#[i will not wASTE MAH TIME

[cordeliawhohung]

soap x f!reader | drabble

cw: smut, dub-con voyeurism, religious talk and standards, virginity taking/hymen breaking, breeding kink, just a lot of fucking filth, unrealistic sex, this was just an idea i need to get out of my brain so i can work on something else lmao

You always knew Johnny was a traditional and devout Catholic, but you didn't think he'd consummate your marriage with an audience; let alone in front of the members of his task force.

"It's okay," he coos softly. Soft sheets sprawl underneath your bare body as your wide eyes catch sight of the three men entering the hotel suite. Shaky hands grab Johnny's arms as you attempt to bury yourself in his exposed skin to save yourself any sort of embarrassment. You recognize them instantly as attendants of your wedding — they're even still wearing their suits — but that doesn't ease your anxiety any further. "They're just 'ere tae watch. Ah work with them. Trust them with mah life. Won't speak a word."

There are only so many chairs in the room for them to take. John, who you remember being introduced to earlier that night as Johnny's captain, drags one of the office chairs to the foot of the bed. He sits with a polite smile, as if you're meeting for Sunday brunch. Kyle does the same, both of them sitting, legs spread far, knees nearly knocking together. The lieutenant, Simon, doesn't make himself nearly as comfortable. He stands behind them, arms crossed over a broad chest as his eyes wander your body, taking in the sight of your soft skin and neatly done bridal makeup. Your skin perks, prompting you to cover yourself with your arms as a chill racks your body.

"To watch?" you repeat, teeth sinking into your lower lip. "I don't... I don't know, Johnny."

"We have tae," he presses, fingers ghosting over your cheek and turning your attention to him. The mazarine hue of his eyes bores into you as he leans up, hand wandering over your torso until he rests on your stomach. "Everyone has tae know this bairn A'm gonna give ye is mine."

"But, I've never-" you begin to protest.

"I know ye haven't," he shushes. "This is how it's always been done. Tradition, aye? Please, mah love."

You love Johnny. You wouldn't have married him if you didn't. But this strong ambivalence is torturous. It tingles up your spine in line with the watchful eyes at the foot of your bed. But you love Johnny, and if this is what he wants, then you'll give it to him.

"Okay," you eventually concede.

He grins. "Ah love ye."

When his lips meet yours, you feel the warm beads of his rosary rest on your chest. He had you pray with him before this. Kneeling next to the bed, elbows resting on the mattress, thanking the Lord for your union and the child you'll eventually bring to this world. Despite tradition, consummating your marriage this way feels blasphemous, put on display for his teammates to see like a whore rather than a wife.

Johnny's hand begins to wander between your legs, rubbing over your clit in a way that leaves your hips bucking into his touch. You rarely touch yourself like this, too afraid to revel in sin, but his touch is searing. Unfamiliar and burning. He chuckles, warm and low, as his fingers begin to prod further, relentless ardor exuding from his body. When he presses into your cunt and meets resistance, he pauses, eyebrows furrowing as he leans back.

"Spread yer legs for me, lovely," he prompts.

Body stuck on auto pilot, you listen before your brain has time to process his request. Knees bent, your thighs separate as the heels of your feet dig into the soft mattress, and Johnny wastes no time spreading the lips of your pussy for the boys to see.

"Christ," John groans. "She's still intact."

You make the mistake of looking past Johnny, and you see the way the boys paw at themselves. Chubbed cocks straining against the pristine fabric of their dress pants, palms rubbing at themselves for any fraction of relief.

"Look at ye, so lovely," Johnny sighs. He settles between your legs, body blocking the view of your bare, unfucked cunt. He tugs at his aching cock, and this is the first time you've allowed yourself to push past your bashfulness and look at it. Delicate reddened skin, a thick base and heavy veins — he's going to tear you apart. "Gonna let me have ye? Tell me yer mine."

You swallow the discomfiture stuck in your throat. "I'm yours, Johnny."

There's no more time to waste — he presses into you, leaky tip butting against the thin membrane of your hymen. Pressure builds as he pushes, and your eyes screw tight at the sting as thin skin stretches and accommodates his length.

"Go on, love," Kyle prompts. "Don't hold back now."

You whimper, but you don't know if it's from the teasing or from Johnny finally bottoming out. Wide eyes stare down between your legs where the two of you are joined, and you see the slight tinge of blood that covers the base of his cock. You groan as your head hits the pillow, never having felt so full in your entire life.

"Fuckin' hell. Hardly gave 'er any time to adjust, you dog," Simon teases through a grunt.

Johnny's hips slowly move back, leaving you empty for only a split moment before he pushes forward again, hips hitting yours with a lewd slap. You gasp, air being sucked free from your lungs as he grinds deep inside of you, in a place where no one else has been.

"Cannae help maself," he breathes, face burrowing into the side of your neck. Instinctively, your arms wrap around his neck, holding him close as you drown your moans into his skin. "Have'ta give mah wife the best. Cannae settle for any less. Need'ta give her a sweet bairn, just like Ah promised."

Your mind goes blank as more moaning and grunts join in harmony with yours and Johnny's. Belts become undone with quiet clinks followed quickly by sticky skin on skin contact as the boys rut into their own palms. There's no time to feel bashful about their transgressions in your presence. Pure hedonia captures your mind, numbing anything else as Johnny's thumb presses against your clit. You tighten around him, and he growls against your throat.

Something overwhelms him. Makes him insatiable as his cock pistons into you at a relentless pace. When you finally get your eyes to open through it all, a halo of light illuminates behind him as if he were an angel. Soft, defused, and gentle as the rosary around his neck swings with his movements. You feel something build inside of you, a needy pressure that expands in the heat of your stomach, where it grows, and grows, and grows until-

"J-Johnny, f... fuck!"

It's a sin to enjoy sex. You've known as much since you were young. But this is the closest to heaven you've ever felt. Not even praising God in the pews of your grandiose church has ever brought you this much bliss. The curse falls from your lips as that pressure snaps, body convulsing, pussy clenching around Johnny as if to draw him in, beckoning, demanding he give what he's promised.

And he does. Stuttering hips seize as his cock pulses inside of you, and you swear you feel every single throb as his body pins yours to the bed, warm sweat staining the sheets. He sows his seed, and you feel tears prick the corner of your eyes at the utter ardor you harbor for him in your heart.

When Johnny pulls out, he keeps your legs spread wide to show the boys, each of whom have made messes of themselves. Wasted cum coats their fingers where they quickly clean themselves up on handkerchiefs, eyes still glued to your leaking cunt. Simon mutters something about you dripping, that he shouldn't let his work go to waste, and Johnny agrees by gathering his spend on his fingers and shoving it back inside of you. They chuckle at the way you jolt.

Just as promised, the boys leave once everything is clean, each of them muttering congratulations as the hotel room door shuts behind them. But he can't stop himself there. He lies with you as you both catch your breaths, but it's only minutes before he's shoving his cock into you once more. You whimper, tell him that you shouldn't have sex more than necessary, that it's a terrible sin you'll both have to repent for, but he coos and tells you not to worry. He just wants to make sure his seed takes. That he gives you what he swore he would.

"Besides," he whispers, lips brushing against your ear just as his cock hits your cervix, "don't have'tae hold back anymore with the boys gone. Can have mah lovely wife all to maself now."

[pricegouge]

Get Her a Dog (She'll be Happier For It)

Part Four | master list | taglist | MDNI

Soap x reader, Price x reader, eventual PriceSoap x reader

series cw: cheating. dubcon. angst. cuckholding. pet play.

chapter cw: angst, pining for another man's wife

reader is fem and fat

He's low on the boy's list of priorities, it seems, his first day back from medical leave leading him far and wide across base before settling into John's visitor seat so late in the day. John didn't mind that, was honestly surprised to see him there at all considering the shallow relationship the two of them shared. What he did mind was the chosen topic of conversation.

It's late when Soap comes, the sun low enough to shine through the slots of John's blinds. That peaceful golden hour when the dust motes dance distractingly. He never gets much work done on days like this, when the sun warms his back, coaxing him outside to enjoy a sunlit fall day - a right novelty in England. It's the only reason he'd accepted the visit, Soap's knock at the door finding John elbow deep in paperwork he wouldn't have the attention span for until the sun had at least dipped below the armory building, his tablet sitting idle just wasting battery. He's low on the boy's list of priorities, it seems, his first day back from medical leave leading him far and wide across base before settling into John's visitor seat so late in the day. John didn't mind that, was honestly surprised to see him there at all considering the shallow relationship the two of them shared. What he did mind was the chosen topic of conversation.

"She said she wants what?"

"Mah bairn, cap. A baby, ye ken?"

If not for the years of training lining John's belt, he worries what he'd do to the unnervingly bright eyes Soap has trained on him in that moment. He wants to blacken them, maybe pluck them out of his pretty, dense head. He wants to see them shiny and wet with tears, red rimmed and bloodshot - doesn't know what to do with the urge, and doesn't even fully understand where it stems from either. Instead he draws a careful breath, takes a moment to be sure his voice is steady by carefully straightening and locking the screen in front of him. Across the desk, Soap looks ready to vibrate out of his seat, nerves shot beyond recognition despite the weeks of recuperation he's just getting back from. John decidedly does not think too hard about how the bird's been keeping her man tired out, the edges of his jealousy already honed sharp.

"I ken, Soap. What's this to do with me?"

John expects embarrassment, perhaps confusion. Something to show either Soap is misguided, or perhaps that there's a connecting piece John himself is missing. But the boy's eager in his response, leaning across his captain's desk with no concept of decorum. "Ye gotta talk some sense into her, cap," he pleads. "She'll listen tae ye - always has. Ye gotta tell her why it's a terrible idea, that -."

"A terrible idea?" If his voice sounds calm, it's a testament to the damage a lifetime's worth of scotch and cigars have done to his vocal chords, the constant hoarseness allowing his anger to go unnoticed here. 

"Aye, we're no' ready for a bairn, cap - hardly more than kids ourselves," he whines, and not for the first time, John thinks maybe he's right. Except -

"You are an officer. In the S.A.S." 

Soap has the decency to blanch, at least. "And tha's another reason! Ah'm ne'er home, cap! The last thing she needs is tae be raising a bairn herself."

John shakes his head, breath puffing out of him like steam. He has an urge to break his stylus in half so instead places it on the desk with unnecessary force. "Son, were you a candy striper when you said those vows?"

"Sir -?"

"Candy striper or a soldier, Soap, what were you?"

John knows his man well enough to spot the deep flush working its way up from under Soap's collar, recognizes the low set of his heavy brow. The way he himself tenses to meet it would be admirable, if not directed at his own subordinate. "A soldier, sir."

"And when you promised that woman kids, were you selling shoes?"

"Ye have a point, ah assume?"

John glowers, unable to even muster the patronizing look he usually adopts for conversations like this. "My point, is I'm not sure what you expected to happen. You gave that woman your name. You made plans for children. So why's it a problem now?" Across the years, an echo of a similar argument rings in his ears, the pleas once used against himself now slotting into place, loaded - fully automatic. He couldn't say why he was helping the man across from him, though. Loyalty, maybe. More likely, his desperate need for closure lies somehow even stronger than his growing desire to rip the other man's relationship apart.

Soap splutters. "It's no' a problem, it's jes' tha' -." He stops, squints, seems to roll his tongue in contemplation. "Well, ye kno' how it is, cap. Ne'er gonnae be the righ' time in this job."

By some miracle, John doesn't take the bait. He takes a deep breath instead, thinks about the favor he'll be able to call in after he tells Kate how level-headed he's being today. "MacTavish," he says patronizingly, revels in the thrumming of a particularly aggressive vein in the boy's bare temple. "I do know how it is, so you can take it from me when I say it will never be the right time. But you can also take it from me that it won't matter to your bird. She is lonely and wants a babe, and you're going to give her one because that is what you promised you would do."

"Will nae," the scott seethes, leaning close across the desk again. "A bairn won't fix anything, cap. She jes' wants -."

There are times when John's ability to command a room - to command unruly gits like the sergeant across from him - takes even him by surprise. It does so now, when his voice curls deep and dark and low and damn near knocks Soap back on his ass. "And something does need fixing, does it?" Johnny just stares at his captain, deflated and lost. John sighs again, drums his thumb on the desk agitatedly, the wood worn from years of use, the same spot weathered by his many frustrations. The fight might have left the sergeant, but John's still desperately searching for something to lay into, his bruised ego telling him Soap's the source of all his troubles and right there, causing yet more. Still, he has to trust the man with his life, and telling Soap if he doesn't fuck a babe into his wife soon John himself will probably isn't conducive to that end so he bites his tongue - literally and figuratively - and drags his seat closer to the desk, works his pent up energy off by planting his boots too aggressively when he spreads his legs. All tells, all things he knows the boy is trained to watch for. His patience has bounds, though, and he couldn't care less if Soap clocked him for it. "If you want my advice, your bird's a soft one. She needs something to care for, so if you won't give her a babe, at least get her a dog."

Soap blinks, leans out of John's space - a subtle bow out he does nothing to make casual. John eats it like paid dues. "Soft," he repeats. John does not close his eyes in frustration, afraid of the supple curves burned into the back of his eyelids which await him there every night, every blink. "A dog?"

"You're familiar, I assume?"

The vein in Soap's temple throbs back to life, but the boy does a decent job of schooling his expression this time. "Aye, ah'm familiar." A beat passes, Soap flicks at John's stylus - likely too deep in thought to worry about the insult of it. John debates kicking his chair over anyway. "Can't have a dog at our place."

"Then buy her a proper house!" John thunders, too frustrated to find Soap's blindsided expression funny.

He regrets it when he gets the home warming invitation in the mail a month later.

[definitelynotafurinasimp]

Request honkai star :

Kafka, Natasha and himeko with a malewife reader (Oh mah Gah 🤭🫠)

Them with a reader that’s spouse material

characters: Kafka / Natasha / Himeko x gn!reader (separate)

warnings: none, just fluff

a/n: Since I wanted to make this more suitable for everyone I decided to slightly alter it to something more akin to a post I wrote for Ei, Yae and Kujou Sara with a similar premise. I hope you don’t mind

Hopefully this still matches what you envisioned, I tried my best, although "malewife" didn't give me *that* much to work with.

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Kafka

Telling Kafka what she was allowed to do and what she wasn’t was an easy way to lose her attention. Even Elio was careful enough with their words when telling her the “script”, knowing that giving her information about the future was of no use when she wasn’t listening. 

And while this certain aspect of her personality didn’t just magically vanish when receiving an earful from you about her carelessness, it at the very least felt somewhat more tolerable.

It felt fair enough to say that seeing Kafka return with one or two new bruises added to the increasingly growing list of injuries she endured over the years, didn’t exactly fill you with euphoria. Quite the opposite. As you hurried over to her side to inspect the wounds from up close however, you were greeted with the sound of one of her chuckles, causing you to send a quick glare in her direction.

“Anything you have to say for yourself, Miss Kafka?”, you questioned her, your voice not sharing the same contentment as her face did.

“It’s nothing serious. I just got a little too into it”, she responded before making her way over to the nearest chair and exposing her wounded shoulder, the things that were about to follow having become something of a routine by now.

While a part of you wanted to chide her far more for how willingly she threw herself at enemies, you knew well enough by this point that it wasn’t going to make any difference, quickly grabbing whatever medical supplies you could get your hands on before making your way over to her and beginning to treat her injuries.

“That’s it? I expected more to come from you”, she asked with a small smirk on her face, causing you to let out a small sigh.

“We both know that lambasting you is nothing but a waste of breath”, you explained while applying a bit of alcohol on a piece of cloth before putting it on her wound, not even receiving the slightest flinch from her.

“Can you at least promise me that you’ll try to be more careful?”

“I’ll try.” Seeing Kafka’s lips curl into a smile made it difficult to stay angry or frustrated with her and before you knew it, yours had done the same. 

You gave her 2 weeks tops until she’d get wounded again.

Natasha

There weren’t many things Natasha loved more than the children of the underground, and while the clinic was always open for them to visit and play around in whenever their parents had to work in the mines, there were times even she felt overwhelmed by them, especially considering how much changed in such a short time.

You may not have been as good as Natasha when it came to dealing with children, often not exactly knowing how to handle their boundless energy, but in times like these, when she not only had to handle the rest of the wounded from the recent clashes in the mines, but also had to coordinate everything to reintegrate the underground with the world above the surface, the least you could do is keep the children entertained enough not to bombard her with *too* many questions.

When Natasha came back from her “little” wildfire meeting, she half expected to get swarmed by Hook and her moles almost instantly, only for the clinic to be suspiciously quiet. For a moment, she started to prepare herself for the little girl jumping out from somewhere in an attempt to scare her, the words she was about to say ready to leave her mouth the moment she opened it… but still. Nothing.

It was only then, that she heard Hook’s voice ring out from outside, prompting her to quickly go and investigate.

“What happened then?!”, Julian asked loud enough for any bystanders to clearly hear him, staring with wonder in his eyes as you tried your hardest to remember how the story continued, only for Hook to chime in.

“Yeah, what happened then? Did they manage to defeat him?”, she practically demanded an answer, the three childrens fixed gazes being enough for you to almost buckle underneath them.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your little story time, but you’ll have to be patient to find out how it continues. I’ll need s/o to help me with a few patients, but I’m sure they’ll be happy to tell you later”, Natasha’s voice rang out just in time to save you from Hook’s stare to change into a glare. But instead of causing you to let out a sigh of relief, your head immediately shot up at her mentioning of patients, having been sure that you took care of them already..

But before you could say anything, she signalled you to come along, causing you to walk past the children with an apologetic smile, hearing them complain about Natasha ruining the show, but not doing anything else.

“Didn’t we already take care of-”, you opened your mouth to ask the moment the door closed behind the two of you, only to get cut short almost as quickly as you quickly got pulled into a hug.

“Thanks for entertaining Hook and her friends. I know you aren’t the best with children, so I appreciate it. I know I’m busy right now, but once all of this is done I’ll make sure to repay you for all of your work”, she whispered just loud enough for you to hear her, causing your face to light up somewhat as you began fidgeting with your fingers.

“It’s nothing. I’m sure anyone would have done that”, you tried to play it down, never having been too good with praise, before quickly changing the subject.

“So anyway. There are no new patients, right?”, you asked before looking around, only for Natasha to let out a small chuckle.

Himeko

Himeko’s coffee was an acquired taste. While some would call it too bitter and “difficult to swallow”, real coffee lovers knew to appreciate its taste. Unfortunately for you however, you didn’t count yourself among those connoisseurs, normally having to add a truck's worth of ingredients to make it possible for you to even think about downing one. The thought of drinking one without any milk like you had heard Himeko suggest to others countless of times filling you with internal dread, even if you were excellent at hiding it.

It wasn’t every day that you decided to bake something for the rest of the crew, the clean-up the kitchen required to keep Pom-Pom from having a mental breakdown not exactly being something you enjoyed. But since today was a special occasion, being Dan Heng, March and your newest member returning from their first mission, you decided to bite the bullet for once.

The moment you entered the Parlor with the cake in one hand and plates and forks in the other, you became a person of interest. March grabbing the first few plates from you before you even had the chance to register her, all too eager to get the first piece of the cake.

“Seeing as today is a day of celebration, you may eat in here. But if you get anything dirty you’ll wish you weren't born”, Pom-Pom warned you all, although their glaring at March made it somewhat obvious that they had someone specific in mind, causing a nervous giggle from her.

“I’ll go make myself some hot chocolate, do you also want some?”, she offered after jumping back up from her seat, making her way to the door only to stop shortly afterwards.

“Isn’t hot chocolate for children?”, the trailblazer asked, immediately causing an argument to break out between the two of them, one that Himeko was all too happy to just watch before turning her face towards you.

“Do you want something to drink? I can make you a cup of coffee.” If March hadn’t been too busy arguing, she might have tried to help you out of your situation, but left on your own, you nodded before being able to think it over, not wanting to disappoint her, considering how proud she always seemed about her coffee.

It didn’t take long before Himeko returned with the promised drink, placing a cup on the table in front of you before pouring some of it in, quickly repeating the process with her own cup before sitting down opposite of you.

Trying your hardest to ignore how dark the coffee was while still keeping up with your conversation, you eventually decided to take a sip. The word “bitter” alone came nowhere near to describe its taste, and while your composure managed to hang on by a thread, the fight to get it to go down your throat was harder than any monster that ever challenged you.

“Bitter?” Himeko asked with a smile, not needing your answer in any way to decipher what you had to say, but finding your reaction to be a nice source of amusement.

“That’s how-”, you began to respond, only to stop yourself when the bitter taste still didn’t leave your mouth, a shiver running down your spine, “ -coffee’s supposed to be after all.”

“It’s great to hear that you share the sentiment. Don’t worry, you’ll get used to the aftertaste”, she stated with another smile, although you weren’t too sure if it was a genuine one or used in order to hide just how amusing she found the whole scene.

Before long, you saw Himeko refill the cup you had so struggled to empty, all the while enthusiastically telling you about different brewing methods, causing you to wonder if accepting her offer was the right decision.

Whether you really liked her coffee or just drank it to please her, by the time she was done with you, you’d be a black coffee lover like her… or at least accustomed enough to the bitterness to pretend to.

[moonymelly]

Uhm…hello, friends!!

Uh, yeah…I’m still sick. Which sucks. BUT!! This morning, I was like:

“Ok, dude, you GOTTA make something Biggerler related. ITS BEEN WEEKS AND YOUR BOY AND YOUR FANS NEED YOU!!”

So….I had a lil idea. Now I’m no writer, but I just HAD to make this. I wanted to make something that would just be super cool and also give a bit more personality to mah boi. coughcoughbeforetheloraxcrashedtheparty. SO!!

Without further ado…here’s a lil something I wrote….

- The Calm Before the Storm -

……

“….mnnmhmm….”

His tired eyes slowly fluttered open, his blurry vision immediately met with the roof of his canopy bed, the intricate gold details against the deep green background glittering from the light that came through the room.

What time is it?

Looking over at his clock with squinted eyes, it read somewhere around 8:30. As usual.

Well…there wasn’t a moment to waste. Today was the day of the ball, after all. Everything needed to be perfect.

Rubbing his eyes and running his fingers through his soft black hair, he parted the curtains of his bed, stepping up and away from it. He grabbed his cup of chamomile tea from the night before and sipped it as he made his way to his balcony.

Tsk. Cold tea.

He pulled back the tall green, velvety curtains for the every-morning-outside-viewing-time. His face was a twisted expression of disgust and irritation. Why he did this to himself, even he would never know.

But alas, he did it anyways. Gazed out from his balcony at the crude place that was “the valley.” The sky, though morning, was swirled with those familiar dark purple, smoggy clouds, the hills inhabiting almost the same color. And the grass was…well…there…

….not completely alive, though.

He stared. Just stared with a blank face at all of it. Not too far away was Thneedville, and a smidgen of a small smile crossed his otherwise straight face. If there was one thing he was proud of, it was Thneedville.

His town. What he did for everyone.

What everyone should be grateful for.

He stood there, cold tea in hand, lost in thought, the cold breeze of the outside atmosphere brushing his hair softly into his eyes, the bitter smell of smog tickling his nose, but it didn’t matter.

He just…stayed there.

……….

….BANG!!

The Onceler nearly leapt out of his feet from the loud noise that attacked his ears, causing him to yelp very unprofessionally.

He swirled around, his face a furious scowl as his cold tea was splashed across his jade green silk pajamas. Who dared enter his room at an hour like this, and how so loudly?!

Who dared see him without his suit, so casually, with his unbrushed hair and now wet pajamas?!

WHO DARED TO—?!

“…A-Agh!! I’m so sorry sir!! Here, I’ll leave right away—!!”

The Onceler’s scowl slowly softened with realization, his posture straightening with a small sigh. He held up his hand, shaking his head. “No, no, Viktor. You don’t have to leave.”

Of course it was Viktor. There stood the poor man, a tray of food in his shaky hands, his face so deeply apologetic that The Onceler couldn’t help but have a soft spot for him.

He knew, after all, how it felt to be in a position such as Viktor’s. Always trying oh so desperately to have the…the approval of someone.

Viktor adjusted his rectangular glasses with a curious look on his face, his other hand clutching onto the food tray for dear life.

“Uhm…you’re sure, sir? I-I can really just leave, if you need me to—“

“No, no, it’s fine. Just…you can leave the tray on my table, over there.”

The Onceler pointed tiredly over at his small table nearby his fireplace, surrounded by the red sofas where he liked to sit sometimes with his smoking jacket, cigar in hand.

Viktor did a double take when he saw that The Onceler had accidentally splashed himself on his pajamas and winced. His boss really liked those pajamas. He was sure that if Viktor had been anyone else, he wouldn’t have been let off the hook so easily.

He trotted over to The Onceler’s fireplace and saw an unfinished glass of red wine set on the table as well. Pointing to it, he called out to his boss, who was once again standing regally as he looked out to the valley.

“Sir, would you like me to take this away for you?”

The Onceler turned around again to see what Viktor was referring to, and he didn’t answer right away, just looking at the glass as he contemplated yes or no.

“…Mmmm. I suppose.”

With that, he turned away again.

Viktor gave his boss a soft, knowing look. After being under his wing for five years, he knew what to expect. Even though he was his secretary, he was really mostly his personal assistant, the man The Onceler knew he could trust.

And Viktor never took that for granted.

As Viktor took the glass from the table and set the food tray down, The Onceler started trotting away from the balcony, unexpectedly. Viktor rose a brow, standing up straight as he watched his boss walk to his closet.

Well…more like a grand closet, for crying out loud. It was like a whole other room!!

“Sir!” Viktor half-shouted, practically speed walking over to where his boss now stood. “Can I help you with anything else?”

The Onceler gave Viktor a brief look, then shook his head. “No, but thank you. I just figured since I already dirtied my pajamas I might as well get into my suit.”

Viktor winced again, feeling bad about the pajamas. The Onceler scanned through his array of suits, other business-casual clothes, and smoking jackets. It was easy for a lot of people to forget that he was only twenty-five years old, especially when he acted so much older and sophisticated than that.

…Viktor sometimes wondered if The Onceler…always acted this way. Even in private. Even before all of this.

His lingering thoughts were interrupted by The Onceler staring at him with a tired look, one of his suits in hand. The suit he’d been wearing more often lately, the dark green one with the little intricate details on the lapels.

Viktor started to get nervous again. Why was The Onceler looking at him like that?! Did he need anything?! If he needed something he should know that all he needed to do was just say the words and—!!

“Viktor. I need to change, please.”

Viktor’s running thoughts were interrupted like a popping bubble when he realized….he was still in the closet with his boss. Aaaand…he needed to not be in there.

“…My apologies, sir!!” With that, he rushed out of the closet, fidgeting with his thumbs. As his boss changed, he ran over how the day needed to be, and that was perfect. He knew how much time and thought The Onceler was putting into this ball, and he knew how much it meant to him that everyone who came would be entertained and satisfied.

With a click of the closets door, The Onceler stepped out, his suit already fastened on neatly and his hair already somehow perfectly brushed. How The Onceler’s hair was always so perfect…Viktor and many people longed to know.

The Onceler walking with Viktor by his side, he stooped down to pick up his top hat and glasses from a nearby stand. As he placed them on, his confident and ready demeanor could make even the most frivolous of accessories appear regal.

The two exited his bedroom and made their way into the long hallways of the top floor of the factory, the tall walls lavished with paintings and gold stripes on the dark green walls that looked the same as the ones on The Onceler’s most iconic suit. The two walked through the dim lit red lamps and to the golden, intricate elevator.

Viktor pushed the button for the ballroom floor, and he instantly started chattering, reading off his papers as The Onceler listened intently.

“We have a lot to do, Sir, as you already know. A lot of us already have the decorations up and ready, but the kitchen needs to prep the food, refreshments, and desserts. The main thing, of course, is that we need your approval to make sure everything is in check.”

As Viktor looked up at his tall boss to read his expression, he could see a raised brow and a small smile, which wasn’t what he was expecting.

“Viktor,” The Onceler started, “That doesn’t sound like too much. In fact, it sounds like you all have done a great job preparing for this.”

Viktor was surprised, and even touched. “Well…thank you, Sir. …But we still should have you look over everything!!”

The Onceler looked straight ahead again, shaking his head lightly and chuckling. “Alright, Viktor.”

- At The Ballroom Floor -

Employees were working away like busy bees, draping more decorations up on the overly-tall walls. (Some would complain too tall, but what did it matter?) The people working at this factory knew they were lucky they had such an important job, being able to work for THE Onceler himself.

So, when THE Onceler himself was walked in, everyone just worked themselves even harder and quicker.

The Onceler scanned the room with a straight face, his eyes barely visible beneath those shades he wore. Every now and then an employee would walk by and greet him, he’d give them a light smile. But then he’d just revert back to that look, that look he made when he didn’t want people to know what he was thinking.

He watched as Viktor went off to be with the other employees, chattering to them as he hurriedly checked off the dozens of boxes on his clipboard. But The Onceler’s thoughts were interrupted by a familiar, thickly southern voice.

“Oncie!!~”

His eyes widening and back straightening even more than before, he turned around to see his mother stepping out from the elevator behind him, a big grin on her glossed lips. She wore one of her dozens of outfits, this one a sparkly blue skirt that matched both her son’s shades and her own glasses. Her top was a white collared shirt with a navy bow, her bow in her hair matching perfectly.

She clacked her high heels over to her son, but even then still needed to tippy-toe to drag his face down to hers and pepper his cheek with kisses. “Good morning, Oncie~!!” She made those ‘mwah-mwah-mwah’ noises as she kissed him and The Onceler could feel his cheeks instantly rise up with heat as he was seen by dozens of his employees, all looking at him either with surprise or little smiles on their faces, giggling.

The Onceler tugged a bit away from her and she finally let go, grinning all the while. “I see you’ve already made yourself busy, bein’ down here, hm?” She asked, looking around at everyone setting up.

The Onceler wiped away her lipgloss from his cheek and nodded with a forced smile, still embarrassed and slightly irritated from being seen so unprofessionally. Yes, while he was a fun guy in public and on the news, it was because he allowed that, it was an endearing fun for all adoring people to fawn over.

Not just…getting kiss attacked by his mother…

Straightening his suit, he nodded. “That’s right, ma. Tonight is going to be the night. Why, the event of the summer, I would say!”

His mother smiled and gave his cheek a pinch. “That’s my boy.” The two were interrupted by a female worker politely holding up a tray of confections. It appeared to be chocolate truffles of some kind, swirled with a deep purple color.

“Would you two like to try, Mr. Onceler?”

The Onceler gave her a nod and he and his mother each popped one in their mouths. It was absolutely decadent, the taste of dark chocolate coating his tongue along with a flavor he hadn’t had in such a long time.

…Truffula Fruit.

His mind drifting to thoughts he didn’t want to think, he cleared his throat, and gave her the nod of approval. “It’s delicious, please place them on the table over the—“

He was cut off by his mother chuckling, giving the other woman a crude pat on the back. “Oh, dearie!! You think this is gonna cut it?! Where’s the glamour?? This is the event of the summer, y’know?”

The woman looked absolutely mortified that she would displease anyone of The Onceler’s family. Isabella leaned into her ear with a sly smile and whispered. “You gotta add gold to it, hun. Go on. Sprinkle some gold on it.” Isabella leaned back and made a ‘shoo-shoo!’ motion with her gloved hand, grinning coyly.

The woman nodded her head rapidly, shakily keeping the chocolates in her tray from clattering to the ground. “Y-Yes, Ms. Isabella!! Right away!!” With that, she scurried back to the kitchen, the other employees quietly looking at her with wide eyes or pity.

The Onceler watched her walk away with that same unreadable look on his face. Did he feel sorry for her? Did he not care? No one would be able to tell. Isabella smiled up on him, squeezing his cheek again.

“Ya can’t let people get away with things, hun!! Can’t let people make us look bad, no?”

The Onceler looked down at his mother and quietly shook his head. “No.”

His mother was right, after all. This ball was meant to be a display of how perfect The Onceler and his family was, to show certain people that they were wrong. That nothing that The Onceler was doing was wrong in any way.

He was helping everyone, after all!! Giving people jobs, housing them, making them Thneeds, heck, a reason to be so darn happy!! Right?

But as he looks out to the valley every morning, is he really making…everyone? Happy?

………..

It didn’t matter. Because he was happy. And if he was happy, then everyone should be.

………..

….He did like the chocolate, though. The way it had been.

[natsukishinomiyaswife]

HEYYY CONGRATS ON OPENING THE CAFE CATHIEEE<333

You know me so I gotta ask for donut bites and lemonade!!<33 ty!!

Hello Mah! ☆

Ahhh thank you so much for your order! ♡ Cater and Ruthie are having fun running the cafe, sneaking in a few kisses here and there as they serve customers ♡ I hope you enjoy! ♡

This is part of an event I'm doing where people can request stories by placing orders! For more information, please refer to this post! ♡

⋆ 𝓡𝓾𝓰𝓰𝓲𝓮 𝓑𝓾𝓬𝓬𝓱𝓲: 𝓙𝓮𝓪𝓵𝓸𝓾𝓼𝔂 ⋆

One order of donut bites and a lemonade, coming right up! ♡

⋆ When it came to your relationship, you knew how important sharing food was with Ruggie. Before you became a couple it was pretty much his way of courting you, splitting any meals or snacks he had. He would make excuses, like being full or not wanting it to go to waste. You could tell by the way he wouldn't meet your eyes though, nervously rubbing the back of his neck that it was something more, your chest growing warm as he walked away.

⋆ It was his way of showing that he cared, wanting you to be well fed. This trend continues even when you start dating, Ruggie providing for you in his own way. You felt so loved by how thoughtful he was, though you have had to scold him sometimes due to his methods, using his unique magic to take food from others or taking it while they were unaware. He could tell that you appreciated it though, your scolding always more affectionate than harsh. Some habits were just hard to shake, and you understood that was the case for him, loving him just how he was.

⋆ He couldn't help but get jealous at the idea of someone else sharing food with you, unable to shake the doubt in the back of his mind that others could provide for you better. He knows he's not like Kalim or Leona, well off and able to get you whatever you desired. That doesn't mean he wouldn't if he could, willing to give whatever he had to the ones he loved. It's what motivates him to work as hard as he does, wanting to be able to provide not only for himself, but his loved ones too. His grandma, the kids back home, and you. His precious flower.

⋆ So when you go out together and the server seems more friendly than usual, offering you a free dessert, Ruggie can't help but eat it out of spite, giving them a look as he thanks them. Or the barista from the coffee shop trying to give you a free drink, mentioning how they've seen you around before and asking for your name. He can't help it if they end up spilling the drink down their shirt, using his unique magic while you weren't looking. He was your boyfriend, not them. He can take care of you just fine.

⋆ Though his jealousy amused you at times, you made sure to reassure him, knowing that no one could love you as well as he could. Just as he longed to provide for you, you wanted to provide for him as well, slowly clearing his doubts over time. Food always did taste better when you had it together, after all ♡

I hope you enjoyed your meal, and thank you for visiting the Cathie Cafe! ♡

𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾! ♡

[officer-sebastian]

*Sebastian huffed and squeezed his way through an unexpected number of scientists and other employees through Sector E’s halls. Giving quick “excuse me’s” and “pardon me’s” as he kept rubbing shoulders with lab coats. Sebastian figured that this stretch of the Science Team must be clocking out for a late lunch, he’s never seen any sector’s halls so packed before, unless you count the highest level of top-side customer service and protection from the general and oddball public.*

Christ al’mighty Ah’m jus’ tryn’a git ta mah shift, y’know, th’shift that keeps y’all from actin’ like dogs without horses.. Clearly it ain’t helpin’ much, Jesus.

*After a few more left turns, the checkpoint position he had been assigned comes into view, another guard tapping his fingers on the desk and perking up at the sight of Sebastian.*

“Christ, Seb, what took you so fuckin’ long, eh? Was ‘bout to just clock out and leave this place hanging.”

*Sebastian just chuckled* Yeah, yeah, mighty sorry ‘bout that. Fer some damn reason th’halls were packed full of them lab rats an’ Ah could hardly git past. Go take’a piss an’ then cool off on yer lunch, Pauly, Ah got it from ‘ere.

*The guard scoffed and crossed his arms* “Whatever. Thankfully those old cronies only now just took lunch, what ever reason you’re filed under checkpoint over here, you’ll be glad to know it’s practically empty now. Have fun staring at the wall.”

Yer too kind. Ah take it ya prob’ly scared ‘em off an’-

*There was the faintest rumble between under their feet. Several lights from down the hall suddenly flicker and blow out, the emergency lights immediately turn on, painting the metallic walls an eerie red. Sebastian goes quiet at that, steadily eyeing the darkened hallway and listening close for anything suspicious.*

*Officer Pauly swallows audibly, eyes still on Sebastian* “The hell was tha-“

*BUZWARN* Warning. Power Outages Detected In [SECTOR E]. All Affected Personnel Please Be Advised.

*BUZWARN* Warning. Unauthorized Biological Forms Detected In [SECTOR E]. All Non-Disaster Response Personnel Evacuate Immediately.

*GARBLED BUZWARN* Warning. W-Warning. Security i̴̜̒̚͠n̵̢̫̞͍̍̆ ̵̦̏̂̑̉��͈̜[̶̨̰̹̟́͛̑̓S̶̢̰̤͛̀ͅĖ̵̟̲̌Ć̴̥͍̣̞́̐T̴̯̿O̴̻̮͚̅Ṛ̵̠̟͍͒͆́̄ ̵͔̓Ḙ̷́̏͘]̷̧̪͗̎͗͋ ̵̠̝͌͜͝R̵̖̼̰̬̅̍e̴̱̔͒̌p̷̡̙̥̜̊͆õ̸̻r̴̗̤̀̽̏̇t̶̨̧̺̫͠ ̵̞̻̲͑̑́̐T̷��̯̰̘̦̒̌ơ̴̼͔̿ ̵̘̣́[̶̖̰̓̇̓Ḁ̸͓̞̿̂̔̌D̷̞̫̣̻͗͗V̴͓̿A̸̢̻̤̘͂N̶̳̙̫̊͂C̷̜͎̆E̴̙̘͛̉̈̕D̷͙͕̜̹́͝ ̴̠͖̗͛͝ͅB̷̲̞͊̊͗Ḯ̸̘Ợ̵̩̒̏̇L̸͉̖̒̄̆̉O̵͇̅̀͘͝G̶͓͇̊̓̽Ḭ̴̦̥͕̌̌̊Ç̷̓A̴̮͉̩̋̀̀ͅL̶͎̈̆̇̚ ̸̗͕͌R̴̨̰̋̾͝È̷̺͕̏̓ͅS̴͕͆̚E̴͚̩̫̍̀̆͜͝A̷̼͋̃̍R̸̤̳͑̚C̴̩͕̼̬͠H̶̥̤̓ ̴͖̦̱̈̓͂̈͜C̶͙̿̒O̶̼̖̳̼͆M̷̠̖̬̦̽̾P̵̠͕̰̈͂̇L̸̝̀E̴̺̮̱̊̈̑͠X̵̛̗̹̂]̷͍́̃͑́ ̷̬͈̬͖̋͆Ị̸̛̩̲̦͒̅m̷̦̠͋̇̃͠m̵̖͕̙͉̿̚ë̸̬́̋͌d̴͈̹̝̀i̵̤̔̈́à̴̟͇̍̓͌t̸̲͍̦͒̽̄e̵̠̽̈́̇̈́l̶̰̍͜y̷̡̧̘̒̏̈́̈

*The two security guards listened in shocked silence as the automated comms buzzed in and out, the emergency lights flicking at the same time. Sebastian persed his lips in a straight line, taking a deep breath and suddenly pushing Pauly into the checkpoint box*

“THE HELL ARE YOU-?!” *The guard began to shout in protest, before Sebastian tossed him inside and shut the door. Pauly gets up immediately, pounding on the glass* “OI ASSHOLE! The fuck do you think you’re doing?!”

*Sebastian snapped his fingers and put one up to his lips* Quiet. Ah’m goin’ ta check it out. It ain’t lookin’ good on our department if they go an’ lose two men on th’job. Ya sit tight an’ wait it out fer me, ‘kay?

*The guard sputtered a few times at that response, gesturing his hands wildly before sighing and giving up any retort, having known Sebastian long enough to know arguing with him like this is fruitless* “If you go and get yourself killed I won’t be there for whatever shoddy funeral they give you. It’ll be all your fault down to the grave, Seb.”

Thank ya, kindly, Pauly. How ‘bout we go an’ git’a beer with th’boys if Ah make back it in at least 3/4s? Ah’ll make a’bet with ya. *Sebastian clicks off the safety of his pistol and checks the magazine while he talks*

“Wh- Pfft, fucksake, Sebastian. Fine, whatever, I’ll bet. Quit wasting time.”

*Sebastian nods and runs down the hallway, making a salute with his pistol before turning around completely*

[lil-gae-disaster]

So. How exactly is Jonathan doing during the spy mission? I really need a nickname for him

He's not doing too great! :D

He's missing Freddie a lot, plus at the same time he's kinda glad Freddie ls away so that he could consider a response to an inevitable rejection. Which is kinda freaking his tentmates out since he's muttering to himself.

He's also very lonely, so he might start socializing after putting it off for very long since he didn't need to, in his opinion (Jonathan tends to keep his social circles rather small out of paranoia he might accidentally be neglecting the friendship with one of them)

He also lost his (signature) braid since he doesn't wanna bother people ("You're just wasting my wifes time with your senseless requests, boy!")

He's also starting to recieve letters from Annabelle and his father again, talking about how irresponsible his running away was (they finally managed to locate him to sent him berate-letters) so there's that....

Honestly I think he'd start getting closer to either Cathy or Giles, or trying to get closer, and just whining about everything that's been going on. After they left that awkward stage of "what should I say...?"

I mean the three could certainly bond over awful fathers.

He's also shivering a lot since mah boy was living in a hot blacksmith for the past years and he had his (high quality) cloak (which he stole from his father when he ran away btw) which he gave Freddie because "you can't die on my due to hypothermia" so he might start asking around if anyone has a spare and he also starts to wear his coat more often than in the other seasons

All in all he has very much a self doubt era where he's constantly overthinking if Freddie would follow Hammy and commit treason and stay with the rebels or if Freddie hates him now of if Freddie might not want to at least be his friend anymore and-

Plus he's starting to have a lot of regrets. Most of them aren't justified though.

Like, it was completely reasonable to leave before he trapped Annabelle in an unhappy marriage and it was also completely reasonable to leave a letter of explanation and it was also completely reasonable to kiss and confess to Freddie

But Jonathan doesn't know that

So he's just kinda drowning in self doubt and spiraling thoughts without an anchor to hold onto because he didn't even talk properly with other soldiers because "why should he? Freddie will always be with me and he's the only one who needs to know me" (bro is lowkey scared of forming new relationships - even when platonic)

Well

Now Freddie isn't here and Jonathan is hanging on by a thread.

(Meanwhile Freddie and Joseph are about to start strangling each other before the argument™️)

[ @hamalicious-soup @papers-pamphlet @marsfingershurt @paradox-complex @half-eaten-baguetteee ]

[thatbigbisexual29]

It’s Only Funny When I Do It (ATSV)

Hello friends! I have written again! This one was surprisingly hard for some reason?? I had a certain line I wanted to use (credit to @giggly-squiggily​ thanks bestie!) but I had no idea how to write to that point. I think I erased and rewrote... 12 times?? But, I finally figured it out! I hope you all enjoy this one as much as the last! Also I know it isn’t a lot compared to other fics, BUT ITS OVER 100 NOTES NOW THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH!!! I can’t believe so many people liked my silly fic, it makes me feel so nice and accomplished. Anyways, hope you guys have fun with this one! :)

Miles was in trouble. Why did he start a truth or dare game with Gwen? Why did he say dare? Why did he commit to this stupid prank?!? He was dead. Even as he swung frantically through Brooklyn, New York to escape the madman chasing him, he knew deep in his heart that he was dead.

“MIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIILES!” Hobie bellowed after him, swinging towards him with a fiery anger in his chest.

“I’m sorry!! I thought it would be harmless! Gwen dared me to do it, go after her!” Miles shouted back. He desperately swooped through alleyways and cars, hopping over buses and roofs, doing everything in his power to escape the punk spider. But he just couldn’t shake the furious man.

“I’ll get ‘er AFTER I’M DONE KILLIN’ YOU!” Hobie barked. The older male swung up, twirling in a backflip, then shot a line of webbing towards Miles. It caught his back and Hobie yanked, causing Miles to lose his momentum and fall. Hobie was quick though, pulling the webbing closer so the younger man didn’t plummet to his death. He swung up to a nearby building and tossed Miles onto the concrete roof, watching him tumble onto his back.

“Ow! Ey, ey, EY! Chill! Let’s talk about this! Don’t you love talking??” Miles rambled in a panic, quickly backing away from the rapidly approaching Punk. Hobie wasted no time with thwipping Miles’ legs to the ground, then his web slingers so he couldn’t try to run away. Miles struggled to free himself with no luck. Finally, Hobie towered over him. It was hard to discern his facial features with his mask on, but his presence emitted rage.

“Miles. You’ve got free seconds to explain why I found DIS in mah flat today.” Hobie kneeled over Miles and held up his guitar. Although, it wasn’t his normal guitar. The strings were instead very poorly taped on pasta noodles. Some of the noodles were boiled, some weren’t, but after their little chase a lot of the noodles didn’t stay on the guitar. It really was a dumb prank and in retrospect, not even that funny.

“Ok, I know that you’re mad…” Miles began.

“Mad? Mad? I’m bloody fumin’, mate! Do ya know how much guitar strings cost?” Hobie growled, angrily slinking his guitar off his back but gently placing it on the floor beside them. 

“No…?”

“Nearly £120! Look me in me eyes and tell me you fink I can afford £120 of strings!” Hobie grabbed both of Miles’ wrists and forced them above his head, thwipping them multiple times to the ground.

“L-Listen! I’m sorry alright?? It was a prank! I didn’t mean to cut your strings I-”

“You cut ‘em?! Those strings were perfect, they were! Ooohoho Miles…” Hobie took a deep breath and sat back on his leg, tightening a fist and trying to calm himself. Miles tugged harder at his restraints but the webbing held true. He knew Hobie would never intentionally hurt him, but he couldn’t deny the nervousness that bubbled in his chest.

“Alright how about this, I’ll buy you new ones! Ok? And even after that I’ll still probably owe you! C’mon man we’re friends! Don’t do whatever violent thing you’re about to do!” the teen bargained, watching the eye lenses on the punk closely. Hobie turned his head back towards his friend and smirked under his mask.

“Me? Doin’ somefin violent? You know me all too well. But I ain’t gon do nofin to ‘urt yous, Miles. But tell me somefin. Your mum’s a nurse, yeah? You know how to stop a bleedin’ wound?” Hobie asked as leaned over the teen, cracking his knuckles and then his neck.  Miles swallowed nervously, attempting to pull his arms down once more before realizing he was screwed.

“You… you put pressure on it…?” he responded with a confused look to the older male. Hobie huffed a small laugh.

“You don’t say. I guess then you know wha’ I’m bouts to do wit these bleedin’ armpits, roight?” And before Miles could think, Hobie tasered his armpits with two fingers in each hollow. Miles barked out an embarrassing high-pitched yelp and fell into a loud cackling fit. He squirmed this way and that but Hobie just stuck to him (hee hee spiderman joke).

“AIIYE!! Gyahahahahaha! Hahahahaha Hobie! Ahahahahahaha whahahahahahat ahahahahahare you dohohohohohoing?!”

“Whas it look like, ya yankee? ‘M gettin’ revenge! As if I’d ‘urt mah protégé, come off it mahn. ‘Old on, dijyou jus snort?” Hobie asked, slightly recoiling at the sound he just heard.

And he was right. Miles had just snorted of all things. This was a big reason the teen avoided tickling or tickle fights because of his laugh. He was just too embarrassed. There were certain spots on his body that would immediately produce snorts, and his armpits were one of them.

“Pfffhehehehehehehahahahahahaha *snort* ahahahahahahaha! Stahahahahahahap ihihihihit! *snort* Nahahahahahahahahaaa! Quihihihihihit! Pleheheheheheheheeeease! *snort snort*” Miles snorted up a storm. He was glad he couldn’t see Hobie’s face because he knew he was smiling ear to ear like the Grinch.

“Ohoho nah mate. This is too good. Ya got a little piggy snort, do ya? Do ya always snort when someone tickles yer pits, eh? That’s hilarious, spidey. Kitchy koo~” Hobie teased as he scribbled all his digits into Miles’ exposed armpits, chuckling as the teen shrieked and snorted again.

“NAHAhahahahahaha! Nohohohoho kihihihihihitchy!” Miles argued, furiously shaking his head back and forth.

“Whas dat? No kitchy koo? Aw Miles, you’re such a lightweight mahn! C’mon mate, jus a few more! Jus a few more an’ I’ll stop wit de teasin’ yeah?” Hobie laughed as Miles shook his head more. He then moved his long fingers to his ribs which earned another yelp from the teen. Hobie couldn’t help but smile wider.

“Too bad! A kitchy kitchy koo~ Kitchy koo Miles!~ Aww, does it tickle? Ah bet it does. You wouldn’t be laughin’ so much overwise. Ain’t you cute? Wit all dese girly giggles an all. Oh mah god, you sound like Mayday! Hah! Tha’s adorable, mate. Does Gwen know about this?” Hobie teased, enjoying how Miles’ squirming turned to thrashing.

“STAHAHAHAHAP! DOHOHOHOHOHOHOHON’T TEHEHEHEHEHEHEHELL! HOHOHOHOHOHOHOBIE PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE! I’M SAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHARRY! LEHEHEHEHEHEHEHET ME UHUHUHUHUHUHUP PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE!!!” Miles screamed as he arched his back, wildly waving his head around while also trying to hide it behind his restrained arm. 

“‘Old on! You still ‘aven’t learned your lesson!” Hobie chuckled, tasering Miles' side to make him jump. Which he did. While also breaking the sound barrier for a split second with his shrill yelp.

“WHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAT IHIHIHIHHIHIHIHHIHIS IHIHIHHIHIHIHIHHIHIHIT??” Miles screamed, almost at his limit. Hobie took note of this, knowing he needed to wrap it up.

“Understan’ dis, Miles. Pranks are only funny when I do ‘em. ‘Ear me?” Miles nodded frantically and Hobie finally backed off and let the teen breathe. Then he realized what would actually help and lifted Miles’ mask over his nose, not revealing his whole face. Miles took in greedy breaths of air as Hobie fished out his pocket knife, slicing away the webbing that held him down.

“Oi, you good? Gonna recover or ‘ave I traumatized ya?” the punk teased. Miles let out a tiny cough and a laugh.

“Nah, I’ll need therapy after what just happened. Consider a lawsuit ramming your ass, Brown,” the teen responded cheekily. Hobie barked out a laugh and shoved his shoulder, falling on his butt (although he played it off like it was intentional).

“You’ll ‘ave to catch me first, Morales. Cheeky bastard,” the punk chuckled and looked into the sun which was now setting over the city. They sat for a moment, Miles calming down with Hobie waiting on him.

“Listen man,” Miles started, “I shouldn’t have done that. I know how important your guitar is to you, and I should have backed out of Gwen’s dare. And I'll get you new strings. We’ll stop at a music store, there’s one not too far, I think,” Miles said, sitting up to face the older male. Hobie looked at him and nodded.

“Yeah, sounds cuppa. You good though, honest? Don’ need a Mickey Bliss or nofin’?” the punk asked as he stood, offering a hand to Miles, who gave him a confused look.

“I seriously have no idea how I understand you.” Hobie snickered and pulled Miles to his feet as the teen pulled his mask over his face. Then, the two heard someone shout ‘help!’ from the road below. They shared a look and nodded. Guitar strings could wait. Though Miles learned a very valuable lesson that day.

Don’t ever prank Hobie unless you want to have a death wish.

[ho3smadd]

You belong with me

Pairing: ajax petropolus x reader

Request:Oooo let's see! How about annn 8 and 35 with MAH boy Ajax? :D

Summary: y/n and ajax like each other but don't know that the other person likes them back. So in an attempt to get over him, y/n goes on a date

Ajax entered yoko's dorm with a smile on his face. He couldn't wait to spend the day with his friends (he was probably more excited about spending the day with y/n)

"Do you guys know where y/n is?" He asked as he took a seat on one of Yoko's bean bags

"Didn't she tell you? She's on a date" Enid smiled happy for her friend

And just like that ajax's perfect mood was gone it had been crushed. Though he never said it out loud, he liked y/n he's liked her since they first became friends. He just never plucked up the courage to ask her out and he couldn't blame her for going on a date

But his friends noticed his mood shift. They all look at each other with knowing glances

"Why didn't you ask her out?" Bianca decided to be the one to start this interrogation

"Everyone knows you like her, it's really obvious" Enid chimed in

"Haven't you liked her for years?" Kent grinned

If looks could kill they'd all be 6 feet under , unfortunately looks can't kill so he is stuck answering all his friends dumbass questions

"Can you guys shut the fuck up. It wasn't that obvious that I liked her! And I didn't ask her out because she doesn't like me like that now stop with the questions"

Y/n entered the room after hearing everything ajax had said. Hope sparked in her, maybe he liked her back

"How was your date?" Xavier asked trying to change the topic

"It was bad, that guy was so boring I contemplated taking a nap" y/n lied a bit to hopefully make the gorgon besides her feeling ok

The friends ended up putting a movie on before curfew and when they had to leave ajax walked y/n to her dorm

"Will you come in? We need to talk" y/n played with her shirt , a nervous habit

Ajax smiled at her and followed her into her dorm before sitting down on her bed

It was now or never for y/n, she couldn't go on without knowing how he felt

" I like you ok ajax and I have for a long time and that date was a bust but only because I couldn't stop thinking about you" y/n blurted everything out in 1 go

Ajax gave her an award winning smile as he got up from her bed.

"I have liked you for years but I thought I'd ruin our friendship" He took her hand

" fuck being friends " y/n cupped his face, leaned up and kissed him gently

It took ajax a few seconds to register what was happening but as soon as he did. He kissed back, wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her closer

When they finally pulled away for breath, y/n didn't know what the boy was gonna say

"Will you be my girlfriend? I know I've wasted a lot of time by being a dumbass but I'll make it up to you " ajax put a strand of her hair behind her ear

" you know it took you long enough. So yes" y/n wrapped her arms aortic the boys neck and pulled him into another kiss

Ajax couldn't wait to tell xavier what happened

Requests are open :)

Thank you <3

@iam-mentally-unstable

[niamiya]

When you're all alone, I will reach for you.

Synopsis: You got ghosted by someone to which you didn't handle well, and now your roommate takes care of you 👍

Genre: fluffy fluff, comfort, a little angst??

A/n: TBH, I wrote this cause I actually did get ghosted by my crush recently (this might be me coping), so yeah 🤗 but hey, real-life experience makes the writing more realistic mweheheh (except i dont actually have a kaveh 😔) I like to write stuff based on my experiences and i love mah boy kaveh, anyways first post and sorry for any grammatical errors english isn't my first language!! Enjoy reading <33

Your crush had recently ghosted you, leaving you confused and depressed causing you to not want to leave your bed a rot there to the point your roommate, Kaveh, got worried. Whenever he returned from his work, he would usually catch you on the couch watching TV, but it had been weeks since he last saw you other than inside your room to the point that it felt like the place was filled with melancholy without yout presence, so he decided to check up on you.

"Hey, just checking up. Is everything alright? You haven't gone outside your room for a while now, can't help but be worried." Kaveh knocked on the door. The light from the living room shining past the slightly opened door to your pitch black room "I may not know what you're going through, but is there anything I can do to help?" He offered.

You jumped from the fact that kaveh had suddenly turned up to your room. You didn't think he'd be back this early since usually he would come back late due to him being an architect with possibly loads of projects, but even so, you covered yourself under the sheets not wanting him to look at you at this state which he did not take as an answer, he approached you and sat at the edge of the bed.

"Look, I won't force you to tell me what happened, but this is getting ridiculous it has been weeks. Could you at least let me take care of you? I can't see you in such a state," kaveh murmured. You can tell from the hint of his voice that he seemed like he genuinely cared about your well being, he had always been like that, caring about others more than himself, so much that sometimes you had to scold him about people taking advantage of his kindness.

But this time, it was different. It was you now who needed scolding for letting yourself rot in your room, skipping meals, ignoring and locking yourself from everyone over some person who broke your heart. This was the first time kaveh had to take care of you. He never saw you in such a vulnerable state (well maybe because you prefer to hide it) or it would always be the other way around because Kaveh would always put others first before himself which can sometimes not place a positive impact for his own good.

After a moment of silence, you realize he isn't leaving until you give him an answer, you slowly got up and let the blanket fall, revealing your puffy eyes and wet cheeks from the tears, pillow stained and crumpled tissues everywhere, your skin pale everything about you right now was so not you, you let out a hiccup and covered your face with your hands due to embarrassment, Kaveh gently rubbed your back making you feel more comforted as you sobbed more "I'm stupid, kaveh.. I wish I never wasted my time," you cried out to him.

He was listening to you tentatively, still rubbing your back while your words almost made no sense due to your cries and hiccups he was still listening, understanding your state, and trying his best to comfort you "Hey now, don't say that okay? You're not stupid at all. In fact, I think you did amazing. I've seen you giving all your efforts, and he just failed to see it, and it's not your fault," he admitted, truth to be told, he would always be the first person to hear what you have to say about your crush all the time even if it was a slight interaction, He had seen lengths you'd go through just to make your crush happy.

He removed your hands that were covering your face. Your vision was blurry due to your tears, but you could still see his figure wiping your tears with his thumb. "There there, you'll be okay. Trust me, I won't let you ruin yourself just cause one person broke your heart." he continued comforting you through it all to which you sobbed a bit. You thought that you'd have to go through this alone, but seeing your roommate now by your side gave you hope.

"I may not have much experience with this.. love thing, but I do know that not all people in this world are the same. You will meet someone who will notice all your efforts, so don't cry, okay?" Cheered kaveh, trying to find all the right words to say, all his words comforted your heart which was once shattered you couldn't help but pull him for a hug and let a few happy tears "thanks kaveh... for being here, I know you also have your fair share of problems to deal with, but you had always been so caring, " you whispered, with your hands around his shoulder.

"I'd do anything to see your 'too much energy' side again. In fact, I miss it, seeing you tell your day every time after I come back from work, so seeing you lock yourself away from everyone was devastating, " he whispered near your ear "you also have always been there for me when I always rant about my work, and I want to be there for you" he rubbed your back comfortingly confessing sweet nothings.

He slowly pulled away from the hug. "Come on now, you hadn't eaten any decent meal, right? How about I cook us your favourite meal for dinner?" He offered with a genuine smile. At that moment, you felt your heart skip a beat. You eventually nodded slowly. Your stomach had been rumbling all day as he gently took your hand, and both of you headed to the kitchen.

The light was almost blinding due to you being cooped up in your dark room for weeks, but the atmosphere felt comforting. The air felt fresher than the suffocating room. As you reached the kitchen, you sat down on one of the chairs as Kaveh prepared all the ingredients to cook your favourite meal. It's just a simple activity, really, but seeing your roommate so dedicated to cheer you up made you feel warm inside, he was smiling genuinely everytime he made eye contact with you whilst he was cooking the food.

Only then had you realized you were falling for your roommate.

______________________________________________

[faecaptainofdreams]

---TRIGGER WARNING---

Animal death, brief violence against an animal

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

"Fifteen was a tough age for me.

That was my angriest year, but also really important in terms of learnin'.

I unlocked a painful repressed memory, learned through trial and error that violence wasn't for me, but also, that neither was eatin' meat.

Growin' up, I was never a hunter; just a gatherin' type.

The only time I ate meat was if someone handed it to me or I could afford to buy it.

And truth be told I don't regret that, seein' as how I was always starvin'.

Those tidbits of protein no doubt pulled me through some serious drought!

But when I was fifteen, I remember walkin' a street somewhere and I saw this guy handing out samples of these little fish treats he'd made.

So I ate one, and bein' stuck up like I used to be, I asked him why he only ever handed out fish or seemed to cook fish.

No joke, he was out almost every day!

An' he told me that he only ever passed out fish, 'cos that was all he ate, meat-wise!

I was like...why?

An' he said it was because he had a policy; only eat what you could stand to kill.

Somehow, that resonated with me.

I'd never thought before about how I got the meat -- I just ate it, and appreciated it.

But it seemed, maybe I hadn't appreciated it enough.

Bein' on my own, I figured I needed to either put up or shut up, so I went out and...well...

A few nights later I was in some woods somewhere else, and decided to catch me a fish for the first time.

Because I thought about other animals, but anything more than a fish just made me feel sick.

I chiseled me a little stone carving tool, scraped a stick into a little wooden spear and waited by a river one evening.

Had mah fire ready and everything.

I remember my little heart was just poundin', I really didn't wanna do it but I had to know if I could.

I promised myself that no matter what, whether I could handle it or not, I would eat whatever poor animal I caught.

I was probably at that stream for half an hour or more, strikin' at fish and missin' em.

Until finally...

I got one.

A BIG one.

Had a rock with me because I figured it wouldn't just die instantly, and I was right.

My adrenaline was pumpin', heart was pounding, the fish was really strong so I had to really fight to pull it outta the water.

I hooked my fingers into its gills so I could drag it out faster, and once I had it on the ground I took the rock I'd brought with me and just started beatin' the devil out of it, square in the eye.

I did everything I could to kill it as quickly as possible, and from start to finish the whole ordeal couldn't've taken more than thirty seconds.

But it was enough...

Once I was sure it was dead I just sat there, looked at it, and what I'd done suddenly washed over me...

And I cried.

Just like fightin' folks with my fists to solve issues, I learned that huntin' wasn't for me, either.

I just sat there bawlin' my poor eyes out, and felt like the scum'a the universe.

It was dreadful.

Now worst of all, I had to eat the darn thing!

And I didn't know how to prepare meat or what to do -- it hadn't occurred to me beforehand that I'd have to gut it or anything like that.

So, still cryin', I dragged it over to my little campfire and struggled to try and cook it.

No, I did not open it up.

No guts, no nothin', just cooked it as was.

Then dragged it back over so I could sit and eat.

And I just...bit into it...spit out scales, tried to just...eat it.

God help me, I really, really tried to eat that fish, but I just couldn't stomach it.

When I bit in and hit bone or tendon or SOMETHIN' i gagged straight away, and realized I couldn't do it.

So I got up again and dragged it far out into the woods, and just left it there.

At the very least, I knew nature wouldn't waste it.

I felt like such a fool, and a terrible person.

Didn't sleep well that night, i can tell ya that much.

A few days later, I found a fish trapped in a shrinkin', drying-out pond and quickly ran it over to a stream and let it go.

That helped me feel like I had made up for the horrible thing I'd done.

Now don't get me mistaken, I'm not sayin' this is how everyone should operate.

All groups of people have different tasks for different folks.

Some are hunters, some are gatherers, some are laborers, etc.

It's okay to enjoy meat when you yourself are not capable of huntin', killin' and preparing it.

Just make sure you appreciate it, understand how it gets on your plate, say thanks to Someone out there for lettin' ya have it.

Thank the animal, too.

Meat is part of most people's DNA, most of us are omnivores.

But for me as an individual, that "eat what you can kill" motto has stuck ever since, and I just can't do it.

That was the last time I willingly ate meat, and after that I got more serious about how I found food in the wild and how to be more resourceful.

Oh as for the fish, I made peace with that a long time ago, don't you worry!

I was just tryin'a survive.

Regardless of how it went down and my inability to eat it, I thanked the fish anyhow."

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

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

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

Someone on Tumblr posed the question of how they figured Wander came to be a vegetarian.

Thought i'd take a crack at it with my own story ;)

[lackablazeical]

I'm bouta just ramble for a bit cus I have lots of stupid lil thoughts in mah brain

I love addams au a lot and I don't plan to drop it or anything, but this last year has been. Rough on me (went 2 psych ward got a job gonna be 18 soon etc etc) and I've been in such ✨️emotional agony✨️ that addams is hard to think about sometimes, with the memories and people that it makes me think of n such

I want and will keep working on it, but it may just be like. Random bullshit yk. I've been thinking of redoing Venus and Jennika a bit too lolz I just don't know what, cus them being turtles is eh but also them as Leosagi adopted kids doesn't itch my brain the way I wish it did

And an addams comic idea I highly doubt I'll commit to but who knows! I sure as fuck don't lmao God knows I don't have the time or commitment but also you have to hurt muscles t9 grow them

Also I know I was supposed to do an animatic for 1.5k followers but. That was right when I got just fuckn SLAMMED with Life and lost all energy time and motivation so idk if ilo decide t9 do smtun else or if it'll be real real late sooo yeah

Also been reconsidering selling old ocs of mine after I refresh em a bit but don't wanna waste the time if they don't sell yk? I may have it so half of proceeds go to various Palestine fundraisers

Also I've decided I change my tune, feel free to repost my art w/o permission but you HAVE to keep comments on!!! I want to see how ppl perceive me outside of my bubble yk!!! It's so upsetting fr

Anyway this is one of my recent fave songs enjoy

[lynn-vdg]

Wait how would a crack!dust and fresh sans interaction go??? Since Fresh thinks drugs are UNRADICAL MAH BROSEPH

ALSO THIS AU IS LEGIT SO COOL THANKS FOR MAKING IT YOU ARE TRULY SWAG

Okay so, as I said some time ago, I didn’t actually complete the comic.

Buuut, I thought it’d be a waste to just let what I did draw waste away

Sorry for not finishing it lol…

[midnightmah07]

Hello Mah! 💖

(I'm at a baby shower right now, and on mobile, so I apologize for any errors! 💖)

"Happy birthday, Daisy!" Ruthie says, holding out a gift for her. It was a cake container, with a homemade pumpkin roll sitting inside.

"I heard from Cay-kun that you love pumpkin, so I baked you a pumpkin roll! I made enough so you can share it with your beloved! I hope you enjoy!"

She hands Daisy the container before clapping her hands together, curious to know her plans for the day.

"So what do you plan to do for your special day? Is your beloved taking you somewhere?"

Thank you! 💖

Daisy giggled, a hand in front of her mouth.

"Ruthie, you're too sweet! Thank you so much! How about we eat this together?" She urges her to sit down as she cuts two slices of the rolls, giving Ruthie one piece. "This is the first time someone's referred to Ruggie as my 'beloved', it's quite adorable!"

As the blonde chuckles, she eats a slice of the roll, humming happily and quickly complimenting her friend, saying she'd have to make something for her in return.

"My plans? Ruggie said he had an important job to do yesterday, but he cancelled it when he remembered it was my birthday." Daisy smiled fondly at the memory. "Well, he said he still had some chores to do, but he would come right away as soon as he was done. Said something about a gift too, I just hope he isn't wasting money on me... Anyways! How are you and Cater-kun doing, Ruthie?"

[goldenlaquer]

AHHHHHHH OPEN REQUESTs FOR R6 AND COD ?? BABE U ARE THE HERO WE NEED BUT DON'T DESERVE !! Smooching ur sad face... bratty teasing pining reader with Mute, maybe? I heard his exhale in his trailer and AJWOOWKSJJAK WOOF WOOF i will tug his clothes steal his ammo tie his shoelaces GRRFFFF he gives me grief by existing and i wamt to give him some back. Ummm hcs obvsly those are great. Sfw would be aweeeesome ♡ thank u for your seggsy writimg always

MAH FIRST R6S REQUEST!!!! Thank you so much for coming to the call and fueling this madness!!! I shall make him suffer 🫡

Mark "Mute" Chandar Headcanons:

He fascinates you.

His every measured exhale under that impersonal gas mask. The restrained grace of his gloved hands by his sides. The controlled turn of his head. The absolute stillness of his presence. People say he's too quiet, and you suppose he is, but you think quiet is not quite the right word to describe Mute. No, "quiet" sounds more fitting for a shy, diminutive man. Mute is not shy or diminutive, quite the opposite. He's... imposing. Yes, imposing. He fills the space with his silence, and when he speaks, with his curt words (and you've heard him talk, that commanding drawl that is his Yorkshire tongue), with his austere build, and with the efficient prowl of his body over the playing field. It captures your eyes and ensnares your attention, makes you wonder where he gets that stoic composure from. And makes you wonder then, how you can break it.

He hates you.

Or at the very least, he dislikes you, because hate is a strong word that requires time and energy—you don't think someone like Mute would bother giving time and energy into someone he deems a waste of it. He hasn't expended himself into saying as much, but it doesn’t take even a genius to guess, how he must see you.

That babbling ninny. That scurrying busybody. That gravel in his boot.

All unflattering sobriquets of yourself— but hey, you take full responsibility for it. After all, you've got no one but yourself to blame for wrapping up in a terrible mischief with him, especially with how quick you come to realize that he isn't as stone as he appears.

What is a barrier to others is a mere suggestion to you. His guarded silence is a perfect opportunity you've taken yourself to fill with chatter that you're sure grates his nerves. Cheery greetings that are unreciprocated, questions that are ignored and questions that receive one word answers that you treasure and mull over and over in your head like a smitten idiot.

(Whatcha doin? No. What's your favorite color? No. You like jazz? No. Can I see you without your mask? No.)

You breathe in temerity and breathe out obstinacy. Audacity kindles every fiber of your being, and Mute with his frosty ire is the fuel that keeps it burning. You reach out with fluttery fingers and, like a seeking child, tug at his straps and pockets for attention that he refuses to give. You poke his sides and scritch the underside his mask like you would a cat, and you are reminded of the delicate bones in your finger when he grabs it and gives a warning squeeze.

It doesn't work, but make it worse. Your offenses grow bolder still. You camp out under chairs and tables so you can tie together his shoelaces and yell boo! to his unaffected countenance. And he fishes you out and puts you back on your ass so you can go ahead and lace his boots back properly again. You steal a gun from a holster and empty out its bullets into your shirt, offering a generous exchange: one kiss per bullet.

and you pout as he fists the front of your clothes, and shakes you, metal falling off you like candy from a piñata.

You fill in some of his blanks with what you hear from others, snippets of the snippets. That he's a genius, a child prodigy of some sort. University at 14. Operator at 25. Impressive.

"You a nerd, Mute?" You have to ask, toeing the line between bravery and plain stupidity, wanting to push him into something beyond pale of his stoic irritation. And you think you come so close to that, your breath held as his head slowly turns to you. And you can sense it, the simmering red that lies under his skin— but only after a stretch of strained silence, Mute dismisses your existence all together by turning his head back away.

This is a risky and nonsensical game that you’ve initiated, one that he wants no damn part of, and one that you’re determined to see to an end.

Like a stray, you follow him around so much, one quick step behind his long, impatient strides, that Smoke jokes that Mute has picked himself up a little miss poppet of a shadow.

You enjoy this. You think that you can do this forever. Bug him until he snaps and, and kills you or whatever. Or until, one day, the front of your shirt is grabbed and you're suddenly hauled up to the height of six foot one, until you can see nothing beyond your moon eyes blinking in reflection of his dark lenses.

Piss. Off.

His low, harsh voice forms each growled word with punctured vehemence.

Oh, you've done it now. This is too much. This. The wide expanse of his armored chest flattening against your much smaller and softer form, pushing deeper into you with each heavy, angered breath, filling your ears with no room for quarter. Like this, he is not quiet. Like this, he is not stiff. No, he's alive, full of furnace heat and motion, and very much pissed off.

He means to scare you off like this, to use his height and menacing anonymity to cow you into submission, into leaving him alone.

But this is what you want. All that you have craved for and more. Everything you've worked towards built on the hope of seeing just one sliver of this scene.

So instead of cowering away, you all but arch forward into his grip, into his chest, your excited pants picking up to sync with his. And in the mirror of his mask, you see how your lips slightly part, the roundness of your shiny eyes. In that moment, you see yourself exactly as how he must see you. Just how— adoring, you look.

He stiffens— in rage? in disgust? you don't know, you don't care youdon'tcare– and his grip tightens in your shirt, your collar definitely ruined beyond repair. You hear your quivering breath pick up and feel the pulse in your throat throb as you are dragged further into him until there is only a gap the width of a piece of paper separating your trembling mouth from kissing 'X'.

(and if you let out a whimper here; what would happen?)

Apparently, a fuckin’ hell in the form of a tempestuous snarl ground out through gritted teeth is what you get.

and you are unceremoniously thrust back to Earth, your shirt’s neckline gaping horribly around your throat. Left behind to dazedly watch with a pleased smile at the retreat of his broad back and the string of colorful choice words he leaves in his wake.

You: 1. Mute: 0.

[deke-rivers-1957]

ECU High - Danny's Ambition

The alarm clock rings and Danny groans as he gets out of bed.

"Just how *expletive* is this day gonna be?"

There's a knock on his door as he hears his sister Mimi.

"Danny, are you decent?"

He sighs. "Yeah Mimi, Ah'm decent. What's up?"

She comes into his room.

"Daddy says he has to take the car today. Are you gonna be alright to walk to school?"

Danny rubs his eyes.

"Walkin to school's all I do anyway. No reason to waste gas over a mile. Ah'm tellin ya Mimi, if I gotta redo senior again I might as well drop out."

She tries to smile. "Don't drop out Danny. Daddy's still trying to get a pharmacy job. That's why he's taking the car. Mr. Primont called him in for an interview. If he gets the job you can quit and focus on graduating."

He stands up and stretches.

"That'll be the day, sis. Ah really hate havin ta ask the juniors for money. It's embarrassin."

The mood is somber and Danny looks lost.

"Ah just wanna wake up one morning and not gotta worry bout money. I don't wanna have to rely on other people."

She goes over to hug Danny. "I know you feel that way, Danny. You just need to take it one day at a time. Now eat up. I got breakfast waitin for you."

He sighs.

"Alright. Gotta change first. Be right down."

Mimi smiles and leaves the room. After changing, Danny goes down to eat breakfast as fast as he can.

"Ah'll see ya later, Mimi."

He grabs his backpack and starts running to school. As he makes it to the school's parking lot, a rusty old pickup truck pulls in. The engine has a strange sound to it.

"Howdy, feller."

Danny looks up.

"Oh hey, Jodie. Hell's up with yer engine?"

Jodie shuts it off and gets out. "Ah dang carburetor's done actin up. Gotta find somethin worth replacin it. Ol gal's goin on 50 so's Ah gotta keep 'er runnin."

Danny looks at the truck. "Ya going to the junkyard with Mike?"

Jodie grabs his books.

"Yeah Mike's ride done lost 'er fender. We's goin ta mah job fer parts."

He stops at the stairs. "Danneh ya got wood shop 1st period?"

Danny looks at his schedule. "Let's see. Nah I got wood shop 2nd period. What classes do ya need to pass this year to graduate?"

Jodie laughs a little and looks down.

"Math, science and readin. Mr. Wade tol me Ah gotta do good ta stay on the wrasslin team. Says he'll kick mah ass if Ah done keep failin and gotta repeat a year."

Danny sighs. "Dunno how you plan on doin that man. We're all idiots ta be able to tutor anyone."

The first bell rings.

"Ah'll be seein ya feller faster than Ah done load a shotgun." Jodie says as he heads inside.

Danny heads to the gym but almost gets hit by a car.

"Dammit Mike ya almost hit Danny."

Mike smiles as he parks.

"Ah yer just worried bout your insurance rates Mikey. "

Mikey (short for Mike Windgren) glares.

"No *expletive* I'm worried Mike! I don't want my Saturn to kill someone!"

"Well Ah didn't so don't get yer panties in a twist. Now let's go before we're late."

Mikey groans.

"Sorry ta almost hit you Danny."

Danny keeps going to the gym.

"Hey Guy are you lookin for someone?"

A boy on the football field turns to look at Danny.

"Yeah that *expletive* Mike skipped band practice today! How're we supposed to set a good example to the freshmen if we ain't all here?!"

Danny sighs. "Well go yell at 'em when ya see 'em Guy. He'll probably show up when he feels like it."

"Yeah well he better! Ah'm not bout to have our drummers be outta formation because that *expletive* decided not ta practice!"

Danny shakes his head and makes it to the gym.

A whirring sound is heard as a small helicopter lands. A young man steps out with a girl on his arm.

"And that's how ya land!"

She looks amazed.

"Oh wow, Rick that's so amazing. How many more hours do you need to be able to teach me for real?"

He gives her a cocky grin.

"Only 20. Maybe if yer willin to wait a couple months I can teach ya."

Her eyes widen.

"Wow I'd like that! I'll see you around then, Rick."

He gives a thumbs up. "You know it baby."

Danny rolls his eyes.

"How many demonstrations is that now, Rick?"

He laughs. "Oh Danny. Don't ya get that it's good for my social life? I get to put my hours in while getting some babes. I see that as an absolute win."

Danny starts walking again. "Whatever Rick."

He makes his way to the gym when he sees his friend.

"Oh hey Ross!"

Ross turns around.

"Danny good ta see you! Still tryna make ends meet. How 'bout you?" he asks smiling.

Danny looks down. "Same boat. Pa's gonna have an interview today so fingers crossed."

Ross rubs his eyes. "Least there's a light at the end of the tunnel for ya. I gotta find a better job that'll pay more. Buc-ee's just ain't enough to pay the bills."

"I hear ya, Ross. Being a busboy at 2 nightclubs ain't a good paycheck either."

A whistle is blown. "Awright ya *expletive* line up!"

Everyone lines up when they hear Mr. Wade's voice. No one messes with him.

As Mr. Wade makes his opening year speech about gym class Danny's mind starts to wander.

"All Ah want is ta make it through the year. If Ah can jus make 'nough money, Ah can buy back our house. Pa ain't ever gonna be embarrassed ever 'gain."

Tag list: @vintagepresley, @thetaoofzoe, @ashtag6887, @whitepontiac, @tupelomiss, @richardslady121, @just-another-boring-bisexual, @aliengoth3, @phil2135561, @gayforelvis, @ash-omalley, @eptodaytommorwforever, @mercsandmonsters, @wildhorseinkansas, @alienelvisobsession, @comebackep, @presley72elvis, @leopardandstuds, @ellie-24, @heart-of-ep, @thatbanditqueen, @be-my-ally, @arrolyn1114, @xanatenshi, @jaqueline19997, @vintagegirl50s60s70s80s, @j-v-9-2, @mydarlingelvis, @almightybigbrain, @pinkcaddyconfessions, @miniaturerunawaykid, @myradiaz, and @msamarican.