#[just so that's easy to find if i ever pin an announcement]

[itzsana-kiddingmenow]

Hii!! 👋🏻 I just read the lee Han fic during their predut era and it's the cutest thing ever😫🥺 And it got me thinking, so the boys went to the met gala right and they looked super nervous, esp. Seungmin and Chan. And then I saw those jerk photographers comments and I had a thought. 🤭😙What if after the event, when the boys go back to their hotel rooms to rest, they sort of finish their night time routines and just gather in one room and then everyone sort of has a tickle fight to sorta get rid of the nerves and lift the mood. And like what if they all go crazy and just tire eo out and play games and have snacks and pillow fights and stuff and end up sleeping in a big pile together 🤭🥰 I really love your writing style and did love it of you could write something with this but it's okay if you don't want to as well. Hope you have a great day/afternoon/night Sana❤️❤️

Also can I please be 😛 anon? Or 🐰or 🪼?

𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙚𝙩 𝙜𝙖𝙡𝙖 𝙖𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙝:

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙨: 1.1k

𝙖/𝙣: i put two random members for the header okay, also the photographers at the met gala what the actually fuck it made me so angry 😡

𝙩/𝙬: swearing, rough tickling, I WROTE THIS LIKE TWO HOURS AFTER THE REQUEST FORGIVE ANY MISTAKES

𝒍𝒆𝒆: skz

𝙡𝙚𝙧: skz

𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @someone-who-loves-kpop-saranghae @jeonginsdiary @leeknowstan33 @v--143 @wereallgonnadieonedaybutnottoday @inkytornpagess @lajanaa @a-wild-seungberry @channieissocute125 @soap143 @seungsluvv @skznccmlee @moony-9

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐞? 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐮𝐛s 🐾

“Those photographers were fucking jerks!!” Felix growled, shaking his head in disapproval.

Everyone watched in fear; it wasn’t often their brownie boy was upset. 

“Calm down, Lixie. I think we just need to rest.” Chan sighed, Felix sighing before setting his coat on the couch of thier private hotel room. 

Everyone filed into a line to place their coats gently over each other, throwing off their gala outfits and replacing them with tees and tank tops. 

Changbin sighed. “Finally, these are way more comfy. I loved our outfits, though.” 

Seungmin nodded in agreement. “I feel so stiff and upset about those photographers, though.” He grumbled. 

Jisung nodded, pulling his shirt on. “I hated it. They were so rude. Emma was nice, though.” He smiled, and everyone began to talk and laugh. 

After eating, Chan pounced on Seungmin on the bed. “Stop being so upset. I’ll cheer you up!!” Followed by fingers slipping under his shirt and into his belly button, earning a loud shriek from Minnie before loud laughter filled the room. 

“AHHAAAHAAA!! HYUHUHUNG!! DOHOHONT!!” Seungmin whined, twisting around with a wide grin on his face. 

“But we should.” Minho replied with a fond smile, leaning over to blow raspberries onto Seungmin’s neck, causing the vocalist to scream and thrash crazily. 

“You shouldn’t be talking!” Jeongin announced bravely, pulling Chan off of Seungmin and digging into his hips immediately, causing Channie to bark out a laugh. 

Of course, Chan was stubborn and kept his lips shut, trying to keep himself from laughing. 

His strength was zapped from the effort, making it so much more easy for Hyunjin to pin him down. 

Seungmin was still laughing crazily as Minho blew raspberries onto his belly, Jisung and Changbin helping to hold down the thrashing vocalist. 

“Tell us your worst spot and this will be easier, hyung!” Innie grunted, slipping his hands underneath Channie’s shirt to tickle at his sides. 

Then the dam broke. 

“Jackpot!” Jeonginnie crowed happily as Chan shrieked and burst into loud, uncontrollable, crackly laughter. 

“NOHOHOHOO!! AHHH AGHAH AHH STOPPP AHAAAHAHAAA!!” Channie screeched desperately, suddenly whipping his head around when he heard a high-pitched squeal. 

Hyunjin screamed dramatically as Minho found his next target, taking a deep breath before finding the ferret’s sides, blowing out as hard as he could. 

“STAHAHAHAHA—!!” Hyune begged desperately, cackles pouring out of him in an uncontrollable rate. “AHHAAAHHAAHHA!!”

Jeongin finally let up on Chan, causing the leader to jump onto Jisung, pulling him off of Hyunjin.

Felix attacked Innie’s side promptly, causing the maknae to dissolve into a puddle of messy giggles. 

“Wahahait! Hyuhung—AH!!” He squealed and fell desperately back into Felix’s arms, the small raspberries on his neck making his laugh squeaky and cute. 

Minho immediately realized the next target and left a limp Hyunjin to recover on the bed. 

“HAAHAHAHAHA!! WHY AHAM IHI BEHEHEING GAHAHAHANGED UP ON?! CHEHEHEATERS THIHIS IS SO UHUHUNFAIR!!” Jisung could barely get his words out, three pair of heads (Chan, Minho, Seungmin) pushed into his belly and blew the most torturous raspberries he had ever felt onto his tummy. 

Hannie screamed desperately as more heads joined, sending him ballistic. “STAHAHAHAHAP OHOHO MY GAHAHAHAD!!” He shrieked. 

Jisung managed to get the strength to push his fingers right into Minho’s belly button, causing the dancer to jolt aggressively and squeal, causing half the group to pile onto him and reduce him to a laughing puddle of hysterics. “AH!! HAHAHAHA GUHUHUYS AHH!!” Minho screamed. 

“AHHHH AHHAHAHAHAA!! STAHAHAHAP NOHOT MEHEHE!!” He shrieked when Changbin pushed his head onto his v-line, blowing out as hard as he could. 

Minho scratched and slammed at Binnie’s shoulders and back, screams clawing their way out of his throat one by one. 

Minho slipped his hands around and found the edge of Changbin’s shirt, slipping his hands up and drilling into the rapper’s ribs as fast as he could, leaving Changbin’s eyes to widen in surprise before a loud scream filled the room. 

Binnie fell over immediately in a fit of ticklishness, hands fighting with Minho’s as the older got onto his lap, hands still scribbling everywhere under his shirt. 

”EHEHEHAHAHAHA!!“ Changbin screeched, kicking around and screaming when Minho gained his strength back and threw his shirt up, pressing his lips to the small pudge on Binnie’s tummy. 

”You ready, Bunny?“ Minho didn’t even let the rapper respond before blowing a buzzing raspberry onto the sensitive spot. 

“NO!! NOHOHO NO NAHAHAH NOHOT THEHERE PLEHEHEHEASE!!” Changbin was hysterical immediately. 

“Oh? This spot gets you begging in no time!” Minho exclaimed, leaning back down and blowing raspberry after raspberry, causing tears of mirth to slip down the rapper’s red cheeks. 

Meanwhile, Chan narrowed his eyes, catching a certain brownie boy trying to escape the situation by hiding behind Hyunjin, who was the least likely to attack him. 

“STAHAHAHAHAP!! HYUHUHUHUHUNG!!” Changbin’s screams echoed through the room as Chan chased after Felix, the brownie boy’s squeals lost over the black-haired rapper’s howls of laughter. 

“PLEHEHEHEASE!!—I cahant!! I CAHANT HYUNG NO!!” Binnie managed to pull Minho’s head up for a few seconds, but the dancer was merciless, latching onto the boy’s belly like glue. 

“NOHOHO NONO!! PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASEEAAHHAHAHA!!” Changbin let out a howled bout of exhausted laughter, cackles pouring out of him endlessly. 

Chan managed to pin Felix and slip a finger into his belly button just as Minho let up on Binnie’s pudge, the rapper slumping underneath him in exhaustion. 

“WAHAHAHAHAIT!!” 

Even Binnie’s head turned at the screech Felix let out, grabbing at Chan’s wrists as the leader dug into his clothed side. 

His thin shirt offered very little protection, not that it mattered considering the black-haired menace was pulling up at it to get the sensitive skin. 

“Hyung…DOONT!!” Felix screeched as Chan ducked his head near his belly button. 

“Everybody got raspberries today, except you. I’ll fix that!” Chan giggled, blowing out into the little button, causing Felix to let out an ungodly scream before descending into the loudest laughter Chan had ever heard from him. 

“STAHAHAHAP!! YOUHURE SO MEHEHEHEHEAN!!” Felix whined, bucking up with a desperate cry when another raspberry made its way to his side. 

“OKAHAY OKAHAHAY!! CHRIHIS PLEASE!!” Felix finally gave in, slumping under the leader and drumming his heels into the floor, throwing his head back and laughing and laughing. 

“Okay, okay. Big baby.” Chan laughed, everyone breathing heavily for air. Binnie fell off the bed and onto the pile of giggly men on the floor. 

Minho rocked the bunny to sleep, whispering sweet nothings in his ear while the others snored softly. 

Their backs aching the next morning was either because of their sleeping spot on the floor or from the aggressive wrestling coming with the tickling. 

Or it’s because Chan’s old now—

LMAOO

[acapelladitty]

Jonathan Crane/Reader - Hysteria 📋 (Kinktober #6)

Summary - A commission from the absolute delight that is @glorified-monster who asked for a medical exam from the good Doctor Crane as he diagnoses you with hysteria and 'cures' it in his own special way 💦

Having finished explaining your symptoms, your fingers pluck at the scalloped hem of your skirt as the fabric hangs delicately just below your knee. The chair you occupy sits across from the object of your focus, Dr Jonathan Crane, as you attend another session with the good doctor, hoping to find some release from the torments which are afflicting you.

“Hysteria.” Tapping the edge of his leather chair with a thin finger, Crane observes you from behind wire-rimmed glasses which flash as they catch the dimmed light above. “I believe you are suffering from hysteria, based on the symptoms you have described.”

“What’s that?” You ask, thoughts racing as something heated shifts in the atmosphere of the room.

“Hysteria.” Crane explained, raising one of his legs to cross the other as his fingers move to steeple below his sharp chin. “A psychological response to sexual repression, one which can manifest as a series of physical and mental ailments. Common for women of a certain,” he pauses, “disposition.”

“Is there a cure?”

A predatory look slips into his features as he leans forward and the intensity of it sparks a flush of arousal which makes your teeth press against your lower lip.

“Well first, the repression at play must be established. What is your deepest sexual fantasy? The one which you would deny if accused.”

His voice has deepened ever so slightly, the southern accent curling around the question like a serpent just waiting to constrict and choke its prey.

“I-I’m not sure that will hel-”

“I’m a medically trained professional.” Crane huffs out a low breath. “I can guarantee discretion.”

The myriad of qualifications which cover the wall behind his chair hold a sudden interest and your gaze pans across the official-looking documents as shame washes through your chest, heating you from the inside out as a sweat breaks across your spine.

You mumble your answer, heat flaring in your cheeks as your eyes remain tactfully glued to the wall just past him.

“Louder, child.” He drawls out, something teasing toying at the simple words. “Your evasive responses make the answer clear but for the sake of progress you must announce it fully.”

“I want my doctor to touch me.” You blurt out, meeting his gaze with a nervous expression as the confession spills free. “I want him to run his hands under my skirt and make me feel good.”

Crane moves so quickly that it forces a squeak of surprise from your throat as he towers over your seated frame. Your back presses against the leather seat as you gaze up at him, the scent of cologne – woody and masculine – washing over your senses as he leans in closer, looking every inch the cat who caught a very anxious canary.

“Doctor Crane, what are you doing?” You ask, the question little more than a whisper.

“Administering your cure. It’s an easy fix. Particularly for a wanton little thing who I bet is already as wet as a whore from sharing her filthy fantasies with her patient doctor.”

Your breath hitches at the open vulgarity, thighs pressing together tightly as the dampness between your legs grows more pronounced. A shudder runs across your skin as he drops to one knee by your side, his face now on level with your own as his intense gaze pins you into place. His eyes are beautiful, a robins-egg blue which have haunted your thoughts as your hands moved frantically between your legs. Even with the limitless power of fantasy, somehow this is still more erotic.

“Remove your hands from your skirt and place them on the armrests.”

A heated demand which brooks no disobedience and one which you follow with a muted whimper, dropping the hem of the skirt and wrapping your fingers along the edges of the leather arms.

“Spread your legs.”

Your knees part, legs visibly trembling as a bead of sweat rolls down your back, catching at the base of your shirt. His expression is stoic, the only hint to his own arousal being the hint of fire which flashes through his icy gaze and the definite bulge which juts free of his darkened slacks.

A pathetic keen slips free of your lips as his finger disappears beneath your skirt to run along the fabric of your cotton panties; his movements following the concealed slit there as he trails his finger up slowly and feels out the undeniable dampness. It’s hot and teasing, the movement forcing a fresh whimper as his fingers brushes by your clit before pulling away.

“You’re even more ready that I could have anticipated.” Crane comments, his words disengaged yet somehow mocking as he lays his large palm flat against your slit, applying a torturous pressure to the desperate skin there. “Perfectly responsive and in need of swift treatment.”

“Please, Doctor Crane- just touch me. Please?” Hearing your own words, you’re so turned on that you don’t even care how pathetic you sound. “Right there. Please!”

Taking pity, two of his fingers push past the fabric of your panties and bury themselves in your cunt; the sudden, sharp pleasure drawing a low yelp from your lips as your right hand jerks from the armrest to cover your mouth. The sudden fullness is intense, his wonderfully long fingers meeting absolutely no resistance as the wet warmth swallows him with ease, greedily clenching around his digits to pull him in deeper.

“I can feel that, little rabbit.” Giving an experimental crook of his fingers, the pads brush along that soft spot in your walls which makes you see stars and you groan out your approval. “I can feel you trying to take it all, begging for more like a whore. A whore who spread her legs for her doctor just because he told her to.”

“Yes. Y-yes.” You agree, grinding your cunt into his palm as he continues to pump his fingers in and out, an obscene noise accompanying the methodical movements. “The doctor knows best.”

He chuckles at that, a high and dry noise which is accompanied by his thumb joining the fray as it brushes soft circles around your aroused clit. Your entire body alighting with pleasure, his fingers stroking along your sensitive inner walls paired with the soft manipulations of your clit have your moans growing in rapid intensity as the heat of orgasm builds in your core; your hands gripping the arm rests so tightly that the leather creaks beneath them.

“Do not hold back on your orgasm.” Crane instructs and his accented words have lowered once again as he focuses on the erotic task at hand. “It will help to alleviate you of your pains.”

It’s all the instruction you need and the hot tension which burns within your lower stomach snaps in an instant as he flicks his thumb across your clit. Vision darkening as your eyes slam shut, every nerve in your body bursts to life as one as you clamp your cunt around his fingers and come. His fingers don’t stop moving and the sloppy sound of his shifting digits grows even more pronounced as your mess coats his hand, your nails digging into the leather of the chair as they fight to gain purchase against the intense pleasure which is curling your toes and tightening your throat.

All too soon, his fingers pull free of your twitching cunt and you watch through watery eyes as he wipes off his release-stained digits on the off-white handkerchief which sits in the breast pocket of his brown suit as he stands fully. Panting, you allow him to grip your chin between his thumb and forefinger – his fingers shockingly warm – as he tilts your head up at him and you don’t miss the almost amused expression which now plays at the edges of his features.

“You take your medicine well. Perhaps we should see about setting up a recurring appointment to ensure that each of your symptoms are taken care of.” Crane muses, twisting your head slightly to admire the high flush which faintly stains your skin. “Today was merely a taster session of the recommended remedy but I feel that you would benefit from a more intense administration.”

Still reclined in his chair – the mess between your legs hot, sticky and uncomfortable in the most delicious way – you cannot deny the spark of interest which alights in your features at the potential of future treatments in the dextrous hands of the good doctor.

[transpersian]

Zena and Poppy: Abusive Hypocrites - Master Post

last updated on 3/29 (added deep cover post, restructured post w/ most recent documents first)

Hi there! I'm Milena, Poppy Diabolique's "psychotic ex" and the alleged head of what she dubbed her "League of Evil Exes." While we're more of a co-op, that doesn't have the same ring to it as "League," does it?

This is mostly to track my own I'll be updating this post with additional content as it's published, so please check back to my page for the most up-to-date version, which I'll leave pinned.

Please be sure to also check out @poppyandzena's page, as they've been diligently collecting and cataloguing evidence and other testimonies for months.

Please take your time reading through these. It's emotionally difficult content and there's a lot of it, so please prioritize taking care of yourself. It gets worse than you think and I've put plenty of headers in these so it's easy to find your place again.

Feel free to reach out with any asks. Barring confidentiality agreements, I'm an open book.

For legal purposes, all testimonies and commentary on this page or any of the documents linked from it are allegations. The screenshots, however, are evidence. Any edits will be very obvious and for the purpose of respecting confidentiality.

Also, I've got a searchable index of everything they've ever said on stream. Tell me what you're looking for; I'll let you know where it pops up (with timestamps!) and potentially maybe telling you where to find the video itself.

~~~~~~~~~~

Major posts:

My goal with these posts and documents is to provide as much context and evidence as possible, so please remember to take care of yourself if you need to and take a break. It's a wild ride full of deeply upsetting behavior. All of the abuse-related CWs, short of flat-out physical violence.

This is only what I've put out, though, so please check out @poppyandzena for more testimonies. There are a lot.

LUXANDER STREAM - The debut of AH2 and Poppyamory 2+3 with excellent commentary. A great place to start, and if you have trouble reading lots of text, a great alternative to reading it yourself.

P&Z: Abusive Hypocrites (Part 2) - A TLDR overview of the public information available so far about PZ's conflicts with Noehflake, Dormiyu, and Spawn. A good place to start if you just want to skip to the current stuff.

Poppyamory 3: Poppy's (Para)Social Media Presence? - Poppy's online presence shows a pattern of questionable behavior.

Poppyamory 2: is poppy acephobic? - A collection of screenshots of several times where Hayleigh expressed not being interested in sex and that she was potentially/probably asexual, only to have Poppy fight against it however she could.

Poppyamory 1: what PZ are hiding about their visit to Noehflake - An exhaustive collection of DMs preceding and following the alleged "rape by deception" in December. It completely demolishes any notion that Hayleigh did not clearly communicate how she felt about the relationship before the trip.

Spawn 1: what PZ are hiding about their kid - (also, those paying attention may have noticed it was doc 3, like I'd said 😉)

Poppy and SFW Spaces (Part 1 and Part 2) - Poppy has some weird ideas about what SFW entails, including around minors. Part 1 has several examples, part 2 looks at how they handled a situation where someone said they were uncomfortable with it.

P&Z: Abusive Hypocrites (Part 1: Milena) - My account of the conflict that ended my relationship with Poppy (and Zena). Pales in comparison to what we learn in later docs, but still contains extensive evidence of how they handle themselves in private.

Other significant posts:

Deep Cover - How I navigated going undercover with Poppy for over two and a half months.

Doc 3 is about PZ's kid - My initial announcement that I was in touch with Spawn and that I was planning on releasing a doc for them.

Does Poppy normally share private information with her mods and close friends on the server? - TLDR: yes; also confirmed by two other former mods on here.

My thoughts on Poppy's controversial kinks - TLDR let's not kinkshame the general kink, let's make sure we're being very specific with evidence-based accusations.

Poppy calling me "psychotic" in her posts - Just a shining example of one of the many behaviors that a professional therapist should know better than to indulge in.

Zena's PMDD does not excuse their behavior

Posts from others about PZ's split with Courtney Orchard and Britt:

Poppy's sexual harassment of Britt

Why they got into a fight with Courtney

What they did when things deteriorated between them and Courtney

DO NOT PEDOJACKET POPPY

Courtney on Poppy, kink, and abuse

Why you shouldn't listen to Essence of Thought about any of this

None of us were knowingly protecting Poppy

Why are you doing this?

@zenaandpoppyonyoutube are an engaged pair of content creators who have positioned themselves and their community as a safe place for neurodivergent, traumatized, emotionally vulnerable, and queer people, including specifically being a safe place for Lily Orchard's victims and fans to escape to. Poppy is a professional licensed therapist. Zena is... there.

Unfortunately, while they say the right things, what they do is a completely different matter. If you're here, you want to know more.

If you're here because of the Courtney Orchard situation, hopefully this will provide enough additional context to make their behavior in the situation make more sense, or as much sense as it can make.

I'm making this post to catalogue the most important information about this subject, including linking to relevant documents and accounts. The goal is twofold:

to protect online communities from them

to provide a space for other survivors of their abuse to feel understood and heard

Why are you waging a hate campaign against a fellow trans woman?

Because this is not a hate campaign; it's a callout of PZ's patterns of harmful and dangerous behavior. It tends to start small and then turn into something genuinely horrifying. Nobody who treats people the way that they do in private should be in any position to tell anyone what's best for their mental health, much less be regarded as authorities, role models, and community leaders.

They're not big now, but Poppy is charismatic, quick on her feet with responses, and weirdly mean-spirited sometimes; somewhat of a perfect combination for the leftist political space. Even now, I know people with friends on their server who've said that those friends have been slowly getting more bitter, judgmental, and cruel.

They have the potential to gain some real momentum. They're a toxic influence that will spread their genuinely harmful ideas about how relationships and boundaries work, particularly to younger people. While their usual content ranges from uniquely insightful to petty drama squabbles, those segments aren’t the issue. These concerns come up when they’re discussing their personal lives, sometimes even making it into their main segments and published videos.

~~~~~~~~~~

Why not just let this go? You know you look insane to most people, right?

Because what started as a Twitter thread responding to them taking our personal matters on stream has cascaded into me being a support contact and safe haven for fans and victims of theirs.

You might think this is petty content creator drama, but I promise you, it's so much worse. PZ are an exceptionally unwell couple who have left a trail of vulnerable people in their wake, even more broken than they were initially. This goes beyond messy break-ups; we're talking about brutal gaslighting and abuse that derails people's lives, cutting people with abandonment issues off from their friends and community, and driving partners to new depths of abuse trauma that they're left untangling for months (and years).

We're talking about familial abuse, prioritizing their own pride over the safety of abuse victims, and the relentless use of diagnoses as shields against criticisms of their behavior, including Poppy's questionable understanding of sexual boundaries and appropriateness due to her hypersexuality.

This is not just drama. I'm not being hyperbolic when I say that they've already almost killed someone, and with the kind of people that they attract, it's only a matter of time before that "almost" doesn't apply anymore.

These aren't just abusers; these are self-righteous monsters who refuse to recognize or acknowledge the damage that they continue to cause, and are skilled at twisting the narrative to match the version that makes them feel the most justified in their behaviors.

They're not going to get better. We've tried. They don't even see the problem with their behavior in the first place.

[oepionie]

Hi! I'm not sure if this request is odd, but could I request Jamil with an s/o that's skilled at pharmacology and cooking?

CHARMING THE SNAKE. jamil viper

Character/s: Jamil Viper x GN! Reader

Tags: Tooth-rotting fluff, slight angst if you squint really hard

WordCount: 700+ |💌 Masterlist

> If you were skilled in pharmacology, I can see him being interested in the research work you do. He enjoys spending time with you in your lab while you work, however occasionally he gets sidetracked and ends up staring at you instead.

Jamil watched you move around the lab efficiently, grabbing papers and test tubes as you went. He sat in the far back, leaning against the wall as he watched you in your element. His half-finished homework was scattered on the desk in front of him. Homework that he had abandoned in favour of staring at you instead.

Your hair was pinned back with two golden snake clips, ones he gifted you himself. You had a focused expression on your face, tongue occasionally darting out to wet your lips. He let his gaze move to the soft line of your cheeks before finally looking into your eyes. They were like sparkling gold coins, pieces of pale, polished emerald, dazzling amber, and intricately carved jade, similar to the gems and jewels he'd seen at the bazaars back in the Scalding Sands. Your eyes shone under the lab's overhead lighting like hidden gems in rich dirt. Jamil wished to stare at them for hours, had stared at them for hours.

"That essay Sir Trein assigned isn't going to finish itself, Jamil." You mused, not looking up from your papers as he stared at you from across the table. He blinked before hastily looking down.

"Ah. Yes of course."

> Cooking dates? Cooking dates. Jamil would put both your culinary abilities to use and convince you to join him in the kitchen. After all, isn't cooking so much better with your beloved?

Placing a sheet of phyllo dough into the pan, you quickly grabbed a pastry brush, brushing the sheet with melted butter. Jamil was, unsurprisingly, placed in charge of food preparations after Kalim announced yet another weekend party at Scarabia. You had promised to help, and now here you were, wearing a frilly apron while preparing Baklava in Scarabia's kitchen.

"How is it?" Jamil placed a hand on your hip, brushing his lips against the shell of your ear. You jumped, cheeks burning up from the close proximity between his body and yours.

"Make sure the mixture is layered properly." He spoke in a low and deep whisper, eyeing the pan. He clasped his hands over your own, guiding the pastry brush along the pan.

"J-Jamil! I know that! Shoo! I'm trying to concentrate here." As you turned to face him, he gave you a sly smirk and stepped back. His charcoal grey eyes swept over your body before settling on the apron you were wearing.

"Kiss the chef, huh?"

"It was the only apron they had left!"

> Despite the teasing, he would actually melt if you cooked for him, though he'd feel a bit guilty about it. Being the vice dorm leader and Kalim's babysitter retainer leaves him with little free time, thus he hardly ever finds the opportunity to take care of himself. He is incredibly appreciative of your love and generosity, it might just take him some time to get used to it.

"Jewel? What are you doing here? Jamil stared at you bewildered. He was on his way to history class, running a bit late since he had to rush back to the dorm when Kalim once again forgot his homework. That's when you unexpectedly arrived, looking a little unkempt and holding a lunch box in one hand.

"Jamil! I've brought you lunch!" you say brightly, your one free arm raised up to beckon him in for a hug. Jamil closes the distance in less than a second, pulling you in. You pressed a kiss on his cheek, chuckling when you felt his skin burn up.

"Thank you but you really didn't have to." He steps back and coughs into his palm, attempting to maintain his composure. Jamil knew that cooking for him every day was no easy fit, especially when you're practically swamped with all the work that Crowley dumped onto you. Still, as with anything thrown your way, you somehow always go out of your way to make time for him.

"I wanted to! Here, take it!" Ignoring the pang of guilt in his chest, Jamil plucks the lunch box from your hands. He's careful with the meal, lifting the cover to catch a glimpse of what you've made for him today. The meal featured a bed of creamy milky rice which was topped with a butter-coated roast chicken.

"Saleeg? I was just craving this earlier, how did you know?"

"It was just a hunch~"

Likes and Reblogs are greatly appreciated and motivating on my end !

[ckret2]

I've been really looking forward to posting this chapter. It's got it all: angst, comedy, meaty plot progression, banter, Bill and Ford screaming at each other, Stan getting an MVP moment, Soos being Soos, and a grappling hook. And this:

It's admittedly harder to take Bill's stuck-in-a-human-body grief seriously when he's wearing a pony toga and goofy bug wing face paint.

Anyway here's chapter 5, and here's one, two, three, and four if you missed them.

####

The car had been on the road for several tense minutes before Bill announced his return to consciousness by startling upright, attempting to shout through his gag, looking around wildly, and then kicking Stan's butt through the back of the front bench.

"Hey. Hey! Easy!" Stan turned around to swat at Bill. Bill responded by headbutting his hand.

Trying to ignore Bill and keep his eyes on the road, Ford said, "Soos?"

"You got it." Soos leaned to the right, gently pinning Bill against the door.

Bill grunted, squirmed mightily against his fate, kicked the front bench a couple more times for good measure, and then started rubbing his face against the car door handle.

"Give it a rest," Stan said. "There's no way you're jumping out of a moving car. You're completely tied up and you've got a seatbelt on."

"Safety first," Soos said.

"Plus, the handle on that door sticks."

Bill gave them both a murderous glare, shot another at Ford just because, and resumed rubbing his face on the door handle.

It took a couple minutes for him to use the handle to peel the duct tape off his mouth. He spat half a wet sock at the back of Stan's head. "Where are we—Hey! Hey! Look at me! Where are we going?!"

Gaze never wavering from the road, Ford said, "You don't need to know."

"All that matters is you're not coming back," Stan said. "You're gonna be staying with some old friends of mine until we figure out how to deal with you. Real professionals. Not even you could find a way out of this."

"There's nobody to manipulate when nobody is listening to you," Ford said.

Soos, ever helpful, threw in, "Stan hasn't really told us much about these dudes? But I've been getting some 'prisoner pit in a serial killer's basement' vibes off of how he's talking about it."

The rage quickly drained from Bill's face, leaving behind a stricken look. "It's not that golf cart chop shop, is it?"

"What?! How did you kn—" Stan whipped around to gape at Bill, then stared at Ford. "How did he—?!"

"He has eyes everywhere," Ford said resignedly. "I'm sure once he got his claws into me, he started looking into my family's lives."

Soos considered this, nudged Bill, and said, "Hey. What kinda creepy stuff do you know about me?"

Bill didn't answer. He was staring blankly at the back of the front bench. Voice oddly flat, he said, "So. You leave me with a bunch of professional criminals. What's your plan then, smart guy."

"I don't know yet," Ford said. "And that's exactly why we're leaving you with people who can keep you contained—and keep your puppet alive, whether you like it or not. All they need to do is buy us time until we find a way to extract you from your puppet and destroy you for good."

"And what if you can't 'extract' me."

The car was silent for a moment. Finally, Ford said, "Then whatever poor woman you've taken over has already lost her life. Destroying you and her body would be a mercy killing." Stan nodded once, sharply.

Bill slumped back in his seat. He stared out the window at the dark trees passing by.

The car's headlights swept over a sign reading "Now leaving Gravity Falls."

Bill choked on his breath. His gaze whipped forward, staring out the windshield, eyes wide—and they got wider. "Whoa-whoa-whoa wait wait stop STOP STOP! WATCH OUT!"

Ford slammed the breaks.

"What'd we hit?" Stan leaned over the dash, squinting into the dark. "After you insisted you're a better driver than me—"

"I didn't hit anything—there's nothing in the road—"

Hysterically, Bill demanded, "Are you trying to kill me?!"

Which was such a fantastically stupid question that the whole car turned to stare at him. He was wheezing on the verge of hyperventilation, pressed as far back into the car seat as he could get, feet raised and braced against the back of the front bench, face contorted in fear.

Trying to sound irritated to avoid sounding rattled, Ford said, "What the devil is it?"

"Are you crazy?" Bill snapped. "You almost drove straight through the bubble!"

Soos and the Pines all looked forward. There was nothing but the dark road beyond their car. Ford gave Bill a wary look. "The what?"

"The—the bubble! The weirdness bubble! The barrier around this stupid town! You c—you can't see it, can you." Bill jutted his chin forward, gesturing out the windshield. "Well whether you see it or not, it's right there!"

Stan shrugged. "So?"

"SO?!" Bill's voice cracked. "So whaddaya think happens to me if I hit a weirdness barrier in a moving car?!"

Stan considered that a moment. "I dunno... That sounds more like your problem than our problem."

"Hey, it's your upholstery, buddy! But if YOU wanna see what happens when you hit a deer and it teleports inside the car—"

Stan snuck a foot over to the driver's side footwell and pressed the gas, making the engine rev. Bill flinched and yipped like a threatened chihuahua. Stan laughed.

Ford was staring hard at Bill. "The weirdness barrier shouldn't affect you from within the mindscape. And even if it did, it wouldn't affect the body you're inside. It would only affect you if... you have physical form?" He scrutinized Bill's face—not his eyes, but everything else, taking in his facial features, looking for something familiar. "You're... not possessing someone, are you?"

Bill's breath hitched.

Stan looked between the two of them. "You mean that's just him? He's a regular human now?" He gestured dismissively at Bill. "Why shouldn't we just hit the barrier, then. Take care of you now. I oughta get the ol' Diablo reupholstered, anyway."

"Oh! Oh! So that's how you want to play!" Bill let out a shrill, harsh laugh. "Fine, be like that! Do it—if you're sooo sure it won't just set me free! Do you like the sound of that? Wanna find out whether blowing up this flesh prison will kill me or unleash me?" He leaned into Stan's face, baring his teeth, smiling viciously. "Go on, tough guy—think you can get me with another lucky sucker punch?"

Stan scowled—but instead of rising to the bait, he gave Bill a hard, considering look. "What's your game?"

"Ha! I'm playing games an idiot like you couldn't even imagine—"

On Stan's behalf, Ford tapped the gas, nudging the car forward a few inches.

Bill shrieked. "What's wrong with you, you maniac?!" Over Stan's guffaws and Ford's chuckle, Bill snapped, "I've had it!" The rear door swung open. Bill tumbled out onto the road.

"Hey!" Soos scrambled after him, but by the time he was out of his seatbelt, Bill was on his feet and running.

He was running very badly. He'd somehow managed to free his wrists and ankles—his ankles were raw and bloody and his handcuffs, still locked, lay innocently in the back seat—but his elbows were still chained to his sides and his knees were tied together. Stan jumped out of the car, saw Bill trip and sprawl on the asphalt less than twenty feet away, and laughed so hard he needed to lean on the car for balance.

Ford caught up just after Soos tackled Bill. "Well! There. Here you are." Ford's fists were trembling. "You couldn't have thought you'd escape, Bill. What was the point of that—that ridiculous demonstration!"

Bill's cheek was pressed to the ground hard enough that he had to squeeze one eye shut; but it didn't stop him from giving Ford a smarmy, smug smirk. "To be annoying," he said. "For you. Personally and individually."

"Fffp— For me?! Why? To what end, Bill?!" Ford knew Bill just wanted to see him angry. And it worked. "Of all the places in the world you could have gone, why are you back here! What could you possibly get out of harassing us again! After all you've done to us already!"

"What." The change on Bill's face was instantaneous. "After... what I... have done to you? WHAT I'VE DONE TO YOU?!"

He was screaming so violently that his body shook with it, threatening to throw Soos off. "I HAVEN'T DONE ANYTHING TO ANY OF YOU! Look at you all, you hale and hearty little animals, with all your dwindling decades left to you—what about ME?!"

He jammed a fist in Soos's gut to knock him off and lunged for Ford, clawing at his ankle and coat hem like a zombie reaching from the grave. Ford tried to stumble back, but tripped over Bill's hand and fell hard on the asphalt. Bill wrenched an arm free from the chains around his chest with a wretched bony CRACK, and crawled on top of Ford.  "I was perfect! I was a new god! I'm the most sublime thing your universe has ever seen! What am I now?!" Bill's bound knees dug into Ford's abdomen, his clawed fingers reached for his face. "MEAT! I'm MEAT, Stanford! My body is rotting off its bones as we SPEAK, in a few years I'll be dust! AND YOU WANT TO TALK ABOUT WHAT I 'TOOK' FROM YOU?!"

His fingers closed around Ford's throat. "What did you lose! TELL ME what you lost! I gave you EVERYTHING you ever wanted—knowledge, magic, secrets, INFINITE worlds to explore! I offered you more! I offered you immortality! Divinity! So WHAT! DID! YOU! LOSE!" He punctuated each word with a furious shake. He was frothing with rage, choking on his rage, so furious he was nearly sobbing. "And do you REALLY THINK it comes CLOSE to the eternity you STOLE FROM ME?! You KILLED me today, Stanford! I DIED TODAY—"

A grappling hook whistled past Bill's face, nearly hitting his nose, smashing into the bark of a tree. Bill froze, eyes wide, the taut wire inches in front of his mouth, staring down at Ford. And then he let go. He didn't resist when Stan dragged him off, or when Stan and Soos wrapped their arms around him in case he lunged for Ford again. His knees briefly buckled before he got his feet under him again.

Ford stared up at Bill, rubbing his throat.

He'd never seen Bill angry like that before. He'd seen Bill angry enough to kill, and it had never come close to that. Bill's anger was always the petty tantrum of an entitled child who had been denied something he thought he deserved.

This was the anger that came from grief. Bill was grieving himself.

"This... really is you, isn't it?"

Bill's jaw tightened.

"Great Uncle Ford!" Dipper dropped to a knee beside Ford, grabbing his shoulder. "Are you okay?!"

"I'm fine, Dip—Dipper?" Ford stared at him, and turned to look at Mabel and the two bikes further up the road. "What are you two doing out here?"

"Following to make sure Bill doesn't try anything?" Dipper said. "Like he just did?"

Stan said, "Whoa, kids, it's way too dangerous f—aw, forget it. Just how the heck did you find us?" (He'd handed Bill over to Soos, learning nothing from the lessons of the last few minutes; but Bill didn't make another move to escape. He leaned into Soos for physical support, shoulders slumped, his whole face sagging with exhaustion.)

Dipper said, "We figured you wouldn't let us come, so Mabel bugged the car after dinner."

"She what?"

"I poked a hole in a bag of glitter and taped it under your bumper!" Mabel pointed at the sparkly red trail leading along the road to the car. She was trying to pull her grappling hook out of the tree it had smashed. "Hey, Grunkle Ford! We saved your life twice in one day! I think you owe us a pizza or something."

Dipper nodded seriously. "Definitely."

Ford rubbed his neck. "I don't think he was even trying to kill me. He was just..." Ford trailed off, staring after Bill. Out of that mad monologue of historical revisionism, the part that echoed in Ford's head was the last words. I died today. It was still that fresh to Bill?

Mabel frowned. "Aw, c'mon, Grunkle Ford. Lemme have this."

He dragged his gaze from Bill and laughed, ruffling her hair. "All right, all right. I owe you two a pizza."

"Yes!"

"No wonder you slipped these off," Soos muttered, holding the handcuffs in one hand and one of Bill's hands in the other. "You have delicate little baby hands. I bet it's really easy for you to get things out of jars."

"Sure." Bill sighed listlessly. "But it makes playing the piano a pain."

Soos more tightly handcuffed Bill's delicate little baby hands in his lap, considered how best to keep him from running off again, and finally wrapped an arm around Bill's shoulders. "There. Buddy system!"

Bill endured this indignity with the vacant-eyed stoicism of a shell shocked soldier.

"So, what's going on?" Dipper asked, looking at the stopped car.

"We're at the edge of the weirdness barrier around Gravity Falls," Ford said. "And Bill can't cross it. And, obviously, him slamming into it would be like driving into a wall. It would be fatal."

"To just Bill? Or the tourist, too?"

"There is no tourist. That's—him."

"Yeah," Stan said. "So he claims, anyway. I'm not sure I believe that."

Mabel gasped and grabbed Dipper's arm. "I knew it! Grunkle Ford, Grunkle Stan—I think he's telling the truth! When Bill possessed Dipper, he was all cold and gross like a dead body. But this time he's normal!"

Stan screwed up his face, tilting his head. "I dunno. Something's still fishy. He's holding something back, I'm sure of it. Sixer, you've had more practice figuring him out than anyone else, what do you think?"

Ford sighed. "Unfortunately, he's also had more experience manipulating me than anyone else. But, all the same, I... I've never seen him so..." He meant to say furious. Instead, he said, "hurt." 

Ford wondered if there really was something to Bill's anger that he had never seen before—or if it was just easier for Ford to see it now that it was on a human face. If there were other nuances he'd missed over the years.

Glancing toward the car, Ford didn't see any anger on Bill's face now. It was completely blank—not emotionally neutral, but empty, like he was too exhausted to feel. "Bill's a good liar, but I've never known him to be a good actor. I think that... outburst was sincere."

Mabel said, "I've seen him impersonating Soos, Dipper, and Blanchin Blandin, and—he's convincing when he's doing normal stuff, but I've never seen him try to fake having emotions."

Dipper said, "Yeah, he's not really big on emoting. Pretty much the only expression he knows how to make on purpose is the world's creepiest smile."

"Okay," Stan said, "so he's probably telling the truth about being stuck in a human body and being mad about it. What about that thing he said about setting him loose again if we kill his body."

(Dipper and Mabel exchanged a look. Dipper mouthed Trojan horse, and Mabel nodded.)

"Because here's the thing," Stan said. "Say that's a lie, and killing him will just kill him. If he's half the liar you say he is, he woulda been trying to convince us from the start that his life is the only thing standing between us and the apocalypse. So why'd he only pull this out at the last minute, when it sounds like a stupid excuse?"

"He didn't need to tell us before," Ford said. "We thought he was possessing a tourist, we didn't want to hurt her."

"Ending the world's a lot scarier than killing one tourist! Why bother with the 'tourist puppet' schtick and then escalate? Maybe he's just not as good a con artist as you say, but—just—!" Stan flung his hands up. "Something about this isn't adding up!"

Ford said, "So you think it's a double bluff? He told us killing him would restart Weirdmageddon so we'll think it's a lie, kill him, and actually restart it?"

Stan paused. "No," he said. "No, that's not it, either. If it was, he coulda just let us drive into that invisible barrier without saying anything."

"Then what? What's he actually trying to make us think?"

Stan stared at Bill, still turning over their conversation in the car, trying to put his finger on what had seemed wrong about it.

Wanna find out whether blowing up this flesh prison will kill me or unleash me?

He could see Bill's face yesterday, on the ground at Stan's feet, barrel of a laser gun aimed at his forehead, looking past it to stare straight into Stan's eyes. Go ahead, Stanley, let's find out what'll happen. He could have claimed then that killing him would end the world—or he could have forced Stan to shoot—but that was all he'd said. Let's find out.

Slowly, Stan said, "He's not trying to make us think anything. He's banking on us being too scared to gamble on what'll happen if he dies. Because he's too scared to gamble." Stan turned to stare at Bill. "You! You don't know if you can come back from this."

Bill blinked and focused on the Pines, glare darting between them.

"Do you?" Stan crossed his arms.

Bill's face twitched, and his defiance collapsed: "No! I don't know! I didn't get an instruction manual with this stupid body—I don't know if I'm free to go after I serve my sentence or if this is death row!" He forced a furious smile. "But if I don't know what's going to happen, then neither do you! Nobody does! So do you want to find out the hard way?!"

Bill looked from face to face; their silence was answer enough. No. They did not want to find out the hard way. He laughed loudly, reveling in his one tiny triumph.

"All right," Stan barked, "I've had enough of your crap." He cracked his knuckles, marched up to Bill, and socked his jaw.

Bill immediately shut up.

The other humans politely clapped.

####

If they couldn't take Bill out of the bubble, then for now, there was only one place to take him: back to the shack. Stan borrowed a phone to step off the road and have a quick, hushed conversation with his contacts about the change in plans, while Ford helped Dipper and Mabel attach their bikes to the roof of the car.

When Stan returned, Ford said, "We're running out of seats." What he really meant was they were out of seats that would keep the kids away from Bill.

"Just stick me in the trunk!" Bill—leaning against the car boredly while the humans rearranged his incarceration plans—had regained some of his usual pep now that one small thing had gone right for him. He had, somehow, got his hands on the bat Soos had stowed in the back seat, and had been holding it like a cane, unnoticed until he used it to gesture toward the trunk. "I'm a prisoner! Humans put prisoners in the trunk, right?"

Stan snorted. "What, and let you kick out the taillights and escape? I don't think so. And who let you have a weapon!" He snatched the bat from Bill and tossed it in the trunk instead. "Kids, you sit on the front bench." Stan and Soos slid into the back with Bill jammed in the middle.

The drive was very, very quiet.

The only noise was the quiet squeak as Bill took up steadily kicking Ford's side of the front bench. Ford's grip on the steering wheel tightened, and he said nothing.

Stan kicked Bill's ankle. Bill kicked Stan. Soos leaned against the window in a futile attempt to escape them, and sighed.

And then the car was silent again.

"Say!" Bill said, loud enough the other passengers started. "What is it, about three? That's morning! Who wants to go get breakfast?"

"No," Stan and Ford said.

"Aw, come on! I think we're near that truck stop where Sixer had a psychotic episode!" Bill kicked the front bench more enthusiastically. "I thought you guys decided to keep me alive! You'll have a hard time doing that if you let me starve to death."

Ford said, "You're not going to starve to death between now and when we get home."

Soos blinked. "Hey, he slept through dinner, didn't he? Dude. How long has it been since you last ate?"

"Do socks count?"

Dipper and Mabel cast a suspicious glance at the damp half sock lying in the front footwell.

Soos shook his head. "Uh-uh."

"Then depending on which way of measuring nonlinear chronology you want to go by, it's either been a week, a year, or a millennium."

Soos furrowed his brow. Stan sighed impatiently and said, "Okay, wise guy, how long does your body think it's been since you last fed it."

"I've never fed it."

The humans stared in shock. Even Ford spared a glance in the rearview mirror.

"Ohhh right, I'm supposed to be doing that. That explains the ceaseless abdominal pain! And the vertigo when I stand up! And the mood swings!" Bill laughed, "Hey, Fordsy! Turns out I was just hungry!"

"I'll stop for breakfast if you never call me that again."

"Deal!"

Ford took a turn toward the Triple Digit Truck Stop.

####

[frozenjokes]

CuteGuy Would Prefer Greatly If HotGuy Never Ever Had Any Nice Things, But Especially Not His Good Friend And Roommate Cubfan135 (1/3)

I absolutely refuse to go through an add italics to the tumblr versions of my fics but grian is so angry all of the time it was necessary in this case

next

“So let me get this straight.” Grian, well, CuteGuy stood over HotGuy, the hero’s head pinned under his own boot. It was times like these that Grian considered ditching the boots altogether; wrapping his talons around any hero’s face like this would be an absolute sight, but alas, he wasn’t trying to get painful calluses all over his feet. Grian was sure HotGuy could escape this if he wanted to; he’d just have to roll to knock Grian off, but he stayed still, staring up at Grian with those big, pathetic eyes. “You want my help with your romantic endeavors. You want to pretend fight so you can pretend win, yeah? Impress that special someone?”

Grian knew who it was, of course. Not because HotGuy announced it or because it was on the news, no, but because this certified idiot had set his sights on Cub. Cub! His roommate Cub. What could HotGuy even want from a guy like Cub- just a guy! A human, not even a conventionally attractive human, who hardly knew anything about heroes and villains other than their names! Cub, who worked a shitty job with a shitty manager, who basically did nothing but go on little walks and hang out at home- there was nothing about Cub that stood out, so why in the fuck was HotGuy so- Grian hissed, pressing a little harder on HotGuy’s head, who grunted. HotGuy didn’t get to have Cub. Cub wasn’t- HotGuy didn’t even know him! He didn’t get to take Cub- his Cub- and turn him into some kind of hero worshiper!

“Stop looking at me like that!” Grian’s anger reached its boiling point, though HotGuy didn’t flinch, looking more disappointed than anything.

To his credit, he did look away, pursing his lips, “So I take it you’re not a fan of the idea.” The infuriating amicable lilt to his voice stayed even despite his face being crushed against the pavement, and Grian wanted nothing more than to choke it out of him.

“What gave you that idea?” Grian snarled, and HotGuy shrugged.

“When you’re really pissed off you start drooling, and honestly, it’s quite gross. Are you stressed? Have you considered Xanax? Does wonders for me on bad days.”

“My insurance won’t renew my prescription and my doctor fucking sucks.”

“Ah, I feel you buddy. I mean, I basically live in a hospital, but sometimes I need some more benign stuff and it just feels like the whole system is out to get you! Don’t even get me started on before I got into the hero business, gosh. Well, if it makes you feel any better, you were far from my first choice. I asked The Goat, but he told me that would be a monumental waste of his time, Mumbo told me he wouldn’t be convincing enough and also to stop calling him he’s retired, I haven’t seen Worm Man for years but I’m still looking-“

“How many people did you ask before me?” Grian tried not to be offended, but honestly, he was very offended- HotGuy has the gall to ask favors then admit Grian wasn’t his first choice? Why not? He knew why. But why not???

“Anyone I could find, really. I mean, heroes are easy enough to track down, but a lot of them are busy and also don’t give a fuck, but villains kinda just wander around and cause problems wherever. Though, I figured if I stood here long enough you’d jump me like you did last time. Hey, by the way, if you see Poultry Man, will you tell him I’d like to talk?”

Grian seethed; he had seen HotGuy up on the apartment complex where they had fought last and assumed he was looking for Cub- was Grian really that predictable?

“The last thing Poultry Man would want to do is help you impress some guy you don’t even know- what’s the deal anyway? Don’t answer that, I don’t care.”

“Hey! I know Cub plenty! We had such a nice walk the night you broke my visor and then a lovely lunch date the next day! Well- maybe not a date. I don’t know, I never asked what he thought. I kind of don’t want to know, though. And I wasn’t going to ask Poultry Man to help me do anything, I just wanted to talk to him about all the chickens he released into the poor woman’s home- it’s not important-“

“Poor woman? She’s a fucking asshole.”

“It’s not important,” Scar strained, and Grian felt the tiniest bit vindicated, “All I meant to say is that I would feel bad beating the shit out of Poultry Man, even if it was just pretend. He’s just a misguided guy in a chicken costume.

“Misguided?” Grian’s hiss cracked into a higher pitch, “Poultry Man is EVIL. Poultry Man could CRUSH YOU. What makes you think you’re any match against him, huh? Really.”

“I mean, his costume looks a bit bulky, not great for maneuvering. I doubt he can see very well out of the mask, too. I don’t know, maybe he’s like, secretly ripped or something, but I still don’t think he could do much damage.”

“You’ll regret underestimating him when you’re taking your last breaths under his claws.”

“Oh, I hope not! I just wanted to chat about where he got those chickens, but you’re nice for standing up for him! You’re a good friend, CuteGuy.”

“I-“ Grian felt his body short circuit for a moment, everything replaced with the type of fury that can only be released by picking someone up and violently shaking them. HotGuy was perfectly polite about it, enduring Grian’s fit of rage before hanging somewhat limply in his arms, not even using his own legs to stand after Grian was done. HotGuy stared. Grian stared back.

“You’re strong.”

“Fuck you.” Grian dropped HotGuy, who just collapsed, wholly unready to support his own weight. Fine. Good. With a few strong beats of his wings, Grian took off, leaving HotGuy firmly in the dust. Flying was good and the evening breeze was good and if shaking someone annoying wasn’t enough to make them stop being annoying, then it was time to let it go. Something Grian was famously bad at.

When he looked back HotGuy was still just laying there, INFURIATINGLY, just staring at the sky! He wasn’t even looking at Grian, he was just completely zoned out-! What was his damn problem?

Grian’s boots cracked against the cement on either side of HotGuy’s waist, and HotGuy screamed, so genuinely frightened, Grian was pretty sure the noise would color his memory for the rest of his life. “Where are you meeting him?”

“What?” HotGuy squeaked, and the sound was just as beautiful.

“Where do you want me to be for your stunt?”

“I-I was going to meet Cub at the City Park-“

“Are you crazy? Are you trying to get me arrested? You’ll meet here, in the parking lot across the street at 9:00. And I don’t do play fights, but if you shoot me I’ll rip you a new one. And I want $500.”

“That’s- a lot of money-“

“You won’t miss it. You and your piece of shit rich friends spend that kind of change like it’s nothing on designer clothes and cocaine. And I want to see your sorry face when you’re forced to cough it up after I flatten your ass then steal your man.”

“You- why are you so mean to me? Hey- you are not allowed to-“ Grian didn’t let him finish, beating his wings hard enough to batter HotGuy’s face before taking off, definitively this time.

Perfect. This was going to be fun.

[jadedbutler]

back when i'd first read dark rise, i'd written this little moody rescue au oneshot for Will & James (KempClair? What're we calling them lol),

I'd started drafting a James POV + continuation of it, which was left marinating in my gdocs until i read dark heir last weekend and had my brain chemicals once again reactivated.

below is a sample of that WIP which i am feeding you directly from my stupid little hands ;;

╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡

All draped in black and gold, crystal and white, wearing lavish masks over their eyes, unable to obscure their covetous little stares. Appraising James like he’s one of the cracked marble busts or stolen baroque oil paintings laid out on the lobby floor to be admired, but all too rich for their blood.

Another era, another gilded cage.

James St. Clair, on display again, an objet of virtu presented by yet another man drunk off conditional loyalty and borrowed prestige. Surrounded by vermin that think themselves his followers.

Well. Not untrue.

James tips his crystal drinking glass to his lips, itching to stain the crimson carpeted floors of the Hotel with a much darker red. It would be sooo easy; with a twitch of his fingers, he could turn this stupid masquerade into a massacre. But what he lacks in temperance and humility, he makes up for with patience. So he lets the wine soothe his nerves and sharpen his tongue instead. Biding his time.

Waiting. Always waiting. 

"Are you enjoying yourself, my jewel?" James' current "patron" whispers, close enough to disturb the pendant dangling from his earlobe. A diamond-encrusted silver cross, clamped painfully onto James' ear, since his invulnerability makes piercings impossible to hold. It's not a relic, but like most jewelry designed in his honour, the earring is... troublesome.

"Oh, positively euphoric," James drawls in reply, inspecting the cuticles of his free hand to showcase exactly how much fun he's not having. But his sarcasm is lost on his patron, the dleusional swine, who returns a satisfied hum as he swirls his own champagne glass thoughtfully.

"As you should be. After all, tonight will be the marking of a new era - a new king. And what is a king without his crown jewel?"

Hah. Derision peals out of James' throat before he can swallow it back. How violently laughable. It's like this every fucking time.

But his laughter falters a moment later, as a subtle murmur ripples through the throng of cultists surrounding him. No, not a murmur, no one has stopped talking, not for a second.

Not a flicker, either, the chandelier lights overhead glittering bright, winking starlight into his eyes.

A shiver, then. A sudden drop in temperature that only he seems to feel. And it was so sickeningly hot just a moment ago.

And then --

Found you.

Robbed of his breath and his heartbeat and every thought he's ever had, James lifts his eyes and finds himself pinned, under that dark endless gaze he's felt a thousand times in his dreams.

There, in the crowd, separated by a dozen or so false followers, a pale face looks regards him, shrouded in black lace.

James' lips part by a fraction of a centimeter, and he feels himself about to say. You found me.

The spell remains unbroken, even as James' patron pulls an arm around his waist, announcing his latest conquest to the thrall before him. "A toast--" he says, or maybe he doesn't. James isn't listening. He can't hear a thing.

He swallows back the rest of his wine, untangles himself from the unwanted grip.

"Where do you --"

"Breath of fresh air," he mutters, tearing himself away.

Away, away and up the empire steps to the mezzanine, up the next few floors of the Hotel until he reaches an empty hall, void of false followers and prying eyes. He's vaguely aware that he's shivering hard. Not because his thin white shirt leaves his back exposed. Not because of the wine in his blood.

Absently, he grabs a forgotten coat draped over the bannister, and pulls his arms through. But the shaking does not stop.

In the Hotel, his steps are muted against the carpeted floors. But as pushes through the glass doors leading to the balcony. the ground beneath his boot heels is more solid. Still, he feels as though if he takes another step, he'll fall right through.

Will is waiting for him by the marble-wrought railing, still and beautiful as a sculptor's depiction of Lucifer. God's beloved, fallen.

"You came for me," he breathes, bathed once more in Will's beckoning gaze. With impossible yearning, James reaches out, not with his hands but with his magic, to assure himself this isn't a spectre, a cruel trick, the kind that fate has played on him over and over and over -

"You can come closer,"

A gloved hand reaches toward him. Not begging to touch. Not commanding.

It's too much. James had spent this entire lifetime cultivating a wall of ice and iron around himself, only for it to melt from a single gesture from Will. He practically pours himself into Will's arms, pressing his cheek against his hand.

"I wasn't sure," he sighs, dragging his fingers, his real ones, along Will's armdf;lskdf;lka;lkfsdlkjdf idk to be conitniutend ?????? bY e

[hogwartsthenextgeneration]

Albus’ Sorting

(This is the first time I’ve ever wrote something so any tips would be great)

As the first years entered the great hall James was scanning the heads of every student trying to find his brother. He felt guilty for teasing him about going into Slytherin, he didn’t really care what house he got sorted into (although Gryffindor was obviously his first choice). He only realised how much it affected Albus when they were on the platform and James was too awkward to apologise. He continued to look at the crowd and finally spotted him near the back with Rose. He looked terrified.

Albus’ heart was practically beating out of his chest. Rose was trying to comfort him but he couldn’t hear her, everything was muffled and he felt like he could hardly breathe. He knew James was joking when he said he was getting sorted into Slytherin but what if? What if he gets sorted into Slytherin and everyone hates him. No, that wouldn’t happen surely, Molly and Dom were already in Slytherin. But they made sense, they’re confident and cool and don’t care what other people think. Albus was going through his speech in his head about not being in Slytherin when all of a sudden Rose nudged him. Shit.

McGonagall repeated “Albus Potter”. The students erupted into chatter when they heard the name and stared intensely as Al walked up to the stool and took his seat, just as they did when James was about to be sorted. To them it was exciting to see a Potter get sorted. To James and Albus and later on, Lily, it was the most nerve wracking moment of their lives. The hat had been debating for just over a minute when suddenly it announced “SLYTHERIN”.

Albus thought he was about to pass out. Or throw up. Or cry. Or all the above. The speech he had gone over a thousand times in his head didn’t work. Was the hat not meant to take your choice into consideration? That’s what his dad said to him. This was his nightmare and to top it all off everyone was staring at him.

Stunned silence filled the room, James could have heard a pin drop, Albus was frozen in place and was white as a ghost. It wasn’t Slytherin that stunned the Wotter cousins, there were already 2 who had been sorted into that house, it was the fact that Albus, the most gentle, timid, easy going person had been sorted into it. Most expected Gryffindor with him being a Potter, some thought it could be Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw, but, never Slytherin. As Albus stood up, legs visibly shaking, James also stood up. Everyone was looking between them, the majority of students knowing how proud James was of being a Gryffindor, holding their breath. Suddenly James erupted into applause, the biggest smile on his face and soon all the other cousins followed suit. Albus visibly relaxed and followed Molly (the first cousin to be sorted into Slytherin), who had walked up to the front of the hall to retrieve him in the end. Albus sat down and the boy to his right introduced himself, “hi, I’m Scorpius, don’t worry, I was really scared too…”

[1-800-teax]

The Dora’s

TFATWS Drabble

Avenger!Reader

Wakandan!Reader

Loki x Reader

A/N : I wanted to do a Wakandan!Reader Imagine for a while, so here it is! Expect more and better ones, this is just something I had in my drafts for a while.

-*-*-*-*-

Y/n’s POV:

The sound of a spear colliding with concrete catches my attention, I take it as my cue and I walk inside with Ayo and another Dora at my sides.

The sound of my heels banging against the floors, as well as the spears of the Dora’s catches the attention of everyone in the room.

My face is mixed of annoyance and sternness as I focus my gaze straight on Bucky, paying no mind to John Walker.

"He's coming with us." I announce in Xhosa.

"Even if he is a means to your end. Time's up." Ayo follows up.

"Y/n-" Bucky starts, when I cut him off.

"James." I reply sternly, turning my focus on John Walker who starts to introduce himself.

"Hi, John Walker. Captain America." John says holding a hand out for me to shake.

I stare into his hopeful eyes for a second, holding in my piling emotions before releasing a quiet scoff, accompanied by a roll of my eyes as I walk past him towards the couch.

The hairs on the back of my neck stand up as I feel everyone’s eyes trail after me.

I sit, crossing my legs, watching as everything unfolds.

"Well, let's uh let's put down the pointy sticks and we can talk this through." John says turning back towards Ayo.

"Hey, John take it easy. You might wanna fight Bucky before you tangle with the Dora Milaje." Sam warns him, taking a quick glance at me at the end.

"The Dora Milaje have no jurisdiction here." John says to Ayo.

"The Dora Milaje has jurisdiction where ever the Dora Milaje find themselves to be." Ayo fires back which causes me to smirk.

"Okay. Look I think we got on the wrong foot-" John starts to say as he places his hand on Ayo's shoulder.

Big mistake.

Ayo hits John with her spear making him imediately fall to the ground.

I let out an amused sigh before getting up and moving towards Bucky who is seated at the bar.

"No Loki?" he asks.

"This is something I had to do on my own, for my country. This has nothing to do with him." I say watching the Dora Milaje continue to fight John and his partner.

From my peripheral, I see him nod his head absentmindedly.

Bucky releases a sigh before getting up, leading us towards where Sam is stood watching the fight.

"We should do something." Sam says to Bucky.

"Why? They're just having fun." I comment with a grin.

"Looking strong, John." Bucky encourages John, sarcastically. Which has me releasing a light giggle.

"Bucky." Sam says warningly.

Just as Ayo was about to impale John, Bucky intervenes by grabbing a hold of her spear resulting in them starting to fight.

I watch as everything unfolds before me with a bored expression on my face.

"Amelia!" Sam shouts grabbing my attention.

I let out a fustrated sigh before grabbing a spear from a Dora and throwing it so the sheild is pinned to the table with John Walker, attached to it.

John looks at me shocked and I just give him an irrated look in return.

I turn to see Ayo removing Bucky's metal arm.

Bucky looks at her then at me but I quickly turn away not wanting to see the look on his face.

Ayo says something to Bucky that I didn't quite catch before walking towards the bathroom and opening it up.

John gets his hand free and the Dora gets her spear making the sheild fall to the floor.

I slam my foot on it and caught it in my hand the way Steve taught me to.

"He's gone. Leave it." Ayo says.

I give John one last hard look before shoving the sheild onto the table and giving it on last look.

I look at Ayo and nudge my head to the door to signal 'I'll be there in a minute'.

She subtly nods and her and the Dora's left.

"Did you know they could do that?" Sam asks Bucky as he gets up off the floor.

"No." Bucky says placing it back on and adjusting it.

I walk towards them and hit Bucky upside his head before punching Sam on his bicep.

Both of them say "Ow." and groan.

"I can't believe the both of you." I lecture while resting my hands on my hips..

I let out a sigh before turning around to look at John and his partner.

"They weren't even super soldier." he says in disbelief while dazed.

"Damn right." I say sassily before walking out.

I walk towards the Royal Talon Fighter.

Ayo gives me a look and I give her a reasurring nod.

She looks away and starts to take us back home to Wakanda.

[isimpfortoomanypeople]

I have a request. Steve Harrington x hargrove reader, billy and yn are twins,. They have a good relationship. Yn is on the track team and practice for basketball is later. Yn x Steve flirting and billy interrupting and death glaring or threatening Steve and then yn being the badass she is is like the fuck not and kisses steve in front of billy. Billy won't hurt yn and he knows if he punches Steve she would murder him.

Tag me plz if you do it

Hi, I love this request and I’m definitely down for Y/N being a badass. This is my first Steve fic and I’m honestly shocked that this didn’t happen sooner.

Stay the hell away from my sister- Steve Harrington x female Hargrove reader

A/N: I may have gotten what year that Billy joins Hawkins high wrong but I’m from the U.K. so American high school years confused me. Also I know this is a picture from Steve from season 4 but yellow is his colour. Apologises for all spelling and grammatical mistakes as I’m super dyslexic, enjoy.

Warnings: alcohol, Billy being extremely over protective (the reader and him are fraternal twins to suits all readers) and the reader and steve make out but it’s steamy so 18+

Part 2

Being the new kid was never easy, especially when you joined in your junior year. Meaning that everyone has formed their own cliques and groups ect. Which means that you’ll feel like an outcast for a while till you find your feet, just hoping that there was a track team so you could run off your anxiety.

In California you and your twin were almost masters at the athletic field, you took to track loving the feeling of the wind flowing through your hair, the fast rhythmic beats of your feet on the ground matching the beating of your heart. Running so fast that you could run away from all of your problems, watching as they grew small and faded into the horizon behind your body. Running felt freeing, if nothing else in life you had running and maybe being the new girl might be okay?

You lent against the cooling window of your brother’s car, allowing the cold glass to relieve your pounding tension headache.

“What’s wrong?”

“What?”

“Seriously Y/N, you keep on looking out of the window looking like shit. It’s fucking terrifying”

You scoffed and flipped your brother the bird, he smirked looking very amused by his insult, but hey what are siblings for if not to sometimes irritate the shit out of you?

“Look” you sighed fiddling with the cuffs of your sweater that had a vibrant green trims across the cuffs and the neckline. The way this town practically worshiped this high school was nauseating.

“I’m just nervous about starting a new school, we’re joining junior year, they’re all going to have their own friends by now and I’ll just be the weird new girl”

“You’ll be fine” Billy shrugged, placing his lit cigarette to his lips. He loved you dearly and you were the only family (well the only family that matters) he had left. Billy just has a hard time showing an ounce of sympathy, he was the sort of brother who would rather sort out what ever problem you had with his fists, so when you had issues that couldn’t be solved by knocking some asshole down he tried to say whatever sounded the most sympathetic in his mind, which mostly came off as awkward and a little cold. But you both had each other’s backs and the one who you could confine in.

“Easy for you to say” you muttered under your breath too quite for him to hear

Life is easy when you’re practically treated like royalty, Billy had a talent of automatically becoming popular no matter where he walked. It’s easy to achieve when you’re captain of the basketball team, when you’re conventionally attractive and all girls and boys will practically throw themselves down at your feet. That’s how it was in California, no doubt it’ll be the same in Hawkins too.

——————————————————————————-

High school was just about how you’d expect it to be, awkwardly standing at the front of the class while the teachers make some big announcement about you. Staring at the sea of eyes that was pinned upon you, you felt like you was under a microscope, as each pair of eyes focusing upon you making their own judgment about you before even asking you a single question. God you hated this!

You sat at the back of the classroom where the only free seat was available, just thankful that it wasn’t at the front of the class so you could also avoid all questions that the teacher would probably throw towards your direction, asking you about the previous education you had been receiving in California.

Slumping down in your desk, you open the text book the teacher gave you hoping that it would create a shield, protecting yourself from the pairs of eyes still glued upon you.

“We’re on page 34 by the way”

You lifted your face from being buried within the pages, to see a handsome boy with soft brunette hair smiling at you. There was something in the way that he smiled at you that set your heart a flame, he looked at you like he had never seen anyone as beautiful.

“Thanks”

“I’m Steve” he lifted his hand towards you

“Y/N” you smiled back at him, shaking his hand. Biting your cheek to stop the blush that was threatening to flood across the apples of your cheeks.

——————————————————————————

“Earth to Y/N!” Billy grumbled clicking his fingers in front of your face, bringing you out of your loving gaze towards the Harrington boy who sat one table away from you. God you were such an idiot, you barely even know him

“Sorry what were you saying?” You awkwardly chuckled moving the grey coloured mashed potatoes around your tray, providing cafeteria food in Hawkins was beyond edible.

“I was saying that Tina is hosting a party this Friday and we’re going” Billy responded , shooting death glares towards this ‘king’ Steve that he’s heard so fucking much about, enough to know that he is bad news. This Steve was a dick, well at least according to Billy, and he should stay the hell away from his baby sister (he was literally 10 minutes older than you). Steve caught one of these stares and quickly diverted his gaze to his lunch tray, Billy assumed that Steve got the message to stay away from you, but oh how wrong he was.

——————————————————————————

“Y/N wait” you turned your head to see that attractive brunette boy that you quickly developed a crush on. You let out a small squeal of joy as you saw him running up to you. Screw subtlety, you were too infatuated with him to care.

“Hey what’s up?”

“I wanted to ask if you and Billy were a thing?” He asked awkwardly, praying that the response would be “no” so then he could take you out on a date. But the way Billy was glaring at him earlier today made him doubtful.

You screwed your brows and tilted your head to the side, looking at him completely dumbfounded. Is he for real?

Seeing his smile twitching with nerves made you howl out in laughter, while he stood awkwardly confused at your sudden outburst. Did he say something wrong?

“Ewww, no me and Billy are not dating . He’s my twin brother” you spoke in between fits of laugher.

“Oh” his face turning into a deep scarlet hue over his own embarrassment, he rubbed the back of his arm as he avoided your gaze. “You two don’t look alike”

“That’s because we’re fraternal twins you idiot” you cried out with laughter still not over his mistake. He was an idiot but god was he a cute one, it was adorable seeing how red he was going and the way he bit his lip made you want to melt into a puddle on the floor.

“Well does that mean your free to go on a date with me this Wednesday?” He asked, his voice still a little shaky with the remainder of his embarrassment. God he was never going to live this one down.

“I would love to” you smirked, feeling your own cheeks heat up into a blush. You were trying your damned hardest to be flirtatious but you were failing miserably, as right now you were a giddy mess of a person.

“Great I’ll pick you up at 6” he smiled back, his eyes adoringly looking into yours. Steve must admit he loved seeing how much of an effect he had on you, it showed him that you felt the same way as he did, absolutely smitten.

“Harrington stay the fuck away from my sister!” You heard Billy’s growl echo throughout the corridor.

Billy looked like the definition of rage, he charged down the hall like an angered bull. You could practically see the steam coming out of his ears.

“Billy calm down” you rolled your eyes at your brother’s overprotective nature, this always happens and you were sick of it. Billy had a habit of chasing every boy you’ve ever had an interest in away, at this point you thought that you’d be single forever with the amount of guys he scared away. Yes it shows that he cares for you and only wants the best for you, but you’re in high school now and are old enough to make your own decisions.

“I’m not going to calm down! Harrington if you know what’s good for you, you’re going to stay the hell away from my sister” he aggressively spoke, his finger poking Steve’s chest making his point clear. He narrowed his eyes at Steve, watching as he shakily nodded his head. “Good!”

——————————————————————————

“What the hell was that!” You yelled as soon as you slammed the car door “why do you have to scare off every single guy who shows the slightest interest in me”

“Excuse me for being a good brother. Steve is an asshole-“

“No he isn’t, you barely know him-“

“Neither do you!” Billy yelled back. He glanced over towards your direction seeing your dejected look, turning your body away from him. He swallowed down his remaining anger, he didn’t want this to end in a screaming match for he did care about you. “Look I’m just looking out for you okay?”

You huffed in response not even caring to look at him. You gave him the silent treatment for the remainder of the journey, god you hated him at times

——————————————————————————-

You huffed collapsing on your mattress, your body weight melting into the soft springy fabric below. If you could scream you would, releasing all the pent up anger which had been brewing for days. Billy hovered over you at every moment he could, acting as if he was your own shadow, which resulted in Steve staying the far away from you.

Every time you aired your frustrations to Billy about his aggravating behaviour he just pushed you off, saying that this is what all good brothers do. And Steve and Billy were nauseating to watch as they had this idiotic tendency to out do each other, the clash of wounded masculinities was irritating to observe. Don’t even start about their pathetic little scuff they had on the basketball court, how childish could they be? You felt like an object rather than a human after seeing the way those two fought over you.

If it wasn’t for your irritating brother you could of been on a date tonight, but no Billy had to intervene and stick his nose where it wasn’t wanted. You were brought out of your thoughts by a gentle tapping at your window

You turned to see no other than Steve Harrington, the only one who you wished to see tonight. Turns out that your prayers have been answered

“Are you crazy? What are you doing here?” You giggled opening the window

“We had a date planned, I would never stood you up darling” he grinned, carefully climbing through the opened window, trying not to make too much noise or to drop the pizza box that was balancing on his arm.

“This isn’t what I had planned, I was going to take you to this nice restaurant before we went to the movies. But I suppose pizza will do” he placed himself on your bed, opening the cardboard box.

“I thought that you weren’t coming”

“Are you serious? There was no way I wasn’t coming tonight-“

“But Billy will kill you if he catches us-“

“And so what if he does, you’re worth dying for” he flirted giving you a wink, silently chuckling to himself as he saw your face glow red. God he was infatuated with you, he never thought he could have ever met anyone as beautiful as you. It was as if the gods handcrafted yourself for him. Steve never did believe in love at first sight but the moment he saw you walk through the classroom door, his heart skipped a beat making him believe that the cringey saying was true.

“So tell me about California?” He smiled leaning on his arms, his body angled closer towards yours. The empty pizza box laid at the bottom of your bed, while your bodies laid so close that they almost intertwined.

“It’s beautiful, I miss it already. They had crystal clear waters where my mom used to teach us how to surf, honestly nothing could be better than feeling the sun warming your skin surfing on these high cool ocean waves”

Steve leant closer into you that your faces were merely inches away from each other. Steve was addicted to your voice, the way that you spoke each word sounded heavenly like the greatest symphony known to man. He loved how your face lit up as you spoke about the good times, like you painted the perfect picture and he was transported to California with you.

You felt his breath fanning your face, you cupped his cheeks bringing his lips upon yours. It was sweet and gentle to begin with, but the hunger you felt for him was too great to be ignored. You picked up the pace as your lips fought for dominance against his. He held you closer to him as his tongue explored your mouth. His hands made their way up your shirt, moaning as his cold hands roamed your body.

—————————————————————————-

You threw back whatever was in that shot that Billy handed you, you could of sworn it was gasoline with its bitter acrid taste. Billy left you all alone in the kitchen as he was rushed off to prove his masculinity in some stupid game which involves drinking a whole keg of beer. Sometimes you questioned the maturity of your classmates.

“Hey darling”

You jumped as you felt a pair of hands snake their way across your waist. You jumped over the sudden voice down your ear and the unexpected contact.

“Jesus Steve! Don’t do that, you could of given me a heart attack” you scolded him, lightly slapping his arm. Taking a deep breath to slower your racing heart.

“Sorry darling, it’s just that you look so good tonight I couldn’t keep my hands off you” he smirked as his eyes scanned over your body. You truly were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

You shuddered as you felt his lips kissing your neck, leaning back into his embrace to allow his lips more access to the area of skin. You closed your eyes melting away into this blissful lustful state you were in, allowing the outside world to slip away-

“Steve!”

You snapped open your eyes to see Billy glaring furiously into Steve’s eyes, you could see his nostrils flaring, he looked like he was going to combust into flames at any moment.

You were pushed out of Steve’s arms as Steve was pinned to the wall by your brother. He held the collar of Steve’s shirt with a vice like grip forcing him to look at Billy dead in the eyes.

“I told you to stay away from her!”

“Let him go!” You screamed at Billy, he was in a state of shock upon hearing your voice booming across the empty kitchen walls, that he let Steve go.

You walked up to Steve who looked disheveled and also in shock both from Billy anger but also from you sticking up for him.

You put both boys in an utter state of shock by crashing your lips upon Steve’s, his lips moved against yours returning the feverish kiss.

When you broke apart you saw Billy’s eyes wide with shock, still unable to process what the fuck just happened.

“If you dare to lay a finger upon Steve again, I will kill you myself is that understood?”

Billy quickly nodded his head which was still hazy in disbelief and also the beer which was starting to come into effect. He knows you and knows that you most probably will act upon that threat. Maybe he was being a little too overprotective?, he was your brother and he loved you deeply, even if he may never like Steve he’ll begrudgingly put up with him for your sake.

“Good, now Steve I think that you owe me a dance”

A/N: thank you so much again for this request I loved writing it, I hope that you enjoyed it as much as I did. Requests are still open

@manyfandomsfanvergent

[bloompompom]

Puzzles - Chapter 12

Completed, multi-chapter fic (12/24)

Pairing: eren jaeger x female reader

Want to start from the beginning? Find Chapter 1 here.

Word count: ~5.9k

Chapter summary: who knew that baking brownies could turn into something more?

Content warnings throughout this fic: explicit sexual content, explicit language, alcohol/drug use. reader discretion advised.

“Hey! Can we make these?”

You could hardly make out what Eren had said. His voice was muffled by a shuffling sound – presumably him rummaging through your cupboards like a raccoon.

It had only been a handful of minutes since he announced he was leaving to look for a snack. By the time you found him in your kitchen, he was surrounded by nearly the entire contents of your cabinets that now littered your counters.

Your eyes scanned over the mess. When you huffed through your nose, Eren peeked over his shoulder. He wore a small smile, his eyes practically sparkling as he waited for your response. He looked absolutely oblivious to the situation around him. He was much more interested in the box of brownie mix in his hand.

Only god knows how long that has been in there.

“Go ahead,” you said. You used your foot to point out the cabinet near his leg, just under the sink. “Baking stuff’s in there.”

You turned to walk back to your bedroom. It wasn’t even a second later that Eren’s voice called out for a second time. “Wait! I don’t know what I’m doing.”

You sighed again and stopped to face him once more. His expression was sweetened, puppy-like eyes pleading with you. You could only begin to guess how many times that very look has worked for him in the past.

“I thought we could make them together.” His voice was coated in honey, and you were positive that had worked for him in the past, too.

Feeling particularly grumpy, you said, “You just want me to make them for you, don’t you?”

“That would be awfully nice of you.”

You made a ‘tsk’ sound, and he snickered at the stinging glare you threw his way. “Eren, I told you that if you came over, I was just going to be finishing up some chores. I’ve been neglecting my laundry for so long.”

Without missing a beat (when has he ever missed a beat?), he teasingly said, “But you’ve been neglecting me for so long.”

He neared you in just a few steps. With your hips now between his hands, he gently pinned you against the wooden frame of your doorway. You noticed the glimmer was back in his eyes. It told you that he was way more fun than whatever laundry awaited you in your bedroom. But that was already obvious, wasn’t it?

“I’ve neglected you for all of five minutes, and now it’s like a tornado wiped through my kitchen,” you said.

Some context might be helpful at this point. For starters, it has been a little over a week – maybe two – since the infamous night spent in Sasha’s living room (you still needed to decide on a name for that night). Since then, the time you spent with Eren had grown increasingly.… domestic? That may not be the right word for it, but it fits.

It was strange, in a way, how effortlessly the two of you reverted to your comfortable routine of spending time together. More than that, it was like you had fully swung into a lifestyle of just being with one another. Not in a relationship, just being.

Maybe it was because you were so vulnerable with him at Sasha’s. Compared to that night, everything else just felt easy.

Still, you couldn’t deny that there was restlessness within your odd relationship. It lurked just below the surface. Behind every spoken word, there was a hint of desperation for more than just typical everyday conversation.

It was that desire that acted as the catalyst for every touch. Every nudge, every caress – they were never careless. You could pretend all you wanted that they were thoughtless, but each was painfully and meticulously deliberate. And somehow, every one of them lasted longer and felt more intimate than the last.

Honestly, it was similar to how Eren continued to hold you just now, his arms wrapped around your waist, that look on his face that you just couldn’t find the words to describe. All you knew was how it made you feel, and you felt wonderful.

It reminded you of the time you first saw him after the party – the day he found you and Sasha at the coffee shop. What did you say again? You thought he looked a bit like a villain, with those dark features and devilish grin. But that look in his eyes, the same look he was giving you right now, was starkly different from his appearance. He had the softest eyes when he looked at you, eyes that made you feel like the light at the end of whatever tunnel he found himself stuck in all this time.

Sure, maybe you were all wrapped up in those sickeningly sweet emotions again. And yes, it was beginning to sound like that lovestruck poet had crept back into your thoughts. But you couldn’t help it.

You described the feeling as disarming, like you wanted to throw all your weapons to the floor and toss yourself into him. Ever since that day at the coffee shop, your armor had been tossed aside piece by piece. And while you weren’t exactly sure what all of this meant, for now, you were purely enjoying the feeling his company gave you.

“I can help with your laundry,” Eren said. “It’ll get done faster that way.”

You silently agreed by leading him back to your bedroom. You were greeted by the ugly sight of the overflowing laundry basket on your bed. There was a pitiful stack of folded clothing beside it. It looked like nothing compared to the piles and piles left to be put away.

“Jeez, you have been neglecting it,” Eren said.

You chose to ignore his comment and began sifting through the basket for some loose tees. “Do you mind hanging these up for me?”

Eren took the shirts from you with a quick nod before heading to your closet.

Only a few minutes had passed before he was back at your side. He impatiently waited for his next task, the thought of brownies still consuming his mind. Regretfully, you ignored him. You kept your back turned for just long enough for him to find work on his own.

“Ooh, who do you wear these for?”

It didn’t even take you a millisecond to recognize his distinctly wicked and boyish tone. Your head whipped around at a dizzying speed. Your eyes lit on fire at the stupidly gleeful expression on his face.

He was proudly holding up a pair of your underwear. It wasn’t just your average pair of underwear, either. The skimpy, red lace was pulled taut between his two index fingers as he stretched them out to admire them.

You gasped and shot your hand out to steal them. “No one!” Eren dodged your hand, and you snapped, “I told you: I was low on laundry. They were a last resort.”

“Can you wear them for me?” he teasingly asked. You wanted to tear the cheeky grin off his face.

You finally snatched the underwear from him. You balled the delicate fabric in your fist and shoved it into the very depths of your drawer. “Not if you keep this up.”

Eren poked fun at you incessantly about the underwear until you finished putting away the last of your laundry. If the jokes weren’t at your expense, you would have maybe – maybe – admitted that the sheer amount of puns was a bit impressive.

You paced out of the bedroom. You were hot with a mixture of frustration and embarrassment. If you didn’t know any better, you could have sworn there was steam fuming from your ears.

Eren followed closely behind you. “Aw, c’mon. What’s got your panties in a twist?”

You spun around on the heels of your feet and shot him a cautionary look. He threw his head back and clutched his chest in laughter. The vexed expression that you wore was just oh-so endearing. You were just about as scary as a little bunny rabbit.

“That was the last one. I promise,” Eren said.

You placed your hands on your hips. “Just for that, I’m not going to make those brownies for you.”

“Not fair.”

You sat down at your kitchen table without another word, leaning back in the chair and folding one arm over the other. Your glare was filled with feigned disinterest as you watched Eren gather the baking supplies. He placed a large mixing bowl on the counter before looking for a spoon.

“Are you really not going to help me?” He asked while he searched through a few drawers.

“Yup.” You added extra emphasis by popping the ‘p’ at the end. You started to play sound on your phone, only looking up with a smirk whenever Eren would dramatically sigh.

You heard the refrigerator door open and shut. Eren appeared from behind it with a carton of eggs in his hand. The boastful grin on his face concerned you. “Want to see me crack an egg with one hand?”

“I thought you didn’t know how to bake?”

He selected an egg from the carton and carefully held it between his fingers. He wiggled his eyebrows at you with excitement. “I don’t.”

He attempted to squeeze the egg with just his fingertips, but it crushed quickly within his grip. All of the contents of the egg plopped into the bowl. Much to Eren’s dismay, this included all of the eggshells.

“Damn it,” he muttered.

You softly giggled as he stared into the bowl with a frown. He started to pick out the remnants of the shell, his tongue poking out from behind his lips in concentration.

You were unable to go another second without intervening on the pathetic sight before you. You walked over and slid the bowl in front of you. Removing all of the shards was much easier with your smaller fingers.

“I knew you couldn’t resist helping me,” he said.

“You want these brownies to be edible, don’t you?”

You didn’t bother returning the bowl once you removed as much of the shell as possible. Eren quietly watched while you finished combining the ingredients, taking a step back to not stand in your way. He offered to help when it was time to transfer the batter to the pan. You held onto the mixing bowl, and he scraped the rich better from its sides.

“See? You kind of know what you’re doing,” you said.

He frowned for a second time. “I’ll have you know I used to bake with my mom back when I was a kid.”

Something about the thought of him baking with his mother warmed your heart. You imagined the happy-go-lucky kid you saw in his childhood photos. You could see him sitting on their kitchen counter, fumbling around with all the ingredients, trying his best to help his mother. There would probably be a snowfall of flour that coated the kitchen by the end of it.

“Is that why you wanted me to bake with you?” you asked. You didn’t know why you asked. Maybe it was too personal of an assumption to make, but you wondered if he liked the familiarity of it all.

“I dunno,” Eren said. He kept his attention fixed on scraping the batter from the bowl. His lip twitched just a hint, and you tried to read into it. You weren’t sure if he was holding back a smile or if you had made him unnerved. “Maybe. Just sounded nice.”

He finished pouring all of the mixture into the pan. You placed it into the preheated oven and set the timer. When you turned around again, you found Eren unsurprisingly licking the mixing spoon. He leaned against the edge of the counter, seemingly enjoying himself without a single thought in his head.

It didn’t take long for him to notice your judgy eyes on him. “What? It’s the best part.”

“Exactly,” you said, starting to walk toward him. “And it would have been nice for you to share. You know, since I did all the work.”

You reached for the spoon. Eren predicted the move and evaded your hand. “Hey, I cracked the egg, remember?”

He swiped his finger across the spoon and gathered a dollop of batter on his fingertip. Before you reacted, he left a trail of gooey batter along your nose.

You wiped it off with the back of your wrist. A childlike exuberance wound you up, a large smile now taking shape on your face. You tried to snatch the spoon from Eren once more, and he held his arm above his head. You jumped to grab it and were successful this time. Quickly, you smeared what remained of the batter into your dominant hand.

“Don’t do it,” Eren warned as he pointed at you. He wore a smile that could only be described as playfully worried. He slowly started to inch his way past you.

You set the spoon down and prowled toward him. He darted out of the kitchen only for you to chase after him, your booms of laughter filling the small apartment. You threw your arms around him, one wrapping around his shoulder and across his chest. You nearly tackled him to the floor before your other hand smudged the batter across his cheek.

Eren amusedly huffed in defeat once you dropped from his back. He touched his face and looked down at the chocolate that transferred onto his fingers.

He shook his head at you, popping his fingers into his mouth to clean them. With a chuckle, he said, “Alright, alright. I’ve learned my lesson. You get to lick the spoon from now on.”

Eren went to the bathroom to clean up, and you headed to the kitchen to do the same. The faucet ran cold water over your hands. It helped your body snap back to reality and settle from the excitement. You were only left with a sensation in your stomach. You weren’t sure what it was, but it felt tingly and hot and, despite how it sounded, it wasn’t uncomfortable. Not even a bit. You wanted nothing more than for the feeling to stay.

You found Eren on your couch. The tingly, hot feeling now felt like a fire, burning brighter just like you wanted. He looked like he belonged there, like the holy grail you found after weeks of thrifting – the final piece that really tied the room together.

The feeling continued to pull at you until you were on the couch beside him. It had you by the reigns and steered you toward him. You wanted to touch him, feel the reaction that it gave you. The need wasn’t sexual in the slightest. It was something else. Something you were unable to name just yet.

You laid your head onto his lap like it wasn’t out of the ordinary, and he didn’t make a big deal of it like it wasn’t out of the ordinary.

He ran his fingers through your hair, then caressed your cheek. You could smell your vanilla-lavender soap on his fingers. You closed your eyes, wrapped up in him like he was the softest blanket in the world.

Eren continued to look down at you, and his heart swelled. A small smile tugged at his lips. It was simple moments like this that he wanted to last forever.

He debated placing a kiss on your forehead, but his mind was quickly overtaken by the voices in his head. Some begged him to take the initiative and let his actions show you exactly how he felt about you. The other voices were biting and harsh, telling him that he was just going to ruin the moment, inevitably ruining you.

You opened your eyes before he had time to decide. You picked his hand up from your cheek and held it in front of your face. You studied each of the grooves and veins of his hand, tenderly manipulating it into different positions. You traced your fingers up and down his own, noticing a couple of healed cuts around his nails. You wouldn’t have pinned him as someone who anxiously picked at his fingers.

You continued to toy with his hand while you allowed your thoughts to wander. After a couple of comfortable minutes of silence passed, you asked, “Is there anything that you want for your birthday?”

“Does this mean you’re coming on the trip?”

You shifted your attention from Eren’s hand and met his eyes. Your lips curved into a pout. “That didn’t answer my question.”

“You didn’t answer mine,” he said. He let out a half chuckle at the displeased look you gave him. “If you come on the trip then you don’t have to worry about getting me anything.”

You were reminded of the conversation you had with Sasha, how you would inevitably create quite the mess if you joined. You asked, “And if I don’t?”

“Then I at least deserve a cake. No eggshells this time.” He paused and leaned forward. He looked directly into your eyes, and the lighthearted tone of his voice vanished. It was replaced by something milder, maybe even slightly concerned. “You’re coming though, right?”

It would feel wrong to miss out on celebrating Eren’s birthday. You decided you would tag along well before this conversation, but he didn’t need to know that quite yet. You weren’t above stooping to his level, so you gave in to the temptation to tease him just a bit longer.

You hummed in thought, pretending to mull over his question. You finally said, “Can’t say. It’s supposed to be a surprise, after all.” A mischievous grin consumed your face as you finished your sentence. Eren lightly bucked his leg to make your head bounce against his lap with a small thump. You chuckled. “I’m coming. Don’t worry.”

“Good.”

You let go of Eren’s hand once you were unable to concentrate. Your eyes were glued on his, scanning them to see if your answer lay within his irises. People don’t call them the windows into the soul for nothing, right?

Each of your thoughts was like a puzzle piece, and you were scrambling to find the big picture. It felt like the one puzzle that you just couldn’t seem to solve, no matter how many ways you twisted and turned the pieces.

All of the stolen kisses. The flirtatious banter. The sweet words. Even the easy days like today where you would laugh together until it stung.

As you slid around each puzzle piece, it was all starting to make sense. But you couldn’t withstand the nagging feeling any longer. Something was missing.

Sure, moments like this were great, when you found yourselves wrapped up in each other’s touches, your head in his lap, his fingers aimlessly running through your hair. Why was it that all of these instances were so fleeting?

You would kiss Eren with more passion than you could ever imagine, then in the blink of an eye, it was like it never happened. No, it was worse than that. The two of you still hadn’t addressed the situation at Sasha’s house. Hell, this man was literally between your legs, and you both still failed to muster up the courage to say what was on your minds.

Eren’s eyes said nothing. Windows to absolutely nowhere. They looked warm at first, but now he looked like he was getting freaked out. He brought his hand up like he was trying to figure out if there was something on his face that had your attention.

You pushed yourself into an upright position on the couch. You swiveled to face Eren, sitting cross-legged with your knees pressed into his leg.

You just needed another piece of the puzzle, that’s all.

Slowly, you opened your mouth to speak. The first syllable didn’t even leave your throat before there was a pounding at your front door. It startled you, but your fright was soon tamed by the bit of relief that washed over you. Saved by the bell.

“Were you expecting someone?” Eren asked. He looked past you and over to the door.

You got up from the couch. “Yeah. Sorry. I forgot to mention that Sasha and Connie were swinging by on their way to the roller rink. Sasha asked to borrow my skates.”

“You roller skate?” Eren was trying his best not to laugh when the image of you attempting to skate filled his mind.

“Used to,” you said, deciding to ignore the disbelief in his voice.

You stood on your tip-toes to see through the peephole. Connie’s and Sasha’s warped faces were squished together like a couple of marshmallows. You could hear them chant, “Let us in, let us in” once you started to unlock the door.

“Now that I gotta see,” Eren said. Another comment you chose to blow off.

You opened the door wide enough for your two friends. They just about tumbled inside since their bodies had been pressed against the door. They clung to each other in support before catching themselves.

“Took you long enough,” Connie said. He stood tall in the middle of the room and straightened out his hoodie. “Were you guys making out or something?”

“No!” you said. Though it was the truth, the mortified look on your face told Connie an entirely different story. You glanced at Eren for any backup, but he looked entirely unphased, arms casually folded behind his head as he rested on the couch.

“Mmm.” Sasha sounded like she was nearly drooling. She angled her nose higher, sniffing in such a theatrical way that she looked like a caricature of herself. “Are you making brownies?”

“Damn, Jaeger. I didn’t think you were the type,” Connie said.

“Type?” Eren asked.

Connie’s face contorted into a shit-eating smirk. “The submissive househusband type.”

Eren didn’t look so relaxed anymore (served him right). You noticed the creases on his forehead take shape as he scowled. He looked like he was about to jump from the couch and strangle his friend.

You didn’t give either of them the chance to say another word. “Rollerskates, right?” You started to shuffle to your bedroom, taking backward steps so as to not look away. Not until you were sure a fight wasn’t going to break loose in your apartment. It had thin walls, after all. “I’ll go grab them.”

With that, you twirled around and scurried away to the privacy of your bedroom. You shut the door behind you so you could catch your breath. It wasn’t Connie and Eren that bothered you that much. Your heart was still pounding from that conversation you almost had with Eren. You didn’t even know what you were going to say, yet you were just going to let whatever felt right pour out of you like a fire hose.

The skates were probably in the back of your closet. You got down on your hands and knees to dig for them in the very back corner, burrowing through your forgotten knick-knacks. The longer you took to find them, the better. You figured you could use this time to look for the rollerskates, along with whatever words that would make this conversation with Eren as smooth as possible. If that was even possible. And that was a big ‘if.’

Back in the living room, no one said anything. Sasha shifted her weight between her feet, humming to herself as she looked between her friends. Connie was still full of giggles, entirely amused with himself for successfully getting under Eren’s skin in less than thirty seconds.

Eren appeared like Connie was still swarming around in his head. His face was expressionless, the look of someone you wouldn’t even want to tap with a ten-foot pole. Anyone else would know to leave him be, but Sasha couldn’t resist picking up that pole and poking the bear. Maybe she had a death wish, or maybe she just knew she was leaving your apartment in the next few minutes.

“So,” she started to say with her head cocked to the side. There was a snarky grin taking hold of her face. “When am I going to see my best friend again, huh, Eren? You’ve been hogging up all of her time.”

Eren didn’t bother to answer. The last thing he wanted was to get an earful of nonsense from the two bumbling idiots he called friends. Mikasa and Armin were one thing, but Sasha and Connie never failed to take things to another level.

They observed how Eren’s face dropped with annoyance. It was almost enough to pull a wicked cackle from them.

“Yeah,” Connie instigated further. He leisurely threw himself onto the armchair that sat adjacent to your couch. “Are you guys finally gonna get together or what?”

“What do–” Eren started.

“Don’t play dumb with us.” Connie didn’t hesitate to cut off Eren. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. The waggling of his eyebrows only pestered Eren further. “You look like the goddamn heart eyes emoji when she’s around.”

Eren’s eyes narrowed like he didn’t know what Connie meant by that, though it was rather obvious. He had enough of his own spews of confessions, and he wasn’t going to let Connie and Sasha get another from him. He sucked his lip in between his teeth.

Connie loved it. He was high off his own power trip of finally shutting Eren up. He ate it up and wasn’t going to leave a single crumb.

“Pitiful, little Eren,” Connie said. He dramatically draped his hand over his forehead and lounged over the armrest. He played up his best damsel-in-distress expression, pouting his lips and all. “Could it be that he actually had emotions this whole time?”

Sasha observed the way Eren’s jaw clenched. He shut his eyes, and she could practically see that he was counting to ten in his head for a breather. Surely, he wouldn’t get this bent out of shape if Connie’s accusations weren’t true.

Then it clicked.

She pointed at Eren. Her finger was sharp as a dagger, ready to cut the truth out of him. “That’s why you came to my house!”

Connie’s eyes lit up when he looked at Sasha. He snapped his fingers when he remembered what you had told them at the diner. “You’re totally right! It all makes sense now.”

Sasha’s eyes darted around the ceiling in thought. It was as if she were imagining connecting all the dots like this was some sort of police investigation. She wildly gestured as she talked out her grand ideas. “You have a big, fat crush on her, and you have no idea what to do about it. Mr. No-Strings-Attached finally wants some strings, eh? So you came to me to ask for advice on how to get with–”

Eren heard your footsteps approaching from the hallway. He leaned forward in his seat, piercing eyes full of urgency. He waved his hands back and forth like he was trying to throw aside the paper trail of her investigation. “Would you shut it?” he hissed through his teeth.

Connie sat up straight, roaring with laughter. He never failed to entertain himself. “What? Don’t want us to embarrass you in front of your love?” He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. “Hey, if you don’t make a move soon, I might just swoop in. Or maybe Jean will.”

Eren’s hands clenched into fists before he shoved them into his pockets. He looked down at his feet once you returned to the living room, his loose strands of hair covering the burning intensity in his eyes.

Completely oblivious to the situation that had transpired, you handed off your pair of rollerskates to Sasha. “Here ya go!”

“Thanks! I owe you one. They really overcharge for those rentals, don’t they?” She took the pair of skates into her hands with a smile. “I’ll be sure to give them back the next time I see you. Which is…?”

You thought over your schedule in your head, quickly realizing she was referencing how long it had been since you last got together. You hadn’t been at her place for your usual Sunday hangouts with Mikasa, and you definitely hadn’t been to one of her game nights. Well, the game night thing wasn’t entirely on you, though. Jean and Eren were the ones who left a sour taste in everyone’s mouth.

You smiled at her with reassurance. “I can come by tomorrow morning. We can get some coffee if you want. I’ve seriously been craving one of those blueberry muffins.”

She beamed at you with excitement. “I would love that!”

“It’s a date then.” You blew her a kiss. She pretended to catch it and then proceeded to shove the imaginary kiss down the front of her shirt to save it.

You walked your friends to your front door. Sasha took a couple of steps through your doorway with Connie just behind her. He turned around one last time, not wanting to leave before taking a final jab at Eren.

In a sing-songy tone, he cooed, “Bye, Eren.” He made some kissing sounds at his friend before skittering out the door just before Eren could say the last word. You questioningly squinted your eyes as you shut the door. It was impossible to try to understand that boy.

Eren looked like there was a dark cloud raining over him. You stared, just for a second, but his eyes stayed firmly fixed on the floor. You pushed your cheek in with your finger and gnawed on the flesh in thought. It probably wasn’t the ideal time to pick up where you had left off. But, hey, there was no time like the present.

You returned to your spot on the couch. “Can I ask you something?”

Eren only looked up once he heard your voice. His expression softened at the quavering tone. He really didn’t want to have any sort of meaningful conversation right now – not after all the bullshit with Connie – but he couldn’t say no to you. Not with the way your head was cutely tilted to the side, your pensive eyebrows sitting low on your eyes.

“Go for it.”

You drew in a large breath of air, so deep that it hurt at the end. Without exhaling, you spit out a slurry of words, “Do you remember that time you met Sasha and me at the coffee shop?”

You were surprised that it looked like he made sense of your jumbled sentence. All he had to hear was ‘coffee shop’ for him to instantly want to revoke the permission he gave you to ask.

Of course he remembered.

“Yes.” He was short with it. Quiet, too. Both of you were shrinking right before one another.

“Why did you come by that day?”

“I was trying to get something back from Connie, remember?” He was trying to speak matter-of-factly, but you were able to see right through him.

“But that’s not true, is it?”

“Why do you say that?”

You averted your eyes from his gaze, wanting nothing more than to shout ‘never mind’ and pretend like you hadn’t even said anything in the first place. Your mouth started to form the words before your brain could catch up. “Sasha texted Connie after you stopped by. He said he never borrowed anything from you.”

Only after you finished your sentence did your eyes meet again. Your expression was gentle as you searched for any hints from him – anything that would give you the last piece of the puzzle that you so desperately needed.

You could almost see the way his heart dropped just by the look on his face. His composure held firm even though it was clear he wanted to grip at his temples in frustration. Deep down, he knew it was inevitable that he would get caught. He only found it embarrassing that Sasha cracked the case so effortlessly. She was usually the last person to come to any conclusions on her own.

Before he could respond, you took the opportunity to jump in. You lightened your tone a bit as you spoke. “Is it because you wanted to see me?”

Eren opened his mouth to say something, but he cut himself off and looked down at his hands. He started to fumble with his fingers aimlessly. A little smirk appeared on your face as you recalled all of the nicks you noticed around his nails earlier.

You started to poke at his side in a lame attempt to ease the mood. You crooned, “Is it because you like me? Hmm? Hmm?” Your annoying song only lasted a couple of seconds before Eren swatted your hand away.

Your sheepish smile was now mischievous. It was a look that Eren recognized all too well from how much time you had spent together. It was the same reason he knew you were absolutely full of it as you tried to remain nonchalant.

“Was it not obvious enough?” His voice was flat and gave you no indications of how he felt. Honestly, you didn’t expect such a forward reply, especially considering he was so flustered just moments ago.

“I-I don’t know,” you stuttered. Great, now it was your turn to be the bashful one.

“Going down on you was a bit too subtle of a hint then?” He looked at you again. A faint smile had replaced the solemn look he previously wore.

“Well, I’m sure you’ve done that with plenty of people you didn’t have feelings for,” you said. It came off wrong, you could admit that. You felt your lips grow tight after the words left your mouth. But really, what right did you have to assume you were any different from the rest? It was more than feasible that Eren viewed you just as casually as all the others.

Just the thought caused a pang of jealousy to strike hot in your stomach.

He sarcastically rolled his eyes at you. “Didn’t think you were the jealous type,” he said with a short laugh. You continued to stare at him blankly, his joking tone only making you feel worse for bringing up the topic in the first place.

Eren could tell you were growing meek before him. He sucked in a deep breath and leaned in close to you. He cupped each of your cheeks in his hands and spoke to you directly, like the way a mother would when she wanted her child to really hear her. Or, more appropriately, like when Sasha would take you by the shoulders and vigorously jerk you around when you were being an idiot.

“I haven’t thought about anyone else since I met you,” Eren said.

His words crumbled all the walls you had built around yourself, shattering that promise you had made to yourself to not fall for anyone.

“So, what did you want that day?” you asked.

God, were you really going to make him say it?

Eren let go of your face and looked down again. He let out a chuckle that sounded more like a disbelieving scoff. His hand found yours, and you could feel the intensity behind his touch. When he spoke, he said it as if it was the most obvious answer on the planet. “You.”

“Me?” Your voice squeaked at the end. You didn’t mean to say it – the words just fell out of your mouth. Eren’s answer was clear, after all. It left no space for interpretation. If anything, it was what you had expected, or at least hoped for, him to say. It didn’t make responding any easier. Was there a more appropriate answer? ‘Oh, cool.’ Or maybe a ‘ditto’ could have worked.

That was why you just kept your mouth shut most of the time.

“I wanted you!” he admitted, rather loudly. Frankly, he felt himself growing a bit irritated. You could never seem to get his words through that dense skull of yours. His hand was now squeezing yours a little too tight. “For fuck’s sake, you’re all I think about. I feel so much better when I’m with you. Like, I am smiling so much that it actually hurts by the time you’re gone. And I know that sounds so goddamn stupid when I say it like that, but fuck it!”

He drew in a sharp breath and continued before you could even make a sound. “Why else would I be doing all these cheesy things with you, like baking brownies or going bowling?”

Eren finally released you, and the blood flowed back into your fingertips. He brought his hands to cover his eyes, dragging them down the length of his face. His voice was hushed but still just as agitated. “I don’t even know the last time I went bowling before that.”

There was a pause. You weren’t sure you were hearing him right at this point. You still didn’t know what to say – you never knew what to say to him. But especially now, with him telling you all of this, your thoughts were on a racetrack at this point. You went with your only go-to.

“I would have guessed you went every weekend considering that you kicked my ass,” you half-heartedly joked.

Eren gave you a mirthless laugh. It was all he could choke out. He couldn’t even look you in the eyes as his thoughts pounded against his head. It was truly nauseating. It took all of his strength to tell his best friends how he felt about you, and now he had just bluntly confessed it straight to your face.

He wanted to grab you by the arms and shake you around, and he would have if you were anyone else. Was that really all you had to say back?

“At least we know we don’t have to go bowling again,” you said.

His eyes snapped to look at you. “Wait, you don’t like bowling either? Why didn’t you say something?”

“Why did you offer it if you don’t like it?”

“I don’t know!” He paused only to groan. “If you couldn’t tell by now, I haven’t done a whole lot of thinking lately.”

You smiled, and the tender expression on your face somehow made him feel even more ill. You placed your hands around his own.

“I just wanted to spend time with you. I didn’t care if it meant I had to embarrass myself trying to bowl. I like you, too, you know,” you said. Eren blinked a couple of times, his eyes staring straight into yours now. You lowered your voice a couple of octaves to mimic his tone. “Was it not obvious enough?”

He seemed to appreciate the joke. His nose scrunched up, and he let out a pitiful laugh. His head slumped into you with his forehead collapsing against your shoulder. “I think you might just be the death of me.”

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[spacedykez]

37 for the ask game in your pinned? i like your pfp btw very fun

Send me a number 1-100 and I’ll write a short drabble based on the corresponding song in my 2023 playlist!

37 | All Eyes On You - Smash Into Pieces | oc:Loki

Breathe easy, take your aim, boy Ain't nobody gonna save you, so whatcha gonna do?

you're on teyn-c, a damp, swampy planet filled with huge plant structures, when the Captain (not Conner, never Conner, you're not allowed to call him that. only his friends are, and you're not his friend, you tried) announces that he has something to say.

"my valued crew, I have spent several weeks reviewing the data from our mission on machu-6, and I've located our failure point!"

"That's excellent news, conner!" one of the guys pipes up. that one left bruises on you that lasted for weeks last time you went near him.

"you see, it was loki! that thing's presence disrupted our team and led to us failing to capture the specimens we needed!" the Captain turns to face you, his eyes boring into your soul. you feel small.

they're all staring at you.

"captain, i-"

your feet fall from under you as you're pulled off your feet by your tail. they hold you up like a fish on a line, and the captain slaps your face. it would sting, if he hadn't done the same thing every day for four months.

"no. you don't talk to me. only Scientists talk to me, and you'll never be a Scientist."

it's not far to the nearest town here. what if you just ran away?

you suck in a breath.

"i'm more of a scientist than you'll ever be, captain," you spit his words at him. the men holding you throw you against the ground, hard. your face feels wet. you don't know if it's mud or blood. you don't think it matters.

pain shoots through your body as his boot connects with your stomach

"you want to dress like an animal, you get treated like one," he sneers.

your fingers find their way into your jacket pocket. he doesn't notice. he doesn't care. he's not even looking at you. he grunts in disgust.

"i'm never-" finishing his sentence, is what he's never doing. because you shoot him.

your fingers feel warm against the pistol in your hands. you designed it yourself, specialty.

the men stare at you. you fire again.

chad, brett, ryan, rob lie dead in the mud. its turning a deep red with their blood.

you stare at samuel, the man who spoke before. the one who left bruises all down your arms and legs. conner's right hand man.

"listen, loki-"

you have one bullet left.

the remaining men are watching you with new fear, maybe even respect in your eyes. it wont stop you from blasting them into shrapnel for everything they did to you.

click.

your finger hits the trigger.

a blossom of blood erupts from samuel's forehead, and he crumples.

you leave no survivors.

[howlingday]

Scarlet Knight, Velvet has a crush on Jaune however finds herself unable to say it outloud to him. One day their paired up for a match and while jaune didnt mean any offense sees this as an easy match...angering her that she beats him in combat however when she realizes the boy she loves is under him she faints making them both lose, in the infirmary she confesses her feelings.

"Next match," Professor Goodwitch called from the ring, "Jaune Arc of Team JNPR will spar, unarmed, against Velvet Scarlatina of Team CFVY."

"Good luck, Jaune. ...Ow." Ruby winced as his fellow team leader returned from the previous match against Cardin. He got one lucky shot in and dropped her aura hard.

"Thanks." Jaune gulped, stepping down to the locker room, ready to get changed.

Velvet may have been smaller than Cardin, but she was also ahead by one year. She probably had some super awesome moves from being the best team of last year. For her, this match would be a piece of cake.

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

Velvet's heart thundered in her chest. She was straight up freaking out! Full-on panic mode! Why did she agree to participate with the first years?!

Oh, wait! She didn't! Coco signed her up, in a sick attempt at playing matchmaker. Stupid, fashionable, devious Coco! She knew Velvet had a crush on Jaune ever since he helped stop Cardin from bullying her. She didn't know the full details, but she knew he was a major factor in stopping the brute and his gang.

Now here she was, arming out to go all out, toe-to-toe with the boy her near-exploding heart had been set on. Should she go easy on him, or would he think she was too weak? If she went all out, would he be intimidated by her? One wrong move, and her love life would end before it could begin!

She shook her head and took a deep breath. There was nothing she could do now. Everything had been set in stone. She was going to go out into the arena and get face-to-face with the boy she had been thinking about for the past three weeks, three days, twelve hours, and seven minutes.

She just hoped she didn't cry before the end of this.

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

Jaune watched as Velvet approached, her camera attached to her side, on her belt. The girl was usually a timid sort, but being in her combat gear must have had an effect in her. In fact, she looked so ready to fight, her face reddened at the fight before it began. He was so nervous!

It was times like this when he had to say something to make things easier for him. Something to break the ice and calm his frayed nerves. He tried with Cardin, both out of class and, albeit at the start of the school year, in class.

"I'm, uh, actually glad we're sparring today." Jaune said.

"Really?" Velvet's ears perked up straight. "Why is that, Jaune?"

"Well, I was tired of getting thrashed around by someone as big as Cardin, so-"

"So you think this is going to be easier?" She smiled widely, though it made her look a little awkward.

"W-Well, no, not really." Jaune gulped. "It's just, he's a big, beefy guy, and-"

"And I'm a weak, little girl. Is that it?"

"Begin!" Professor Goodwitch announced.

"No, I'm just saying saying that takes me down in one swing, and you-" Jaune blinked and her knee was moving at 100 miles a minute. He cursed himself and his big mouth.

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

Velvet was furious! He has the gall to call her weak after everything she's been through? The bullying from Team CRDL? The sexual harassment from her supposed peers? The haunting failure on her mission to Lower Cairn?

She was done being the weak, little bunny. Now she was going to show everyone how strong she really is! Launching herself like a missile, her right knee leading, she crashed directly into Jaune's face. He fell backward, reaching for his nose.

Velvet pinned his wrist with her right, and his opposite forearm with her left. She smashed her left shin into his chest, knocking the wind out of him. Her free hand clenched into a fist and jabbed his pretty face three times. She rolled backwards into a combat stance, hopping on her heels, the balls of her feet touching the ground.

"Get up!" She barked. "Get up and take it like Cardin would!"

Meanwhile, Cardin tugged at his collar in the bleachers. Everyone stared, though a few glared, directly at the tall student. He let out a weak chuckle, excusing himself to the restroom. Professor Goodwitch waved him off, her eyes on the match. He bolted through the doors.

"Fine!" Velvet shouted. "I'll just come over there and make you stand up!" She stomped towards him, fury in her eyes, but tripped just before reaching him and fell on top of him. Her senses soon returned and she was staring face-to-face with Jaune, whose black eye had healed perfectly.

Her breath hitched in her throat as she looked at him. His face was radiant, like looking into the most beautiful light. Like staring into the face of an angel, she could not bare to behold him for very long.

Everything went black, and she fell forward.

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

Velvet awoke in the infirmary. Wearily, she blinked the tiredness from her eyes. It was dark, and the only light was the glow of the shattered moon from outside. But it was enough light for her eyes to adjust and see Jaune, sleeping next to her in the other bed. He looked so peaceful, and it made her heart flutter.

"Jaune," she sighed, "I am so very sorry about today. I took what you said to personally, and I, well, I lost my temper. The truth is I didn't want to fight you because..." Velvet then swallowed the dry lump in her throat. It was now or never. "It was because I really like you. I don't really know why myself, but when I think about you, I suddenly feel very happy, and I want to share that happiness with you." Velvet sighed. "But there's no point now. You're probably more scared of me than Cardin, and I can't blame you. I did beat the tar out of you, and-"

Velvet heard a snicker from his bed. She looked closer. He was smiling at her, one eye open. She felt heat rush to her face.

"Sorry, sorry." Jaune whispered. "I didn't mean to interrupt. What was it you were saying about beating me up?"

[hekate1308]

That's All? Easy.

Prompt: That's all? Easy.

Fandom: Father Brown

Pairing: Gen

This was not a situation he had ever believed he would find himself in – again, he might have added, and wasn’t that just ironic – but here they were.

At the kitchen table in the vicarage, talking through the case (this time only with Father Brown and Sid Carter because of the nature of what they’re talking about), even though Tom still did his best to keep the Father from meddling too much (albeit he had been more lenient ever since they got him off the hook for murder – it just seemed right).

But today, this was not about solving the case – at least not really. No, he knew who had done it – it was staring him right in the face – the problem was that Judge Haldeman was a very influential man (once more history repeating itself) – and he could do nothing. He didn’t have enough evidence for a warrant, although he knew exactly what this should and would consist of.

Eva Wallis, the woman he had been having an affair with – it was Tom’s understanding that his wife usually knew and did little to stop her husband, probably because it took his attention away from her – had been found strangled two days ago, and every witness who had seen her in the last week had told them that she had been wearing an expensive necklace she would never have been able to afford lately and been very proud of it. And that was where it got interesting.

Because Haldeman – every knew it – was a cheapskate. The kind of man who demanded he be handed back any change, even if it were only a few pennies, the one who despite his high position never gave to charity, someone who would have taken the clothes off a freezing child’s back if it brought him just a little bit of money.

Which meant that, if the necklace had been a gift – and it must have been, though deep down, Tom found himself wondering if it had not been blackmail, therefore giving him even more of a motive – he would have used the murder to take it back. And again, someone like Haldeman would not be capable of giving something valuable like the necklace away. Which meant he must have it somewhere in his house, most likely. But without a warrant…

“So we need to check out the judge’s mansion and find the necklace? That’s all? Easy” Carter announced because of course he would. It probably would not even be the first time he “checked out” the house in question.

“Yes, and illegal” he snapped.

“While I have to agree Inspector” Father Brown said, “It is something to break into a house and another to let a murderer roam free. If someone can strangle someone in cold blood once, there is no reason to think he won’t do it again when another – inconvenience presents itself…”

And the problem was that he was right. Tom had looked into many murderer’s eyes, and you could tell whether they were sorry for what they done, and Haldeman had shown no regret whatsoever. He’d taken a life – and a life of a woman he must have liked reasonably well at some point, or at least whatever passed for this sort of thing in his cold mind – and he was the kind of man who would take the experience and come to the conclusion that he could get away with murder again because he had done it before.

They needed to pin him down.

There was nothing to do but to look at Carter and nod. He understood immediately.

That evening, as Carter had told him (and enjoyed that he got to do so in that obnoxious manner of his) Tom made his way to Haldeman’s house. Get him on the terrace, that was what Carter had said, and it was easy enough to do – just ask if they could have a quick cigarette outside while they went over a few small details once again – and Haldeman was too sure of himself and his success to even be slightly troubled.

He confirmed the affair again, although he claimed it had ended about a month ago; and that he had not been interested in seeing her again; and no, he had no idea who would want to harm her –

And then, the window upstairs broke, causing them both to look up, and something flew out and right in front of their feet.

It was the necklace.

Carter had never been the subtlest of man, but for one, he didn’t care. He leaned down and picked it up before Haldeman could react. “I have to say – sir, this looks exactly like the description of the necklace the victim wore. Do you have an explanation for why it was in your house?”

The subsequent routine would ensure that Carter could get away without a hitch.

[blueicequeen19]

Innocent Pt. 16

I wake up to the sound of Rafe's shower. I roll over and a soreness between my thighs sets in. I glance at my phone to see that it's about 5am. I carefully sit up and spot his clothes on the floor. Right on top is his North Face and not only is it wet but there's blood on it. I jump to my feet and grab it, like holding it will make the blood go away. I suddenly find myself hoping it's not his. The bathroom door opens and Rafe emerges in just a towel. He looks exhausted but his eyes are still hard as I clutch his jacket.

"It's mine." He says, breaking the silence. I wait for him to fill in the blanks but he doesn't. Rafe goes over to the dresser and pulls on a pair of boxer briefs then rakes his dark hair out of his eyes. I go into the bathroom and run cold water in the sink then wash away the blood. I look up to see him watching me from the door way, his arms crossed.

"I'll miss you when I'm in jail." His voice is gruff, defeated. That tells me that he didn't succeed in killing his sister.

"What happened?" I ask softly and his face hardens again.

"My sister has a lot of boyfriends obsessed with her apparently. Topper showed up." Rafe growls, the muscles in his arms bulging.

"Now what?" I mumble and our eyes meet in the mirror.

"I'm sure they'll be coming for me soon." Rafe steps up behind me and brushes the hair off my neck, his hand staying around my neck. Chills erupt all over my skin at the power this man holds over me.

"My mom says they're pulling the life support on my father. That I should come say my goodbyes." His breath is hot on my neck and I close my eyes, savoring the feel of him.

"Do you regret it?" He asks, kissing my shoulder and I sigh in pure bliss.

"No. I just don't want to leave you while this is happening." I murmur and his hand tightens on my neck.

"And if I tell you to?" His voice is lower, almost seductive.

"You'll have to kill me Rafe Cameron." I raise my chin as our eyes lock in the mirror and a daring smile forms on his lips.

"It would be easy, yaknow? To kill you. I could snap your neck like a tooth pick." His hand slides to the front of my throat and squeezes. My eyes flutter shut and his free hand slips up his shirt I'm wearing to knead my breast.

"I don't want to live in a life where there's no you." I breathe and he stills, his hand on my throat tightening a little.

"Do you love me, little one?" There's humor in his voice.

"I wish I didn't."

"I wish you didn't either." His hands fall from my body and I feel the weight of their absence. I want to cry. When did this happen?

"I'll see you when you get back." Rafe says, leaving me alone to my thoughts. I quickly jump in the shower and let the hot water rain down on me. Maybe I'll find some dignity while I'm in here. The first person I've ever admitted feelings for, doesn't feel the same way. And he's a murderer, to top it all off.

After getting dressed and braiding my hair, I don't find Rafe anywhere. I'm almost grateful I don't have to say goodbye.

I jog down the stairs just as Kelc is on his way up. I try to advert my eyes but he doesn't hide his disgusted scowl.

"Later, Slut." Kelc announces as we pass each other. I stop in my tracks, turning to face him. I'm so tired of being afraid. I'm tired of being the shy, timid girl that powerful men prey on.

"Yaknow, I think you're jealous, Kel." I smile up at him as he turns to face me on the steps. I resist the urge to flinch as he comes to a stop on the step above me.

"Why would I be jealous? It's not unusual for Rafe and I to share. I could have a piece of you if I wanted." Kelc snarls, looking me up and down. Like I'm beneath him.

"Not jealous of Rafe. I mean, jealous of me. It's clear you want Rafe to yourself. Still want to share?" I smirk and Kelc shoves me. I yelp and stumble down the last three steps, landing on my ass. Kelc jumps down the steps and snatches me up by my shirt. I claw at his hand and his neck but he slams me down on the pool table. His body pins me beneath him while his hand squeezes my throat. I gasp for air but nothing happens.

"If you know what's good for you, you won't come back." Kelc snarls, his hold on my throat loosens just a hair and I suck in air.

"And if Rafe calls me?" I choke and his grip tightens again.

"End it. He can have anyone he wants. You're just a waste of time and space. Cut him off. I'm sure there are plenty of Pogues you can spread your legs for." I claw at his hands and he spits in my face, releasing me before going back upstairs. I wipe my face as I fight to catch my breath, rubbing the sore spot on my throat. I push down angry tears and rush out to my car.

My moms text lets me know that they moved my father to a closer hospital since we're ending treatment. Two hours later, I stand in the hospital room like a stranger as they unplug my father from machines. I don't even want to look at him. I want to be with Rafe. I don't care what him or anyone else says. I feel more for Rafe than I do for the two people in this room.

My mother wails as my dad takes his last breath and I embrace her. I don't know what I'm supposed to do or feel so I sniffle and wipe fake tears as minutes go back.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do now." My mother cries as she pushes away from me and collapses into a nearby chair.

"What do you mean?" I ask softly, sitting in the opposite chair.

"I'm not going to be able to afford these medical bills. I'll have to sell everything. The bank will take the store. We don't have life insurance." She wipes her face and shakes her head.

"What are we going to do?" I find myself asking. I'd never thought about what would happen after he died. Just that I would be free.

"We? Please, I know you hate your father. You're glad he's dead. No, I will figure this out myself." I swallow the lump in my throat. All the beatings I took so he would leave her alone and she's casting me to the side too. Like I'm nothing. I stand and make my way to the door without bothering to look back.

[valleyofthemachinegods]

She finds him halfway between the landing pad of her ship and the complex, looking entirely the exiled-yet-redeemed husk of a man she'd taken him for. It's almost whimsical how he looks, staring off into the landscape, the slight breeze billowing the white fabric that adorns him nigh-hypocritically. Hildr-- and that is who she is today-- isn't entirely surprised; a deaf man could hear the whispers that follow him, the accusations. It's warranted, she knows; the same for her, though they dared not to create cause for her eye to fall on them.

Commander or not, she is just as guilty as he is.

"Arcann," she greets, noting the way his body shifts, as if surprise had conquered the Force, as if he hadn't felt her presence long before she'd announced it.

-- conjecture, possibly.

Still, Hildr finds a place at his side, letting the scenery draw her gaze in the same way it always does. Odessen truly is something to behold, a rarity, and certainly not for the sake of a balanced Force.

"Commander," he returns her greeting at last. She feels him shift again, uncertain. It's curious, unexpected, and she wonders if he'll offer her any insight into his head.

"You haven't said why you spared me."

Ah, there it is.

She prefers it when he is less forthcoming.

"You haven't asked," she hummed in response. The tips of her gloved fingers drum against the railing, less impatient than they are a manifestation of idleness.

She can feel the sidelong glance he gives her. This is a familiar exasperation, previously encapsulated in her dry quips during battle.

The Commander deigns, just this once, to be forthcoming. "It's complicated," she admits, resting her chin in her hand. "Multi-faceted."

The silence he offers her is well-deserved, she thinks. Arcann patiently waits for her to continue, and she must realize that she's brought this on herself. How easy it would be to simply leave it at that-- but it wouldn't be fair, not to him. Owing him something, for all of the blame and unuttered projections she pins to him, a small token in retribution.

"Do you remember what I said to Vaylin?"

"That we can choose to be better." It sounds better coming from him.

"I didn't do it for Senya," she says quietly, with an edge from an accusation that simply wasn't there, the distortion of her mask hardly allowing the words to filter out. That's the first lie: she places much more on Senya than she'd ever admit. "And I didn't do it for you either," lie number two, "yet I can't deny how selfish I am. Blame it on our bad childhoods, but there is something in you that's also in me."

I'd be afraid to let that die, she omits, because what would that mean for me?

"If you can change, there's a possibility that I can too." There's something weighing her down, an anchor in the syllables, a vulnerability that she had yet to cut out of herself. Hope had been extinguished from her long ago, somewhere aboard a young girl's ship adrift in the fringes of Wild Space-- so whatever this is, she thinks she can allow it. Her hand drifts to his, metallic-skeleton from the darkest spaces between the stars, rests on top of it.

Again, the silence sinks between them, snowdrifts in an endless tundra. It isn't uncomfortable, though her breath is only released once lungs begin to strain.

"We can choose to be better," he says again, lowly, at last, and with a sort of understanding that she loathes. If there is anything else, she is closed off from it. Not unkindly, he removes his synthetic hand from under hers. "If you found something redeemable in me, after everything, then it is in you too."

For all that she is, she can't look at him. The rejection doesn't sting because she doesn't let it: because she knows that friendship is a long stretch for someone like her. She recalls Aurine complimenting her dead eyes, once.

"Of course." Her gaze is drawn again to the black durasteel of his arm, glinting in the sunlight. She traces it up to his ruined face, now directed at her.

"And," she deflects, "If I'd killed you, who would be left in the galaxy to suffer with me?"