#it's just not the same stupid shit that someone Skull would do (/affectionate)

[steamworksfairy]

When you think about it the Arcobaleno are Verde's handlers. A job neither one of them wanted, especially Verde, but someone had to do it.

I mean look at Verde.

If left to his own devices for too long he will create something insane like the anti-trininesette formula. Not even on purpose. He just fucked around and found out. Or at least that's the impression I got from the anime.

To keep things like this from happening at least one Arcobaleno checks in with him daily. In person. If they call he's just going to hide it.

There isn't any real schedule for who visits him when. It's mostly if you're free and in the area do it. It winds up being Lal and Fon most of the time.

Which is for the best. Out of all the Arcobaleno these two are the ones who can keep Verde grounded/stop his experiments from getting out of hand.

You'd think Verde would hate this, and tbh he does, but he also loves it. Not that he'd admit that. It keeps him on his toes and challenges him to think of ways to surprise them. As well as helps him to think of ways to hide things better.

The worst Arcobaleno to watch him is shockingly not Skull, but Mammon. Why? Because Mammon can smell a good business opportunity and Verde has sold his soul for less. If he's able to work on what he wants then he doesn't really care how much he makes from it. Especially if he's too caught up in what he's doing. Hell, he's probably pulling from his own pockets...

So yeah to avoid Verde pulling a box weapons disaster 2.0, Mammon and Verde can NOT be left alone. Ever! Verde is too bad a businessman to be trusted with the esper. And Mammon knows how to scam people too well.

(That said, that does NOT mean I head canon Mammon being behind the bad business decisions that were mentioned as having been made with the box weapons during Future Arc. That's on Koenig, Innocenti, and Verde tbh)

[thefanbasewhore]

Two idiots

Summary || Bucky is an idiot who gets captured during a mission, his girlfriend is an even bigger idiot and goes after him.

Warning/content || This is kinda goofy but kidnapping is a warning I guess? Reader gets a little roughed up.

Paring || Bucky Barnes x female reader (no use of y/n)

Not edited

"Are you kidding me?" Bucky mumbles, head thumping against the metal pole as eyes narrow, watching one of his capturers shuffled in. Which is nothing out of the ordinary, except that trashing girl in his death grip.

Bucky's lips form an unpleased line, frustration shown in the way wrinkles form on the skin of his forehead. Her arms are tied behind her back, no doubt with the same, unbreakable one that burns his skin. She's trashing, fighting to get out of the man's hold but one of the hands tighten against her upper back and force her head forward.

At the very moment she notices her dark haired lover, relief is prominent along her features, a small breath released but she doesn't get much time because the large hand tightenings around her arm, bruises already starting to form as he pushes her forward.

"Ow! Don't be so rough asshole!" Bucky grimaces at her words, watching her face contort with pain. His top lip raises in a snarl, a warning to the man but he doesn't even take the time of day to look at Bucky.

"I thought I told you not to come." She doesn't even get time to reply, instead a small gasp falls from lips as an unexpected hand grips her hair and roughly brings her to her knees. He mentions for her to move over, to be back to back with Bucky before typing them together.

"Leave her alone asshole." Buck's jaw clenches with every word, the belly of muscles popping through showing his disapprovement of the way the man his touching his girl. "Don't be so rough with her."

He expects the stupid, cruel laugh but not the rather large knee cap to the face.

Bucky groans in pain as the skin of his bottom lip rips from the impact, the bitter, metallic tastes floods his mouth as he sucks it between his teeth to nurse the pain. He peers up at the man with a devilish smirk and spits the blood-salvia mixture right on his boots.

"Keep it up Soldat and your little girlfriend will get it." The warning is enough to make his blood run cold and head drop to the floor, not wanting to take the risk.

"Soldat? Bucky, what's going on?" The question is asked as soon as the room is cleared. Bucky feels slightly smaller finger tips reach for his own. Without a second thought he holds them, warming them between his own, a silent 'everything is going to be fine.'

"I told you not to come." Bucky breaks the silence, clearly annoyed, his tone does very little to hide it. Spitting the pooling blood onto the floor once again.

As a a response she rolls her eyes, feeling his fingers intertwine with her own. "It's been three days since you checked in, I knew something was wrong and here you are."

"I specifically told you before I left -."

"I know what you told me!" She sna and pulls her fingers away as irritation wrinkles the skin between her brows.

It's not visible, but Bucky pouts to himself, blindly reaching out to grasp her hands again. "I'm sorry Hun, I just don't want you near these people."

It's not that she's not capable, any other mission she would be his first choice, lover or not. It's the reasoning why, they want the Winter Soldier who is no longer. A part of his life he has promised to get far, far away from her.

"They called you Soldat."

"Not Hydra." Bucky mumbles as large thumb rubs soft circles into the palm of her hand. The heat of his body leaning against her, the suboccipital of his head using her shoulder for some kind of support. He's exhausted from holding himself up, legs ached to stand again. "But they want the Winter Soldier. Keep asking what the words are."

"How did they get you anyways?"

"Don't want to talk about it." Irritation is written across his features, in the way his forehead creases, smile lines dropping downward to follow the line of his pursed lips.

He waits as she struggles, shifting weight from her left to her right, pulling hands apart for the low chance her kidnapper managed to not tighten the zip tie all the way but there is no use.

"Honey, what makes you think If I, a super soldier couldn't get out of here, that you can?"

"Jeeze, you're a grump today." She murmurs as Bucky huffs, baby blues rolling at the comment. Shifting back and forth, pulling as hard as she could until the makeshift cuffs pull the hair on her arms.

"Stop, you're going to hurt yourself." Bucky's tone is sharp, gruff as he leans further against the pole, completely given up.

"Don't Tell me what to do." She argues, Bucky doesn't even have to see it to know she's sticking her tongue out at him.

"Real mature."

"Well you're being mean! I came here to help you --." She begins, but the sharp breath Bucky exhales shows frustration, shifting from hip to hip to relieve the soreness of his backside.

"I told you not to come, I told you three times."

"What was I supposed to do? Leave you here, like this?" Frustration clearly shown by the way her forehead wrinkles and bitting her bottom lip.

"Yes!"

"God, you are so stubborn. What are we supposed to do now? These idiots don't know that you're not the winter soldier anymore." Despite feeling totally hopeless, her eyes run across the room, looking for something, anything to get them free.

"I tried telling them -."

"Wait, wait, they don't know you're the winter soldier anymore." The thought forms a smile on her lips, shifting a little closer to lean into Bucky.

"You just said that." Lack of sleep and food has made Bucky a little sluggish, weak but he's had worse.

"I love you to death, but when I get out of here I'm going to strangle you." Bucky snorts at her words,"I mean that I can say I know the words, given them to you and -."

"They'll untie me." A smile forms at the corner of his lips at the thought. His backside ached, body crunched over for days, he wanted nothing more then to stand.

"Bingo baby, when he comes back I'll tell him." She starts, "We should make noise and get someone's attention."

"God you are so fucking smart, why are you with me?"

"Buck, shut up." He can't help but chuckle, surprisingly clam despite the situation. With soft, circular motions finger tips touch her own, feeling every ridge that so uniquely defined. It's his own way of showing how much he's missed her; it's only been a few days but more then often thoughts of her fill his memory.

"I missed you."

"This isn't the time Buck, we need to get them in her-."

"You look beautiful."

A small smile fills the lines of her lips, bitting down of the fat of the bottom one as she looks down at the floor. "You can't even see me."

"Don't have to honey." The words are sweet and she wishes she could just turn around and kiss his dumb, stupid face with that lopsided grin until he speaks again, "you're the most beautiful girl in the world, even though you can't listen for shit -."

Before she could even comment the clicking of the door has the pair sitting straight as a smirk pulls on lips. "Show time babydoll, start crying."

"You start crying!"

"We have to make it believable! Cry and say that you know the words and the only way you'll give them up is they let you go." He's whisper yelling now as the foot steps clank the floor and every loud echo makes her visibly gringe.

"Okay, okay, shut up already, I am crying to concentrate!" Bucky squeezes his eyes shut, putting on his own little show.

A pair of black boots blur in front of her as false tears blur her vision. While he doesn't touch her, the man sinks to one knee, hovering only inches away. "Why are you crying girl?"

"I want to go home." Bucky has to hold in a laugh at the fake sob but manages to stay quiet. "Let me go, please, please."

***

The moment the words are muttered from the man's mouth, Bucky stiffens, the words effortlessly falling from his lips in German. "Ready to comply."

They don't suspect a think as one reaches over, knife in hand to cut the ropes. Bucky stands at attention, a lonely, dark void in his eyes.

One man observes him, despite how Bucky towers over him. "Soldat, kill her."

The way he stalks over, the darkness in his eyes is so believable that she even think there's a chance that the trigger words did work like intended. Bucky's fingers press against her jawline, angling her to look up. Bucky frowns suddenly, heading the voice behind him. "Kill her."

It all happens so fast, Bucky starts right into action, metal arm connecting with the man's face as blood drips onto the cement only inches away from her current position.

A roar rips from the other man's chest as he fully engages Bucky but with one swift movement Bucky's hand wraps around his throat, hearing gasping breath as Bucky slams him so hard into the ground it winds him.

One at a time they get up, time after time until they both manage to get the upper hand, pulling and pulling at both of his arms until Bucky gets so get up he lets out a grunt as he pushes both away with super human strength.

The problem is one of the men came tumbling right towards her, full body weight knocking her from her seated position into side lying but that's not what worried Bucky. The sound of her skull hitting the ground with such force, it makes him feel sick. With both men down, he hurries towards her.

"Ow." She hisses trying to pick herself up from the ground, the rough rope scratching her wrist. Hands bound behind her back aren't enough to lift her back up, no matter how hard she struggles.

"I gotcha, I gotcha." Bucky's hands find her shoulder, squeezing it affectionately once she's upright and pulling the ropes off with ease. Hands cup her cheeks with side to side motions, steel blues look over for an injury as angles her eyes to meet his own.

The light is suddenly so bright, a thick, white cast makes her wince and as a result squeezing her eyes shit. For a moment everything is gone, a sheet of black as sight disappears behind eyelids. The hand against the back of her head pulls her from a deep void, opening her eyes to a sight of a very, very worried Bucky. His hand is gently tapping against her cheek - to wake her nonetheless, concern laces his eyes, creates a wrinkle of confusion between dark brows.

His lips are moving but there's nothing to hear, he's watching her eyes fall hooded, all color draining as blood pressure starts to decline. It was too hard, she hit her head too hard.

"Honey, hey, hey look at me." It falls on deaf ears, fingers gently prod against the base of her skull, around the curve of her ears, looking for a wound, or even blood but there's nothing. A metal finger presses under her chin, begging falling eyes to give some sign of consciousness. "Does it hurt? Where does it hurt, babe?"

The groan of pain that leaves her lips is a small piece of relief, a hand reaches out to push the hair from frames the soft structure of her face. "Baby? God, are you okay? Can you hear me?"

"Mmmmm." The soft hand reaches out, up the distance of hair arm, over the muscular bulges of his arm before laying flat against the swell of his chest. The hand pushes, trying to create as much distance as possible. It was hard to breath, he was smothering her.

Bucky didn't let up, only pulled her closer until her forehead rest against his lateral clavicle, supporting all her body weight as a nose nuzzles into his chest. He lets out a breath of relief, one hand wrapped around the base of her back, rubbing soothing circles against the skin and the other curling into the base of her skull, with gentle fingers. "You scared me."

"'m fine, Buck."

"Your head sounded like a nut cracking on the pavement." He argues, still examinating for any blood or wound. "I know I call you peanut brain all the time but I was just kidding."

"You are the most annoying -." The words are cut short by a pair of dry, pink lips, lovingly pressing against her own. The full thickness of his bottom lip pressing between her own, long and sweet, filled with unspoken words; Thank goodness you're okay, I don't know what I would do without you.

Bucky pulls away, pressing her forehead against his chest, his arm wrapping around to coddle and away with her. It's mumbled under his breath, "You scared me, baby."

[nessaxc]

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Hands Off || Gojo Satoru

You have a boyfriend, and Gojo isn't very happy about that because you're supposed to be his.

Rating: Mature

Words: 2.6k

Tags: Swearing, Pining, Angst, Obsession, Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Jealousy, Comfort, Feels

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Gojo’s Pov

I watched them from a distance, and seeing the two of them together hurt like hell. She had told me the truth not long after they started dating, and the second she did I wanted to find that shithead and kill him.

He was making her laugh and smile more than I ever could, and it made me feel sick to my stomach. Whatever that little shit just said to her, I was willing to bet it wasn't even funny, not in the slightest.

Her eyes lit up with every word that he said and somewhere in the distance I could hear a heart fluttering. She was happy. I loved it when she was but because it wasn't with me, I started to loathe seeing her like that.

They were at a diner, on a date. Her boyfriend reached across the table and kissed her. That's when I had to leave. I adjusted my position from behind a wall, being careful so they wouldn't see me. I found myself stalking them more than I should have, but I couldn't help it. It was killing me inside and I still put myself through it every time.

I wanted this to end, my feelings for her. My brain throbbed as I kept it inside. I tried to rid of this unnecessary complication in my life. Though, it would always cower in remembrance and click a torch in the back of my skull, searching for a way out. Buried alive, it stayed in rest until the dirt became too cold, the silence too loud. It’s not as if I believe I can't find someone else, it’s that I no longer want to. She asks and I tell her no. She laughs and shakes her head, telling me that I will find someone one day. I violently disagree, I want to stomp my foot and yell at her for being so fucking stupid, for acting like it's so simple. I want to stop moving, I want her to stop moving. I told her that I can't. I just can't, no matter how much I needed to.

My lips and tongue burn with the sensation of even speaking those affectionate words to a future ‘someone’. I cannot. I will not. I won’t. It would kill me.

My mind keeps replaying the image of her head on my shoulder when I took her home one day. The scent of fruit. I wanted to kiss her head. I wanted to kiss her. She had dozed off then, it was likely she didn't know what she was doing. When her head moved away, my shoulder empty, just like the feeling in my chest. There were times when we were just talking, doing nothing in particular, and I would find myself staring at her lips, her heavily lidded eyelids, and thinking about how fucking perfect she was in every way. I just couldn't look away. I don't think she had the slightest idea of the hold she had on me and at first I thought that was the hardest part, but no, it wasn't.

The hardest part was seeing her talk about the fucker she called her boyfriend and how she wouldn't stop giggling when she mentioned his name or when she dared to ask me advice on what she should wear for him one night because she needed another guy's opinion. That lucky shithead. I couldn't bear to think about it, but it always managed to creep into my brain about what he probably did to her that night. Just the image of it made me want to kill him and only then would I be able to make peace with that thought.

I felt so sick one time that I nearly vomited when I thought about how I wished I was him, just so he could look at me in the same light. It made me want to kill him more. I knew one day that I would have to, that I would give into the urge, because he was so fucking despicable. He bore the same relevance as a piece of chewed-up gum becoming a part of the sidewalk, less even.

I remember the day that she introduced me to him, and I know I should have felt proud of myself for not killing him right then and there but I've never been more disappointed in myself than I was in that moment. I wouldn't do it right in front of her, no, I would do it the second I was alone with him, that way he knew exactly who he was dealing with before he was squirming on the floor, begging me to stop.

I had so much trouble just being her friend, so much that I couldn't do it anymore. One of her favorite subjects to talk about was that fucker and it became so hard to listen to that I nearly shouted at her to shut up. My mind was screaming, screaming with how much I needed it to end but thankfully I kept the voice at bay. I told her as gently as possible, through clenched teeth to stop because I was having a hard day, and that silenced her, making the rest of the day with her awkward and uncomfortable. Her voice was soothing and so sweet, and I could listen to it all day but not when it was about him, no I couldn't stomach it anymore.

We started to drift apart, little by little. We still spent time together, it was just different when we did. I found it difficult to look at her after a while, knowing that she wasn't mine. It wasn't fair. She thought she was happy with that shithead she called her boyfriend, but I knew that if she gave me a chance, I would treat her like a queen, make her feel like the luckiest girl alive. I wanted that chance. I needed it. It had to come someday.

Then one day, my wish came true. After months and months, my anguish finally ceased. She called me up one night sobbing, she was an utter mess, I could hardly understand her at first. She told me that she broke up with that shithead because she caught him cheating on her. I couldn't have been happier, the piece of shit did something right for once. In all his life, I bet that was the only notable thing he ever did. Everything was going to fall into place, I'd comfort her for as long as I needed, wipe those pathetic tears off her face and make her laugh, and in no time at all, she'd realize who she was supposed to be with.

I told her that I'd come over to her place so she could tell me everything and I already knew that I had to play the sympathetic friend. When she opened the door to me, her eyes were red and puffy, looking at me with tear-stained cheeks and I nearly said out loud, "Fuck it, that asshole is a goner," but I didn't. I had to wait out. I knew exactly what was going to happen when she fell asleep, there was no way I was going to let that shithead get away with this. I had never seen her so broken before, she was choking on her misery and almost all of her eye make up was trickling down her pretty face.

It was bittersweet. I loved that this asshole broke her heart so that I didn't have to worry about him in my way anymore, but at the same time, seeing her like this, made me want to kill him even more, times a million. There was no way in hell I wouldn't make him suffer for this. She sat back on her bed, her hands burying her face as she wept.

"I should have saw the signs, he would always come home really late and make these shitty excuses," she sniffed loudly as she lowered her hands away from her face, "I... I don't know what I saw in him, I feel like the stupidest person in the world."

"Hey hey, you're not stupid," I told her as I caressed the soft skin on her back through her blouse with my hand, "okay maybe a little for falling for that piece of shit," I said with a light chuckle, and it was enough to make her giggle somewhat, so that was enough. "But there's a lot dumber people than you, like that shithead for hurting you," I gazed into her swollen eyes and she looked back, her sniffing became somewhat quieter. Her eyes nearly smiled but then she quickly turned away, the look on her face disappearing as quickly as it came.

"I feel like I should be mad at him for hurting me, but I'm more anger with myself, for believing everything he said," she uttered hoarsely, trying to let herself breathe before she continued, "and we got in this huge fight, like there was so much yelling and he said that I was only bad for him, that I was holding him back."

That asshole was getting a slow and painful death, everything she told me solidified that. I was so furious, it was becoming almost impossible to control, but I didn't dare let it show. I continued to massage her back, following wherever her eyes went, to find that glimpse of hope.

"He didn't deserve you, I knew it from the second you told me about him," I said, "what he does deserve is to die, for hurting you this much," I blurted out, my mouth was moving before my brain could catch up with what I was saying.

She looked at me like I was crazy but then she quickly said, "Hey, don't say things like that," she sniffed again, "I don't ever want to see him again, but I don't wish death upon him."

Oh but I do. That was a stupid thing to say, stupid stupid stupid. I mentally cursed myself for it but then I continued, "I was only kidding," I lied, chuckling to act like it was just a joke, "I only said that because he's a fucking idiot," I added, "and I would never hurt you like that," I told her, my eyes never leaving hers, not even for a second.

"Satoru..." she whispered my name and stared back at me, her lips parted, and we were close enough that I could feel her breath on my face. In that moment, I think she realized it, and there was no going back. I couldn't go another day without her knowing.

"Not ever," I repeated, "You deserve to be treated like a queen, and I would do exactly that," the words slipped out before I even thought about it further. I averted my gaze from hers for a second, only because I didn't even know how she was going to take it, "I wanted to tell you for a while, but the timing was never right, and then he came around," I nearly hissed just from the mere mention of him out loud.

"All this time?" she asked quietly, so low that I almost didn't catch it.

"Yeah," I replied, "all this time."

She turned away so I couldn't see the expression on her face, and the wait was the most painful thing I've ever experienced. Fuck.

"You don't have to say anything, just know that," I tried to reassure her, and she still wasn't looking at me.

She turned to look at me with a weak smile on her face, and it was enough to calm the voice in my head that was shouting at me.

"Satoru, I... God, I like you, too," she finally said. "I've liked you for a really long time, I just--"

That was all I needed to hear. I reached in and cut her off with a short, soft kiss. Then we pulled away, lips still brushing together, before it shifted into something much slower. She sighed against it, and I felt my heart going a million miles an hour. I licked lightly across the seam of your lips, and she parted them willingly. My tongue bumped against hers, and when she pulled me close to taste me, a moan scraped my throat.

"Satoru," she gasped, and pulled away. "Wait, I don't want to mess this up, too."

I took her hand in mine and kissed the top of it before she could say anymore, "You won't," I reassured her, "I know we shouldn't rush into anything, I just wanted you to know because I couldn't hide it anymore."

She smiled at that, and started rubbing slow circles over my chest, leaning in to press her mouth against mine again. We kissed until we had to part for air, and the voice that was shouting at me, berating me, was now as proud as ever. I didn't regret a thing, everything fell in place just like it was supposed to. She was mine, and that was all I could ever ask for. Her lips were so soft and addictive, I could kiss them all day and never grow tired of it.

She started laughing all of a sudden, covering her mouth to stifle it, and I couldn't be happier that she was laughing because of me. It was easily my favorite sound.

"What's so funny?" I asked.

"Nothing's funny, I'm just embarrassed because this was well, our first kiss, when I look this awful, my makeup is all smudged and runny and I just look terrible," she croaked out in that sweet voice of hers, giggling and her cheeks lit up with a soft hue of pink.

"No, you look perfect," I corrected her, "as pretty as always."

I cupped her cheek in my hand and I pulled her into another lingering kiss, we were both chuckling during it, and it was the most perfect thing being able to swallow her laughter. Finally, she was mine, it made all that waiting and seeing her with that shithead worth it. At first I thought I was dreaming, but for once it wasn't a dream, no it was very real, realer than anything I've ever felt.

Shortly after our make out session, we decided to watch a movie. She begged me to let her pick, because she knew I would pick some kind of horror movie and she told me that she cried enough today. So she ended up picking some dramedy that I found myself not paying attention to at all, because all I could think about was her and the taste of her lips. I replayed the scene of her saying she liked me too in my head a thousand times, and I don't think I would ever stop.

She ended up falling asleep half-way through the movie snuggled up in a blanket. She looked so cute and peaceful when she slept, her chest heaving and her eyes closed in such a way that made her lashes look even more beautiful. I found myself watching her like that longer than I should have.

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[darkromanceblackburn]

Slashers with a so who can read minds and she uses it to make them happy. ( like if they are sad she will cheer them up with whatever they want, they want food she'll make some, want a massage she's on it- need a round of rough sex? She's bent over ready)) (Hannibal, asa, Jesse, and Micheal)) -🐉

Slashers with a s/o who can read minds

Hannibal Lecter

Hannibal wants you to be happy and treats you so, just like a lady should be treated, and he doesn’t speak up what he may want, because your happiness comes first.

Your mind-reading power comes in handy when you notice he’s mood is a little down and you ask him if everything is fine. He just masks it with a smile and a simple ‘Don’t worry about it, darling.’

You aren’t exactly surprised when you find out his thoughts: “What if she isn’t content with me? Maybe I’m letting her down and she will find someone else. Who can love a cannibal?”

You take your whole day off and prepare a romantic dinner with some classical music in the background. You dress as elegant as possible, wanting this to be special.

When he comes late at night and finds this surprise he is stunned. “What’s with all this, love?” You simply just smile and kiss his cheek, your hands taking his coat off. “I thought I could surprise my lover with something special, because you’re very special, my dear handsome cannibal.”

The Collector/Asa Emory

A man who doesn’t speak up his mind about his most vulnerable thoughts. He does speak up when he needs to show someone how stupid they are. With you, sarcasm is the same, but a little more gentle.

You know Asa has something on his mind when he simply locks himself in his study, not coming out for hours, so you take your time and read his mind, which is a mess.

“I wish things could have been more normal, but I won’t let anyone get to me. I hate this world full of insignificant insects...[Name]...I wonder how long will she stay with me.”

No surprise there. You knew that Asa despite his great intellect that always managed to make anyone feel like a complete fool, that love bug of yours was self-conscious.

When he was away, working on his collection, you took your time and prepared an Italian dinner, knowing how much he loved it, along with red wine and you put on your best lingerie.

When he came home he wasn’t surprised, more like suspicious. “What are you doing?” You rolled your eyes and went over to him, kissing his stubbled cheek and smiling up at him. “Treating my precious bug like a king.” you said with a cheeky smile, the lace of your bra could be seen through your see-through white shirt. Asa gave you a lop-sided smirk, his arms wrapping around your waist. “I’m looking forward to this treat.”

Chromeskull/Jesse Cromeans

Jesse is a man that screams pure masculine confidence, but even he can have sometimes moments when he locks himself away from the outside world. You noticed so when he hadn’t been so affectionate as usual.

Been able to read his mind was perfect seeing how he was mute and you were feeling so sad for him when you heard his thoughts. “I hate this. This face...How can someone love...this. I look like a monster.”

You knew how sensitive this topic of his face was and you hated that he thought that you didn’t love him because of such a small impediment.

As he was busy in his office at home you took your time and got yourself dolled up; hair, make-up, and that black lacy lingerie with skull-patterns that you knew he would be all over you.

When you entered his office he looked up only to stop mid-typing on his laptop. You had that innocent smile on your face. ‘What are you doing, doll?’ he signed as you waltzed over to him, getting on his lap as you massaged his shoulders. “Giving my handsome man what he deserves.” you whispered, his brown eye-widening at your words and his hands tightened on your hips.

Michael Myers

This man was the perfect definition of no words, no emotion and you loved to get into his mind to hear his thoughts. Of course, most of them were bloody and gruesome thoughts that didn’t really surprise you.

One time when he came from a hunting night, all blood over his coveralls, you heard a particular thought that made you stop what you were doing.

“It hurts so much. I hate this shit. Bastard with a gun. Bullets.” You looked at Michael and he narrowed his eyes at you, knowing that you were reading his thoughts.

Getting up you went to take the medical kit, walking over to him. “I’m gonna help you and I don’t want to hear a word from you. Go sit on the couch.” you said in an authoritative voice. He was still glaring at you but did as you told.

You started to undo his coveralls, the upper part, and tried to gently take the bullets out of his chest. Thank God it didn’t hit something fatal. “I like how [Name]’s hands feel.” You couldn’t help the grin on your face. “Aww...You do care.” you said only for Michael to roll his eyes at you.

[idontcaretbh]

Secret for the Mad

(kinda) slow burn Ironstrange fanfic. Originally posted on AO3 by my account Toxictimefanfics. Please come bug me on Discord! https://discord.gg/dNrb37M

Chapter 1: Magic (Mystery Skulls)

Doctor Stephen Vincent Strange is broken. He’s done his fair share of healing though it’s becoming far too much for him to do alone. He is among the newest Avengers, as such he’s staying with all the others in the Avengers tower. It’s hard to get used to, given that he’s constantly surrounded by the most dangerous people on Earth. Something he can’t seem to comprehend is Stark. Anthony Edward Stark is quite the character. He’s arrogant, egotistical, vain, and worst of all he’s self centered and narcissistic. He’s all of these things that annoy Stephen to his very bones, then why does he also have to be kind, caring, affectionate, and charitable, not to mention down right gorgeous?

Stephen is awoken one night due to the constant pain in his hands. With a sigh he gets up and exits his room. It’s late, four in the morning to be exact. Once in the hall he proceeds to the living room balcony wearing exactly what he wore to bed in the first place, horrible bright pink sweatpants and an old gray sweatshirt. He’s surprised to find someone else on the balcony by the time he gets there. Not wanting to scare whoever it is too bad Stephen decides to knock on the edge of the open sliding glass door, the mystery person whirls around to reveal a disheveled Tony Stark.

“Stark.” Stephen says joining Tony at the railing, looking out at the beautiful view they have of New York.

“Strange.” Tony says in reply turning back to the view.

“You look like shit, couldn’t sleep?” Stephen asks the other with a playful grin. In return Tony only laughs and punches the taller man in the arm.

“What about you all high and mighty? Certainly the ‘Sorcerer Supreme’ needs his sleep?” Tony asks in his all too common childish voice.

Stephen chuckled then responded, “I asked you first asshole.” To which Tony sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

“It’s just we’ve all been through a lot lately. Sure the whole Thanos thing left everyone rattled but everyone’s seemed to have bounced back from either literally dying or seeing their best friends die.” He paused for a moment letting the other respond.

“You haven’t ‘bounced back’ though, have you?”

“Isn’t that obvious? The kid literally died in my arms while begging me to make it stop. I couldn’t stop it. And you know what? I blamed you for part of that.”

“Oh really? And why’s that?”

“You literally gave Thanos the fucking time stone after telling me and Peter that you wouldn’t mind sacrificing us if it meant protecting the damn thing. So I blamed you for giving the madman the power he wanted.”

“Truth be told I did have a plan, doing something stupid just happened to be part of the plan.” Strange shrugged with the end of his sentence.

“It was such a fucking stupid plan, Strange. You all died and left me and Nebula alone on Titan. We literally had no idea what to do. She’s actually great company once you get to know her.”

“I’ll have to talk to her then, probably even thank her for helping you save everyone.”

“Hell yeah, you’ll probably like her, she’s actually super funny once she’s comfortable around you.”

“Noted, but Stark you were always part of the winning plan.”

“I was?”

“You were the one who killed the titan were you not?”

“Well yeah but anyone in my position would have done the same.”

“But it wouldn’t have worked Tony!” Stephen nearly yelled in his frustration. “If it were anyone else it wouldn’t have worked. It had to be you.” He said quietly, returning the silence, only this time it’s extremely uncomfortable.

“I literally thought I was going to die so many times Strange. You scared the hell out of me, you know?” Tony sighed. “I was so damn scared Stephen.” The conversation took an odd turn when the scientist moved his hand to rest on the doctor’s making the other hiss in pain. “Oh sorry! I didn’t realize that would hurt you.”

“I thought you were more observant than that Anthony.” The sorcerer sighed and looked down at his hands. “Terrible car accident, crushed my hands.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

“It’s alright it’s not your fault, I suppose I should wear those gloves less?”

“Oh my GOD yes! Those things are hideous! They don’t go with the rest of your usual outfit at all! Yellow doesn’t go with red or blue!” Tony defended much to Stephen’s amusement.

“I won’t argue with you. I assume nobody knows just how mangled my hands are since I hide them all the time?”

“Damn straight. And here I thought I had you all figured out Strange.”

“Is that so?”

“Well, other than literally all the fucking wizard shit I don’t understand. You’re an ass.”

Stephen chuckled a bit at Tony’s response but thought of a simple solution to him not understanding: Show him.

“Well, I could show you some things if you’d like.” The sorcerer said, turning to the other with a grin.

“That sounds real cool doc, but I can’t have you destroying the place. Not that I’m accusing you of wanting to, You just can’t be too careful with all the Avengers in one building.” Tony rambled and was surprised to hear the taller man start laughing at what he had to say about the situation.

“I have a solution for that.” Stephen said matter-of-factly, raising his hands and performing a spell in one fluid motion, instantly what looked and sounded like shattered glass surrounded them, “this is the mirror dimension, what happens in here doesn’t have any effect on the real world, what happens here, stays here. Oh! And nobody can see us.” He rambles with a grin.

“Alright then Dumbledore, let's see what you've got.” Tony responds, amusement evident in his tone.

“First off, never call me that again, secondly, you're going to want to hold on to that railing.”

“What are you talking about Stra-” Tony starts before the part of the balcony he was standing on shot into the air Stephen following soon after. “What the hell was that Strange?!” Said man stepped onto the platform Tony was standing on and made his own shrink back down.

“Easy, I'm simply showing off.” He said with a wave of his hand, in a split second the platform both men were standing on broke off and began lazily drifting over the city.

“I don't usually have the luxury of seeing the city from this height without something needing to be saved.” Tony breathed out. “It's amazing, you know, despite the glass shards.”

“I'd rather not even attempt bringing us out of the Mirror Dimension, manipulation of the world is practically impossible unless we're here.” Stephen explains, moving his hands to bend and distort the multitude of buildings in the city below.

Tony watched it happen with a look of astonishment and pure wonder. Stephen thinks it's adorable, even if he knows the other man is trying to explain everything he sees with every form of science he can think of.

“What else can you do?” Tony asked out of the blue after roughly ten minutes of watching the distorted buildings.

“Well, you've seen a lot of what I can do when we're in a fight. But here.” Stephen says, conjuring a small shield. “This thing can actually block a lot more than you'd think.”

“Do you think it'd be able to take on both of the repulsors of my newest suit?”

“Probably.” Stephen chuckles and gets rid of the shield.

“You never answered my question by the way.” Stephen turns to the engineer with a questioning look.

Tony sighs before explaining. “ I asked why you're up this late.”

“It's my hands actually. I've gone through so many surgeries that the pain is unavoidable at times.” Stephen explains, holding up his shaking, heavily scarred hands for the other to examine.

“I might be able to help with that.” The engineer replied with a yawn. “We should probably head back though, people will be wondering where we disappeared to.”

Confused, the sorcerer asked for the time, they had been talking for almost two hours meaning some of the early risers would be getting up soon.

“You're right.” He relented, setting everything in their surroundings back to normal and opening a portal out of the Mirror Dimension. They parted ways promising they'd talk more once they'd had some sleep.

[decaffeinatedcatastrope]

EDIT:  jfc i forgot the readmore i’m sorry for the massive post on your dash xD So this is a snippet/draft from the big fic-in-progress, but it’s holiday appropriate and really cute.  

warnings: mentioned character death (he got better) smoking, mentions of drinking, cursing, and naughty santa innuendo between two emotionally constipated magical skeletons who can’t decide if they wanna date each other or punch each other.  except one knows he can’t be punched or he’ll die and he uses it to pester the other skeleton to no end.

-ahem-

Red and Sans are invited to Tori’s for a small gyftmas/christmas party.  It’s technically Red’s first christmas.  (Asgore is not invited for reasons, Red finds out later)  It’s...a party.  Red is a bit uncomfortable being included in the festivities, and feels a little out of place.

----- Just as Red was considering the eggnog as an escape from his state of constant, unending anxiety that someone was going to turn around and stab him, the whole party went quiet for a moment.  Everyone turned their attention to the front door, and the group of children started making an ungodly noise.   “the fuck??”  Red muttered, willing himself to get closer to the group so he could see what was going on.  Wait. That was Sans.  That was very clearly Sans, dressed up in a red, velvety santa suit and a shitty fake beard.  He hadn’t even bothered to take off his ratty slippers.  Holy shit.  Red fumbles with his soda as he tries to clap one of his hands over his mouth before he bursts out laughing.  Holy shit.  Holy shit.   Suddenly everything was worth it.  The anxiety, the stress, being around people who cared about him too much for whatever reason;  this made it all worth it.  This made his whole fucking year, seeing Sans dress up in such a stupid-- Then Papyrus screamed “SANTA!!  YOU MADE IT TO THE SURFACE!!” and practically tackled Sans.  The two skelebros laughed, and Sans patted Papyrus on the back.  They were happy. Red felt...something kinda warm and fuzzy curl up in his soul.  He gave Sans a genuinely affectionate smile, and he felt the tiniest bit proud of him for doing something like this for his brother.  Even though he’s damn sure Papyrus knows exactly what’s going on, and is just playing along because it makes them both happy. Red decided to keep his mouth shut, and tried to will the warm fuzzy feelings to chill for a bit while Sans started handing out presents to various party goers.  Papyrus and Frisk were the first, then he moved onto a couple of the Snowdin kids, Undyne and Alphys, and then Toriel. By the time he got around to Red, Red’s amusement had resurfaced, and he was trying his best to behave. He failed.  As Sans started digging around in his bag for Red’s present, Red gave him a mock-offended look as he scoffed.  “wait, no way.  after all the shi--”  Toriel gave him the Mom look.  “--stuff i’ve done this year, i’m not on the naughty list?” Sans looked a bit caught off guard, but recovered quickly with a shrug.  “eh, santa is forgiving, especially after what you’ve been through--” “damn, i’m guess ‘m gonna haveta try harder next year.”  Red gave him a wicked grin. Sans’ smile soured a little, and he shrugged.  “...well in that case, you get nothing.”  Off he went to the next person. “wh-”  That wipes the smile off Red’s face.  “wait, no, i--” “nope, too late, you’ve been bad.”  Sans stated, ignoring him. “hey!  wh...”  Red frowned at him, crossing his arms to keep himself from flipping the shorter skeleton off.  Sans almost wanted to go back and poke fun at him for actually pouting, but kept his act going. --- Later on, Sans was finally done being Santa.  After listening to Papyrus’ long explanation about how he’d missed out on meeting the jolly man in the red suit yet again this year, he just wanted to sit back and enjoy some time to himself.  Which meant finding Red.   He looked around the house, but it seemed like Red had vanished.  He had a good idea where his double probably was, though.  He asked Tori to make two cups of hot coco, then headed for the back door where the porch swing was.  For some reason, Red always ended up back here. Sure enough, Red was on the porch, although the swing was abandoned in favor of the steps.  And he was smoking again.  Sans was pretty sure it was still the same box of cigarettes Red had from the wedding. Sans didn’t try to be quiet when he opened the back door, so Red wouldn’t be too startled.  He did look back to see who was coming, but the relief on his face when he realized it was Sans was tangible.   “hey.”  Sans called, approaching quietly.   “...hey.”  Red replied, taking a drag of his cigarette.  He paused when Sans offered him a mug of coco.   Looking between his cig and the coco, Red eventually flicked his cig into the snow and took the offered mug with a warm smile.  “...thanks.” “no problem.”  Sans replied, sitting next to him on the steps.  “too much?” “...yeah.”  Red muttered, taking a sip of his coco.  He brightened.  “this is good.” “i can’t take credit, Tori made them.” “still good.  and ya still brought it to me.”   Sans hummed slightly, before nudging Red.   Red fumbled in an attempt not to spill his coco, and chuckled.  “what?” He thought he could see the faintest flicker of nervousness as Sans’ smile tightened a little.  “...you uh.  do you still want that present?” “thought i’d been too bad for presents.”  Red teased, nudging Sans back.   Sans took a moment to stare into his coco, before he set it aside and fished a thin, wrapped package out of his inventory, and held it out for Red to take.  “you deserve something, especially after i caught you pouting like a spoiled child after i told you you wouldn’t get one.” Red threw him an only slightly irritated glare and snatched the gift from him.  He was expecting something stupid, like Papyrus’ gift; a cookbook, except every recipe had ketchup in it. He wasn’t disappointed.  His gift was also a book, but it was a...coloring book?  The word “FUCK” was emblazoned on the front of it in fancy text, and framed with all kinds of artsy shit.   “the fuck is this?” Sans burst out laughing, and Red had to hold himself back from chucking the stupid thing at him.  Sans was doing that thing again, that dumb honest laugh of his turning his soul to mush with good feels. Once Sans managed to get a hold of himself, he held out a cheap pack of markers.  “it’s a coloring book.” “...Sans, it says FUCK on it.” “yeah, i saw it and thought of you.  open it.” “gee thanks, you ass.”  Red scoffed, flipping through a page or two.  He was assaulted with more curse words in fancy, flowery script.  Then, a horrible idea popped into his head.  “looks like a perfect activity to do with the kid next time i watch ‘em.” Sans’ amusement shifted to horror.  “oh god no - Tori would kill me--”  His arm snapped forward faster than Red expected in an attempt to snatch back the gift, but Red managed to hold it just out of the smaller skeleton’s range.   Red laughed as Sans tried to climb over him after the book, totally ready to chuck it across the porch if he had to.  Sans paused and gave him a strange look, a twinkle of something in his eye lights before he started trying after the book again with renewed vigor. Red kept laughing and fending him off until he felt something softly brush his skull.  A pastel shred of paper fluttered into view, and Red followed it with his eye lights until it landed on his lap.  The book was forgotten momentarily, and he didn’t even react when Sans snatched it from him. Then Sans noticed the slip of paper Red was oh so carefully holding in his hand.  A ticket, for the supernova event at Mt. Ebott observatory next year.  The same ones Red had died trying to get, weeks prior. Red said nothing, instead his gaze shifted and the two of them locked eye lights.  Sans was starting to get a little nervous.   “...you...i uh.  heard there was this big thing going on at the observatory next year, thought it’d be neat?  so i got two tickets, and uh, maybe you...could go with me?”  Sans grinned at him, but Red just continued to stare.  “i mean, if you wanted to.  i thought maybe...space was your thing too.  like mine?  i, uh...” Sans was beginning to worry that the aftermath of that whole situation might be a painful memory for Red, that it was stupid to dredge that pain back up during a time they were supposed to be happy, that-- Sans tensed when he felt Red loop one of his arms around the back of his neck, and leaned forward to click his teeth against Sans’ own, his soul welling with warm and fuzzy feelings.  He could pull away if he wanted, Red wasn’t holding onto him tightly.  But...friends don’t kiss, Sans. Sans leaned into the kiss, his arms slipping around Red’s waist of their own volition.  It was gentle, not heated or desperate.  Warm, calm, comfortable.  The two of them stayed like that for a good while, until Red pulled away first. They stared into each other’s eye lights until Red looked down at the ticket clutched in his free hand.  “...i uh.  i’d like that.  the space thing.  with you.”  Red’s voice sounded oddly tight, and it felt like his soul was getting ready to flutter right out through his ribs.   Sans wasn’t much better off.  He quickly retracted his arms to fiddle slightly with the fluff on the hem of his costume.  “good!  that’s...good.  ‘cause then i’d have an extra ticket.”  He cleared his non-existent throat and gave Red a grin.  “so uh.  you okay?” “...yeah?”  Red asked, quirking a browbone at Sans.  “why?” “no reason.”  Sans replied quickly. When it was clear Sans wasn’t gonna give him a real answer, Red scoffed and fished out his wallet.  He tucked the ticket inside, so it didn’t get...misplaced.  “it’s so hard to take you seriously in that stupid costume.”  He mused. That broke Sans out of his nervousness.  “oh, yeah i saw you trying so hard not to make fun of me.  good for you on behaving.”  Sans gave him a pat on the back. “don’t patronize me.”  Red snapped, before his expression shifted into something...warm.  Happy.  “i just...i didn’t wanna spoil it for Papyrus.  he was so fucking excited to see you show up in that stupid - sorry, to see Sansta show up tonight.” Sans shrugged.  “eh, he knows it’s me.  it’s just a thing we do.” “i figured, but he still enjoyed it.  it’s just...nice to see, ya know?  you two, doin’ nice shit for each other.  you’re a good brother, Sans.” Sans wanted to ask if Red had ever done something like that for his brother, but...something told him that he should probably keep his mouth shut about it.  “uh, thanks.” The two of them sat in awkward silence for a while after that.   “...so if you hadn’t decide to behave, what would you have said?”  Sans asked curiously.  It felt like poking a hornets nest, but he was genuinely curious, and the warmth in his soul from that kiss was stirring up other thoughts. Red snorted, before dissolving into downright laughter again, and he leaned on Sans for support.  Sans’ soul flipped in his chest at the sound. “haha, i can’t, i can’t say it.  i don’t wanna get kicked outta the house over somethin’ that stupid.” Sans casually glanced around the porch.  “we’re kind of already out of the house.” That made Red pause.  “...yeah, i guess we are, huh?” “so uh.”  Sans tugged a stray piece of fuzz off his sleeve. “why do you wanna hear what i’da said so bad?” “i need a laugh.  and a reason to put you on the naughty list.” Sans felt a twinge of regret the moment the words had left his mouth.   “oh really?  you need a reason?”  Red gave him a wicked grin, his gold tooth glinting in the dim flicker of the christmas lights around them.   “well, uh, i have plenty of reasons, but i just--”  He went silent with shock as Red maneuvered himself into Sans’ lap, the larger skeleton straddling his legs.  “uhhhh--” “oh, i’ll give you a reason.”  Red gave him a heated look.  “...how about i jingle yer bells, Sansta, and then we...fffuck i can’t--”  Red suddenly burst into laughter again.  “oh my god, that’s fucking terrible, even fer me.  ‘m sorry shortstack.” Sans was silent, frozen as his eye lights bore into Red’s own.  Red’s grin fell slightly, and his laughing ceased.  “...hey, i warned you it’d be stupid.”  His face lit up faintly red, and he moved to climb off of Sans when he felt Sans’ phalanges dig into the crests of his hips, holding him in place. “uhhhh.”  Red muttered. “uhh.”  Sans replied, looking between them.  He chuckled sheepishly.  “...i snow you wanna be on the n-ice list, but wow.  flirting with Sansta?  that’s definitely ultra-naughty list material.  i might have to stuff your stocking with something better than coal.” “holy shit." Red wheezed and started laughing uncontrollably again.  “oh my god - how - how long did you stay up last night thinking of naughty christmas puns?  holy shit, Sans!” Sans laughed too.   What was he even doing?  Had Tori put something in his coco?  “i just wanted to see if we were on the same page.”  He pointed up at the lights twinkling along the railing.  “while your pun was bit lacking, i’m de-lighted to see that you at least tried.” “we both know puns are shit and you prefer knock-knock jokes, you peppermint flavored gremlin.” “wow i take it back, you didn’t even try there.  back on the normal naughty list.” Red scoffed in mock offense. “didn’t even try??  well shit, lemme lick yer candy cane and find out what flavor it is then~” Sans’ face practically went navy at that, and he uttered a soft “fuck.”   Red snorted, pleased with that reaction.  “so, do i win now?” “y-yes.”  Sans managed to reply, hiding his face against Red’s stupid christmas sweater. “you gonna gimme a present?”  Red whispered against Sans’ skull, digging his sharp phalanges into the cheap, velvety red suit. “oh god.  uh.  not that.”  Sans shivered slightly, trying so hard not to do anything naughty on Toriel’s back porch.  But his mind was swimming with terrible puns.   “what, afraid i’ll bite?” “yes.  very yes.”  Sans was very aware of what those teeth could do.  And he wanted them no where near his...oh god. “wow, you trust me so much.”  Red deadpanned, before just...hugging Sans.  They were still in that slighly awkward position, with Red in Sans’ lap, but Red was comfortable, dang it.  He gave Sans a sheepish grin.  “hey, relax.  ‘m just playing.” “no you’re not, you’re corrupting me.”  Sans whined. “huh?” “i can’t - i can’t stop thinking of dirty puns.  oh god.  what have you unleashed.” Red laughed.  “don’t blame me fer that!  you were probably doin’ that long before i came around.” “no, i--” “hey.”  Red started.  “knock knock.” “...uh.  who’s there?” “coal.” “coal who?” “coal me if you hear santa commin’.”   Sans snorted, and Red felt some of the tension leave him.  Red smiled.  “why does santa always go down the chimney?” “i dunno, why?” “because it soots him.” Sans snorted again, before laughing. Feeling brave, Red continued.  “knock knock.” “who’s there?”   “...tanks.” “tanks who?” “tanks for givin’ me a good christmas, Sans.” “...o-oh.  you’re welcome Red.  you deserve it.”  Sans looked away with a soft smile, his face dusted with cyan.   Red shrugged.  “lies, but i’ll take it.  hey, why does Santa always land on your roof?”

“why?” Red leaned forward and whispered “because he likes it on top.”   That cyan shifted back into navy, and Sans gave Red an absolutely incredulous look.  “really?” Red grinned.  “i dunno, Sansta, you tell me.” The noise Sans made was amazing.  Red couldn’t help but laugh.  “okay okay, i’ll stop.”  He replied, trying to climb off of Sans again, but Sans still held him fast.  “...okay, my legs are fallin’ asleep here, Sans.”  He relaxed again, but jolted when he felt something that was definitely not a lump of coal, nope. “yeah?  well uh...”  Sans looked absolutely mortified, but he leaned in close and whispered something so quietly, Red almost didn’t hear it.   But he did hear it.  And his face went absolutely scarlet.  “...uhhhhehe...fucking hell, Sans.  that’s uh.  wow.  you sure yer not the one on the naughty list instead of me?” Sans still looked mortified, but he managed half a grin.  “so...uh, wanna move this party back home?” “i think we should.  ‘cause we’re probably gonna stain this fancy suit of yers if we continue.”  Red slipped his arms around Sans’ shoulders, quietly steeling himself for a shortcut. “yeah.”  Sans looked at the cups of abandoned coco, which had long since gone cold.  They really should return them.  Then he felt Red shift in his lap again, and Sans’ mind was made up.   --- “...nng.”  Red’s sockets fluttered open the next morning as the muted light of a cloudy day shined in through the window.  Right into his face.  Willing himself further into consciousness, he felt around for the familiar lump that was Sans, only to find him missing.   Swinging his arm behind him, it collided with his missing lump.  Sans let out a quiet groan at the assault.  “ow.  why.” “couldn’t find ya.”  Red mumbled, rolling over so the light wouldn’t bother him anymore.  “bright.” “mm.  i thought you liked sunlight?” “’s christmas an’ ‘m too full of lazy right now to care.”  Pulling Sans into a cuddle, Red relaxed and tried to go back to sleep. Sans snorted and let himself be cuddled.  Red’s bones still buzzed with his magic, and Sans smiled sheepishly. “merry christmas, Red.” “yeah.” “stars, you must still be tired.” “shuddap an’ go the fuck back to sleep.” “i would, but i don’t think i can.  the official Papyrus wake up call should be soon.” “the what.” Suddenly, there was a pounding knock on their door.  Red jolted in surprise.   “SANS, RED!!  WAKE UP YOU TWO LAZY BONES, IT’S CHRISTMAS!!  THERE’S PRESENTS!!”  Papyrus called excitedly, before his thudding footsteps bounded down the stairs. Now that both of them were sufficiently awake, Red groaned.  “i don’t wanna get up yet.” “we gotta.  if we don’t, i don’t think Paps’ll let the whole ‘we might not be decent’ thing stop him from barging in here to--” “’m getting up.”  Red replied, rolling himself off the bed with a muffled THUMP.  The quilt followed.   Sans laughed, before rolling himself off the bed after him.   “oof - get offa me.”  Red growled, his voice muffled by the quilt.   “huh, you’re actually kinda comfy.”  Sans replied, letting himself relax on the pile.  Red easily shrugged him off and stood up, balling up the quilt and tossing it onto the bed.   Sans let himself remain on the floor for a moment as he watched Red get dressed.  Red ignored him for the most part, but Sans didn’t miss the way his cheekbones were tinted ever so slightly scarlet.   “...i think i’ll make pancakes.  that sound good?”  Red asked after tugging his christmas sweater over his head, drawing Sans out of his thoughts. “yeah.”  Sans yawned and sat up, before retrieving a pair of shorts from the floor and tugging them on.  He wasn’t even sure if they were his.  A pair of clean sweatpants landed on his head.   “i don’t feel like having yer bro throw a shit fit over you wearing crusty floor shorts.” “they’re not crusty.”  Sans replied, picking at a questionable stain that might not quite be ketchup.  He frowned.  “sweatpants it is.” There was a clatter downstairs, and the two of them shared a look before Red left the room. --- Sure enough, Papyrus was gearing up to make them a breakfast feast.  Red yawned and took a moment to pour some coffee from the pot right into his mouth before going over and wrestling the cast iron from Papyrus’ grip.  Thankfully, Papyrus didn’t fight him.   “GOOD MORNING, RED!  MERRY CHRISTMAS!”  Papyrus beamed, before clapping an oven-mitted hand over his mouth.  “Was that too loud?” Red quirked a brow bone at him, and set the pan down on the stove.  “...no?  you don’t gotta be quiet in the house, Paps.  ‘s just us.” “...OH.  I THOUGHT YOU AND SANS HAD GOTTEN INTO THE EGGNOG YESTERDAY, WHICH IS WHY YOU WERE NOT UP EARLY, LIKE YOU NORMALLY ARE!”   “nah, i decided i wanted to remember my first real christmas without a hangover.”  Red replied simply.  “pancakes sound good?” “BUT RED, HOW WILL YOU COOK WITHOUT YOUR HANGOVER INDUCED GENIUS?” Sans took this moment to enter the room laughing.  Red shot him a glare, before giving Papyrus a tired look.  “i think i can manage pancakes.  i’ve made ‘em enough sober now that they’re not a complete mystery.” “CAN I HELP?” Red smiled. “’course, you can help me get the ingredients together.” Papyrus quickly went to go raid the fridge for ingredients.  “CAN I HAVE A SNOWMAN SHAPED PANCAKE?” “...i can try, i guess.” “can i have one shaped like a reindeer?” “yer gonna get a circle and yer gonna fucking eat it.” Sans chuckled and sipped on his coffee.  It was actually really sweet, just how far Red was willing to go to try and make Papyrus happy.  Yet something was still bothering him... Red’s brother.  Other Papyrus.  From what little Red had told him, and the... questionable things Alphys had told him, it really bothered him to imagine his sweet, naive little bro as...well, someone like Red.  Someone with LV.  Violent.  Paps had the potential to be dangerous, yes, but not the intent.   It would’ve had to be something devastating to get Papyrus to fight back to the point he gained LV.  

[glittermork]

Modern Royalty AU pt. 3

part 1 part 2

Summary: Jaemin’s mom is suing the king.

(Alternatively: Renjun and Jeno finally have that talk they’ve been meaning to get to for the last three months, and Jaemin is alive.)

Jaemin hasn’t woken up in a hospital since he was seven and his father bashed an empty soju bottle over his skull. Back then, the scar had been cool and the schoolwork he’d missed was easily made up. His mother had been by his side crying when he’d woken up. His father had given him ten bucks and the new Spider-Man comic for lying to the nurse about how he’d gotten hurt.

Roughly sixteen years later, he wakes up to the sound of someone sobbing.

“Hnnngnhghn,” he says, and the sobbing stops with a choked gasp.

Jaemin peels one eye open and regrets it immediately. Sitting on Jaehyun’s lap on the left side of his bed is Taeyong. (Fuck. Jaemin doesn’t know how to deal with people when they cry! This isn’t part of his job!)

“Oh shit, he’s awake,” he hears Jaehyun mumble, and he just barely resists the urge to roll his eyes, (mostly because he suspects that it would really fucking hurt), as he struggles to sit up. Unfortunately, this is also the exact moment his body decides to let him know that there is a bullet hole in his fucking torso, and maybe he should take that into consideration when he tries to make any sudden movements.

Collapsing on the bed in an uncoordinated flop, Jaehyun smirks at him and Taeyong frowns. “Lay back down, you dummy,” Taeyong sniffles, collecting himself from his boyfriend’s lap. Jaemin would spare a thought to wonder why he’s not worried about being caught, if it didn’t feel like his entire body was on fire. He should probably stop jumping in front of bullets.

“Na Jaemin,” Taeyong begins his lecture, and Jaemin groans. “Do you have ANY IDEA how fucking worried we were about you? You almost died on the operating table! TWICE! I thought we were really going to lose you the second time! What the fuck!”

“I almost died again? Jesus,” Jaemin mutters.

Taeyong splutters. “The fuck do you mean—AGAIN?!”

“You know I had a job before this, right?”

“Well, yeah, of course, but—you know what? No. Shut up. I was worried! And I thought your mom was going to actually strangle my dad and—“

“Hold up, my mother is here?”

Taeyong stares back at him blankly. “You got shot, Jaemin. Of course she came.”

“Your mom is, like, really fucking mad at you, by the way,” Jaehyun says. Jaemin assumes he’s just here for Taeyong’s emotional support.

“Shut up, Jae,” Taeyong groans, drying his tears on his boyfriend’s sweater. “I’m gonna go get a nurse. Play nice or I’m not putting out for a month.”

“Damn,” Jaehyun mutters under his breath, and sits back down in his chair next to Jaemin’s bed. “Seriously, though, kid, the doctor handed your mom your nipple piercings in a plastic bag ‘cuz I guess they had to take them out for surgery or some shit and she fucking, lost her mind.”

“Great! Thanks, Jaehyun! That’s exactly what I wanted to hear, two minutes after waking up from a coma!”

“I didn’t know you had nipple piercings,” he continues, and Jaemin thinks this is maybe the last conversation he’d like to be having right now. He’s tired. and he misses Jeno and Renjun. “Aren’t you, like, five? I didn’t know they let toddlers get nipple piercings?”

“First of all, I’m twenty-three,” Jaemin grumbles, glaring at him. “And I’ve had them since I was eighteen, so fuck you.”

Jaehyun holds his hands up defensively. “Hey, you do you, man, all I’m saying is—“

Jeno and Renjun, of course, decide that it’s the appropriate moment to make an appearance. Seriously, fuck his fucking life. The door flies open, and standing there, in all their slightly-haggard, stayed-at-the-hospital-for-over-24-hours-glory, are the two (2) loves of his life. Jaemin kind of wants to go back to sleep.

“Fucking hell, Nana,” Renjun mumbles, and promptly bursts into tears. Jeno looks mildly alarmed but he’s also holding up his boyfriend with one arm and staring at his other boyfriend (they really need to have that talk) in a hospital bed, so, whatever. Together they sort of half-limp-drag-walk to the unoccupied side of Jaemin’s bed, and now Jaemin has to fight the urge to cry as well. So maybe getting shot is god-awful, but as long as these two are safe, he’d do it again in a heartbeat.

“Please never do that again,” Jeno breathes, and buries his face in Jaemin’s neck. Jaemin wonders if maybe this is some sort of punishment from god or whoever the fuck is up there, for falling in love with the prince and the prince’s boyfriend. There’s no other explanation for why they’re both climbing into his bed, and crying on his shoulders and holding his fucking hands.

“Um. What is happening here?” Jaemin asks Jaehyun, who is currently taking pictures of them for his blackmail folder.

Jaehyun gives Jaemin the most deadpan look, and sighs. “There’s no hope for you.”

He’s about to make a weak retort, when Taeyong, followed by a line of medical professionals, the king, and his mother, burst into the room.

Jaemin sighs. It’s going to be a long morning.

—

“What I don’t understand,” his mother is saying, but Jaemin hasn’t been listening since she started ranting about the Pride photos again. “Is why you didn’t think to tell me that boys you were in love with were the prince that you’re supposed to be guarding and his boyfriend?”

Jaemin shrugs half-heartedly, and licks another spoonful of pudding. They’ve gone over this four times already. He wants to take a nap. He misses his. . . .charges. (Are Jeno and renjun considered his charges? Is that the right word for it? Does he need to maybe cool it with the pain meds? Yeah, probably.)

“Could you keep your voice down?” He winces, and glances out the door. It would honestly be the cherry-on-top of the bullshit-sundae, if he got fired for being in love with Jeno and Renjun after he quite literally just took a bullet for them. Maybe it’s what he deserves.

“Oh, shut up,” his mom rolls her eyes, brushing a lock of Jaemin’s hair out of his eyes, and kissing his forehead. “You know they love you back, right, baby?”

“Mom, I—“

“No, you listen to me, Na Jaemin.“ Shit, she full-named him. “Those two boys have been here since the moment you were admitted. They’ve been crying over you all night and all morning and if you think that doesn’t mean they love you too, you’ve got another thing coming, honey.”

“Mom,” he sighs, and closes his eyes. The Academy didn’t train him for this. “They love each other. I’m sure they were just worried about me because we’re friends. Or they felt guilty that I took a bullet for them. Which they shouldn’t, it’s my fucking job. I’m probably just—reading too far into things. They’ve been in love since they were, like, infants, you know? I can’t mess that up. And I don’t want to.”

His mom gives him an unreadable look, and huffs, shaking her head. “you always were too stubborn for your own good, baby,” she says, and pats his thigh.

“Mom,” he sighs, and hides his face in the sweatshirt Jeno had given him because ‘I know you get cold easily’, (Jaemin had practically swooned right on the spot). He’d looked nervously to Renjun after that comment, but the older boy was just smiling affectionately at both of them, hand easily continuing to stroke the hair at the nape of Jaemin’s neck, his other resting clasped with Jeno’s over Jaemin’s lap. The entire morning had felt unreal.

“Jaemin,” his mom sighs back in the same tone of voice, and gives his sweatshirt a pointed look.

So maybe they do have some things to work out. But he just can’t get his hopes up. He’s doesn’t know what he’ll do if they get crushed.

“Don’t give me that look,” he blushes, tugging the hood over his greasy hair, and grimacing. “When’s the soonest I can take a shower?”

“I don’t know,” Donghyuck replies, poking his head into the room to announce his arrival. “You should’ve thought of that before you jumped in front of a bullet, idiot.”

“Hyuck!” Jaemin grins, making grabby hands at the giant plushie Hyuck is balancing with a bouquet of sunflowers and what looks like the entire boxed set of Buffy DVDs Jaemin keeps in the back of his closet.

“What’s up, Nana,” he grins, handing his mother the flowers and setting the DVDs on his bedside table. “How’s my favorite little bodyguard doing?”

“Shut up, Hyuck,” Jaemin rolls his eyes, hugging the soft bumblebee plushie to his chest. “I'm guessing the flowers are from your other thirds?”

“Yeah, Mark said sorry he couldn’t be here, poor baby’s been arguing with the charity ball security team all morning. The plushie is from Jisung, though.”

“Yikes,” Jaemin winces, “tell him I’m sorry I can’t be there to help him. And I know it’s from Jisung, I got his for him for his birthday last year.”

Hyuck shrugs. “I forgot about your weird symbiotic relationship. Anyway, clean up is Mark’s best skill, Nana. Besides, you should tell him yourself—he hasn’t stopped anxiety-ing over you all morning.”

“Tell him the flowers are lovely, too!” His mother interjects, gathering her purse and jacket and kissing him on the forehead. “I’m gonna go get lunch and find that dumbass king of yours—“ “Mom! Promise me you won’t—“ “I’m not promising anything!” She finishes, calling over her shoulder as she swings out the door. Jaemin would be assed to stop her if he didn’t already know what a losing fight looked like.

Hyuck rolls his eyes, and peels open Jaemin’s other pudding. Jaemin just barely suppresses the urge to pout.

“What kind of shit are they feeding you in here, anyway?” He asks, licking the lid, and Jaemin slumps back onto his pillows.

“Mush.”

“Gross. Okay! I’m done with small talk, time for the real reason why I’m here: you took a fucking bullet for them.”

“Hyuuuuck,” he whines, smashing his face back into the bumblebee plushie to avoid Hyuck’s knowing gaze. “Can’t you just be a normal visiting friend and tell me I was brave or some shit?”

“Fine. You were brave! And incredibly fucking stupid! Now, please tell me how you call that ‘a little crush that I’ll get over eventually’?”

“In case you haven’t noticed,” Jaemin mumbles into the pillow, “it’s kind of my fucking job.”

Hyuck sighs dramatically, and plops down on the newly-vacated chair. “Hopeless,” he mutters, and shoves another spoonful of low-fat pudding in his mouth.

—

The nurses had cut him off after two seasons of Buffy, so Jaemin and Hyuck had elected to play quiet music and talk about food. A subject neither of them could ever grow tired of.

Hyuck’s not really sure how that turned into this.

There are tears streaming down Jaemin’s face. It’s only two in the afternoon. The Weekend by SZA is playing for the sixth time in a row. Hyuck is five seconds away from murdering him in cold blood. His bullet wound kind of throbs but maybe it’s just his heart breaking into a million pieces.

“You’re not a side hoe,” Hyuck groans, snatching Jaemin’s phone and turning it off.

“Fuck you,” he sniffles, leaning back on the crinkly hospital pillows, “I’m a home wrecker. And I’m ugly.”

“You’re so incorrect about both of those things that I’m not gonna even respond to that! Okay, I think that’s enough phone-time. How about we just talk, okay? Doesn’t that sound nice?”

Jaemin sniffs. “Maybe,” he admits, sinking slowly into his pillow pile until the only visible part of him is his hair sticking out like an unruly tree branch.

Hyuck snorts. “Do you want to go to take a nap, baby?”

“Shut up.” Jaemin replies, and promptly passes out.

“Absolutely fucked,” Hyuck sighs to himself as he tucks the younger boy in.

—

Renjun has never been certain of anything as much as he and Jeno.

JenoJenoJeno. He could talk about him for days on end. He could wax-poetic about his eyesmile and his teeth and his hands for the rest of his life. Really, he plans to. Jeno, Jeno, Jeno. The boy he’s loved for as long as he can remember.  

And while Jeno is lovely and beautiful and Renjun’s very best friend in the entire world, he has a tendency to hang off Renjun’s every word. And while that’s, admittedly, fantastic, it’s not always what Renjun needs. Sometimes he needs someone to push back. Someone who can meet him blow for blow. Someone who’s not afraid to talk back.

In other words, Renjun needs Jaemin.

JaeminJaeminJaemin. His ears, his nose, his cheeks. Renjun could think about him for hours—days—weeks, on end. He feels like the wind is knocked out of him every time the bodyguard makes eye contact with him with that gorgeous smile. That smile. Renjun has dreams about it.

And, if his suspicions are correct, (fucking hell, please let them be) Jeno needs him too.

“So,” says Jeno after fifteen minutes of him and Renjun staring at each other across the unforgiving plastic benches of the hospital cafeteria.

“I think I’m in love with your bodyguard,” Renjun blurts out, and then immediately freezes.

“Oh, good,” Jeno sighs in relief. “Me too.”

—

“You can’t sue him,” Taeyong sighs for what feels like the hundredth time.

“Of course I can’t sue him,” Jaemin’s mom rolls her eyes. “He’s the fucking king. I’d lose in a heartbeat.”

“Then what, exactly,” Taeyong pinches the bridge of his nose, “was the point of you wasting my entire day?”

She shrugs, and takes a neat sip of the Diet Coke the prince had bought her after the first twenty or so minutes of arguing. “Just buying my idiot son some time to figure his shit out.”

—

Jaemin wakes up to the two people he’s most recently almost died for. It’s a pleasant surprise, considering he thought he’d be fired by now. Shit. Maybe they wanna do it in person?

“—min? You’re not listening to us at all are you?” Renjun chuckles, and Jaemin feels his cheeks heat up in embarrassment. So much for not being obvious. These meds are seriously fucking him up, huh?

“Jaem,” Jeno continues for Renjun, grabbing his boyfriend’s hand. Despite his better reasoning, Jaemin let’s his gaze rest painfully, just a second too long, on their clasped hands, and sits back against his pillows with a wince. Apparently, it’s time to be friend-zoned by the first people he’s been interested in since he was 20. What a sad end to a short career as a professional Kevlar vest.

“Jun, and I have finally had a talk, and—“We love you!” Renjun blurts out, and then promptly buries his head in Jeno’s shoulder as the prince chokes out a laugh in surprise. “Yeah,” he nods hopefully, staring expectantly at Jaemin as he scratches the back of his neck. “We love you. And we want you to be ours. That about covers it.”

Jaemin is absolutely floored. There are very few people in the world who Jaemin considers worthy of his complete love and protection, and two of them are standing here in his room looking at him like he’s the last piece to their 2000 set jigsaw puzzle, and this cannot be real.

He’s distracted from his own frantic, rambling thoughts by Renjun’s delicate, light fingertips brushing away a tear. That’s an interesting development, he hadn’t realized he’d been crying.

Through a few disgusting, choked out sobs, he manages to warble in his stupid, watery voice, “I love you too.” And then lips—he doesn’t know, and, frankly, doesn’t care who’s—are on his like a lifeline, and there’s nothing he feels like thinking about more right now, than how good it feels to finally, finally be complete.

In Renjun and Jeno’s strong, warm, arms, it feels like home.

—

There’s something to be said about the persistence of the paparazzi. Somehow, someway, they always know where to be to make the most absolute inconvenience of themselves and to make their subjects’ lives just that much less private. Truly, a marvel of a job.

There is also, however, something to be said about the sheer terror of going head to head with Jaemin’s mom.

“LISTEN UP, YOU FUCKING CREEPS,” she yells, and Jaemin doesn’t bother listening to the rest. “That was a pretty good start, I think,” Renjun comments, happily playing with the strings of Jaemin’s hoodie. He’s sitting on Jaemin’s lap and they’re both snuggled under the hideous blanket some nurse had draped over them when they’d gotten situated on the wheelchair. It still feels unreal to Jaemin, just as unreal as the sweet kiss Jeno drops on both of their foreheads as he skirts around them to deal with even more paperwork. Who knew even the prince’s bodyguard had to sign release forms?

“I can’t wait to get home,” Jaemin murmurs shyly into the base of Renjun’s neck, receiving a mouthful of soft, baby-pink turtleneck for his efforts.

“Me too, baby,” Renjun sighs, leaning further into his boyfriend’s embrace.

*click*

Their moment is interrupted by the snap of Jeno’s phone camera, as the prince shrugs at them sheepishly. “What?” He laughs, turning back to his paperwork. “It was perfect lock screen material, don’t judge me!”

Jaemin blushes, thinking back to his own lock screen, a picture of Jeno and Renjun he’d taken on one of their many forbidden, late-night, this-never-happened adventures. Renjun is on Jeno’s back, kissing Jeno’s cheek and holding up a peace sign, and Jeno is practically beaming at the camera, eye smile in full power. It’s Jaemin’s favorite picture of them ever, and he’s certainly spent an embarrassing number of nights staring at it desperately. Oh, if only he knew what was coming for him.

When he shows Renjun, the older boy gasps, immediately shoving it in Jeno’s face. “Oh, baby, this is one of my favorite pictures of us too! But, if I’m being honest, it’s missing something.”

“Hey!” Jaemin pouts playfully, trying not to grin. “It was the best I could do with my shitty old phone! I promise I’ll take many, many more.

“He didn’t mean the photo, Jaem,” Jeno laughs, leaning over to wrap Jaemin’s slightly-shaking hand in his warm, steady one. “He meant you.”

“Oh.” Jaemin, gasps, tears welling up in his eyes. How did he possibly get so lucky?

“Awwww, baby,” Renjun grins brightly at him. “We’re just gonna have to take a million more,” he shrugs.

Jeno nods solemnly in agreement, as he takes the safety brakes off of the wheelchair. Renjun slides off his lap reluctantly, taking Jaemin’s hand and tucking his blanket tighter around his shoulders.

“Ready?” Jeno grins, flicking his favorite pair of baby blue heart-shaped sunglasses down from their perch on the top of his head. Jaemin makes a mental note to buy him more colors when Renjun playfully whines that he wants to borrow them.

“Let’s go, you fucking dorks,” Jaemin laughs, tugging on Renjun’s hand and leaning his head back gently against one of Jeno’s arms. Renjun squeezes back and Jeno grins down at him, leaning down to peck Jaemin’s nose, and they’re out the door in mere seconds, to the flashes and screams of paparazzi and reporters alike.

Jaemin instinctively stiffens in his wheelchair, but relaxes immediately as both Jeno and Renjun squeeze his respective hands tightly in comfort.

It’s going to be fine. He has everything he needs, right beside him.

[under-latest-nostalgia]

Got Scars on Our Future Hearts (But We Never Look Back) [7/7]

Where Carlos keeps disappearing, Evie is scheming something, Mal knows and won’t say and Jay just wants to struggle about his new found crushes in peace.

Alternatively, Carlos is in a secret underground rock band and is totally crushing on Jay. Jay finds out about said secret band and finds the lead totally hot. Evie planned it all from the start and Mal likes watching her emotionally stunted male friends fumble about their love lives as much as she did. (Even more alternatively, the Punk Band AU I talked about with be-a-thief-in-the-night​)

Chapters: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7]

<AO3>

Carlos presses the back of his hand to his mouth. His breath hitches as he feels his throat tighten and he pushes his thumb in between his teeth and screams at himself not to cry.

His back slides down the wall opposite of where he just made out with Jay. Like an idiot.

Even in his stupid rockstar persona, literally throwing himself full force, he couldn’t make his dumb crush look his way at all.

He slams his head against the wall, tears of frustration threatening to fall as his lungs struggle to breathe. He needs to breathe.

Why can’t he breathe??

That’s how Beck finds him, crouched on the ground, eyes squeezed shut, and hyperventilating over nothing. He feels his body being picked up and hugged but he doesn’t want to think. Doesn’t want to remember or feel. Carlos lets his conscious fade as he hiccups Jay’s name into empty air.

Jay enters the dorm with his heart still racing. Whether from him running what he felt was ten miles in thirty minutes or from his realization that he was in love with his best friend. He wasn’t sure. How can he be so stupid?

He runs a hand through his hair as he tries to compose himself before he enters the room. His heart is pounding as he turns the doorknob.

“Hey Carlo-” He raises his hand in greeting but drops it immediately as he sees an empty dorm room. Carlos wasn’t here.

Great.

Just when Jay was either gonna be an idiot and confess. Now he had to deal with his nerves until Carlos decides to show up. Or maybe he’ll just die of heart palpitations. If that was possible. Whatever. At least if he did, he didn’t have to deal with this constant longing in his chest that he never noticed before. (How'd he not notice? It aches like a bitch.) Jay lets himself fall sloppily on the bed as he groans in frustration at his non-plans being ruined. He stays like that for a solid hour before he hears someone knocking aggressively on his door.

Jay opens the door and he’s on the floor.

“You asshole!”

His cheek throbs with the familiar feeling of getting punched in the face as he looks up to an angry-looking Aurodonian hissing. He's shaking his hand around like one does when they aren't used to punching people in the skull. He probably literally hurt himself punching Jay’s face from the looks of it.

“What the fuck?” Jay says, confused, as he stands and frowns at this unwelcome visitor who is glaring at him like he had murdered this dude’s dog in cold blood. Which he'd remember, Jay thinks.

“Why the fuck did you lead him on, huh?” his visitor says, “You think just ‘cause he’s a rock star he doesn’t have feelings?”

Jay figures from context clues that this is probably one of the Scarred Devils unmasked. He honestly, genuinely, feels terrible for what he did. But. He did just realize it himself.

“I’m-I’m sorry,” he says, Jay wasn’t going to excuse himself. He did a shitty thing. Just ‘cause he didn’t know he was already in love doesn’t mean it wasn’t shitty. “I- This isn’t an excuse, but I didn’t know I liked somebody else until that moment. I just… I was suddenly thinking about my roommate and- wait why am I telling this to you?”

“Your roommate?” the other says, a hint of disbelief in his voice and some of the anger in the air dissipates. “Seriously?”

“Uh��” Jay says, confused now, “Yeah? Not that that’s any of your business? Look. I’ll apologise, I’ll keep away, I’ll do whatever. I know I fucked up and I-”

“No. Shut up. Your an idiot. He’s an idiot.” The band member sighs, “Both of you are so fucking stupid.”

Jay frowns, now that’s just rude.

“Elliot?” his dark haired visitor calls out to the hall, “It’s fine, bring him in. Don’t punch this guy.”

He hears a faint, “Seriously Beck?” from the hall and footsteps coming up.

“Fix our friend, dumbass.” presumably Beck says, “Just confess and stop being stupid.”

Jay is dumbstruck as another person walks into his dorm, now holding a boy with a familiar head of wild curls. The person, probably Elliot, glares at him as he sets Jay’s best friend down with a familiarity that makes Jay’s gut burn. The man quietly walks out, glaring at Jay the whole way. Beck turns to him a final time, shaking his head, “Y’all both fucking stupid.”

Jay should probably take offense to that but he was more fixated with the fact that the two just asked Jay to “fix their friend” which apparently meant Carlos. Who looked like he had gone through some shit with the way his cheek was tear-streaked and his eyes swollen.

Jay walks up to the bed and reaches his hand out to either wake the other or tuck him in before he notices Carlos’ outfit.

It… it was the same as his Scarred Devil’s was. Wait. What?

His breath hitches as he properly inspects his best friend’s outfit, consisting of a very familiar but not in the Carlos-way jacket and pair of fingerless leather gloves.

“Fuck.” Jay whispers to himself at the realization that his best friend was the singer.

Who made out with him.

Who he pushed away.

For his best friend.

Who was here.

Who made out with him.

“Carlos, you dumbass.” Jay whispers, half-affectionately and half dripping in guilt

He crawls onto the bed beside the platinum-haired boy, brushing a hand through the other’s curls like he had imagined earlier.

“Carlos.” He says near the other’s ear, trying to nudge him awake. Jay hears Carlos murmur which Jay knows is a sign that the boy was waking up. “Carlos, come on.”

“Carlos.”

Carlos' body feels heavy. His eyes itch from the last dredges of tears drying.

“Nnn?” Carlos feels his body start to drift awake against his will, god he wished his body would stop trying to wake up please. He feels something warm above him and he wonders whether he fell asleep in the band van again.

“You didn’t tell me you were the Scarred Devil.”

Carlos’ eyes shoot open at the familiar voice saying some truly dreaded words. He’s somehow face to face with his best friend. Who he made out with. As Scarred Devil. Who apparently knows. That he’s the Scarred Devil.

Carlos was so fucked.

He struggles to get free when he realizes he’s in Jay’s grip, “I’m- fuck- I’m sorry Jay I didn’t. I didn’t know I’m- I’m sorry.”

Carlos starts babbling semi-incoherently. Apologies and excuses and wishes to be freed but Jay seems like he’s hearing none of it. Did he want to punish Carlos? Not that Carlos didn’t deserve it. He made out with the guy without fucking asking like a normal person.

“Carlos- carlos! Calm down.”

He shakes his head, how can he calm down. He was a dick. An asshole. A class A creep. A total and comple-

“Mmf!” Carlos’ voice is muffled. By lips. Jay’s lips. Jay’s lips which he had already felt but thought would never feel again ever in his life. Jay’s. Lips. Carlos thinks his brain is pretty much short circuited.

“Better?” Jay asks, pulling back but still keeping Carlos down by his wrists.

“What?” Carlos sputters, confused, “But- you-you! You said you liked someone?”

“Yeah.” Jay says with a shy grin. “Yeah, I do.”

Carlos glares, hurt, “Then? Why’d you kiss me? That’s just fucking mean since you know I like you. Dick.”

Jay shakes his head with an amused laugh that Carlos doesn’t find very amusing.

“Your friend’s right, we’re both idiots.”

“What the fuck, Jay?” Carlos says, annoyed now.

Jay just rolls, pulling them into the reverse of their position before, Jay pinned under Carlos’ arms, “I like you dumbass. I… god this is stupid… I abandoned you ‘cuz- ‘cuz I realized I was thinking of you. Normal you. Non-rockstar you. I love you, Carlos de Vil.”

Carlos’ breath hitches. “What?”

“I- I love you?” Jay says, a bit of the confidence draining from his voice, replaced with a hint of worry and embarrassment. “Do- was I reading this wrong? I mean, fuck, do you not like me and I’m just some dickhead who-”

Carlos kisses Jay to shut him up. Carlos thinks he’s starting to see a pattern.

“I love you too. We are both idiots.”

Jay laughs, sounding shy and happy and sweet and Carlos melts internally at the usually tough-talking boy’s face flushing.

“Yeah.”

FIN.

A/N: It's finally the final chapter fam, it was nice going on this multi-year journey with y'all. If any of y'all started reading this when it came out, this one's dedicated to you. <3 HMU with anything descendants related i would love to talk to y’all.

[ohmypreciousgirl]

Otayuri Rec List

CANON

Come Alive by Ren [1,006]

"Can I sleep with you?" Yuri asks, and Otabek's heart skips a beat.

Something More Intimate by Val_Creative [1,294]

Dating usually brings up personal stuff Yuri dreads to let anyone know. It's probably why he avoided it all together. Without trying, Otabek sees Yuri for who he is. He accepts what Yuri tells him without question or taunting.

Hamster in Kazakh is Still Hamster by mousapelli [1,498] {Part 1 of This is Otabek's Hamster}

Otabek has a hamster. Yuri regrets teaching him how to use instagram.

A Roe By Any Other Name by mousapelli [1,848]

The only thing keeping Yuri on his feet is pure spite and the promise of the 4AM Tsukiji Market trip that the first morning in Tokyo definitely necessitates.

on the verge of running into your arms by RennieOnIceCream (Hitsugi_Zirkus)   [1,876]    

“Yurio is a good boy -- uh, when he wants to be,” Yuuri said with a smile. “But in all I think he’s not very used to friends and not very...affectionate.”

“Not cute at all!” Viktor agreed, though he was grinning through the insult.

“Just be patient with him and don’t be surprised when he shows his spikes,” Yuuri said, attempting to smooth Viktor’s words over. “Either way, we’re glad you both can get along with each other and be friends.”

Otabek wasn’t quite sure what the two of them meant -- Yuri had yet to reject Otabek in any way. In fact, with everything Otabek asked, Yuri always accepted him inside his heart without question.

Unexpected by henriqua [1,902]

“Your hair,” is his simple response that definitely doesn't give any answers to the questions in Yuri's mind.

Feet first (Don't Fall) by gunboots [2,361]

Otabek wishes that he could unstick the words from his throat, that he could just explain to Yuri why he matters. The proximity of someone he's been looking at for so long, this close—makes it almost impossible.

The hotel pool by womanroaring [2,525]

“Mila was flirting with you,” Yuri burst out, flicking his eyes up to a spot on Otabek’s shoulder.

“Was she?” Otabek asked, and Yuri lifted his eyes up to his face again. Otabek’s face had relaxed a little but his eyes were even more intense than usual, like he wanted to read Yuri’s mind through his facial expression. Yuri scowled again and looked down at his shoes.

“She’s not really my type,” Otabek added lightly after a second or two.

come over here & overwhelm me by xintong [3,348]

In the summer Yuri turns 16, he grows 6 inches, drowns Viktor in his own tears, and falls in love.

Hands On Education by BewareTheIdes15 [3,945]

Sometimes Yuri forgets that Otabek is older than him. And not just in the "has four years of seniors on him" way or the "his old-ass body is going to crap out of competition before Yuri’s does" way or the "doesn’t have to go to fucking tutoring everyday because he graduated, the lucky bastard" way. Because, like, yeah, all of that’s true, but on any given day it doesn’t particularly matter. They mostly do all of the same stuff, and know all of the same people, and have the same job, so, like, what’s the big deal, right?

Tongues.

Tongues are the big deal.

💖 every time I try, every time I win bythissupposedcrime [4,715]

At least no one’s brought up couples costumes. Yuri isn’t sure how Otabek would react to a live recording of him leaping over a table to fight a reporter, a symbolic stand in for the death of Yuri’s sanity and Victor’s cutesy legacy. He guesses not well, and that is enough to hold his tongue.

Or, Otabek is naturally romantic, Yuri is naturally clueless, and somehow they work it out.

Back and Forth by kiyala [4,840]

Yuri convinces Otabek to get snapchat, just to send selfies of himself making faces at Victor and Yuuri. He gets more than he expected.

 💖 Two Make a Pair by mousapelli [5,009]

It started out as a joke, socked feet on hardwood flooring, but somehow the pair skate became something much more for Yuri and Otabek in the end.

Sequel: Come When Invited by mousapelli [4,458] Companion piece:  Good as Gold by Beltenebra [1,719]

Have not. Will not. by mongoose_bite [5,583]

Yuri knew perfectly well that Victor hadn't always been a moron; he'd looked up to him for years. As far as he was concerned all of Victor's problems stemmed from a single source.

Determined to learn from Victor's mistakes as well as his successes, Yuri took the simple vow not to follow in his footsteps.

No matter what happened, he wouldn't fall in love.

One for the Road by Lumieres [6,129]

“Please, take me away —“ Yuri’s text had been so abrupt that Otabek had to glance at his phone once more to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

(Or: Yuri is so focused on his career, he doesn’t notice Otabek slowly falling in love with him.)

I Won't Put This One on Instagram by teslatempest [6,132]

“Oh. Shit.”

Otabek sat up, a little concerned by the tone of Yuri’s voice. “Is everything alright?”

“Remember how we agreed we weren’t going to tell anyone we were dating until after this season?”

“...yes?”

Darts Made of Hummingbirds by LiviKate [6,881]

Yuri is struggling with his body as it changes. Otabek is struggling with his feelings about it.

Otabek is struggling with the fact that he even has feelings about it.

down for the count, and I’m drownin’ in ‘em byunhookingstarswithoutpermission [7,180]

“Why didn't you reply to my texts?” Yuri feels himself ask, and he immediately cringes. He almost expects Otabek to laugh at him, but what he gets is a dead-serious boy who replies, “I've forgotten my charger in Kazakhstan”, and he feels like he's going to burst either into tears or into hysterical laughter. 

“You- you are so stupid.” Yuri's voice breaks on the last syllable. “I told you, it didn't matter if you couldn't make it to my birthday.” 

Otabek lies against the door frame and raises an eyebrow at him. “You don't want me here, then?”

Sonata in A Major by Lumieres [8,035]

Yuri is like a meteorite, caught in his atmosphere. If he doesn’t take care of him, he’ll completely burn up, and there won’t be anything left for him to salvage.

(Or: Three times, Yuri and Otabek kiss, only to never speak about it again.)

5 firsts + 1 time it all made sense by aphhun [8,726]

Yuri pressed his forehead against Otabek’s and closed his eyes, nuzzling in contently. The words were unspoken, but by the way, Otabek’s arms around him tightened and drew him into the embrace further? They both knew what hung in the air between them. It didn’t need to be said; maybe it was better if it wasn’t. The easy realization they shared was more than enough.

💖 who can sing both high & low by infiniteandsmall [8,848] {Part 2 of a shore, a tide (no clock, no end, transmit: transcend!)}

Yuri likes how people guess his age right after he shaves his head. He likes how it feels when Otabek rubs his hands over the stubble on the back of Yuri’s neck.

He’d liked the feeling of Katsuki’s hands, firm but gentle, wrapped around his skull as he’d passed the clippers over Yuri’s head in smooth, practiced strokes.

It’s not until a few months after he shaves his head, when he shoots up to one-hundred-eighty-five centimeters, that he realizes he misses the quiet thrill he hadn’t even noticed he’d felt when waitresses in restaurants had called him “ma’am.”

💖 Endurance and Peach Tea by chapstickaddict [11,447]

It takes three years for Yuri to figure himself out and get his head on right. He drags everyone along for the ride. Otabek is the only one to go willingly.

💖 My soul is an empty carousel at sunset. by dawnstruck [13,857] {Part 1 of Demi!Yuri}

Yuri grows up and grows older and grows into himself. Otabek helps. It just takes a while to get there.

💖  i walk my days on a wire by idrilka [14,526] {Part 1 of in medias res}

Asia sucked without you,” Yuri admits eventually after a moment, as he falls backwards onto the bed, his t-shirt riding up. It must be still hot in Saint Petersburg, if the forecast is to be believed, but Yuri has the hood up, obscuring his face at this angle. “But we all went back to the hot spring run by Katsuki’s family after the Fukuoka show, so I guess it wasn’t that bad.”

Somebody to Love by aphhun [16,654]

They've been best friends for four years, since Barcelona. Yuri Plisetsky is positive that he's thrown it all away in one miscalculated half-drunk instant.

CANON DIVERGENCE

But I’m Not There Yet by sarahyyy [4,535] {Part 1 of songs about love}

“Are you not going to read the article?” she asks, flopping onto his bed. “Look who ranked second, just after Phichit Chulanont.”

Otabek reluctantly scrolls down, and oh.

#2 - Yuri Plisetsky

In the embedded Instagram photo just under that subheading, a very grumpy Yuri is cuddling a very grumpy-looking cat. The caption reads: I found the cat version of me at the shelter today. #iknowisaidnomorecats #canyoublameme

AU

this speed's too much to stop by sarahyyy [1,496]

“Do you…” the man trails off, frowning. “Do you dislike Prince Otabek?” he asks quietly.

Yuri arches his eyebrows. “I’ve never met Prince Otabek,” he says truthfully. “But if he has to go to all this trouble to find someone to marry him, then logically, there must be something wrong with him.”

2843 miles by henriqua [2,124]

Yuri bites his lip and glances out of the window, feeling like even the very gloomy Saint Petersburg is laughing at him and his miserable crush on Otabek, even though Yuri grimaces when he thinks of the word crush.

admiration in falling asleep by viscrael [4,000]

Rooming with Otabek is fine. It really is—they’re best friends, Otabek is the perfect roommate, and there’s nothing about each other that they don’t already know to make it weird.

💖 science of the social by aphhun [8,862]

Otabek, young CEO and darkhorse of the wildly famous Altin family, isn't exactly on top of his social media and engagement with fans and business opportunities alike. Enter Yuri Plisetsky, social media expert and his new personal advisor. Beware the comments section of Instagram.

💖 infinitesimal being by sarahyyy [9,816]

Yuri snorts, and pushes his glass of ice tea away. “Alright, it’s been fun listening to your story, but I actually do have other more important things to do than to listen to you telling me that I’m destined to be your bride.”

He stands, and Otabek follows suit. “If it’s the terminology you have an issue with-”

“It’s not,” Yuri assures him. “It’s more of the fact that everything you’ve told me so far sounds like a goddamn fairytale that only children believe in.”

💖 hood & glove by Fahye [12,473]

"I don't mess with the fae," Otabek says.

"I'm not asking you to mess with them," JJ flat-out lies.

💖 Gravity by Fahye [15,902] {Part 2 of Yuri!!! in Space}

His Grace the Archduke Yuri Plisetsky wins the Ballistic Grand Tournament in his debut year, at the age of fifteen.

Things go downhill from there.

[it-refused]

Working Title: Forward, Back (5/?)

Summary:  Knowing what’s going to happen doesn’t mean Sans can stop it.  Maybe he could’ve put it off forever.  Sans decides to go.

Rating: T

Part Summary: Sans has a bad dream and hangs out with Alphys.  There’s robot tag.

>>First Part<<

C/N: Mental Illness

In the middle of a warm sunny day and surrounded by people, Sans felt a shock.  It was like ice water was dumped down the back of his spine.  

He stopped walking and slowly turned around, 180°.  There was a shape, there, behind him.  There was a face, like a mask, with two asymmetrical eye sockets staring right into his.   The figure had a white outline that filled up with bright light that made the inside of Sans' skull loud with static.

Sans slowly lifted his hand.  He had a headache already.  "hey."

He thought he saw shapes, words, shaking in the air.  Sounds, too, almost like a voice.

"sorry, pops," Sans heard himself say.  "didn't get a word of that."  

The voice cut off. Sans blinked rapidly, trying to clear the afterimages from his vision.  Dad was gone.

The person Sans was walking with asked him if he had stopped for a phone call.  

"nah.  you didn't see the weirdo following us?  heh."  

No one else would see him.  Sans knew that.  Dad was shattered across time and space. There were a couple bigger pieces hanging around.  He wasn't so much stopping for a visit as he was just a little bit always there.

Well, there was no fixing it.  

That night he uncovered his homemade telescope and fussed with it for a little while.  He'd tossed a tarp over it after his last visit from his dad, intending to leave it outside until it rotted.  The months hadn't been kind to it, but it hadn't gone completely back to its natural garbage state quite yet.

"hey, pops," Sans said.  "you there?"  

Everything stayed quiet.  

"oh well.   look, you trying to tell me something?  you've been showing up a lot lately.  now's your chance.  you show up right now, i'm all ears.  heh."  He finished setting up and peered through the eye piece.  "lay it on me."

No visions, no sound.  Whatever triggered the visits wasn't happening.  Sans hung around and found all the planets that were visible.  If anyone asked what he'd been up do, he'd tell them he was "checking out uranus" and they'd probably leave it alone.  

The night stayed quiet.

--

Something felt off-kilter.  The smell of dust in the lab was thick, overpowering. Sans was looking at blueprints, and was sure he had never been doing anything else.

He couldn't make out specific words or lines on the blueprints anymore, but they seemed to have meaning, anyway.  They shifted and he was struck by a realization.  The answer had been staring him in the face.  He could fix everything, now.

Sans knew he needed to call Alphys so she could bring over materials and confirm he was correct.  He reached for his phone.

He woke and, not entirely aware yet, he fumbled for his real phone and brought up Alphys' number.  

Sans rubbed his head and groaned.  What a stupid dream.  At least a real nightmare made a cool story.  

Before he set the phone back on the nightstand, he took another look at the picture he had set for Alphys' contact info.  She was in one of her cosplay wigs.  Undyne had her arm over her shoulders, and Alphys looked happy.  

The details of the dream were slipping away, but that didn't matter. When he'd had that one before and tried to hold onto them, his burst of inspiration always turned out to be something like rubbing the broken machine with vinegar or sticking a car engine into it and having Papyrus drive it.  His idea was always something random related to what he'd been doing that day.

Sans wished his own head would quit jerking him around.

Grillby made a confused crackling sound and pushed at the hand Sans was still holding the phone in.  His meaning was clear enough.  He should put it down and go back to sleep.

"snack time.  want me to grab something for you?"

Grillby dropped his head back down.  

"more for me."

Sans carried his phone into the living room.  Soozen was on the couch, an entire box of cookies (box included) halfway in her mouth.

"hey, kiddo," Sans said.  He noticed she had an unopened bag of chips next to her, too.  Maybe Papyrus was right when he said there was a major growth spurt on the horizon.  "let me have some chips and what's happening here is between you and me."  

She nodded.  The pact was sealed.  

He carried his phone and a handful of chips into the kitchen and settled in at the table.  It was a little after four in the morning.

"heeeeey, alphys, my best buddy."  

"S-sans? What the hell are you--wait.  is-is someone sick? Dead??"  Her voice went up in pitch the longer she talked.

"nah."

"W-well, good!  I was about to say 'someone better be dead' and then I thought 'what if they actually are, Alphys, oh my god?'"  

"you up?"

"No!  Well, now I am!!  I guess!"  He heard her sigh.  "I didn't want to wake up Undyne answering my phone in the middle of the night, like a jerk."

Yeah, this was a bad idea.  Still, Sans felt himself relaxing, hearing her voice.  She'd really tried to help him, back in the day.  

He hadn't been the best friend to her.  He wanted to excuse himself because he'd been dealing with a lot at the same time she was, but that was probably just a cheap excuse for being lazy.  

"geez, it's later than i thought.  sorry, buddy."  

"Uhoh. I know what this is!"

"uh. what is it."

"It's been years since we had a, you know, club meeting."  

"oh right."  

"W-well then, get over here.  I, uh, have a couple movies we could watch and I can grab some snacks!  I mean, if you want."

It was their club for monsters with shit sleeping schedules.  It met only in the middle of the night and they were the only members. Alphys was the founder and she had given Sans the title "first officer."  He hadn't wanted it.

Sans didn't reply right away, so the next thing Alphys said had a nervous edge to it.

"...that's not why you c-called, is it?  God, sorry, just please tell me what it is so I can climb out the bottom of this trash can, okay?"  

"nah. that was it."  He'd just wanted to hear her say something, but getting out of the house actually sounded like a good idea.  "i'll be there--" he took a short cut "--two seconds ago." He spoke from directly behind her.

She jumped and electricity bolted out of the end of her phone.  She was still holding it to her ear, so the lightning singed the floor.  

A panel in the wall opened up and a small robot rolled up to the spot and hit it with a fire extinguisher.  

"Sans! Just for that, we're watching the movie I know you'll hate."

"i'll watch anything," Sans said.

She patted the little robot on the head.  "Even if you don't like it, you should at least appreciate it.  The animation is top tier even if the fanservice almost crosses the line into exploitation.  Uh.  It’s sci fi!"  

They went downstairs into her work room.  Robot parts were scattered around and plans were tacked up on the wall next to pictures of anime characters Alphys found inspirational.  There was an old, worn couch in the back of the room for her to pass out on if she'd worked too long without taking a break, and a very expensive looking television in front of that.  Sans would've gone for the nice couch and the crap TV if he'd been the one making the choice, but everyone had their own priorities.  

"This really takes me back!"  Alphys said, as she set up the television.  "Feeling like garbage in some dirty basement in the middle of the night!"

"yeah. i'm getting all, uh, nostalgic."  

"Right?? Except, in the bad way?  Like, thank god I'm not back then!   Nostalgic for right now?  No, ignore me.  That doesn't make any sense."

"i dunno."  Sans yawned and stretched out.  He needed to send a message to Grillby, but he didn't want to wake him up again.  "feels like we're all still back down there sometimes, anyway."  Time travel was a rip off, Sans decided.  All you had to do to stay in the past was have a lot of messed up stuff happen so you always felt like part of you was back there when it happened.  All that scientific research and there'd turned out to be a much lazier way to go back that didn't risk destroying reality.

"God!   You're in a bad mood."  She sat down next to him.  "But, yeah.  I wake up in the middle of the night and come down here, and when I open the door I feel like I'm going to step right into my old lab and all the stuff I did to make that...not right, really, but better--it's going to just be gone."

"that sucks."  He patted her arm.  

"Yeah, I know!"   She turned on the movie.  

There was an edge to the conversation.  There was always that chance that it could literally happen--they could wake up back then, and everything good they'd had since then would be gone.  That sucked.  

He was really tired.

Sans watched an anime character with carefully but unbelievably animated breasts swoop around in the movie intro.  "wow."  Well, this was distracting.  

Alphys started to explain the plot, since it was a movie based on an anime Sans hadn't seen.  Sans started to fall asleep.

He heard footsteps tromping down the stairs, and opened one eye socket to see if it was Undyne or one of the kids.  

"Hey!"   Undyne stage whispered.  "When did this loser get here?"

Alphys paused the show.  

"hey," Sans said.  "you can see i'm awake, pal."  

"Oh!  Sorry!  When'd you get here, loser?"  She laughed and came over to smack him affectionately on the shoulder, but he decided to sit on the other side of the couch.

"Uh, we decided to watch a movie," Alphys said.  "Kind of a weird time for it, but...um..."

"nah. i think you've gotta watch a show like this when no one else is awake."

"Time is a meaningless social construct anyway, am I right?  Eheheheh..."

"Well, shove over and let me watch, too!  I love this one!"  

Now that Undyne was there, she and Alphys started to discuss the intricacies of the plot.  Sans' skull fell back and he let their impassioned discussion of something he didn't care about act as white noise to nod off to.  

"So, what's his deal?"  Undyne asked.  Sans was still awake, but he guessed he looked like he was out.

"Ummm...like a bad dream, maybe," Alphys said.  

"still awake," Sans said, before the conversation got embarrassing. "maybe i just missed the sound of alphys' voice.  you think of that?"

"Ha, right!"  Undyne reached over Alphys and gripped his shoulder. "Just cop to it!  No one cares!  We're not going to think you're any more of a wimp because you had a nightmare.  I have them all the time, and I can kick anyone's butt!"

"It's true!  It's completely normal," Alphys said.  "The kids get them pretty bad."

"We woke up just a couple nights ago because Striker was wailing her friggin heads off.  I couldn't even get it out of her what she'd been dreaming about."

"man, you two are really giving me a revelation here.  people have bad dreams.  wow, thanks."  

"Hey, Sans?  Don't be a jerk!" Alphys said.

"yeah, sorry.  you're helping me out."  And neither of them had even mentioned that they probably had to get up early and haul some kids to school.

"And don't forget it!"  Undyne's hand was digging in so hard he was starting to worry about HP loss.  "Because we'll do it any time, no problem."  She was smiling.

Jeez, he really must look like he was messed up.  "thanks."

She sighed and let go of him.  He rotated his shoulder.  It still worked, some how.  "You know--this movie's great, but there's something that really distracts me when I need it!"  

"ok?"

"Robot tag!"  She jumped up and grabbed a loose robot arm off the floor.  It looked a little like an extra one of Mettaton's.  

"Maybe we should just watch the show?"  Alphys said.  

Undyne came after her with the robot arm.  

"W-wait! Let me get a hiding space, or a head start--or something!" Alphys scrambled off the couch.  

"you'd better get armed, alphs," Sans said.  

"You aren't getting out of this, either!" Undyne said.  "Arm YOURSELF!"

"k."  He got off the couch and picked up the closest robot leg.  

Sans spent half an hour leaning against the edge of the couch holding a robot leg while Alphys and Undyne chased each other around their basement.  It did give him something to look at when the women in Alphys' movie started to get weird.  

Undyne suddenly charged at him and he dodged out of the way to the other side of the couch.  Alphys popped right up from where she'd been hiding behind it and booped him in the back of the skull with a robot hand.  

Alphys laughed, delighted at herself.  "You're so predictable!"

"And, you're SO IT!"  Undyne added.  "Teaming up is the key to victory!"  She ran over and gave Alphys' robot hand a high five with her robot arm.  

That was a little annoying.  "k," Sans said.  

"N-nothing can defeat the p-power of...of...love!  And friendship!" Alphys exclaimed.  They were both so excited about tagging him.  

"k."   He decided to get Alphys back, since she was the one who actually got him.  He looked at her.

"Jeez...uh...maybe...tone down your creep eye?"  Alphys said.  "And, um---no tag backs!"

Sans was sure that wasn't true, since Alphys and Undyne had been chasing each other and mostly ignoring him until then, but ok.  He turned his glowy blue eye that was totally cool and not at all creepy onto Undyne.

"I'd like to see you TRY, punk!"

"ok."

When Grillby asked him how his late night hang-out with Alphys had gone, Sans shrugged and said "it was mostly just weird."  The game had ended for Sans when a stampede of children came down the stairs at six in the morning and joined in.  He'd given up his leg to some tyke way more excited about physical activity than he was, and gone home.  

He finished watching the movie at home.  He hated it, sure, but he still needed to know the ending.  Alphys gloated when he told her that, and said there was a sequel if he needed to stop by again.  

He had the best friends in the world.  

>>Next Part<<

[ladylaffnsun-blog]

I have been avoiding being around “too many” people anymore. It’s no secret that I work from home for a major company and I just got promoted to a much better position, I also have a raise with this promotion. My life is quiet, completely drama free, very little to no stress at all, yet I am sitting here waiting for the ball to drop on me. Why is this? Why can’t I accept that right now, my life is in a good, no it’s in a GREAT place? Why am I so nervous and afraid to just be happy and celebrate it? I don’t want the ball to drop on us again or should I say the terrifying bomb to drop on us again. WE lived through so many years of shit, that I almost expect shit to happen.

Today is mine and Ron’s 13th year wedding anniversary, 13 has always been a “bad” number according to my superstitious grandparents. They avoided that number at all costs, it was worse on Friday the 13th. For me, I am embracing it and hoping this year of our marriage will be even better for us. That we will be even closer than we already are, if that is even possible. WE do everything together, it’s just me and Ron at all or most times doing anything. We do not hang out with other couples as there are not other couples our age who do not hang out in bars or who do not have kids here in Tucson. We tried to find them, they don’t exist not here. I won’t lie, it would be nice to spend time with at least one other couple, who we can relate to, who has similar interests with us, who will not try to outdo us in life. WE already had that here and we both made a decision to end that relationship with both people, it was draining to us both. Anyway, today is our anniversary and as fate would have it, I am off as it’s my normal day off and he is working of course. Not to mention my fat bonus that I have been waiting for since July 7th still has not been paid out to me, so we are not able to do what we planned. WE were going to go to either the casino or Dave & Buster’s and be little kids having some fun. WE decided when the bonus comes, we are going to get sugar skull tattoos instead together, we are a tattooed and pierced couple.

I was looking back at a picture of myself, which I shared on Facebook I think it was yesterday and of course, it brought up many different emotions for me. 

In this picture, I see pure happiness, pure joy and the woman I used to be. It’s upsetting how much I have changed since this time (2009). I miss that woman I was and want her back. What happened to her? Well here is what happened—-THE BOMB hit!! A big, fat, piece of shit BOMB hit and exploded all over me, devastating who I was and I am still cleaning up the aftermath of it all. In all honesty, if hear one more person telling me to “get over it”, I am going to snap, go insanely crazy, scream my brains at them and quite possibly if they are in punching distance, punch the ever loving piss out of them. If anyone tells me to see a shrink, I am going to do the same, I do not believe in shrinks, they are more dangerous and toxic than going through it on our own with all their medications. For me, it’s a matter of embracing the happiness, the joy, the peace, drama free life I have now. It’s about accepting the fact that I can be happy and fuck anyone who thinks otherwise.

So what is wrong with me? I know this in my heart and my head, then the double guessing and overthinking starts. I start to think “OH shit! Who is going to tell me I am too positive, too happy, too much of anything, too confident, too sexual, too perverted, too fat.”

Want to know how I am?

Want to know what I like but I don’t always show you?

Here it is:

I am woman who thoroughly enjoys sex with her husband, I crave him in fact. There I said it!! If that makes me a pervert so be it! I am not our whoring around, I have sex with him and only him, we are not doing anything bad at all. I look at Adam & Eve website, Fredericks of Hollywood, I enjoy those websites. I enjoy Game of Thrones and True Blood and the sexual scenes do not bother me at all. There I said that too!! I am so tired of keeping it in!! Tired of hiding who I am. WE hold hands in public, we hug in public, we kiss in public, we are full on public display of affection people, don’t like it, don’t look!! I would be affectionate in public, then miserable like most people nowadays.

I am a witch, yes I am a witch. Although, I double guess and doubt my own self power a lot. I pushed that part of myself deep down inside, to appease my family members who insisted I must be a Christian like them. Stupid part, most of them don’t walk the walk, they sure as shit can talk it though or post it on Facebook and other social media grounds. Yes!! I called them out!! When you are full on Christian, you truly walk that walk and not just talk that shit, then maybe, NAH, who am I kidding, I won’t hear you anymore. I want to bring this wildly, wicked, yet sweet witch back in me and let her fly loose and free. I want my power back! I want it back so boldly and strong, that I can honestly taste that passion everyday and it frustrates me. I know it’s only me restraining myself. Why? What am I so afraid of? I have tasted my own power in New Jersey, it was strong there, I didn’t give a flying monkey ass what anyone said or did to try to stop me. I was full blown insanely powerful. I want it back!!

I am the one person who gets what she wants in life. I don’t usually give up easily, I am extremely persistent and I never ask for help in getting what I want. I just get up and do it myself. I cannot depend on anyone else to do a thing for me. I must get out and do it myself. This I think frustrates Ron and a few others. I don’t tell people what I am going through mentally or emotionally or physically for that matter. I keep it anymore. I keep silent and do what I need to do for me. I learned throughout the years that you cannot count on anyone to be there for you, if you do, you only get backstabbed in the end. Yes, this is how I feel. My trust is pretty much depleted in so many people. I can count on one hand the ones I truly count as friends. Even with them, I wonder if they really do care or do they talk shit about me behind my back too. I have been burned too many times to count. At the same time, it would be nice to just depend on at least one person to pick me up, to ask if I am okay, to be there for me. I am exhausted from being there for everyone else, from giving my all to others and getting shit in return. Sometimes all I do crave that “Hey Rae, how are you today?” then the listening ear to just hear me talk, laugh, cry, scream or whatever, no judgments, no “words of wisdom”, no advice to be given. Just hear me, hear my heart and what is on my mind. I am the woman, who is always there for her loved ones, friends, family, fur babies and so on. I give of myself fully, whole heartedly and I don’t ask for anything back really. I give freely and I don’t throw it in your face if I helped you. I had that happen to me too many times since I was born, nothing ever came freely in my family, there were always conditions and strings attached. It’s how I became so independent. This is the worst part of being so independent, no one realizes that even though some of us are extremely independent, that there are times in our lives we want to depend on someone else for a change. It takes pressure off of us, the stress and the anxiety.

I am not a skinny minnie kind of woman. I am plump, I am now a size 15 at 5′ tall, I am very self conscious over this as it is, so I do not need anyone telling me how “fat” I am now. I have tried Atkins and so many countless diet pills, nothing works for long. I found that one slip up, I end up beating myself up over it, getting depressed, bawling my eyes out and it’s a big fat hot mess. So I gave up “dieting”. I heard this statement made by Taryn Brumfitt, where she said “DIET…what is the first three letters of that word…DIE. Yeah I don’t want to do anything with that word in it.” It made me giggle and really think it over, she is so right. Diet, we die to foods that others tell us not to eat and meanwhile we are dying inside when we don’t eat certain foods. I used to do Atkins and I did away with all carbs, yes I lost a lot of weight and at the same time I was miserable counting carbs, eating this and not that.

I was never truly happy on Atkins or trying to lose weight at all. When I was at my heaviest, which I now weigh again, I felt sexy, beautiful and confident. When I lost all the weight, I worried constantly if I was going to keep it off. I had constipation issues, my urine was bad, I developed kidney stones, I almost died from septic shock. I gave up diets and all that craziness of trying to lose weight. I used to do that blasted treadmill daily at our free gym, going no-where, other than insane trying to lose the weight. I am not a skinny minnie at all, I am a curvy petite short woman.

I am and always will be a successful woman in whatever I do. I went back to work after my near death experience in October, in March and I have already had a raise and now I am promoted to a higher department with another raise coming. I bust my ass and work hard at what I do. I can be confident in that and yes I am a bit conceited in that area of my life. When I hear someone else try to “one up” me, as I have had in the recent past, I have to remind myself they are only talking shit, look at the person and see where they are now and take it from it comes from. If you read this and think “Oh, she is talking about me.” chances are you are right!! I have always excelled at school and work. I always strive to be the best at everything I do. It’s who I am and I can say I am proud of that part of me.

I am a self proclaimed writer, a blogger of sorts. I don’t write about fashion trends, makeup trends, witchcraft with spells or potions or political stuff  as that is not me. I just write whatever the fuck I want to write about. I feel as though I am not meant to fit into any one kind of box or stereotype. Too many people want to fit in, I want to stand out and have a real voice, not appease the masses at all. I want to be able to passionate and free with my writings and hold nothing back. If it burns your eyes out, don’t read it. If you like what I say, feel free to comment, feel free to share.

I have run out of things to say at this point.

I just want to know how I can write this out and yet when it comes down to it, I double guess and doubt what I wrote out. I know these things are true.

    **NSFW** What The **Bleep** Is Wrong With Me? **NSFW** I have been avoiding being around "too many" people anymore. It's no secret that I work from home for a major company and I just got promoted to a much better position, I also have a raise with this promotion.