a better view.

"Oh look, there's a bow wrapped around it!" Carol, Tina, Vicky and other girls are close to being hysterical now

"Didn't know this school had welcome gifts for newcomers. Not bad, Hawkins High, not bad at all."

"Why would anyone .. how would you even use it ..?" Carol's curious, for fuck's sake, Carol is blushing but Hargrove just looks entertained

"You're asking very good questions. Let me just .."

Billy bends and whispers something in Carol's ear while she covers her mouth in utter delight, eyes getting bigger and more illuminated

"Easy, bro!" Tommy is playfully shoving him away

"That's my girlfriend. Hands off." Carol looks intrigued and excited and not like she minds Billy whispering obscenities to her

"Sorry, man. My bad." Hargrove raises his hands in the air as if apologizing. He's still holding the box in one hand and throwing the other one around Tommy's shoulder, talking low so that only he and his significant other can hear him

"Maybe you and Carol can have some fun with that thing? I bet you can't get something like that around Hawkins. Someone must've put real effort into it."

Carol scrunches her nose in eager disgust, and Tommy looks interested but shakes his head, laughing

Billy looks around until his eyes lock with Steve's.

"Yo Harrington! Any idea how it got into my locker, man?"

Steve is shrugging his shoulders, lips curved in a mocking smile

"Nah."

Harrington can see that Billy wants to say some more but restrains himself

"I'll just keep it here in case anyone needs it .. for some fun and games."

There's a teacher turning the corner and walking towards the loud gathering of teens

The crowd disperses, Hargrove bangs his locker closed, people still laughing and joking about the whole thing

Nancy comes back from the bathroom

"What happened here?" She takes Steve by the hand.

"Ugh, nothing. That new guy just wants attention, as always."

"Let's get to class."

"Sure." Steve kisses his girlfriend's cheek.

"You seen it, man? The fucking sex toy??" Tommy is going to talk about it for a week.

Nancy speeds up and Steve has to follow.

Damn it. Fucking damn it! That is not the outcome Steve was hoping to achieve. He wanted to see Hargrove's face turn red, wanted others to make a couple of nasty jokes. It seems he can't really make people dislike Hargrove cause they already love him so much. Even Tommy, his best friend since forever, is not immune to Hargrove's charm. The way Billy was easy about the whole thing, the way he's easy about a lot of things? Breezy and carefree, the way he can laugh anything off, and people will laugh with him. And still there's like an iron wall inside him, that hidden strength, he never caves.

Why is he not ashamed? Why is he not afraid?

What the fuck is his secret? And what the fuck is his problem ??

Steve is not listening to Nancy. He's not listening to the teacher during the class. His mind is busy with more important stuff.

So yeah, it was Harrington. He put a sex toy in Billy's locker. The whole affair needed some preparation, of course. Effort was definitely applied. At the weekend Steve drove to fucking Indianapolis for that. He found a sex shop, put his sunglasses on, got inside, grabbed the first dildo he saw, paid for it in cash and drove back to Hawkins with a wildly beating heart. Then on Monday he stayed late after classes, and picked Hargrove's locker. Looked around inside it. Nothing special, just books. A picture of the ocean waves rolling on the vast sandy beach stuck to the door. Must be California or wherever this asshole is from.

He stuffed the dildo in Hargrove's locker with a bright red bow wrapped around the box. Valentine's Day is too far away. Surprise, bitch, October Valentine's.

No but seriously the motherfucking ass bitch. Why is he so fucking annoying, so annoyingly calm?

So the plan didn't work. Okay. Maybe it was stupid from the beginning. But Steve? Steve would totally be pissed if he found a gift like that. Tommy would launch a whole investigation, sniff out and crucify the joker. All guys would be furious, like .. whatever would they need a dildo for? Is there an implication hidden in there?

But that jackass Hargrove didn't bat an eye. Cool like a cucumber. Yeah it all started with the giant cucumber he had given Harrington during that memorable health class, when Steve felt the underlying agenda, a probable insult like Hargrove was fucking with him.

Hence the dildo. Maybe Billy can stick it up his ass and unwind a bit. Leave Harrington alone.

Shit. It all played out not like Steve wanted it to. A weekend wasted. And he blew off a date with Nancy, for that.

Well, no, wait, wait. Not really. Every failed attempt is an experience, right? Now Steve knows that if he wants to bring that arrogant dick down a notch, no big harm done, he has to strike on a different level. Deeper.

Steve's gonna make him embarrassed. He's gonna make him fucking humble. He might just have come up with another way to do it. Another plan.

He can sense there's something wrong with Hargrove. Something .. something Steve has never come across face to face before, it's in the way he taunts Steve, in the way he looks, no, stares at him. There's a secret, there's a problem, and Steve's gonna take advantage of that.

Why does he want to do it? Steve just hates to be the used to be the most popular guy. Yeah, he's got a girlfriend now, a serious one. Relationship material. Well, maybe too serious, really like .. he likes her, loves her probably, but he's been trying to make her loosen up a bit, you know? Try something different other than sweet and romantic and missionary. Shake her down for some fun. All in vain. Anyways, that's not the point here. So yeah, Steve's in a relationship, and Tommy has told him many times that he's walking a slippery slope of becoming pussy-whipped, but he's still fucking King of Hawkins High and he doesn't want some Californian self-entitled hotshot, the fucking pleb coming to his town and all of a sudden stealing the crown? All girls' eyes are on that ass, drooling to get a ride in the flashy blue car. All guys want to be his best friend. Tommy has been following him around like a bitch on a leash. He's doing good at school, he's superb at basketball.

Stupid fuck.

Harrington is not ready to let go of his title that easily. He still wants to be crowned prom king at the end of school year. He doesn't want to lose to that piece of trash who thinks he's the hottest shit.

Also, you know what, Steve would actually be absolutely fine with this new pain in the ass called Hargrove, if he minded his own business. The thing is, he doesn't. He comes at Steve, he thinks he can take the fucking liberty of making obnoxious remarks, stick his nose into Steve's business, fucking push him around during practice like Harrington's some kind of loser? Hargrove's been doing it since day fucking one, who the hell does he think he is?

Steve's not mean. Well, he's not the meanest, really. He never bites first. The freak Byers? He deserved his camera to be broken. The creep was taking pictures of them, of his girl, in the middle of the night, without them even knowing it. What should Steve have done? Should he have patted him on the shoulder, great photos, man, real artistic shit, wow, do you mind taking a couple while we are actually making love?

Steve only bites when he gets bitten.

There is something else, too.

On top of everything, deep down, he hates the fact that whenever he's lucky enough to have seldom sexy time with Nancy, Hargrove's always somehow at the back of his mind. Fuck knows how and why he got there. But he's there. Every fucking time, and Steve absolutely hates it.

So he sets the new plan in motion.

It's really simple.

Next time they are in the showers, Harrington throws a glance at Billy. Doesn't say anything, throws another one. When Hargrove looks back, Steve averts his eyes. It's a matter of milliseconds.

Next day when they have basketball practice and Hargrove starts his usual dance, Steve pushes him back like he usually does, only gentler. Just a tiny bit, a whiff of less force, but Hargrove notices. It throws him off his game, like an unexpected stumble, and Steve is sensing it, like a hound.

In the showers he looks at him again, a second longer than the previous time.

Confusion is written all over Hargrove's face under his usual asshole expression.

Steve can feel it in his gut that Hargrove, despite being smart, has taken the bait, hook line and sinker.

Maybe, just maybe Steve has an idea what Hargrove's secret is, and he can make it work in his, King Steve's, favour.

Now all he has to do is wait for the right moment, keeping the interest up in the meantime. The moment when Billy slips, gets too greedy, and takes a big bite, Steve will hook him fast and reel him in.

Watch him choke on it.

Not for everyone's amusement, but exclusively for his own.

He will make this asshole humbled.

***

Parts of this and this season 1 Steve vs Billy

#harringrove #billy x steve #harringrove fic #season 1 steve vs billy

[doobea]

dooby baby, this reads as an utter fanmail okay. im putting you up in the stars for a sec, u dont know me <3

so, while there a lot of fics that i like here. the one that truly hold a spot in a very "i think back to this every month or so" way is the "i need something back from my ex" hcs. like isagi and shidou make me so hysterical back then. also hey maybe that was one of my awakening as isagi kisser but at this point i dont even know anymore. i think i was reading it beside my friends and i think they actually think about disowning me for a sec because of how i laughed. it really made my day and give me strength to continue my thesis when i first read it. thank you so much <3

as for runner up: reo "daytime shooting star" series. definitely. this one is like. okay, i will admit a sin, back then i looked at reo and goes "oh he is fine i guess. not my type tho" and??? yeah now that i think about it somehow your fics have power to convert me into a lovesick mess for a character. reo tho. yeah like. i don't even know where to begin with this one. also not still not fully in jjk rn, but the google choso fic? glorious. im still far from a choso girlie but i go "awwwwww" as if im seeing a kitten taking his first step.

okay that's all <3 love u dooby <3 this one is grateful to be able to know you in this lifetime *ancient chinese drama actress voice*

omggg that was one of my first ones i posted back in july LMAO i had a lot of fun writing shidou's part (and to this day i've been meaning to expand more on other characters..) and omg not you reading besides your friends (im too shy to do that adhkslad i usually start reading at like 10pm in the safety of my bed) and thesis??? girl you're so smart haha it always impresses me to be reading some life updates from my moots and then realize that all of you guys are so cool and sophisticated LOL

also i will admit a sin.... i can understand why reo is attractive but he's not my type (but you already know my type in men so it makes sense) and i had a hard time characterizing him when writing the series tbh... but i also wanted to challenge myself because i find rin and sae really easy to write and i figured reo would be hard so that's why i made the series in the first place (outside of the second lead romance trope - which is soooo fitting for him) maybe when the movie comes out i'll have a better frame to work with in case i ever want to write something for him again hehe

hehe i have so many ideas for choso (and barou) but i'll slowly make you dive into jjk... there's like 10 different aus that i put choso in my head and he's like the type to be cold and awkward around ppl he doesn't know but turns into a weird mushy loving man around ppl he cares about and that's his charming appeal to me ;;;; love it when characters have two completely diff sides to them HAHA

and omg i'll raid your inbox later with my own fanmail... BUT THANK YOU FOR THIS BABY <3 <3

#doobea answers⋆˚✿˖° #💭: popponn

[wheretheresaway-theresawilliam]

Chapter 4: A Rich Man's Son

Word Count: 973

TWs: Parental arguments

⛤⛤⛤

“Will Michael be presentable for dinner?” William asked in a hushed tone. He stood opposite to his wife in several senses. Some could compare William to a taller, more well-kept Santa Claus, while Margarete may as well have been a splinter in the pad of his thumb. Where William was more internal with his battles, Margarete was outwardly neurotic.

“He better be,” she growled. “Comes in the house covered head to toe in dirt and oil, whyever did you let him take up that mechanics apprenticeship??”

“Because he was booted from the hockey team and I needed him out of the house for as long as possible, Margarete.”

“Why can't you get control of him? Where's his respect, why hasn't he turned out like Elizabeth?”

William stared at her with a briefly surprised expression before folding his arms. “Why can't you?”

“Excuse me?”

“He's your son, too, you know.”

She laughed hysterically, nearly spilling her wine. “Compare me to that whore, will you?!”

“Shhh!” William glanced anxiously back toward the living room. “Need I remind you that we have a guest? Or have you finally given up on upholding our glittering reputation?”

“I can see why you'd gravitate toward someone like her, though. You’re perfect for each other.” Margarete snorted while William's ears burned. He snatched the wine glass out of her hand, stepping close enough for her to feel his breath.

“Kitchen. Now.”

Fussing under her breath, Margarete turned on her heel and stomped away to the kitchen to finish any last-minute preparations. William sighed heavily, running a hand over his face before pouring what was left of Margarete's wine into the pot of a nearby houseplant and returning to the living room.

“I do apologize for my disappearance… could I get you another spritzer?”

Norman shook his head. “No, but thank you for the offer. And don’t worry about it… I'm just, er, happy to be here, heh.”

Oh, you poor thing. William had to physically bite his tongue to keep him from uttering it aloud. He dusted off his hands absently after putting the empty wine glass atop the liquor cabinet. “Well, dinner will begin shortly, now that Michael's gotten off his shift. I forgot that he worked tonight.”

“Where does he work?”

Ugh, horrible idea to mention him at all. “The mechanic's shop on Page Street.”

“Ah. Doesn't mind getting his hands dirty, then.” Norman spoke lightly and William forced a smile.

“That he doesn't. Speak of the devil…”

Michael had appeared, less than happy, in the doorway. He wore a grey baseball tee and flare-leg jeans, his hair so permed it made him completely unrecognizable from the rest of his family. His skin was also notably a few shades warmer, practically brown next to his father. “What happened to the button-down I left out for you?”

“Gee, dad, that monkey suit upstairs was for me?”

William cleared his throat, eyes blazing at the comment. Michael glanced at Norman as he walked further into the room.

“Right.” He offered his hand. “I'm Mike.”

Norman stood and shook it. “Norman, pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

The teenager rolled his eyes. “I'm sure.”

“Michael, that's quite enough. The least we can do is show Norman we aren't a pack of uncivilized animals by having a nice dinner with the man. Now, why don’t you make small talk while I check that everything’s ready?” William gladly excused himself from the conversation, leaving Norman and Michael to their own devices. The two stood around awkwardly. Norman could tell Michael would rather be doing anything else and began racking his brain for something he might be interested in talking about.

“Your dad told me you work at the mechanic's shop.”

“Yeah, and?? Who are you, anyway?”

“... I suppose he didn't tell you… why would he? I just started work at Fredbear's and he wanted to congratulate me on surviving the week.” Norman was practically glowing as he reminded himself of why he was even here. Michael stared at him.

“William must really like you. What do you even do at that place?”

It was a little jarring to hear the man's son refer to him by his first name, but he quickly recovered and answered, “I'm just a janitor at the moment.”

A grin spread on Michael's face. “You know what that makes you?”

“What??”

“The biggest loser I've ever met, and that's saying something because have you seen my brother??”

Norman frowned, shrinking away from Michael's unkind words. “Don’t you think that's a bit rude?”

“Does the phrase, ‘go suck a lemon,’ mean anything to you?”

“Michael, go get your brother and sister. It’s time to eat,” William’s oddly calm voice made them both whip around to face him, unsure of how long he had been standing there.

“Yes sir,” Michael responded with a mocking salute, speeding out of the room. Norman silently followed William to their dining room.

“Do tell me if Michael was rude to you at all. We've been working on curving that vicious tongue of his.” William prompted softly as they walked.

“It was fine,” Norman lied. “He was mostly quiet. We talked about his job.”

William's expression became puzzled. “Quiet? Doesn't sound like him at all.”

Norman shrugged. “I guess I wouldn't know. Maybe he met a chick.”

William laughed. “Yes, very good. Michael, getting himself a girlfriend. Brilliant.”

When they entered the dining room, William drew out a chair for Norman. “You'll be sitting between my sons, I hope that's alright.”

“Fine by me. Whatever you've cooked smells delicious.” Norman sat, anxious to get on with the night.

“I do hope you'll like it, but I won't spoil the surprise.~”

When Michael, Elizabeth, and Evan entered the dining room, William directed them to their respective seats, then disappeared into the kitchen to help Margarete serve the food.

#fnaf #fnaf au #fnaf fic #five nights at freddy's #fnaf oc #william afton #afton family #michael afton #accursed heritage au

[ljsstories]

Chapter Sixteen: Damage Control

"Why do you think you are here today?"

"Don't patronise me! You know and I know exactly why I'm here!"

"Yes but it would be beneficial for both of us if you described the events that led up to you being here, can you walk me through it?"

"I'm an addict, you do the math!"

"There's no need to be so defensive, there are no judgements here, only understanding."

"I thought this was rehab, not a hippie commune!"

"Jensen I cannot help you if you do not want to be helped. Clearly part of you does seek support or else you wouldn't be here."

"Yeah? Well you try saying no to two hysterical women wringing their hands, wailing, and gnashing their teeth by your bedside as you get your stomach pumped!"

"Jensen? I am here to help you, please...talk me through the night you started drinking again." Jensen thought back to that fateful night just over a week ago, he could still feel the cold breeze rising up from the Hollywood hills as he lay bleeding on his living room floor. He could still hear the screams and cries of his mother and sister as they were met with a bloodbath, it was amazing how several tiny cuts could make that much of a mess. The next thing he remembered was lying on a hospital bed after having the contents of his stomach pumped and his family all sitting around him like he'd actually died. "You took pills, is that correct?" Jensen's new therapist, Jenna Riley, talked him out of his trip down memory lane with yet another question, what was with all these psychologists and their constant questions? He nodded half-heartedly, yeah there were pills involved...again, although he really didn't mean to kill himself this time but no matter how much he tried to convince his mother and sister of that, it fell on deaf ears. He doubted that this shrink, a very dear friend of Charlie's as his sister had put it, would think any different. "What made you take the pills Jensen?" Another fucking question, when would they stop?

"I...I have no fucking idea, it seemed like a solid plan at the time! I just wanted the pain to stop!"

"What pain?"

"The pain of losing everything before I could even get it!"

"Losing what Jensen?"

"Losing her!" Feeling Jane slip from his fingers was the worst feeling he had ever experienced, to have her so near yet so far had been complete and utter torture. To know that his younger brother was with her every day cut him deeper than the glass window he broke that night. The real kicker was that this situation was all of Jensen's own making, he'd sent Jonah over there to get out of the way and he ended up having everything Jensen ever wanted...to be with Jane! "Losing her is the worst...I've never felt anything like it in my entire life. I've been engaged and dumped and I've even felt suicidal to the point where I took pills and wanted everything to end...but the thought of her being in my world and completely out of reach...it hurts...so much...I think she broke something inside of me like..." Jensen turned his head in shame, was he really going to tell this therapist the truth? No...at least...not yet! "She put me back together and then she tore me apart, how can someone do that to another human being? I mean, I know she's going through her own personal hell right now and my brother told me that what I did was so completely selfish that she'll probably never talk to me again but..." Jenna Riley stared at him, her expression hard to decipher, as he continued to rant. "She never really talked to me anyway, so what's the difference?" He laughed bitterly, "Well the difference is that I at least had her attention, I was at least a good guy in her eyes and now..." Still Jenna continued to stare blankly and nod now and again, "Now she truly does hate me! According to Jonah! Oh and he hates me too, for making him come back and leave his new sweetheart all alone. That's on me! Hell everything is on me so if you've got a problem you want to pass the blame onto someone else for? Well, get in line!"

"This her you refer to, this is Jane?" Another blank nod from Doctor Riley.

"Yeah, Jane! I see you've been brought up to speed?" Jenna smiled bashfully and looked down at her feet.

"I...I like your kind of music. I was actually engaged to a friend of yours once upon a time..." Ohhhh that Jenna, Dexter Maloney's ex! That poor girl, she was completely in love with him while she was merely a rebound for him. If there was anyone who knew what he was going through it would be Dex, he and Lainie were happy now but it wasn't always that way. Keira was conceived when they weren't even together, the elevator story, everyone knew that now, how Dex and Lainie went out for the night as friends and got completely drunk then the elevator in their apartment building broke down and one thing led to another. Ashton Maloney, Dexter's brother, found them the next morning all snuggled up together on the dirty floor. It was a famous tale that Sweet Cacophony reaped benefits from for years, girls swooned and guys had respect for the lead singer. After that, when Keira was born, they continued to dance around each other. It wasn't until Keira was a year old that they finally got together, it had been a long journey for them but they eventually made it. How? How did they do it?

"Yeah, I thought your name was familiar. Do you...still talk to Dex?" She shook her head sadly.

"No, sometimes it's healthier to cut all ties, well it was for me. It's not easy to discover that the man you were going to marry was in love with someone else all along. But enough about me, what about you? How are you going to deal with your situation with this Jane?"

"Um, well she calls it Stockholm Syndrome..." Jenna wrinkled her nose in confusion.

"Stockholm Syndrome? That's when the victim of, say a kidnapping, has feelings of affection for their captor, feels empathy, trust even, how does that apply to your situation?" Oh shit! Why did he say that? Was he trying to tell the truth? Jensen rubbed his hands down his thighs and took a deep breath in and then out.

"So, anything I say to you in these sessions are confidential, right?"

"Yes..." She nodded uncertainly, "...I sign a Non-Disclosure Agreement for every client here!"

"So you're like a priest, yeah? You can't go to the police or tell anyone what I tell you, right? Even if there has been a crime committed?" The look of horror on her face was concerning, but then he saw something else in her expression, like she'd hit the jackpot.

"Anything you say to me is strictly confidential, just between the two of us, yes!" She nodded with a strange smirk on her face, "Jensen, did you commit a crime? Did you do something to...to Jane?" Was it wise for the truth to finally come out? Jensen was about to find out.

***

Monica was home, she seemed a little more upbeat than usual and that in turn made Jane feel upbeat too. The occupational therapist had arranged for carers to visit twice a day to help Jane, she was unsure of what these carers were supposed to do, her mother had a list of medication to take and she didn't know whether she was supposed to administer it or leave it to these carers. Monica also seemed keen to eat anything that Jane made her, which was promising, as they waited for the evening visit, the first one since Monica had arrived home in the afternoon, they were both nervous. "What do we do?" Jane looked to her mother.

"I don't know!" Monica shrugged; she was still dressed but very tired so Jane helped her to get into her nightie when there was a knock on the door followed by a hello. It was the carer who looked about twelve years old but seemed very friendly.

"I didn't know what you did so I just...I helped her get ready for bed..."

"That's fine!" The carer smiled, "I'm here to do whatever you need!" They discussed what was required of her, simple things that would make Jane's life a lot easier, it seemed like things were going to work out well. Monica was happy, but not prepared to be left alone that night as she asked Jane if she would sleep in the room with her. A mattress was put on the floor and Jane, along with Daisy the dog who Monica had only seen once since her hospitalisation, slept there for the night. It was uncomfortable but worth it, even though Jane had to get up half the night to take her mother to and from the bathroom. She was exhausted the next morning when another carer arrived and helped Monica wash and dress while Jane had a shower and ate some breakfast. Eliza wanted to help but Jane knew that she was hurting over Jonah's abrupt departure, Jensen Reed had a lot to answer for! Thinking back to that day when Eliza had come to Jane's room telling her that she needed her to come downstairs, that it was Jensen. She thought he had appeared on the doorstep again, never in a million years did she expect what had really happened. Jonah was distraught, his brother had fallen off the wagon and was extremely drunk on the other end of the phone, apparently having drunk dialled him.

"He said that life is a crock of shit and he didn't wanna live it! How could he do this when I'm thousands of miles away?" Jonah had cried while he piled his things into a suitcase, "I've called Ian, he's gonna pick up the rest of my stuff from the cottage and then we're leaving. As soon as I hear back from Jules, I'll get her to book us a flight to L.A. I..." He looked at Eliza who was also crying, she hadn't expected to be separated from him this soon, "...Eliza I don't wanna go but..."

"I understand!" She nodded, Jane's heart broke for her, for them both, it was hard to watch. "You'll give me a ring when you land?"

"Of course baby, of course! I wish I could stay, with you guys but..." Looking at Jane this time with yearning in his eyes, "...you've all been so nice to me, I've never felt more part of a family in my life. Janey I'm...I'm so sorry!" What was he apologising for? For having to leave, or for the unacceptable behaviour of his older brother? Maybe it was both! "I'm just...fuck Jensen and his fucking...I hate him for this, I really do! Just when I..." Jonah trailed off and stopped what he was doing, with fistfuls of clothes, he sighed and turned to Eliza, "...I don't wanna fucking go!" Eliza wrapped her arms around his waist and lay her head on his chest, as they wept together Jane wanted so badly to fix this but she knew that it was out of her hands. Jensen had destroyed another two lives with his selfishness, her thoughts took her back to that day at the police station. He had made her out to be a complete lunatic, calling her a liar and a fantasist when everything she had told the constables was true...he was the liar, not her! Watching her sister have to say goodbye to a guy she had fallen head over heels with made Jane both angry and sad. "I'm just waiting to hear back from my mom or...or Jules I...he promised he'd never do it again, he fucking promised!" Suddenly his phone lit up, it was his sister, as he listened intently to her, wiping his hand down his face and letting out a few expletives, he was getting angrier the longer the phone call went on. Eventually he said goodbye and hung up, throwing his phone into the pile of clothes in his suitcase! "You're not gonna fucking believe this!" He looked at Eliza then to Jane and back again. "So my mom was the first to arrive at his place, then my sister came in at her back as she was screaming. Jules thought he was dead mom was screaming so much, his living room window was smashed to hell, his T.V. is completely destroyed, they found him in a pool of his own blood and vomit. From what they could see, he'd thrown a bottle at them both and there was glass all over the place. They called an ambulance and he's on his way to the hospital right now, alive by the way, not dead although he will be when I get there! They found his anti-anxiety meds empty so they're not sure whether he took them all or if he just tossed them in a rage I dunno!" Jonah licked his lips and closed his eyes, trying to control his own rage, "He has ruined everything!"

"Jonah he could've died, he still might! Don't you have even the tiniest bit of sympathy for him? Aren't you worried about him?" Eliza asked in disbelief, looking up into his blue eyes.

"Why should he?" Jane couldn't believe she'd said it out loud.

"Janey!" Eliza gasped as Jonah nodded in agreement of Jane.

"He did this to himself, for what? Why did he do it? What is so bad in his life that he had to resort to this? Is his mother dying of cancer? Is his life completely ruined by something that he did, a crime that he committed and can't ever forgive himself for? How does he justify being so fucking impulsive?" Jonah was nodding even more at Jane, as if she had hit the nail right on the head.

"Janey he's obviously in some sort of pain, what the hell is wrong with you?" Eliza shook her head at her, "You're a psychologist, have some compassion!"

"No she's right, he's the fucking worst!" Jonah agreed with Jane, much to Eliza's dismay as she looked at both of them disappointedly. "Look I don't wanna argue, I don't know how long I have until Ian gets here, so let's not get into this. All I know is that once again my brother is controlling my life from far away!" Jonah looked defeated, angry but defeated and Jane could totally relate. She felt bad for holding him at arm's length because now she was actually going to miss him. "I'm so sorry Janey, I really am!" He had to stop apologising, it wasn't his fault and Jane understood that.

"Just...be safe!" She had no idea what to say to him, he was a stranger because she'd made him that way, she should have made more effort. Watching how he was breaking his heart over leaving Eliza, she could see that the boy was in love! She was instantly caught off guard when he pulled her in for a hug, standing awkwardly as he squeezed her gently and sighed.

"You're the best Janey, you really are! Thanks for letting me stay here with Eliza, I appreciate you putting up with me because I know you don't really approve of us and that's cool, I understand!" Jane managed to wrestle her way out of his embrace and looked up at him with seriousness.

"Jonah, it's not that, it's...look I know you care very much for my sister and I respect that. You make her happy and that's good enough for me!" Jane could feel arms around her from both sides, Eliza at the back and Jonah at the front. If only she had embraced Jonah Reed sooner, that was her only regret about him having been here, that she didn't give him a chance. Remembering that double hug and how sad they all were that Jonah had to leave, she looked over at her mother sitting in her reclining chair watching the television, she looked so tiny and frail but Jane was going to do something about that. In every cup of tea she made her there was a tablespoon full of double cream, same with scrambled egg...everything had double cream in it including the canned soup she would heat up for her. Jane was going to put meat back on her mum's bones if it killed her. She did think about Jensen sometimes, but they weren't positive thoughts anymore, not after what he did. Jane was shocked by her own feelings just like Eliza was, this was not who she was, she cared about people and she tried to help those that were in physical and emotional pain so why did she not feel for Jensen Reed? The full extent of what had happened to him in the middle of that night in Los Angeles came to light when Jonah finally landed back home and phoned Eliza. Jensen had argued with their mother and stormed out, he'd driven to an off license, or liquor store as they called them in America, bought two bottles of Jack Daniels and headed home to drink himself to death. He had indeed taken his anti-anxiety medication and mixed with the booze it made him even more depressed, he'd smashed in his television and a giant window in his living room. When his sister and mother got there in the middle of the night straight after Jonah had contacted them, Jensen was lying on top of tiny shards of glass from the window that had cut his skin all over, tiny shallow cuts that made a hell of a mess apparently, blood and vomit everywhere as Jonah had already told them before. He had regained consciousness when the ambulance arrived and had become quite violent towards the paramedics, when he got to the hospital he had his stomach pumped as he wasn't making much sense and they couldn't determine how many pills he had taken. He was on the verge of alcohol poisoning and he suffered an acute kidney injury. He was in a really bad way but still Jane couldn't find it in her heart to feel sorry for him, as far as she was concerned he brought it all on himself. Even her mother scolded her for her attitude, telling her that this wasn't her, she was right, it wasn't! Why did she feel nothing but hatred for him? He had been through an ordeal! He had been so utterly unhappy that he'd almost killed himself, he claimed it was an accident and that he never intended to end his life, but his mother and sister didn't believe him. Now he was in rehab, it was all over the news, and his family were not allowed to contact him until the people in charge of his care decided otherwise. They would get updates from a Doctor Jenna Riley, who happened to be the ex-fiancée of Jane's beloved Dexter Maloney. Jonah would call Eliza several times a day, sometimes forgetting about the time difference and waking everyone except Jane up, she was awake anyway keeping an eye out for her mum. Eliza was now worrying herself sick that Jonah was going to cheat now that he was halfway across the world and out of her reach. He did have a reputation but Jane could see how much Jonah cared for her sister, she doubted very much that he would be interested in anyone else, not at the rate he was keeping in touch, someone who called their girlfriend as much as Jonah Reed did was not going to stray any time soon. Still Eliza talked to Jane about this regularly, it was always on her mind and if she wasn't careful it might put a strain on their relationship. If Jonah had no intentions of straying then mentioning it constantly might drive him to do so, that's if Eliza had actually brought it up with him, she really hoped she hadn't. Jonah was good for her, despite her previous reservations, he brought out the best in her.

"I'd like to lie down now!" Monica's voice suddenly caught Jane's attention, she didn't seem to stay in her chair for very long and preferred lying on the hospital bed that the occupational therapist had provided for her. Jane just wished that she would perk up a little, she was home surrounded by family and the dog was happy to see her, why couldn't she focus on the positive and enjoy what time she had left?

"You could always lie in the chair mum."

"No, my side is sore again, can I lie on the bed?" Jane reluctantly helped her mum back onto her bed, if she was being honest she lost her the day they had to give up her space, the day she was told she had the chest infection. Monica never really got over that even though she ended up at Woodland View eventually, her fight was gone. Jane just had to fight that little bit harder for the both of them, and she did, guiltily forcing her mum to eat when she told her she felt sick. She wasn't going to give up as easily, maybe it was selfish of her to make her mother even try, but all Jane knew was that she wanted as much time with her as possible. Ricky would hardly spend any time with Monica, it was hard for him to be in the same room, he was lucky he had a choice, Jane had to be there twenty four hours a day whether she liked it or not. She even had to sleep on the floor of Monica's room every night, something she thought she would only have to do the first night she came home but ended up doing it permanently.

Eliza was in a bad way, missing Jonah terribly even though they spoke several times a day on the phone and he would Facetime her now and again too, they would just gaze at each other, not saying much and Jane found it rather cute. When she wasn't talking to Jonah, she was weeping over their mother and how she wanted to help but wasn't as strong as Jane. Where was everyone getting this from? That Jane was so strong? Jane was not strong, she just had to get on with it, someone had to and it wasn't going to be her dad or Eliza! Since Monica had returned home she had left dealing with her stoma to Jane and the carers, she would take nothing to do with it, to her surprise Jane was dealing with it well, what other choice did she have? There was no time for moaning and arguing with everyone, there was work to be done and who knew how long they had left with Monica? As she boiled the kettle to make her mother some tea, Eliza appeared and sat herself down on one of the chairs at the centre island. "Janey? I think I'm going to split up with Jonah!" She was what? Jane turned to her sister with her mouth gaping in shock.

"Why the fuck would you do that?"

"Well..." She sighed and picked up the saltshaker, "...he's so far away and I can't focus on mum while he's over there! Let's face it, we're doomed!"

"No, no Liza you're not doomed! When he was here did you get on?"

"Well yeah..."

"And when he left, were you not heartbroken?"

"Yeah..."

"Then why the fuck would you dump him? He's got enough shit going on with that brother of his, he doesn't need this! What harm does it do talking on the phone and video chatting now and again? Eliza don't throw this away! When mum's gone what will you do then?" Eliza stared at her sister with a slight frown on her face, probably wondering why she was team Joliza all of a sudden, a nickname Eliza had made up, not her!

"I suppose..." Eliza sighed and placed the shaker back down on the counter with a pout, "...I was trying to get in there first! It's only a matter of time until his head is turned by some Hollywood bimbo, let's face it, I can't compete with the plastic people!" Jane threw herself down beside her and took hold of her hands.

"You are beautiful! Jonah is crazy about you, he adores you! I see the way he looks at you, any girl would kill for a boy to look at her that way!" Eliza gave her sister a twisted smile.

"You mean the way Jensen looks at you?" Jane sighed and turned away from her sister, "Oh come on Jane! That day at the hospital? Who turns their jet around fifteen minutes before landing in Austria to fly to Scotland..." Jane shook her head, trying to block out Eliza's words, "...who does that? Just to visit someone in hospital. Jane, no one does that! Unless..." Don't say it, do not say those words, "...unless they're completely in love with that person?" Jane stood up and poured water into a mug for her mother's tea.

"We're not talking about me Eliza; I swear if you dump that boy you'll regret it for the rest of your life! And I'll be pissed off with you because I always wanted a brother!" She could hear Eliza huff and let out a frustrated growl as Jane was left alone in the kitchen, why did she have to bring up Jensen Reed? Once again he was becoming a thorn in her side, she just wished he would go away!

***

"Well Jensen I think we're making some good progress here!"

"Really?"

"Yes, you're talking a lot more and that's always a good thing..."

"I'm only talking to you because you signed an NDA! No other reason than that...and I needed to get this off my chest!"

"Yes of course you did, it's a lot for one person to keep to themselves for two whole years. Besides, you need to deal with the trauma you suffered during your abduction..."

"Whoa!" Jensen raised his hands and stood up from his chair, "I have no trauma, she didn't hurt me she healed me!" Jenna nodded sadly then pressed her pen to her mouth as if she was choosing what she said next very carefully.

"Jane committed a crime Jensen, she kidnapped you and chained you up, locked you in a room for several days..."

"Hey! I told you she freed me every morning!" He pointed an accusatory finger at Doctor Riley.

"Yes, and I accept the fact that you would sub-consciously chain yourself back up again before she came back, I do take that into account but..."

"No! You don't get to blame Jane for anything!"

"And that is the problem! Jensen you don't accept that she did anything wrong in any way, shape or form!" Jensen threw himself back down and melted into the soft chair, folding his arms roughly and looking anywhere but at his therapist, "You also don't acknowledge that you have caused Jane considerable trauma too!" He turned to look at Doctor Jenna with an angry glare, "Jensen, you pursued her relentlessly with letters and tickets, you even turned up on her doorstep! Can you imagine how frightening that must have been for her? To see you standing there in front of her out of the blue. Not to mention the way you acquired her home address! Jensen you broke the law too!"

"I know that! I know all of this, why are you dredging it back up?"

"Because it's my job! I know this is painful for you but we need to go through everything in minute detail in order for you to heal. This is the second time you've overdosed and fallen off the wagon, how do we stop it happening again?" Jensen stared at her and shrugged his shoulders, "We address the trauma, we acknowledge the faults on both sides, we see Jane's point of view and we also talk through exactly what happened to you and why it was not okay, even though you feel that it was...it wasn't!"

"She's a good person!" Jensen blurted out defensively.

"Yes, she is, I am not denying that! The facts though, they speak for themselves! She abducted another human being and held them captive for nearly two whole weeks! That's a big deal Jensen, and if she truly had healed you, been your salvation, then you wouldn't be here right now. Would you?" Damn, she was good! Way better than Sweater Boy, she was fucking good at her job, she deserved an award or something!

"So how do we start?"

"At the very beginning, leave nothing out..."

"But I've already..." Jenna raised a hand to silence him.

"We start at the very beginning, again, and you leave nothing out this time. You describe to me every feeling you had and every moment you were there with Jane...everything Jensen! Even if it's something you don't want to say out loud, something you don't want to admit...you have to!" Jensen nodded reluctantly and did as he was told, he started from the beginning...again!

"I was just finished a show in Glasgow, I wasn't in the best of places. I was drinking again, just enough to take the edge off, my meds weren't working so I thought I'd add something extra to the mix. I didn't realise that mixing Zoloft with booze would just make me even more depressed..." Jenna nodded with a knowing smile, "I had to have dinner with a fan in the hotel where I was staying that night. It was supposed to be private, off limits so my manager had booked a room for just the two of us, I had taken five times my dose of meds and washed them down with a mouthful of Jack so as you can imagine things were about to take a nasty turn." Another knowing nod from Jenna as he continued, telling her how he was becoming drowsy but soldiered on, he ignored the girl sat across from him and even ordered her meal without consulting her, he was the ultimate douche bag. Then the fans appeared, his security detail was nowhere to be found, "And then I grabbed Jane's hand and I...dragged her to the elevator! I took her along for the ride!"

"So you feel like it was your choice to go with her, that technically she didn't kidnap you, you went of your own free will?"

"I must have, how else did she get me in the car? The next thing I knew I was in a dark room, my left ankle felt heavy, I was gonna be sick so I felt my way around and ended up in this bathroom. I spent most of the night hugging the toilet I was so sick! I only remembered that part a long time after, because before that my memory began when I woke up the next day and she was giving me painkillers and water."

"Have you remembered anything else that you forgot about that night?"

"Not that night, but some things have come back, in little pieces. Like how she would unchain me and leave the door unlocked, I didn't really notice at the time but there was a specific click when she locked the door and I don't remember hearing it any time she unchained me. She told me when she threw me out that she'd given me loads of chances to escape, if I close my eyes and concentrate..." He did just that as Jenna sat listening patiently, "...I can think back to all the times she left the window open; it would have been easy enough for me to slip through and escape, or shout out for help to the house next door. I could have easily overpowered her and got out, but I didn't! I put it down to the fact that for the first few days I was shaking, sweating and desperate for another drink. I think the last thing on my mind was escaping, it suited me to be chained up because I couldn't get another drink, I couldn't hurt myself or cause any trouble!"

"So, Jane was trying to get you to leave, subtly, and you didn't want to?"

"Yeah! I realise that now! I told myself that if she hadn't thrown me out I'd have stayed with her forever, she listened to me, I was so sick of being controlled by Bryan, the way that Jane controlled me was different. She controlled what I ate and drank, when I was allowed to be unchained and when I could shower...it felt like rehab, it really did!"

"But it wasn't! She made a mistake and she tried so desperately to correct it but you wouldn't let her!" Jensen looked at Jenna with surprise, "Let's talk about the day she let you go, what made you finally leave?"

"She was...mean to me..."

"But you said that she was mean to you at the start, what was different this time?"

"I don't know, it hurt more!"

"Because you felt like you were friends?"

"Not friends exactly, kindred spirits maybe? I just thought we were past all that and she came in and said the most horrible things!"

"How did that make you feel? How did you feel about her after that?"

"Angry! Hurt and betrayed? I dunno, all I know is that I was this close..." He demonstrated with his thumb and index finger how close he had been, "...this close to reporting her to the police, I stood outside the door for a few minutes and I nearly went inside!"

"Why didn't you?"

"I couldn't! I was going to kill myself the night she took me! If it hadn't been for her I'd be dead, I was alive because she took me! Do you understand?" Jensen's face felt damp as he realised he was crying.

"I do!" Jenna smiled at him, "I understand your point of view and I understand Jane's, but when you strip the emotion away from it, what you both did was very wrong and that is what I need you to accept!"

"I know!" Jensen wept, "But I love her! I love her!" Jenna sighed, looking down at the ground as if a lot of this felt familiar to her.

"Just because you love someone, it doesn't mean that they are meant for you. I don't mean to belittle your feelings but...sometimes we can fall for the wrong person at the wrong time, or even the right person at the wrong time. Do you honestly think that if you'd met Jane in passing that she would have made such a lasting impression on you? Would you have taken one look at her and thought that was the girl you were going to marry and nothing was going to stand in your way of having her?"

"I can't answer that because it didn't happen that way, but I did fall in love with her and I do want to marry her! What the fuck does it matter how I got there?"

"It matters a great deal Jensen, remember the first meeting we had and you mentioned that Jane told you that you were suffering from Stockholm Syndrome?"

"Yeah, she tried to use fancy words to trivialise my feelings!"

"No Jensen, she may have had a point. I want to look into this further, I want you to try and be logical about your experience and the circumstances that led you to falling for Jane."

"I don't care how it happened, it happened! I love her and I want her to see that, all I ever wanted was to be with her! When I sent Jonah over to Scotland, it was to get out of my hair, to give me a break! I never thought in a million years that what I so desperately wanted would just fall into his lap so fucking easily!"

"He got to be with Jane, while you were over here touring?"

"Yes! It came so easy to him, something I'd worked my ass off for, for two fucking years I tried so hard to get Jane to see me! To give me just a tiny piece of her, to give me the time of day!" Jenna handed him a tissue as he felt more tears trickle down his face, "He went over there and within two weeks he was welcomed into her family with open arms and I was out in the cold as usual!"

"As usual?"

"Yes, Jonah was always the needy one who got everyone's attention, and I could live with it when it was my mom and sister but when he took Jane too..." Jenna looked at him expectantly, "...she was supposed to be mine, someone that nobody could take away from me, nobody could touch!"

"Then Jonah ended up living under the same roof and it tipped you over the edge?"

"Yes! Jane and I have a connection, we're soulmates!" Jenna closed her notebook and placed it on the coffee table in front of them.

"I think we'll stop here for today; you'll be emotionally drained after that. I appreciate that she is special in your eyes and that to you it feels as if you're soulmates but..." She trailed off as Jensen's eyes widened, "...I want you to sleep on it for now, we can pick up where we left off tomorrow. Good work Jensen, we really are making progress, even if it doesn't feel like it yet."

"Before I go..." Jensen sat forward in his chair and continued to look Jenna in the eyes, "...Dexter!" He could've sworn he saw her roll her eyes at the mention of his name, "Are you over him? Did you move on?" Her sad smile told him everything he needed to know.

"I don't think you ever get over someone like Dex, even though I ended things I never stopped loving him. I just realised that he was never mine in the first place, he always belonged to Lainie. Sometimes when we fall in love with someone, it feels like they are our entire world and that we'll die if we don't get to be with them. I went through that feeling for a long time, it's the reason I don't speak to Dex to this day, I miss Keira and I'm sure she wonders where I went but it was easier for me to just cut off all ties. What I'm trying to say is...maybe someday you will have to do the same thing with Jane, cut off all communication in order for you to begin to heal, it's what I had to do." Well that didn't help at all! As he left Jenna's office, walking down the hall to his room felt like walking miles. He never wanted to forget Jane, he just wanted to find a way to prove to her that what he felt was real, hopefully Jenna would see that and help him to win Jane over...someday. He was finally allowed to call his mother, after over a week in the facility, only he wasn't sure he wanted to. All she was going to say was I told you so and he really didn't need that right now. But to his surprise, it wasn't what she was saying at all.

"Jensen, beautiful boy! Oh it's so good to hear your voice! I've missed you baby; can you ever forgive me for...how are you?"

"Um, I'm fine. Forgive you for what?"

"I can't help feeling like it's all my fault, I was being too pushy I know that now. I take no pleasure in my behaviour sending you to rehab baby boy, I hope you believe that!"

"Mom, I was a powder keg! It was only a matter of time. Besides, Doctor Riley is amazing, way better than Sweater Boy! How is he by the way? Balls deep in big sis I'll bet!"

"JENSEN!!!" He heard his mother gasp on the other end of the phone, it made him smile, he might have been in rehab trying to slay those demons but there was still a bit of the old him in there.

"Chill mom, you do know they're fucking right?"

"Jensen don't be so crude; I am aware that your sister has a gentleman friend. She's a thirty six year old woman, what she does with said gentleman friend is her own business! Now, how's the food? Is it gross? I bet it's gross! As soon as I can I'll be in there with cookies and cake!" Jensen's smile grew into a warm grin, thinking about his mom's cookies, not as good as anything Jane ever baked, but good enough.

"Yeah I look forward to that! How is Jonah? Still not talking to me?" Steph remained silent for a moment, Jensen thought about his brother travelling back from Scotland, leaving his girlfriend behind, all because of him.

"Oh you know, he's not happy but he'll get over it. He talks to Eliza every day; they Facetime a lot too! It might take him a while to...you know, but I'll come and see you as soon as I'm allowed!"

"Tell him I'm sorry, will you? I didn't mean..." What exactly could he say to Jonah that would make a difference? What would sound like less of a lie? Because Jensen was secretly happy that Jonah was no longer under the same roof as Jane, that was just driving him crazy. At the time it didn't matter to him that it would risk his relationship with Eliza, he wasn't exactly thinking straight, all that bothered him was the fact that Jonah got to see Jane every day.

"I think we should just leave that alone, don't poke the angry bear honey. He worries every day that Eliza will break up with him over the distance, it keeps him awake most nights so he's usually video calling her when he should be sleeping, I think our boy's in love!" Big deal, Jensen was in love all this time and no one cared, they just poked fun or made light of his feelings. Tough shit Jonah! He didn't mean that, if he really was in love with Eliza then it was a shame that they'd been forced apart, except Jensen liked it that way. What had happened to him? How could he be so cruel? Maybe Jenna could help him with that too.

"Okay, well I miss you! I just wanted to hear your voice!"

"Call again soon sweetie, please?" Jensen agreed to do just that the next time he had the chance, he still didn't have his cell phone, he was only allowed to use the public phones they had scattered all over the facility and even at that he needed a special card with credits. Back in his room, he thought about what Jonah was going through and tried to feel guilty, but he was just glad to get him away from Jane, the longer the better. As soon as he was better, he was going to take Juliet up on her offer of managing a newly reformed River Monster, keep little brother busy, keep them both busy. He was aware that he would need a distraction when he got out and what better distraction than writing songs and recording with his band? He had a lot riding on Doctor Jenna Riley, he was trusting her with the most intimate details of his life, telling her things he hadn't told another living soul...he sure hoped this was all worth it!

⏮️Previous/Next⏭️

#YouAreTheReason #writeblr #writerblr #writing #writing community #writers of tumblr #writers on tumblr #wattpad #story #story telling #tw suicide #tw drugs #tw alcohol #tw illness #tw cancer #tw addiction

[tenshindon]

its such a niche thing but my favorite thing ever is like. just putting this little fucker :| after a thing tien says

#snap chats #it puts me in UTTER hysterics i have no idea why #its cause its just so tien #hes so deadpan about like 90% of things i love it so much #you could throw it after Literally Anything and it would suddenly be very in character #fuckin yamcha all like 'how are you making that sound with your mouth' #and tien just hit him with 'what sound :|' #im going to ufcking c a c kle #im like a baby and Everything Ever is just a pair of jingly keys

[sserpente]

A/N: That Hyundai ad hit different. *chuckles*

Words: 3097 Warnings: kidnapping, hostage

New York smelled pretty bad, come to think of it. You had almost forgotten the hustle and bustle of this huge city that never slept and if there was one thing you had not been missing at all after spending a few months in Morocco for work, it was the constant traffic jams.

It was hot, unbearably so. You’d been a sweating mess ever since your cab driver had picked you up at the airport and the fact that the air conditioning in the cab was broken didn’t exactly help with that. Your thighs stuck to the leather of the backseat, your forehead glistening and your make-up… well, it used to be make-up.

The cab driver seemed nice, at least and since the long snake made entirely of cars had not moved for at least an hour now, he had offered to park on the side of the road and get you both a bottle of water. Ironically, you were only a few yards away from Stark Tower.

Perhaps you shouldn’t complain about the traffic jam. Half of the city was a mess after the atrocious battle you had been fortunate enough only to have witnessed on the news on the plane. You could only hope that your tiny studio flat was still intact and quite frankly, it was short of a miracle that a cab service had actually agreed on picking you up so shortly after an almost-war—not to mention that the plane had actually landed.

You sighed, brushing a strand of hair sticking to your cheek out of your face. You were unbelievably tired—even more so knowing that you had dodged a catastrophe that would go down in history all thanks to work. Your eyes fell shut and you leaned against the car window when suddenly, the driver’s door was all but yanked open and someone who certainly did not resemble your cab driver, started the car and clutched at the steering wheel as if his life depended on it.

Your lips parted. Shackles and a muzzle, along with a blue glowing cube landed on the passenger seat with a loud clatter, followed by an annoyed groan. It was him. The man who had attempted to take over the entire planet only moments ago, he was here in this car and he was currently kidnapping you with it.

A scream escaped your lips, a mixture of shock and fear spreading in your body and fuelling the rising amount of adrenaline. It was only then the God of Mischief glanced at the rear-view mirror and spotted you there panicking—but by then, he had already stirred the car back on the road, straight towards the traffic jam.

“You… you are… Let me out! Let me out at once!” You screeched, the heat around you—along with your miserable appearance—all but forgotten. Loki rolled his eyes. Great. Another mortal.

“I am not stopping this car,” was all he said. Your eyes widened in utter shock.

“Then don’t! Fuck!” Danger was radiating off of this man like heat from an active volcano; so if necessary, you would jump out of the moving car as well. Biting your lower lip and wondering if you should go through with this risky stunt at the speed he was going, the wheels squeaking over the asphalt with every abrupt turn he took, or if that would be a suicide mission. It was probably the latter, and when you reached for the handle of the back door, it took the God of Mischief only a mere second to lock it, trapping you inside.

“Let me out! Let me out!”

“You’ll kill yourself.” Loki spat. You did not miss the patronising tone in his voice—stupid. He believed you stupid.

“And if I stay in here with you I won’t?” You retorted hysterically. And it was justified, really—for when your gaze drifted back to the road ahead of you, you could see him racing straight towards a long line of cars waiting for the traffic to clear up.

“Watch out! The other cars, watch out! Oh my God…” You screamed, squeezing your eyes shut and covering your face with your arms but the imminent crash never came. When you opened your eyes again, Loki had all but moved through the other cars as if by magic. God, what was this, Harry Potter?

With your heart in your mouth, you brought your trembling hands to your thighs and pressed down on them in a desperate attempt to fight off the panic attack rising within you like the forthcoming eruption of a volcano.

But even when you reached the suburbs, ironically moved closer to your home, and the car finally slowed down to a reasonable speed, making you wonder how a god from another realm knew how to drive a car in the first place, your dread kept growing steadily. What would happen once Loki decided he had reached his destination? What would he do with you? Would you end up as another casualty? You’d know where he was, after all, and only God knew how he had managed to escape after the Avengers reported his capture—not to mention that he was in the possession of that mysterious blue cube you were certain bore even more chaos and destruction in the wrong hands.

“I take it this vehicle is supposed to be a means of transport in exchange for payment?” He suddenly said.

“What?” You gaped at him, swallowing. “Yes! I mean, yes, it’s a taxi. That’s… I was…”

“Where do you live?”

“Excuse me? What, are you going to drop me off and expect me to tip you?”

Loki smirked. He couldn’t quite put his finger on why but he did like your feistiness. “I need a place to hide.”

“What… no! No! I am not giving shelter to a criminal!” You snarled, swallowing your fear of him—and then you made the mistake of peeking at the navigation system the taxi driver had set up next to the steering wheel, with your address on bright display to show Loki exactly where he’d have to go.

The God of Mischief tilted his head. “You don’t have much choice in the matter, my dear.”

You took a deep shaky breath, digging your nails into the backseat. If your lower lip was trembling, you didn’t notice. “P-please… please just let me go. I promise I won’t tell anyone where you are or where you went. Please.”

“I am not going to kill you if that is what you are worried about.” He replied after a long pause. When you said nothing, too stunned and scared to come up with another snarky comment, silence spread in the car like wildfire.

Hugging your knees to your chest, you closed your eyes, hoping that this was a bad joke, a terrible nightmare and any moment now, you would wake up safely on the plane, yet to land in half-destroyed New York City—but the end of slumber never came. You were wide awake; even more so when, after what felt like hours, Loki finally stopped the car. Of course, you had not noticed him observing you repeatedly through the rear-view mirror, almost as if to check if you were still alive.

Your eyes met and then, finally, he unlocked the doors. Only now, you did not move an inch. You had no idea what to expect if you stepped out of this car.

Naturally, Loki disagreed with your cautious decision. He yanked the car door open when he saw you frozen in place, grabbing your upper arm so fast you didn’t even have a chance to react, and all of a sudden, seeing the entrance door of the apartment building you lived in did not at all look as appealing as it had at the airport anymore.

His grip around your arm was firm but when you whined in pain, the God of Mischief actually softened it—if only a little, barely noticeable.

“Unlock the door, my dear, will you?” He inquired, smiling sweetly at you. Right beneath the surface, you could hear that there would be dire consequences if you failed to comply.

Surely at this point, he could hear your rapid heartbeat. Shaking, you fumbled for the keys in your bag until they were jingling in your palms all the while Loki watched you like a hawk. You had dismissed calling the police on your phone in the car already—for now.

Fuck, you had been kidnapped. You were about to be held hostage in your own flat, or… or… was he just going to enter and kick you out? Had he been lying about not killing you? Would he fling a dagger at you any moment now like you had seen him do on TV?

Loki followed you when you approached the door and unlocked it clumsily. One floor up and to the left. For just a brief moment, you wondered what would happen if you started screaming bloody murder, alerting your neighbours but even when you opened your mouth to attempt it, not a single sound would escape your lips.

Even a little further out and farther away from the centre of New York City, rent prices were horrendous. Your salary was not bad but your apartment was no more than a small studio equipped with a humble kitchen, a separate bathroom with a tiny shower and lastly, your double bed in the centre of the room, posing as your sofa during the day.

Loki looked around unimpressed when he entered. “Well… it will do.”

“N-now what?” You choked out.

Loki raised his eyebrows, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Pretend I’m not even here.”

Right—because that was going to be so easy. He sighed and rolled his eyes when you only stared at him in horror.

“You don’t trust me, do you?”

“W-would you? You tried to subjugate our planet like ten minutes ago!”

“And for good reason too. This realm is lawless, your people slaughter each other day in and out and you feel threatened by me? I would have given you a new purpose.”

He had a point… but… “And what is that so-called purpose? Slavery?” Loki’s expression darkened, making you flinch back.

“S-sorry… I’ll… I’ll be i-in the bathroom taking a shower. Please just… I mean… whatever.” Would he stop you? Hesitating, you made your way to the bathroom, waiting for him to yank you back, press you against the wall and threaten you? Threaten you with what, exactly? Could you trust that he wouldn’t kill you? Loki felt like a ticking time bomb in your flat.

But a painful yank never came and when you locked the bathroom door behind you, you exhaled. Inhaled, exhaled, inhaled, exhaled, trying to process the fact you had a war criminal in your home.

Once you had gathered enough energy to do what you had come to the bathroom for and, an hour later, returned to the main room, Loki was sitting on your bed cross-legged, the Tesseract right before him, glowing away.

“I roamed your ‘kitchen’”, he said without glancing up to meet your eyes, “Do you have anything edible at all?”

“I was away for a whole month.” You argued. “I haven’t done any shopping yet because I was kidnapped by a space Viking.”

Loki smirked. Amused, he finally looked up. “Well, perhaps I should take you back to Asgard with me then. I could use a diligent little servant.”

Your reaction did not disappoint him. Chuckling to himself, he slid off the bed more elegantly than you could ever muster, the Tesseract disappearing into nothingness.

“What I am trying to say is that even gods need to eat and I am, quite frankly, starving.”

“That sounds like a you-problem.” You grumbled. And then, as if on cue, your stomach growled. Damn it.

“Fine. I’ll order some pizza.”

-

Loki had all but watched you like a hawk upon calling the local pizza place. Everything inside of you had screamed to let them know about your predicament, to beg them to call the police and send them to you instead of the pizza.

But as soon as the food was delivered, the mood in your apartment changed so rapidly it left you wondering if the only reason for Loki’s world domination attempt had been his hunger. The man devoured a family-sized pizza in but what felt like two minutes and, upon realising you were done with yours, leaving three pieces in the box, he devoured those as well. And never before had you seen someone eat pizza so gracefully.

It didn’t exactly make it feel like you had been kidnapped anymore. Perhaps… perhaps he hadn’t been lying about not wanting to kill you after all. Perhaps he wasn’t as evil as you… no, stop. He had literally just tried to take over the planet!

“What are you pondering on, little mortal?”

You shivered, the nickname affecting you in a way it truly shouldn’t, especially after he had lost his armour and magically exchanged it for more casual clothes—they still looked like they were from a different time period altogether but it wasn’t nearly as intimidating as before.

“W-why did you really do it?” You found yourself asking. It was a risk—but you were feeling braver now that your stomach was full even though part of you was surprised you had managed to eat at all.

“What?”

“Why did you really try to take over the planet? Did you… do you really want to enslave us all?”

“A lack of freedom does not equal slavery. It offers protection from failure and bad choices.” He said. You frowned.

“You truly believe that?”

“You fight wars over opinions, religions and race among your own species. Your choices are suffocating the whole of Midgard. I would have changed that.”

“You can’t be serious.”

You looked down, reaching for the sweet treat that had come with your pizza to stop your fingers from trembling.

“What is that?”

“Oh, uh… those are marshmallows. This pizza place always packs them with your order, don’t ask me why.”

“What’s that?” He repeated, frowning at the plastic wrapper.

“It’s candy…”

“Well, it doesn’t look very natural.”

Woah. How had this conversation just gone from “humans should not have freedom of choice” to “marshmallows look unhealthy”?

“They’re… I mean they’re not. They’re made of pure sugar and artificial flavouring.”

“Then why do you eat them?”

“Because… because they taste good?”

Loki gave you a taunting look. See? It said. This is what I meant.

But when you opened the package and handed it to him, he took one out nonetheless. It looked tiny between his long fingers—as tiny as you must have looked next to him.

You gulped when it disappeared between his lips. When you reached out to take the package back, he snatched it away from you.

“They are quite delicious, actually.” Your jaw dropped when he popped them all into his mouth at once, winking at you. Not quite sure how to react to this, you averted your gaze, taking a feigned interest in your digital alarm clock on the nightstand instead.

It was only 5 PM but you were positively ready to pass out. Where would you even sleep tonight? Where would he sleep? Would he even sleep?

“You are tired.” He suddenly stated as if on cue. He couldn’t read your mind… right? He did have that weird cube of his, after all.

“Well, yeah… I got kidnapped, experienced a live remake of ‘Fast and Furious’ and I have a criminal in my flat.”

“I only understood half of what you just said but I can ensure you that I will not harm you when you sleep.” There it was again, that frown that almost made it look like he was offended. As if the very circumstance of him hurting an innocent for no reason other than malice insulted him.

“So by all means, retire to bed.” He went on, gesturing to the bed and eventually, standing up to make space for you. The pizza boxes disappeared in but a green shimmer of light and you watched Loki, albeit still suspicious, heading over to the small kitchen table. To be quite frank, it was the last thing you remembered.

-

Loki was gone, no trace of him left. It was as if he had never even been here. It was already past noon—the exhaustion from your flight as well as the racy car drive and last but not least, your shining time as a hostage had worn you out to the point you didn’t even remember falling asleep anymore.

You only realised now that it was your doorbell that had woken you up. Jumping out of bed and moaning when your vision turned black for a moment, you headed over to your speaker and pressed the button. Perhaps it was Loki. Perhaps he had locked himself out but then again… would he not be able to magic himself back in? Why had he insisted on you unlocking the door yesterday in the first place? You shook your head.

“Hello?”

“Hi. This is Henry, I’ve got your delivery.” A boyish voice responded.

“W-what delivery? I didn’t order anything.”

“You did, ma’am, would you come open the door, please?”

You sighed. “Fine, I’ll be down in a second.”

You had fallen asleep in your clothes from last night, so one quick glance in the mirror was all you had before you headed back down and opened the main entrance door.

The delivery boy was holding both your suitcase and a jumbo-size package of marshmallows in his hands. Big marshmallows—the bonfire kind, to be precise.

“Who…” But you knew. You knew the moment you made the connection and knew the moment you looked straight into Henry’s eyes and noticed them glowing unnaturally blue when he handed the items to you.

It had not been a dream then. Loki had really been here. You had been eating pizza with the God of Mischief and now… the gesture was almost sweet. Was that his way of saying thank you? For what? You hadn’t exactly done much except for trembling in fear.

“He instructed me to tell you that you will meet again soon.” Henry announced and then, before you even had a chance to respond, he turned on his heel, hopped back into the delivery van parked in front of the building and left. You only realised now that the Hyundai taxi was gone too.

#loki #loki imagine #loki x you #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson imagine #loki laufeyson x you #loki laufeyson x reader #loki odinson #loki odinson imagine #loki odinson x you #loki odinson x reader #the avengers #the avengers imagine #thor #thor imagine #marvel #marvel imagine #mcu #mcu imagine #tom hiddleston

[therealvinelle]

What do you think the Cullens would do if some person they were talking to, out of nowhere just quite literally exploded in front of, and on them? Kinda like in that movie Spontaneous. Would they lose control and slurp up the mess on the ground, (and themselves) or would their bloodlust be curtailed by shock of wtf just happened?

I'd say something witty about how this is a strange anon to receive, but holy jesus you've sent me down a rabbithole.

Here's a trailer to the movie Spontaneous. It looks amazing. Kevin Feige wishes this had been his plot for Infinity War.

Here's a trailer for the movie Spontaneous Combustion, which I found by accident while searching for your fic. This looks amazing too. Can't believe Marvel didn't buy the rights to this guy.

I'm serious, people, you definitely want to watch these trailers. I just about died laughing.

So, on to your ask.

In the spirit of your ask, which implies a level of randomness, I thought the people blowing up should be random too. So, being in the mood to procrastinate through spending way too much time on tumblr things, I wrote a program that'll generate for me random Twilight characters.

Unsure whether the explosion should kill vampires or not, I generated an answer. The answer is yes, any generated vampire dies.

Without further ado:

Alice watches Vladimir blow up.

Alright, alright.

The first question to be answered here is why Alice is in Vladimir's presence in the first time. In canon they only meet once, at the end of Breaking Dawn.

For the sake of simplicity, we'll have Vladimir blow up then.

The Cullens and the witnesses are all celebrating being alive, when Vladimir suddenly explodes.

For the sake of the ask, Alice is sitting closest to him when this happens and making conversation.

Her first thought is utter shock. Not just that he blew up, but that she didn't see it coming (she wouldn't, because I randomly generated him. No decision was made). Her second thought is horror.

The Cullens just confronted the Volturi, now mere hours afterwards their allies are blowing up.

Holy fuck, Aro has a gifted ace up his sleeve, and he's using it to kill them remotely.

Panic ensues, not just for Alice, but among all the witnesses. Some of them refuse to leave, Bella has to shield those 24/7, though given the belief that her gift is psychic that doesn't make them feel very safe.

The others decide to go after the Volturi and beg for mercy, assuring them they never meant to challenge them.

Aro, of course, is very confused, but agrees. Why, yes, he does have a vampire who blows people up. Yes, yes he does.

Bella watches Aro blow up.

Oh I'm dying laughing at this one. And wishing I'd put this down for Carlisle, that would be even funnier, but alright.

Bella is walking about post-Breaking Dawn, minding her own business, when suddenly Aro appears in front of her. He looks around himself, utterly surprised by his sudden deplacement, and then blows up.

Bella has been living in terror of this man for years.

In Volterra he had his servant torture her and Edward and then made ominious threats, then a few months later the Eclipse disaster unfolded, finally we have Breaking Dawn where he showed up to murder her and everyone she loved.

Her shield may be powerful, but for as long as Aro was alive her family was never truly safe.

His untimely implosion changes all of that.

I imagine after a long moment of incredulity, Bella burns the rubble, just to be sure, then tells her family the joyous news.

Carlisle gives the guy a funeral. It's weird.

Carlisle watches Vassilii blow up.

Close call, due to my not switching out the names we almost had Angela. In which case Carlisle have stood there, covered in blood and in shock for several long seconds, before bringing out the bleach and gasoline for a crime scene clean.

As it is, Carlisle is minding his own business when suddenly an immortal child dressed like a medieval Eastern European appears before him. It says something in a foreign language that might mean "hi", he doesn't know but he says "hi" to it back, then the child blows up.

Carlisle stares at the rubble for a very long time, wondering if he is perhaps losing his mind. If, perhaps, Aro was right about animal blood being a slow suicide, and Carlisle has finally hit the limit for how long a vampire can go on without human blood.

He burns the rubble and prays for the child's soul, as an immortal child is doomed anyway, and keeps his silence about what happened. In part because there's a solid chance this was all in his imagination.

If Aro ever touches his hand again, and sees the immortal child that he burned a thousand years earlier resurrect, travel through time, all in order to blow up in front of Carlisle, he... well there comes a point where you say "nothing to see here" and refuse eye contact with the universe glitching.

Edward watches Randall blow up.

Randall, for the ignorants, is one of Carlisle's friends that came to witness for the Cullens in Breaking Dawn.

Suddenly he appears in front of Edward, says hi and how do you do, and then he blows up.

Edward tells Carlisle, who is saddened by this, and they try to piece the guy together. They fail.

Edward sends a somber thought to this noble man who agreed with Edward that the Cullens are awesome enough to be worth dying for.

Emmett watches Mary blow up.

Emmett will never admit it, but it's the coolest, raddest thing he's ever seen.

Esme watches Eleazar blow up.

Oh boy.

The Cullens are visiting the Denali. Irina has not been dead for long, but given the crystal clear memory of vampires, and the loss they already suffered (Sasha's death traumatized them) it doesn't really matter how long it's been, the Denali are devastated anyway.

The whole coven is as fragile as it can possibly get.

Then, Eleazar goes to join Esme in the kitchen, and explodes all over her and the kitchen.

The remaining Denali and the Cullens are called to the kitchen by the sound of Esme's screaming, and find her in hysterics, surrounded by gray rubble.

The Denali are near catatonic with grief at this point, while cooking has been ruined for Esme. One moment you're making food, the next people are exploding all over your kitchen.

Yeah.

Esme is not okay.

Jasper watches Nahuel blow up.

It's a shameful moment in his life.

But, hybrids are edible.

And that blood was splattered all over him.

Jasper has the worst control fail of his life, worse even than when he failed with Bella because this fail means he can't be around Renesmée anymore.

It's miserable all around.

The one highlight here is that it didn't happen when they were headed to the Volturi trial together.

Rosalie watches Emmett blow up.

Jesus christ, random Twilight character generator, just when I thought you were just going to give me boring results.

Not only does Rosalie lose the love of her life, the guy who kept her together, the one good thing she had going for her who made her life worth living, but he did so right in front of her, blowing up out of nowhere.

There's no explanation to be had, no culprit to be found, no reason for it. She had no goodbye, just as she can have no revenge.

She will never have closure.

Renesmée watches Renée blow up.

We go out on a high note, my god. Well done, generator, I'm laughing.

Renesmée is curious enough about her grandmother to go to Florida. She was going to watch from afar, but finds herself talking to the woman who raised her mother.

It's all going well until Renée suddenly explodes all over Renesmée.

Renesmée's first thought is nothing, she's in shock.

Then...

Well, she was controlled as an infant, so I don't think an adult Renesmée would lose it unless under extreme circumstances, like if she encountered a singer.

More, though, Renesmée might have any reasons of her own not to drink human blood, but she has been raised with this being a big no-no.

So she shouldn't.

However...

Is she ever going to get a better chance?

Ethically, she could easily argue this is the right choice. No one will be negatively affected by this, at least not directly.

The human is right there, already dead, and there's no body so while Renesmée does have to clean up the gore. Hell, if she laps up the blood on her clothes and the ground she will be cleaning up. Why waste perfectly good blood?

If Renesmée Cullen is ever going to have human blood, this is it.

It will come down to how much she respects her grandfather, and how important she believes Renée was to Bella.

-

Bonus, because I'm having way too much fun with this:

Bree watches Atheonodora blow up.

Bree is minding her own business when suddenly a vampire unlike any she has ever seen before, one with hazy eyes and odd skin, appears before her. They stare at each other. Then the woman blows up.

Bree takes this to mean that exploding is apparently something vampires just do sometimes, runs off in a panic and, sobbing, tells Riley.

Riley, having no idea what to make of any of this, tells her it was those evil yellow-eyes with their witchcraft and sorcery.

#twilight #twilight meta #twilight renaissance #jasper hale #alice cullen #edward cullen #esme cullen #emmett cullen #carlisle cullen #rosalie cullen #renesmée cullen #renée dwyer #bella swan #aro #athenodora #bree tanner #vladimir #nahuel #randall #mary #vasillii

[mochegato]

Well, Well, Well, If It Isn’t the Consequences of My Actions

Continuation of Truth Be Told

Marinette was still trying to parse through the events of the previous night.  Time, advice from Tikki, sleep, hysterical laughter, and the alcohol she’d drunk as soon as she’d gotten home hadn’t really helped.  To make it worse, Adrien had noticed something was up with her and had followed her to her studio so he could make sure she was okay, so she hadn’t been able to continue her breakdown in peace, because that would mean explaining the previous night to him.  And although Red H… Jason may have issues with secret identities, she did not.

She looked at her notice-free phone again with a sigh.  Maybe she should restart it.  Maybe he had tried calling or texting, but her phone wasn’t working correctly.  That had happened before, right?  That would explain why he hadn’t tried to contact her yet. Or, maybe with a more sober mind, he had decided he really wasn’t that interested.  Or!  Or he didn’t remember her.  Maybe he didn’t remember anything about her and was staring at his own phone right now in utter confusion about why her number was in it.

She was brought out of her spiral by the sound of the bell over the door.  “Sorry we’re…” she started until she saw who it was, “…closed.”  Her breath caught for a second when Jason smiled charmingly at her. “Oh no, no, no, no,” she muttered to herself, glancing over at Adrien nervously.  This could not be happening right now.  He was supposed to call or text.  Not… how did he even know where she would be?  Damned bats.

Adrien perked up from his spot grading students’ papers, an incredulous grin on his lips.  “Oh my God, please tell me that’s Rose’s boy that you told to fuck off. Can I get rid of him, please?  I haven’t gotten to be destructive in a while.”

Marinette wrinkled her face in disgust at the idea of seeing that guy again.  “No! He happened after,” she said getting up to meet Jason.

“You ran into him after your date?  How dare you not tell me about him!” Adrien hissed at her as she walked away.

She turned around to face him as she walked away. “Oh, I dare,” she hissed back.

“Is he why you’ve been so off today?” he whisper yelled.

“Weren’t you going to go get some coffee?  Now?” She called back.

Adrien looked between the two of them and raised an eyebrow at Marinette making sure she really wanted to be left alone with this guy who was easily as big as her dad.  “Yeah.  I need… caffeine apparently.  Something for you too?”  She nodded at him, but kept her eyes on Jason.  “Hey guy I’m suspiciously not allowed to talk to, you want anything from the coffee shop?”

Jason’s eyes flicked over to him for a few seconds to shake his head.  “No, thank you.  I’m fine.”

“Yeah, you are,” Marinette whispered to herself, not anticipating Adrien passing by just then on his way out the door.  

“Heard that,” he grinned before leaving.  

Marinette glared at him but quickly returned her gaze to Jason.  Once she was sure Adrien had gone and couldn’t hear them, Marinette finally broke the silence.  “I was expecting a call or a text,” she said carefully.  “Not that I mind the in-person appearance,” she added quickly.  “It was just… unexpected,” she finished awkwardly.

“I could have sworn you said to meet you at your work,” Jason said a little more innocently than was natural.  Marinette smiled, but quickly schooled her expression and shook her head.  Jason smiled back and shrugged.  “Huh, must be the memory lapses.  Kind of hazy.  Things come in and out.”  He knocked his knuckles against his head lightly.

Marinette raised an eyebrow.  “Is that so?”

“Yep,” he nodded popping the P.  His smile morphed into a smirk.

“Poor you,” she pouted in mock sympathy.  “Then I don't suppose you remember the proposal.”

Jason's smirk dropped. This time his wide eyes looked completely natural and believable. “Proposal?” he asked apprehensively.

“Yeah, the proposal,” she prompted him.  “Don't tell me you forgot about it,” she continued, her own eyes going wide to match his and her voice turning timid.  “You said you didn't have a ring on you, but you couldn't imagine living another day without me.  You wanted to get married as soon as possible.  Oh no.”  She gasped quietly for effect.  “You have forgotten.”

Jason blinked a few times.  He was doing a masterful job of containing any outward signs of his panic.  Marinette could just barely see a few flickers in his eyes that he quickly tamped out.  “What? No!  No, no, no.  That’s just… No, no, not at all,” he stammered.  “It's just, that's so…” he chuckled nervously, “so not like me.  I'm just... impressed how, uh… how bold I was,” he offered.

Marinette watched him closely for a few seconds before she burst out laughing.  Jason's jaw dropped to the floor.  “You were joking,” he observed in awe.  Marinette couldn't answer.  She was gasping too hard for breath, doubled over and grasping her sides.  “Oh thank God.  I want to be mad but I'm just too grateful. Shit, you almost gave me a heart attack.”

Marinette grinned at him when her laughs finally edged down to chuckles.  “Well, that seems fair.  You almost gave me quite a few last night.  And your brother, I think.”

Jason grimaced.  “Was I that bad?”

Marinette quirked her head to the side in thought. “No, not bad.  Just… like when you just kind of stared at me for a few minutes, without saying anything, which apparently was because you were impressed but I thought it was because you were a serial killer.”  Jason chuckled lightly and bobbed his head in apology.  “Or when you revealed your face, no mask.  Or, when you told me your full name and your brother’s first name, and that he was your brother.”  

Jason winced at that revelation.  That would explain the dagger he was almost too sluggish to dodge this morning.  And the glares and lecture on the importance of security and identities.  “Maybe not my finest moment,” he conceded as he rubbed the back of his neck.

Marinette giggled at that.  “Maybe not, but you were extremely drugged and extremely endearing.”  She looked down, a light blush settling on her cheeks.  “And very complimentary.”  

“Well, that’s good at least.  I don’t really remember anything I said.”  He rubbed the back of his neck and shuffled his feet, looking around the store instead of at her.  “So, did you want to talk about last night?” he offered a bit more casually than was natural.

Marinette could see the discomfort in his eyes even if they weren’t pointed at her.  She smiled kindly at him, hoping it would put him at ease.  “Why?  You worried that you said something embarrassing?” she teased lightly.  “You didn’t.”

“Not really,” he shrugged and looked back at her and relaxed into a charming smile.  “I don't embarrass that easily.  And if I said anything I should be embarrassed about, you wouldn't have given me your number.”

Marinette scoffed at him and leaned against the table they were next to.  “I gave you my number, so you’d stop giving me clues to your identity… and your brother’s.  Didn’t work. You were quite determined.”

“I must have thought you were worth it,” Jason smiled. “High me is a very astute me.”  Marinette blushed at the sincerity in his eyes. How was he still this charming even when he wasn’t blitzed out of his mind?  “But,” he continued with renewed vigor, “if I’d done anything too bad, you would have told me already, or kicked me out.”

Marinette laughed lightly.  “Well, you’re not wrong.”  She looked back up after a beat with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.  “So, the background check on me is complete then? You’re allowed to interact with me now.”

Jason rolled his eyes and leaned closer to her over the table.  “I mean, the blood sample results were good.  Your cholesterol is a little high, by the way,” he started thoughtfully.  “It was kind of you to donate though.  Very conscientious.  And you really should call your parents.  It’s been a few days.”  Marinette paled significantly as he continued to speak.  Jason grinned.  “And we have an appointment to talk to your first boyfriend.”

Marinette rolled her eyes and let out a relieved laugh. “You reached for the sun with that one and your wings melted.”  He looked at her questioningly.  “He would have told me if he had an interview with anyone.  We talk a lot.  Not to mention why do that when you could just interview him in person.  He’ll be in town for his tour next week anyway.”

“Wait… really?”

“You didn’t even know who it was?” Marinette laughed.

“I’m sure my family have been doing extensive research on you and they probably know, but I didn’t have anything to do with it. If there was anything bad, they would tell me, otherwise I want to find out from you,” he answered sincerely and taking her hand.  “The only thing I know about you is your name and that’s only because you put it in my phone. I had a vague recollection of what you looked like and being incredibly impressed with you, but that’s pretty much it. That’s one of the reasons I wanted to come down in person, to see if…” he searched for the best way to finish the thought.

Marinette nodded.  “To see if the chemistry was as good as you remember?  To see if it was still good when you weren’t drugged?” she offered nervously.

“Yeah,” Jason agreed.  “You too?”

Marinette took a breath and looked back up at him through her lashes, giving his hand a squeeze.  “Yeah.  I was nervous it was all because of the drugs.”

Jason gave her a relieved smile.  At least he wasn’t the only one nervous about it.  He wasn’t alone in this.  She was navigating it with him.  He squeezed her hand back.  “So,” he started, leaning back to give her a roguish grin, but keeping a grip on her hand, “who is the ex-boyfriend on tour?”

“Luka Couffaine.”

“Guitarist for Jagged Stone!” he exclaimed loudly, his eyes wide in surprise.

“Yeah.  I mean he wasn’t at the time.  But now, yes.”  Her eyes shone with mirth at his awed expression.  “Did you want to meet him?”

“What?  No! That’s… that would be weird, wanting to meet your girlfriend’s ex and his dad.  That’s just…”

“I didn’t mention his dad,” she cut him off knowingly.  “And… girlfriend?”  He gave her a sheepish look and looked down.  He opened his mouth to say something in response but she cut him off with laughter.  “So, that’s a yes then?”

“I mean… if you’re offering,” he tried to say casually.

“I see.  This whole thing was just an elaborate scam so you could meet Jagged Stone,” she pouted in mock offense.  She looked past him and smiled.

Jason rolled his eyes and he leaned onto the counter so he was just a few inches from her.  “You caught me.  I exposed my secret identity just so I could meet a rock star.”  Marinette’s eyes instantly widened and her body went rigid.

“Secret identity?” Adrien asked as he set down her coffee cup next to Marinette.

Jason froze.  “I… didn’t realize he was back.”

“You are shit at secret identities,” Marinette hissed to him.  “Even when you aren’t high you can’t keep one.”

“I…’m still under the effects?” he offered with a wince.  

“And you couldn’t have waited to come see me until it has dissipated?” she groaned.

“No, I couldn’t wait to see you,” he said instantly, looking deeply in her eyes.

“Oh… um… okay,” she stuttered.  Her cheeks flushed deeply.  “I… would have thought it would be gone by now,” she finished quietly.

“Nope.  Still lingering.”  He made a vague motion toward his body.

“Yeah, go with that when your brothers find out.” Marinette sighed.  “Why do they let you go undercover if you’re so bad at hiding your identity?” she asked a bit louder.

Jason’s eyes scrunched in confusion.

“Isn’t that like first day at the academy?” She continued.  She made a subtle rolling motion with her hands so only he could see it.

His eyes widened in realization.  “I think I missed that day.  Police training is pretty boring… and corrupt.”

Adrien scoffed and threw his arm over her shoulder. “Bullshit.  You just don’t want to lose the bet.  Also, backdoor, no bell.”

“Fucking backdoor,” Jason grumbled looking down and shaking his head.  He looked back up at Marinette with a raised eyebrow that she didn’t see because she was glaring at Adrien.  “Bet?”

“There is no bet,” Marinette rushed to assure him.

“That she’d date another hero,” Adrien explained, pointedly ignoring her glare.  “I’m Adrien by the way.  I’m her…” he stopped to think about his next words.  “We really need to come up with a term for it.  I’m her in no way sexual or romantic life partner?”

Marinette rolled her eyes.  “I thought we agreed on pseudo brother.”

“Right, right,” Adrien nodded.  “That puts me above Alya, so I like it.  But I still like mine better.”

“If I can interrupt,” Jason cut in, “Jason, nice to meet you.  And, another?”

“Also, he’s not a hero!” Marinette objected at the same time.

“How many heroes have you dated?  And she’s not wrong, I’m not a hero,” Jason added.

“Ooh, vigilante then.” Adrien nodded.  He started mentally running through all the vigilantes in Gotham.  “I think that counts, but you can always try that.”

“Let’s get back to the dating heroes thing,” Jason tried.

“But it won’t matter anyway, because nobody is going to find out about this,” her voice lowered and became very pointed.  “Right, Adrien?  Because we’re talking about someone else’s identity.  And it doesn’t matter because he isn’t a hero and the terms of the bet, which I didn’t agree to, I might add, were very specific: hero.”

“So how many heroes do you have to date for it to become a bet?” Jason asked.

“It’s more about how many heroes have had a crush on her,” Adrien answered with a smirk.  

Jason raised an eyebrow.  “How many have developed a crush on her?”

“Every hero that’s met her,” Adrien answered with a resolute nod.

“That’s not true!” Marinette exclaimed.

Jason nodded his head as he thought about that. “How many heroes is that? Approximately?” he asked Adrien, ignoring Marinette’s interruption.

“She’s met at least twenty-five.”  Marinette groaned at the glee in Adrien’s voice.

Jason’s eyes widened and turned to her. “Twenty-five?”  He turned back to Adrien.  “And they all liked her?”  

Adrien nodded with a smug smile.  “All of them.”

“No, they don’t,” Marinette insisted.

He blinked a few times.  “My brother met her.”

Marinette stared at him slack jawed until she collapsed her head onto the table.  “You SUCK at secret identities,” she mumbled into the table.  “Okay,” she announced loud enough to stop Jason and Adrien from continuing to talk.  “First,” she turned to Adrien, “that is categorically untrue.”

“You haven’t met twenty-five heroes?” Jason asked.

“Oh no, that’s a low estimate on how many I’ve met. But only like,” she narrowed her eyes and quirked her lips in thought, “three have liked me.”  

Adrien snickered.  “That’s not even close.  There was…”

“Second,” she said cutting him off, “your brother isn’t a hero,” she said pointedly.  “Third, he was a dick.”

“Literally,” Jason snickered.

Marinette smacked his shoulder and looked over at Adrien. “He was overly friendly, but not in a Rose way; in a smarmy, I’m going to manipulate you with my charm way.”

“That’s your opinion of him,” Jason pointed out. “Adrien said heroes get a crush on you so it sounds like I need to watch him around you.”

“Fourth,” she leaned closer to Jason with a hiss, “maybe you just shouldn’t talk.”

“I think we need to up the count too,” Adrien eyed Jason critically.  “Seems like we need to add a few new heroes to the total.”

Marinette stepped in between the two.  “And you won’t try to figure out any more about his identity, because that would be a violation, right Adrien?” she continued even sharper.

Adrien rolled his eyes but nodded.  “Yeah, yeah.  Whatever.  I’ll try but there’s only so many people in the hero adjacent community that fit his dimensions.”  

Marinette slapped him upside the head and he scowled back at her.  “Stop thinking,” she hissed.  “You’re a model it shouldn’t be that hard for you to do.”  Her smirk widened at his exaggerated offended gasp.

Adrien leaned back stared at her eyes slightly narrowed.  “Ex-model, thank you very much.  Which means I've been given a permit to think again.  And just for that, I'm going to.  Day and night.  I'm going to get out charts and diagrams, create association maps, cyberstalk people, all just because I can.”

Marinette groaned and dropped her head in her hands.  “I hate you. You can’t punish him as payback toward me.”

“You’re right,” Adrien nodded thoughtfully.  “I should make it up to Jason.  Say Jason, how many stories has she told you about our teenage years?  Has she told you about the first time we saw a movie together?  How about the first time we were at a sleepover together?”

Marinette’s eyes widened.   “Alright!” Marinette exclaimed loudly.  “I believe it’s time to get you out of here… before… uh… you say anything else embarrassing, Jason,” she insisted.  “Let’s go. Now.”  She pulled Jason out of the room by the elbow.  “You get to lock up Adrien.”

“Your coffee!” he called after her.  But she and Jason were already gone.  Adrien chuckled.  “Like I need to think to know who that is,” he scoffed taking a sip of his coffee and return to grading homework.

Jason waited a block before he spoke up.  “So… you want to tell me about the sleepover or do you want to let blondie tell me later?”

Marinette mock glared at him.  “Look, if we’re going to go over all of my embarrassing moments, we’ll never talk about anything else… ever… There’s a lot,” she stressed.

Jason chuckled and pulled her to a stop.  He picked up her hand and laced their fingers together.  He gently tucked some loose hair behind her ear, letting his fingers linger along her jaw. “Is this okay?”

Marinette looked up at him wide eyed, but nodded, a deep blush gracing her cheeks again.  “Ye... um, yeah.  That’s… um, yeah, that’s okay.”

“So… history of dating heroes, huh?  Guess you weren’t that impressed with my skills last night then.”

Marinette groaned playfully.  “Okay, seriously, it was only the one and yes, you were very impressive.  The way you… were able to stand for a prolonged period of time after the amount of drugs that got pumped into your system… very impressive.”

Jason barked out a laugh.  “Why thank you.  I have lots of other impressive qualities I can astound you with.  How would you feel about a date so I can show them to you?”

“Yeah, I like the sound of that,” she grinned up at him swinging their arms between them.

“You know, I might not remember anything else about last night, but there was one thing I thought I remembered and I was definitely right about,” he took a step closer to her until their chests were almost touching and leaned down to gaze adoringly into her eyes, “you’re fucking hot.”

She let out a surprised snort, her face turning bright red and Jason smirked at her.  She buried her face in his chest to hide her blush.  Jason chuckled as he wound his arms around her waist and hugged her close. “Come on,” he whispered into her ear.  “I know a good place to get food right around the corner.”  She looked up at him and nodded, letting him pull her toward the restaurant.

Continued in Night of the Consequences

Tags:

@jasonette-july-event @maribatserver @ashbrea381writings

#maribat #jasonette #Jasonette July #Jasonette July 2021 #prompt - dare #it's there I swear #Truth and Consequences

[hollandsmushroom]

For the sleepover!!

Mob!Tom's teenager daughter asking for her older brother (23-ish or smth like that) to prank tom and post it on tiktokkkk

God, I don't know what came over me but I am kind of proud of myself for coming up with this!

Join my sleepover

You had always tried to foster your children's creative spirits, especially since they grew up in such a difficult family. You had never expected to raise children with a mob boss but here you were with 2 grown children in a massive house. At this point they were way too old to need you for entertainment but not old enough to stop using you for entertainment.

Your daughter walked into the kitchen, laughing giddily at her pophone, catching her older brother's attention, drawing him from where he was looking at the swirling coffee in his mug. He raised his eyes to find her standing next to him, her phone screen turned towards him.

“You should do this to mom and dad” she chuckled tapping the screen and letting the video play. It was a kid and their dad chatting and the kid randomly asks when their dad was taking mom out, continuing with saying that they overheard mom talking about a date on the phone the other day. The tik tok ended with the dad sprinting out of the room, running while shouting something about getting flowers. The caption reading ‘He thought he forgot’ Your son couldn’t help but laugh at the idea, trying to think about what his father’s reaction would be, would he think you were cheating or would he assume that he had thoroughly fucked up, he would soon find out.

“Oh I am so gonna do that” he groaned through his laughter, his sister joining in on the jovial noise as well. Now was just the waiting game for the perfect time to give his father a heart attack. The opportunity came sooner than expected as he had not moved from his spot when his dad walked in. Tom wasn’t fully focused on what he was doing, his attention being focused on the phone in front of him, trying to remedy a shipment that had gone wrong down at the docks. So captured by the mess that was on his phone he didn’t notice his son propping up his phone and pressing record.

“So when are you taking mom on that date?” he asked deviously, trying to play coy, his words catching Tom’s attention, ripping his gaze from his screen and staring at his son incredulously.

“Date?” his voice was laced with confusion and loss at his sons words. “What date?” the boy tried desperately to bite back a smile.

“Oh, I heard mom talking about having a date tonight the other day on the phone” he explained, trying to play it off, trying not to break as Tom’s face contorted into one of anger and confusion. “I just assumed that it was you who was taking her-” before he could finish his sentence Tom was out of the kitchen and sprinting upstairs, calling out your name as he did, your son following behind, still filming.

“Y/N! I AM SO SORRY! ALSO WHO THE FUCK IS IT?” He screamed, running through the doorway to your bedroom and finding you folding laundry, his shouts pulling you from where you had sat to stand in front of him.

“I didn’t know we had something tonight, like i believe we didn’t so either I am a dumbass or you have another date, in that case who the fuck is it.” his voice dipping into a growl as he uttered the last words.

“Calm your tits, Holland” you chuckled at him, not understanding your husband's crazed state as he vomited a mixture of apologies and accusations your way, his chest rising and falling in anxiety and the strain that running up the stairs at such a rate had put him through.

“How are you so calm?” he spat, he looked angry, why was he angry, you didn’t know what he was on about, you were cheating but he was sorry? “Either you’re cheating on me or I forgot our date but you would be mad if I did that unless you for-”

“Tom!” you yelled, cutting him off and grabbing him by the shoulders. “I genuinely don’t know what you are talking about” you laugh, cupping his cheek but he pulled away before you could stroke his cheek with your thumb.

“But he said…” Tom was confused, the anger and panic he was experiencing fading into utter lostness, looking over his shoulder to see his son keeled over with laughter and holding his phone.

“I think you were played, my love” you laugh, turning his cheek towards you again and kissing him softly. “What did he tell you?” you inquired when you pulled away but before your husband could answer

“I told him I overheard you talking about a date you had and I knew he would either panic or assume that you were cheating but I thought he would choose one” your son wheezed out through his hysterical laughter, Tom hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

“I can’t believe I am handing a whole crime syndicate down to you” he groaned into your skin, feeling slightly irritated but mostly he was relieved that you were still his forever and always, and that you weren’t gaming for his head on a stick at his forgetfulness.

Join my sleepover

@marvelhasmyheart235 @iluvdeja @capital-koreasofia @hollandsour @quaksonhehe @thollandneedy @parkerpeter24 @prancerrparkerr @lovehollandy12

#tom holland reader #tom holland request #tom holland blurb #tom holland oneshot #tom holland au #tom holland one shot #tom holland fluff #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland #mob!tom smut #mobster tom holland #mob!tom #mob!tom holland x reader #mob!tom holland

[youbloodymadgenius]

Ivarello (Modern!Ivar x reader) Chapter 3

Moodboard by @quantumlocked310

Ivarello's masterpost here

A/N: This is my entry for @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie 500 Followers Fairy Tale Challenge. It's a retelling of Cinderella. Congrats again, darling 💖

A huge thank you to @mrsalwayswrite , who's a great beta reader and an even greater cheerleader 😂

A massive thank you to @quantumlocked310 , @vikingstrash and @serasvictoria . Thank you for agreeing to collaborate and for sharing your talent with me. Your moodboards are beyond amazing 🤩

In this story, Sigurd is alive. Ragnar and Aslaug are dead, but Lagertha didn't kill her. I took a lot of liberties with the show, I hope you won't mind.

Unlike the tale, there will be no magic involved. Not everything will be realistic, however. It's a fayritale, after all!

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Summary: Orphaned five years ago, Ivar and his brothers have been living with Lagertha ever since. Now 16 years old, he wants to attend Harald's traditional Midsummer party, but obstacles stand in his way.

Warnings: description of car crash; orphaned kids; Sigurd being Sigurd; OOC characters.

Words: 3497 (oops 🙈)

Additional note: what you’re going to read is not realistic.

Enjoy 🙂

🛡⚔️🛡

With his stomach in knots and a frown on his face, Ivar watches closely his godfather, who enters the living-room, wheeling a large trolley case behind him.

"Hello, Ivar." Floki looks around, an eyebrow raised questioningly, "Lagertha isn't here?", before flopping down on the corner sofa.

"No," Ivar shakes his head, wheeling up next to him, "She's out on a date with this English guy... Hammond, Halmund or whatever his name is."

Scratching his ear, Floki tilts his head, "but she knows you're going, right?" He pulls the trolley case closer and then snorts, mumbling under his breath, "don't think I can't see you rolling your eyes!"

"What do you think? Of course, she knows. She said, and I quote," Ivar raises his hands to make air quotes, his voice tinged with obvious annoyance, "'Of course you can go, sweetie, you know I don't want to be the one holding you back. Call me if anything goes wrong. And don't forget to take your meds.'"

"She cares, Ivar." Floki's tone is soft as he places a hand on his godson's shoulder.

Ivar lowers his gaze. "You should have taken me in." His words are barely audible and suddenly he feels like he's eleven again and he has to swallow against the sudden dryness in his throat.

"You do know that back then I wasn't in a good place." Floki's sad sigh almost gets Ivar in tears as memories of his parents and Helga flood his mind. The pain in his heart becomes nearly unbearable but he fights it off with all his might. He never wants to feel broken and lost again.

Ivar lifts his head up and Floki can see the stubbornness in his eyes. "I could live with you now."

"No, you could not, and you know it!" Floki smiles and taps Ivar on the cheek. "Ivar, I live between two flights, today in Norway, yesterday in Iceland and after-tomorrow in Canada. What kind of life would this be for you, huh? And besides, living with Lagertha is not that bad."

But living with Sigurd is! Ivar wants to shout. He keeps quiet, though, shrugging before eventually mumbling. "Guess not..."

"So," Floki starts, eager to change the subject, "where are your brothers, by the way?"

"Where do you think they are, huh, you knock-kneed fool? They're already there." Ivar glances at his watch, furrowing his brow. "Harald's party started twenty minutes ago."

"We better hurry up, then!" Crouching down, Floki slowly opens the suitcase under Ivar's scrutinizing gaze.

"Quick!" Ivar commands, barely able to contain his impatience, his nervous fingers tapping his push rims. "What do you have for me, old man, huh?" He even contemplates climbing out of his chair to open it himself, but the fear of breaking a bone at the worst possible time is stronger than his eagerness.

"You're going to calm down, young Padawan." Floki quips, slowly moving his hand in front of Ivar with eyes full of mischief. Ivar immediately slaps his godfather's hand away, mumbling under his breath, "I'd rather be a Sith Lord." That earns him a loud, hysterical laugh from his godfather.

Ivar grunts, ready to protest, but all thoughts leave his mind as soon as he's able to see what is in the trolley case. The scowl on his face obvious, he doesn't even try to hide his disappointment as he utters, "you made me braces?"

He hates braces with a passion. Along with underarm crutches, he had some, as a child. They were bulky, stiff, painful and walking with them was tedious, agonizingly slow, and exhausting. Ragnar had been adamant that he wanted his youngest to walk, no matter the struggles, no matter the nearly unbearable pain. Ivar had settled his ass in a wheelchair the day of his father's funeral, getting rid of his braces shortly after, a decision he had never regretted. So no, such torture devices were not at all what he was hoping for.

"Have a little faith in me," Floki rolls his eyes. "These," he looks lovingly at the strange contraptions in his hands, "are not braces, Ivar. Have you and your crippled ass ever heard of exoskeleton?"

Ivar's eyes widen. "It's that thing used in rehab that allows paraplegics to walk, right?" As Floki nods, Ivar gives him a puzzled glance. "But, erm, you do know I don't have a spinal cord injury, don't you? Or are you suffering from memory loss? Maybe it's your age?"

Dismissing the remark with an exasperated wave of his hand, Floki hisses, "I'm well aware that you don't, godson dearest," before narrowing his eyes, his voice now serious, "you may have full sensation in both legs, yet they can't exactly support your weight and your lack of motor function can't be denied. Not really different from some paraplegic dudes, what do you think?"

Feeling a heavy lump in his throat, Ivar frowns, not pleased with the idea of him being like a paraplegic. Almost without thinking, he contracts his quads as best he can, as if he wants to make sure he's still able to do it.

Floki doesn't miss the barely-there movements in his thighs, though, and his voice softens. "Look Ivar, you're not a paraplegic, okay? But I used the exoskeleton technology. And since you're not paralyzed, I was able to make a smaller device that you can wear underneath your clothes, and you're going to walk. I mean, really walk, not just like those guys in rehab, between parallels bars and with a PT right behind them."

Ivar, his eyes bright, stares at his godfather, slack-jawed with amazement. "I'm..." He begins to sputter, voice filled with emotion, "I'm really going to walk?" Feeling like his heart is pounding out of his chest, he fails to contain his excitement, drumming the fingers of his right hand on his lap. He'd tap his feet if only he could.

"You are." Floki nods before taking out of the trolley case a pair of dress shoes. "I put dozens of sensors in the insole of these shoes, which will enable the exoskeleton to correct your stance practically every second. Therefore, you won't need crutches, although I would say it's safer for you to use this." Reaching down, he grabs a black derby-style cane, simple and sleek in design. "You know," he shrugs, "just for extra support. Better safe than sorry, hmh?"

Ivar, who doesn't even flinch when he sees the walking stick, just reaches out, his hand grazing the carbon fiber exoskeleton. "Is it really for me?" His eyes filled with wonder, his voice trembling, his lips stretch across his face as his godfather nods. "And you made this in what?... four, five days?"

Letting out his signature giggle, Floki waggles his fingers in front of his face. "Even I couldn't make this in such a short time. No, the truth is, I've been working on it for a while. Let's say your phone call just sped things up. Though I must say, this marvel of technology is not flawless... It has a really low battery life, like four hours of autonomy at best. If I had more time, I certainly could have done better, but for now, it is what it is and you'll have to make do with what you've got." Pursing his lips, he glances at his watch, "So, just so you know, if you put this on now, you'll have to come back around midnight if you don't want to have to crawl around. And if you hear a beep, you'd better hurry, okay?"

As Ivar just nods, his beaming smile never fading, Floki adds, tilting his head, "and now, go get ready, young Padawan, you have a party to attend!"

***

Sitting on a bench at the seaside, Ivar watches the party from afar, a feeling of uneasiness tightening his chest. It was a mistake. Attending to this party was a mistake. Despite the exoskeleton, despite the fact that he walks almost normally, it was a mistake. He shouldn't have come. He shouldn't be here. Anxiety surges like the swell of a wave, and he struggles to breathe. Sigurd was right: he doesn't belong here, doesn't belong to this life.

A part of him wants to leave. It would be better to run away, to go hide in his room. But he won't. He can't. Because just a moment ago he saw you. Because he's not ready to give up on you now that he is here, eventually close to you.

He recognized you the moment his eyes fell on you. Looking radiant in a polka dot dress, you're as pretty as he remembers. Pretty? Who's he kidding? The girl you were six years ago was pretty. You're a woman now, and one of the most beautiful he's ever seen.

Glowing, smiling at everyone, you didn't even see him. In his head, of course, he makes plans to approach you, even if deep down, he knows all too well he'll never muster enough courage to talk to you. You probably wouldn't want him to anyway. After all, he may be standing tall today, yet he's still a freak, a fucking cripple. He's still cursed with his bony, twisted, useless legs. He's still a burden.

Yet, there's this little voice inside of him, barely audible, whispering that you're not like this, that you never were in the first place; and that's partly why the ten-year-old boy he was when he first met you felt drawn to you almost instantly.

Closing his eyes, he focuses on his breathing and decides to take a little trip down memory lane, bringing him back to that sunny, summer day of his first – and only – encounter with you. His memory so vivid it's like it happened only yesterday.

He can't hear the chirping of birds as his brothers are loudly playing and bickering in the pool. His beloved mother is nowhere to be seen and he's willing to bet she's taking a nap, but not without first making sure he has everything he could possibly need. Lying on a sunbed in the shade of an oak, a glass of lemonade within reach and a thick book on his lap, he hardly notices his father coming into the backyard, Harald Hårfager following close behind.

Since Ivar knows Harald is here to talk business with his father, he pays no attention to the two men, who take their seats at the patio dining table.

He nearly falls off the sunbed when a tiny voice startles him. "Hello!"

Stunned, he turns his head towards the voice and comes face to face with a smiling girl he doesn't know. You. He'd say you're about his age.

"I'm Y/N," you tell him, waving your hand shyly. "I'm at my uncle's for the weekend," you keep going, pointing your finger at Harald, "and I was wondering... May I join you?" You finally ask, dragging a second sunbed closer to his.

His first instinct is to look around, because you can't possibly be talking to him. Why would you? Surely you can't have failed to spot his leg braces, nor his hideous orthopedic shoes. You can't have missed that he's a cripple.

Frowning as he sees that no one is around, he snorts, his nostrils flaring. He can tell you're wearing a swimsuit under your pink dress. What do you want, then? Are you here to mock and ridicule him or what?

"You better get in the pool with my brothers." He knows he sounds rude, not answering nor greeting you, but he doesn't care. He doesn't want to be made fun of and doesn't intend to give you the chance to do it.

Seemingly undeterred, you speak with a soft voice. "No, I'd rather not." Your smile is so genuine he can't help but think you mean no harm. "Actually," you shrug, sitting next to him, "I'd rather stay here with you, if you don't mind. What are you reading?"

Gobsmacked, he just looks at you – and gods, how pretty you are! – for a long time, unable to utter a single word. Are you truly interested in what he's reading? Interested in him? He swallows hard, his heart racing. A small smile dancing on your lips, your kind eyes never leave his as you wait, full of hope, for him to finally talk to you.

And that's what he ends up doing, almost in spite of himself. For the next two hours, he shows you his astronomy book, a gift from his godfather for his tenth birthday, and tells you about the stars, the constellations and the nights he spends watching the sky, when his mother allows him to. And for two hours you listen to him, asking a question here or there and always smiling. He's pretty sure you're not faking being interested in what he's saying.

All too soon, your uncle tells you it's time to go and you stand up with a scowl, letting out a sigh of regret. The next moment, you flash Ivar a grin. "I had a really great time with you, thanks! I'm going back to my mom's tomorrow but I hope we can spend time together again sometime, maybe next summer. I'd love to stargaze with you, you know?" With that, you lean forward and as your lips touch his cheek, Ivar's breath catches in his throat, his heart pounding like a drum in his chest.

Ivar inhales deeply. That kiss... That's when he fell madly and hopelessly in love with you. If he concentrates enough, he can still feel the softness of your lips against his skin, still smell your sweet, flowery scent.

That day, he had watched you leave with a smile on your face, already dreaming of the day he would see you again. You had said "next summer" and even though it was a long time away, he was willing to wait. In the meantime, he would have plenty of memories to recall - your joyful voice, your sparkling eyes, your lovely smile... Sure, he could wait.

And he had waited, hopeful and happier than he had been in a long time.

Not long after, however, his life had been turned upside down, his father being murdered and his mother dying in a car crash. Lost, angry, broken, and infinitely sad, he had gone through the following months as if anesthetized - barely living, hardly functioning, sometimes feeling as if the memory of you was the only thing keeping him from drowning.

Yet, and he doesn't know why – or perhaps simply because Ragnar being dead, Harald had no reason to visit anymore – he had never seen you again.

"Hello!"

His whole body freezes and he stops breathing. This voice... Your voice... He'd know it anywhere. Yet, it can't be, right? Did he fall asleep? Is he dreaming? Is one of his brothers tricking him? Why would you talk to the cripple?

"My name is Y/N." He can hear the smile in your voice. "I was wondering... May I join you?"

Summoning the courage he's not sure he has, Ivar looks tentatively toward you.

Gods! You're even more beautiful up close. Fuck. Now that you're here, right next to him, he doesn't know what to say, what to do. Panic seizes his hammering heart as a lump rises in his throat. He attempts to swallow around it to speak, to say something, anything, but the words won't come out and he finally just nods, his hand gesturing to the bench for you to sit on.

"Thanks," you give him a broad smile before taking your seat.

Ivar cannot believe his eyes. What are you doing? Did you recognize him? Why are you here, with him?

"Woul–", he sputters, struggling to find his voice, "Wouldn't you rather be there?" Pointing his index finger at the crowd gathered in front of the makeshift stage just a few meters away. He frowns, tilting his head, "the party is in full swing."

"No, I'd rather not." You shrug and as you turn your head toward him, he breathes in your sweet scent, suddenly feeling dizzy. "The guys are already drunk and really have one thing on their minds. And those who are not are boring." You lower your gaze, as if embarrassed, and it's so adorable Ivar feels like his heart is melting. "I'd rather stay here with you, if you don't mind."

Oh, he doesn't. He doesn't mind at all. The truth is, there's a fucking firework inside of him, and he barely contains the screams of happiness that threaten to escape his lips. "That's okay, you can stay," he says instead, his fidgeting fingers dancing on his lap.

Over the next hour or so, the conversation flows easily as you speak about Karasjok, the small town where you live, telling him about your mother's people, the Sami, their culture and customs.

Ivar shares with you bits and pieces of his life too, speaking about his passion for the Viking culture and about his belief in the ancient gods. The night, his night, is full of your laughs, full of your smiles, full of you. He wants it to never end.

He's still trying to figure out if you know who he is, if you remember meeting him once when you rise to your feet, almost bouncing with enthusiasm. "Walk with me, will you?"

He's about to break the truth about his inability to walk when he remembers that actually, thanks to Floki, he can. His eyes never leave yours as he grabs his cane with a little bit of self-consciousness, wincing as he stands up, but he can't see disgust, contempt, or disappointment on your face and your smile doesn't falter as you delicately slip your hand under his free arm, curling your fingers back over it. Shaken by your sudden proximity, Ivar feels goosebumps rising on his skin.

"It's such a lovely night and I'm so happy spending it with you."

Your words leave him speechless as you lead him close to the water. A bunch of guys can be seen in the distance and Ivar is pretty sure his brothers are among them. He can feel their heavy stares on him and doesn't need to hear them to know what they're saying. "Who's this dude? Do we know him?" Standing tall, with his braided hair and a blue suit, he knows he doesn't look like himself. Yet, as he locks eyes with Hvitserk for a second, he'd sworn he sees a hint of recognition crossing his brother's face. And as the latter gives him a thumbs up, he knows his mind is not playing tricks with him.

"Oh, I love this song!" You clap your hands twice before shrugging shyly. "Let's dance, please!"

Ivar's heart breaks. Scared out of his wits, he swallows hard, his breathing uneven. "I... I can't." It's a painful admission, and he wishes the ground would just swallow him up.

He realizes you pay no mind to his defeated tone, though, as you grab his cane, leaning it against a nearby tree. "We'll go slow, I promise."

Almost in spite of himself, he places his hands on your hips as you wrap your arms around his neck. Gently – cautiously – swaying to the music, Ivar leans in close and, inhaling deeply your delightful scent, he feels like he's going to spontaneously combust. Your head resting on his chest, he's sure you can hear his frantic, pounding heartbeat. But he can't bring himself to care, not when you're finally exactly where he wants you to be. In his arms.

That's why he doesn't hear the first beep, or if he does, he doesn't pay any attention, entranced by your beauty, your kindness and the mesmerizing color of your eyes.

But when you stop dancing, your eyebrows raised, "What's that beeping noise? It doesn't stop," he hears it too, cold sweats washing over him as panic courses through his body.

"I... I must... I must go," he stammers, and honestly he's about to throw up. He can't think, can't speak. All he knows is that he doesn't want you seeing him crawling around. He won't allow it. He can't.

Fuck.

That's why he leaves. He just strolls off. He doesn't see the appalled look you're giving him, doesn’t' realize he's leaving his black cane behind, doesn't hear the despair in your tone as you shout, "wait, please! I don't even know your name!"

He has only taken a few steps when crocodile tears run down his cheeks, blurring his sight. It hurts so much he could scream, and he can barely breathe as the realization starts to sink in. Who was he trying to fool? Sigurd had been right all along. No matter the exoskeleton, no matter the genius of his godfather, he's still a freak. A monster. An abnormality.

He doesn't belong. He's not worthy.

Fuck.

His heart shatters in a thousand pieces.

Fuck.

Y/N.

Fuck.

🛡⚔️🛡

Ivar's taglist: @waiting4inspiration @honestsycrets @lisinfleur @saldelys @gearhead66 @inforapound @readsalot73 @milkkygirls @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @zuxiezendler @hecohansen31 @lonewolf471 @fuckindiva @tgrrose @didiintheblog @peachyboneless @pieces-by-me @funmadnessandbadassvikings @ethereallysimple @destynelseclipsa @cocovikings23 @xceafh @mrsalwayswrite @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @pomegranates-and-blood @jadelynlace @grimeundglow @quantumlocked310 @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom @adrille88

Ivarello's taglist: @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog @hashimily @prepare4trouble @supernaturalvikingwhore @funmadnessandbadassvikings @heavenly1927 @dini73

#ivar #modern ivar #modern!ivar #modern-ivar #modern ivar x reader #modern!ivar x reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ivar imagine #ivar fic #ivar fanfic #ivar fanfiction #ivar vikings #vikings ivar #cherrypie’s500 #fairytale retelling #ivarello

[lord-explosion-baku]

Trident Tale part 2

Mermaid!Shinsou x reader x Kirishima x reader

Warnings: adult themes (minors DNI)

Author’s note: sorry to those of you who have asked me to put on the tag list! I don’t do tag lists! But if you don’t want to lose this story, you can always bookmark it on AO3.

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

Original image by @maewoahoah

Moving to an island where everyone is big on the surf scene and other oceanic happenings might not have been the brightest idea for someone so afraid of anything that has to do with water, but you make do by spending your days looking after the Bed & Breakfast, trying not to burn the house down when you fry a few eggs, and obsessively scrolling through Eijirou Kirishima’s social media page. He’ll never notice you, and you think you’re fine with that, until a mysterious force washes into Ms. Shuzenji’s pool after a particularly nasty storm.

Hitoshi Shinsou is a pain in the ass from the get-go, but you put up with him, fins and all, when he promises he can help unite you with your soulmate. The catch? The fish is hellbent on taking back what was stolen from him, and he won’t lift a gracious finger until he gets what he came for.

You’re helpless to lend him a hand, so long as you stay dry. Unless, of course, he has other plans.

You know how the saying goes: you rub his fins, he’ll rub yours.

The thing about being hungry is that you can sometimes convince yourself that you’re full. You can sip water, swallow your breath, pop a few mints in—hell, you could even pretend to eat. However, even if you might trick your brain, your stomach will still be empty.

By the time you finally get some real goddamn food in your stomach, it will be aching from being teased.

It feels like this is exactly what Hitoshi Shinsou has done to you. Teased you. He’d mentioned being one of Ryūjin, which you can only assume is something religious or magic. You know he’s a fish, and that he makes people’s skin glow when he touches them, and apparently his lips or his saliva can heal wounds. But he’s not yet given you any real goddamn food.

The jerk has been swimming circles around the pool, commenting on how disgusting it is being stuck with all the trash, and complaining about your poor hospitality, but has not yet told you what the hell he’s doing here.

It’s not like you ever asked for some creature to crash into Ms. Shuzenji’s pool. Maybe some people would be ecstatic over finding an actual merperson, but life isn’t all about singing songs and talking to seagulls. He’s definitely not an Ariel, unless he is in fact looking for a prince. With all his sass, you think he’s much more of an Ursula than a Disney princess. If he is a sea-witch, he refuses to tell you.

It won’t matter much by the time Denki gets here anyways. You had been honest when you said you wouldn’t put it against him to call some news station when he sees Hitoshi. You figure that after some science lab’s helicopters carried your intruder away to run tests on him, the fish-man will be out of your hair and a thing of the past.

Despite the cynicism crawling through your head, the thought actually makes a guilty pit form in the bottom of your stomach. A life is a life, afterall.

“At least tell me why you tried to…to…” Your mouth flattens when you recall Hitoshi leaning into you, his lips a whisper away from yours.

“To?” Hitoshi asks while he observes the wayward bra that blew into the pool with notable repulsion.

“To kiss me!” You bark out, ears warm.

“Oh, that?” He purses his lips, spinning the bra around in the water. Then, he’s contemplative for a moment, as if he’s thinking of an excuse that won’t make you angry. Or will. He seems to get a kick out of frustrating you.

“I suppose I should’ve considered that it’s not a social norm for humans to greet other humans with their lips,” he says with a cocky, probably lying smirk. “My bad.”

“You expect me to believe that mermaids kiss each other to say hello?”

“Not a mermaid.” The fish is all teeth as he regards you. “I’m one of Ryūjin. And I’d like to think that you’d believe anything I tell you, since you seem to know nothing about my people.”

“Because you won’t tell me anything about your people,” you mutter right before the house bell rings. Your heart jumps with a spike of panic. You haven’t thought about what you’re going to say to Denki yet. You begin thinking about science labs again, and that knot in your stomach tightens.

“Okay,” you say in a warning tone, “I’m gonna let Denki in now…”

“Uh-huh.”

“He’s gonna see you…”

“That’s the plan.” Hitoshi lifts a brow. “You’re not worried for me, are you?”

“I just think you should be more worried about yourself,” you say. “Humans aren’t…” There’s a pensive pause when you try to search for the right word. “Humans aren’t good.”

“Would you say that you’re a good human?” He asks.

What a question. You’d like to believe that you are, but you can’t kid yourself. Never one to be very self-sacrificing, you utter your next words with confidence. “Nope.”

“And yet, you haven’t done anything malicious towards me. Nothing, besides that half-assed attempt to kick me away from you, anyways.”

Rolling your eyes to keep your couldn’t-care-less facade up, you left the smirking merman to wade around in the murky pool. There’s not another second to think about what you could possibly say to Denki about your surprise guest, because when you enter the house, you see his face peeking through the side window next to the front door. You could see a drink holder and a Tiki Burger bag in his hand. His smile is bright, while yours is grim.

He pouts, seeing through forced body language, and proceeds to make a funny face. You let out a half-sigh, half-laugh. You might not be a good person, but Denki is. He’s an idiot, but you don’t think he’d ever do anything to harm another creature, mythical or not. This could even be fun to him. Exciting. Something extraordinary happened, and you’d been too scared to react to it appropriately, but Denki would be different.

Your changing emotions grow palpable when you finally reach for the handle.

“Heard you had some thingies that needed twisting,” Denki says as you open the door. He’s wearing his company’s shirt, a brown thing with the PoolPros logo on it, though it’s cut raggedly short to show off his midriff. He’s been particularly confident ever since he’d gotten his navel pierced, and happily showed off the topaz stone that Kirishima had given him. It hangs right above his buckle. It forces onlookers to look at his abs…or maybe his groin. He says it’s lucky, and you haven’t argued with him about it. You would probably call something Kirishima gave you lucky too.

In a flash, you’re grabbing him by his shirt collar and guiding him in and against one of the hall mirrors.

“Something’s happened.” The words immediately spill out, even while you still do not know what you’re going to say. You hope that if the right things tumble out of your mouth, Denki will get the picture.

“Uh…” Denki’s cheeks are red hot, reacting to your close proximity. “Was it a spike in your libido?”

God.

“No, shut up!” You smack his chest and glance down the hall towards the back door. The pool isn’t in your line of vision, but just knowing what lurks there gets your blood pumping. “This is going to sound crazy, but I need you to keep an open mind.”

He bobs his brows. “For you? Always.”

After an exhale, you gather your composure, and tell Denki everything with as much eloquence as you can muster.

“There’s something living in the pool!” You bark out, erratic. “It’s big and it has zero impulse control and it’s rude! It talks! When it touches me, my skin glows. Then it tried to kiss me, Kaminari! And it’s rude!” You add that in again, because you cannot stress it enough. Hitoshi Shinsou is as unrefined as a piece of driftwood, and he had the audacity to make comments on behalf of your decorum. “It won’t tell me what it’s doing here, either. I offered to get it back into the ocean, but it said it wanted something else, but it won’t tell me what, and I don’t know what to do!”

Denki blinks rapidly, like his eyelashes are repelling every word you toss at him. There’s a beat, he swallows, then his lips tilt up into a knowing grin.

“Alright,” he says, “I see you.”

“You do?” Maybe you had to give Denki a little more credit. That hadn’t been your best description of a nightmare scenario.

“Sure do, little lady. This is some kinda belated birthday prank, huh? Thought you could slide one past me when I was least expecting it! I was thinking that maybe you just forgot about it, but now you’ve got something up your sleeve, don’t ya! Well cutie, I might be dumb, but I’m not stupid!”

Striding into the house, Denki places the shakes and burger bag onto Shuzenji’s kitchen counter. Shoulders deflating, you follow him while he fishes a few fries out of the bag. If he doesn’t get it now, he will soon enough.

“What could it be?” He ponders, tossing a fry into his mouth. He nods towards one of the cups and mumbles about a shake for you, then towards the back door. “Couldn’t be a party—it’s too early for a party. And you don’t talk to many people…”

Ignoring the slight burn, you front Denki, and extend your hand out to his. His eyes widen for a moment, he wipes his hand on his pants, and takes yours.

“I need your help, Denki. Seriously.”

“Yeah,” he says, a touch more reformative. “Okay.”  

What should’ve been some grand reveal, however, turned out to be anything but.

The pool being clean is the first thing you notice, as absurd as that is. It’s now half-filled, with only sprinkles of algae leftover by some miraculous clean-up. There’s no more silver fish swimming around, and all the trash that had previously taken sanctuary in the pool now lays on a mountainous pile with the bra sitting at its peak. Your guest is no longer in the pool—the very clean pool.

Denki chuckles and says, “well, this doesn’t look bad at all. By how hysterical you were on the phone, I was expecting something much worse. Oh! Hello!”

Your jaw drops as Denki waves at Hitoshi—a very comfortable-looking Hitoshi who lounges on one of the reclining pool chairs, head turned back like he’s sun bathing, one leg crossed over the goddamn other. Legs. Attached to feet—feet that definitely were not there when you’d met him.

Tricky, magic fish-man.

“Oh,” Hitoshi says, carefully considering Denki. “We have company?”

The ‘we’ in his statement doesn’t sit right with you anymore than his appearance does. He stands, and both you and Denki gasp when you see his new outfit in its entirety. It’s all royal blue, fine silks, and sheer fabric that only covers the places that would make Denki blush. Puffy, yet flowing sleeves connect to his now two golden cuffs. A heavy gold necklace hangs around him, and he’s got a light sash thrown around mostly his bare chest. A golden, v-shaped belt holds his deep blue harem pants up.

They are the gaudiest goddamn pajamas you’ve ever seen.

Hitoshi moves like water to face Denki, then firmly grasps him by the forearm, yanking the boy forward so that their lips are mere inches away from each other. Noting that there’s no glowing from their contact, you watch as Hitoshi’s indigo eyes slide from Denki’s lips, to you, and shows off a dubious glint.

“Whoops,” Hitoshi murmurs basically into Denki’s mouth. “I almost forgot that you don’t greet people like this here.” He takes a step away and smirks. “Forgive me. I’m Hitoshi Shinsou. You must be the pool guy.”

“Um, yeah. ‘M Denki Kaminari.” Denki laughs nervously. His cheeks burn red, and he keeps shifting his weight from one leg to the other. Grabbing onto your hand tightly, he starts back towards the house, towing you along, saying, “excuse us, we just have to—uh. Talk.”

In a tick, you’re whisked right back inside, in the land of private conversations.

“It didn’t look like that before, Denki. I swear to god.” You’re insisting as soon as the door is closed.

“It?!” Denki balks, his cheeks turning even more red. “Do you mean the pool or that hunk of a man hanging around your backyard?!”

“Both, I guess, but I wouldn’t call it a man! It had a giant purple tail before you showed up!!”

“That’s very rude, y’know.” Denki peers back at Hitoshi who’s lackadaisically cleaning his fingertips. “What are their pronouns?”

You imagine Hitoshi surrounded by others like him, all either screaming or clicking to communicate with each other in an inhuman language. “I don’t think pronouns matter wherever it’s from!”

“Hmm.” Denki slides the door open and pops his head out. “‘Scuse me, Hitoshi, what are your pronouns?”

Without missing a beat, Hitoshi answers him. “As in titles? You can call me Shinsou, but if you’re so inclined, I’ll allow you to call me lord.”

“Lord, of course.” More nervous laughter as Denki closes the door. “Lord. That’s a kink thing, right? It’s gotta be!”

“It’s not!” You bark, but Denki doesn’t hear you. Instead, he rushes towards one of the hall mirrors and begins fussing over his hair.

“I honestly can’t believe you did this. I mean, you, of all people. You’re braver than I gave you credit for. Coulda given me a heads up, though. I would’ve worn somethin’ nice. Or not come at all. I do feel like I’m intruding.” Denki’s eyes light up. “Unless this is for my birthday and you’re…you want me to join you?”

“You’ve lost me.” You're too busy trying to figure out what you can do to convince Denki that Hitoshi is a mermaid. You’ve considered pushing him back into the pool, but you don’t know if that would change him back to his sea-man state, or just make you look like a jackass.

“This is so weird. I haven’t seen that guy on the island before, and believe me, I know everybody. It must’ve cost a pretty penny to get him here. On top of everything else-“ He clears his throat- “how much is this costing you? Does Shuzenji know what you get up to while she’s away?”

It hits you like a freight train. “Oh, Kaminari…No…”

“The jig is up!” Denki stomps his foot defiantly and points towards the door. “You’re paying that man for sex!”

“God no!” The very idea that you’ve paid Hitoshi to be here, to touch you, flusters the hell out of you. If anything, you’d pay for him to leave. “You’d honestly think I’d hire a prostitute?!”

“Escort is the term they are using nowadays, and no, I wouldn’t think you’d hire an escort until now!” Denki scoffs, then moves his hand through his hair, exasperated. “The thing is, babe, you don’t need to. You’re cute and fun! If you got out every once in a while…”

“Fish!” You yell, cutting him off, because you’re not about to have another conversation about your hermit lifestyle. “He’s a fish, Denki! I didn’t fuck a fish! Nor am I planning to!”

Denki blinks at you. Not like before—not like he’s reflecting your words. This blink is more like a blink one would offer someone who’d been having an otherwise normal conversation, until they started talking about the earth being flat, or homosexuals burning in a lake of fire.

I’m not crazy, you think and will Denki to believe. I’ll prove it.

Before you can give Denki a play-by-play of what happened—properly this time, and not just your rambled recall—the door slides open, and Hitoshi steps in.

“May I enter?” The regal-looking man asks.

At the exact same moment you say, “no,” Denki says, “of course.”

“I was just hoping to find something to eat.” Hitoshi stops in the kitchen, arms crossed and expectant.

“You haven’t fed your hooker?” Denki whispers and it blows your mind that he can say hooker and you can’t say prostitute. “You can have half my burger!”

“Burger,” Hitoshi repeats the unfamiliar word, and looks around, probably wondering what it could be. Denki takes the hint and proceeds to fish his meal out of the bag. Overly familiar with Shuzenji’s kitchen, he finds a knife to cut the sandwich in two, then hands one half to Hitoshi.

Hitoshi frowns.

“I’m sorry, are you a vegetarian?” Denki asks, and you can tell he’s being overly hospitable in a house that is not his. When Hitoshi doesn’t answer him, but doesn’t stop frowning, Denki asks, “do you not eat meat?”

“This is meat?” Asks Hitoshi, shaking the burger in the air. Some mayonnaise-covered lettuce falls to the kitchen floor.

“I have to clean that!” You yip and wet a paper towel. When you’re on your knees, Hitoshi gives you a smirk of indifference.

“What, do you not have hamburgers where you’re from?” Denki asks, and when Hitoshi refuses to answer him again, he says, “the meat is the patty. It’s beef.”

“Beef.” Hitoshi begins dissecting the thing, throwing the bun halves, pickles, tomato, and lettuce all on the floor. You continue to curse at him while he sniffs at the patty. “What animal is this?”

“Beef is cow, dude.” Denki sounds more skeptical now, which you’d be grateful for if you weren’t already on your hands and knees, scrubbing ketchup out of the tile. “Man, throwing food on the floor is rude no matter where you’re from. Babe, you shouldn’t have to clean that up.”

“If I don’t, who will?” You ask, sardonic.

“There’s not really a floor where I’m from,” Hitoshi says once he swallows his first bite. He places the patty back onto the burger wrap, and steps away from his mess. “At least, there’s no floor when it’s meal time. We just let shells and bones float around until they go down to where they’ll eventually break down and decay.”

Denki asks, “where did you say you were from?”

“He’s a fish, Denki.”

“I didn’t.” Hitoshi gets down on his knees with a wetted paper towel of his own. He swipes at the places you’ve missed, then looks at you. “Tell me, would a not-good person clean up a mess that isn't their own?”

“It’s kind of my job,” you retort and stand so Hitoshi can finish cleaning. Instead, he stands with you.

“And what is his job?” Hitoshi nods towards Denki who looks more and more fretful by the second. “I assume he’s here to provide services. If you’re paying him, shouldn’t he be the one to clean for you? Prepare meals for you? Bend to your whims?”

Denki says, “I’ve got a couple jobs, but I’m not a housekeeper, no.”

“No?” Hitoshi gives out a terse laugh and hands the towel off to Denki. “Clean.”

Denki looks to you for an explanation. You’re about to chew Hitoshi out, when he again says, “clean,” but this time, there’s something attached to his voice. Something that is nothing, but also more. It sends goosebumps up your arms and compels Denki to fall to the floor and obey the command.

“Yes, my lord.” When Denki finishes cleaning and throws the rest of the mess in the bin, he looks at Hitoshi, eyes glossy, waiting.

“Fetch me some water,” says Hitoshi, and after another yes, my lord, Denki begins searching for a glass.

“Quit it!” You shout and very nearly grab on to Hitoshi’s arm, stopping only when you remember the glow and the prickles that accompany his touch. Decidedly, you hurry after Denki and grab the glass from his hands and snap your fingers in front of his face.

Denki blinks, and this time it’s not because he doesn’t hear you, and it’s not because you’re spouting crazy nonsense. He blinks, and it’s a revelation.

“Hypnosis!” Denki says the word like eureka! and you want to shake him, because he should be angrier than he seems.

“I’m surprised you understand or even remember that much,” Hitoshi drawls. “You’re more in-tune than you’d like people to believe.”

And I’m Mother Teresa, you think bitterly. The fish is contemptuous as hell, but he doesn’t read people well. To him, you’re good and apparently Denki’s a genius.

“How did you do that?” Denki asks with growing excitement. “When I was a kid, I was really into magic, but could never get any of the tricks right. You didn’t use any triggering noises or images or anything.”

“There is a bit of magic about you,” Hitoshi says like he’s thinking out loud. “Not enough to pull something like what I just did off unless you have the proper tide jewel. But you do have enough power to utilize a tide jewel.”

“Don’t do that again,” you warn, and pour water from the sink into the glass. There’s purified water in the fridge, but Hitoshi hasn’t earned it. “To Kaminari or to me. The difference between a house guest and a home-invader is who does and does not use hypnosis on other guests.”

“I wasn’t aware that hypnosis is a common occurrence in your residence.” Hitoshi reaches for the glass, but you hold it away from him. Casting out a withering look, he says, “I wouldn’t be able to hypnotize him again, even if I wanted to. Not for a while, anyways. Not without my tide jewel.”

“What’s a tide jewel?” Denki asks. “Is that, like, sea glass?”

Eyes flicking from the glass of water, to Denki, then to you, Hitoshi says, “he knows how to ask a question.”

The questions that you ask get ignored! But instead of saying that, you continue to withhold the water, and say, “then answer him.”

Mildly peeved, Hitoshi turns his attention back to Denki. “You say you have a couple of jobs. What would they be?”

“That’s not answering his question,” you mutter.

“I’ll decide whether I should answer him in a moment. Denki, if you will.”

“Oh, well…” The sheepish Denki brings his hand to the back of his neck, blushing slightly. “I’ve got the PoolPros gig, and sometimes I pick shifts up at The Salty Barrel. I sort of got an affinity for making drinks…and cooking…and fixing things, so they like to keep me around.”

Unamused, Hitoshi pries. “Anything else?”

“Sometimes I pick up odd jobs. Fishing and delivery. I guess I’m pretty dependable because of the boat.”

This catches Hitoshi’s attention. “You have a boat?”

“Sure, yeah. It’s nothin’ too special yet. I’ve been working on it, and it’s coming along, but it’s not ready for what it’s truly intended for.”

“Which would be?”

Denki looks at you and winks, making your ears warm. You know exactly why he got the boat.

“Romantic rendezvous.”

“I see,” Hitoshi says pensively. Then, his eyes go sharp when he notices you fiddling with the ties on your shorts. “Are you two mates?”

Denki lifts a conspiratorial brow towards you, before throwing his arm around your shoulders, pulling you against his body. “Sure, yeah—we’re mates!”

You push away from him, and bite, “not those kinds of mates.”

Although nobody disagrees with you, you sense Denki sulking.

“Ah,” Shinsou muses. “You haven’t yet fought for her hand?”

Before you can groan at the idea, Denki laughs quietly, but his laughter quickly grows uproariously as he considers the idea. Soon, he’s gripping his stomach to stop himself from doubling over. You glare at his feet.

“As if there’s another guy to fight for her,” Denki bellows, wiping a tear away from his eye. “Maybe if she ever went out, but for now, the only person I gotta fight for her hand, is her!”

“Oh, I understand,” Shinsou says, eyes on you. “A battle to assert domination.”

Denki hoots loudly at the idea. “Looks like I’m screwed!”

To your growing agitation and embarrassment, Denki continues to laugh. It’s as if you’re not constantly shooting him down. You’re not pitiful. Not helpless. And you think you’d have some game if you put your heart into it. You just have a type, and the pool guy just doesn’t fit the bill, whether he’s handy or not.

There’s no humor to be found in Hitoshi’s eyes, though. He’s glaring at you, like before, only now he’s looking at you more like you’re a piece of meat—like he’s some kind of predator and you’re his newfound prey. You inadvertently step closer to Denki, as if he could be used as some sort of defense shield, then elbow him in the ribs, pretending that you’re not at all intimidated by this fish-turned-man.

“Nobody’s fighting anybody,” you say, keeping eye-contact with Hitoshi. You’ve been told before that the fact that you’re never the first to look away is a little off-putting. Hoping to have the same uncomfortable effect on your guest, you don’t even blink when you say, “I just have my eyes on someone special.”

At the same time Denki stops his laughing, Hitoshi narrows his eyes—not out of malice, but what seems to be curiosity. That’s as far as you’ll go with revealing any more personal information. You might not be physically spoken for, yet, but at least you’re emotionally unavailable. You vaguely wonder if those kinds of ideals are acknowledged by sea people.

“Yeah, Kiri,” Denki says with a roll of his eyes. So much for keeping things personal. “He’s not interested in dating anyone, though. In fact, he’s pretty much married to the ocean.”

“At least there aren’t other girls,” you say, and with a quick glance at Denki, you add, “or boys.”

Denki exaggerates a woeful, hand-over-forehead pose and cries, “at least we have each other!” Then, he places his hand back around your shoulders. Again, you scoot away from him, and this time, you catch Hitoshi’s lips quirk up, just a bit.

“Alright,” Hitoshi says. “I’ve decided.”

“Decided what?” You ask.

“That the two of you are going to help me.”

The fish-man moves to flatten the burger wrap down on the counter like a map, and proceeds to decimate the other half of Denki’s burger. Denki says, “oh that’s fine…I wasn’t that hungry anyways.”

“Help you with what!” You bark, practically starving for details. Despite Hitoshi and all that he’s done, your interest is piqued, and you feel as though you’re finally going to get to the meat of his situation.

Lining a few fries on the paper wrap, Hitoshi finally says, “a few of my worldly possessions have been stolen from me. They’ve been missing for quite a long time now, and I now plan to take them back. Four of the six items happen to be tide jewels. I figure those will be the easiest to locate and extract.”

Denki snaps his finger. “Tide jewels! That’s what we were talking about! What are those?

Dabbing his pinky into some mustard, Hitoshi says, “artistry…” He dips his ring finger into the ketchup and says, “reign…” he tears a piece of lettuce in half and says, “tide…” and finally, he rips some of the patty and says, “soul.”

“Artistry, reign, tide, soul,” Denki repeats, peeking over Hitoshi’s shoulder. “You don’t happen to be a musician, do you? A magician musician!”

“I’m a connoisseur, but not a practitioner.” Hitoshi breathes. “And you’re too close to me.”

“Well, you’re certainly not an artist,” Denki huffs, taking a few steps back. You move in to see what Denki saw.

On the wrap, the French fries have been warped to look like some sort of three-pronged fork. On the left prong, there’s a dab of ketchup, in the center, mustard, and the right has a piece of lettuce sitting on it. Connecting the three prongs is the bit of hamburger meat Hitoshi had ripped.

“Is this supposed to be a fork or a trident?” You ask, then kick yourself, because it’s obviously a trident. Duh. Mermaids. “Is that one of the things that have been stolen? A trident?”

Hitoshi says, “yes. All four of the tide jewels connect to the trident. With them, the trident could very well be one of the most powerful blessed objects on this planet. If it falls into the wrong hands, the results could be catastrophic.”

“Now, hang on,” Denki begins, brows curved into a frown. “What?”

“So good at questions,” you murmur.

“Each tide jewel has its own magical property. The names speak for themselves, but since the two of you are a little slow on the uptake, I’ll explain.” Hitoshi points at each different spot on his fries-trident, explaining what each point represents.

“The yellow jewel is for artistry and skill. Whoever wields it, whether in its natural form or attached to another object, will learn trades quickly, can craft almost anything at a master’s level, and they’ll have a more creative way of thinking.”

“The red jewel is for reign and rule. Whoever wields this can command any audience. Wars have been fought, kingdoms taken, and women stolen by the power of this gem. It’s almost the most violent of the four, but it can also be used to keep peace.”

“The blue jewel is for the tide. They used to be two jewels, one for tide-ebbing, the other for tide-flowing, but they’ve been molded together after another theft mishap. With the power of this jewel, one would be able to control not only the water of the sea, but water itself. This gem can create storms you couldn’t dream of. This is possibly the most dangerous stone if placed into the wrong hands.”

“Sir, that’s a piece of lettuce,” Denki says.

“Your burger didn’t have anything blue,” Hitoshi growls, “nor did it have anything purple, which brings me to the last jewel. This would be the soul jewel. It aids people with wishes, can offer good dreams, and can allow the wielder to see people’s auras, or souls. This jewel has stopped many malevolent unions in the past.”

Finally, Hitoshi turns back to you and Denki. There’s nothing content about his expression now. If anything, he looks grave.

“The fact that the trident is not in my possession has already had a cataclysmic influence on the world you know now. I need it, and the jewels, or else there may be dire consequences.”

Throat dry, palms sweaty, you swallow thickly, and allow yourself a moment to process all that he’s saying. It may be idiotic, but you believe him. Maybe if you hadn’t seen him in the water earlier, things would be different. You’d be more skeptical. But since you’ve already seen one impossible thing today—two if you're counting the fact that Hitoshi grew legs and magically poofed himself an outfit—you don’t think he’s lying.

However, Denki did not see him in the water. Which is why he’s the first to speak.

“Right,” he says, looking down on you. “Sorry, babe, but the marvel universe did it first with Thanos and his gauntlet. If this is supposed to be a scavenger hunt of some kind, can we skip the game, hints and all, and get to the dinner? I expect there’ll be candles and such for nighttime, so maybe you and I can hang out at the beach, sans the mean magician?” Denki looks at Hitoshi. “No offense, buddy. You could join us if you cheer up a bit. I’d never say no to a threesome with two equally attractive people.”

The water in the glass you’re holding begins to shake. It shakes, and then it moves, and then it lifts up into the air, snaking around like a gelatinous worm, and slowly makes its away to Hitoshi’s mouth. Never before have you seen anyone swallow menacingly, and this has changed it.

“I am not your buddy,” Hitoshi hisses between his teeth, “and this is not a game.”

“He just…” Denki begins stuttering. This isn’t something he can chock up to something as mundane as a magic trick. This is pure magic, and you feel less like a giant dork for how you reacted to Hitoshi showing himself to you, with how distraught Denki seems to be.

“I told you,” you say under your breath, “he’s a fish!”

“I am Hitoshi Shinsou. I am one of Ryūjin, and you will not desecrate my name or my people by belittling me or my power.” It hadn’t occurred to you until now that he’s not only speaking to Denki, but to both of you. The thought makes you shift with unease as Hitoshi’s eyes slide from your friend to you. “Not without consequences. I’ve been burdened with this purpose, and the two of you can choose to help me and reap the rewards that follow, or you can return to your miserable lives, loligagging and ogling the things you know you want, but are too lazy to obtain.”

At this moment, Hitoshi Shinsou seems ancient to you. Trepidation crawls up your spine, chilling you to the bone. You regret most of what you’ve said to him, even the things you’d thought he deserved. You have an inkling that if Hitoshi really wanted to harm you, or Denki, he would. Easily.

“Okay, well-“ Denki, again speaks first, thank god. “You didn’t say there would be rewards.”

Maybe don’t thank god yet. But before you can apologize on Denki’s behalf, the air that you hadn’t realized had got heavier, thicker even, lifts, and Hitoshi eases up, lackadaisical smirk back on track.

“You both wish for something,” he says. “If you help me retrieve what’s rightfully mine, I will graciously return the favor by granting your wishes.”

“We do?” Denki asks. It’s wild to you how easily he could jump back into conversation like this, although, when you look closely at him, you can see that he’s trembling faintly. “What do I want?”

“You wish for a boat,” Hitoshi says, “so I will give you a boat.”

“I have a boat.”

“I’ll give you a better boat.” Hitoshi seems to be enjoying himself now, even going so far as to lean on the table, picturing exactly what he’s describing. “A captivating boat that both women and men find irresistible. It will sail smoother and faster than the other vessels out on sea. You will never want or need for an upgrade for it will never wear or tear.”

“A super boat,” Denki muses, beguiled by the idea. It’s your turn to be skeptical now, because you haven’t wished for anything. At least, not aloud for Hitoshi to hear.

“Then, what do I get?” You ask, arms crossed. You can admit that you’re interested in what he might have to say.

“Oh darlin’, that’s easy,” Hitoshi purrs, and moves from the counter over to you. Slowly, like he’s savoring your anticipation. Lifting a finger to your arm, he slides it across your skin, watching as both the glow and the tingles return. You have to hold your breath to yourself from sighing.

“You want to be loved,” he says, “adored even. And not just by anybody. You want to be with your soulmate, isn’t that right. That may be why you came to this island to begin with.”

There’s no way he could’ve known that you’re new to the island. Nobody said anything about it. But he’s not wrong. Though you can’t say he’s right either. You came to the island in hopes to find…yourself. And though you haven’t yet found yourself, you sure as hell found Kirishima. And soulmate has a nice right to it.

“So if we help you find these gems—“

“—tide jewels,” he intervenes.

“Tide jewels-“ you roll your eyes- “then you will give Denki a super boat, and you will unite me with a soulmate?”

“Exactly,” Hitoshi confirms. “Easy peesy, isn’t it?”

“How do we know you’ll uphold your end of the bargain?” Denki asks, finally out of his super boat daydreams.

“I said you were good with questions.” Hitoshi smirks. “You don’t know. You can’t know. But you can either do this with me, and probably get a super boat and a soulmate out of it, or you can not, and get nothing.”

Denki side-eyes you, and you him. You hold each other’s gazes for a brief moment, and you already know how this would play out if you refuse. Denki would convince you to do it. You don’t do anything, he says with his eyes. Might as well hang around and see how this plays out.

“Fine.” Even though your good conscience screams at you to do otherwise, you let up. “We’ll help you.”

“Excellent.” Hitoshi beams, or at least, he beams in a way only someone who was just threatening two other people can beam. “Then we should start our search today. We’ll probably need to go into town and see if there are any supernatural occurrences or old folktales to check out.”

Going out to town is the last thing you’d planned on doing today. Or maybe the second to last thing you planned on doing. You have to ask, because if you don’t, you’ll go batsy.

“We won’t be getting wet, will we?”

Hitoshi scoffs, which isn’t an answer. Maybe you really don’t ask the right questions because when Denki asks, “you said there were six things you need to retrieve. What’s the sixth thing?” Hitoshi winks at you, and grins. And when he grins, your stomach aches.

#bnha x reader #bnha reader insert #reader insert #mha x reader #hitoshi shinsou x reader #shinsou x reader #bnha imagines #mermaid!shinsou x reader #bnha mermaids #trident tale #tt

[lovebillyhargrove]

Wake me up when July is around

Chapter 4 Chapter 5/?

Steve's POV followed by Billy's.

Billy's POV in the car scene is canonically accompanied by Ted Nugent's screaming "Wango Tango"

***

"Who THE FUCK put a fucking dildo in my locker ??"

Hargrove's voice is booming in the school hallway. It's between angry and .. what is it, amused? Why is it fucking amused ?

Billy's turning away from the locker to scan the faces of those who happen to be around. People have heard the question. There are faint gasps and surprised giggles spreading across the hallway.

Harrington pretends to be digging in his own locker looking for a book, although he's dying to see Billy's face right now. How pissed is he exactly? Or better yet, how embarrassed ? He can't look now though, not that fast at least, or he'll betray himself right away.

Some guys are gathering around Hargrove to take a look, and Tommy is of course the first one to put his nose inside Billy's locker.

He's whistling

"Looks like you got yourself a secret admirer, man."

Carol is snickering and all the guys start laughing and whooping loudly, girls just hiding shocked giggles in their palms.

Steve thinks it's safe to watch the show unfold now. However, he quickly becomes disappointed.

Because that's definitely not the result he wished for.

Hargrove doesn't look embarrassed at all, what the hell. The motherfucker is grinning, like life has just become much more interesting. He takes out a box with an average-size skin coloured dildo and raises it above his head for everyone to get a better view.

"Oh look, there's a bow wrapped around it!" Carol, Tina, Vicky and other girls are close to being hysterical now

"Didn't know this school had welcome gifts for newcomers. Not bad, Hawkins High, not bad at all."

"Why would anyone .. how would you even use it ..?" Carol's curious, for fuck's sake, Carol is blushing but Hargrove just looks entertained

"You're asking very good questions. Let me just .." Billy bends and whispers something in Carol's ear while she covers her mouth in utter delight, eyes getting bigger and more illuminated

"Easy, bro!" Tommy is playfully shoving him away

"That's my girlfriend. Hands off." Carol looks intrigued and excited and not like she minds Billy whispering obscenities to her

"Sorry, man. My bad." Hargrove raises his hands in the air as if apologizing. He's still holding the box in one hand and throwing the other one around Tommy's shoulder, talking low so that only he and his significant other can hear him

"Maybe you and Carol can have some fun with that thing? I bet you can't get something like that around Hawkins. Someone must've put real effort into it."

Carol scrunches her nose in eager disgust, and Tommy looks interested but shakes his head, laughing.

Billy looks around until his eyes lock with Steve's.

"Yo Harrington! Any idea how it got into my locker, man?"

Steve is shrugging his shoulders, lips curved in a mocking smile

"Nah."

Harrington can see that Billy wants to say some more but restrains himself

"I'll just keep it here in case anyone needs it .. for some fun and games."

There's a teacher turning the corner and walking towards the loud gathering of teens

The crowd disperses, Hargrove bangs his locker closed, people still laughing and joking about the whole thing

Nancy comes back from the bathroom

"What happened here?" She takes Steve by the hand.

"Ugh, nothing. That new guy just wants attention, as always."

"Let's get to class?"

"Sure." Steve kisses his girlfriend's cheek.

"You seen it, man? The fucking sex toy??" Tommy is going to talk about it for a week.

Nancy speeds up and Steve has to follow.

Damn it. Fucking damn it! That is not the outcome Steve was hoping to achieve. He wanted to see Hargrove's face turn red, wanted others to make a couple of nasty jokes. It seems he can't really make people dislike Hargrove cause they already love him so much. It's like no-one is immune to Hargrove's charm.

The way Billy was easy about the whole thing, the way he's easy about a lot of things? Breezy and carefree, the way he can laugh anything off, and people will laugh with him. And still there's like an iron wall inside him, that hidden strength, the backbone.

Why is he not ashamed? Why is he not afraid?

What the fuck is his secret? And what the fuck is his problem ??

Steve is not listening to Nancy. He's not listening to the teacher during the class. His mind is busy with more important stuff.

So yeah, it was Harrington. He put a sex toy in Billy's locker. The whole affair needed some preparation, of course. Effort was definitely applied. When Steve was visiting Indianapolis with his parents at the weekend and shopping for new clothes, he had already been cradling the idea for a while. So he found a sex shop, put his sunglasses on, got inside, grabbed the first dildo he saw, paid for it in cash and left the store with a wildly beating heart. Then on Monday he stayed late after classes and picked Hargrove's locker. Looked around inside it. Nothing that stood out, just books. A picture of the ocean waves rolling on the vast sandy beach, stuck to the door. Must be California or wherever this asshole is from.

He stuffed the dildo in Hargrove's locker with a bright red bow wrapped around the box. Valentine's Day is too far away. Surprise, bitch, October Valentine's.

No, but seriously the motherfucking ass bitch. Why is he so fucking annoying, so annoyingly calm?

So the plan didn't work. Okay. Maybe it was stupid from the beginning. But .. take Steve, for instance? Steve would totally be pissed if he found a gift like that. Tommy would launch a whole investigation, sniff out and crucify the joker. All guys would be furious, like .. whatever would they need a dildo for? Is there an implication hidden in there?

But that jackass Hargrove didn't bat an eye. Cool as a cucumber. In fact, it all started with the giant cucumber he had given Harrington during that memorable Health class when Billy was teaching the class how to use condoms, ironically probably making half the girls present pregnant just from the sheer sexual energy of it. It was when Steve felt the underlying agenda, a probable insult like Hargrove was fucking with him, choosing the biggest of all the vegetables specifically for him.

Hence the dildo. Maybe Billy can stick it up his ass and unwind a bit. Leave Harrington alone. Become less exasperating.

Shit. It all played out not like Steve wanted it to. So much effort gone to waste.

Well, no, wait, wait. Not really. Every failed attempt is an experience, right? Now Steve knows that if he wants to bring that arrogant dick down a notch, he has to strike on a different level. Deeper.

Steve's gonna make him embarrassed. He's gonna make him fucking humble. He might just have come up with another way to do it.

Another little scheme.

Harrington's sixth sense is telling him there's something wrong with Hargrove.

Something .. something Steve has never come across face to face before, it's in the way he taunts Steve, in the way he looks, no, stares at him. There's a secret, there's a problem, and Steve's gonna take advantage of that.

Why does he want to do it? Steve just hates the used to be the most popular guy badge. Yeah, he's got a girlfriend now, a serious one. Relationship material. Well, maybe too serious, really like .. he likes her, even loves her, but he's been trying to make her loosen up a bit, you know? Try something different other than sweet and romantic and missionary. Shake her down for some fun. All in vain. Also, that troubling conversation they had when he was bringing her home last Friday? When Nancy suggested he should get Byers a camera to replace the one that he'd broken. What the fuck was that ?? Anyways, that's not the point here. So yeah, Steve's in a relationship, and Tommy has told him a couple of times already that he's walking a slippery slope of becoming pussy-whipped, but he's still fucking King of Hawkins High and he doesn't want some Californian self-entitled hotshot, the fucking pleb coming to his town and all of a sudden stealing the crown? All girls' eyes are on that ass, all of them are drooling to get a ride in the flashy blue car. All guys want to be Hargrove's friend. Tommy has been following him around like a bitch on a leash. He's doing good at school, he's superb at basketball.

Stupid fuck.

Harrington is not ready to let go of his title that easily. He still wants to be crowned prom king at the end of school year. He doesn't want to lose to that piece of trash who thinks he's the hottest shit.

Also, you know what, Steve would actually be absolutely fine with this new pain in the ass called Hargrove, if he quietly minded his own business. The thing is, he doesn't. He comes at Steve, he thinks he can take the fucking liberty of making obnoxious remarks, stick his nose into Steve's life, fucking push him around during practice like Harrington's a little snotty loser? Hargrove's been doing it since day fucking one, who the hell does he think he is?

Steve's not mean. Well, he's not the meanest, really. He never bites first. The photo freak? He deserved his camera to be broken. The creep was taking pictures of them, of his girl, in the middle of the night, hiding, like a stalker. What should Steve have done? Should he have patted him on the shoulder, great photos, man, real artistic shit, wow, do you mind taking a couple while we are actually making love?

Steve only bites when he gets bitten.

There is something else, too.

On top of everything, deep down, he hates the fact that Hargrove has somehow managed to sneak his way into the back of Steve's mind. Fuck knows how and why he got there. But he's there. Just yesterday morning, in the shower Steve was washing off the memories of a very vague but intense wet dream featuring Billy.

So he sets the new plan in motion.

It's really simple.

Next time they are in the showers, Harrington throws a glance at Billy. Doesn't say anything, throws another one. When Hargrove looks back, Steve averts his eyes. It's a matter of milliseconds.

Next day when they have basketball practice and Hargrove starts his usual dance, Steve pushes him back like he usually does, only gentler. Just a tiny bit, a whiff of less force, but Hargrove notices. It throws him off his game, like an unexpected stumble, and Steve is sensing it, like a hound.

In the showers he looks at him again, a second longer than the previous time.

Slight confusion is written all over Hargrove's face under his usual asshole expression.

Steve can feel it in his gut that Hargrove, despite being smart, has taken the bait, hook line and sinker.

Maybe, just maybe Steve has an idea what Hargrove's secret is, and he can make it work in his, King Steve's, favour.

Now all he has to do is wait for the right moment, keeping the interest up in the meantime. The moment when Billy slips, gets too greedy, and takes a big bite, Steve will hook him fast and reel him in.

Watch him choke on it.

Not for everyone's amusement, but exclusively for his own.

He will make this asshole humbled.

***

***

Billy knows it was Harrington. He's not dumb. It's the spoiled brat's way of saying "stick it up your ass and shut up already." It has a hidden message, a private message

It's payback for the biggest cucumber during health class, and a smirk that was painted all over Billy's face.

Jesus Christ, Harrington couldn't have ignored it, could he?

He wanted Billy all flustered and shocked and flailing his hands around like oh my god who could've done it, what should I do with it, why would anyone put something like that in my locker?

Or he wanted Billy shutting his locker quickly bursting into a bashful blush and looking around like someone's has found out his most shameful secret?

You picked the wrong guy, amigo.

I'm not one of you hick town prudes. A fucking sex toy could never make me embarrassed.

Weak, doll face, so weak. Is that all you got?

One thing is clear for Billy after this small episode.

Harrington really might be fun.

Too bad he's in a relationship that seems to suck all the spark out of him.

Although lately Billy has noticed something weird. Like something really.. impalpable has changed. The electricity current has become slightly different. It's dislike, it's jealousy, but with a sparkly tingle to it all now. Billy can't put his finger on it.

***

It's Friday, and Max is fucking late, again, like when is she gonna learn ?? Billy has been waiting for twenty minutes already, and his blood has been boiling for the same amount of time.

He finally spots her coming out of the middle school building talking to a couple of boys. One that looks like the nerdiest nerd ever, and the other boy's black.

If Max is gonna hang out with a black kid, Neil's gonna flip.

Guess who he's gonna flip at? Billy thinks in this case both he and his stepsister are gonna be caught in the same raging shitstorm.

Max, Max, Max, you seem clever, have you not figured out who your mom married yet?

It can become a really big problem.

Max gets closer to the camaro

Billy takes a drag. For the hundredth time, dear stepsister

"You're late again."

"But Mr. Clark was explaining the project assignment.."

"Jesus, I don't care. You're late again, and you're skating home again, nevermind what Neil says."

The red-haired leprechaun pouts and looks at Billy like she hates him.

She does, and Billy's fine with it. The second he's out of this town and heading west, he'll forget he even had a sibling.

When Max is sitting in the car, Billy notices a little smile on her lips like she's thinking about something funny. Stepsister seems to be in good mood?

Let's foul it up, out of spite.

Life is not a bowl of cherries, Maxine.

"God, this place is such a shithole."

"It's not that bad."

"No?"

Billy's sliding the windows down. It's farmland air, with all the smells that it implies

"Mmm .. you smell that, Max? It's actually shit. Cow shit."

Max doesn't seem to understand what's gotten into her asshole of a big brother.

"I don't see any cows."

"Clearly, you haven't met the high-school girls."

Why the hell did he say that, they are okay. Well .. Cali girls are way better, but like .. who cares. He's getting meaner by the second.

Max clearly does not want to keep this conversation going, but Billy's not done talking

"So what, you like it here now?"

"No."

"Then why are you defending it?"

"I'm not".

Why are you lying??

"Sure sounds like it."

"It's just we're stuck here, so .."

"Hmm. You're right. We're stuck here."

That's true. Maybe, just maybe if Susan was from another state, -- Florida? Oregon? Massachusetts? .. still closer to the water, could be breathing that ocean air that Billy misses so much, -- they would've moved there instead of the fucking middle of nowhere.

"And whose fault is that?"

There's a barely heard whisper

"Yours."

The fuck you mean? Your fucking mother was yapping about all the relatives out here, "Could be nice to be closer to the family, honey .." Could also be awesome to tear all what's left of the connections to Max's dad

"What did you say?"

"Nothing."

"Did you say it's my fault?"

"No."

Why are you lying ??

And why the hell is it my fault?

Max is looking at him with a scared expression on her face. It must've become clear to her that she blurted something really stupid that she shouldn't have

"I don't know."

"If you don't know, then shut up."

Max might be afraid of him but she's also stubborn as fuck

Just like Billy.

"It's just that .. you know it's about your mom."

These words are said in the direction of the car window, but Billy hears them nonetheless

"What did you just say?"

"Oh my god, nothing!"

Nooo, you didn't say fucking nothing.

My mom, Maxine .. My mother. Do not ever talk about my mother.

My mother is probably happily married and having a kid or two who she loves and cares about, and I'm stuck here where I don't wanna be, and dad's an asshole, and like .. the kind that wants to break you and turn your whole soul into a fucking desert, and I have this gaping hole in my chest, which nothing can cure, and you're a little piece of shit having your fucking theories which have no ground whatsoever, and you have always had your mom by your side, and now you have friends here, and you like it here already, and dad never fucking ever blames you for anything, cause I'm his scapegoat the whole fucking time, I never wanted a fucking sister!

Billy feels an upsetting sting in his eyes.

Two things in this world can bring him to tears.

Two people.

Mom, who he doesn't have, and dad.

Billy's not gonna cry in front of his stepsister. Instead, the mood swing has been set in motion, and he's close to rotating the full circle.

Fuck, Maxine, why did you have to bring up mom? Two people can make him cry, but mom is literally the only person, the mention of whom can make him unpredictable and completely off the hinges.

At least Neil is a constant. Billy knows what to expect. The old man doesn't hold any surprises anymore.

With his mother? He expected her to come back for him. She told him she would come back.

When he was little, right after his mom had left, and after the last phonecall when she still promised to come back for him

Soon, baby

It had already passed five or six months, then a year, and his hope was vanishing but somehow still there

And he cried more and more seldom

Cause there was no point

She didn't hear him

He used to stay on the playground and swing on the swing set till his head got dizzy, he wanted to fly so high, do the entire circle, denying all laws of physics

He imagined he would fall down and break a leg or something or worse and he'd be taken to hospital and his mom would somehow find out and run to him and take care of him and .. she would love him

He's swinging so high now, he wants to go all the 360 degrees

Billy changes gears and the car is gaining speed. He's turning up the volume of the music. Let's fucking tango, the upcoming song is a perfect match for his mood. Blood's pumping in his veins faster.

He's already spiralling and he doesn't give a fuck. Let the concrete wall stand in front of him now, he still won’t slow down

Max is sinking into the seat and clutching onto her seatbelt like she usually does when he's speeding dangerously

The fact is, Billy has done something stupid. He wanted to find his mom, okay? And what is more stupid, he tried fishing for some information about her from Neil. He tried asking him cautiously, heart almost jumping out of his ribcage, if his mom was still living in California. It was stupid and reckless, but he's done it out of hopelessness, because where else was he supposed to get anything on his mother?

No grandparents left, no relatives on mom's side.

Naturally, the only information that Billy got out of Neil was a hard grab of his hair, like his dad wanted to scalp him, red face distorted with anger and spit flying

"If you ask one more question about this whore .."

"She's not a whore!" Billy never learns.

Neil just shoved him against the wall with all his force and said, voice cutting what was left of Billy's heart in two

"One more question, and you don't have a car anymore, you don't have a home anymore, you're out in the street."

Anyways, it wasn't the reason for their move, but Max overhead their conversation with Neil that night, Billy saw that her door was cracked open and he could swear he saw her shadow standing by the door eavesdropping. She must've gotten ideas.

He spots a bunch of kids riding their bikes on the road

Could make use of that.

All right! One two three four

Come on boys

Time to wango!

"Billy, slow down."

"Oh, these your new hick friends?"

Max looks terrified. Bingo.

He's in luck.

"No, I don't know them."

Why is she always fucking lying?? Just say fucking yes, for once!

"I guess you won't care if I hit 'em then?"

My baby got no control

"I get bonus points, I get 'em all in one go?"

She do the wango tango

The kids are pedaling faster. Just turn off the damn road, you idiots.

"No, Billy, stop. It's not funny."

Being late is not funny. Lying is not funny. Bringing up my mom is not fucking funny!

"Billy, come on, stop it. It's not funny. Stop!"

My baby she can scream and shout

"Billy, stop it!"

My baby she can take a chance

Max grabs the steering wheel, the fucking kids finally turning right and falling off their stupid bikes, and Billy and Max, too almost end up on the side of the road

Thank fuck Billy might not be in full control of his rage, but he's always, always in control of his car.

"Yeah! That was a close one, huh?" He sounds like a madman.

Why like? He's mad, at everything and only getting madder

Wango tango

Wango tango

It's a wango tango

Oh yeah!

#harringrove #harringrove fic #harringrove slow burn #mean steve vs mean billy #billy x steve

[tripleaxeldiaz]

elmosolyodni for the wordstuck prompts 💕

elmosolyodni: to slowly break out into a genuine smile when being overcome with emotions, like love or utter happiness.

read on ao3

As much as he wanted it to be, as much as he wanted it for himself, Eddie’s never been great at romance. 

His proposal to Shannon was more like a suggestion, a stuttering statement that tumbled out of him when she showed him the positive test six months after their first date. And he didn’t give it much thought again — didn’t have time to think about it — until a couple months into his tour, when his team was swapping stories about wives and husbands over dinner and someone asked, “So Diaz, how’d you pop the question?”

The fact that he didn’t have a story to tell stung more than he thought it would.

He tried to make it up to her — bought her flowers when he was home, took her out for their anniversary every year, but between parenthood and redeployment and the growing chasm between them when he came back the second time, any notion of romance felt harder and harder to hold onto. And when she left, amid the panic and shame and anger, there was also a sadness, a resignation that the romance he’d quietly craved just wasn’t meant for him. He had bills to pay, a kid to take care of, a life to rebuild. Sweeping gestures from him or for him no longer seemed important.

That all changed when he met Buck, as most things in his life did.

Even before they started dating, Eddie wanted to do things for Buck. He wanted to buy him the shirt in the window display that reminded him of his eyes, wanted to make sure that they always had his weird Icelandic yogurt in the fridge for when he stayed over, wanted to wrap him up when he got that broken look on his face and remind him that he is loved by everyone and especially by Eddie. It was a physical need, one he felt in his gut every time, but he’d shut that part of himself off so firmly that all he could do was hope it didn’t linger too long. Buck needed a friend, and he’d be damned if he did anything stupid enough to ruin what they already had, what they’d already built.

It took a bullet ripping through his abdomen to make him realize what a terrible idea that had been.

But a year later wounds are healed, PT is long done, and he wakes up next to Buck every morning feeling happier than he has in almost a decade. He gets to buy the shirt for him, stock up on yogurt, and press himself into Buck’s space until his eyes get their spark back. He can fantasize about the house they’ll buy or the dogs they’ll adopt once Chris moves out.

He can see a titanium ring in the display case of the jewelry store at the mall and perfectly imagine what it would look like on Buck’s finger.

And he can make it all the way to his truck after buying it before the panic starts to set it.

He doesn’t register driving to Maddie and Chim’s until he’s frantically knocking on the door, hoping he heard Buck right and that Maddie’s off today taking care of a sick Jee-yun. The door flies open, and he sees Maddie’s face go from pissed to surprised to confused as she zeros in on the velvet box held limply in his hand.

“Uh, Eddie, that’s really sweet, but there are a lot of reasons why this would never work.”

His laugh is borderline hysterical as he gently pushes into the apartment. “It’s for Buck, but I— we haven’t really— I don’t even know if—” He doesn’t realize he’s pacing until Maddie takes his elbow and steers him to the couch, hands him a glass of water, and pushes him to sit.

“Breathe. Drink,” she says, and he does as his mind keeps spinning. She sets the empty glass on the coffee table and sits in the armchair across from him. “Okay. You want to propose. That’s a good thing, right?”

“Of course.” It’s the best thing, at the very top of a list of things he thought were untoppable.

“Have you guys talked about getting married?”

It wasn’t so much a conversation as a shift in language — one day the phrase “if we get married” changed to “when we get married” and neither of them thought twice about it because it felt so right.

“Sort of,” he settles on.

“And you’re sure he’d say yes?”

“Yes.” There’s few things in life he’s ever been so sure of, no matter what his earlier panic was making him think.

“So what’s the problem?”

He slumps back on the couch, hands running through his hair. “I don’t know how to do it.”

Maddie squints at him. “Eddie, it’s a pretty hard thing to mess up. And you’ve already been married, so don’t you have some practice?”

“That was different,” he says. “Shannon was already pregnant, it was more like a to-do list item than anything else. I didn’t even get her a ring until a couple months later.”

“Well you’re already a step ahead there, so that’s good.”

He sighs, pulling the ring box out of his pocket again and opening it. The thin line of silver running through the black glints in the sunlight, and he can still picture Buck wearing it so clearly, he’s just not sure how it gets there. All he knows is this aching need he can feel in his chest to make sure that however he does it, it’s enough — more than enough — that Buck knows exactly how deep his love runs, exactly how desperately Eddie needs him in his life and by his side.

Maddie moves to sit next to him and takes the box, and Eddie falls back into the cushions again. “I just want it to be perfect for him,” he says quietly. “Romantic. All the stuff people dream about when they think about getting engaged. But I have no idea how to do that.”

Maddie studies the ring for a minute before shutting the box, pressing it into his hand until he looks her in the eye. Her gaze is steady, piercing, and very (scarily) reminiscent of her brother’s. “You are asking him to marry you. It’s already perfect.” The reassurance helps, and it’s easy to smile back at her when she squeezes his hand. 

“But,” she says, reaching for a pen and notebook on the coffee table, “a little romance never killed anyone, so let’s make some lists and figure out what you do and don’t want to do.”

Lists sound good. Eddie can work with lists.

“Rule number one,” she says, already scribbling, “no sporting events. Nothing kills the mood faster than seeing your face on a Jumbotron…”

~~~~~~~~~~

In the end, none of the lists really matter.

Because two weeks later, they’re sitting on the back patio after dinner, night air cool and lit up around them by the lights Chris insisted on hanging for his last backyard sleepover. Buck’s going on about a patient who tried to insist he could do CPR on himself, and Eddie’s hypnotized by his enthusiasm, the expressiveness of his hands and the joyful blush on his cheeks. He says something that makes both of them laugh, bubbling through the quiet of the neighborhood, and Eddie knows, immediately and with every part of him.

He has to ask Buck now. It’s not the candlelit dinner and walk on the beach he’d decided on with Maddie, nor is it even close to as big and bold as anything else they’d come up with. But none of that matters now because his skin is buzzing and his heart is pounding and he doesn’t want the ring burning in his pocket a minute longer — he wants to swear himself to Buck right here, in this moment that is extraordinarily ordinary and perfectly them. This is a story he wants to tell people over and over, to their family and friends and anyone else who will listen.

The universe must still be trying to make up for the hell it put him through last year, because the playlist coming through their portable speaker changes to something softer, romantic, and Eddie takes his chance before he talks himself out of it.

“Dance with me,” he says, standing and offering his hand to Buck. 

“I’m sorry, are my stories boring?” Buck laughs as he takes his hand, folding into Eddie’s space like he’s always meant to be there, arms wrapping around his waist and pulling him close.

“Never,” Eddie says, and he pauses, because the one thing he and Maddie didn’t talk about was what he actually wanted to say to Buck when he asked. And now that he’s here with very little preparation, the huge, all-encompassing feelings he has for Buck refuse to be wrangled into a few measly sentences. None of the words he can think of feel big enough to capture how deeply his love runs, and he can feel his skin start buzzing for a much more unpleasant reason.

Hands squeeze his waist, zoning him back in and focusing him on Buck, on the crease between his eyebrows and the worry around his mouth. “Everything okay?” he asks, because he always knows when Eddie gets lost in himself, sometimes even before Eddie figures it out. 

Buck knows him better than he knows himself. He doesn’t need big, poetic monologues for Buck to understand what’s going on inside his head.

The buzzing changes again, fueling his determination as he slips his hand into his pocket. “I love you. So much it’s almost scary. But I’m more scared of spending the rest of my life without you,” he holds the ring up between them, “so will you marry me?”

Buck freezes, stopping them both from swaying with the music. Eddie watches his eyes flit between the ring and Eddie and back again, holding his breath as he waits for an answer. Finally, Buck’s eyes lock on Eddie and stay there, a soft smile growing and growing until it’s so incandescently bright that Eddie’s afraid he might have to look away or risk losing his vision.

And then, just as quickly, Buck drops his hands from Eddie’s waist and runs back into the house.

Eddie honestly isn’t sure what to make of this, the only thought running through his head being what the fuck just happened here. But then Buck’s running back outside, still smiling and not-so-secretly holding something behind his back, and now it’s Eddie’s turn to glow.

“You’re joking,” he says quietly, cheeks already hurting from a smile that feels permanent and eyes feeling a little wet.

Buck shakes his head, his eyes shining too as he holds up the velvet box. “Bought it like a month ago when Chris and I went to buy him a new backpack, I had to bribe him with a new video game to keep him quiet. I haven’t even gotten a chance to tell Maddie yet.”

Eddie wouldn’t be surprised if the sheer amount of joy coursing through his veins was making him float a couple inches off the ground. “Is that a yes then?” he asks.

Buck’s laugh is loud and sharp, and Eddie can’t think of a more perfect sound. He takes the ring out and tosses the box aside, holding it up next to the one in Eddie’s hand. “Only if you’ll marry me too.”

It’s a flurry, then, of rings on fingers and breathless kisses and whispers of I love you, I love you so much. The whirlwind settles and they start swaying to the music again, holding each other even closer, and Eddie revels in the new weight on his hand that ties them together. He feels light and loved, completely enveloped in this romance that he’s finally able to give fully and receive just as well. 

Buck takes his hand and places a kiss just below his ring, and Eddie knows this is just the beginning. They have a lifetime of love and happiness ahead of them, and Eddie finally feels like he deserves it.

#buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 fox #buddie fic #911 fic #9-1-1 #can i offer you all some proposal fluff in these trying times??? #alicia i'm sorry this took forever!!! #ficcery

[batsandbugs]

The Great IKEA Game

Chapter 5: Vent Shenanigans and Keurig Conversations

AN: Okay, this is the last that anyone is going to hear of me for two weeks. Then I’m out of school and will be ready to crank out some more chaos. Until then, I hope you guys enjoy!

Television shows made navigating through vents appear much easier than it was in real life. Then again, they also made being a superhero look easy too, and Marinette was painfully aware how that was false. 

Her knees and back ached from crawling through the low ceiling vents, and though she wasn’t claustrophobic, she was decidedly cramped. And if that’s how she felt, Damian, at more than half a foot taller, had to be doubly suffering. She asked how he was doing.

“I've crawled through far more pleasant vents before,” he replied seriously. “If we could continue quickly, we’ll come out near another vent gate in about ten or so minutes.”

They continued in silence until they came to a fork in the vent.

“Which way?” asked Marinette.

Damian hesitated. “I didn’t see this on the plans.”

“So, you don’t know.”  

“I did not say that.”

“So which way do we go?”

Silence.

Marinette sighed and closed her eyes, poking for the pooled energy inside herself. Being the Guardian of the Miraculous had helped her innate magic to grow in leaps and bounds, but it was her Ladybug powers she ultimately searched for. After being bonded with Tikki for so long, certain… qualities tended to bleed over. One such ability was making decisions infused with good luck. It wasn’t easy, but it was one she had been working hard to master.  

A glimmer of magic burned in her chest, and a fleeting whispered voice told her to turn left. She smiled in the dark of the vent.

“Left,” she said confidently, “we go left.”

“Why?”

Marinette’s smile turned into a smirk, even though Damian couldn’t see her. “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”

“You wouldn’t be the first to try.” The quickness made the reply appear casual, but Marinette could tell by the steel in his tone it told more truth than intended.

‘Who the hell did I team up with?’ her brain once again asked.

“Let’s leave me off the list,” she said, bypassing the dangerous remark with a gymnast's grace. “Come on.”

She crawled around the corner and, after only a moment’s hesitation, heard Damian follow after her.

Silence reigned for another minute or so before far in the distance they spotted light.

“Oh, thank the Kwamis, an exit,” Marinette muttered.

Damian grumbled behind her. “None of this appeared on the plans.”

“Learn to roll with the flow.” The light grew stronger, so she flicked off her phone flashlight. “Chances are it didn’t take your brothers too long to track me back to our hiding spot. They probably know we’re in the vents. If they found the same plan you did…”

“They won’t have any clue about this.” She could hear the pleased smirk in his voice.

“Exactly.”

The light flooded upwards from the vent floor. The slats in between large enough to view the room below. Marinette crawled over it and maneuvered herself around to face Damian.

“Nice to see your face again.”

The dim light from the vent illuminated his face. “N-Nice to see yours too,” he said. It was at that point, it dawned on Marinette that Damian's view the whole way through the vent was an up close look at her butt. From the heat radiating off her cheeks, it was likely her face was as red as his. She was torn between laughing hysterically and curling into mortified ball and never emerging.

Instead of either of those rational actions though, her mouth, her stupid, stupid mouth, decided to betray her.

“Enjoy the view?” she asked with a grin. ''What are you doing?' She yelled at herself, that was the last thing she wanted to utter.

Damian, if it was even possible, turned redder, and coughed lightly. “You have, uh, your bottom is quite shapely.” By the end of his confession, his voice was a high-pitched squeak, more appropriate for a preteen, then an adult. It took every bit of self-control for Marinette to keep from falling apart laughing.

“Thanks, I exercise,” she responded cheekily. A familiar magical hum settled in her breastbone. Her connection to the Kwamis magic. Marinette held back from rolling her eyes, even as her inner panic grew. One of the Kwamis was helping her to flirt. Probably Plagg judging by her cheesy replies.

‘They are the physical embodiments of the powers of the universe, and they choose to help me flirt. What even is my life?’

“It's working well,” replied Damian, with more of a teasing tone than an embarrassed one, although his cheeks still appeared redder than normal.

“Yeah, well…” Marinette sat there struggling for a reply, when noise from below cut off their impromptu flir- teasing session.

“I swear to God, if I find out who caused the mess in the Market Hall, I'll strangle them with my bare hands,” complained a voice from below.

Marinette winced when she saw Damian looking at her with a raised eyebrow. She hadn’t meant to cause that much damage.

“Oh, come on, Ian, it’s not like it was unscrewed on purpose. A bolt probably loosened and the shelf got bumped into. Blame it on bad luck.”

“Well, can I strangle bad luck then?”

Marinette held back an undainty snort. Plagg's constant whining and complaining coming to mind. ‘There I certain days I definitely want to.’

“I don’t think so. I’m more worried about the giant cart pile up.” At that, Damian raised a second eyebrow, and Marinette shrugged, she didn't controlled what the Bad Luck Balls did. “We’re gonna need to test all the carts to check for any more loose wheels, that’s gonna take forever. Anyway, are you headed home?”

“Yeah, I’m half an hour over the end of my shift,” responded Ian. Marinette could see two people moving around in the room below. “Ooh look, someone brought in doughnuts! You want one Casey?”

“No thanks, still trying to stay on that diet. I just came in here for a drink and then I’m back out on the floor.” The sound of a fridge door opened. “See you next week.”

“Yeah, you too Casey.”

The sound of another door opened leaving the room below silent once more.

“Shopping carts?” Damian asked, half-amused, and half bewildered. “I didn’t hear about that.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Escape was the highest priority, okay?”  

“When would you find the time to accomplish that?”

Marinette hesitated, there was no good explanation to give that would satisfy him. She wouldn’t tell him about the Miraculous or the Kwamis. It was her job, no her duty, to maintain their safety, and after everything she had fought for, bled for, nearly died for... no matter how comfortable he made her, there was no way he'd learn about what she could do. Especially when she had the feeling he was far more than meets the eye. Which didn’t leave much in the way of a good excuse for what she did and how.

Then, as if understanding Marinette’s great need for a distraction, their stomachs rumbled in unison. They looked at each other for a moment before laughing.

Marinette huffed, wiping away a tear of joy from her eye. “Okay, we need to find food to eat.”

Damian nodded. “The food court is a no go now; Drake will monitor it even more closely than before. We could find a vending machine?”

An idea popped into Marinette’s mind. “Or… how about the doughnuts?”

“Huh?”

She pointed down. “This is the breakroom. Ian mentioned doughnuts.”

“That would be stealing.”

“As opposed to the twenty other things we’ve stolen over the course of the past two hours?”

Damian rolled his eyes. “I can back pay those.”

“So, we’ll send them a box of doughnuts once we’ve won. I’m sure the IKEA employees will understand the doughnut's sacrifice to a worthy cause. Besides, breakrooms have coffee machines.”

Damian sneered. “Coffee from a machine will taste will taste like swill.”

“Didn't you say your brother dragged you out of bed at eight this morning? Coffee means caffeine, which means energy.”

He tilted his head and contemplated it for a moment. “Fair point.” He looked at the grate. “It’s probably a ten-foot drop. Can you handle that?”

Marinette had to refrain from rolling her eyes. She had free fallen off the Eiffel Tower before, she could handle a measly ten-foot drop. But Damian wasn't aware of any of that of course. “Yeah, I can do that.”

He dug into his pocket and pulled out the laser pen. “Back up, it’s going to get hot in here.”

Marinette averted her eyes while Damian cut the grate away with the laser, the heat making the metal vent shaft turn into a furnace. She wiped away at a bead of sweat forming at her brow. The grate gave way and clattered against the floor below. Damian put away the laser and gave her a quick smirk. He slipped his legs into the hole where the grate had been and jumped to the floor, landing with a soft thud.

Breathing a sigh of relief at finally leaving the cramped vent, Marinette maneuvered her legs to dangle over the vent opening and slid out, bracing herself for the landing.

But instead of meeting the floor, she found herself caught in mid-air. Damian had her in his grasp, holding her off the floor by a few inches with his strong arms snug around her waist. Their eyes caught and the air between them grew thick with tension. His bare hands brushed against a sliver of her exposed back, the contact sent shivers up her spine.

Neither of them breathed for a brief moment.

“I told you I could handle the drop,” Marinette said, her words barely above a whisper.

“I know.” Damian’s voice matched hers. The look in his eyes impossible to decipher. His arms tightened for a moment, before letting her slip-free.

Marinette smiled, resting her hands against his arms. “Thanks.”

Damian opened his mouth, hesitated, then closed it. He stepped back, effectively breaking the bubble around them. Marinette pushed the rapid flutter in her chest away. She could deal with it later when she was far removed from crazy games of hide-and-seek, and dark-skinned boys who made her too comfortable to be safe.

She turned and looked around the room they had dropped into, finding it, thankfully, empty. The last thing they needed was security getting called on them. Spotting the counter with the box of doughnuts on it, Marinette smiled.

She walked over to the box. “Well, it’s no Parisian artisan pastries, but I suppose the chain-restaurant swill will suffice,” she teased, looking back over her shoulder at Damian.  

“Ha, ha, very funny,” he deadpanned. Heading over to the coffee machine to start a new pot. She turned her attention back to the box, the words Krispy Kreme printed on the front in large green letters, several doughnuts still inside.

“Which one do you want?” she asked.

“Anything with chocolate.”

“You have excellent taste.”

“I strive too.” That made Marinette smile. It was such a Chole-like response. She had to make sure never to introduce the two of them.

Marinette pulled out a few doughnuts and put them in the microwave. They would taste much better warm. After a few seconds, she brought the plate over to Damian staring at the ancient coffee machine with distaste.

“Here, you take this.” She pushed the plate of warm doughnuts into his hands. “And I’ll deal with this.” Grabbing a filter to place the pre-crushed coffee grounds into.

“Tt, why don’t they use a Keurig?” he asked with a sneer.

“Uh… because it’s a breakroom in an IKEA?” Marinette was shocked to find a breakroom at all. She’d figured employees would have to lean against the wall if they wanted a break, before being prodded into moving again by their superior. At least, she thought that was what Americans did.

Damian scoffed. “Everyone uses Keurig.”

“Even you, Mr. Machine coffee tastes like swill?”

“No, Alfred makes our coffee in the morning French press style. I do occasionally steal Drake’s Keurig out of his room when he hasn’t slept in four days to watch him cry though.”

“Damian!” she exclaimed.

“What? It’s for his own good. At that point he’s more likely to make a mistake, he needs sleep, not more caffeine.”

Marinette's thoughts flickered to her own Keurig she bought before she left Paris and the number of times she had played out the exact scenario Damian described. “Coffee is a lifestyle.” She grabbed two paper cups and placed one underneath the machine as the coffee dripped.

“It’s a crutch. Drake is a grown man, and he should, mlph-” Marinette cut him off by shoving a chocolate doughnut into his mouth. He glared at her.

“Getting between a determined person and their coffee is a criminal offense and should be punished.” She grabbed a doughnut for herself taking a bite of the sugary pastry. It tasted nothing like her parents’, but her empty stomach didn't care, so it would do. “Who’s Alfred by the way? Another brother?”

Damian took half the doughnut out of his mouth, swallowing the rest. “Most people wouldn’t dare to take the liberties you do with me.”

“Good thing I’m not most people,” Marinette responded with a smile. “You’re avoiding the question.” She took the cup out, now full to the brim of steaming hot coffee, and replaced it with the second.

“No, fortunately, I have no more brothers. Although my father likes to pick up strays so who knows if we’ll obtain another. Alfred is our butler.”

Thankfully, Marinette hadn’t taken a sip of coffee otherwise she might have done a spit-take. “You have a butler?” She had gotten the impression his family was pretty rich, and she was used to her friends having personal staff, but never failed to shock her when this level of luxury was mentioned so casually.

Damian shrugged. “Tt, butler, pseudo-grandfather, the only reason our family functions even semi-normally; same difference.”

Marinette shook her head in exasperation. “If you say so.” She pulled out the second cup, handing it to Damian. He took a sip.

“If mediocre had a taste…”

“Oh, shut up and drink it.”

They devoured their meager rations in silence, going back for seconds on both doughnuts and coffee. Marinette was by no means full when she finished, but at least her stomach wasn’t threatening to eat itself anymore.

“So, where do we go from here?” she asked.

Damian pulled out his phone. “The store closes at nine, which means we either have to avoid my brothers for eight more hours, or…”

“We have to knock them out of the game completely.”

“Exactly.”

“So, are we gonna actually knock them out, or should we just get them kicked out of the store?” She would normally try to avoid the use of excessive force on civilians, but from the few hints Damian had dropped, Marinette figured his family was used to a higher level of insanity. Living in Gotham must have that effect.

“Effective and vicious,” commented Damian, “I like the way you think. As much fun as it would be to knock them out, getting them kicked out is probably the better method. We have… family plans for this evening that potential concussions would make difficult.”

“Who’s our first target?”

“Drake,” said Damian without a moment’s hesitation. “He’s their eyes and ears. The other two are still good at hacking, but he’s the best. Get rid of him, and Grayson and Todd will be scrambling to recover. Plus, he’s the least likely to put up a fight.”

With a plan made, they erased their presence from the breakroom, hiding the lasered off vent grate and discarding their trash. Once confident the coast was clear they snuck out of the breakroom, and into the bowels of the back hallways, leaving nothing but doughnut crumbs and the smell of coffee in their wake.

It was time for the hunters to become the prey.

Tag List (closed, sorry) 

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#damimari #maribat #maridami #daminette #damientte #damian x marinette #marinette dupain-cheng x damian wayne #mlb crossover #mlb x dc #the great IKEA game #hide and seek

[sserpente]

A/N: Request from @wrenstrange! Put up the decorations, it’s finally time again! Enjoy, everyone!

Words: 1957 Warnings: pure fluff, blood sample/needle/syringe, soft!Loki, fatique, fainting

You dropped like a piece of wood right about when you were making yourself a cup of tea in the kitchen. Knees ceasing to support you any longer, vision darkening, stars dancing around you making you dizzy. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and before you knew it, your body finally won and shut down.

Although if you could have chosen, you would not have fallen straight into Loki’s arms whose reflexes caught you, preventing you from hitting the hard floor beneath you. He cradled you with his brows furrowed, his blue gaze almost helpless as he looked at Thor and Stark for support.

Then, everything went black.

-

“Welcome back.” You blinked, the artificial lights above your head blinding you. A hand held you down when you attempted to sit up drowsily. Bruce was leaning against a metal table in Tony’s lab, hands crossed before his chest and with a concerned expression on his face. “You blacked out,” he explained, “out of the blue.”

“How are you feeling?” Tony added.

You only realised then that it was Loki who had held you down. He was sitting on a chair right next to the makeshift bed they had carried into Tony’s lab and he was observing you with Argus eyes. Your heart sped up when you noticed. You usually tended to avoid the God of Mischief at all cost. There was a part of you that was afraid of him after watching him making an entire crowd kneel in Stuttgart, the other was hands down swooning over him. It had all started when he had rescued a cat from a tree, honouring a cliché he had not even been aware of. But someone who helped defenceless little kittens had to have a soft heart deep down, no?

Thor had brought him to Earth along with him after Asgard had been destroyed. He could not exactly be considered an Avenger but he had long surpassed the villain image… at least, to some extent. Well, you were no Avenger either. You used to be a SHIELD intern and then somehow ended up with the superheroes themselves. Apart from some basic fighting skills and the ability to use a gun, you had been trained to spend most of your time in front of a computer, often working twelve hours or even more a day. What did they say? Evil never sleeps.

“Any idea what might have caused this?” Bruce continued.

You shook your head. “No. But I’ve been having migraines and a persistent fatigue that just won’t go away.”

“I see… anything else?”

“Um…”

“You can talk to us, (Y/N).”

“Well, I… I’ve been dizzy a lot lately but that sometimes happens during my special week of the month so I didn’t think anything of it.” You took a deep breath but hesitated.

“And?”

“I’ve been sweating way more when working out. Like, a lot more. Instead of making progress… I feel like I’m getting weaker every day. It’s frustrating.”

“Uh-huh. I’m taking a blood sample. FRIDAY will run a couple of tests on you to figure out what’s wrong.”

“What? No! Nothing’s wrong! We don’t need a b-blood sample.”

“No one faints for no reason, (Y/N), especially not on Loki.” Loki rolled his eyes but did not leave your side, even when Bruce started fiddling around with some gear and apparently, a first-aid kit and then approached you with a syringe and a small clear vial.

“I’ve done this a million times before, I’ll be gentle.”

“No! No, no blood test, Bruce, please!” Almost hysterically, you moved back on the bed, your heart in your mouth.

“(Y/N),” Loki suddenly said calmly. You shivered when he spoke your name, his head tilted slightly. “Are you afraid of needles?”

“N-n-no…” You lied. Loki raised an eyebrow.

“Look at me.” He said. Hesitating only a little, you did as you were told. It wasn’t like his tone allowed any contradiction anyway. In fact, it reminded you a lot of his strict and bossy tone when he had caused chaos in Germany. “It has to be done. Hold my hand and do not take your eyes off of me.”

“Who are you and what you have done to Reindeer Games?” Tony tossed in, throwing the Trickster a suspicious glance. Loki rolled his eyes once more. As if he had any obligation to explain himself to Stark of all people.

In the meantime, you were panicking even more. Loki was being nice and considerate with you and Bruce was about to pierce your skin with a needle. Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck… your breathing sped up.

“Look. At. Me.” Loki repeated. You obeyed this time, allowing him to take your hand and press it gently. Much to your surprise, it immediately calmed you down a little. You gaped at him unbelievingly. You didn’t even feel the needle going into your skin and drawing blood. Wait… was he casting a spell on you?

“There. All done.” You could not bring yourself to look where Bruce brought your blood sample but when both Tony and he stepped away and turned their backs on you, you swallowed.

“T-thank you…” You had to ask—not because you did not think he was not capable of offering his help without seeking a personal advantage and not because you didn’t think he was too evil to even think about being selfless… but because you were genuinely curious about his motivation. Loki did nothing without a reason, he was always one step ahead. “You put a spell on me, didn’t you?”

He nodded. “Why… why did you do that for me?”

“We are all afraid of something.” It was the only response he gave you. For a few moments, you merely sat there quietly, neither of you uttering a single word. Only when Bruce and Tony returned did you realise that Loki was still holding your hand.

“Okay… I’ve got the results from your blood test and FRIDAY couldn’t find anything suspicious.” Tony announced, scrolling on his tablet. Bruce adjusted his glasses to take a peek.

“You said you’ve been feeling tired? You sweat a lot, you get dizzy, and I’m presuming you barely have an appetite?”

“I don’t have time to eat a lot to be honest…” You confirmed.

“Any concentration problems?”

Pressing your lips together to a thin line, you thought about it for a moment. Now that he mentioned it… it had gotten obnoxiously hard to focus on your work lately. Eventually, you nodded.

“Sounds like severe exhaustion to me.” Bruce said. “Do you have issues with low blood pressure or diabetes or any other medical condition? No, FRIDAY would have found something like that. You know what I think? You overworked yourself.”

“Like… a burnout?” You probed.

“Most definitely.”

You grunted. Oh, that was just great. There you were, attempting to squeeze in regular workouts in this awesome training hall the Avengers called the HARM room after work to get stronger and hence, eventually gather up the courage to speak to Loki and now you looked exactly like what you did not want him to see you as—a weak and meagre human.

“The best medicine would be for you to quit work for a while and stop physical exercise altogether.”

“Banner is right,” Tony added. “Take a few weeks off and rest, sleep in, eat more and healthy… the whole program. I officially give you a holiday.”

“You’re not my boss, Tony, you can’t give me a holiday.” Your smile was weak. “But I don’t have time for this anyway! I can’t believe this is happening so soon before Christmas!” You whined. “I can’t stay in bed, I’ve got so much to do! I have to buy presents and decorate and bake biscuits and make gingerbread… Besides, I’m gonna fall behind on all the data.”

He shrugged. “I’ll take care of that. Let me talk to Fury. You let us know if you need anything. Can you take her to her room, Reindeer Games? And please, no funny business.” Beside you, Loki was just frowning, utterly ignoring the billionaire’s request.

“Why were you pushing yourself so hard?” He finally spoke when the two Avengers had left—whether it was genuine confusion or mere curiosity in his voice, you were not sure. “Why were you training for battle in the first place? I have never seen you out on a mission.”

You sighed. Time to let the cat out of the bag, it wasn’t like you were still going to make a good impression on him anymore now.

“I wanted to impress you, I guess…”

“Impress me?” Loki repeated incredulously.

“Yeah… catch your attention… in a way. I mean, part of me is still terrified of you, of course but… you have a good heart, Loki. I knew when I saw you rescuing that cat from the tree.”

The God of Mischief rolled his eyes. “I knew this was going to damage my reputation.” He responded with a sly smirk, making you grin. “It was an innocent kitten, what was I supposed to do?”

“See?”

Your heart skipped a beat when his blue eyes locked with yours. He appeared… uncertain; not used to dealing with affection. Loki swallowed.

“Can you walk?”

“I’m not sure…”

The God of Mischief sighed, his lips pressed together to a thin line. Without any hesitation, he snuck one of his arms under your knees and wrapped the other around your waist. He lifted you off the makeshift bed as if you weighed nothing—and to him, you probably didn’t.

Loki carried you to your room in utter silence and eventually lay you down in your bed. Your heart jumped when he sat down on the edge of the bed himself, with a peculiar interest in his hands so he would not have to look you in the eye.

“There is no need to impress me.” He suddenly said. Your head shot up. “I did not think anyone would even… never mind.”

Oh. It almost felt like you were finally getting to know each other, for real this time.

“Do you want to stay for a while? I was going to watch some Christmas movies if I’m not allowed to get out of bed.” You sighed. “I can’t even decorate. You have no idea how many decorations I have to put up. None of the others care to make it a little more festive here, especially not Fury.”

“Yes, I have seen the boxes.” Loki replied. “It’s a little… corny, wouldn’t you say?”

“Honestly, when living among superheroes who risk their lives every single day, you could use a little corny.”

“I see.” Loki simply waved his hand and before you knew it, your entire room was decorated. Green and red tinsel shimmered on your window sill, holiday lights were blinking above your door and fake—but incredibly real-looking—snowflakes hung from the ceiling. Many of your favourite decoration items were now sitting on your nightstand and your desk, including your tiny little Christmas tree. The rest of the decorations, so it seemed, Loki must have spread all over the Tower.

“Oh my Goodness… Loki, this is amazing!” The God of Mischief winked and when you looked down on yourself, you noticed you too were wearing a green and gold Christmas sweater. Heavens, you could kiss him. “Thank you so much! What did you… is the entire Tower…”

“Yes.” He confirmed. He didn’t have to. Tony did only a fraction of a second later.

“Thor! Can you tell me why my Ironman helmet just grew metal antlers? I swear to God, if Reindeer Games has something to do with this…” It was then you exploded with laughter despite your exhaustion.

-

A/N: If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate it so much if you considered supporting me on Kofi! It’s either for caffeine or red wine, I’ll take both. ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥

#loki #loki imagine #loki x you #loki x reader #loki fluff #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson imagine #loki laufeyson x you #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson fluff #loki odinson #loki odinson imagine #loki odinson x you #loki odinson x reader #loki odinson fluff #thor #thor imagine #the avengers #the avengers imagine #mcu #mcu imagine #marvel #marvel imagine #tom hiddleston