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0little-miss-scare-all0 · 1 month

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General Dethklok/Managerial Headcanons :3

A/N: this may or may not be dry asf i'm writing b4 the hcs so i don't forget😭😭

this is NOT proofread

Nathan Explosion :

i think he's like 6'5

its just this weird hunch i have

definitely somewhere from 28-35

i don't make the rules man😔

obviously Native American from the whole bloodlines episode

i can't remember what it's called for the life of me😭

i don't have any other nationality hcs for him

i think the show does it well enough

has gauges idc

they probably aren't hella big, but they're there

maybe an industrial or some kind of cartilage piercing

i think his favorite song they've made is Mutilation on a Saturday Night

it makes him think of early dethklok without the prophecies and shit

favorite album is the Dethalbum

probably has a bias bc it's the first project they did (totally not projecting rn😭)

song that makes me think of him is Ugly Model Mannequin by Cane Hill

idk why, it just does

Skwisgaar Skwigelf :

he's 6'10 NO ONE can convince me otherwise

his tagline isn't "taller than a tree" for nothing man

i saw someone say that Brendon himself said Nathan and Skwisgaar are the same age, so i'm not touching on that

biggest Swede ever man

like he quite literally had the Swedish flag on his belt buckle in Doomstar Requiem

go look it up i'm not joking

but maybe his dad is from like Switzerland to make him a slight bit more interesting

i doubt that he'd have any piercings

maybe his ears but that's it

i just cant see him with anything crazy

someone mentioned an elf ear body mod for him

makes sense that fairy

that last one was uncalled for hold on😭😭

this guys favorite song is awaken

he just loves the instrumentals

the little do-do-do-do do do do do do they do

idk how to explain it just go give it a listen😭

favorite album is the Dethalbum III

i think he likes how all the songs sound similar, so it isn't hard to remember the riffs (don't mention my terminology i am the farthest thing from a guitarist😭)

song that reminds me of him is Viking by Slaughter to Prevail

i just think he relates to the whole viking lineage thing

also the breakdown goes HARDDD

Toki Wartooth :

maybe like 6'1

this is going off gut feeling, not anything related to the show

i think he's like 25

he didn't look that old in Doomstar Requiem

the type of guy to sneak in like 20 cats and give them treats to not make noise

i think he regresses to like 6-7

idk why i just think yk

i think he also has gagues

they're probably white

he totally has an eyebrow piercing that pickles did in like 1900 BC that he didn't want anymore so he just let that hoe close

i think with the way his family is he would just be 100% Norwegian

no ifs not buts

might know some Latin

probably just prayers and shit like that

his favorite song they've made is Dethharmonic

or the Deththeme

for Dethharmonic he likes the orchestral elements

for the Deththeme he just likes that his name is first😭

i'd say his favorite album is the second one

just bc the album cover is purple, literally no other reason

probably bc it stands out from all other death metal albums

purple probably isn't considered a "metal" color (it should be though)

a song that reminds me of him is Summer Breeze by Type O Negative

i think he'd appreciate how chill it is

Pickles the Drummer :

bro easily 5'6-5'8

he's a short king

Wisconsin 100% his family is from no where else

like the drummer family goes back to the 13 colonies

obviously he has four piercings

those eyebrow ones

i think he has some on his ears

cartilage but not industrial

his favorite song they've made is Hatredcopter

he just loves how he sounded and the drums (based)

i forgot to say how old he is

he's the oldest, so i'd say like 39

they're not allowed to be 40 bc i said so

i think his favorite album is Dethalbum IV

it just makes him proud to see how far they've come since Dethalbum I

a song that makes me think of him is Wrong Way by Sublime

and Your Mama Won't Know by Pretty Boy Floyd

he's most definitely taunting TF out of the band with that "mom" shit

"go get mommy a bottle" "give mommy the remote"

he's insufferable (i would be too)

William Murderface :

he's 5'10 and i HAVE to be firm on that

probably like 30

MAYBEEE 33 if i feel generous

he hates pickles

the food, not the drummer

along with Toki, he also loves Christmas

it just "isn't brutal" so he won't admit it

he's like a 5 year old when that shit rolls around

that's why he wanted that special so damn bad

his favorite album is also Dethalbum IV

he just loves the new sound

a song that reminds me of him is Subliminal by Suicidal Tendencies

i feel like he'd like their whole self titled and Lights... Camera... Revolution

i cant speak for all of Freedumb, bc i only listen to Cyco Vision, but he'd like that song too

i get a big Murderface vibe from them

maybe it's the whole punk thing

and Murderface being a Nihilist

it just ties it all together with a nice big blood red bow

i think hes latino like i've seen everyone say

he can probably speak Spanish well

speaks the Spain dialect (i'm not very educated about this tell me all abt it in either reblogs or comments)

Charles Offdensen :

he's like 6'2 or 6'3

i cant decide

i think it would be so funny if he was like 40 and the band made him seem 56

in reality he's probably like 42

that seems right to me

went to some high end law school

i'm pretty sure that's when they said he jousted

idk i just remember he can do it

i like to think he's wasian

Korean and Swiss if we wanna be specific

he grew up in American bc i love my country✊🏻😔😔

anyway, i say wasian bc he has a monolid i think

at least it looks like it to me

maybe it's just his glasses hiding it who knows

probably from the middle of buttfuck nowhere

like some place in Oregon

his favorite album is the Doomstar Requiem soundtrack

IDC WHAT YALL HAVE TO SAY

i think he likes how fun it is

and is very cocky about how good his parts are

his favorite song tho is Poisoned by Food

the opening scream is his shit

a song that reminds me of him is Visage by LANDMVRKS

it's kind of quiet at the beginning which helps him lock in for the rest of the song and all the songs after it

probably listens to metal all day, then goes to bed and listens to some goth shit

maybe even classical if he's feeling posh

wasn't raised religious, but still celebrated the holidays

the christian ones specifically

a canon fidgeter

in Dethdinner he was wiggling his fingers

thank you to that one charles lover with the spreadsheet of his behaviors i forget their handle

they pointed it out and i've geeked abt it ever since

Abigail Remedlindrinc :

don't quote me on her last name i cant spell that fuckin thing😭

i think she's like 5'8 easily

probably 34

not much older than Murderface but definitely not younger

shes probably from somewhere normal like Pittsburgh

ofc i say where i'm from for normal

anyway she's definitely not from PA idk what i was on abt

i cant think of a specific place she'd be from

i feel bad i don't have much for her i love her sm

she probably still has Nathan's number saved

in my heart they're still best friends

in canon god does she hate him

she's just so amazing i love her

Dick Knubbler :

this man omfg

he's like 5'10 too

maybe 5'11 on a good day

he looks old

maybe like 40

up there with charles 100%

hes such a goofy mf i hate him

but like i hate him lightheartedly

my dad loves him he thinks he's funny

he looks like the type of mf to talk in his sleep

he definitely rolls around a lot too

has to have a big ass bed or his frail ass will fall off

i think of him when i hear any pop song from the 80s

like Taylor Dayne, and Prince even though i think he was 90s

idk man i wasn't alive😭

#metalocalypse #dethklok #mtl #nathan explosion #pickles the drummer #skwisgaar skwigelf #william murderface #toki wartooth #charles foster offdensen #charles offdensen #abigail remeltindtdrinc #dick knubbler #i feel like such a nerd writing this #dey widderwy do all this widderwy🤓

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fuckyeahdindjarin · 2 years

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III ║ Dapple Grey

Jack Daniels x f!reader

{ << Part 2: Buckskin | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Part 4: Strawberry Roan >> }

Rating: M (will be E in future chapters)

Summary: Tinder is a dangerous game. So is Never Have I Ever.

Warnings: Flirting, yearning, insecurities, sexual tension, gratuitous descriptions of the male body, sexual innuendoes, language, mention of food, drinking, drinking games, mention of breakup, no use of Y/N

Word count: 6.5k

Notes: I had a little bit of a meltdown writing this part. Thank you @mandoblowmybackout and @prolix-yuy for talking me out of it ❤️ I had the busiest week so I didn't have as much time as I usually do for edits, so this chapter's a bit of an… experiment 🙈 Thank you for everyone who's been so kind to me and this series - I hope you enjoy this part! 🦄

Dapple grey: A grey or white horse with spots or areas of a darker colour.

Day 2

‘Stop looking at me.’

‘I’m not.’

You turn the camera around to show Jack the photo you just took and deadpan, ‘I have literal proof of you looking straight at me.’

The two of you are sitting underneath the shade of a tree, a simple lunch laid out in the middle on a picnic blanket. The horse’s saddles and packs are resting against the trunk behind you while they graze nearby.

In front of you, several yards away, the grassy plain drops off into a deep valley. And beyond - a sight to behold. If the bentonite hills had been sculpted by a higher being, they must have run an inadvertent finger through the clay while it was on the spinning wheel, creating dramatic curves that cut into the soft rock. The hills are painted from left to right for miles and miles in white, red and green stripes, candy cane colours faded under the sun.

Jack gives you a scowl as he rolls up his tortilla wrap, but there’s no real annoyance behind it. He grumbles, ‘It’s hard not to. You’re pointing the camera at me.’

‘Well, you gave me full control of today’s photography, so you have to do what I say.’

He flings an accusatory finger at you. ‘Only because you promised to help us with our marketing.’

You press a dramatic hand to your chest. ‘What exactly are you insinuating, cowboy?’

‘You’re obviously taking pictures for the Tinder thing instead, which, by the way, I am not convinced about,’ replies and takes a bite of his wrap.

‘Not convinced - ha! Says the guy who drives two hours to a bar and doesn’t even know if he’ll get laid,’ you retort. ‘And don’t you worry, cowboy, these pictures will definitely work for both the ranch and Tinder.’

His frowns. ‘What do you mean for the ranch?’

‘I mean for the website and social media. Honestly, I’m surprised there aren’t any pictures of you on there already. You guys would get so much business you’ll have to turn people away.’

He cocks an eyebrow, arrogance seeping into his smile. ‘Oh, and why is that?’

You roll your eyes at his fishing for a compliment. ‘You know why, cowboy.’

‘Enlighten me, darlin’,’ he insists with a wink. ‘I want to hear it from the horse’s mouth.’

You put the cap back on the lens and reprimand, ‘What did I say about your ego last night?’

You avoid his gaze as you unwittingly steer the conversation into dangerous waters. You probably shouldn’t be bringing up anything from the night before - at all. There’s no alcohol to blame in the bright light of day though. Somehow, just being around this cowboy is enough to cloud your better judgement and make you say reckless things.

When you finally peer at him out of the corner of your eye, he casts you no more than an amused glance. Polishing off his lunch and dusting his hands, he looks away to watch the horses.

The morning hours before passed with no mention of what transpired by firelight. All the tension that has built up between you two in the dark burned off with the daybreak mist, and you’re feeling a lot lighter after your little bedtime distraction. And in the absence of any suggestive ogling or innuendoes from the cowboy, you conclude that you must have gotten away with it. All you are is a bit saddle sore, but nothing too serious, and you ride on with little difficulty.

An easy camaraderie has set in between you and Jack after surviving your first night together in the mountains. The banter packs a bit more punch now that you are no longer complete strangers, and you spend the morning trading horsey stories.

Jack learned to ride on his uncle’s farm. His first pony belonged to his older cousin who lost interest in the sport, so he spent years riding Sparkles, resplendent in matching pink bridle and saddle, until he outgrew her. He worked in and around the equestrian circuit until Champ offered him the job ten years ago, after meeting at a rodeo.

The conversation petered out when the lush green landscape gave way to drier sand, and suddenly, towering ahead, were the famous soaring red earth formations that you’ve been travelling the last two days for. Jutting out of the ground and chiselled by centuries of wind and rain, the echoing clops of the horses’ hooves bounced off the crimson stone as you rode under arches and past columns, dwarfed by the natural architecture.

After spending the better part of an hour exploring the red earth valley, you were taking a quick water break in the shade, when an idea struck you.

‘Do you think I’d get a discount for my next trip if I helped you guys with your online marketing?’

Jack chuckled. ‘Already thinking about coming back, huh? I mean I’ve always been told that I’m charming, but a turnaround this quick-’

You leaned out of your saddle to give him a small slap on the shoulder for his cheek. ‘Don’t let it get to your head, cowboy. I’m doing it for selfish reasons - a project like this would be a great addition to my portfolio.’

‘What exactly do you do for a living?’ he asked.

Capping your water bottle, you fastened it to its holder. ‘Branding and marketing. I work at an agency now, but someday I want to start my own business, so I always take on projects on the side when I have time.’

‘And you didn’t even bring your own equipment?’ he teased.

You pouted. ‘C’mon, let me borrow yours. I won’t drop it, I promise.’

With a dramatic sigh, Jack relented, ‘You know I can’t say no to you, darlin’.’

Now, hours later, he clearly wishes that he did. Jumping onto his feet, he leans down and unceremoniously plucks the camera from your hands, prompting an indignant cry.

‘That’s it,’ he grunts. ‘I’m laying down the law. No more pictures of me today.’

You shrug, not bothering to look up as he walks away towards the saddlebags. ‘Joke’s on you, cowboy! I got more than enough for your Tinder profile and the ranch.’

At the unexpected click of the shutter, your head snaps up to see Jack grinning at you from behind the camera a couple of feet away. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’

‘Taking photos for your profile,’ he replies triumphantly.

You pull your hat down low over your face and grumble, ‘Stop it! I’m covered in sweat and dirt.’

He scoffs. ‘So am I! Didn’t stop you though, did it?’

Ugh. Does this insufferable man not understand that sweat and dirt only adds to his appeal?

You grouse, ‘And how are you going to be able to help with my profile? You’ve never even heard of the app.’

Jack crouches down to pack the camera securely in a saddlebag, peering at you over his shoulder. ‘I’m a man. Surely my opinion would count for something.’

Oh, he doesn’t need to tell you that. He’s all man. One whose very tight jeans are practically straining against his pert backside while he rearranges the packing on one knee.

Standing up, Jack whistles at the horses grazing nearby. He turns to you and says, ‘Come on, darlin’, no more clownin’ around on my watch. We got some ground to cover to get to our camp for tonight.’

You groan half-jokingly, climbing to your feet and grumble, ‘Yes, sir.’

You notice the way he stiffens. There’s a twitch in his neck as if he’s holding himself back from turning towards you, and his jaw shifts like he’s grinding his teeth. When you walk up behind him, he clears his throat deliberately and busies himself with the tack as the horses trot lazily back towards you.

Interesting.

You reach out to rub Scotch on the nose when he approaches, giving him half of the apple you saved for him from lunch. You keep an eye on Jack, your mind whirring, as you saddle up for the afternoon.

Turns out the cowboy wasn’t joking. It’s a seriously hard ride, with long stretches of cantering over flat ground. It’s as exhilarating as it is hard on your body - your calves and thighs are burning, your shoulders ache, and you start to actually worry if you’ll be able to carry on tomorrow. If you even survive this afternoon, that is.

You’re on what feels like the hundredth backbreaking canter streak of the day. Jack and Whiskey a safe four horse-lengths ahead, Bourbon following behind you and Scotch. The sun is veiled by clouds, but the heat is no less forgiving. You’re sweat-soaked to the bone, hair sticking to your forehead and the back of your neck. You’ve never been so desperate for a shower and a cold drink.

You see Jack stand up in his stirrups and turn around in his saddle to check on you. You must look like hell, because he takes mercy on you and holds up a hand to signal the end of the lope. When Scotch slows down to a walk next to Whiskey, he asks, barely winded, ‘You ok, darlin’?’

Panting for air, you reach desperately for your water. ‘Are you trying to kill me, cowboy? You remember what I said about the gym last night, right?’

He chuckles, taking a drink of water himself. ‘I’m sorry, I know I’m pushing you, but there’s somethin’ I want to show you before we lose the light.’

You swipe at a bead of sweat running down the side of your cheek with your clothed shoulder, too tired to sit up straight in the saddle anymore. You point a threatening finger at him. ‘It better be worth it, or I swear I’ll have your head.’

Jack gives you an encouraging pat on the back. ‘I promise it will be. Come on, darlin’, I know you can do it.’

Despite your exhaustion, some baser instinct in you can’t help but preen at his words. Damn your need for approval and praise from the lips of a handsome man.

It’s another hour or so on the road when you discern a drop in temperature, the sun starting its descent for the day, though the sky remains bright. Jack slows you down to an easy trot, craning his neck, as if searching for something. Distracted by an itch on your ankle, deep inside your boots, you don’t notice Whiskey coming to an abrupt halt in front of you.

‘Whoa, sorry,’ you apologise, gathering up the reins last-second to stop Scotch from running straight into the chestnut’s rump. ‘I wasn’t paying atten- ’

You trail off when you look up, hands frozen awkwardly in mid-air as all your motor functions grind to a stop.

You’re not sure how or where it came from - an enormous field of wildflowers in bloom stretches before you, as far as the eye can see.

‘Did I deliver on that promise, darlin’?’

Air rushes into your lungs when Jack’s words register, and only then do you realise you’ve been holding your breath. Robbed of your faculties, you answer with a mute nod.

Jack smiles broadly at your speechlessness. ‘Come on. Let’s take a closer look.’

Scotch follows when Jack nudges Whiskey down the small slope. The meadow parts like softly lapping waves around the horses’ knees, a riot of colour and scent. If it was earlier in the afternoon, you’re sure there would be a muted buzz of honey bees hard at work. It’s mostly still at this hour, other than the whistle of grass and leaves brushing the horses’ legs as you make your way deeper into the field.

Your eyes dart about, barely focusing long enough to recognise what’s in front of you - bluebells, woodland sage, verbena, daisies, foxglove - and far more that you can’t name off the top of your head. The sweet nectar is overwhelming, and when a breeze stirs, it washes over you like a gentle mist from a perfume bottle.

Slowly regaining your senses, a familiar sound catches your ear. Glancing to your left, Jack has his camera aimed at you as the horses walk slowly.

You grin, not caring that you’re a mess. Your knees brush when the horses drift into each other’s course. ‘Thanks for bringing me here, Jack.’

‘My pleasure,’ he tips his hat at you. ‘So - there’s a camp around three quarters of an hour’s ride away, but we can stay here tonight if you want to.’

Your chest swells excitedly at the prospect, but you demur, ‘Will it be too much hassle? We don’t have anything here.’

With a wave of his hand, Jack dismisses your doubts. ‘It’s just the two of us, it can be easily done. There’s a stream a short distance that way, which is all we need. I’ll take care of everything else.’

A grin breaks across your face. ‘If you’re sure it’s not too much trouble - I’d love to camp here tonight. Thank you.’

Jack nods. ‘Of course. Anythin’ for you, darlin’.’

You don't want to contemplate how you’ll ever go back to an existence where you don’t have cowboys with gorgeous brown eyes telling you things like that. And you suppose you don't have to - at least for a few more days.

‘Can I help with anything?’ you offer.

He shakes his head adamantly, one hand outstretched as if to physically stop you. ‘Absolutely not. Stay here with Scotch and Pinto, take a breather, stretch your legs - I’ll get everything ready.’

When Jack and Whiskey return half an hour later, having loaded up on water and firewood, he finds both horses untacked and brushed down. A smile tugs at his lips - of course you wouldn’t listen to him. The tack and saddlebags are neatly laid out, the cooking supplies already unpacked in preparation for dinner.

Scotch and Pinto are lying down, hooves tucked tidily under themselves, snacking on grass and half-dozing. You’re sitting cross-legged next to the palomino, braiding daisies into his white mane. You look up when you hear Jack approach.

‘I moved us further down so we don’t set fire to the field,’ you joke, pointing at the slightly barer patch of land.

‘Well done, darlin’,’ he replies and dismounts, giving Whiskey a big pat before quickly unsaddling him. Tipping his face to the sky, he remarks, ‘I think we’ll have quite a sunset tonight.’

Despite it only being the second day of the trip, you and Jack seem to have settled into a comfortable rhythm. He sets up the fire while you shower, and then you feed the horses - dry feed with apple and carrot bits for tonight - while Jack nips off for his.

He doesn’t protest when you help with dinner - corn chowder and jacket potatoes are on the menu this evening. While Jack preps the vegetables for the soup, you oil, season and wrap the potatoes in foil, planting them directly into the fire for a slow roasting.

At the first sign of the sky turning colours, you set up your phone on timelapse, propping it against your water bottle behind the two of you, with the horses and the campfire in-shot as the sun starts to sink. You don’t have to worry about battery life as the solar chargers are fully charged from abundant sunshine these couple of days, and there will be electricity at the Halfway House when you get there tomorrow.

At some point, both of you stop what you’re doing to watch the sunset. The sky is stained blood orange, the colour dripping from the horizon to stretch across the field of wildflowers until it is awash in red. A flock of birds cut across the cloudless horizon in a homeward formation, their caws echoing in the valley.

The digital click of the shutter pulls you out of your thoughts.

‘Jack,’ you berate him half-heartedly.

‘Come here, darlin’,’ he shuffles closer and turns the camera around so the front is pointed at you both. You can see your reflection in the lens - and he presses the shutter-release.

The chowder is delicious, as has been everything Jack has made so far on the trip. But after dinner, when the plates have been washed and the sleeping bags rolled out, belly full but slumber not yet come knocking, and Jack asks if you want a nightcap with a twinkle in his eyes - you decide that’s your favourite time of the day.

He puts a kettle on the fire, and pulls a tin of cocoa from a saddlebag. ‘You want a hot chocolate? We can make it Irish.’

You chuckle. ‘Sounds good, cowboy.’

Steaming mugs in hand, Jack carefully makes his way to your sleeping bag, the fire tracing his silhouette in bright orange. You take one, legs crossed and elbows on your knees, thanking him before taking a ginger taste.

A violent cough racks your frame, the potency taking you by surprise. ‘Jesus Christ - is this three-quarters whiskey?’

Jack cracks a roguish grin in your direction. ‘Maybe. But I bet you can take it, darlin’.’

Holy fuck.

Heat creeps up the back of your neck and spreads over the planes of your cheeks, and you duck behind your drink. Under the cover of night, in that gravelly Southern drawl, his words wield an unholy power.

Not ready to spar yet, you take a steadying inhale and a long sip, the alcohol burning on its way down. You grab the camera that’s been lying closeby all evening and say, ‘Let’s go over the photos I took today. I might even let you choose which ones to use for your profile.’

He snorts in jest, but shifts closer so that he can see the screen. ‘Sure, I believe you, darlin’.’

For such a good-looking man, Jack doesn’t seem to have a vain bone in his body. He is complimentary of your photography, stopping you when you want to zoom past the reel of your scenic shots. Instead, he takes the time to politely appreciate the composition, framing and lighting. But whenever one of him shows up, it’s he who wants to fast forward, uncomfortable with the attention of seeing himself on film.

When your drinks run low, Jack gets up to get more cocoa and hot water. You two are in the middle of an argument about the merits of (or according to him, the lack thereof) candid shots, after he vetoes one that you propose for Tinder.

‘Why that one?’ he disputes, collecting your mug. ‘I’m not even looking at the camera!’

‘That’s the whole point!’ you rebut. ‘It’s natural and in the moment. It’s a great photo of you!’

You ignore him as he grumbles while he mixes the cocoa. You click all the way through the reel, reaching the last photo of the day - the selfie of the two of you at sunset. Glancing up to make sure Jack is still occupied, you steal a moment to really study at the shot.

It’s a flattering take, the lighting and angle kind on you. You admire the way Jack’s eyes crinkle warmly at the corners, one side of his moustache tilted up with his smile, tidy teeth peeking out from behind that wicked mouth.

This damn cowboy.

Accidentally, your finger brushes a button on the dial, taking you to the top of the SD card. What comes on screen first appears innocuous enough - but when your gaze focuses, you freeze and your jaw drops.

Jack’s just poured a tall measure of whiskey into each mug when he notices you’ve fallen completely motionless, camera still in your hands. With a frown, he leans over to see why.

‘Jesus Christ!’ he swears loudly, leaping forward to snatch it away from you, nearly knocking over both drinks in the process. He just about tosses the machine away as if it burns him. ‘Shit, fuck, shit. Fuck!’

You haven’t heard him cuss much yet on the trip, and you’re not sure if that’s what triggers it, but suddenly you’re laughing so hard that your chest heaves and your lungs ache. Tears sting the corners of your eyes as you gasp for breath, what you saw on the screen seared into your memory.

It’s a photo Jack took of himself in what you assume is a bathroom mirror, his left hand holding the camera. Something about him is different, maybe his hair is a bit shorter, more slicked back. A flannel shirt hangs unbuttoned on his firm body, just like yesterday when he was undressing at the lake. It’s innocent enough up to this point.

Lower still, his belt with the now familiar flask buckle dangles undone, jeans shoved carelessly just past his pelvis. His large hand - which you’re now used to seeing deftly grasping the reins or resting on his thigh as he rides next to you - is wrapped around the base of what appears to be a very generously sized, very hard cock.

You just wish you’d been granted a few more seconds to peruse before Jack ripped the camera from you.

Finally, you wheeze, ‘Who takes nude pics on a DSLR?’

Jack runs a palm over his face and sighs. ‘You saw the state of my phone, the camera doesn’t work. The pictures were for my ex, she lived two states away and we didn’t see each other much. I thought I deleted them ages ago.’

You make grabby hands at the fresh hot chocolates, which he passes to you. You squeak, ‘I’m not drunk enough for this.’

Even in the dark, you can see the tips of his ears turning beet red, and you don't think you're imagining the insecurity in his tone as he mutters, ‘Sorry, that was embarrassin’.’

‘Why are you sorry? I didn’t see anything you should apologise for,’ you reply truthfully, swirling your drink, the hot steam warming your nose as you take a sip.

Jack peers at you with a bemused frown. ‘No?’

His gaze follows as you lick an errant drop of chocolate from the corner of your mouth. You add slyly, ‘I don’t see anything to be embarrassed about, either.’

‘Is that so?’ He hums thoughtfully, a self-assuredness squaring his broad shoulders as he leans towards you. ‘Does that mean you liked what you saw then, darlin’?’

It’s a loaded question. You give him a lopsided smile, and with more bravado than you feel, you quip, ‘I don’t know - I’ll have to take a closer look, cowboy.’

He holds your challenging stare when he knocks back a mouthful of his drink, and smacking his lips, he grins, ‘All you have to do is ask.’

Batting your eyelashes ironically, you half-joke, ‘Do I have to say please, too?’

Jack breathes out hard through his nostrils, a strangled laugh caught in his chest. He chides, ‘Behave, darlin’.’

And with two little words, he turns the tables on you and shoves you up a metaphorical wall. The shudder that ripples through your body at being told to behave by this cowboy doesn’t escape his keen observation, and his lips quirk in a cocksure manner.

Jack opens his mouth as if he’s about to say something, but he’s interrupted by a quick succession of pings from your phone, which has been silent since the start of the trip. The sound is alien in the quiet of the mountains.

Your brow wrinkles in confusion. ‘Uh - what’s happening?’

It might be wishful thinking on your part, but disappointment seems to flash across Jack’s features as you change the subject.

‘There’s a weather station nearby. Sometimes we get the splash off,’ he explains.

You give him an enquiring look. ‘You know what I’m going to do now?’

Jack sighs in resignation. ‘I won’t be able to get away with this Tinder business, will I?’

‘Don’t be so glum about it, cowboy, it’s fun,’ you wink. ‘First things first - do you have a Facebook account?’

Lying on your stomach, your pillow tucked under your chest and your socked feet up in the air behind you, you look like you’re settling in for the long haul. Jack rearranges himself accordingly, rolling up his sleeping bag and reclines into it like it was a beanbag. With a deep drag of his drink, he takes stock of the situation.

First, Champ tries to set him up with you.

And now, you’re trying to set him up with an online dating account.

If questioned a few moments ago, he would still have thought that he was the cause of your little show last night. Right now - he’s not so sure anymore.

He’d been on the cusp of sleep when he heard you - a whimper that would’ve passed him by if the fire had cackled, or if a breeze had rustled the leaves in the trees. But in that window of perfect silence, he heard you. It paralysed him, sending blood rushing everywhere but his head, and he was up for hours, until his erection was eventually forced to dissipate from literal exhaustion.

Today has been something of a struggle, but he has bouts of sleeplessness every now and then, and even when it gets really fucking bad - he copes. He knows for a fact that you haven’t noticed. Hell, even his own team can’t pick up on it unless it’s been three nights and he literally trips over his feet walking on the fourth morning.

On the upside, at least the fatigue has forced him to keep his head on whatever task is at hand, sparing no room for thoughts about what he heard in the dark. But when you said ‘yes, sir’ earlier with such casual nonchalance, and the way you so boldly met him blow for blow just now - it took him all he’s got to fucking physically hold it together.

He’s not sure how it’s gone from that to you setting him up on Tinder, and by extension, with other women - in so fervent a manner.

Has he been reading you wrong this whole time? He’s barely taken a break from flirting with you, and he knows he’s not imagining your reactions to him when he pushes you a bit harder - just so he can see your eyes widen and hear your breath hitch - for him.

Watching you type on your phone with gusto, shooting questions at him - what’s your email address? How old are you? Do you want to link your Tinder account to your Facebook? - he wonders if he's lost his touch without realising it.

It’s been a couple of years since he broke up with his ex-girlfriend. She was sweet but his heart wasn’t in it, and the long-distance didn’t help. It’s been the odd one night stand here and there since, and while he’s not one to brag, his record is pretty damn near perfect.

Not that there’s much competition in this neck of the woods - well, Tequila puts up a good fight if they’re on a night out together. But right now, he’s the only man for miles and miles, and somehow, he’s still losing.

So he tops up his mug (it’s mostly just whiskey now), and he drinks until you reach out and poke him on the knee, grinning from ear to ear. Jack bites the inside of his cheek and wishes you wouldn’t smile at him like that. Not when he can’t figure you out.

You wear the fireside glow so well, like you’ve always spent your days in the saddle, traversing the Wyoming hinterland, and ending your nights at the warmth of a campfire.

Like you belong here.

‘What do you think?’ you prompt him, tipping the screen towards him.

He takes your phone and studies it. It’s a photo of him that you took this morning, with his age and job listed on top of it in the bottom left corner. He shrugs. ‘I don’t know, you tell me. I have nothing to compare this to.’

Undaunted by his uninspired response, you swipe through enthusiastically, showing him the other uploads. ‘Look, I took some pictures from your Facebook page too. Trust me, you’ll be knee deep in pussy before you know it, cowboy.’

He chokes on his drink, which draws a chortle from you. He shakes his head, but he’s smiling. ‘Are you always so crass, darlin’?’

You salute him with your almost empty mug. ‘Only when nefarious cowboys spike my hot chocolate with way too much whiskey.’

He huffs a laugh. ‘One more or should we call it a night?’

‘We can’t go to bed yet, setting up your account is only step one. I still have to show you how to swipe right,’ you protest, but the screen abruptly goes blank when you tap on it. ‘Shit, the connection’s gone!’

‘Praise the Lord,’ Jack proclaims, turning his palms heavenward in relief. His knees creak when he gets up to add more wood to the fire. ‘What do you want to do now, then?’

You put your phone away reluctantly. ‘I don’t know. What do you usually do with guests?’

‘Depends,’ he grunts when he sits down, close to you. ‘If the Kingsman were here, we’d play poker and darts.’

‘I got to say I’m glad they’re not here, then,’ you say with a wrinkle of your nose. It’s getting colder, so you sit up and drape the cosy blanket across your shoulders. When the idea comes to mind, you almost leap up from your seat in excitement. ‘Oh I know! How about a game of never have I ever?’

Jack scoffs. ‘Are you fourteen?’

‘It’s a classic. Please? It’ll be fun,’ you needle, waving the now half-empty bottle at him. ‘We still have to finish this off.’

He pins you with a stern look. ‘We’ll get wasted.’

You shrug with a cheeky grin. ‘So? I’m on holiday, and we’re halfway there already.’

‘Just don’t blame me for your inevitable hangover tomorrow, darlin’,’ he replies in capitulation.

‘I’ll give you a get out of jail card,’ you assure him. Rubbing your hands together, you jump right into it. ‘Ok, I’ll start - never have I ever had a dog.’

Jack drinks, repositioning his long limbs so that he’s sat with one leg outstretched, and the other bent at the knee. He asks, ‘You’re not a dog person?’

‘I love dogs, just never had the space in the city,’ you answer. ‘I’m the designated dog sitter for all of my friends and neighbours though.’

Setting the bottle down between you, Jack continues, ‘Never have I ever had a cat.’

You drink and muse, ‘I miss having a cat - haven’t had one since I was a kid. Maybe I’ll look into adoption when I get home.’

Travel comes up next. You drink at his never have I ever been to Asia (you went backpacking all over for two months after graduation), and he drinks at your never have I ever been to Europe (he travelled to Greece for the Olympics when he worked as a groom for a short stint).

You trade several more benign questions until, with an impish grin and a rush of alcohol-induced adrenaline, you tilt your head to one side and change the direction of the game. ‘Never have I ever - sent nudes.’

‘That’s not fair!’ complains Jack as you giggle, thrusting the bottle towards him.

‘I’m the guest, I don’t have to play fair,’ you retort.

‘Two can play this game,’ he shoots back, narrowing his eyes playfully. ‘Never have I ever used Tinder.’

‘Well played, cowboy,’ you smirk, grabbing the whiskey from him and taking a sip. After a moment’s consideration, you divulge, ‘Never have I ever had a one night stand.’

His eyebrows reach for his hairline, his voice deep as he comments, ‘So you’re one of them good girls, huh?’

Teeth catching your bottom lip, your answer echoes so clearly between your ears that for a moment, you thought you’d said the words out loud.

I can be. For you.

‘Always been a relationship kinda girl,’ you admit, somewhat belatedly, as he takes a sip.

He smiles, then with a wriggle of his eyebrows, he fires his next shot. ‘Never have I ever - fancied a cowboy.’

Your mouth hangs open in bewilderment, your heart threatening to hammer its way out of the confines of the ribcage. Is he drunk?

Well, you both are.

He’s watching you, his posture loose and relaxed. There’s no deviousness in his gaze, not even the playful kind. If anything, he appears - genuinely curious?

You suppose you could lie, but… you don’t want to. Keeping your eyes on him, you pluck the whiskey from his grasp. You add high-handedly, ‘Just so you know, I’ve met a lot of cowboys before you. So many, you wouldn’t believe.’

A lazy smirk curls his lips as he watches you take a swig. ‘Sure, darlin’ - what with all the ranches you’ve been to.’

Dangling the bottle in front of his face in a challenge, you retaliate. ‘Never have I ever fancied a guest.’

Instead of reaching out with his fingers, Jack drags himself across the sleeping bag so he’s practically hovering over you to grab the whiskey. Echoing your words, he says, ‘Just so you know, I’ve met a lot of guests before you.’

You watch his Adam’s apple bob when he swallows. He’s so close you’re tempted to count the whiskers on his neatly trimmed beard.

‘It’s your turn, darlin’,’ rasps Jack, but you’re immobilsed by the brush of his calloused fingers against the tips of yours, planted on the sleeping bag.

You stammer, coming up blank. ‘Um - uh - never have I ever - ever -’

Jack gives you a crooked grin. ‘Need some help?’

Throat dry, you can only nod.

He leans in, his exhale hitting the shell of your ear, and he delivers the coup de grace. ‘Never have I ever touched myself thinking of said cowboy.’

Your eyes widen and you stop breathing. Oh fuck. He heard you. He knows.

Turns out you weren’t quiet enough after all.

And yet - you can’t bring yourself to be ashamed, not when he’s staring you with something that looks a lot like reverence.

You realise you haven’t addressed the gauntlet he’s thrown down at your feet. Bringing the whiskey to your lips, you confess with a wet gulp of whiskey, the liquid sloshing hollowly in the almost empty bottle when you place it down next to you.

The tension thrums between the two of you like some quantum disturbance, one that’s been building and ebbing for the last forty-eight hours. The air grows thick, his eyes dropping to your mouth the same time his rough palm moves to cover the back of your hand, startling you. Misjudging his proximity, your nose knocks into his cheek when you turn your head, and a quiet gasp slips past your lips when you feel his hot breath brush the hollow of your neck -

So caught up in the moment, it takes you three long seconds to realise that the two of you have suddenly broken apart, and three more for your head to grasp why.

The ringtone blaring from your phone is deafening in the tension-laden silence. Across the bright screen, your ex’s name flashes clearly.

Motherfucking cockblocking asshole.

Before you can unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth to protest - or ask him to please stay - Jack has gotten onto his feet with a rueful smile and a shake of his head. Scooping up his sleeping bag and tucking it under one strong arm, he reaches for a bottle of water that he filled up earlier and places it next to your pillow, knowing that you’ll need it in the morning.

Even in the shadows, you can discern his eyes sliding over your face. His whispered words barely reach you as he turns on his heels. ‘Good night, darlin’.’

You let the call ring out.

It’s still dark when you feel a hand grip your shoulder, pulling you out of a shallow slumber.

‘Jack?’ you croak, rubbing your eyes that are sticky with sleep. ‘Is something wrong?’

He shakes his head with a reassuring smile that you can barely see in the din. ‘No, I just wanted to show you somethin’. Put on your shoes and bring your blanket, darlin’, it’s cold.’

Even wrapped up in fleece, you huddle into yourself as you follow him. He leads you past the dying fire and snoozing horses, a thermos in one hand, the other tucked into the pocket of a battered thick denim jacket.

You stumble when your feet catch on knots in the grass, and Jack reaches out to steady you, his reflexes fast even in this ungodly hour.

When your sight slowly adjusts to the darkness, you see that you’re approaching what you presume is Jack’s sleeping bag on the ground. He nudges you gently towards it with a quiet, ‘Make yourself comfortable, darlin’.’

You do, hugging your knees to your chest, your icy fingertips trying to find warmth under the blanket. Jack settles down next to you, and noticing your shiver, he wraps his extra quilt around your shoulders.

‘Tea?’

‘Yes please.’

The thermos warms your hands as you hold it, hot steam hitting your face as you drink carefully so you don’t burn your tongue. You’re too groggy (and more than a bit hungover) to try to figure out what is going on, and Jack doesn’t enlighten you, happy to sit in the silence as you pass him the bottle. The tea burns a comforting trail down to your stomach, warming you from the inside.

You don’t have to wait long for what comes next.

It starts with the faintest of glows. The ghost of your breath misting in front of your face. The distant, backlit profile of the Bighorn. The outline of bush and flora, then the textures fill in as the light swells. And without warning, the dawn breaks, colour spilling across the field of wildflowers, like a light has been switched on.

A light fog hangs in the air, gently refracting the morning rays into an iridescent sheen. In every direction, the ground is carpeted by a sea of summer blooms. It looks like a page ripped straight out of a book that starts with the age-old refrain of once upon a time.

You turn to Jack. He’s watching you closely with a smile, hair sleep-mussed, the sunrise casting him in rose gold.

It might have been you. It might have been him. It might not matter in the grand scheme of things.

The next thing you know, your shoulders bump and your lips meet. A sigh catches in your throat when he takes your lower lip between his, dragging slowly and sweetly, the wet friction and the tickle of his moustache on your Cupid’s bow chasing a shiver down your spine.

When he pulls back, he traces the tip of his nose across your cheek before tucking it behind your ear, his arm closing in around your waist.

‘Happy birthday, darlin’.’

More notes: They're going to get to the Halfway House next chapter. Just FYI 👀 I've really made you guys wait for the smut for this one, I swear I didn't plan it this way, but here we are. In the meantime, I'm going to try not to psyche myself out because I haven't written any smut since Consent ended. But I'll worry about that later, for now, thank you for reading and for the wonderful feedback so far - comments and reblogs are so appreciated as always!

Horsey notes (optional reading): This part is a bit thin on horses so this is quite random. Horses love treats - carrots, apples and polo mints will all be devoured. Make sure the treats aren't cut too small to encourage horses to chew before they swallow. Carrots can be broken into 2 or 3 pieces, and should be fed horizontally instead of vertically, to encourage chewing. Apples can be quartered or halved. When feeding, stretch out your hand flat, don't curl up your fingers or you can accidentally get bitten!

#jack daniels x you #jack daniels fanfic #jack daniels x reader #jack whiskey daniels #jack daniels #jack daniels x f!reader #jack daniels x fem!reader #jack daniels au #kingsman golden circle #kingsman fanfiction

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27dragons · 4 months

Text

New Year Countdown: Dec 18

Every AU collection needs a coffeeshop AU, doesn't it? :D Have some Winteriron featuring barista!Tony and a rather flustered Bucky.

Dec 18 - Winteriron - Coffeeshop AU - Candycane

The instant Bucky glimpsed a dark fluff of hair behind the register, he jerked back from the coffeeshop door and plastered himself against the brick exterior wall.

Steve, who’d already reached for the door handle, paused and then stepped back. “Buck?”

“I can’t go in there!” Bucky gasped. “He’s working!”

“Ohhh, so I might actually get a chance to see this mysterious object of your fantasies?” Steve leaned to peer through the window, trying to get a glimpse.

“Steve!” Bucky yanked him back. “Don’t be so fucking obvious, oh my god!”

“Let’s go, I need coffee and I want to meet this guy!” Steve grabbed Bucky’s jacket and dragged him into the store by main force.

Bucky scrambled to act casual as Steve opened the door and the shop bell rang. Luckily, there was a bit of a line, so Tony didn’t spot him right away. He had a few seconds to shake off Steve’s hold and run his fingers through his hair.

Then he looked at Tony and nearly combusted on the spot. Tony was wearing a skin-tight white tee under his red barista’s apron, the fabric clinging to shoulders and arms that were clearly not the result of slinging coffee. There was some kind of ridiculous holiday-themed hair clip tucked into his curls, his eyes were bright and shining, and he was sucking on a candy cane.

He was sucking on the candy cane hard, keeping it in his mouth as he used his hands to scrawl an order on the side of a coffee cup and then rang up the order. The end of the cane wiggled a little bit as Tony’s mouth and tongue moved, and Bucky watched in helpless fascination.

And then the customer in front of them moved and they were standing at the counter. Bucky didn’t think it was just his imagination that Tony’s smile got even brighter.

Tony pulled the candy cane from his mouth and whirled it around one finger as he said, “Hey, it’s my favorite snowflake! And you brought a friend!” He made a show of examining Steve. “Or is it a date?”

“I. No. He. I. That--” Bucky stammered.

“No, not a date,” Steve said. Thank god for Steve.

Then Steve continued, “Of the two of us, I think Bucky would rather date you.” Oh god, Steve sucked.

Bucky could feel his face flaming as he tried to stamp on Steve’s foot. “Christ’s cup, Steve, ain’t you got even a little bit of manners? You can’t just chat someone up when they’re working!”

“I wasn’t chatting him up,” Steve pointed out, nimbly dodging Bucky’s stamping. “I was just saying--”

“Please ignore him,” Bucky pleaded Tony. “He got punched in the head one too many times.”

Tony was laughing, and it was the most musical thing Bucky had ever heard. “Well, now I don’t feel so bad,” he said.

“I, what?”

Tony winked at him. “I’ve been using all my best moves on you, hot stuff, and you haven’t bitten even once. But if it’s a matter of being polite...” He reached over and grabbed the back of the other barista’s shirt, dragging her over to the register.

“Tony!” she squawked, then glanced at Bucky and sighed. “Fine, just this once.” She smiled smoothly at Steve. “Can I take your order, sir?”

Tony pulled the apron off his head and flung it toward a rack of hooks. It missed, but Tony ignored it, ducking around the end of the bar. Two long strides brought him right to Bucky’s side. “I’m on break now,” he said pointedly. “Not working at all.” And then he deliberately licked the length of the candy cane before sticking it back into his mouth and raising his eyebrows at Bucky, expectant.

Bucky’s mouth opened. Closed. “Uh.”

Steve and the other barista were both leaning on the counter, not doing a very good job of suppressing their laughter.

Jerks.

“Would you like?” Bucky tried. Wait, that was incomplete. “To go out?” Better.

Tony grinned around the candy cane. “With you?”

Bucky’s blush wasn’t going to be going away anytime soon, clearly. “Uh. Yes. Please.”

“I’d love to!” Tony chirped, and took another lick of his candy cane. “I’m off work at four, pick me up here?”

“Cane-- I mean, can do,” Bucky managed.

#my writing #countdown to 2024 #winteriron #coffeeshop au

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cherry-cola-on-ice · 2 years

Text

Candy Canes

18+ ( back on that horny shit) if it's like this it's a memory Female pronouns and genitals used, so forewarning !

The candy left a trail of sticky, wet, red liquid against the skin of your breast. Your body shook watching the man above, his eyes glowing in delight. Billy was muttering nonsensical words under his breath.

The only words that you could understand was "Mine...Pretty Piggy."

You whimpered as the candy cane met your shaking thighs, dangerously close to your mound. Billy whimpered back, rather he was genuine or mocking you, your brain was too muddled to decide.

Billy Lenz, the moaner, the man who had been living in the dorms attic. Honestly, you had thought the calls were a dumb frat house prank. You wouldn't have put it past some of the guys to think it'd be hysterical.

Of course, you hadn't been around for awhile and had recently been subjected to the moaner's calls. It had only been a few months since your first interaction with the man on the phone.

RING! RING!

You glanced over to the phone and nervously stood up to answer it. You already knew who was on the other end, the other girls had warned you.

The moaner. You were bombarded with stories about the man when you walked in the door, having been a vacation. Claire was appalled by his words, Jess just looked tired. And Barb being Barb, she instigated the moaner sometimes.

Speaking of Barb "C'mon, Y/n. It's a right of passage."

You rolled your eyes and picked up the receiver "Look, sir, I don't know who you are and why you chose us, but-"

"Ah~ Pretty new piggy! I-is it juicy, piggy? Is it soft? Let me lick it, p-please? "

Your eyes widened "Sir, p-please-"

A sinful moan flooded your ear and, if you were honest, it went straight to your core. The man stuttered "It's s-so soft, isn't it? S-soft and w-warm. Soft p-piggy c-cunt!"

Your cheeks warmed and before you could stop yourself, a soft whimper came out of your mouth. Luckily Barb hadn't heard you.

But unfortunately, he did.

The line went silent, before the moaner hung up completely. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. Barb came out of the kitchen, raising her eyebrow "That the moaner? Creepy little perv, ain't he?"

Billy's tongue against your thighs broke you from your memories. He looked up at you, his grin wide "Y-you want me to lick it? You always did, right? "

His tounge dragged closer to your lower lips "Billy wants it. Billy craves it."

You threaded your hands through his hair, tugging on the strands "Don't tease me, Billy. "

Billy whimpered against your skin, his hips rocking against the bed "Billy wants you. Pretty P-piggy. Pretty Y/n."

His tongue darted out, making brief contact with your slit. Your hips bucked up, craving more already. Billy laughed "Dirty girl. Messy girl. Dirty Y/n with her messy little cunt. My messy little cunt. "

Without out warning, Billy's mouth latched around your clit, sucking on the sensitive nub. You whimpered, pulling his face closer to you. Billy let go of the throbbing nub, instead traveling down.

His own thrusts against the mattress matched the ones his tongue did as it went in and out of your hole.

He slipped a finger in your pussy, his tongue coming back up to your clit. His eyes watery, he looked back up at you " Y/n, so pretty. You taste good, like candy. Candy canes. "

Fingers still pumping inside you, he pushed himself up, licking the trail his candy left earlier. He curled his fingers up, hitting the spongey spot inside of you. Your hand shook as it grasped his wrist "Oh, f-fuck! Billy, please don't stop. Don't stop!"

Billy increased the speed of his fingers "P-Please, piggy. Give it to me. Come on my hand. Messy c-cunt. Billy's cunt. Gonna slup, slup your cum. Pretty piggy."

He lowered his head, bringing a nipple into his mouth. You saw stars, a blinding white light. Your thighs trembled and your heart hammered in your chest.

"B-Billy~ Oh my fuuuuu-ck."

He released your nipple with a pop, going down even further. His lips closed around your clit again, before meeting his fingers. Frantically, he began humping the mattress again.

A coil within you snapped and you came hard against his face. Billy giggled, fingers still moving inside of your pussy, clenching around his fingers. Billy scooped up some of your juices with his tongue, groaning "Pretty Y/N. Always t-taste so good!"

He removed his fingers from your pussy, watching in amazement as his hand came up soaked. In your euphoric lust muddled haze, you could make out a large wet spot on the crotch of Billy's pants. You shakily sighed "B-billy, I would've helped you. "

Billy looked down and looked a little ashamed "Billy didn't mean to. Billy- uh I like it when you come..."

You gave him a smile, pulling his face up to meet you. Your lips peppered kisses over his warm skin, relishing in his pleased sighs. Billy layed down next to you and you sat in a satisfied silence. You loved Billy, the good and bad.

But you would be lying if you said you didn't love his moments of clarity.

"Pretty p-piggy. Billy wants to f-fuck. Fuck your ass. Soft piggy ass."

And he's back.

#billy lenz x reader #black christmas 1974 #slashers x reader #slasher x reader #the moaner #billy lenz x y/n #fem!reader #Billy Lenz x Fem!Reader

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mydetheturk · 5 months

Note

shy kiss please!

This is very very late but!!! Kissies from Razlo!! (his big emotions also got away from me a little but he's just so !!!)

Razlo paces back and forth, nibbling on a nail. He's stuck in a fierce internal debate with Livio.

Well she ain’t gonna kill you, Livio mutters. Razlo gets the impression that were Livio the one piloting right now, he'd be sitting in a chair with his head tipped back, whole form slouching.

Razlo paces a bit faster.

“What if she just, like, stabs us with her cane?” Razlo blurts out. Why is he nervous??? It's not like Elendira hasn't impaled him before – it's not like he doesn't dream about it some nights, waking up in charge, skin tingling, the phantom feeling of yarz long nails embedded in his lungs.

Raz.

“Shut! Up! Livio!” Razlo squawks. “Quiet time! Go! Go be quiet in our head somewhere!”

Livio laughs at him before dropping into the cracks and crevasses of their mind. Jerk face.

Razlo's not nervous, nope. Not at all.

His hands are just shaky and his palms sweaty and his heart keeps fluttering over the fact that Elendira the Crimsonnail, coolest, most badass, angriest woman Razlo's ever met, kissed him!!!!

Him!

His loud, shouty face! On the lips!!!!!

And now he kind of wants to kiss her again!

Razlo buries his face in his hands and makes a noise like a deflating thomas. He can't be a coward about this. He can't! She's just. She's just. She's so pretty, and a little delicate and soft, and throws her head back when she laughs, and touches him so, so softly that it makes Razlo want to fucking melt into a little puddle of Tri-Punisher.

He's gonna die. He's gonna die and leave Livio permanently in charge and all of his hard work keeping them alive will go down the drain cause Razlo has died of “This woman who has actively tried to kill me is too damn hot and I want to hold her hand.”

Oh fuck he wants to hold her hand.

Razlo decides that pacing the tiny room back and forth is not helping his state of whatever and starts making laps around the Ship. He knows when and where Elendira has what the doctor assigned to her calls “physical therapy so you don't lose your internal goddamn organs” and Elendira calls “punishment from an old bastard for living.”

(Razlo won't admit it, but he likes the cranky old doctor, someone the lady in charge pulled out of cold storage after the fucked up puppet guy had attacked this place. Turns out the old doc had been a surgeon back in the day, back Before, and was used to cranky paramilitary groups. Where the fuck the lady in charge found this guy, Razlo has NO fucking clue.)

Razlo tries not to pass the room where Elendira's going through more exercises and stretches more than once or twice or maybe three times. Livio's gonna laugh so hard at him when he finds out and then Razlo's going to have to kick his ass and then where will they be? Back to square one again and healing from a self inflicted black eye????

Razlo finds himself right outside the door when Elendira comes out, gritting her teeth against the pain, a little sweaty and holding onto her cane so hard her knuckles have gone white.

Impulse kicks in.

Razlo places his hand over Elendira's, cupping her hand against the cane.

“Razlo?” she says warily, eyes flowing from where Razlo is touching her hand and up his arm to stare at his face.

Do it now, you idiot, before you chicken out!

Razlo carefully – oh so very, very carefully – cups Elendira's cheek with his hand and gently – stay gentle!!! – tips up her face and kisses Elendira.

She makes a slight, startled noise. But she brings up her other hand and rolls up slightly on the balls of her feet and cups the back of his neck and kisses Razlo back.

She kisses back!!!!

Razlo might explode! Honestly!!!!

He startles and Elendira startles and both of them come back swinging when the doctor (who Razlo might hate a little now (no he doesn't)) clears his throat and raises his eyebrow. His single blue eye crinkles with amusement, but Razlo flushes and pulls back from Elendira and he bolts.

Kissed the pretty lady – who kissed back!!!!! Razlo's gonna Die Happy, sorry Livio!!! – and now he's gotta go! Got things to do!

If Razlo has to make some things up to do so he can do them and hide until either Livio rises again or his face stops burning, he's gonna do it. Maybe laundry! He can figure out laundry.

Razlo only pauses briefly when Elendira makes an affronted noise at something the doctor says. He's far enough away that they're hard to hear, but he's tuned to her now. Like those flora that follow the suns.

Razlo can’t turn back now, nope. He flushes anew and runs. He's not a coward, he just has a sort of working sense of self preservation and he recognizes that noise Elendira made. He can’t stay because if he stays he's gonna melt and he'll have to explain to Livio why they're dead and it'll be because Razlo thinks Elendira is Too Pretty and he died of exposure.

Like those flora that follow the suns. They'd definitely die of exposure if they weren't in the safety of the Ship's gardens.

Razlo's going to go re-clean Livio's Double Fangs and his Punisher and maybe Elendira's crossbow until he's got his head back on again. It probably won't work. It definitely won't work. But holy hell is he going to pretend it works until he's not beet red anymore.

(Kissed him back! He's gonna die! Of Happy!!!!)

#trigun #trimax #razlo the tri punisher of death #elendira the crimsonnail #livio the double fang #crimsontrip #kissies for razlo agenda #post trimax #elendira lives fics #tbh all my kissies for razlo fics are elendira lives fics #myde writes

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jeonggukookies · 9 months

Text

better || eight

summary: you finally talk to jimin at the charity ball

word count: 1859

genre: bestfriend!jimin, college!au, bestfriends to lovers!au - fluff/angst

For the first time in years, Christmas was something you were looking forward to, and everyone was surprised to see you participating in the off-key caroling of Christmas songs with everyone. Normally, you would watch everyone decorate the tree as you sneak into the kitchen, eating the Christmas theme cookies, leaving none for Santa.

It was the first Christmas you would have with your father and Taehyung’s family ever since the passing of your mother. Though, your father still wanted to honor your mother, by hosting a charity ball on Christmas Eve, inviting everyone to spread Christmas cheer to each other.

People were free to donate gifts that would be given to the children at the orphanage and hospitals, and there was money being raised through some local performances which included Hobi’s dancing, Joon’s rapping, Yoongi’s piano solo, Jeongguk’s boxing, Taehyung’s stand up comedy and more. Jin helped the caterers by baking the peppermint cookies and some truffles. You had invited all their friends and families, bringing everyone you knew.

“Are you not doing anything?" Jin asked, standing next to up as you went to the bar to order some water. Unlike everyone else who was wearing a regular suit, Jin was wearing a black tuxedo with a bowtie that had candy canes on it. “Are we going to see you sing?”

“God no.” You laughed, grabbing the water from the counter. “If I did, we would not make any money for the kids.”

“I keep telling her that it is a shame that we do not get to hear her vocals tonight,” Taehyung joked, coming next to you. Your cousin was wearing a white suit with a glass of white wine in left his hand, trying to relax his nerves before his performance. His hair was slick back, looking like his father.

“Hey,” Tiffany greeted with a fake smile, not letting her mouth snap into a straight light. “I don’t mean to be the bearer of bad news, but did you guys invite Jimin?”

The smile on your face quickly faded, thinking you would have more time before you would have to see your best friend again.

“My parents might have because they obviously don’t know..” Taehyung’s voice trailed off.

“It’s okay,” you assured him, shrugging. “This is my first Christmas with my dad, and I am not going to let him or my feelings ruin that.”

“Well, how are you feeling?” Tiffany asked, a concerned look all over her face.

There were two words to describe everything happening all at once: confusing and overwhelming.

For a couple weeks, you had been basically grieving over the loss of your best friend, thinking he did not love you back, and that this whole relationship was one-sided. You gave yourself the time and distance from Jimin just so you weren’t reminded how he rested his head on yours when he wrapped his arms around you.

But after Jimin’s confession, there had been no time to process everything. It was the anniversary of your mother’s passing, and you were starting to rebuild a relationship with your father. You were distracted, and you wanted to keep it that way. You didn’t want to be alone in your thoughts, thinking about what you should do about the situation. “Fine.”

“You’re fine?” Taehyung’s eyebrow quirked up. He knows that you don’t show emotions besides the times you had grieved over your mother. But honestly, your cousin knew that if you severed your friendship with Jimin, it would be as big of a loss. “That’s it?”

You wanted to be fine.

It should not be a problem that you and your best friend have feelings for each other. The story could simply end happily ever after at that point. But you couldn’t understand how the boy that watched your mom’s favorite movie with you every year, lied about his feelings. How could he lie to you, knowing how much pain it caused? Why couldn’t he just pick you from the beginning? Did you really go through his mind when he chose someone else? Why now?

“Stop overthinking, you’re breaking your own heart,” Taehyung reminded you quietly, not letting anyone around you hear his comment. Even now at a complicated time, he was protecting your ego and taking care of you while being unbiased, and you were sure he did the same to Jimin. “Let’s get ready before the show starts.”

_____________

“Since it is running a little late, we are going to have Yoongi perform his sonatas. In the meantime, as we wrap up, we will be doing the gift exchange. Hopefully, you all drew and made your customized Christmas cards because those are important.” Your father laughs into the microphone as the audience gape at his announcement. “You all were given a number in the beginning, and you must find your missing match to exchange gifts and cards.”

“What number are you?” Tiffany asked, holding the number 57 in her right hand. In the background, you can hear Yoongi take a deep breath before starting, playing softly. “I hope it is not some loser like Jimin.”

“Tiffany!” You scolded, holding back a laugh. “You got to admit it that was funny,” Jin said causing Tiffany to nod her head in agreement. “I think Y/N’s Dad made sure our gifts and cards were going to be exchanged for the kids.”

“Where did you hear that?” Taehyung asked with a questionable look on his face, slightly raising one brow over the other. He looked down at his homemade card. It was a folded red paper with the front page having drawn an elf with green scribbly colored clothes with a text bubble with ‘Ho Ho Ho.’ Next to the elf, there was a poorly drawn old man which you assumed to be Santa, and the question, ‘Who are you calling a Ho?’ is above Santa’s red cap in a blue text bubble.

“You cannot give that to a kid.” You laughed and held up your simple white card to him that had a string of red and green Christmas ornaments with the text ‘Let’s hang at Christmas!’

“I think it will be fine,” he stated with a small look of worry on his face. “I have the number 5.”

“I have the number 7,” Jin and Hobi said simultaneously, then exchanging looks of excitement.

The two friends quickly exchanged boxes and cards, excited to see what had been inside the gift.

“Tae!” Taehyung’s younger sister screamed across the room loudly, letting everyone know who she was looking for. “Can you and Unnie look at the family group chat?!”

Looking over your shoulder, you see Taehyung pulling out his phone from the right back pocket of his pants. He unlocked his phone, clicking on his latest text notification.

[mom]: text us your number

[dad]: 7

“Oh you have the same number as my dad,” Tae mentioned to Tiffany. “They’re in the back somewhere.”

[brother]: 95

[sister]: 23

Your cousin texted your numbers to your family members. Right away, your aunt sent a reply.

[mom]: oh y/n, jimin has the same number as you! he just told us a couple of minutes ago that he was going to find you two!!

“There’s no fucking way, right?” You weren’t sure who Taehyung was asking. “Dude, the world must be against you or something.”

Tiffany flicked Tae’s head, making him wince and look at Tiffany with a confused look. She gave him an angry death glare. With his voice shaking, he said, “You know, Cousin, we can switch numbers.”

“Let’s be real, your mom probably somehow told him that me and him have the same number already.” You sighed. “There’s no use.”

You forced a smile, walking away, wanting to find your father before you had to exchange gifts. With a quick glance at the ballroom, you couldn’t find your father in the crowd of people up and rushing to others, trying to find their gifts. You get on the tip of your heels to get a better look, not wanting to go through the crowd and be accidentally pushed.

Across the room, Jimin was there, holding a white box in his hands, already staring at you with his dark brown eyes. Your heart dropped a bit, wondering how was it possible that the two of you would always find each other in a room full of strangers and chaotic noise.

The music stopped playing, and you could finally hear your cousin calling out your name.

“Wait.” Tiffany abruptly said. You knew they were behind you, but you didn’t dare look back. Without looking, you knew Tiffany was holding Taehyung’s wrist back, already seeing what was happening. “It’s the eye sex conversation talk again.”

Jimin took the first move, taking steps forward to go to you, not taking his eyes off yours. He was looking at you as if you were the only thing that mattered when the whole world was on fire. He was looking at you the way he always did, but more intensely.

When he’s finally in front of you, he released a sigh of relief, slightly giggling. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you whispered, not believing what was happening.

“I asked your father for his permission, and now I just really need yours.” He handed the box in front of you. “Open it.”

Taking the lid off, there was a soft fleece blanket, a blanket patterned with the animals from the Lorax. You knew he was waiting for you to look back at him, but you stared down at the box. The words how, why, what, and oh wanted to come out, but no sound came out when you parted your lips.

“When I said ‘just not like that,’ it was first to Taehyung’s mom when we were watching the movie and you were sleeping underneath the blanket,” he explained. “I asked your father to get the same number as you, to show you that I don’t want it to be like that. I want to be with you any day watching your mom’s favorite movie under the soft blankets, reminding you that you aren’t alone and that your mother isn’t forgotten.”

You looked up back at him. Tears were forming in his alluring eyes. You hold back a smile, wanting to laugh at the irony. He was looking at you the same way you looked at him the day he decided not to study abroad.

“Hurting you was the worst thing I did.”

You stood there frozen, wanting to say something, but you knew your words would come out incoherent, barely intelligible.

“You don’t have to say anything.” But Jimin read you like his favorite book, knowing every single line, reciting them out loud, letting the words live in his head rent-free. “I understand the trees.” He paused. “If you had known it was going to be me, would you still have made that card so friend-zoney?”

And there, you wrapped your arms around him, knowing you would never lose him ever again.

Perhaps the heartbreak of losing your mom could not be healed with time, but with the love of your life.

___

a/n: i finally graduated!!!!

#better #jimin fanfic #bts fanfic #park jimin scenarios #jimin fluff #jimin angst #jimin imagine #bts scenarios #jimin scenario #bangtanwriters-net #park jimin

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deserteye · 1 year

Text

CHAPTER THREE ;; Tall & Blonde

YOUR P.O.V.

After I shook Bill's hand, I could feel myself being pulled awake as my body lifted up and I gasped for air. The triangle seemed to fly out of the dream and float in mid-air for a moment before Bill's form grew muscle over the triangle, and it changed from a triangle to more of a human form.

His body grew a torso, hips, and a head, and he slowly floated to the ground, now a tall, around 6'0, golden blonde male with a yellow vest, white button up with a black bowtie and pants, accompanied by a matching yellow jacket with a long tail. He smiled, an upside-down black triangle eyepatch forming over his right eye.

"That's better! If I'm gonna be in the human realm, I might as well blend in!"

He smirked and laughed, swinging his cane in his right hand. I picked myself up and wiped the dirt off my pants and sweater.

"Yeah.. I guess that makes sense."

I mumbled, avoiding looking at him.

"Hey! It's rude not to look at the person you're talking to!"

He scolded, tapping my shoulder with his cane, causing me to jump.

"S-Sorry! I'm not the best at eye contact.."

I mumbled again, making eye contact with him. He laughs and smiles.

"Well common, back to your cabin."

He hums, walking in the direction of my cabin.

"Wh- Hey! How do you know I live in a cabin?"

I asked, jumping to keep up with the taller male.

"Haha, I know everything about everyone, kid!"

He laughed, throwing his cane up as it disappeared and he walked with his hands behind his back, his chest out.

"Oh- Okay.. What do you know about, Dipper and Mabel Pines..?"

I asked, deciding to test his knowledge and just picking the first names that came to my head, being Mabel and Dipper.

"Ugh.. Don't even mention Pinetree and Shooting Star around me. It's their fault I even needed a second chance, if it weren't for them, Point Dexter, and Shriner I would be ruling this dimension with an iron fist!"

Bill growled and rambled, my eyebrow raised, looking at him with confusion, causing his eyes to roll.

"It's a whole thing, I'll explain the Zodiac to you later."

"O-kay.."

I mumbled, looking back down at the ground, feeling the awkward silence settle in. Even after I looked at the ground, I could feel Bill staring at me, studying me.

"D-Do you need something-?"

I asked after gaining enough courage to ask him.

"No. I'm just trying to figure out how I never found you until now."

He responded, moving to look in front of us.

"What's that supposed to mean-?"

I asked, looking up at him.

"Well, you should know that your entire family is cursed because of Miss Sphinx's and mine battle back, maybe 5000 years ago or so?"

He mumbled, calculating in his head.

"Curse- 5000 years?!"

I asked in surprise.

"Yes, yes. That birthmark of yours is a curse I gave your family so I could easily find you. Plenty of humans have some sort of secret godly power they're gifted from their ancestors that they can never harness, but none have that birthmark. Besides your family."

He hummed, explaining everything but the 5000 years bit.

"I- Oh.. That's probably because my parents kinda, self-isolated me from the rest of the world. It's why I can't really make eye contact-?"

I laughed nervously, feeling like I was trauma-dumping onto this guy. And 5000 years?? God, how old was this guy??

"Ah, that would make sense!"

He hummed, twirling his hand and summoning his cane, as he started walking faster as we neared closer to my cabin.

~TIMESKIP~

DIPPER'S P.O.V.

We were abruptly woken up at around 3 AM by Great Uncle Ford slamming our door open. I flew up from the sound, while Mabel tiredly lifted herself up, rubbing her eyes. Ford was breathing heavily, fear in his eyes.

"He's back."

Mabel and I were up and dressed, standing in the kitchen with Ford and Stan, Stan sitting at the dining while Ford was pacing.

"What do you mean he's back?"

I asked, sounding angry when really I was terrified.

"But, we defeated him. With Stan, and the memory gun-"

Mabel defended, gesturing to Stan with a stuffed unicorn in her one of her arms.

"Yes, but when Stan regained his memory, the possibility of Bill returning came as well. With the statue, we were sure it wasn't possible-"

Ford explained stammering and gesturing his words with his hands.

"Wait, what statue?"

I asked, Mabel and I were both confused.

"I thought you said you'd tell them, Stan."

Ford asked in a more confused and tired tone than the serious and angered tone he was intending.

"You really were going to rely on my memory when I just recovered from amnesia?"

Stan defended, throwing his hand in defense while the other held his forehead.

"Before Stan and I went to go on our ocean hunt, we stopped by the place where Bill's castle came from, and, his body was a stone statue, his hand still out to take Stan's."

Ford explained, stopping to stand in front of us. Mabel and I looked at each other before looking at Ford.

"How do we even know Bill's back? What told you-"

Mabel asked before Stan cut her off.

"I had a dream. Or, more like a nightmare. All of my memories from the Weirdmagedon came back, and then Bill rose from his statue and, turned into a human."

Stan explained, holding a cup of coffee in his hand.

"He can do that-?"

"He can do anything, Mabel. Turning into a human doesn't sound like him though. Someone must have made a deal with him. But what kind of deal would prompt him to make a human form?"

Stan explained, before asking himself, he sighed and pushed the hair out of his forehead.

"We should get some rest, and then gather the rest of the Zodiacs for a meeting tomorrow."

"Shouldn't we check the statue first-? Just to make sure it wasn't a nightmare."

I mentioned, and Ford nodded.

"Yes, good idea Dipper. Is everyone still in town?"

"I think Pacifica moved to California, and Robbie and Gideon moved out of town."

I added.

"We'll call them tomorrow if the statue is gone, hopefully, they aren't too far out of town."

Ford sighed, holding his head and placing his hand on the table.

"Go back to bed kids, we're gonna be up for a minute."

Stan ordered, earning a nod from Mabel and I, as we walked back upstairs to the attic, tucking ourselves back in bed.

"Do you think.. That Y/N Sphinx has anything to do with this?"

Mabel asked, holding his unicorn plush close to her chest, Waddles curled up next to her.

"What makes you think that?"

I ask, staring at the ceiling before turning my head to look at her.

"Well, during Weirdmagedon, we didn't see them at all. Even though it was like, almost a week long. Everyone else doesn't even talk about Bill Cipher.. Maybe they made a deal not knowing what he did.."

She explained her theory, and I looked back up at the ceiling.

"That's.. Actually a good point."

I hummed.

"So, maybe?"

She asked.

"Maybe. Let's bring it up to Stan and Ford tomorrow, okay?"

I added, turning to face her.

"Hm, good plan."

She agreed, turning to look at me as well.

"Goodnight Mabel."

"Night Dipping Sauce."

· · ─────── ·⃤ ─────── · ·

Next Chapter | CHAPTER TWO ;; That Old Statue

Last Chapter | CHAPTER FOUR ;; Knowledge from a Demon

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may-the-best-wilson-win · 1 year

Text

Gals, guys and non-binary pals:

The Bracket for the Best Wilson Competition is here:

I'll make the first round of polls as soon as possible :)

The competitors:

Wilson in "All In"

Wilson on speed

Wilson in the McGill sweatshirt

Window Wilson

Wilson proposing to House

Wilson doing the white dad 50 bucks dance

Season 1 Wilson

Wilson the authoritative oncologist

Wilson wearing the reindeer hat

Wilson holding the sad cat

Wison in the yellow s1 scrubs

Wilson pranking House back by filing his cane

Leather Jacket Wilson

Worst wet t-shirt contest ever Wilson

Wilson stealing money from the cash register

Kyle

Wilson holding House's guitar hostage

Hallucination Wilson in "No Reason"

C-word Wilson

Wilson punching House in the face

Pilot episode Wilson

Green shirt Wilson

Milkman Wilson

Gay dad dream Wilson

Wilson in jeans and a grey hoodie

Wilson at the furniture store

Wilson who bought a waterbed

Wilson trying to sleep in while house plays "Faith"

Wilson doing the little confused hurt eyebrow thing

Be not afraid Wilson

Wilson caught in a net

Wilson from "Birthmarks"

Wilson in "Family"

Wilson buying an organ for House

Wilson making pizza with House

Wilson saying "I also have kind eyes"

God James Wilson in the MRI booth

Chicken bet Wilson

Wilson's face after cuddy tells him he needs to do double House's clinic hours (in "whatever it takes")

Season 8 Wilson

Wilson with the stuffed duck

Wilson in the green tie

#polls #poll #house md #james wilson #robert sean leonard

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presidentcircles-assistant · 4 months

Text

local ray of sunshine with her mother who Will stab you

[ID: A digital drawing of two original Flatland characters, Oblisi and R. Line, standing next to each other on a light grey background.

R. Line is a tall, humanoid character with dark grey skin, and where her head would be is a long curved line that ends in a point. Halfway up the line is an eye with a dark grey pupil, and above it is an eyebrow drawn in a furrowed expression.

She is wearing a long cream dress with long sleeves, grey triangles on the shoulders, and a dark grey cloth wrapped around the waist. She is wearing a yellow sun shaped-pendant. She has sharp, clawed hands, which are resting at her sides.

Oblisi is a short, grey humanoid character, and where her head would be is a long curved line that ends in a point. Halfway up the line is an eye with a light grey pupil, pulled upwards in a smiling expression. Above it is a dark grey eyebrow raised upwards.

She is wearing a long, white dress, with a dark grey triangle coming from the hem, and a dark grey cloth wrapped around her waist from which two loose pieces of fabric hang at her sides. She’s wearing a necklace that has two brown circles, a larger one on top attached by a black string to a smaller circle on the bottom. In her right hand, she holds a white cane. Her left hand is held out in front of her.

End ID.]

meme under the cut

i always think it’s extremely funny how Oblisi was walking with R. Line when they stumbled upon Vincent. imagine finding a homeless guy and your mother immediately tries to kill him

[ID: A digital black and white drawing of two original Flatland characters, R. Line and Oblisi.

R. Line is looking downwards, with a furrowed eyebrow. To her left is a text bubble with black text that reads, “I think we’re going to have to kill this guy, Oblisi.”

Oblisi is looking forwards with her eyebrow drawn in a concerned expression. To her right is a text bubble with black text that reads, “Damn.”

End ID.]

#flatland #mostly just a redraw to see how i could reimagine their designs #i think i should be okay with just giving their names in the second ID since i already described them in the first #let me know if i should change it tho #r line #oblisi

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tyo-mimt · 4 months

Text

16/36. @tmnt-event-blog

Absolutely no one is being normal here.

It started off with a joke. It always did. And then it escalated. Because it always did.

Cassandra walked into the lair. Leo, Donnie and Mikey were there, occupying the booth couch. Instead of her usual attire, she wore a tacky green sweater with crudely-knit reindeer and the world's largest grin.

"Good evening, gentlemen." The calm phrasing should've been the first indication that something was very wrong.

"Yo."

"Good evening, Cassandra."

"Noticing something different about today?"

Leo looked up from the comic he was reading, placing his chin on the back of his palm. He offered an obviously incorrect guess, "New haircut?"

"Right on the dot!" Cassandra called out, a large devious grin painted across her face. Leo's gotcha moment sufficiently fizzling into the abyss, Donnie watched and stifled his laughter as both their eyes followed Cassandra away from the two.

"Huh, really though she'd-"

"Guess who!" Their heads snapped to dad. Oh, wow. Bright red and white sweater with a candy cane pattern. It was an eyesore.

"Papa?"

"Yes, Purple?"

"What's with the..."

"Oh, just a present for the festive season... Pay it no mind!"

Weird, weird, so very weird.

It was about to get weirder.

From the garage entrance, April walked in with Draxum... That by itself wasn't too weird; they lived in the same apartment complex, but what was odd were how they were wearing the matching sweaters.

April had a white one with a bird. Draxum wore a pink one with a bird facing the other way. Two turtle doves... That was probably what the sweaters were supposed to be, which only added to how this was premeditated... Planned.

Mikey called out, "Nice sweater, Dad! And April!"

"Aww, thanks~! Really brings out the holiday spirit, doesn't it?" April gleefully cheered. Draxum looked a little less enthusiastic, but did pump his fist in the air.

Biggest red flag.

"Okay! Timeout!" Leo stood from his seat, nearly toppling the table over, "Who's responsible for all of this!"

"Responsible for what, Leo?" April raised an eyebrow.

"The sweaters?" Donnie questioned to satiate his own curiosity, "Those horrifying pieces of fabric that you all mistake for actual sweaters?"

"They aren't terrible!" Cassandra called out, "They're soft and fluffy!"

"We're not discrediting function over fashion, but we just wanna know-"

"Who's responsible?" Everyone's head snapped toward the entrance to the train carts. The bedrooms. And out emerged Raph, wearing by far the ugliest of all the sweaters. A dark blue sweater with the saddest excuse of a snowman embroidered on it.

"It was all Raph's doing... And you three are going to join us..."

Ah, it's a cult.

Three appropriately-sized sweaters were displayed, tossed onto the table with ease. Before Donnie could even scoff, Mikey had already dove forward to pull out an orange one with a misshapen star. "Ohmigosh! This one has my colours!"

"Ooh, classay~" Leo lifted a light blue sweater with the embroidered text, reading "Merry Crisis". The sleeve was pinned up, so it was definitely meant for Leo. Hah, it did suit him.

"Well, Donnie?" The mentioned softshell looked back up at Raph, "What d'you say?"

He turned to the two brothers who sat beside him, seeing them already donning the Christmas sweaters.

"Scoff! If you think peer pressure will work on me, you have got another thing coming."

"Dad promised uranium if we have one good family photo."

Donnie's never put on a sweater so quickly in his life.

As he slipped the collar over his head, a chorus of footsteps comes through the subway entrance. CJ stood there, along with Sunita behind him. He's regularly dressed, as was the disguised yokai who followed him.

"Hey, what are you guys wearing?" Casey dared to ask. Every single eye turned to the future boy. Everyone's getting an ugly sweater; there was no escape.

#rottmnt #tmnt holiday bingo #snow day play #rottmnt cassandra jones #rottmnt leo #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt splinter #rottmnt april #rottmnt draxum #rottmnt raph #rottmnt casey junior #rottmnt sunita

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chaotic-nick · 1 year

Text

An excuse to talk to you

Note: this was inspired by this Shinigami illustrated book

wc: 625 of the two flirting (I think) no warnings

Karate athlete! Shunsui x Taekwondo player! Reader [this was super fun to write, funfact I did both sports but taekwondo has my heart for forever😭🥲]

• Translations

Gi: used to refer to the uniform in karate

Dobok: taekwondo uniform

8.45 am

Not a minute since he sat down, Yamamoto’s eyes began skimming over the gym. It wasn’t the taekwondo students. Never the taekwondo students, their discipline and politeness impressed him and exceeded his expectations.

Exactly five minutes after he sat silence swept over the gym when he called for his students. Byakuya wearing an irked expression as he walked towards him. Kenpachi scoffed at the eyes watching them, telling his teammates that he’d be back. Of course, Shunsui didn’t need to wink at the taekwondo students.

“Yama-ji!” His greeting full of energy broke the silence Yamamoto’s voice brought, and everyone, resuming to their own agenda.

A hard thud from his cane told the three of their mistake. “Look at your gi’s!” Hies eyebrows furrowed. “The state of it hurts my dojo’s image, have I thought you three nothing?”

Two mouths turned to a straight line, and Shunsui, being unaffected, drawled, “Yama-ji, this is what happens when you practice.” And raised both his arms to emphasise his point.

Another thud, his fingers angrily wrapping around his cane’s handle. “How you practice reflects on your uniforms.”

Kenpachi who slung his gi somewhere in the row of benches and preferred practices topless started, “It’s a nuisance, old man.”

“The fabric’s cheap.” He’ll have a word with Byakuya’s grandfather rather than reason with a stubborn head.

Of course, Shunsui always had the last word, folding his arms under his head, “It does make a good fashion statement, ne?”

“And unironed.” The three of them collectively flinched when he raised his cane to point at the taekwondo students across the dojo, “Be more like them instead—”

A resounding back kick to the kicking bag, “Run,” said (Y/n) pointing to the line and holding the bag in place for the next student. “Good job!”

“Cut us slack, Yama-ji, their uniform’s different.”

Another back kick from (Y/n) to her teammate, “See! Still different, Yama-ji.”

10.30 am, break

By luck, Shunsui had seen the pretty instructor crouched in front of the vending machine watching her snack fall to the. The perfect time for him to walk up to her and ask, “How do you guys do it?”

Outside the gym was different. Her eyes were half-lidded and her mouth was in a pout. First, she looked at him then at the stitching of his name on his gi’s uniform. He tugged his fingers at

“Shunsui! I know you. It’s Unnie!”

“(Y/n).” Standing up with a water bottle offered at him, she held in a laugh. “Unnie, onee-chan, same thing. Are thinking you of switching to our team, Shunsui-san?”

“Nah, I worked hard for this,” he said, tugging at the fourth-degree black belt. “You can be my instructor if I do go back to being a white belt, huh?.”

“I only volunteer here, not an actual instructor.”

Leaning on the glass of the machine, he kept an eye on her as he took a swig from the bottle. “How do you keep your . . . kimono? Gi?"

“Dobok.”

“How do you keep it smooth?”

“Ironing board— sorry. This isn’t really my uniform.”

“Is the actual uniform smooth?”

“No, we have the same dilemma.” She huffed, “Only difference is our master’s in Korea, safe for now.”

“(Y/N)-Unnie!”

“They’re calling for—”

“Listen, uhh-” she patted her pants, realising that their uniforms didn’t have pants at the moment when she wanted to give someone her number, ”shit, no pen. Shunsui, you’re really cool, we should probably talk about how to keep our uniforms smooth—”

A slap of kicking pads, “UNNIE!”

“I’ll have someone give you my details, yeah.”

“I’d actually like that,” he smiled, watching her run into the dojo and get sent back out to bow at the door.

#nick writes fics #shunsui kyoraku x reader #bleach fanfiction #bleach x reader #shunsui x reader #shunsui x you

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slightlyunconventional · 1 year

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hi! here's another fic 🤭 this one i basically just wanted to rewrite the scene from the beginning of s/ix of c/rows where k/az goes to see n/ina but base it off of like. as if it's happening after the show?? so post s2 when they're gonna free m/atthias and. yeah. except i made him allergic to the roses because duh

roses (more k/az allergies because fuck this guy let's make him so miserable)

West Stave was alight with activity as Kaz stalked through the bustling crowd - a shadow in a riot of colour. He strode past the variety of pleasure houses, each adorned with lights, plants, and jewels, their open doors spilling out rowdy music, and tried to brush off the cold feeling which settled in his stomach as he passed the Menagerie.

The pristine white stone facade of the House of the White Rose gleamed at the end of the harbour, laden with climbing white roses which left their dense scent clinging thick upon the air. Kaz grimaced at the sickly smell and found himself sniffling surreptitiously a few times into the high collar of his coat. He determinedly crossed the porch, cane clunking against the marble steps, and entered the wide-open doors into the house’s parlour. The sticky perfume of the sweet roses was doubly potent inside. Kaz fought not to rub at his eyes as he approached the boy at the desk.

“Mister Brekker,” he said, “Nina is with a client.”

Kaz nodded, still sniffling, and sidled down a hallway behind a large alabaster vase which overflowed with more of the sickly-scented white roses, resisting the urge to bury his nose in his collar. It was funny; Kaz knew that the aroma of the blossoms was artificial - this particular breed was naturally odourless - but he still found himself awfully sensitive to the hand-perfumed flowers. He slid his fingers across the smooth white wall, searching for the notch which opened the staff staircase, but paused halfway, feeling his nostrils flare in irritation. He pressed his lips together firmly to stop his breath from catching, and furrowed his brows over his eyes which threatened to flutter shut against the sudden burn which had settled itself within his nose. Kaz remained like this for a moment or two, gloved hand still braced against the wall, before having to succumb to his sinuses and dip forward with an expertly stifled sneeze.

“-gGKTt!”

He shook his head in annoyance and pushed a leather-clad thumb into the notch in the wall. The white panel slid open and he climbed the corkscrew staircase, his nostrils still tingling with need.

Kaz reached Nina’s room up on the third floor. He waited in the bedroom neighbouring hers until her client was down the hall. He watched the man shuffle down the plush-carpeted corridor before exiting the bedroom to knock on Nina’s door. Two smaller white vases of roses stood either side of the door, the floor around them scattered with fallen petals. Just as Nina cracked open the door, Kaz was pulled forward by the force of a second sneeze, again suppressed harshly between gloved thumb and forefinger.

“heh’GNKTtch!”

Nina pulled a face. “Oh,” she said, “You.”

She unhooked the chain from the door and let him show himself in. The flowers’ perfume was not stronger in the room, but definitely sweeter, the aroma sickly, and definitely tickly. Kaz regarded Nina as she shucked off her red kefta and kicked it across the floor.

“Saints, I hate that thing,” she muttered.

“What’s- oh, hell —” Kaz braced a fist against his face. “-huhH’gGKkschh! …what’s wrong with it?”

Nina raised her eyebrows at him. “It isn’t made right. And it itches,” she replied, “And bless you, by the way.”

Kaz ignored her blessing, still rubbing his nose softly with his hand. Nina sighed and ran a hand through her long brown hair.

“What do you want, Kaz?”

She picked up an almond-liqueur cake from a silver tray on the table and bit into it with relish.

“You have crumbs on your cleavage,” Kaz pointed out.

“Don’t care. I’m hungry,” replied Nina, “Now, I have another client in thirty minutes. What business?”

Kaz sighed. “What do you know about… abou-” He paused for a fleeting moment, eyes narrowed. “...know– about– jur- oh, for fuuhhckKSCHHhiew! huH’IHKKSHHhew! Hahh… jurda parem. What do you know about jurda parem?”

“Saints, Brekker, if you’ve come in here spreading some nasty cold everywhere I swear-”

“haAHh’kKSCHhuh!”

Kaz felt his eyes pricking with irritated tears as he pitched forward sneezing again.

“Not sick,” he said shortly, “now answer my question.”

“What question? All you did was sneeze at me,” Nina replied incredulously.

Kaz rolled his eyes at her. She sighed in return.

“There are rumours, but they sound like-”

“huUH’KKISCHHhiew! hhuUHh-haAHH–kKSCHHhuhh! ‘sSCHhiew!”Three violent sneezes ripped through Kaz, cutting Nina off mid-sentence.

“Don’t interrupt me, Brekker,” she said in mock offence. Kaz simply glared at her, eyes glassy and nose a brilliant scarlet. He sniffled pathetically before gesturing lamely for her to carry on.

“As I was saying,” she began pointedly, “There’s rumours, but they sound like nonsense to me. From what I’ve heard, it’s–”

“hiiihhaAHh–!”

“Surely not again,” Nina said, watching Kaz in amusement, “What’s gotten into you, mister Barrel boss?”

Kaz’s hand was pressed firmly against his nose, a barrier to prevent the impending sneezes from escaping him, but by the way his breath stuttered in rapid hitches, his efforts were doomed to be futile.

“Dignity doesn’t matter here, Kaz. Just look at me,” Nina said, laughing.

He looked up at her desperately through the haze of his allergic tears before ducking quickly into the crook of his elbow for a set of heavy, itchy explosions.

“hAH’SHHhiew! aAhH’tTSCHhew! ‘KSCHHhuh!” Kaz caught a moment to catch his breath. “It’s the, the, t-the…hhaAHh’iISHHhiewh! –flowers, make-making me–”

“Oohhhh,” Nina said, “so you haven’t come in here to infect all my clients with the plague?”

Kaz stared at her in disbelief. She laughed.

“I’m teasing, Brekker,” she said, “I think we ought to continue this conversation elsewhere, don’t you?”

Kaz nodded blearily, still looking endearingly sneezy.

“I’ve never known somebody to be allergic to a scent that isn’t even real. Nice to know Kaz Brekker has such a sensitive nose,” she said with a wink. Kaz looked like he could murder her (though his watery eyes and red nose greatly dulled the threat).

“I have two hours free tomorrow evening. See me on Geldstraat at seven bells,” Nina said. Kaz nodded as he began to depart the room.

“Oh, and Brekker?”

He turned around with a sharp, “What?”

“Get yourself a tissue.”

#YAY!!#i nearly fell asleep writing this because ive had such an awful long week but i really wanted to get it done so!! hope you enjoy #snz #snzblr #snz kink #snz blog #snzario #snzfic #sneeze kink #s/ix of cr/ows

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sarahpaulsonsoftie · 2 years

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The light within the darkness

Wilhelmina Venable X reader

Angsty but somewhat fluffy ending. I’m a sucker for angst. Hope you guys enjoy.

Word count- 3409.

Wilhelmina was surprised by you. Perhaps even drawn in by you. You were like no other she had ever encountered before. She was curious about you, but you, just like her, had walls that were not so easily dismantled. She saw small quirks to you. The way your eyes always lingered when an altercation happened in the office, your body tensing and your face holding an unreadable expression.

The way, when it rained, you wouldn’t use an umbrella to go to your car and would just walk at your normal pace, not caring at how wet you got. Or the way when she would insult you, you wouldn’t cry or get anxious the way her previous assistants would. You would just accept the insults she would give you before moving onto your next task.

You started as an intern at Kineros Robotics at 20. Slightly younger than her previous interns, yet so much more mature. The first time Wilhelmina had encountered you; you were working under Todd in accounting. Wilhelmina knew of him well, many complaints of his suggestive comments and inappropriate jokes were reported by younger female staff. But Jeff and Mutt had simply told her to dismiss them and although it felt wrong for even her to do, she did so without a question.

It must have been your first week when there was a major mess up down the accounting department and Todd had sent you to go an explain what had happened, warning you of Wilhelmina. You nodded, silent before wandering off. She couldn’t be as bad as the stories had made her out to be.

But as you came to the door of her office, you felt an intense uncomfortable feeling you could not explain. You knocked on the door, waiting for her to call you in before entering.

There she sat, in her chair, a cane at her side and a scowl on her face. Her red hair was up in a tight bun, highlighting her sharp cheekbones and jawline. She was wearing a lilac suit with a white blouse underneath. You were brought back to reality but her speaking.

“Pray, tell me, are you going to announce your presence or are you just going to gape like a fish?” Her cold tone matched with what the others had told you about her and you nodded, not letting her words bother you.

“Ms. Venable, I’m Y/N L/N. Todd from accounting sent me. He told me to explain what has happened.” You responded, your hands at your sides, watching as an irritated expression came to her face.

“Oh? You work for that imbecile? I do hope his brain numbing jokes hasn’t snatched you off your last few braincells.” Her voice hardened with every word she spoke, and you smirked slightly as everything she said was correct. Her eyes caught your smirk. “Do tell me what you find so amusing, Ms. L/N before I make you regret waking up today.”

“Already do, Ms. Venable. However, Todd told me to tell you that the reason this whole mess is going on is because he is experiencing a ‘Technical difficulty’” You air quoted, and Ms. Venable raised her eyebrows surprised by her response and your honesty.

“Oh? And between us, what is the real reason?” Ms. Venable asked, and you smiled, moving your hands to the door.

“Todd may be an asshole, but still is my superior.” You smirked as you left the room, your eyes lingering to hers before pulling the door closed.

She knew then that you were different. You weren’t disrespectful like the others, nor were you stupid. You knew what you could and couldn’t expose.

The next encounter was a few weeks later. Of course, you had both passed each other in the hallways but this was different. You were sitting in front of her because Todd had requested you be changed department. He did not specify why but he said it would be more beneficial for you to get experience in another department.

“I would describe it as a pleasure to see you today, but the migraine I have from trying to transfer you to another department says otherwise.” Ms. Venable snarked and rubbed her temples and you just stared at her, you were not quite sure what to say this time, scared of being fired. You needed this job; it was perhaps the most stable one you had in your whole life.

“Well, are you going to explain to me why Todd wants you transferred or are you, once again, going to gape at me like a fish?” Her tone grew harsher, but you didn’t immediately respond. “Well, Miss. L/N, if you’re going to waste my time then—”

You cut her off “Whatever Todd said in that email, I suppose.” Wilhelmina eyed you, before standing.

“Well, I suppose, you could become my assistant on a trial basis. However, my assistants never tend to last long.” Her eyes met your and you nodded before thanking her.

Your first week being Wilhelmina’s assistant had been going okay… until today. The delivery that was supposed to happen from the company suppliers didn’t happen and you were stressed, because if you failed this, then you would be out of the door quicker than you could apologize for the mishap. So, you had spent the last hour calling any supplier that could give the same product the same day.

However, unbeknownst to you, Wilhelmina had already received the call from the suppliers letting her know about the failed delivery. Instead of berating you straight away, she decided she would wait for you to come to her.

But as the hours passed, Wilhelmina’s irritation grew. She knew you knew but you avoided her. It was obvious to her now you were like the others, and just as she had picked up the phone to call Jeff and Mutt, you came into the office, with a reddened face and your breath was uneven.

“Ms. Venable, are you busy?” You asked, a nervous undertone in your voice. Wilhelmina smirked, knowing now you had come with your tail in between your legs and now she could finally unleash her wrath.

“What is it you want to tell me, Miss. L/N?” Wilhelmina asked, her eyes looking you up and down. She did enjoy you more than her other assistants and it would be a pity to fire you but you were just like the others.

“A few hours ago, the delivery with our suppliers fell through-“Wilhelmina cut you off, her expression now highlighting her annoyance.

“I am aware. I was made aware Hours ago, and you did not inform me. What were you doing for these past few hours? Looking for excuses to give me? Well, your imbecilic behaviors have cost this company an extreme amount of money. What have you got to say for yourself?” She stood from her desk and approached you, once standing in front of you, her hands rested on her cane.

“I know I should have come to you a lot sooner. But the reason I didn’t was because, I was just on the phone to another supplier. They have the EXACT same product for 33% cheaper. I managed to get a delivery with them tomorrow morning. I know it should have come through today but-“You stopped yourself from speaking any more.

Wilhelmina stood in front of you, with a shocked expression however, just as quickly as it appeared, it disappeared. “How am I supposed to take any word you say as truthful? You could just be saying this and when tomorrow comes, you’ll say this one fell through.”

“Well, the reason I came to you was to get your signature so I could finalize the order. You can look at all the documents.”

Wilhelmina didn’t show you her surprise anymore and instead requested the emails to be sent to her so she could finalize the order you had set up and inform Jeff and Mutt.

That was the night when Wilhelmina realized she had an attraction to you. To your brain. But on a Friday night when everyone was leaving the office for the weekend her car would not start. She sighed before getting out and she spotted you approaching her. You must have been her assistant for 3 months now, the longest lasting one and exchanges of first names was now expected.

“Wilhelmina? Are you okay?” You asked, noticing her defeated expression. Her eyes met yours as she shook her head.

“My car won’t start. I don’t know what to do.” She sighed before looking back her car. You moved closer to her.

“It’s too late to do anything about it now, I’ll drive you home and take a look at it tomorrow for you, how’s that?” You asked, moving your hand closer to hers. Wilhelmina sighed once again before looking you in the eyes and nodding. You took the moment to take in the beauty of her chocolate brown eyes and turned around to avoid her seeing you blush.

“My cars just a few lanes over. Come, follow me.” You stated, and began to walk, looking over your shoulder to make sure she was following you. You slowed your pace slightly, so you were now walking next to you and your hands brushed each other’s as you walked together.

As you reached your car, you unlocked it and opened the passenger seat door for her, eyes lingered for a moment too long before she smiled slightly and thanked you. You nodded, getting into the driver’s seat, and beginning out of the car park.

You were nearly at Wilhelmina’s house before you heard her swear under her breath.

“Shit!” was all she whispered, looking frantically in her bag. You looked at her for a second before moving your eyes back to the road.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, slowing the car, and pulling over. Wilhelmina shut her eyes and sighed.

“I left my house keys in my car. Fuck.” There was a frustration in her voice but not the type of frustration you were used to from Wilhelmina. It was also perhaps one of the first time you had seen the woman lose her composure and swear in front of you.

“Do you have a spare outside your house?” You asked, moving your body slightly to look at her, Wilhelmina sighed again before shaking her head. You let out a long breath before finding the only solution you could to this situation. “It’s late already. If we head back to the office, you won’t get home until gone 10. You can stay at mine, and we’ll grab your keys tomorrow while I look at your car.”

Wilhelmina bit her tongue, contemplating demanding you to drive back but decided that this was probably one of the only times you’d spend time out of the office together, so she nodded. “Thank you.”

You started the car engine and began to drive, before looking at her “Don’t worry about it. But I would prefer if you didn’t mention to anyone where I live.”

“I wouldn’t. I’d prefer you didn’t tell anyone I’m staying the night.” Wilhelmina replied, a bit harsher than she intended and you nodded, the rest of journey in silence.

When you pulled into your car park, Wilhelmina noticed your flat was in a rougher part of town. You got out of the car and opened Wilhelmina’s door. You noticed how her eyes wandered around the worn-down area but didn’t say anything. You locked your car and wandered to your front door, opening it and allowing her to walk in first before shutting the door behind you and turning the lights on.

You noticed her eyes wandering around the apartment and you raised your eyebrows. “What’s wrong?” You enquired; Wilhelmina’s gaze met yours as she moved to sit down.

“Nothing. It just- not what I expected.” Her honesty threw you and you shook your head feeling yourself growing defensive.

“Excuse me?” You retorted, putting your keys onto the counter, while moving towards the fridge.

“No! I mean, it’s just I thought- I- “You turned back to her and waited for her to finish her sentence. “It’s lovely.”

You smiled at her, finally seeing the humor to the situation. “The place is a piece of shit. But it’s all an intern can pay for so it’s home.”

Wilhelmina looked down at her lap before you poured both of you a glass of water. You passed it to her and sat down next to her.

“I didn’t realize the pay was an intern was that low.” She murmured suddenly, wishing the glass of water was a glass of wine.

“It’s better than what I did before. Plus, it’s steady income, so it doesn’t really matter.” You shrugged. “I’ve lived in worse.”

“You’ve never told me. About you job before this. Or anything about your personal life for that matter” Wilhelmina’s tone was curious and part of you wanted to tell her, but the other part knew that she’d look at you differently for it. You didn’t want to destroy that.

You shrugged your shoulders and crossed your legs on the couch, looking at her with an almost pained expression. It made her want to lean in and take your face into her hands. You didn’t speak and looked down at your hands before taking a sip of your water. “We’ll leave in the morning to sort out your car. I’ll sleep on the couch; you take the bed.”

You shut her out and Wilhelmina, in turn, felt herself wanting to shut you out too. But she thought too much of you to allow that to happen. She wanted you to open up, even if that meant opening up herself.

“I can tell you’ve been through a lot. I see it in the way you tense when someone gets too loud or if someone touches you without asking. Y/N, I don’t want you to think I’d judge you. I know more than anyone how difficult opening up is.”

“I can’t, Wilhelmina. I’m sorry.” You responded another pained expression on your face. Wilhelmina reached out her hand to touch your and you looked up at her not wanting her hand to leave yours.

“I like you, Y/N. More than I’ve ever liked anyone, and I just want to help you. The day you first met me, you said you already regretted waking up. Talk to me, please. Not as your boss, as a friend.”

This was too much for you. Way too much for you. You couldn’t let her see you venerable. You let out a sarcastic laugh.

“I dunno, Wilhelmina, has it ever occurred to you that maybe, just maybe, the reason I tense when someone at work touches me is because I don’t like anyone there?” You were being harsh, it felt so wrong. The sorrowful look on Wilhelmina’s face made you feel a guilt you’ve never felt before but you needed to stay firm. She was being open with you, but you couldn’t allow yourself the same leniency.

“Not even me?” Her face held hurt and you wanted nothing more than to tell her that she was the only person you’d liked that much in a long time, that you felt yourself falling in love with her and you just wanted to kiss her right then and there to make everything go away. Instead, you did what you always did and ruined it.

“I think we should get some sleep.” You muttered. Wilhelmina couldn’t argue. So instead, she just stood, you followed her lead. You gave her some clothes to sleep in, then showed her to your bedroom before turning in for the night.

The next morning you drove her to her car, and Wilhelmina pretended not to know that you woke several times the night before, gasping for breath. You pretended that nothing had happened the night before.

When you got to her car, you managed to get it running again. You wished her a good few days off and said you’d see her Monday. Wilhelmina gripped your hand as you turned to walk away and kissed your cheek. You shrugged her off and there was a hurt in her eyes as you left.

It was almost as she expected you to open up right there and then. But you couldn’t.

The Monday afterward was different, she was harsher, stricter. Almost as if she had given up on you. You didn’t let her attitude affect you (Correction: tried not). The next day wasn’t much different, harsh words were exchanged and you didn’t understand yet you were somewhat grateful you had managed to push her away. She didn’t deserve to be part of your mess.

It wasn’t until the Wednesday that something had finally changed. Your nightmares were worse the night before and you felt as if you were on the verge of tears the whole day. When Wilhelmina approached your desk, you knew you were done for.

“Ms. L/N, how many times have I told you not to forward calls straight to my office without notifying me first? Are you that much of an imbecile that you can’t even take in simple instruction? I thought you were better than the rest of them, but I must have been wrong. You’re an imbecile. I don’t understand how you can face the day.” Her harsh words and harsh tone were too much. You knew you deserved it for the way you treated her but today was just too much. You couldn’t help the sob that escaped your lips and you stood. You didn’t look up at her, ashamed you were being this venerable around her.

You walked out of the office, tears freely falling and drove home. You didn’t care anymore. You’d ruined everything.

That night, there was a knock on your door. Your face was tear streaked but you didn’t care as you opened the door. Wilhelmina saw you and didn’t say a word as she entered, she just shut the door behind her before taking you into her arms. Her cane fell to the floor but neither of you cared and you began to sob hard into her arms. She moved the hair out of your face and guided you to your couch, moving your head into her lap.

You didn’t know how long you both had been sitting like that, with her stroking your hair in silence before you sat up and took her face into your hands.

“I’m sorry. I’m Sorry. I’m sorry.” You repeated, feeling the guilt of everything wash over you. Wilhelmina moved her hands to your face as well.

“Shh. Shh, Y/N. It’s okay. Please, just tell me what’s going on. I want to help you. I-“ Wilhelmina cut herself off and you bit your lip, and Wilhelmina saw you tear streaked face and wished she could take your pain away.

“It’s getting bad again, Mina. So bad. I didn’t realize it at first. Then I met you and were like this light in this darkness and I- I wanted- I wanted you. I wanted to love you. To tell you everything but it’s like anyone I’ve ever told always leaves and I don’t want you to leave, Mina. I love you.” Your voice cracked multiple times as you spoke but Wilhelmina pulled you into her embrace as she stroked your hair.

“Babygirl, I love you too. I’m so sorry I was cruel to you. I didn’t know how to deal with you shutting me out so I was cruel and I apologize so much my babygirl, my darling. But please tell me what I can do to make this go away.”

You pulled back slightly to look back at her. “Please just kiss me, Mina.”

Wilhelmina knew that a kiss wouldn’t make all of this go away but she knew it would comfort you and show her you cared in ways her words couldn’t so she placed her lips to yours and you drew her in like she was the oxygen you needed.

When you both finally pulled away, you clutched Wilhelmina’s hand in yours, afraid she’d disappear if you let go.

“My darling girl, we’ll get through this together.” Wilhelmina stated as she pulled you in for another kiss, and you smiled a small smile, some of the hurt easing because at least now you had Wilhelmina by your side.

-Fin

Hope you guys enjoyed!

#wilhelmina venable #wilhemina venable x reader #sarah paulson #AHS #F #sarah paulson imagine #sarah paulson x reader #wilhelmina venable imagine #wilhelmina venable x reader #ms venable

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