#I think they could help Punk but not without incident

[thedman0310]

[agreeewrites]

A Madness Most Discreet p.3 | G.W.

feat George Weasley x Malfoy!reader

summary: after a brawl at the Three Broomsticks, you and George steal away for a night of romance without the specter of being caught looming over you. however, when you return to Hogwarts in the morning, you find that things have taken a turn for the worse.

cw: MDNI 18+, smut, protective!George, fighting, drinking, Draco is an asshole, blood prejudice and classism, internal angst, some fluff, Umbridge joins the chat

series navigation | part one | part two | part four | masterlist | divider by @roseraris

Reader's POV

The Three Broomsticks was slammed, damn near packed to rafters with students. Endless trays of butterbeer and whiskey flew over your head to sate the crowds debauched appetites, the glasses rattling with every thump of the shitty punk bands drummer.

You were crammed into a corner booth, sipping on a cocktail you had to teach the bartender how to make, with three of your friends, pretending to care about their relationship drama and the latest Slytherin gossip.

“Are you seeing anyone?” Talia asked, placing a hand over yours to get your attention.

“Not at the moment,” you shrugged, taking a sip of your drink. “I'm finding most Slytherin boys are rather…dull.”

They all nodded sympathetically.

“Well, what about non-Slytherin’s?” Devi asked, leaning in conspiratorially. Everyone was well aware of the fact that dating a non-Slytherin was off the table, as far as your family was concerned.

Little did they know you were sporting a bite mark from a certain red-headed Gryffindor just below the waistline of your skirt.

You rolled your eyes. “Not even worth talking about, let alone dating” you drawled. “Soph, how are things with that Ravenclaw?” You asked, turning the conversation away from you.

“Ugh, I ended that. They were way too chatty,” Sophie laughed, before rambling for about fifteen minutes about why she thought they were too chatty.

You finished your drink and flagged down the waitress for another. “Make it a double,” you said, sliding her an extra galleon. You'd need all the help you could get to survive this evening.

“Who do you think is the hottest Slytherin?” Devi asked.

“If one of you says my brother, I swear to Salazar—” You and Draco hadn't spoken in days, not since the Howler incident, and the last thing you wanted to do was listen to your friends drool over how hot he was.

“No, no!” Devi giggled. “What about Blaise, though?”

“Oh, or Theo!”

“Dull,” you reiterated, laughing along with them. “Theo’s about as toxic as he is tall, and Blaise is so far up his own ass, he can't see the sun.”

“But they are pretty,” Talia argued. “And that's all they really need to be, anyways.”

You chuckled. “Very true.”

“What about Gryffindor?” Sophia asked.

Devi chewed her lip, then—”Okay, okay, don't laugh, but I think the Weasley twins are gorgeous.”

You about choked on your fresh drink. “The Weasley's?” You asked, putting as much incredulity into your voice as you could.

“I know, I know. But George is like—” Devi fanned herself.

“They are unreasonably tall,” Sophia added. “And that will always make a guy hotter.”

“Oh my God, oh my God, look!” Talia squeaked, pointing at the door.

As if Devi manifested them, Fred and George sauntered into the Three Broomsticks, with Lee, Ron, Harry and Seamus on their heels. And of course, George looked damn near sinful in his light wash jeans and rugby jersey, his hair tousled in that devil-may-care, thoroughly kissed way he looked after you got your fangs into him.

Merlin, you saw him yesterday, you needed to get a grip.

His eyes snagged on yours across the room, a spark igniting that you could see even in the dim and dusty tavern. But then, Angelina Johnson swept in, grabbing him by the hand and pulling him over to the couches where her and her friends were.

You didn't have a problem with Angelina, you shared Magical Runes together, and she always struck you as plucky and clever, two traits you liked very much in a woman. But disquiet pooled in your stomach when George smiled down her, saying something you couldn't make out while he graciously greeted her friends.

It was ridiculous, though, because you and George weren't official. You couldn't be official—no, wait, you didn't want to be official. Right? You didn't want a relationship, you wanted to have fun. And you were.

Things with George had been lots of fun. And that was all it needed to be. Fun.

“Ugh, that Johnson girl is going to get him,” Devi scoffed, offended by the very insinuation, as if she’d have a chance either way.

“Angelina’s not so bad,” you said without thinking.

Your friends all stared at you.

“Rubbish Quidditch player though,” you added quickly, and they seemed to relax, sliding into gossip about the Quidditch match between Ravenclaw and Slytherin this weekend.

Angelina was far from a rubbish Quidditch player, but you felt compelled to divert the situation, even if the comment sat like a rock in your stomach.

Your focus turned back to George while your friends dithered, and you noticed he was moving away from Angelina, rather than sitting down like you'd expected. He was shaking his head, mouth turned down apologetically, and your heart gave a little flip.

Was he rejecting her?

His dark eyes flicked to you again, skating over your body, the bare skin of your legs, and a now familiar warmth kicked up in the belly. Even without words or touches, George always managed to make you melt.

You knew he only had eyes for you, and it settled the passing quake in your soul.

He returned to his friends, having to shout over the crowd to order a beer. You smiled to yourself, unable to stop the bloom of affection his voice conjured.

Another hour passed, the two of you on separate sides of the stuffy tavern, periodically catching each other's eye through the haze of pipe smoke. You wanted desperately to ditch your friends and curl up in a booth with him, maybe rent one of the private lounges for a bit…

The tavern doors swung open, and your improved mood immediately soured once more.

Draco came traipsing in with Blaise, Theo, and Pansy, smug as a peacock. You sunk further down into your booth, trying to hide behind Sophia, but of course, Draco spotted you.

He made a beeline straight towards you, pushing through the crowd without care.

“We'll be over there, y/n,” Talia said, pointing at a table across the room while ushering Devi out of the booth, Sophia following them.

“No, wait—shit.” So much for friends.

“I thought you were at the castle?” Draco asked, bracing his hands on the table and the back of the booth. Caging you in.

“I am, obviously,” you replied, taking a sip of your drink. It tasted bitter, watery, but the booze still burned enough to work.

“Why are you avoiding me?” He pressed, sliding your drink away from you.

You scoffed. “Maybe because you're a controlling arse?” You yanked your drink back, liquor sloshing over the rim.

“I'm not—” he sighed. “Okay, I am. But I had nothing to do with that Howler.”

You rolled your eyes. “Don't you have bullshit to peddle elsewhere?”

He slid into the booth and you scooched away, refusing to look him in the eye, lest you cave to his guilty expression. “I'm not bullshitting you. I would never go to father behind your back, I swear.”

Draco had always been a shit liar, especially when it came to you. Sincerity shone through his pale eyes. You hated it, but only because it meant you had been wrong.

“You know he'd blame me for your discretion, so why would I rat?” Draco added, and you knew he was right. Draco always took the fall for your missteps, no matter how you pleaded with your father.

It was Draco's job to protect you, so any failing on your part was ultimately his.

“I know,” you murmured, placing a hand over his. An unspoken apology. Malfoy's didn't apologize.

“You know why I didn't get a Howler too?” He asked.

You shook your head.

He leaned forward, ensuring he wasn't overheard. “I went home with the Vanishing Cabinet, got the flogging in person the day before.”

You gasped, releasing his hand to cover your mouth. “Why didn't you say anything?”

“I thought he'd leave it at that. Didn't want you to worry. But then he sent the Howler…” he mumbled, stealing a swallow of your drink, then screwed up his face in disgust. “That's bloody awful.”

“So, who snitched?” You asked, glancing sidelong at his friends and a few Slytherin’s clustered by the bar they were too young to drink at.

Draco shrugged. “Snape, I reckon. Maybe another student.”

Snape. That's who George accused as well.

“Why would Snape do that?”

“Because he's a miserable fuck trying to get father to trust him,” Draco replied. “Same reason anyone does anything to us.” A bitterness edged his tone, and a frown tugged at the corners of your lips.

When did he start looking so…weary?

“Are you alright?” You asked.

He nodded. “Just couldn't stand having you hate me too.”

“Oi, fucking watch it, Weasley!” Theo barked, wrenching you and Draco from your conversation. “They don't teach respect in the gutter?”

Ron was standing a few feet from Draco's friends, cheeks red with fury. “Fucking lightweight, gets knocked by sodding spring breeze—”

“More like a fucking golem, bloody stupid oaf—”

Ron swung, fist coming hard and fast, but Theo managed to duck under it, driving his shoulder into Ron's guts.

Draco was up in a flash, catching Lee before he could intervene and shoving him back. “How about you mind your fucking business, Jordan? Wouldn't want your jaw too mangled to announce my fucking victory this weekend—”

You jumped up, rushing to try and separate Theo and Ron, who were trading punches like playing cards, but someone caught you around the middle, hauling you back a split second before you got caught with a wayward swipe. So close you felt the air bending around Theo's fist caress your face.

“Enough!” George snapped, directly behind you, his brawny arm solid and comforting around your waist. He released you the next second, though, taking a half-step away. Fred was there the next second, prying Ron out of the Theo's grip while Harry got between Draco and Lee.

You grabbed Draco as soon as Lee had his hands off of him, wrapping your arm around his to keep him from lunging again. “Stop it, D,” you hissed in his ear. “The last thing we need is the Aurors telling father—”

Draco was huffing, anger rolling off him in pungent waves. “Wouldn't be a fucking problem if the boors would just stay in their place,” he spit, pointing a finger in Ron’s face, his Malfoy signet ring flashing in the candlelight.

You gasped. “Draco!—”

Ron lunged towards the two of you, fist cocked back to hit Draco, but George jumped in the middle, catching Ron's fist and shoving him back a step.

“I said enough,” he growled, throwing a glare back at Draco. You'd never seen George so serious, something militant and snarling possessing your sweet Georgie.

“What's the matter Weasley? Can't stand to see your little brother get his ass handed to him?” Theo taunted.

“Ron could snap your scrawny ass like a twig,” you shot back.

“Oi, fuck you. Birds stay out of it—”

George snatched Theo up by the collar, dragging him up onto his tiptoes and shaking him. “Not another word, Nott,” he warned.

Merlin, you knew George was protective, but this…he looked prepared to rip Theo’s throat out with his teeth.

“Okay, okay, let's just calm down. We're not fucking children,” you said, moving away from Draco to get between George and Theo. You placed a hand on George's chest, feeling his heart pounding beneath his ribs, and nudged him back.

Reluctantly, he released Theo, stepping back to stand beside his twin, hackles still raised, chest rising and falling quickly.

Theo opened his mouth to say something else, but your warning glare had him cracking his jaw shut.

“It's over. Draco, take your friends home,” you said, channeling every bit of your mother's authority.

Draco scowled. “You can't—”

“Go. Potter, take Ron back,” you ordered. “You bairns are to young to drink anyways.”

They all scoffed, grumbling about how you weren't the boss of them while still gathering their things. You risked a glance at George, and the proud gleam in his eye made your knees weaken.

“Go on, then. The princess has spoken,” Fred teased, waving them away, grinning when Draco flashed him a vicious glare.

You rolled your eyes and turned your back on them, bracing your elbows on the bar to hide your trembling. The lingering adrenaline from the fight and the thrill of George's protectiveness made you feel a little lightheaded.

“C’mon, let's get out of here,” Fred said, moving towards the door. Lee and George followed, and your heart sank a bit watching George walk away without a backwards glance.

Then—“Actually, I’m gonna hang back for another drink, but I'll meet up with you later?” You overheard George say, and it took everything in you to not perk up like a dog.

“Saw something you liked?” Fred asked, and you could practically hear the waggle in his eyebrows.

“Something like that,” George chuckled.

You risked a glance up in time to see Fred and Lee walk out of the pub, leaving George by the door, waving them off.

“What'll it be, love?” The bartender asked.

“Just a water and a room, please,” you asked, sliding some coins across the table.

George leaned against the other side of the bar, watching you over the rim of his beer. An impish smirk lifted the corner of his mouth.

“Sure, hun.” They took your coins and grabbed a key from under the bar, passing it to you before fetching you water.

You accepted your water with a smile and headed to the stairs, having to stop yourself from taking them two at a time out of excitement. Butterflies rioted in your stomach, your skin tingling in anticipation.

With shaking hands, you unlocked the door, draping your Slytherin scarf over the handle so he'd know which was yours.

Five minutes later, knuckles rapped softly on the door.

“Come in,” you called, turning back to the mirror while your removed your earrings.

A moment later, George appeared in the mirror behind you, his arms looping around your waist and hauling you back into his chest.

“Must you dress so bloody gorgeous all the time?” He asked, openly ogling you in the mirror, hands smoothing over your curves.

You smirked, setting your earring on the vanity. “Never know who I might need to impress—”

George spun you around, pining your hips to the counter as he leaned over you. Your lower belly liquified at the ferine look in his eye. It seemed his blood was still running hot after the fight.

“Find anyone?” He asked, carding his fingers through your hair to tilt your head back a little further, exposing the tender sweep of your neck.

Something reckless in you wanted to test the waters, draw out this newfound, bestial side of him. “There was this one Gryffindor, handsome, charming, dark curly hair—”

George’s fist tightened against your scalp, the prickle of pain making you gasp as he leaned in closer. “I'll call Lee back here then, see if he can wrangle you half as well as I do,” he purred, his hand on your waist sliding down between your legs, rucking up the little dress you wore. His fingers grazed the swell of your aching cunt, discovering the honey soaking through your underwear, and loosed a low chuckle. “Someone else get you this wet, love?” he cooed, kissing along your jaw while you melted like putty.

“Just a coincidence,” you whispered, breathless when his middle finger passed over your vexed clit, still a bit sore from the day prior.

He hummed, withdrawing his hand and resting it on your thigh, letting you feel the wetness clinging to his fingers. “Just a coincidence, huh?”

You whined, folding immediately at the loss of contact. “You'll think I'm insane,” you admitted, hiding your face in his shoulder.

“Will I, now? Why's that?” He tugged your head back up by the roots of your hair.

“I liked…seeing you…get protective…” you mumbled, averting your eyes.

He tilted his head a bit, looking infuriatingly chuffed with the revelation. “Oh, sweet girl. That fight turn you on?”

“Not the fight, just…you.”

“I see.” He nodded sagely. “Here I thought you'd think I was out of line.”

You shook your head, working your lower lip between your teeth. “What would you have done if Theo’s rogue punch connected?”

George's eyes darkened. “Something that would send me to Azkaban for life, probably,” he said, voice pitching lower, the roughness of it making you shiver. “I'm not usually quick to anger, but with you…” He sighed, resting his forehead against yours.

Your heart surged, pounding frantically in your chest. The world felt silty beneath you, shifting, spreading, on the precipice of being swallowed whole. On the verge of falling.

Careless, you plunged forward, crashing your lips into his. He collapsed into you, his tongue diving between your teeth to devour you. You could taste the beer on his lips, something hoppy and dark, intoxicating, and you pulled him closer, needing more, needing to breath him like air.

“Need you,” you panted, gulps of air sawing through your burning lungs.

He tossed you up onto the counter, belt clinking against the ceramic as he undid it. “M’sorry, baby. Can't wait,” he muttered into your hair, spreading your knees apart with his hips.

Panties tugged to the side, the cold bite of the tile against your fevered skin, the steely hardness of his cock breaching your heat, fullness, fuck, so full.

“George,” you keened, nails scrabbling for purchase on the vanity as he fucked up into you, splitting you down the middle. But the clenched fist of your cunt hampered his progress.

“S’fucking tight, rattlesnake. Seven hells,” he growled, spreading your thighs wider, pressing deeper.

“I can't—shit,” you whimpered, tears collecting on your lower lashes at the brutal stretch.

“You can, pretty. I know you can,” he soothed, palming the side of your face and kissing away an errant tear. “Just need to relax f’me.” His other hand left your thigh, dipping between your bodies. Middle finger brushed your clit, tracing gentle circles around it, and you felt your muscles start to unwind, the stitches of pain dissolving into pleasure.

“Fuck, George,” you moaned, his cock sliding a bit deeper as your walls loosened.

“There you go, thaaat's a good girl. Nice n’ easy,” he hummed, withdrawing his hips before sinking forward again, finding a steady, languid rhythm as he fucked you open. “You feel so good, baby. Perfect little pussy takin’ me so well,” he praised, lips feathering over your pulse.

Pleasure mounted, evident by the puddle collecting beneath you, slick soaking into his jeans. Your body was starting to ignite, a delicious, consuming warmth spreading under your skin that had you singing his praises. Enraptured.

Lips found yours again, parting, taking, the sloppiness of it dragging you closer and closer to oblivion. Quick fingers and deep, deliberate thrusts hitting every mark, every nerve. It was inevitable, hunting you, chasing you down like prey.

No one could fuck you like George could, and you told him so between broken cries.

“Yeah, baby? No one can fuck you like me—fuckin’ made for me,” he groaned, thrusts getting rougher, punishing as the coil in your belly tightened, baring down on him. “Go on, love. Show me how good I make you feel. Come for me—”

You shattered, a dying star, eclipsed entirely by bliss.

“Shit, gonna take me with you—fuck!” A snap of his hips, the slap barely audible over your mewling, and you snatched his soul, greedy cunt milking him for everything he had.

He braced his hands on the counter, trembling with effort of not crushing you while you twitched and spasmed, locked up so tight he could barely withdraw.

“Shh, love—did so good,” he murmured, kissing every bit of skin he could reach while your mind pieces itself back together, bits of soul adrift in a sea of dopamine. “M’sorry—I didn’t—did I hurt you?”

You shook your head as you came back into your body, feeling his cock slide out you with a surge of release. “Didn't hurt me,” you panted, catching his chin and drawing him into an airy kiss, too out of breath for a proper one, but feeling compelled to do it anyways.

“Good,” he exhaled with a relieved smile, pecking your lips again. “How long do we have the room for?” He straightened to grab his wand and clean you both up.

“Tomorrow morning,” you replied, folding your lips to suppress a smile.

His eyes widened, copper brows shooting up. “Sleepover?”

You nodded, chest swelling with giddy elation. “Sleepover.”

George's POV

George managed to coax you into a shower, insisting on washing your body himself with the cheap inn soap just to hear you purr in pleasure, relaxing completely into him. He didn’t know what it was about you, but he wanted to brush your hair, feed you grapes, fan you with one of those big leaves like Cleopatra.

He was down bad.

“I saw you talking with Draco earlier,” he said, massaging away the tension in your shoulders. “Are you guys okay now?” It was clear how much fighting with Draco weighed on you, and George cared more about your happiness than his own distaste for your younger sibling.

You shrugged. “He's says he didn't snitch—” a soft moan slipped past your lips when he dug into a particularly tight knot. “He actually mentioned Snape as a possibility, like you.”

George was glad you couldn't see the face he made. If Draco accused Snape, it was extremely likely that it was actually the Potions Professor.

How much attention has Snape actually been paying to you?

His hands stilled on your shoulders as anxiety slithered under his skin, coiling around his throat. Could Snape know?

You turned to face him, eyes round and tender. “You worry too much,” you cooed, wrapping your arms around his neck, dripping wet skin pressing against his. His anxiety unraveled, bones softening, and bent down towards you like the branches of a willow. Molded his lips to yours.

It wasn't hurried, stolen seconds like the majority of the kisses you shared. Rather, it was languid, loose and messy and indulgent. Lips gliding through warm water, tongues sweeping, tasting, savoring.

He was lightheaded with it, bracing one of his hands on the stone wall behind you, afraid he'd dissolve entirely and wash down the drain. Away from you.

Merlin, how could he ever be away from you?

Then, it dawned on his that this may be the only chance he'll have to do this with you-- spend a quiet night somewhere safe, where he could love you however he wanted without fear of being caught. He could shower with you, sleep in the same bed with you. Such simple mundanities that felt more precious than gold with you.

This thing with you was fleeting—a strike of lightning. A shooting star. And soon, it would have to end. He couldn't bring you home, couldn't get a flat with you—

The thought stole his breath, a pained sound escaping from his throat, and you broke the kiss, pulling back to look at him.

“George?” You caressed his cheek, pushing his soaked hair from his forehead. The sweetest thing. “Love, are you alright?”

He nodded, turning his head into your palm and brushing the delicate skin of your inner wrist, the heel of your palm, with his lips. He didn't trust himself to speak.

“Let's just focus on being here, yeah?” You murmured, able to discern where his mind had taken him. “Just us, just tonight.”

Tears burned behind his eyes, but he pushed through them in favor of kissing you again, crowding you back against the shower wall. Focused on the heat of your skin, the slide of your limbs around his, your tongue on his throat, and let worries of tomorrow wash away.

After a second, equally as intense round, he dried you both off and carried you to bed, your wobbly legs that of a newborn fawn. The bookshelves beside the bed caught his eye, and he wandered over after tucking you in and lighting some candles.

He slid something off the shelf, garnet leather, tattered at the corners, with silver embossing on the cover and spine: Romeo and Juliet.

Normally, he wouldn't reach for Shakespeare, but you made him want to weave sonnets, monologue verbosely on balconies edge—

“How's this?” He asked, turning to show you, and your kiss-bitten lips curled into a sleepy smile.

“Perfect,” you hummed.

He climbed back into the downy bed beside you, your naked body curling against his side, natural as the moonlight caresses the wall. The steady thrum of your heartbeat synchronized with his as you got comfortable, nuzzling into his shoulder.

The book opened with an antiquated crack, pages thin and yellowed with time. He leafed through it until he reached the Prologue, and started to read aloud.

“Two households, both alike in dignity,

In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,

From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,

Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean,

From forth the fatal loins of these two foes,

A pair of star-crossed lovers take their life…”

Reader’s POV

When you and George return to the castle the following morning, you part as if complete strangers. Without a backwards glance, without the preamble of a goodbye. George turned towards the Great Hall, you, towards the library. But the loss was an anchor on your heart, raw and sulfuric as freshly carved grief.

Going back to acting like strangers, propping up the charade after the bliss of tearing it down, felt impossible. Insurmountable. Agonizing.

You'd never been more sure that George Weasley was yours and you were his. And what a cruel trick of fate that you could never be together, not without sacrificing everything else.

And even if you were willing to, you knew George wasn't. He would never give up his family, would never disappoint them in that way. And you could never ask him too, not matter how badly you wanted him.

But you couldn't let him go either, too selfish, too desperate, too possessive. A dog with a bone. How could you go back to that world of callousness, of treachery and darkness after being bathed in his light?

You made it nearly halfway to the library when a commotion rang out, students running down the hall back towards the courtyard at the center of the castle. Like the rush of a river, you were quickly caught up it in, bobbing along until you were spit out at the back of a massive crowd of students and faculty.

Draco's platinum hair caught your attention towards the front, and you forced your way towards him.

“What's going on?” You hissed, tugging at his robes.

He turned, a cruel retort on his tongue until he realized it was you. “Trelawney’s getting canned,” he snickered, ushering you in front of him, his body shielding your from the push of the crowd.

That explained the wailing.

“Why on earth would Dumbledore do that—” but then you noticed the pink-clad Umbridge standing beside the bawling Divination professor and all of her belongings. You had always disliked the puggish woman, with her upturned nose and pressed lips, expensive tweed dyed that horrible, intestinal pink.

In her hand, she held a dismissal order on the Ministry letterhead.

Something was deeply wrong.

You spotted George across the way, standing with his siblings, Harry and Hermione. He edged in front of Ginny, pulling her just slightly behind him as he watched Umbridge chastise poor Trelawney with narrowed eyes. He had Harry by the shoulder, preventing the impulsive boy from running out the professors defense.

He looked…afraid. Fred did too.

George's eyes met yours, softening a bit before they flicked up to Draco, and immediately turned glacial. Hostile. You glanced up and found Draco smiling, and your stomach turned.

McGonagall rushed out, gathering Trelawney in her arms and shushing her.

“Is there something you'd like to say, dear?” Umbridge asked.

“Oh, there are several things I'd like to say,” McGonagall bit.

Draco snickered, and you elbowed him.

Then, the doors burst open behind you, revealing Albus Dumbledore. He strode forward, anger practically radiating off of him.

“Professor McGonagall, might I ask you to escort Sybil back inside?”

The way Umbridge was looking at him, all arrogance and snobbery. Like she knew something he didn't…

Understanding settled heavy on your bones. This was no ordinary sacking—this was an act of war. The war George tried to explain. The war that your family tried to hide from you. The war that the Ministry was in denial of, that you were in denial of.

George had tried to warn you, but it was too late.

The war had officially come to Hogwarts, and you were standing on the wrong side of it.

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[the-kr8tor]

The Less I Know The Better

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Synopsis: An office holiday party gone awry.

Word count: 8.5k

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (except for clothing), Reader has nicknames, part 3, mockumentary AU, Co-worker AU, Co-worker! Hobie, slight loser! Hobie, CW alcohol, CW food mentions, CW injury.

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Part 3 >>> Part 4

Your whole body is stretched to perfectly line up the holiday garlands on the conference room walls. Back aching and arms starting to cramp while Jessica stands a few ways behind you. She instructs you on where to tack on the scratchy garlands with its sparkly tinsel. The air smells like cinnamon and ginger bread. The food is all laid out on a long foldable table, the sight alone has your stomach rumbling.

“Here?” You struggle a bit, arms aching as you tiptoe on the highest step of the ladder.

“A little bit further up.” You're starting to think that she's just playing with you. She notices your strained huff as you sweat from the harsh camera lights pointed right at you. “Sorry, I would help but the company will not pay me hazard comp if I fall, especially while I'm pregnant.”

“You're pregnant?” You almost fall back, metal ladder wobbling under you briefly before you manage to balance yourself. Your heart thuds in your chest, and you were almost grateful that the documentary crew wasn't there to witness it. Just their cameras that they placed on each corner of the room whilst they shoot b-rolls of the rest of the ‘cast.’ Great.

“Whoa, you okay?” Jess holds up her hands, quickly crossing the distance to steady the ladder.

“Yeah, um congratulations.” you exhale out a nervous bout of air. “That was almost the end of me.” With a nervous laughter, you climb back up the steps to pin the garland. You don't even care if it's lopsided or not, and Jessica doesn't speak up about it either as she grasps her stomach. “Crap, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I bet he was nervous too.” She takes a deep inhale. “I'll be back in a second.”Jessica leaves but comes sauntering back inside. “Can you start decorating the food table, thanks.” Before you could say yes, she's already heading towards the bathroom.

“Okay,” you climb down the ladder with measured steps. You're still a temp so that means if you get injured on the job, you won't get worker's comp. Just three months to go and you can finally breathe easily when you're officially an employee.

Once your feet are back on solid ground, you head towards the sparsely decorated table. There are saran wrapped dishes placed, courtesy of your co-workers. There are also a few dishes with tin foil covering on top of it to keep the heat in, and an empty punch bowl ready to be filled with juice. That makes your mind wander back to Hobie and how he's doing. You two have become casual friends throughout the past few months. He smiles at you whenever he delivers your mail, and would sometimes start a friendly conversation with you. “It's gettin’ colder, innit?” He asks, “What're you havin' for lunch?” And you'd answer back with a smile and a friendly reply. After that he’s gone and out on delivery again. And of course you sometimes have lunch with him together with the rest of the lunch club. But it doesn't feel the same as before the bar incident. You don't know what changed when you tried incredibly hard to not let exactly like this from happening. The awkward glances and the polite smiles have made you feel…bad. Frustrated. Like you've done something terrible to your friend.

MJ has been apologetic to you, and has taken it upon herself to seek out Hobie and his band to personally apologize to them. You start to notice that they've been hanging out more after that. Without you usually, well, more than usual. You don't mind it, or you keep telling yourself that you don't. She comes home telling you stories about the band and Hobie more and more. “He only likes the blue sour patch kids.” And, “yeah, he also told me that there used to be another band member.” You're happy that she found a new friend, and sometimes, just once, you wish that she'd invite you to one of those hangouts. You always liked being alone in your own little bubble of comfort. And MJ knows that, being your friend for a decade or so, she knows how introverted you are. She says that you're her favourite because you know how to listen. But you like to talk too. Not as much as her or as social as her, but it's nice to just be around people, to be invited to sit at the same table as them— to just talk and be listened to. Just like how Hobie is with you. But recently, you two have been missing each other in the office. Usually you would arrive just in time at the exact moment he arrives. But lately, you keep finding yourself alone in the office hallway while you wait for the elevators to open.

The lunch club is at least consistent, and you always eat with them in the break room. You're too afraid to ask where Hobie is or what's happening to him. Maybe he's planning on quitting? Maybe the band is just ramping up their performances from every weekend to every day? Either way, you haven't spoken to him in a while other than seeing him briefly with his mail cart. Why do you feel bad for missing him?

With a sigh, you look outside the window where a fresh drizzle of snow covers the whole empty soccer field right next to the office. The weather has been icy and chilly, more than when you walked to the bus stop. And the feeling’s mutual inside the office. Everyone just wants to go home and stay home. Hobie did invite you to that concert he was talking about a couple of months ago. You're still thinking whether or not you should go. Are you even still invited to that?

As you rearrange the red plates with printed garlands around it, an arm shoots out next to you. For a second you think it would be Hobie coming to fill the punch bowl or to place his contribution, but based on the rich cologne, it's Harry.

You know the scent well ever since you two started carpooling together. It all started on accident really when the ground was too slippery from sleet and he practically begged you to take you home, worried that you'd crack your head on the pavement on your way to the bus stop. After that it snowballed from taking you home occasionally, to giving you a ride home every night. He offered to drive you to the office every morning too if you hadn't told him that he actually lives out of the way from your side of town. He just sighed with a lopsided smile and accepted to only take you home to save you a bus fare. You liked the conversations with him, and you always offer to pay him back but he just shrugs and asks you to buy him a cheap cup of coffee from the convenience store on the way to your place. A cup of coffee turns into talking on the hood of his car while you two chat the night away while munching on chips and gas station hotdogs. It was a surprise kind of friendship that you never thought would blossom into something more than just being co-workers.

“Hey, ice princess.” He smiles, cheeks red from the biting cold outside as he places bottles upon bottles of red punch on the table right next to the bowl. “Your domain’s expanding.”

“Sorry about that.” You joke back, earning a rare chuckle from Harry. “Did you go outside in that weather?”

He blows at his palms, the tip of his nose is rosey. “Yeah, I forgot these in my car.”

“You should warm up, don't want you getting hypothermia now.” You cheekily side eye him.

Shaking his head with a grin tamped down by biting his lip, his cheeks grow redder. “Using my own words against me, wow.”

“I try my best.” You shrug, stacking the plates in a neat pile before you go around him to grab the box of decorations under the table. He helps you lift it up, and you give him your thanks as you place it on the table. It's filled with Santa Clauses, dainty snowmen, and tiny pine trees. “I heard about your sale, congrats.”

“Yeah,” he puffs out his chest with pride as he opens a bottle to fill the bowl. “Thank you, it was a tough sell.”

“I heard, literally, we're desk neighbors. I heard everything.” You say as you place the figurines of Santa next to a savoury smelling dish. “It was like I was watching ‘the wolf of wall street.’”

“Was I that loud?” He mutters while the gurgle of juice fills the bowl. “How about I treat you—” he swallows thickly. “— as a sorry for being too loud, and as a celebration.” Avoiding your eyes, you gaze at him, blinking slowly. “Nothing fancy, just dinner.”

“Okay,” you slowly say. You two technically always have dinner together. But this time it'll be a far cry from eating in his car while mustard dribbles from your fingers and he makes fun of you for putting mustard on your hotdog. It's still just dinner, right? “What do you have in mind?” You can practically hear the docu crew snickering from somewhere once they review the footage. This is probably ‘hot goss’ for them, or that's what Lyla always tells you when they focus on a couple in admin.

“There's this Thai place I've been meaning to go to.” Harry exhales shakily as he continues to pour the second bottle of punch. “Do you like Thai? We can go someplace else if you want.” He almost stammers out the last word.

You smile with endearment, fingers unconsciously playing with the snowman figurine in your hand. “No, I like Thai, that sounds great.” You even surprised yourself at how composed you sounded.

“Yeah?” He boyishly smiles, a brown curl falling over his eye as you nod. “Cool, great. I'll pick you up this weekend.”

“Okay,” you nervously nudge him, and he hides a growing smile. “Be careful, it's almost full.”

“Oh yeah, shoot!” He tips the bottle back before the juice spills over the old carpet. “Thanks, do you need help—?” Before you could say something, a shrill ring of a phone interrupts you both. He takes out his phone and winches. “Sorry, it's my dad…”

“No, it's okay, go ahead, I'm good over here.” You wave him off, and as he leaves, you notice him grimacing at the garland you just put up. “Shit,” you huff, placing the snowman down on the table as you make your way back to the ladder.

It's the last hurrah before the holiday break starts, and you're incredibly glad that you got hired into a company that has a week off during the holidays. So you definitely want to make the place look good or at least presentable to maybe impress your bosses.

The metal creaks under you while you climb up the highest step. You stretch yourself once again as you pluck the garland out to fix it. Something almost falls from within the thick garland, and you catch it in your hand before it falls. Opening your palm, you see a mistletoe all bundled together with a red ribbon. You stare curiously at it since this came from a box labeled ‘office holiday decorations.’ A mistletoe at an office party? Is that even appropriate? You chuckle at the thought.

“How's the weather up there?” A familiar voice asks and you crane your neck so fast that you accidentally fling yourself from the rickety ladder, grip loosening as your fingers brush along the cold metal step. “Oh shit!” You gasp as Hobie rushes in to catch you.

Bracing yourself for impact, you don't feel it as Hobie took the blow of the floor for you.

“Oh fuck, are you okay?! I'm so sorry, Hobie.” You take his cheek as he groans from under you. Your legs are beside him, accidentally straddling him while the mistletoe lands right on his chest— right in between the two of you. “Are you hurting anywhere?” You ask, frazzled and worried.

Hobie lifts up his head with a wobbly grin, eyes gazing at you softly then over to the fallen mistletoe. “Does this still count?”

You follow his line of sight. “Wha— Hobie!” Your cheeks run heavy with warmth when you realize what he's talking about. As you look down, your eyes are fixated on his goofy grin and handsome face. His wicks frame around his face, piercings glinting under the blinking Christmas lights.

“Why do we always find ourselves like this, lovie?” He reminisces about the time you fell on him during Lyla's earthquake scare while you're just trying to even out your breathing lest you fall unconscious on top of him.

“What happened?!” Jessica comes running after the sound of the ladder clatters on the floor. You're immediately rolling off of Him on the floor before she could even wrap her mind around the position you two were in. “Are you two okay?”

Hobie, still on the floor, lifts his hand and gives her a thumbs up. While you could only look at the carpet and how it feels under your clammy hands.

The rest of the office follows, all clambering over each other to witness the commotion. Miguel groans and pinches the bridge of his nose, while Lyla gasps at the scene in front of her. The lunch club walks in, eyes wide before shifting their vision over to a very flustered you and Hobie, who's still a puddle on the floor with the mistletoe on his chest; they all give him a knowing smirk. Meanwhile the camera crew are running to check if the mounted cameras captured the scene.

“If you're hurt, you gotta file a worker's comp, Hobie.” Lyla shakes her head when Hobie dramatically groans as he stands up weakly. “C’mon, man, you know I'll still give it to you without all that.” Miguel glares at her. “Pretend you didn't hear that.” She tells him.

Miguel could only wave it off with a scoff and returns back to work. Hobie gives you a hand, but before you could reach for it, Harry returns and helps you off the floor himself, earning a glare from Hobie.

“Are you okay?” Harry asks you after lifting you off your feet. “Nothing damaged?”

You shake your head, “no, I'm fine, Hobie saved me.”

The two men meet each other's eyes. Their jaws are set, moreso with Hobie while Harry looks more annoyed.

“Are you sure you're okay, Hobie?” You crane your neck and take your attention away from Harry to gaze at Hobie worriedly.

He cups your elbow and gives you a genuine smile. You haven't realized that you missed him this much for your heart to beat as loudly as it is right now. “Yeah, ‘m fine, lovie. Just glad I was there to save you.”

Lyla looks between you and the two men sizing each other up. She glances at Gwen briefly as cameras capture their knowing stares. “Alright, show's over!” She claps her hands together and shoos people away. “Y/N, are you really okay?”

“Yeah, I was just clumsy and good thing Hobie was here to save the day.” You flick your eyes to meet his own gentle look. Harry stays behind you, hands tucked inside his pockets while Pavitr picks up the ladder off the floor. “I'm really okay, I need to finish this.”

Stepping to the side, you head towards the table again and take out the decorations robotically as snow drifts down on the frosty glass. You say thanks to Pav before he gives you a smile and heads back to his desk.

“Good, Brown and Osborne, come with me.” Lyla says sternly, you've never heard that tone coming from her before.

“What?” Hobie asks while he stretches his shoulder.

“Why?” Harry groans.

“Because I said so, now.” She pushes them outside, leaving you alone with Jessica and the cameras.

“Damn.” Jess relays what you had in mind.

“Couldn't have said it better myself.” You look at each other before returning to work like nothing happened. Or you like to pretend to at least.

—

You don't know what happened in Lyla's office with Hobie and Harry, but the two are now avoiding each other like the plague, even more than before. Harry stands near the plastic Christmas tree, nursing a red plastic cup filled with punch. His jaw is clenched, shoulders kept straight and aligned to the wall behind him. He looks like the grinch with all the holiday lights and decorations around him. A classic Christmas tune filters through the air while everyone chats around the room. It's peaceful, even Hobie, whose eyebrows were furrowed together when he first entered, is now happily filling his plate with food.

The camera crew stands on each end of the room, giving everyone space after a very irked Jessica told them to back off or she'll call security on them. You still have no idea why Miguel even lets them in to begin with. Or perhaps it's the big bosses on top who are letting them film for tax break purposes. There's nothing interesting to film in the company anyway— or at least one that doesn't include what happened earlier, or back at the bar, or in front of your apartment. Maybe they should just ask to film you instead of pretending they like documenting the day to day work of an electric toothbrush company. At least then you'd have enough money to have your own place.

Gayatri and Gwen are talking about their classes whilst you listen until Hobie saunters in with two glasses filled with eggnog, one bitten in between his teeth, and the other in his hand. And a filled plate that he has to juggle all together lest there's an accident on the old carpet. His button up is open to a more casual look, necktie nowhere to be seen, while his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, exposing a few tattoos along the way. You spot a spider on the underside of his elbow, and a music note near his wrist. For once you thank the bright fluorescent lights for showing them to you.

You side glance at him, unsure whether the drink was for you or not. He can't speak with the drink in between his lips, so he wordlessly tells you to grab the other cup in his hand simply with his eyes and a muffled call of your name. With a chuckle, you take the drink and he can finally speak as he releases the rim of the cup and places his plate beside a sweet smelling baking sheet of caramel fudge brownies.

“Thanks, Hobie.” You smile sweetly at him, and the two interns share a brief look.

“Where's ours?” Gwen interrupts Hobie before he could even say the two words.

“‘m not an octopus, Gwendy.” Hobie scrunches his nose at Gwen, sipping teasingly at his drink, leaving a milk mustache on his upper lip.

“Fine, chivalry truly is dead.” Gayatri sighs and takes Gwen's hand as they glare at him before heading towards the food table where Miles and Pavitr are talking beside a plate of mashed potatoes.

“Can you believe them?” Hobie nudges you and takes the space where the two women were.

“Maybe they really like eggnog.” You joke with a smile, sipping casually at the warm drink. It's creamy with a hint of warmth lining your tongue. “Oh, you got a little something…” pointing at your upper lip, he wipes at his mouth, miraculously missing the milk mustache. “No, right…” you take a handkerchief from your pocket and wipe it for him. “...here. There, you don't look like a baby anymore.”

For a moment, Hobie looks like a deer in the headlights. Blinking, he composed himself, smiling through the fog of shyness. “Got it all, love?”

“Yeah,” you say, leaning against the table as you two gaze at each other. You suddenly feel a wave of déjà vu. “T–The eggnog is really good, Hobie. Did you make it yourself?” In your flustered stupor, you try to make casual conversation as he stares at the handkerchief in your hand.

“It's Ned's recipe, but yeah I made it all by my lonesome. You kept my handkerchief?” He almost said breathlessly.

“Y–Yeah, you said I can keep it— but if you want it back.” You try to hand it to him but he chuckles and pushes the cloth back towards you.

“Nah, ‘m jus’ surprised you kept it.” Hobie scratches the back of his head,

You flick your eyes to the checkered handkerchief. “Thank you again.”

“Stop sayin' thanks, love, your smile’s enough for me.”

“Cheesy.” You say, muffled against the rim of your cup.

“What's that?” He plays along as his eyes glimmer.

“Nothing, I just said you're a cheese ball, Hobie Brown.” You tease with a lilt in your tone.

“Everyone fancies a cheeseball, don't you think?”

The two of you chuckle whilst the party continues to go on without the two of you. The snow stopped falling outside, covering the parking lot and street with a soft sheet of snow as the world seemed to come to a standstill. The gentle piano rendition of ‘jingle bells’ plays in the background, while the laughter of your co-workers instead of clacking keyboard filters through your ears. Hobie gazes at you with the same fondness back at the bar before you had to walk out in the cold. And you mirror his expression, lips curled into a subtle smile, body turned towards him as you two cradle matching cups of eggnog.

With liquid courage courtesy of the drink, you finally ask him. “How have you been, Hobie?”

“Fuckin' busy.” He sighs, hand placed inside his trousers pocket. “The show on the twenty fourth got us all bloody busy. The interns can't join so Yuri and the others have to work twice as hard without ‘em. I don't have a stand in though. That's why I've been out of it these past few weeks.” With the tip of his shoe, he nudges your heels. “I've been takin’ my lunch with the band just to get an extra hour of practice in. Why? Did you miss me?”

“No one can replace Hobie Brown.” You nudge him back, earning a wobbly smile from him. “And no, I had the lunch club to keep me company.”

“Well, shit, and ‘ere I thought you missed my presence.”

“I’m pretty sure that's called a delusion.”

Hobie laughs, a deep rumble that has the whole room staring briefly at him. And unfortunately, the cameras too. But for the first time, you don't mind all the eyes and lenses on you when his laughter fills your chest with warmth. And you're pretty sure it's not from the spiced eggnog.

He opens his mouth to say something, hand reaching for your elbow but before he could say it, Miguel calls for everyone's attention.

“Time for secret Santa, everyone gather around in a circle—”

“Ho! Ho! Ho!” Suddenly, out comes Lyla, dressed in a fluffy Mrs. Claus suit. It looks expensive to boot, and not like anything you see online. Does she use it every year? “I come bearing gifts!” She lifts up the giant velvet sack in her hands, barely lifted up from the weight of it. You remember that you had to put your present in the day before per Lyla's request. Your eyes nervously glance at the recipient of said gift.

Suddenly, Peter walks behind her, dressed as Santa, but in a blue suit rather than the iconic red. “We come bearing gifts!” He helps lift the sack over Lyla's head, earning an annoyed look from Lyla. It seems like they didn't talk about this beforehand.

Hobie shakes his head, smiling and clearly amused. “Fuckin' hell. C’mon, let's get our presents before Miguel gets to his fifth glass of eggnog.” Grabbing his plate, he slowly eats his way towards the slice of red velvet cake in the center that's crowded around by a mishmash of pastries and cold cuts. Your holiday cookies are piled up on his plate while he munches on poor frosty the snowman’s head. “It’s good.” He says, muffled by the cookie in his mouth. You chortle at him, lip bitten from tamping down a squeak of delight at his reaction.

You follow beside him, making a circle around Lyla and Peter. “Why, is Miguel a lightweight?”

“He gets to his sixth and he gets…chatty.” He offers you something on his plate, and since you already ate, you only took a mini muffin from it.

You can't imagine Miguel being chatty out of everyone whilst you munch on the tiny muffin. “Does he spill company secrets?”

“I wish, he talks ‘bout his personal life.”

“Ow, we better finish this quick then.”

You don't notice the way the interns are looking at the two of you from across the circle. Harry sidles up next to you on your left, biting into a kebab.

“Hey, Harry.” You smile at him.

“Hi, princess. Where'd you get the muffin?”

“From over…” Craning your neck to look for it on the table, you can't find the tiny muffins. “...I don't know actually.” You laugh unsurely. “I got it from Hobie.”

Hobie, without missing a second, says. “We're all out of it, bruv, that's the last one.”

Yep, definitely déjà vu.

Harry scoffs. “Right.”

You glance at the two of them as they avoid each other's line of sight. You really do feel like a referee whenever you're in between them.

“Alright, rules.” Peter says, and a groan echoes around the room. “Come on, we've got new people here so I gotta say it again. First of all, I hope none of you said who's your secret Santa before because you can only say that once after they open their present, capiche?” Another round of groans can be heard. “It's just not fun when everyone knows!” Everyone gives him an unenthusiastic nod. “Second, no second rule, just have fun!”

“That is the most dad thing I've ever heard.” Gwen says, and Peter dramatically frowns.

“It’s because I am a dad, Gwen!”

“Alright, enough, let's start because the lasagna isn't agreeing with me right now.” Miguel gruffly says, fifth drink in hand.

“Great,” Hobie says sarcastically. “‘Too much information' Miguel is ‘ere.”

Miguel scrunches his face and plops himself beside the dessert table. All without giving Hobie lip.

“Wow, he just accepted that.” You say, surprised.

“He gives up after his fourth drink.” Hobie bumps his elbow with yours as you two laugh. Unbeknownst to you, the camera is zooming in on Harry's disgruntled expression.

One by one, names are called to grab their presents. Some are happy about their gifts, like Miles, who got an old CB radio from Peter. But most are trying their best not to disappoint the person who got their name. Just like Gwen and her stuffed bunny rabbit gifted by someone in I.T. and like Miguel, who got a pair of airpods which Hobie reacted with a coughed out ‘arse kisser.’ No one dared to say who it's from after that. You have a feeling it's from Harry since he has a similar pair. It'll be revealed after everyone gets their presents anyway.

“Alright, this one is for… Hobie!” Peter exclaims as he hands the neatly wrapped present to him.

You bite your lip, fingers playing with the hem of your sweater as he opens the gift carefully. You only hope that he likes it since it took you so long to finish it.

Hobie whistles out as he admires the vintage leather jacket. “Damn.”

His finger skims over the metal buttons that you painstakingly polished and then over to the stitched holes that you carefully stitched to make different patterns of. You're not a seamstress of sorts, and you had to watch a sewing tutorial on how to make a lightning bolt simply with a needle and thread. The aches and blisters on your fingers are evidence of that. Turning the denim around, his eyes widen at his band logo that's stitched at the back. He recognizes it from a band t-shirt they used to give out. The fabric was cut from the front of it and then stitched on the back with neat running stitches. At the hem, his initials are painted in big bold letters.

“I said not to go over the limit.” Jess has had enough of the expensive gifts.

“I–I didn't.” You blurt out and everyone turns to you. Hobie included as his smile grows. “I thrifted the jacket and I made all the restoration myself. I didn't go over, it's even below the budget.”

“Okay, sorry about that.” Jess sighs, still clutching the hundred dollar gift card to some baby clothes shop. “Still,” she waves it around to make a point. “I see a pattern.”

“It's okay.” You resist the urge to meet with Hobie's eyes, or anyone's on that matter.

“You got this for me, lovie?” His voice is an octave higher, like he can't believe that you'd work so hard on a present just for him. Especially something that's so meaningful to him.

“Yep,” you pop the letter ‘p’ to hide your bashfulness. You finally gather the courage to look at him, finding that his warm honeyed eyes are looking at you softly that you forgot what just happened. “Do you like it?”

Harry side eyes the two of you, skimming over the band logo with a heavy look.

“I fuckin' love it.” Hobie says with a breathless sigh. “Where'd you even get the shirt? I lost mine years ago.”

“I asked MJ if she knew where to get it, she tried but couldn't find it so she told me to try talking to your band mates.” You nervously pick at your nail, rambling on. “Turns out Ned still had his.”

“Let me guess, he got you to pay a pretty penny for it, hm?”

You shake your head with a chuckle. “No, he gave it to me for free, as an apology for the bar. He's actually quite nice.”

“Good thing you asked him and not James. You picked the nicest one of us.”

“Please, you're plenty nice too.”

“‘m nice to those who deserve it, love.” He puts on the denim jacket, all the while watching you in the corner of his eyes. Thankfully, it fits him like a glove, except for the sleeve that's a few inches shorter, but he doesn't seem to mind while he has the biggest grin on his pierced lips. “How do I look?”

“You wear it well.” Is the only sentence you could manage that doesn't have the word ‘handsome’ or ‘gorgeous’ in it.

“Thank you, love.” He rubs the rough denim, smiling like a kid who just got what he wanted for Christmas. “It's perfect. I also have—” Your name gets called suddenly, interrupting his words.

“There you go, kiddo.” Peter hands you an expensive looking paper bag that's all tied with a sparkly navy blue ribbon.

“Oh, thanks.” You mumble out.

You were planning on opening it later after the party but since everyone opened theirs already, you suppose you had to. It feels like a birthday party of sorts where everyone’s singing you a happy birthday while you could only stare awkwardly at the candles on the cake. The cameras come around you, not trying to miss anything. Unwrapping the ribbon, and feeling like a goldfish inside a tank, you put your whole arm in the bag, feeling something smooth inside as you pull it out. The paper bag drops by your feet as you gasp at the gorgeous antique looking box in your hands. It's about the size of a textbook, it has some weight too.

“What's in the box!” Peter acts and you immediately get the reference to it. While most people rolled their eyes at it, you and Miles chuckled at the joke.

You run your thumb across the peony flower engraving around the metal clasp. It's well made, something you see at some expensive antique shop that looks like all the items are either cursed or haunted. Now you're afraid that when you open it famine and disease will escape out of it. But as you unclasp it, rows of vibrant paint tubes greets you. There's a handful of paint brushes along the top of it, by the looks of it, it's just as well made as the box. With a nervous chuckle, mouth agape, it seems that not just the bosses got the ‘arse kisser’ gifts.

Jess huffs but shrugs, accepting that people have gone over the price limit. At the end of the day, it's just a nice gesture.

“Who?” You instinctively look at Hobie, cheeks warm at the prospect of him being your secret Santa. But he just shakes his head, mouthing ‘not me.’ Then you look over to the group of interns and they all mirror Hobie's gesture.

A tap on your shoulder has you looking over to your left. Harry smiles softly at you, green eyes shining.

“Don't worry, I got it on sale.” He whispers to you, index poking the side of the box. “I saw your paint set back at your place, most of the tubes were almost finished so I thought I'd get you some new ones. This is what they call serendipity, I think. ”

“Harry,” you sigh out while everyone has moved onto you and your expensive looking gift over to Gayatri and her secret Santa present. “This is too much. I think there's every colour in here.”

“That just means you don't have to buy new ones for a while then.”

“I would've settled for just one tube.” You lean closer so as to not disturb the rest of the party with your conversation.

“Can't, you deserve all the colors of the rainbow.” Harry comes closer until his shoe kisses the side of your heels.

“This is definitely more than the rainbow, Harry.”

“You're welcome, princess.” He nudges you, hand lingering on your bicep.

Hobie swallows thickly next to you. The camera crew are eating it all up it seems.

Peter gasps as he lifts up his present, interrupting you and Harry. “It's a dragon onesie!” A crocheted one in fact as you chuckle at his reaction.

“It's for Mayday so don't try to wear it, mate—” A strained cough roars above the merriment.

Everyone looks over to the source where Miguel is hacking out a rough cough, a swollen hand clasped around his neck as he wheezes out. A caramel brownie falls from his other hand, rolling across the floor. Your eyes widen with panic as he keels over on the carpeted floors, bumping on the dessert table as food tumbles out and decorations falling while he's still coughing.

“Shit! He's choking!” Jessica runs over to him, palm slapping Miguel's back.

Everyone crowds around Miguel in a panic. His lips are swollen, eyes red as he continues to choke.

“I'm calling an ambulance.” Gayatri has the right idea and dials the number.

“Move over!” Harry speed walks behind Miguel, arms wrapping around his middle and trying to do the Heimlich maneuver on him.

Gasps echo around, worry and panic setting in.

“He needs CPR!” Peter argues with Harry and Jessica while Gayatri’s frantic call to emergency services roams above the voices.

Hobie crouches down, grabbing the fallen brownie on the ground and smells it. The harsh lights of the crew and their added space makes the situation worse and claustrophobic. Not an ideal environment for someone who can't breathe.

“What—?” You ask and Hobie has a lightbulb moment.

“Peanuts! There's bloody peanuts in this!”

You immediately push people away and bolt over to your desk, rummaging through your bag for the orange cap and leaving the paint box on your table.

“Does anyone have an epipen?!” Jessica yells in a panic, but you're already pushing Peter away from trying to do CPR on Miguel as the needle meets Miguel's thigh in a quick and practiced motion from you.

Within a second, Miguel inhales deeply, colour returning to his lips. His fingers and lips are still swollen, but at least he's breathing much better now.

“Holy shit!” Harry exclaims, eyes darting over to Miguel and over to you with something flitting across his expression.

“Holy shit.” Hobie says breathlessly, mirroring the same expression on Harry's face. You can't quite get a good read on them as you heave, hand still clasp around the epipen. Are they impressed or something?

“Damn, newbie.” Lyla pats your shoulder, then a round of applause follows around. You almost cower from embarrassment.

You look at Hobie, who's still fixated on you. “I always have one on me since MJ’s also allergic to peanuts.” You explain since he might be wondering why you carry it around. He smiles at you, eyes twinkling. “Keep that in mind, Hobie.” You say since they spend a lot of time together.

“Sure, l–love, whatever you say.” He stammers out, crouched across from you. Even when everyone pats you for a job well done, he can't keep his eyes off you.

“Nice save, princess.” Harry says, nodding and grinning at you.

“F–Fuck.” Miguel groans out a laboured exhale, head slowly lifting up. “Thank you.” You curtly nod at him, pride filling your chest.

“Alright, everyone, give Miguel some space!” Jessica shoos people put. “He needs some air.” The documentary crew gladly filters out and weirdly happy that they got some interesting footage. A bit fucked up, you thought.

“He still needs to go to the hospital.” You say as Hobie helps you up on your feet. Miguel is still on the floor while Jessica and Lyla tend to him.

“Ambulance is on the way.” Gayatri nudges you as the group gazes down at Miguel. “What else do you have on you, girl scout?”

“Narcan and antihistamines.”

“Shit,” the lunch club gasps in tandem.

“Remind me to always bring you when I go out to dinner at the seafood place.” Gwen shoves you lightly with a smile as you mirror her expression.

“Does this mean the party's over?” Peter asks and everyone just stares at him.

��

“Love, wait!” Hobie runs after you, sliding on the ice as he tries to keep himself on his feet. You stop and open your arms to catch him mid slide. He collides against you in a flurry of snow and giggles. “Sorry!” He laughs in your arms and he feels warm despite the weather.

“What's got you running on ice?” You laugh, a puff of smoke filtering from your cold lips. Your hands are still on him, and his touch lingers for a second before he pulls his backpack out and grabs a wrapped present inside. “Secret Santa's over.” It's merely a whisper as you stare at the brightly wrapped gift with ballpoint doodles all over it.

“I know, I jus’ wanted to give you somethin'.” He inhales, eyes bright and soft under the glare of the snow. The denim jacket is tucked under his thick coat, peeking under it and you smile at the thought of him loving it so much that he's still wearing it.

“You don't have to, Hobie. I told you that I already forgave you.”

His palm rests above your own. “It's not an apology present. You're my mate, and I give presents to my mates.”

There's warmth behind your eyes as you lean over and hug him without second thought. Hobie embraces you back, chin tucked on your shoulder while he smells like eggnog and cookies.

“You haven't opened it yet.” He chuckles, breath fanning the shell of your ear.

“I know.” Moving away, his hands hover around your sides for a second or two before fully leaning away. “I just wanted to say thank you. You made working here bearable.”

Hobie inhales shakily as he stares into your eyes. “You make it sound like you're leaving.”

“Not leaving just yet, Hobie. I've got rent and debts to pay.” You hug the soft present against your chest, his smile doesn't leave his lips while he gazes softly at you. “Can I open it here or…?”

“You can open it.” He says immediately, chuckling nervously while he scratches the back of his neck. “It's something for the concert on the twenty fourth so you don't have to borrow anymore.” Sniffing, he gestures at the present with his head. “You're still goin’ right?”

“Of course. You and MJ have been working hard on it. I won't miss it, I promise.” Your words have him grinning even more.

Carefully unwrapping the present and unfurling the blue crêpe paper, a black crocheted cardigan greets you. The soft thread has sparkles weaved around it, and when the light hits it, the whole thing almost glows. You choke on a gasp.

“Shit, did you make this?” You ask, impressed and happy.

“I did, I hope it fits because I jus’ fuckin' eyeballed it.” Hobie says with a bit of nervousness. “Look at that, you gave me a jumper and I gave you one. It's serendipitous.” He chuckles out the last word. “It's not a leather one, but I think this suits you.”

You can't help but reach for him and hug him again. “You’re right, it looks comfy. Thank you, Hobie, I love it.”

He pats your back, and you can feel his face tug into a smile. “‘course, love.”

A car horn honks behind you, and Harry rolls down his window, waving you over impatiently. You and Hobie unlatch yourselves away, and with him holding you at arm's length.

“In a bit!” You gesture back as you turn towards Hobie one more time. Not knowing what to say next, you could only bite your lip bashfully with a smile. “Thank you again, Hobie. I'll see you at the concert.”

“Bye, lovie.” You begin to walk away but he calls you back. “Oi,” he gets your attention and Harry's. “Drive carefully, yeah?” You realize that he's talking to Harry and not to you.

“I always drive carefully, Hobs.” Harry scoffs, getting out of his car as snow crunches underfoot. He goes around the hood to open the passenger side and waits for you.

Hobs?

“‘course you do, prick.” Hobie says under his breath while you enter the passenger side and give him one last wave.

Harry glares at him while he returns to the driver's seat. Rolling up his window, he turns to you, eyes softening as you meet his eyes. “Ready to go?” He glances briefly at the cardigan in your hands.

“Yeah.” Your smile doesn't fade.

—

The concert wasn't what you thought it would be. Instead of a dark bar with crusty seats and sticky floors, you stand in a decent domed concert hall that has food vendors to the side together with the various band merchandise. Both teenagers and adults attend the event, smiling and listening to a pop group playing on stage. There's still bright lights flickering in and out, spotlights shining around while the sound system booms and bounces all over the walls. Above the stage, a banner reads 'F.E.A.S.T. annual children's hospital benefit.’ Now you feel silly when you first thought that you'll once again tread around a bar.

“Are you sure you want to come here instead of the movies, princess?” Harry loops his arm around your hips, palm resting atop your side comfortably. “They have 4D. Y’know the ones that spray water on your face.”

“It's a charity, Harry.” You hold the back of his hand, craning your neck to look at him.

The first ‘dinner’ wasn't just a regular celebration dinner at all. Turns out it was an actual date, and you only realized it when he picked you up from your place and handed you a sweet smelling bouquet of flowers. He did the whole thing too, opened the car door for you, pulled the chair for you. Shared a slice of cake for dessert with you, and even secretly paid for the whole meal when he said that he was only going to the bathroom. He was sweet the entire time, a lot more talkative outside of work and the regular car rides, but a good date nonetheless. Immediately after walking you to your front door, he asks for another date with a sheepish smile. You said yes. You did promise MJ that you'll try. So try, you did. Then after a coffee date, you two went to a drive in theatre. The next thing you know, you two are already on your fifth date. Or is it your fifth? You lost count after the butterfly sanctuary date.

You haven't kissed him, apart from a chaste peck on the cheek, there's no lip locking. And he hasn't asked for it nor made a move to kiss you either. It's alright though, you're still not ready to seal the deal just yet. Maybe it has something to do with today, or maybe with a certain someone. You like Harry enough, but there's a nagging feeling on the back of your head for some reason.

“I know, it's just— you know what, this is nice.” Harry relents and pecks your temple. That'll need some getting used to. “I saw a Korean corn dog stand over there, do you want one?”

You're too distracted from looking for the band and Hobie's familiar gait. “Yeah, sure, Harry.” Turning back to him, you squeeze his hand. “I'll wait for you at the front.”

“You sure?” With a nod from you, he unwraps his arm from your side. “I guess I'll call you if we get separated.”

“Yeah, I'll be fine. This isn't like the bar.”

Chuckling, he pats the small of your back before walking towards the food stalls. And you see the familiar camera crew looking around, befuddled and looking lost. You immediately, yet subtly walk away, hoping that the crowd will help camouflage you.

As you make your way towards the front, you see MJ's familiar head of red hair. “MJ!”

She turns around, squealing and bounding towards you. “You made it!” Hugging you, she squeezes the life out of you. “Is that new?” Her eyes flick over to the black sparkly cardigan you have on.

“Yeah, it was a gift.” You hold her at arm's length as she bounces on the balls of her feet excitedly. The rest of her band stands behind her, all visibly excited as they give you a friendly yet quick greeting. “Remember to breathe, we don't want a repeat of the talent show.”

MJ rolls her head back and groans audibly. “Don't remind me! I still have nightmares from it! Good fucking thing we're not on for a little while.”

“Oh, I thought you guys were playing first before Hobie's band?”

“Change of plans apparently. They get to go on first.” She says as the spotlights go wild after the band playing on stage bows to the clapping crowd.

“Where are they anyway—?”

“So where's the new guy, huh? I need to see if he's hot so he can get my approval.” She tugs you to her side, bouncing up and down.

“He's not my— he's buying me a corndog.”

“A man after your own heart, I love that.” She pokes your chest.

You rub the point where she poked you. “Yeah, I guess so. Where's Hobie, I need to wish him luck—?”

A loud guitar riff bounces around the walls, signaling the band's arrival. The lights turn blood red, and the crowd goes wild at the sight.

Hobie looks stunning under the light, wicks pulled together in a ponytail, top almost sheer as it shimmers in the spotlight. His pants are tight and flared at the bottom, all tied together by silver accents, a belt that has a spider on the buckle, and numerous rings and necklaces on him. But most of all, the jean jacket you gifted him fits perfectly on him. He put his own spin on it, adding his own flair with a few buttons and patches while the sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. It all made you smile.

MJ screams each band member's name, voice cracking when she yells Yuri's name. Her band follows behind, fully screaming out together with the audience. MJ leads you towards the front to see them better, clutching your arm tightly and grinning brightly.

“Hobie!” She screams at the top of her lungs, earning a guffaw from you. “She made it!” Pointing at your head, your heart almost lurches in your chest when his eyes meet yours.

Immediately, the nonchalant look turns soft for you. But as quick as it came, he cranks his charm to a hundred and winks at you. A few people shriek, thinking that the wink was intended for them. You aren't sure if it was even for you.

The lights make his eyes glow bright red, skin looking like it's on fire as he shreds his guitar. Yuri's almost haunting singing voice adds to your swirling thoughts.

“Let's go, Hobie!” You add to the screaming fans, cupping your mouth with your hands for added volume. It has Hobie almost cracking a smile as you see his lips tug up, and he's clearly fighting with it as he swallows.

MJ guffaws, following your cheer with another.

“Hey,” Harry appears beside you, eyes flicking over to the band briefly before turning to you. “They ran out of corndogs!” He yells above the music.

You miss how Hobie sneered at the sight.

“That's okay!” You grin, yelling back. “Just enjoy the music, Harry!”

“Yeah,” he nods, and you feel his hand wrap around your own. It's not weird in the slightest since you two held hands before. “You must be MJ!” Harry leans in front of you, making you stand on your tiptoes to see Ned playing on the drums.

“What?! Oh you're the guy!” MJ does the same, shaking his hand. “Nice to meet you! You better take care of my girl!” You almost shush them both.

“I will, don't worry!” Harry nods and reciprocates MJ's fist bump.

MJ stands back up, “I approve.” She whispers into your ear, giving you a thumbs up.

You chuckle, putting your arm over her back to half hug her. You wonder if Hobie can see the three of you clearly while he's on stage. Or if he knows that he's got people rooting for him. MJ hoots and hollers, and you feel a hand cupping your cheek, moving your head towards Harry's face.

“Yeah, you okay?” You ask him, smiling until you feel his lips on your own. And the sound of a wrong guitar chord squeaks out.

[risingoftime]

A NIGHT TO REMEMBER ⟡ HOBIE BROWN

Hobie runs into you after his show at the local pub. The both of you haven’t seen each other since the phone call and things get steamy in the alleyway.

a/n: thank you so much for all the love on the part i! wrote this on my train ride home. hopefully i can make more time to write₊˚ෆ 18+

part i | part ii

It was hard to avoid Hobie after the previous night's incident when you worked at the pub the Spider-Slayers performed. They were given residency after you introduced the band to your uncle, the owner. The band gained popularity through you, and the pub was always packed on Friday nights due to them. They were making your job that much more hectic. The music made your ears ring, and the bass from Hobie’s guitar vibrated through your whole body. Hobie mainly wrote the piece for the Spider-Slayers, and It was as if you could feel the passion he put into every song. You filled pints of beer and fulfilled orders at a record-setting speed. You were one of the top bartenders at the pub, and the tips reflected that. It could also be the push-up bra and revealing tops helping you along the way, but you liked to think it was your charming personality. Tonight, you wore a mini skirt, so the tips were even more generous than before. 

Punk rock blasted from outside the bar as you lugged the trash from the back door into the alleyway. Once everything was discarded, you reached into the side of your bra and dumped the receipts with phone numbers from customers who failed attempts to hit on you. 

“Hope you’re not throwing out my digits as well.” 

Hobie leaned against the stonewall, observing you casually with a crooked smile. He wore his signature studded leather vest, fingers clad with chunky rings, and his guitar strapped behind his back. Hobie sent your senses in a craze, flashbacks of last night with his lewd moans and whimpers flooded your mind. Hearing Hobie softly whisper your name through the phone made it impossible for you not to satisfy your dirty desires. Last night you fucked yourself shamelessly with your fingers alongside Hobie. Urging your fingers to go deeper than they can. His words edged you closer to a climax that you never reached.

Things got cut short when you were caught red-handed. The moment you heard “Hello, love.” You panicked and ended the call without a second thought. You knew that, regardless, you’d have to face Hobie the next day. And here he stood in all glory, waiting for your response. His statement was dubbed as innocent, but you knew better. You gave him a pointed glare and smiled sweetly before meeting his earthy brown eyes. 

“Who said I had your number to begin with?”

Hobie took a couple of steps closer towards you, closing the gap between the both of you with these long strides. “After last night, I would’ve assumed it was saved.” He adjusted a loose curl that was out of place on your head, using any excuse to touch you. “It takes more than that to gain a spot in my cell,” you stated. 

“Oh, yeah?” Hobie placed his hands on the brick wall on either side of your head, trapping you in one spot. His face was mere inches away so that you could see his piercings and striking features up close. The image of him you conjured last night was no competition for the real deal. Keeping eye contact made breathing hard, with your heart beating so loudly that it rang in your ears. “Yeah,” your voice came out an octave higher and shaky; You could barely be heard over the music coming from inside. But Hobie still heard it loud and clear. 

“Can I change your mind?” Hobie was now barely inches away from your face. You could smell the mint on his breath from the gum that he was chewing earlier on stage. Before you could pause to think clearly about what you agreed to, your head nodded on its own accord. Hobie unzipped and unbuckled his pants swiftly with one hand.  His hands began to slip under your skirt. The mere feel of your bare skin made Hobie’s dick throb. He pulled your underwear down just enough to rub his tip against your clit in circular teasing motions. The warm contact of his skin along your folds was a sensation you’d been craving. You both marvelled at how wet you had become from the simple movement. Your clit pulsates with each brush of his dick. Hobie’s breath hitched as he held back a soft whimper. 

He planted small kisses at first, his breathing growing heavy. Until his lips entirely overtook your own, the cold feel of his lip ring felt amazing. Inviting him to deepen the kiss, you could feel his tongue moving against yours while he guided his dick dangerously close to your hole. Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around Hobie and played with the curls on the nape of his neck.  

Hobie only broke the kiss to hoist you up against the wall. “Hobie—“ you gasped out. You couldn’t hide the shock at his strength and capabilities to balance your weight swiftly. “Shhh, just let me… I just need….” Hobie couldn’t even complete his sentence as he guided his erection to your entrance. He took his time entering inside you, allowing you to adjust to his thick length. Hobie was bigger than you had imagined. 

“God, you’re taking me in so well,” Hobie groaned as he watched his cock go in and out of your pussy. His member was already glistening from your wetness. His calloused hands gripped your ass firmly while he did so. Fuck, you were like putty in his hands. “I want this pussy all to myself,” he said more to himself than to you. Hobie’s eyes glazed over as you moaned in his ear, “It's all yours.”

Hobie’s head lowers onto your shoulder as gentle groans fall from his lips. He left small kisses and love bites on your neck as he pummeled into your pussy. All that could be heard in the alley was your moans and the music wavering from the bar. “Shit, Hobie—you feel so…” You've never experienced something like this. The way Hobie filled you and stroked your walls made your pussy wetter the longer he continued. Your legs were wrapped around his waist as he thrust into your creamy pussy. 

You tightened your walls around his dick and gripped Hobie’s shoulders for balance. Hobie fought to hold back his orgasm whilst whispering “cum for me” against your lips. It’s as if he was stripping your defences one by one. You didn’t resist him, wholly at his mercy, to fuck you how he pleased. Your convulsing orgasm ran through the both of you like a warm current. At that moment, all that existed was just you two. Grasping bodies and breathing in each other's air like it was your last. If Hobie wasn't holding you up, you knew you'd slump down from weariness. No one has made you cum like that. 

Hobie pulled out of you hurriedly; his dick remained hard, and yearned for more. Still, in a daze and with shaky legs, he gently lowered you onto your feet. 

“Make sure you save my number this time.”

[jewel-pixelheart]

Get to know "Caegma" - My OP OC x Canon couple ♡

I decided to put all the information you must know about Magma and Caesar's relationship here ♡

Before starting, I advise you to take a look at Magma's reference sheet! This way, you'll discover the biography of my OC before reading about her relationship with Caesar. 

If you are ready, let's start ♡

From The MADS to Punk Hazard: 

Magma was found by the MADS when she was still a child, just after she accidentally destroyed her island with her radiations. At the time, this institute presented itself as "research lab for peace", and was led by Vegapunk. 

When Magma and Caesar first met, she was 7 yo while he was 16 yo. At the beginning Caesar was annoyed by Magma. I mean, she was always around him, asking questions about what he was working on... But you know, as a curious child, she only wanted to learn from him after all. 

Years passed, and they become friends. Caesar wasn't annoyed by her presence anymore. In fact, she was probably the only person who believed in his research and talent. (Keep in mind that Magma was still young/a teen, and easily believed what Caesar told her about him being the best scientist around.) Plus, Magma is by nature very compassionate. Her parents raised her with love and kindness until they died during the accident.

Overall, her admiration and support was what made Caesar enjoy her presence (as nothing more than a friend of course!!!). Plus, Magma developed a real gift for sciences, making her even more interesting to spend time with. 

When the MADS were dissolved by the World Government, Magma was 20 yo and Caesar 29 yo. Since then, they have started to work together on Punk Hazard (along side Vegapunk). It is only 2 years later that Magma started to surprisingly feel romantic feelings toward Caesar. But, it took her 2 more years to finally confess her feelings to him. As for Caesar, he never felt/noticed he had any romantic feelings for his friend until she clearly told him she loves him. Her declaration makes him realised she was probably the only one who ever cared about him after all. 

Then, they spent 20 whole years as a couple. Magma was Caesar's number one fan and always supported him no matter what. She is basically a ray of sunshine and always takes the time to take care of him. As I already mention above, Magma is compassionate. She believes in good in people and try her best to look after her loved ones. (Though she was naive to think Caesar's research wasn't dangerous…) 

As for Caesar, he cannot keep from falling in love with her. Magma was the only one who could listen to his ideas, and believed in his capacities without mocking at him. She was the sweetest girl he could have found on this earth. Since Caesar loves to be the center of attention, with Magma he truly was. He was always the one demanding to have her on this side. 

Well, this was until the incident on Punk Hazard… 

After the Incident on Punk Hazard, until 2 years before the Timeskip: 

The day of the incident, Magma chose to join Vegapunk's side and stop Caesar's crazy experimentation. Unfortunately, this hasn't stopped him to launch his powerful poison gas that devastated the island. Powerless, Magma was knockout and disappeared in the chaos. 

When Caesar came back on Punk Hazard, Magma was still here. Fortunately for him, she lost a part of her memory and didn't remember who caused the explosion. Grabbing the opportunity to take his lover back on his side, Caesar lied, telling her it was all Vegapunk's fault. Disappointed, Magma didn't know what to think anymore… 

During 2 years, Magma will help Caesar to save the former prisoners. Although she has lost her memory, she couldn't stop thinking Caesar could have lied to her. He was more distant and tried several times to hide his experiments from her. At this point, Magma started doubting him.

Their relationship slowly started to break down… 

2 years later, Magma's memories came back. Remembering the truth, she confronted Caesar. Unfortunately, she wasn't strong enough to face him (Well, she wasn't capable of hurting him). Now trapped in Punk Hazard, Magma had no choice but stay prisoner. (The power of her Devil Fruit was an asset for Caesar, who decided to keep her.) 

During these 2 years before the Timeskip, Magma will refuse to talk to Caesar. She will withdraw into her shell, upset, desperate, and betrayed by the man she loved. On the other hand, Caesar will blame her for what happened. After all, she shouldn't have chosen to stand against him if she truly loved him. 

After the Timeskip, until the current events of OP:

2 years later, the Straw Hat crew sailed to Punk Hazard, causing the end of Caesar experimentations. After what, Magma was released from her captivity, alongside the children. Because she felt responsible for Caesar crimes, she decided to join Luffy and his crew on their journey to keep an eye on him. 

During their adventures on Dressrosa, Zou and Whole Cake, Magma and Caesar took the time to take stock on their relation. Both of them felt betrayed by the other, and were not determined to forgive their better half. Even though, this wasn't as easy as they thought it will be.

Magma couldn't bring herself to hate Caesar (I assure you she tried very hard to). But I mean… She spent 39 years of her life at his side, and 20 years as his lover. She truly loved him. On the other side, Caesar kinda felt the same as he quickly realized how much he missed her and her kind gestures. 

When Caesar chooses to stay in Germa Kingdom and established the NEO MADS alongside Judge, Magma leave him to travel to Egghead (since she wanted to see Vegapunk again after 4 long years).

At the moment, their relationship status is unknown/complicated. What is sure, is that they still feel something for each over, but they both chose to followed a different path (for now). 

------------------‐--------------------------------

As always, if you have any questions, do not hesitate to ask me (my Ask Box is open).

If you want to see more content about Magma: click here ♡

[crazyk-imagine]

Gym Time and Shopping Trips

Pairing: William "Will" "Ironhead" Miller x Retired pilot! Mom!reader

Characters: Retired pilot! Mom!reader, William "Will" "Ironhead" Miller, Benny Miller, Francisco "Catfish" Morales, Santiago "Pope" Garcia, Isabela (Frankie's daughter), Reader's daughter (unnamed), Tanya (Will's ex-fiancée)

Warnings: Fluff, new side of will, the gf affect, Benny being a punk, Santiago slutting it up at the gym, Frankie is tired of everyone's shit, this turned out cuter than I expected, the date scene is short, Frankie and reader being besties, the girls know what's up without the adults telling them

Word Count: 2,342

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

Will regrets coming down with him, after bargaining with the security to make sure Santiago doesn’t get banned for life and Frankie running home to pick up his little girl so his babysitter could pick up her little girl from daycare; he was tired.

He appreciates the fact that Benny invites him to go and hang out but it’s not like it used to be ever since his brother finally got the guts to ask out his “crush”.

They’re always together, which doesn’t matter; he’s happy Benny’s happy but it does make for some awkward moments especially when the two-start making out or show how affectionate they are for one another.

It’s times like these that make him feel the loneliest, something he doesn’t think about often, even more so when Benny and his girlfriend start making more couple plans.

Will tends to overthink and gets lost in his thoughts, sitting at home alone doesn’t help either. He pushes himself off the couch, leaving whatever he was using as background noise to keep playing and heads into the kitchen.

He opens the fridge and finds a few items he could potentially use to make a meal but knows it won’t end well and searches for beer, needing a little something to help ease him after tossing and turning all night. He sighs because he needs to go grocery shopping and because he’s reminded of the nightmare he had about Tom and his ex-fiancée, Tanya.

The incident on the mountain and her telling him she’s leaving mingled into one torturous memory, she “said” she was leaving him because he let the man from the village kill Tom and she’s scared he’ll hurt her because he lost it in the grocery store.

-

He’s lost in his thoughts, mindlessly looking around the dairy section, only to stop as his body jolts. His eyes travel forward to find you, profusely apologizing.

“-rry, again. I wasn’t paying attention and I thought I had more room before I bumped into anything. Are you okay?”

He doesn't say anything, this honestly feels like the beginning of his nightmares; everything starts off all nice and before he knows it, it's terrible and he wakes up out of breath, tired, and unable to fall asleep.

"Uh," he starts before he realizes how stupid he sounds and gets into action. "I'm fine, it's no problem."

"No, it's not." You stand in front of him, staring at him. "I was taught to always make up for your mistakes and if I'm not mistaken," you check him up and down, remembering the meetings. "Miller, you were too. Let me at least buy something and we'll call it even."

He furrows his brows. "How did you-"

“I’ve been to a meeting or two of yours in the past. You were better than the other speakers I’ve heard before. Your words actually got through to people.”

You pull your phone out from your back pocket and check it, only to find a text from your babysitter sending out an emergency text because your little girl is sick and wants her mama. You breathe heavily through your nose. "Sorry again but I've got to go."

He watches as you rush over to the register and pay for your groceries. "Maybe next time?" He mutters to himself. He shakes his head, knowing he needs to stop looking before someone thinks he's being a creep.

He finishes off the night with a quick reply of Benny's shitty apology about why he was going to be late which then turned into a pitiful excuse for him essentially ditching his brother.

He doesn't see the usual scene that is the beginning of his nightmare, wasn't as bad as it could have been. He didn't wake up drenched in sweat, which hasn't happened for a long time and he's thankful to have finally gotten a decent night's sleep but the person in the dream concerns him.

He heads to the gym, knowing Benny's already there somewhere. It didn't take long for him to find his brother since he was still in his car, talking to his girl and scaring him wasn't part of the plan but he couldn't deny it and say that it wasn't fun because it was, it made him feel like a kid again.

Benny heads over to his usual training area and Will aims to get started on a little training of his own, needing to let off a little steam today.

Then Frankie's laughter pulls him out of his thoughts, and he turns around to find you talking with one of his friends. He didn't think things could get any weirder than right now.

"Does Fish have a girlfriend?" Benny teases him.

The man rolls his eyes, "no, she's just Isabela's best friend's mom. The girls want to have a sleepover soon. They've been begging us forever."

"So?"

The ex-pilot shoves the younger Miller, no longer in the mood to talk.

"Oh, come on. I was just kidding."

Frankie smiles, "I know." And pulls him into a headlock.

They struggle for a few minutes with Benny whining and begging for his older brother to help him (it doesn't persuade Will).

Then, something even better catches his eye, you. This is not what he was expecting to see today. 'Have you always been around here?' He wonders.

You're so into your workout and don't notice him staring, or maybe you do and don't want to acknowledge it. You push yourself harder, still finding it so hard to get him out of your head, making you feel like a schoolgirl; you thought you were past this.

You huff, remembering the meeting he gave a few months ago and didn’t give much thought to how he looked, sure he’s cute but you weren’t expecting to have an especially steamy dream about him... that night.

Benny breaks free from his friend and aims for you.

A tap on your shoulder and the younger Miller is hunched over and trying to catch his breath.

He’s more intrigued to know more about you after that. He knows Benny can handle himself but just seeing you take him down in less than two minutes was priceless.

Frankie shakes his head, “you’re an idiot.” He turns to you. “I told him not to come up to you.”

You take out your ear buds, “you told me about how your friends with idiots, but I didn’t think it was that bad.”

He chuckles, “hey, come on. Give the guy a break, he’s got a match later tonight.”

"So, he'll become even dumber."

"Hey!"

You turn to the fighter.

"We don't know each well enough for you to hash on me." You can't help but chuckle. "Fair enough."

Will stands back, watching as you interact with his brother and friend, seeing how you fit in so well.

"Doesn't he have a brother?" You ask Frankie.

Benny smiles and pulls his brother closer, hooking his arm around the back of his neck. "That'd be this guy here. We call him Will."

The man barely makes eye contact with you, which amuses you knowing he is one to always make eye contact and acknowledge the other person whether he wants to or not.

You smirk, "I know."

Benny raises a brow.

Santiago walks up, smiling as he tucks his phone back into his pocket, feeling exceptionally proud of the number he got. "What'd I miss?"

"Frankie made a friend."

"Someone who's not one of us. I'm- wow."

Frankie shakes his head, feeling like he should have become friends with completely different people. "Only because of our daughters and our piloting era's."

"You're a pilot too?" Santiago asks, wondering if you'd be interested in helping him (with future missions, or getting the rest of the cash, whatever comes first).

"I did, retired now." You pull your phone out of your pocket and check to see what time it is. "It's almost time for me to pick her up."

You raise your head, "I gotta go guys. It was nice talking to you all though." You glance back at the older Miller, "I still owe you a drink. Maybe sometime tomorrow?"

"Yeah," he clears his throat. "Yeah, that'd be fine. We can- I can do that."

"Morales, give him my number." You run back to your locker and throw your sweatshirt on (even if you're still a bit sweaty and hot).

You'd rather not deal with other people staring at you while you're stopped at a red light and your eyes are wandering, leading to judgment.

"Is it just me or does Will look like he's got a date," Benny says.

"Hell yeah, he does." Santiago pats the older brother's arm.

"She seems like- uh- like she's quite the catch too. I mean, if anyone knows anything it'd be him."

Will shrugs his brother off him.

Frankie waves the two away, knowing someone should talk to him and not interrogate him. “You two go over there.” He turns back to the older man. “If I ask, what that was, would you answer me?”

The man sighs, “her cart ran into mine at the store and she said that she had to buy me something as a way to pay me back.”

Frankie nods. “I mean, I told her she doesn’t have to.”

He glances back at his friend and realizes that he’s smiling. “What’s that look for?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Did you know her before your little girl went to school or something?”

“I was telling the truth when I said we met through the girls. We just- we talked, and we got to know each other more.” He nudges the blond's side with his elbow. "She's not gonna give up."

"Really?"

The ex-pilot nods, "you two would be good for one another."

-

You turn your phone on, letting the food mingle together and find a surprising text from your favorite speaker.

Unknown

"Hey, it's Will" Sent Read 5:47pm

"If you're still up for that drink, I know a good place" Sent Read 5:54pm

You turn to your daughter, smiling in a different way than you ever did before (something your little girl kept to herself).

-

You walk into the place and head out to the back like he said, finding you almost immediately.

“Hey.”

He looks up and doesn’t say anything.

“Are you okay?”

He shakes his head, standing up from his chair to pull out yours. “You just- you look amazing.”

You squirm in your seat, “really?”

“I think you already know that I don’t lie.”

“True. Now, tell me about yourself.”

“What do you want to know?” He hasn’t done this in a while and really doesn’t want to mess things up. He slowly realizes how much he likes you.

“What are you comfortable telling me?”

Will understands why you and Frankie get along so well.

You two look over the menu.

“Is there anything you don’t like or are allergic too?” You ask him. “Oh, sorry,” you say when you see his look. “Sometimes I swear I can’t turn off my mom brain?”

“No, no. It’s nice, I don’t think I’ve ever gone out with someone who made sure they got something they liked and not try to kill me.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“Then you wouldn’t believe half of the things I’ve said already.”

"Just gives you more of a reason to talk to me, right?"

Will doesn't think he's been on a date this fun, ever. "I guess you're right."

-

The end of the night was something neither of you wanted to come to.

"I guess this is it," you shrug.

"I guess so."

You pull your keys out of your bag and aim to unlock the door. He stops you, his warm and large hand slowly drawing your arm back, sliding down to hold your hand.

"I'd like to go out with you again."

"Yeah?" You ask, unable to hold back your smile.

"I really enjoyed our date. This time I'll owe you a drink."

"Damn right you will."

"I don't want to keep any longer than I have."

"You're right." He leans down and pecks your cheek before pulling away.

You turn and open the door which conveniently has Frankie standing right there. "You got her back safe and sound, have a good rest of your night, Will."

As soon as he pulls out of the driveway, your soon to be bestie bombards you with questions. "How was it? You gonna see each other again?"

You groan and head towards your room, throwing your jacket and purse onto your bed. "God man. I just got back. Hold the questions till tomorrow."

"But I won't get all the important details then."

"I'm not telling."

-

A few days later you two were enjoying yourselves, including one another in your workouts before his brother or anyone else could come.

You pick up the pace on the treadmill, trying to ignore the man beside you. You sigh and look at him, unable to hide your amusement. "Can you stop staring at me for two minutes?"

"No."

You're ready to tell him to go off and do his own thing when you hear your little girl calling you. You turn it off and catch her before she could run into your legs. "Hi, baby."

And then Frankie's girl pops up, enjoying the extra height as she settles in her uncle Will's arms. "This is my uncle Will."

"You're the one that makes my mama smile."

You avoid his gaze and focus on her.

"I do?"

Both girls' nod.

"Even daddy says so."

"Does he?"

Frankie's little girl nods. "Mmhmm."

"Hey guys."

You greet the flirty man.

"Did she tell you her infamous joke?" He asks you.

"No, why?"

"I assumed that's why you're flushed."

"Shut up."

Frankie pops up out of nowhere. "Seems like you guys are having fun."

"I'm ditching you guys."

"Nope," Will smiles at you with mischief in his eyes. "I was your ride." 

-

Taglist

@casa-boiardi @kmc1989

[wrestlingisfake]

Spent a few days mulling over Tony Khan's decision to air the CM Punk/Jack Perry footage. But my gut feeling hasn't changed. This won't help AEW unless it convinces everyone Punk was 1000% in the wrong that day, and I don't believe it will.

What's clear is that the footage was reviewed by various parties within AEW--including lawyers--and it was damning enough that they could fire Punk without paying the rest of his contract. But that doesn't mean showing the footage will persuade wrestling fans to reject Punk's "a man's got to do what a man's got do" approach to conflict resolution.

I don't know if any of the footage can back up Khan's claim that he feared for his life during the incident. Punk rejected that claim, but I doubt he disputes the reports that he "lunged" at Tony. It's more likely that Punk simply thinks a "real" man would have no reason to be afraid in that moment. In any case, keeping this issue alive doesn't seem to do AEW any good.

The biggest risk is if the footage--or whatever the Young Bucks say about it--provokes Punk into making a response someday. The best case for AEW is if the segment is so airtight that Punk decides to shut up, or if his clapback is as incoherent as the "pegwarmer" promo. More likely, though, he'll fire live rounds that make AEW look stupid. AEW can only retaliate by trying to make Punk look even worse, but Punk doesn't care as much about looking terrible as AEW ought to care about not looking stupid.

The only upside I see is if the segment somehow has anything to do with the kayfabe storylines within AEW. Like, I assume the Bucks will tie Punk's misbheavior at Wembley to their tag title match against FTR, or their "we're the jackass EVPs Punk said we are" gimmick, but I'm not sure how. Or maybe the footage will lead to the Bucks "exonerating" Perry to set up his return to AEW as their sidekick. But these are goals that could be achieved without talking about Punk at all. Which brings us back to the original point--this just isn't a hill worth dying on.

[winedarkgod]

what was a time that you helped someone who really needed it that impacted you so deeply that it profoundly changed something about you, or even just stuck with you above any other such incidents?

wow this is a big question...it's hard for me to say bcuz there are a lot of little things that stick out in my mind

I think about all the times I've held space for people to grieve the loss of their loved ones

when I've helped complete strangers that didn't even speak english move out of their apartment

when I bought food for my coworker after her card got declined

when I took care of an injured bird I found and helped get it to a specialized vet

when I went grocery shopping for my friend who was houseless and could barely afford to stay in a motel

when I invited my other coworker to a punk show and he thanked me afterwards cuz he had been feeling isolated and it made him feel at home

when people have told me they don't feel anxious around me

I don't know if there is "one big thing" and I don't know how to define what "big" is to someone else

but this question really got me thinking about all these "small" things I've done for people without thinking much about it...and maybe they were small to me, but maybe they were a big deal to them. I know people have done "small" things for me that have impacted me greatly.

I know I have been shaped by small acts of love, both from the people in my life and the Gods. maybe I've contributed to someone else's montage of love and not even realized it.

thank you for the beautiful question, Stranger. I hope Dionysus blesses you and you remember you're a child of earth and the starry sky. 🙏🏽♥

[dekuprompts]

boku no hero academia, season one.

prompts taken from the subs of the first series of the anime. some lines have been lightly edited for roleplaying suitability. content warning for implied violence, mentions of injury, death, murder.

if you keep going, i’ll never forgive you.

even though you’re quirkless, you’re pretending to be a hero, [name] ?

all men are not created equal.

that was my first and last setback.

that’s a huge villain !

this is dangerous ! stay back, stay back !

man, turning into a monster’s an amazing quirk.

who’s fighting ?

you are the incarnation of evil.

show us something flashy, [name] !

a pleasure to make your ass-quaintance !

hey wait, you’re taking notes ? you wanna be a hero ?

it’s time for you to think seriously about your future.

using your powers at school is against the rules !

i’m not gonna be stuck at the bottom with the rest of these rejects.

that was uncalled for, [name.]

what the hell can you do ?

catch me if you can !

hey, let’s go to karaoke !

the incident this morning is all over the headlines !

we’re not done talking yet, [name.]

come on, you could at least say something back.

you’re pathetic. you still can’t face reality.

it’s too scary for me, i can’t watch it.

it’s fine now. why ? because i am here.

can i … be a hero, too ?

don’t worry, i’m just going to take over your body, calm down.

thanks for your help. you’re my hero.

i’m dying … am i dying ?

sorry about getting you caught up in my villain fighting.

can even someone without a quirk be like you ?

i think saving people is super cool.

i want to be the greatest hero, like you !

you went a little overboard today.

it’s your fault for getting in my way.

if we get caught, it’ll end up on my record !

a punk like you couldn’t defeat me.

the fight was not made public to the world. i asked that it not be made public.

i smile to trick the fear inside of me.

it’s not bad to dream, but you also have to consider what’s realistic.

you knew. that’s why you were trying so desperately.

help will arrive soon … someone … a hero will ...

you looked like you were asking for help.

there was absolutely no reason to put yourself in danger !

i never asked you for help !

don’t think you can look down on me !

it’s not like i accomplished anything or changed anything.

it was because it was none other than you at the scene that i was able to act.

you can become a hero.

you are worthy to inherit my power.

your quirk is something hotly debated as one of the world’s greatest mysteries.

you always start with denial, huh ?

i may hide a lot of things, but i don’t lie.

why are you giving me something so great ?

i’ve been looking for a successor.

you were more heroic than anyone else back there.

an unprepared body cannot inherit this fully. this limbs will come off, and the body will explode.

heroes these days are after the showy stuff. originally, being a hero meant doing volunteer service.

i’ve told you this before. it’s not something you can do without a quirk.

[place]'s the hardest hero course to get into.

frankly, this is a super hard schedule. can you follow it ?

did your encounter with the villain make you go crazy ?

you haven’t been sticking to the plan, have you ?

the mirage of it is just barely visible, but you have certainly become a suitable vessel !

i feel like i’m cheating.

we have to fix those leaky eyes of yours.

this is power that you earned because of your own effort.

eat this.

don’t stand in front of me, i’ll kill you.

it’s my quirk. sorry for using it without asking first.

it’d be bad luck if you fell, right ?

don’t look, i’ll kill you.

damn, now i can’t crush you.

you’ve been muttering this whole time. it’s distracting !

graduating from [place] is a requirement for being a great hero.

they have more than one of these on the school grounds ?

how can everyone be so confident ?

at the very least, we have one less rival to worry about, right ?

prepare yourself for the physical repercussions it’ll have on your body.

thanks for distracting it !

we made a good team, but i don’t think we’ll meet again.

the most important qualification of a hero is the spirit of self-sacrifice.

you were hurt this much by your own quirk ?

there was no way i could tell anyone, not even my family.

after you saw potential in me, i’m sorry i didn’t live up to it.

i did what i thought was right.

actually, i came to this town to work at [place.]

just so you know, i didn’t tell [place / person] about my connection to you.

my body broke with one use of my quirk. i can’t control it at all.

that’s cruel. do you truly aim to be a hero ?

i hate to admit it, but you are better than me.

what dirty tricks did you use to get in, huh ?

my future plan has already been torn to pieces.

i told you to go somewhere else !

if you’re going to become a hero, you don’t have time for such leisurely events.

go somewhere else if you want to play at being friends.

will you have an attitude like that the whole time ?

you’re not being creative enough. i’ll show you what it’s like to be allowed to use your quirk !

it doesn’t look good for you if you continue like this.

i’ve heard of you. you’re an underground hero.

from what i can tell, you can’t control your quirk, can you ?

[name], with your power, you can’t become a hero.

if this is my only choice, i just have to go all out.

it doesn’t hurt as much as before.

i came because i was worried, but what the heck, [name] ?!

hey ! tell me what’s going on, [name], you bastard !

by the way, i was lying about the expulsion.

tomorrow will be packed with even more rigorous tests. prepare yourself.

[name.] so you were watching ?

you cut those you judge to be without potential without hesitation.

there’s nothing crueller than letting a dream end midway.

you’re being kind in your own way, huh, [name] ?

you don’t have time to relax, [name.] the real thing starts tomorrow.

when you dozed off while studying, i happened to see your notebook.

i gave up back then. but you didn’t. you kept chasing your dream, didn’t you ?

in this society filled with heroes, truly intelligent villains hide in the shadows.

go all out. don’t be afraid to get hurt.

if things go too far, i’ll stop it.

you seem to be especially angry when it comes to [name.]

[name] is the one who makes fun of you, right ?

there are a lot of blind spots, so let’s be careful.

if i use this on someone, it will kill them.

i figured you’d come for me first.

good or bad, you were full of confidence, and i thought you were so cool.

[name] ! give me your status ! what happened ?!

i’m not asking about how you feel !

going off on your own like that … what is wrong with you ?!

you were always good at reacting quickly in a crisis.

was it fun tricking me all this time ?

you’ve got a flashy quirk there, don’t you ? try and get me with it !

i heard from [name] that you think well of yourself, but this is too much.

[name], you really can’t do anything, can you ?

hey, did you hear ? [name] doesn’t have a quirk.

are you all right ? can you stand ?

don’t look at me with that face !

are you underestimating me, [name] ?

i’m not scared of you anymore !

if i don’t hit you, you won’t die !

what in the world did you do ? explain yourself !

fine, then. let’s fight it out with our fists.

you don’t look like the type to think, but you’re more subtle than i expected.

those are not the actions of a hero.

i want to win and surpass you, you idiot !

i can’t use it because my body can’t handle the impact.

you’re a mass of pride.

there’s nothing more fragile than a heart that’s swelled to bursting.

the school year has just begun, and you’ve already been in here three times !

why didn’t you stop them, [name] ?

i know it’s not like you want to rest on your laurels at the top, but is this really that important ?

i don’t know what you were saying during the match but you were fired up !

you did terrible in the training.

what’s with those hands, anyway ?

hey, [name], you wanna grab a bite to eat sometime ? what do you like ?

there’s one thing i feel like i have to tell you.

my quirk is something i received from someone else.

one day, i will make this quirk my own, and beat you with my own power.

what are you trying to do, make me out to be more of a fool than you already have ?

wow, you’re scruffy. what’s your deal ?

i can’t believe you were able to work as a hero with all this.

[name], you’re talented, so don’t act like a kid.

you settled it by breaking your arm again, huh ?

as long as you fix the control issue, there’ll be a lot you’re able to do.

wanting to do it and being suitable for it are different issues.

this might be the first time i’ve seen you smile, [name.]

you think we could beat ‘em up ?

don’t do it, [name.] they’ll write up a bunch of half-truths about you.

if word gets out, it’s clear that the world would be teeming with those trying to steal this power from you.

my quirk’s strong against others, but unfortunately, it doesn’t look like much.

you have to think about popularity as a hero too, you know.

you do not have powers so you can harm others.

the trespassing the other day was the work of these scumbags after all, huh ?

i went through the trouble of bringing this whole crowd, too …

i wonder if [name] will come if we kill some kids ?

you can’t be a hero with just one trick.

i hate pro heroes. the masses don’t stand a chance against them.

you’re actually good at fighting by yourself against a lot of people, huh ?

this is no time for analysis ! hurry up and take shelter !

they were waiting to pounce, just like you said.

don’t you think they’re trying so hard because they have a way to kill you ?

i wonder if we’ll be able to hold out until [name] arrives.

i wonder if we’ll all make it out in one piece.

you shouldn’t react every time you hear of an incident !

you really haven’t changed at all, have you ?

i think you can stay here and relax for a little longer.

are there really idiots who talk about their plans in front of the enemy ?

i already kind of knew, but you’re pretty strong.

my quirk is totally unfit for battle !

i’m getting impatient. let’s end this quickly !

it’s weirder not to be scared right now !

rather than reflecting back, shouldn’t you think of what to do next ?

i think you overexerted yourself jumping into that crowd of villains to protect us.

we were under the illusion that our powers would actually work against the enemy.

on what basis do you think you can kill [name] ? what’s your plan ?

we need to figure out how we’ll get away from all these people.

even if we wanted to call for help, there’s interference jamming the signal.

right now, you can’t count on me, so i’m counting on you !

sorry, i thought it was a good idea at the time !

is this all of them ? they’re so weak.

you’re gonna act childish at a time like this ?

i’m sure you must be having second thoughts, right ?

we can’t win against dozens of pros. it’s game over.

i guess it’s true after all that you’re getting weaker.

how did you make a suplex look like an explosion ?

i’m the only one who knows your secret, and the predicament you’re in.

to tear you apart is my job.

there are still tons of things i want you to teach me !

move ! you’re in the way, [name] !

damn it ! i didn’t get to show off !

the symbol of peace cannot be killed by the likes of you.

do you not know how to hold back ?

it was to rescue my companions. i had no choice.

violence for the sake of others makes it admirable. isn’t that right, hero ?

you would’ve been in trouble if i hadn’t done anything earlier, right ?

my power has been declining faster than i expected.

if you can withstand me at one hundred per cent, then i’ll force you to surrender from beyond that !

they got us. we let our guard down completely.

you’re in great demand, right ?

i’m just wondering, why is someone like you a villain ?

if you don’t put up a fight, i’ll let this idiot go.

[name] ! we should get out of here now !

if i move even one step, i won’t be able to keep up this bluff.

if you and i work together, we still have a chance of killing them.

i wasn’t … able to do anything …

if it wasn’t for those few seconds you bought me, i would have been killed.

i can’t believe we let them escape after they made such a big show of trespassing.

i’m a fan of yours too.

man, you act recklessly every time, huh ?

if i didn’t act recklessly, i would have been killed.

we cannot move freely, which is why we need a symbol, like you.

next time, show the world that you are to be feared.

you were super strong. i was surprised !

this type of quirk is already very rare, but for a villain to have one, of all things …

investigating is what you’re good at. i’m counting on you !

i think i might’ve shortened the time limit of my hero form again.

have there even been any first years who experienced a real fight so soon ?

[hatingwithfears]

TOP 10: January 20, 2025

10- Joyce Carol Oates- Black Water (1992)

A short stream-of-consciousness book heavily inspired by Chappaquiddick incident. There’s not too much here, with characters going on for page after page, it should have been a little more economical. This might have worked better as a short story than a full fledged book.

9- Ringo Starr- Look Up (2025)

Ringo had done a handful of country tunes while with The Beatles (“Act Naturally”, “Don’t Pass Me By”, “What Goes On”) and a 1970 LP Beacoups of Blues. This new album of country tunes done with the help of producer T-Bone Burnett has some decent tunes, with Burnett writing most of the tunes here. Ringo’s vocals have never been too adventurous, so it helps that many tracks here have a singing partner, it’s too bad the entire record isn’t duets (there’s been plenty throughout the history of country music).

8- Franz Ferdinand- The Human Fear (2025)

LP 6 from Franz Ferdinand comes after the exit of two members, but the band shows they still have it with some very clever songs that sound like The Beatles (“Audacious”) or Pet Sounds era Beach Boys (“Tell Me I Should Stay”). The dance punk element of their work is still here, and while the entire album doesn’t really have a great flow (the songs have almost too much variety), it’s nice to hear this band still going for it after over twenty years.

7- Maggie Thrash- Rainbow Black (2024)

A novel about 90’s satanic panic, tabloid press and dealing with violent, traumatic events early in life and how those things continue to leave an impact years later. Perfectly split into four sections, Thrash doesn’t dwell too much on 90’s nostalgia, and also treads lightly on the satanic aspects of the story.

6- Barbara Kingsolver- The Poisonwood Bible (1998)

I didn’t think that a book about an American family moving to the Congo would be a very interesting one, but thanks to Kingsolver giving the women in this family a voice and trading off from one to the other, one chapter after the next, we end up with a substantial read that cannot always provide answers to some plot points, and we end up with a stronger story because of it.

5- Blue Lake- Weft (2025)

A largely acoustic cross between jazz and folk, this new album from Blue Lake settles into a peaceful vibe very quickly and holds it there for the album’s 30 minute runtime. It’s a quiet record that was mainly recorded live, strings and zithers and bells are all around here and it’s quietly sublime at moments. The first and last tracks here easily the best too.

4- Emily Witt- Health and Safety: A Breakdown (2024)

Witt is a staff writer at The New Yorker, so it goes without saying that this book is very well put together and written in a very clean fashion that doesn’t get too flowery while still providing plenty of details on the NYC dance and drug scene that she starts to get invested in around the time of COVID. It’s a book about stepping outside of your comfort zone, a memoir about a relationship that ends up going sour and while I came to this expecting more about techno music, what I ended up surpassed my expectations.

3- Better Man (2025)

British pop star Robbie Williams as a monkey for over two hours could have been a messy affair, instead this ends up being one of the few music biopics that really works (Elton John’s Rocketman also comes to mind). From his childhood, to his boyband days with Take That, to his solo career Better Man plays it pretty straight, besides the monkey.

There’s the usual cliches of the music biopic here, with drugs and sex taking over Robbie’s life, and showing how the addictions almost destroyed his life.

Better Man looks at the perils of getting famous fast and how fame can easily make us surrender to our worst addictions and compulsions, and it’s also a touching film about family and father-son dynamics. (There’s a great moment where Robbie provides a literal spotlight for his father while he’s framed in the dark).

Also, the fact that monkey Robbie Williams fights his skinless self from the “Rock DJ” video is fucking wild.

2- Robbie Williams- “My Way” (2001)

In anticipation for Better Man, I went through some videos of Robbie Williams, and this performance from Royal Albert Hall might be Williams at his most classy. When the orchestra takes the last third of the song, and we can see Williams getting emotional after thanking his mom, who was in the audience.

I was pretty taken by this performance, only to find that it’s used in the closing scene of the Robbie Williams biopic, where instead of thanking his mother, Williams invites his father to join him and they sing this Sinatra classic with each other.

1- Allan Kozinn, Adrian Sinclair- The McCartney Legacy, Vol. 2: 1974-80 (2024)

You would think that only presidents would end up with 700 page multi-volume biographies, but this second volume on (just) the solo career of Paul McCartney never gets dull and is so loaded with information that it could easily end up being the definitive words on McCartney. The Beatle himself has never written a memoir (the closest he’s going to get was a few years ago with his two-volume lyric book) so this book is the next best thing. Covering the time from the recording of Venus & Mars up to Paul’s pot bust in Tokyo, we see an artist trying his damndest to give audiences what they want, and still push his own artistic boundaries while also being highly susceptible and more than a little annoyed by the criticism thrown his way when Wings were in their post-Band on The Run era.

[xwonderfuldeath]

.o| It's a small world : XII |o.

Warnings : Violence, injury, graphic depictions, sex

Please, consider supporting me on Ko-Fi ! ♥

« - To your new job! » 

The atmosphere in the nightclub was euphoric, as Jimin seemed the happiest man in the world. The school vacations would soon be over, and in three months' time he'd be entitled to his moment of glory. Elyzabeth also seemed to be on cloud nine, looking around almost disappointed not to see what she had most certainly come for. Taehyung felt a bit like the ugly duckling, the person who didn't really belong, brooding, drinking without even wanting to, he didn't even know why he'd agreed to come to the party organized by the establishment's manager, Mr Jeon Jungkook. Just thinking about him, the man who'd left him in the lurch for the whole week, made his bruised little heart ache, reminding him that despite a lot of sex, they had something together. Something that obviously wasn't mutual. 

« - If that's not the deadbeats. »

Straightening their gaze, Taehyung, Jimin and Elyzabeth looked at the newcomer with a rather curious air. A tall, rather handsome, blond man looked at them as if they were criminals from high places, and Jimin seemed the first to react, deadbeats? They'd never been asked to pay. On the contrary, they had even offered them their drinks. Silence reigned in the group, as everyone turned to each other. 

« - So, you're not answering anything ? You owe us money. 

- We don't owe anything, get out of my way! 

Taehyung had been colder than he wanted, and the man seemed to take the piss. 

- You know who I am? 

- Let's calm down, you want money? Call your boss. » 

A shiver goes through Jimin, as the man looks him up and down, trying to undress him with his eyes, as he comes closer, threatening, a terrifying little laugh passing his lips, as he looks very much like a predator. Making the dancer uncomfortable as Taehyung moves, just in case they have to fight. Dr. Kim didn't brag much about it, but since the incident, he'd been boxing frequently, so that if it came to it again, he'd be able to defend himself. And it was obviously going to help him, considering the mentally ill man was obviously a dog. 

« - I didn't know we accepted our future dancers until they were taken. 

- I didn't know? 

- What, you didn't know? You thought Mister Suga just wanted your ass? He always does. He makes them all fall down one after the other. » 

Jimin went from laughing, to slowly turning pale, to simply having his heart broken. Taehyung stood up, really pissed off, ready to put his fist in the face of this punk who'd just completely insinuated things that weren't very clear. But obviously, heavy man, the club's security guard, put his fist in his face before Taehyung could, surprising the group of three. Without another word, the blond was dragged away by his hair, something the gang didn't know about, while Kim Namjoon, the name on his badge, apologized for his slight mismanagement. 

« - Please excuse him. He wasn't really in his right mind. The drinks are completely on the house. And the house is also offering you a discount for our next evening. » 

Pulling out three gold and blue bills from his jacket, he placed them on the table before walking away, visibly weary of this kind of situation. As the three of them sat down again at the table, rather disturbed by the situation. And by what the man had said. Who was Suga? Yoongi? And what did he have to do with this prostitution business? The party mood disappeared, as they left the club in dead silence. 

« - I've got to go home. My mom's coming tomorrow. 

- Yeah, okay. » 

 Jimin slipped away, his stomach churning as Taehyung and Elyzabeth joined Taehyung's car, both seemingly digesting the information as the doctor spoke first. It was funny, but he'd been wondering about Yoongi for a while now. Or Jungkook. Once he'd seen Jungkook take a phone call, he had to be sure he was asleep, but he wasn't. And finally he'd heard Jungkook's voice. And finally he'd heard Jungkook whisper that a head was due to roll that very evening. He'd put it down to his work, but now he wasn't so sure, and he pinched his lower lip as he drove up to Elyzabeth's apartment complexe, who seemed eager to talk. 

« - - I think that guy was just drunk. Or stupid. That's all. 

- Yeah, probably. 

- Have a good evening. » 

 -x- 

Taehyung isn't sure what he's doing outside Jungkook's door. Shifting from one foot to the other, hands shoved deep in his pockets, he stared at the snow falling from the sky, wondering if this wasn't stupid. He was tired, drunk. Jungkook was probably working at the club, so all that remained was the potential for hypothermia. This made him laugh, a little yellow. A doctor out in the middle of winter, waiting to lose a toe or an ear for no good reason. He must have been pretty drunk. Rejoining the path again, he felt the warm coat against his shoulders, making him jump before looking at Jungkook, who seemed rather worried. 

« - You're not at the club? 

- I don't need to be. The reason I was put there was more. 

- Don't do that. You left me on the sidelines. 

- I know, and I'm sorry. Really... come in. You'll catch a cold. Or worse. »

Simply nodding, Taehyung joins him in the warm house, which feels good on his stiffened and probably reddened body, and he doesn't mind a really hot shower. When he emerges, dressed only in a towel, his eyes fall on Jungkook's body. Muscular, beautiful, covered in scars. He ticked, his eyes moving from one cut to another, before his eyes settled against his back, the recent trace of a wound making him move. Finally realizing that Jungkook always accepts exposure only in total darkness. Taehyung's fingers rest against the wound, making Jungkook shudder, he can feel his muscles stiffen, as he turns around in surprise, letting Taehyung see the entrance to the bullet. 

« - Taehyung? 

- What's the matter? 

- Anything wrong? 

- None at all. »

He moves forward, kissing her full on the lips, making them both moan, running his hands against the body he's stripping bare, the torrid night ahead making him think, as he looks at Jungkook's body completely asleep against the unraveled sheets. Lost in his intense thoughts. What if Jungkook wasn't telling him the whole truth? Then what did that make them? 

[manifestopaulo]

I had a fight with Johnny Rotten Pt. 1  - The Full Story

So, it wasn't exactly a fight, but rather a nonsensical angry exchange over football teams that was just as absurd as it seems. This utterly baffling incident originated from my innocuous request for a photo with the renowned punk artist. The situation abruptly took a sour turn when, unprovoked and out of nowhere, I found myself on the receiving end of a cascade of insults seemingly tied to my supposed football allegiance. It escalated quickly and I narrowly managed to avoid a nasty scene. This puzzling encounter left me completely baffled for a while, but considering the recent developments surrounding Lydon, it likely served as an early indication of what was to come with the with the punk rock legend.

It all started on a chilly evening in Hoxton, where a small, exclusive boiler room gig featuring PIL was taking place. As a die-hard music enthusiast, I had always admired the iconic figure that is John Lydon. Known as Johnny Rotten, he had carved his name in punk rock history as the frontman of the Sex Pistols, and later, with his band Public Image Ltd (PiL). But little did I know that the night I attended one of his gigs would forever change my perception of him.

Before delving into the night's events, it's worth noting the recent developments surrounding Lydon. In the years following our encounter, his actions had taken a peculiar turn, causing confusion amongst fans. His controversial remarks, including support for Donald Trump and dismissive comments about the #MeToo movement, had divided opinion about the once-rebellious figure. These events have led to a shift in how some sections of the music media and the public view Lydon. However, it's essential to note that he remains a significant figure in punk rock history, and still maintains a dedicated fan base..

Going back to the night, after seeing PIL play, I coincidentally found myself at the pub where his press talk was being held.  As the last of the press departed, I mustered up the courage to fulfil a dream and asked my friend to help me take a photo with John. Surprisingly, he readily agreed.

I experienced a brief moment of exhilaration, momentarily interrupted by a couple of awkward minutes during which my friend encountered difficulty operating the camera on my blackberry phone. I tried to smooth things over and apologised for the inconvenience. Just as the picture was finally taken, a member of Lydon's entourage seemed to take an instant disliking to me for no apparent reason. He passed by me, hurling insults and mentioning something about football.

To this day, I wonder if this individual possessed some sort of supernatural foresight, because without me uttering a word about football or displaying any inclination towards it, this guy started accusing me of being a fan of the North London football club Tottenham. It was either an astonishing coincidence or this individual did actually possess some sort of psychic abilities, because his claim that turned out to be 100% correct. I was in fact a Tottenham fan but I struggled to comprehend why he brought up football in that particular moment and how it related to the situation. But then he went beyond that then also accused me of being "Lemon dash," which is Cockney rhyming slang for "flash." when all I was attempting to do was maintain a sense of normalcy and lightheartedness to ease the awkwardness and peculiarity of the situation, which certainly didn’t qualify as being “flashy.”

My brain went into that weird fight or flight mode and time was acting strange. I couldn't help but feel perplexed as my mind raced to make sense of the situation. Giving the guy a moment’s credit and benefit of the doubt, I ask myself did I do something wrong? Did I violate some code, Was it a bit jumped up of me, thinking I could easily approach a living punk legend and strike up a conversation. All this went through my head in an instant.

What struck me as particularly odd was the assumption this guy had made about me. Despite not looking like a football supporter at all, he had weirdly pigeonholed me. Undeniably, he was some sort of fervent football enthusiast, and perhaps sensing that I was a fellow Londoner, he considered me suitable for such engagement. Nevertheless, it was rather presumptuous, bordering on narcissism, to assume that I would share his profound passion for the sport. Without any prior introduction to the subject of football, or even the slightest interaction with the man, I was unexpectedly bombarded with all this football talk of which I still had no idea why he was talking about this or why he suddenly had this bee in his bonnet.

To be honest, I kinda had a feeling about what this all was about. It reminded me of childhood when some kids would try to instigate a fight by questioning your favorite football team. Then there were those truly insane football fans who were deeply entrenched in the culture of football hooliganism who still wanted to act like kids or teenagers. I enjoyed watching the occasional football match and had friends who loved the game but not on that level.

Football, over the years, has managed to broaden its appeal and following, which is great. Most people now enjoy or have experienced the excitement of watching a game and getting caught up in the madness. It has been compared to a punk gig or a rave by many writers on the subject. It probably is the biggest sub-culture we still have left. However, there is a point where it can become a bit silly.

For some individuals, this goes beyond simply enjoying the game. It becomes a way of proving their loyalty to their club, showing that they are more involved than the average person. Unfortunately, this is where some of the most ridiculous behavior is still permitted to exist. Football has a dark past that was partly built on the these loyal paying supporters. Some people still want to act as if we are still stuck in that era, with the most ugly and unacceptable behavior being tolerated.

This toxic environment not only revels in the unacceptable behavior but also embraces violence and even has links to the far right. Racism still rears its ugly head in football, which is deeply unfortunate. For those who are into this kind of extreme behavior, they try to convince themselves that it is something that us "normies" don't understand. However, for the average person or casual fan like me, it just looks like sheer stupidity and something I have always wanted to steered clear of. But as I say, I enjoyed watching the occasional match.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, this was typically confined to the football terrace or particular bars that die-hard fans frequent. But this happening here in this cool pub at this niche music event was also an odd place to start bothering people with that kind of nonsense, The unbelivible opportunity to get a picture with punk rock legend Johnny Rotten was surreal enough as it was. But now, going sour as the situation had spiraled into something completely and utterly fucking mental.

I’ve always tended to not discriminate against anyone and I’ve always given older people respect, but In that moment, it became clear to me that here was a full grown, middle-aged man acting and talking like a kid. An absolute nutter who, for some unknown reason, had taken a disliking to me and decided to stir up trouble by springing this nonsense and his assumptions on me.

Again with my mind racing it clicked again, I recalled this obscure fact about Lydon’s history and realised he was affiliated with an old Arsenal-supporting crowd from his Finsbury Park days and having been a loyal member of this crowd before his time with the Sex Pistols. Over recent years, there has been a noticeable resurgence in football culture, overshadowing other cultural institutions. Even men of middle age, seeming to relive their glory days, have gravitated not just towards football but also to the turbulent hooligan culture that comes with it. It was clear that Lydon found himself back in this trend. He had reoriented himself, diving back into the fray, even going to the extent of attending games at Highbury.. NowI found myself face to face with these Arsenal fanatics and hooligans that comprised his entourage and security. It really did seem there was nothing more to it than if anyone they decided they disliked they would suspect of them of supporting Tottenham and try to start some shit with them. The entire spectacle bordered on the absurd. More than anything, it was surreal, with a group of older men men who might've been my father's age, some even your granddads age acting like they was in one of these football hooligan films like ‘Green Street’ or ‘Football Factory.’

But I myself got so fuelled by the perceived rudeness directed towards me, I then decided to join in the childishness and I retaliated by insulting their beloved football team. A decision I instantly regretted as the situation escalated, and It nearly kicked-off like “Football Factory Pt. 2 The Elderly Years.’ I narrowly avoided a potentially ugly incident and my head kicked in by reasoning that it was all a bit unnecessary and I hadn’t really gone out for that,. I’d only gone out to watch a band. It was supposedly a night PIL was celebrating a new release and us celebrating their music but indicative of the time we was in football had come back to take centre stage instead.

Well, I suppose everything has its rightful place. If you feel inclined to meet and have a confrontation with a bunch of other guys who like fighting over their preferred sports teams, then go ahead, However, but don’t bring that to a music event, particularly for those who are completely not interested in this type of stuff. It's really troubling and this kind of toxic behaviour shouldn't be brought anywhere near people who haven't shown the slightest scintilla of indication that they want any part of it..

In punk history, there are accounts of when John Lydon, was assaulted by thugs incited by right-wing tabloids whilst in the Sex Pistols. Lydon had absolutely hated this kind of aggression and made sure to keep his distance from it for a long time. It's pretty surprising then that someone like him, who has gone through attacks himself, wouldn't understand what it feels like to be in a situation that revolves around being targeted by bullies for something like your music preferences, again especially having gone through that himself and having this supposedly strong opposition to it. However, I now find myself entangled in a similar situation, subjected to the identical mistreatment, with it unfolding right in front of him. I suppose we've come full circle, the abused turning into abuser themselves.

But during the fracas, I caught sight of Lydon's face, he was actually looking quite gleeful and seemed to be enjoying it. Meanwhile, I was trying my best to defend myself against a bunch of big burly blokes who were about to knock the fuck out of me.

The lyrics "they made you a moron" from the Sex Pistols' song "Anarchy in the U.K." seem quite fitting in this era of tribalism. It appears that even someone like Lydon, who had experienced being attacked for his music choices, can now be influenced and turned to follow the herd towards right-wing ideologies and thuggish behaviour. Unfortunately, it seems like not even the once professed anarchist punk legend could be totally exempt from being made into a product of this right-wing media and their prevailing tendency towards embracing ignorance.

I recently read Bobby Gillespie's amazing book 'Tenement Kid' and came across a fascinating passage where Gillespie describes Punk and the Pistols. He mentions how under Malcolm McLarens guidance, Punk was expanding the cultural and political political frame of reference of curious teenagers. But hey, who needs to concern themselves about that when you can just worry about whether someone supports Tottenham or Arsenal, right?

This night I encountered Mr. Lydon it definitely confirmed the old saying of 'never meet your heroes. However, looking back about that night, it not only hints at the insular, tribal, and paranoid mindset that Lydon had adopted, but also foreshadows a similar state that the rest of the world was on the brink of entering. 

In the next part of this article to follow, I will take a closer look at some of the cultural factors that my have contributed to this unfortunate event and what has occurred around Lydon in the years following.

[the-silver-peahen-residence]

Rex heard the anger in his girlfriend's voice, knowing these sudden attacks have gotten worse or a lot more dangerous. He could sense so much anger and fear all throughout New York it was not even funny. Even after the DBT disappeared that day after the horrible incident attack, everyone else was unsure on how to feel. Even with everyone getting older, he sighed.

Hearing the question, Rex looks ahead with his arms crossed. "No idea. True, they are doing this at random so it's hard to pin point where they will strike next. They could hit anyone right now without us knowing. I already have my team trying to have their followers look around gathering information but nothing helped." he sighed but he did look a lot older even his dreadlocks gotten longer that he was thinking to himself.

"We might have to call the other leaders to see if they found anything out or heard of any recent attacks." he said to her. Even if he was also worried about the other fractions, even his baby sister Ashley. He hopes she was alright.

~~In Central Park~~

"I wonder where Melinda is. She said she was going to get some food before coming back. You sure I shouldn't just go and find her?" Another young woman said looking out since Jinx was doing something or speaking to the other leaders of other locations. IN the past two years, the Vixens gotten more support and have spread out to more locations. Now, the girls had a small area that had followers.

For Jinx: The cursed panthers

Breezy: The hurricane devils

Mouse: Hackers united

Echo: Hunting dog devils

Vivi: Shadow vipers

and Melinda: Physic lung dragons

Thanks to the smaller areas, the cursed vixens have grown out from the main area of Central park and out in other areas of it. Even so, another young woman named Mouse was checking on her holo tablet then looks up standing by Breezy. She seems to have changed too while looking at her.

"You know Melinda will be fine. If something was wrong, she would have contacted us Breezy. Now just relax. Your over thinking things again." Mouse mutters but even deep down she was missing someone but..no no, she still was going to stay strong for him.

"I know, I know...but if nothing else, I hope she's alright even with the attacks happening all over New York. Or that's what Vivi said in our morning meeting from her patrol." Breezy had her arms over her chest but she did look more like a punk given the rip black jeans, a bottom ripped T-shirt, some wrist bands, and her hair being up in a pony tail this time.

Before Mouse says anything, they blink seeing someone hurrying over. They saw Melinda come back. "There you are!"

"Sorry sorry. I was trying to hurry back but I got everything for dinner. I hope I wasn't keeping you waiting for too long." she rubs the back of her head.

"You didn't..but did anything happen to you?" Breezy asked seeing Melinda shake her head no.

"No. I didn't sense any threats but..it's a bit odd even with everything being so quiet now...." she sighed to look at the bag.

"Though, lets hurry inside. Or are we waiting for Jinx to finish her meeting with the followers?"

"She said she would be done soon...." Breezy said. "That and the other girls are inside..."

||Rebellion: The DBT's Return!||

Reserved Rp with @demon-blood-youths

'It's been a long while hasn't it? Two years I believe..or has it become longer? I can't remember. Even from those two years, it feels like New York has changed......'

'Especially after they disappeared...'

A older young woman was looking ahead while holding a bag with some food and fresh veggies inside. She was walking down the street looking ahead but she hasn't seen many out after the small mini wars going on all through NYC. Even having a more older spiritual like jackal walking by her side now. Seems the puppy jackal grew up and is now a big boy wagging his tail happily.

Ever since that upsetting day, all the fractions have been unsure on how to feel but they keep living their lives. Even when trying to take on the new threat that seems to be hitting all the areas here. Even now, it's a quiet stand still right now. After walking, the young woman stops only to look up feeling a light breeze blowing against her.

'No one knows what caused it or who did it but after seeing the news that day and seeing the fire. We didn't know if the DBT was..killed. Even from the horrible attack on the island of Wyckoff, no one knows what could have happened. So..everyone either tried to move on but still couldn't accept their faith. But....even so I get the feeling they are not dead......he's not dead..' she thought only to slowly look ahead showing silver eyes.

'I miss you guys. We all miss you..I deeply miss you my jackal. I don't know why but even with you not being here..it still hurts. I always love you with all my heart but the others were so upset that day......even with the enemy still terrorizing the areas of NYC..'

Melinda Brooks was gripping the bag but she has indeed gotten a lot older. Her demonic power has gotten a lot more stronger now and she's already shown progress. Just like her fraction, the Cursed vixens and her demon sisters. Even the other fractions have gotten older as well but they still get stronger by the passing day. However, Melinda only knew everyone was on guard after the sudden attacks and hearing about Bradley joining on the evil side but no one knows if it's true due to not seeing him.

'Even now, I just hope everyone is staying safe or maybe Jinx has gotten word from the other demons and followers in the other areas in Central Park. Oh well...I hope we can get through this without another attack..but I highly don't see that happening. But I'm getting distracted. I better head on back before Jinx gets worried..' she thought turning to head back while passing a few people or some speaking to themselves. As for the enemy, some was in hiding and yet, none showed their position off. It was a matter of time before another strike would happen.

[simpforchuchu]

Hello could you do Tsuji & Shibaman x Reader? Reader being Binzo younger sister (By a Year) who he is super protective of and has a strict no dating rule. I hope you have a good day!

Tsuj&Shibaman x Binzo's Sister x Platonic!Binzo

a/n: Hii! Im happy to see finally someone requested for my fav babies 😄💕 Im usually not very good at writing poly but i tried hxhdh I hope you like it 🤗💕

Sorry for the grammer or spelling mistakes.English is not my main language so...

Thank you and love you 🥰

Warnings: hnl usual violence

• No matter how crazy Binzo is, I think he's a pretty calm and good brother to his baby sister.

•  SWEETEST ONII-CHAN EVER 🥺🥺

•  And yes, baby sister... She is still a baby for him.

•  I imagine he always uses a sweet tone of voice when talking to her

•  An older brother who taught her everything and was always there for her.

•  BUT DEFINITELY TOO PROTECTIVE...

•  Oh God... He knows how filthy men can be and how dangerous this city is for her and he wants to protect her from all evil.

•  He doesn't want her to fight, even if he teaches her to protect herself. 

• 'Cause he'll always be there to protect her'

•  He doesn't let anyone outside of the Raoh faction know about her because he doesn't want her to be a target.  And of course his friends will be her sweet big brothers too

•  I think she will get along well especially  with Raoh and Magoroku.Magoroku likes that Binzo's Sister isn't as annoying as he is.

•  I think Y/n is quite a beautiful and remarkable girl. Looking at Binzo, you can see what a beautiful face he has...

•  And of course, y/n gets confessions and dating offers from a lot of guys...

•  NO DATING

•  Binzo definitely thinks she's still young—yes, only a year younger—and is against having a boy in her life.

•  I don't think y/n is a rebellious or flirty girl.  Since she grew up with her older brother, I think she is very attached to him and listens to his word.

•  BUT OF COURSE LIFE IS FULL OF SURPRISES :')

•  I don't think they will meet in a fight.In fact, y/n didn't want to fight with a few punks who wanted to mess with her, so she chose to run away and fell on her knees when she tripped over a stone. 

• And of course our sweet duo wanted to get her off the ground and help.

•  I think they both saw the young girl running and realized she was running from something.  I don't think those who see Tsuji and Shibaman next to the girl will want to fight...

•  Y/n is someone who listens to her older brother's warnings and generally stays away from men and doesn't talk to them much.

•  She's not cold, she just doesn't like unnecessary intimacy

•  But something inside her told her that she could trust these two, and they chatted for a long time in the park that day.

•  From that day on, I can imagine that they will meet often and become closer day by day.

•  Neither Oya nor Suzuran know yet..

•  Although it started out as a simple friendship at first, I believe that over time their feelings for each other will grow.

•  Tsuji and Shibaman have always shared everything. They were always very close.  They have always loved each other very much. But was this growing feeling for her just friendship?

•  Was it just friendship they felt when Y/n smiled sweetly at them, when Shiba played with her hair while she was lying on his knees, or when they ran around giggling on Tsuji's back and she hugging him tightly?

•  Tsuji and Shibaman were always aware of their own feelings, but this new feeling frightened them.

•  It was the same for y/n.Could she love two people at once?  Was it really love that she felt for both of them?

•  Although all three of them lived with questions in their minds for a long time, they often spent time together.

•  It would take a long time for Binzo to find out because he often came home late or just trusted y/n...

•  She was praying to find Tsuji or Shibaman at home one day when she felt bad about a ridiculous incident at school and left without even attending classes.She felt quite at peace when she found out that they were both playing console games at Tsuji's house and knocked on the door and walked in.

•  After telling what happened at the insistence of the two and crying silently for a while, she was quite relieved when Shibaman hugged her and Tsuji played with her hair...

•  It was a magical day, all three of them were feeling quite peaceful.No one even had agreed in advance, but all three wanted to talk about the same thing. 

• A long talk, some silence and acceptance.Yes, they all three loved each other...

•  For a while they thought about what it would be like.It was the first time for all. But they could move things forward slowly.

•  Tsuji and Shiba were neither too brave nor too shy. The shy person in this relationship was usually y/n.

•  Especially the duo loved to embarrass their cute girlfriends

•  Even they always look tough and wild, Oya's interesting duo were always sweet to y/n

•  Their first kiss was very sweet, a simple but cute kiss. It wasn't passionate, it was more loving.

•  Shibaman was generally less serious than Tsuji. So he was the one who was more comforting and could act concerned.Shiba and y/n were the two of them who played with the girl's hair, made little jokes, and often did silly things.

• Tsuji was the more serious one, tougher but never against either of them. He always gave a sense of safe vibe. 

• Shibaman knew he would always watch his back, and y/n knew he would always protect her.

•  It was nice to be hugged by the two of them in cold weather, it felt like two huge teddy bears were hugging her

•  Everything was pretty nice, until Binzo find out...

•  He didn't want a man in her life, right?And she was dating 2 guys...

•  OH GOD...

•  I can say that he was quite angry at the beginning. You can be sure he wanted to beat them both but was stopped by Raoh.

•  For a moment she feared that he would kill them...

•  Was he angry? He was actually disappointed because she had been lying to him for months.

•  He did not support this relationship, he did not even understand for a while.But when he saw how upset y/n was, he agreed to meet them.

•  LUNCH WAS TOO SCARY AND NERVOUS

•  Although it was a long and difficult process, he accepted at the end...

•  Lots of threats with "I'll kill you both if my sister gets upset"

•  He knew she was happy, and that Tsuji & Shiba loved her and were there to protect her always...

•  The day the duo was taken to the hospital, Binzo was there for her. Actually, he was a little scared, the situation was serious.

•  But when the duo wakes up, he'll definitely make fun of the two of them for being so weak :D

•  I can say that he was less harsh in the healing process. But he did not let them push their luck too much :d

HnL taglist : @straysugzhpe @tiddly-winx

[noodyl-blasstal]

I’m coming to terms with the fact that I might like you enough to play this stupid board game you’ve been explaining the rules to for twenty-eight minutes now. And god save me, I listened to all of it??? (i'm pretty sure it's 24?) and blupjeans?? thankie !!

Thank you very much for this one! Shout out to Goosebumps: One Day at Horrorland.

Prompt from @juicywritinghoard Prompts for Fun and Profit which can be found by clicking here.

Barry was attaching the ‘Giant Pond Horror’ to a turntable as he spoke enthusiastically, trying not to gesture too wildly and repeat the ferris wheel incident. Wait, no, the ‘Wheel of Fear’ incident. Lup kicked herself mentally for remembering this detail, that was at least 10 minutes ago. She should not have memorised the names of the components of this dorky game, and she definitely shouldn’t know that Barry needed the Alligator Pond Dialler right now. She handed it over all the same. Barry broke his stride to thank her, and clipped it into place.

“Okay, so just the Doom Slide left to go, we’re almost ready!” Barry grabbed a cardboard skull outline and waved it in her direction while making vaguely spooky noises. Lup giggled, then mentally berated herself for encouraging him. 

Barry put the skull down and started pushing the cardboard slide together. “So I’ve already explained that you have to get the ticket cards, right?” He asked. Lup nodded, more eagerly than she’d ever admit.

“Right, well you also need to get your ride tokens to show you’ve been on them. Oh, and there’s some weird gender stuff, but I changed it to “punk” and “goth” because, you know, I was going through a phase. So anyway, you move one of your people depending on the spinner, but we can go through that a bit more when we’re actually playing, I think it’s easier to explain when you’re actually doing it. You can move any direction, but you can’t double back in the same turn, and when you’re on Horror Bridge or the Doom Slide you can only go forward.” He clipped the last pieces of the slide into place and secured it to the board, adding the big skull at the top.

“Wait, you had a goth phase? Barold! I need the photos!!” Lup was overjoyed. There was no reply. “... a punk phase?” She prodded. Barry stared hard at the wall above her shoulder.

“Anyway… There’s a try again space if you get knocked off,” he ploughed on valiantly.

“Goth Barryyyyyyy” Lup teased, under her breath.

“Oh, if you spin a 2 you can start on a ride!” Barry was clearly grasping for other things to say now and Lup felt a bit guilty. She decided that kindness was more necessary than rowdiness right now (she’d find the pictures later…) Lup nodded encouragingly, and he was off again, it was adorable.

“...blank spaces mean nothing, nice and simple!” Barry chuckled to himself, the dork. “If you get one of the ones with a G on it, you get to take a card. We’ll go through them as we go as well, although I know I’ve talked a bit about what they do.”

Barry looked so happy that Lup couldn’t help but smile. It was infectious. Barry was always so shy, so to hear him talk about this so passionately was lovely. She didn’t realise how much he could light up - he forgot to hold himself as stiffly as usual, and a smile was plastered across his face. No holding back. There were no barriers here, and she loved it. 

There was no denying that Lup had only agreed to this because she felt bad. Taako had snorted and immediately dismissed it when Barry proposed playing a board game. Magnus and Merle had jumped ship as soon as Taako announced he was going out instead. But the way Barry’s shoulders slumped, and the look of dejection on his face? It had been enough to make her dive in and offer to play without considering that it meant Paying Attention to Extensive Instructions (which was usually her least favourite hobby). 

“Only one person at a time on Doom Slide or Horror Bridge…” Barry tapped his chin, trying to work out if there was anything else to tell her. “... and this is where you get to release the skulls!” He added.

“Wait, I get to what now?” Lup asked, interest very much piqued.

“...and if you can hit someone hard enough with the Giant Pond Horror that they go into the other Horror’s mouth then some other stuff happens, but we’ll get to that when we’re going.” Barry continued. 

“I get to punt you off a bridge into a hell beast’s mouth?” Lup asked, starting to get Barold’s enthusiasm. “...and throw skulls at you?” She was smiling just as enthusiastically now.

“Only if you have a certain card and I’m on the Horror Bridge or the Doom Slide.” Replied Barry, sounding more cautious now. He suddenly paused and she saw him clam up again, smile locking itself down. She saw the moment when the doubt overtook him and the backpedalling began immediately. “Sorry Lup, I’ve probably gone on a bit too much here, we don’t have to play.” Barry flushed a deep shade of red and looked frantically around the room. “We could, er, we could watch a movie, or you can go find Taako and the others? Yeah, you’d probably rather be at the bar, right? Sorry, I shouldn’t have kept you here.” Barry was stammering now, she could practically feel the panic radiating off him. Oh no. Lup didn’t want this, she didn’t want Barry to feel like he was a joke, or that she was pitying him. Sure, maybe she agreed because of pity, but he’d been talking about this game for the last (Lup surreptitiously checked the clock,) twenty eight minutes, and she’d listened to every word. He made it sound so interesting that she was actually excited to play? She wasn’t exactly sure when that happened, but Barry was endearing - his enthusiasm was infectious, and gods help her, she wanted to smack his goth into a hell beast with a Giant Pond Horror.

“Barold,” Lup placed a hand firmly on his shoulder and looked at him until he stopped apologising. “I’m here because I want to be here. Chagirl doesn’t do anything she doesn’t want to, and right now, she wants to kill your goth ass with a fucktonne of skulls on the Doom Slide. Let’s go!”

Barry stared at her for a minute, searching her face for some hint of a lie. He didn’t find it. “Okay Lup, let’s go.” He repeated, solemnly, handing her some tiny cardboard figures.

[lnkinpark]

Dating Travis Barker....

(not my gif!) what i think dating trav is like :)))) (pop punk/rock singers pov btw)

matching tats!!

we all know travis has a list of tattoos. theres a very high chance the two of you have gotten one (or more) together / if you're not into tats he's prolly gotten a tat dedicated to you.

he's tried to teach you how to play the drums

this didn't work out. you thought it'd be easy but you aren't as coordinated as he is.

going vegan with him

this vegan thing went on for at least two months until you practically had a mental breakdown from it and ate half a tub of ice cream

helping him get over his fear of heights / calming him down

the first time travis got on a plane after the incident was really nerve racking for him, he got really worked up and even almost started crying. you went through some breathing exercises with him and made sure to let him know that it'd be alright and that you were gonna be with him the whole way.

forehead kisses !!!!!!!!

forehead kisses from the both of you. mostly him tho. his way of saying he loves you without actually saying it.

his kids love you

they adore you!! they are happy that you make him happy and they think the two of you are perfect together :)

late nights / early mornings at the studio

the both of you are constantly working on music so you try to spend the most time together, usually that time is spent at the studio

he lets you wear his chains

his chains are really cool. he had offered you wear one with your outfit because he had thought it went with it and now its a thing he lets you do.

most likely make an album together

trav out here making albums wit everyone, of course he's gonna make one with his girl

lock screens of each other

he has you as his and you have him. its corny but sweet yk?

wearing his sunglasses

he always has sunglasses on, so when he doesn't (or he thinks he's lost them) you have them

lots of "i love you"s

y'all could be watching a movie in complete silence and outta nowhere one of you would say "i love you"

holding his hand while he's getting the tattoo

travis has lots tats. i don't think getting one hurts him at all but you still like to hold his hand. he thinks its cute that you want to comfort him.

writing songs with him

probably sitting on his lap at the studio or sitting on the floor across from each other pitching ideas.

the coolest couple in punk rock scene

pretty self explanatory, (almost)every punk rock fan wants a relationship like the two of you have.

you've tried to get him to wear the lip ring on multiple occasions

you've had a crush on him since he had the lip ring. you completely love the way he looks now but every now n then you ask about it.

you painting his nails

him painting your nails

just a lil thing the two of you will do to pass time. he'd get "mad" when you'd accidentally smudge the nail polish because you couldn't sit still long enough 😭

hand kisses 😩

the first time he met you he had thought you were beyond beautiful and tried to shoot his shot by kissing your hand all gentleman like. you had secretly freaked out because travis fkn barker was not only in front of you but had also kissed your hand.

matching outfits

not wearing the exact same thing but the color scheme of the outfits would be very similar

ig stories / posts of random pictures / vids of the two of you hanging out

things like lil funny things the two of you do and catch on camera / trying out snapchat filters / actual selfies / reaction memes you find of each other on twitter / literally anything that has to do with the two of you.

makeouts get heated reeaall quick

travis is not scared to makeout with you in public. he sometimes could go a lil too far and slip his hand under your shirt or he'd pin you to the closest wall, becoming more dominant over the kiss.

he's possessive

he will tell everyone and everything that you're his.

and can get jealous quick

he's not the type to make a huge scene when someone's tryna flirt with you. he'd just pull you away from the person and make sure you stay away from them but if someone were to touch you without your consent / make a move on you. he'd probably lose his shit and beat the fuck outta the guy.

he's protective too.

when out in public, he'd keep you extra close/have you in his sight at all times. if you're out by yourself he would want to know where you were going / who you'd be with. he's not overprotective but he's protective.

inner thigh kisses

sometimes he'd lay in between your legs and rest his head on your thighs and leave sloppy kissses there. sometimes it would lead something sexual, sometimes it wouldn't. it depends.

the two of you argue about literally nothing

"Y/N DID YOU LEAVE THE KITCHEN LIGHT ON LAST NIGHT OR DID YOU NOT"

"NO I DID NOT"

"THEN WHO THE FUCK DID"

"WHY ARE YOU ASKING ME?"

him trying to get you to be more healthy

mentally and physically, he tries to get you to be more good to yourself. like get you on a better sleeping schedule, on a better diet so you aren't surviving off of two cups of coffee and a bag of chips everyday. he wants to let you know that he cares :)

hes the big spoon

sometimes he is, sometimes he's not, it depends on the day

humor only the two of you understand

inside jokes / corny dad jokes / shit that no one else finds funny yk

thats it

thats all i got :)

lil a/n: this is my first time writing for literally anyone so plz don't hate me 😭😭 k bye :)