plergusocrypto

[lovegalor333]

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

i want to look after you

summary: paige gets injured and you want to look after her

content warnings: suggestive, slightly sexual language

"What the hell happened to your eye?" You question Paige, in slight concern as she walks into your apartment, left eye swollen and red.

"Oh, I got smacked in practice." She says, nonchalant as ever, allowing her bag to fall off her shoulder and onto the floor.

You loved the way she looked post-training. Her hair still damp from the shower, muscles pumped after being used to the extreme and she always wore some variation of a tank top and shorts showing off her long, slender legs and toned arms. Bonus points if she had the sleeves of her tank top tucked in, exposing her biceps like she did today.

She walks over to you, where your curled up on the couch, blanket wrapped around your body while Netflix plays on the TV. The show you were watching becomes background noise as all of your attention is on the blonde girl in front of you. She sinks down beside you and you unwrap yourself so you can get a closer look at her eye. It's bloodshot and you can see a faint bruise already starting to form and her gaze is glassy as if her eye had previously been streaming.

"Gnarly right?" Paige asks taking advantage of you being leaned into her, faces inches away and she presses a kiss to your lips. You kiss her back, of course but that doesn't override your feelings of concern.

"It looks bad." You say, bringing your hand up to her face and gently inching towards the hurt area. Her eye socket is puffy and warm against your skin and Paige winces at your touch.

"Does it hurt?" You inquire, a light frown forming on your face.

"I'll survive." Paige responds, removing your hand from her face and linking it in her own. Physical touch was your girlfriends love language, you believed if Paige could hold your hand at all times, she would. Not that you would complain.

"Not what I asked." You persist, cocking a brow.

"Maybe a little." Paige gives in slumping back into the couch.

You slip your hand out of hers and get up, walking to the kitchen.

"Where are you going? I came over to cuddle." Paige calls out after you and you smile to yourself at her neediness. The same girl that thought it was gnarly having a busted eye loved spending her evenings bundled up with you, in each other's arms watching trash TV.

You quickly filled a zip lock bag with ice before returning to your girlfriend.

"Here, put this on it. It'll help the swelling." You advise and Paige quickly shakes her head, "No. No way, I'm done with ice. It stings." She grumbled, refusing to take the bag from you.

"What if I do it?" You suggest and you swing your leg over her, so your straddling her lap. You wait for her response to your question but she's just smirking now, eyes focused on your legs and where they meet hers, your exposed skin touching hers.

"Paige?"

"If it means you'll stay right here, yes. Ice me all night, baby." She mused, hands riding up your thighs and settling, holding you in place. Her palms were warm against your bare legs and it reminded you how touch starved you were after not seeing her all day.

You roll your eyes at her shameless need for you to be touching at all times, even though you love it and brought the bag of ice up to her eye earning a sharp intake of breath.

"Sorry baby, but it'll help." You say holding the makeshift ice pack over the quickly forming bruise.

You stay sat in Paiges lap nursing the injury for a few minutes before your body begins to struggle to stay still and you fidget in place trying to reposition yourself into a more comfortable stance.

"Y/N, you gotta stop moving like that baby." Paige groaned from beneath you, her grip tightening on your thighs.

"I can't help it." You say fidgeting again, your legs rubbing against hers as you moved.

"OK, fuck this." Paige declared, taking the ice bag from your hand and placing it down before very smoothly flipping you onto your back on the couch.

"But your eye..." You argue as Paige positions herself over you, propped up by her hands at either side of your head.

"My eyes fine, trust me." She insists, leaning down so her face is just centimetres away and you can see every perfect feature so clearly it makes your stomach flip. Her soft, rosy skin glistened in the low light of the room and her eyes, despite one being knocked a little out of shape, shone the most intense shade of blue.

"I want to look after you." You say but it comes out in a pleading tone as your hand finds her jaw and caresses the skin there.

"I can think of many way you can do that, don't worry." Paige quipped, voice quiet and raspy before she finally closed the space between you both, pressing her lips to yours hungrily, a low groan escaping her mouth and vibrating against your lips.

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪  ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

a/n: hi, first post on here, hope you enjoy! open to requests btw :)

[mind-intheclouds342]

Do it for them - Co-captain reader x Curly

Part 4 - Part 5

You heard footsteps approaching, which made you wake up immediately, but when you felt hands on your shoulders, that's when you opened your eyes.

When you saw Jimmy sitting on your bed with his hands on your shoulders, you were surprised, although he also looked surprised to see you awake.

Jimmy: "Captain... I need to tell you something."

"...Is it so important that you had to wake me up in the middle of the nigth?..."

You sat down and turned on the light to see his face clearly, you didn't feel comfortable at all in this situation.

Jimmy: "I was thinking if we open the cargo, maybe we can find something useful there or gain access to some part of the ship that could help us-"

"Couldn't that really wait until morning? Did you have to come into my room?"

He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out, he just took your hands and bowed his head, avoiding your gaze.

Jimmy: "I want to be helpful..."

You pulled your hands away from his and patted his head a couple of times.

"Alright, but let's wait until tomorrow, go get some rest, it's not good for you to be awake at this hours."

He nodded with his head still down and got up to leave your room, but you stopped him at the door.

"How... Is Curly doing?"

Jimmy: "Haven't you asked Anya?"

"She always tells me the same thing... I need to know his condition, I don't want to cling to false hope."

Jimmy: "Of course, she's going to tell you it's fine... Do you want the truth?"

You nodded at his question, preparing for the worst.

Jimmy: "I don't think he can hold on much longer, he's agonizing in the state he's in, his body is useless, he can't move, he can't speak, he can't even open his mouth on his own and can barely swallow. It's a dying dog waiting to be euthanized."

You covered your mouth upon hearing that, the harsh reality your husband was suffering.

You jumped out of bed and grabbed him by his uniform.

"You know the code, you can go see him. Take me there now!"

Jimmy: "I can't, the captain hasn't authorized it yet."

"He can't speak! Can't move! With that logic, I'll never be able to see him! It's an order!"

The man looked at you in silence and with seriousness, soon you let go of his uniform and ran your hands through your hair.

Jimmy: "Just imagine that he's already dead, maybe that way you can work with a cool head, captain."

Those were his last words before leaving your room.

You looked at your empty bed for a few seconds before sitting on it.

"He... is dead... like the cat of Schrödinger..."

You sighed and turned off the lights, trying to go back to sleep, too tired to keep thinking or to notice the unbuttoned buttons on your shirt.

Swansea: "No way, they told us to stay away from the cargo, it's completely forbidden."

"Do those rules really matter right now? Maybe we'll find something there."

Anya: "Maybe there are meds... We are running low..."

Daisuke: "It's not going to kill us to take a look!"

"Here we go"

You sighed as you headed to the cargo hold, the entire crew following you. You entered the code to open the door, and it slowly opened, revealing its contents.

You ventured into it, ignoring the boxes scattered around, more interested in finding something useful to bring you back to Earth while the others checked the cargo.

A light caught your attention, and you could see that there was a screen showing the ship's trajectory; there was a warning alert because they were moving away from the delivery zone. 

You looked closely and tried to figure out where they were going, your face lit up for a moment when you realized they were heading to one of the Pony Express stations.

You did the calculations to figure out how much they would reach.

That place was like a service station, where they could stop if they had any issues with the crew or the ship, but normally it was much faster to make the delivery than to go to one of these, which were too far from the delivery points.

"Maybe the asteroid changed our route and brought us closer to the station before the delivery point... Making the autopilot take us directly there... three months! In three months, we'll be there!"

You gave a small jump, excited about what you had discovered, soon going to the others to be able to inform them.

But just as you were about to reach them, there was a collapse of boxes in the aisle you were passing through.

You could hear their screams and how they called you, you felt a great weight on your body and it was extremely painful, your chest was crushed and you couldn't breathe.

You knew very well that those boxes were strategically placed to avoid damage, so you were sure that someone intervened to make them fall that way.

You let out a sigh, immediately spitting blood, trying to pull your hand out from between the boxes and the mouthwashes on you.

Until you were left with your hand raised and your eyes closed.

.

.

.

.

.

You jumped up with your breath quickened and clutched your stomach as you felt a sharp pain.

"I'm going to kill him"

You didn't take another second to get out of bed, clutching your stomach feeling the pain, but your anger was bigger.

When you were about to leave the nurseary, you heard a groan.

You slowly turned to see that man, or what was left of him, lying on that table.

[ddejavvu]

can you write something about how the gang handles a really emotional Curtis sister... Like she literally doesn't even know why shes crying most of the time she just is. She is literally me

send me requests for the outsiders!

--

At Dallas's groan, "Ah, here come the fuckin' waterworks again," all eyes are on you. You'd been hoping to fly under the radar, but now that seven pairs of eyes are staring at you, your tears escape hot and free down your cheeks.

"It's- I'm fine!" You insist, voice thick and choppy as you rush for the bathroom. You don't shut the door, because even if you did you know someone would have barged in. It's predictably Darry and Soda, but Two-Bit lingers in the hallway, peering in worriedly.

"You're okay, kid." Darry encourages you, a strong hand on your shoulder to help you get yourself under control, "Somethin' the matter?"

"What's with the tears, Baby Curtis?" Two asks, "Movie gettin' to 'ya?"

It's a horror movie- it's safe to say you're not sniffling over blood and guts.

"No, it's-" You sniffle, letting Sodapop tug you into his side where he's now perched on the lid of the toilet. He slings an arm around your waist and you lean gratefully into his side, thankful for the pressure of a body against yours.

"It's nothing. I don't know." You shrug helplessly, and Two smiles- kindly, not teasingly.

"You've got a condition or somethin'." He decides, traipsing back into the living room, "We oughta turn you in to a doctor, have them diagnose you with some crazy new brain condition. Maybe they could name it after you, kid."

"Yeah, Crybaby Curtis syndrome," Steve snickers, and Soda shouts a halfhearted, 'Be nice!' to his friend despite not being able to see him.

"Lay off, Steve," Johnny groans, and you hear Ponyboy chime in with a fervent, 'Yeah!' that he would have kept to himself had Johnny not led the charge. Despite having the upper hand, Ponyboy still struggles to pick fights with Steve. Usually it's a losing battle.

"Come on, kiddo." Darry urges, and Soda sticks close to your side as you shuffle back into the living room. Dallas doesn't move aside to give you your old seat back where he's stretched out over half of it, but he also doesn't protest when you throw your leg over his own to fit on the cushion.

"You've gotta man up, kid." Dally decides, snatching his cigarette out of his mouth and blowing the smoke into your face, "Can't be burstin' into tears all the time. People are gonna think you're weak."

"I am weak," You concede feebly, wiping at one last tear that streaks down your cheeks, "I don't know why it happens most'uh the time. Just does."

"Some people are just like that." Johnny smiles kindly at you, and you appreciate his sweetness, "We ain't gonna judge you."

"It'll be great for gettin' out of trouble," Sodapop grins mischieviously at you, "Just think, when you're a wild child in high school, and you're comin' home drunk at 2AM, Darry's gonna yell at you. Just flash him those teary eyes of yours and he'll get all soft for 'ya, he'll let you off real easy."

"Hey- Don't you go givin' her any ideas." Darry points a warning finger at Soda, and Ponyboy scoffs, surely jealous at the prospect of your secret weapon.

You share a secret smile with Soda, though, one that's hidden from both of your brothers. Two-Bit catches it and snorts, "Damn, Darry. I'm not itchin' to be you in a few years."

"Well then you'd better start hangin' out at your own house every once in a while," Darry glares at him, "You spend so much time here I'm gonna give you a chore on the chore chart."

"I don't even do chores at my own place," Two-Bit snickers, like the suggestion is the funniest one he's ever heard. He stretches his arm out behind your head, resting it on your far shoulder, "Just call me whenever you're goin' to those parties, Y/N, and I'll get drunker'n you, make you look like a saint in comparison."

"Dally's a saint in comparison to you, Two-Bit," Ponyboy gripes, "Just don't climb through my window expecting me to help you sneak past Darry."

"Now I mean it, boys," Darry snaps, "Don't go givin' her ideas! Conversation over."

Dallas waits all of three seconds before leaning down, tucking his face beside your ear so that he can drawl, "I'll teach you how to sneak past him if you can go without cryin' for a day."

"Deal." You hold out a pinky for him to link with his own, and if anyone else in Tulsa had offered it, they'd have gotten slugged. Instead, Dallas's finger curls around yours, and he shoots you a shit-eating grin, eyes glimmering dangerously, "24 hours, crybaby. Don't let me down."

[dsireland86]

I won't be able to listen to this song the same now 🤭😏🫠

Tag list: @philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @theanarchymuse95 @thisbicc @lma1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa @fadingintothegrey @an0mallly @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @mrsnoahsebastian @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @stardustsirenmelody @romanreigns-supreme @anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey

18+below the cut

"Whatcha doing?" Nicholas asks, coming up beside me. "Grocery list. Need to add anything?" "Nutella. I used the last of it yesterday." I write his request down, smiling when he kisses me on the cheek and says thank you. "What would we do without you, Y/N?"

"More than likely starve," Jolly points out, coming into the kitchen. "Can you put black licorice on there for me, too?" "Dude, don't make her buy that! That shit tastes like fucking ass."

I hide my smile behind my hand, trying my best not to laugh. Nick is right, but the look on Jolly's face is priceless. "Hey, I'll get it, don't worry," I reassure him, pressing my hand against his chest. Jolly looks down at me and I feel his body ease.

"Thank you." "No problem." Jolly walks away, mumbling off words in Swedish, knocking Nick in the shoulder in the process. "Oh, what the hell, Jolly!" I return to my shopping list, shaking my head.

"Hey, Noah," I hear Nick say as he leaves the kitchen. I freeze; my body tightening, my legs pressing together, and my sex tingling, making my panties wet. Long arms brace themselves against the counter, pinning me between it and the body they belong to. I can smell Noah's presence and it makes me weak in the knees even though I'm sitting down.

"Hey you." "Hey."

"I missed you today." "I missed you, too," I admit, hiding my grin behind the palm of my hand.

Noah's lips kiss my neck, making me sigh. My stomach tightens, my pussy clenches, and the "please fuck me" feeling rushes over me, causing me to press my thighs together again.

"I thought about last night. It was all I could really think about today." "Oh, really?" The memory of last night reminds me how sore my ass still is. "You still feel me there don't you, Princess." I squirm in my seat, just thinking about it.

Noah and I decided to try a new thing; anal sex. As hard and painful as it was at first, once he was in was the most unimaginably amazing feeling ever; for both of us. Especially when Noah pulled me up and had me sitting on him.

He made sounds I'd never heard him make before and bit my back so hard when he came that he left a massive bruise and bite mark on my skin. "You felt so fucking good. I still can't believe you let me fuck you like that, though. Thank you." Noah kisses the side of my head. "Well, you sound so fucking good, so we both win." HIs sweet, subtle laugh brushes warmly against my face.

"I didn't hurt you too badly, did I." I smile at his sweet concern, shaking my head. But that's when I notice something is different. He sounds different. "What's going on with you?" I ask. "What do you mean?" "You sound different?" "Do I?"

I turn around to face Noah, forcing him to straddle my leg, and stare at him. That's when I see it; something in his mouth. It's big. It's shiny. It's a fucking grill. "Noah! What the fuck? Where did you get that?" I gasp, trying hard not to feel turned on by the sight of it. "Oli. He sent it to me."

Noah proudly shows off the shiny piece of silver decking his upper set of teeth. I haven't seen him this cocky and proud of anything since the band's run with Bring Me over the winter. The piece is nice, and for some odd reason, all I can think about is what it would feel like if Noah ate me out while wearing it.

"You don't like it," he assumes. I shake my head, tugging at his pant leg. "Actually, that's not it," I confess, peering up at him through my lashes. "I'm thinking things." Noah's lips curl into a closed grin. "What kind of things?" "You should know." Noah huffs a light laugh. "Maybe I should. But maybe I just want to hear you tell me." "Alright," I agree, willing to play his game of cat and mouse. "I'm actually,"

"Hey, Noah. Jolly and, shit!" Folio enters the kitchen, interrupting me in mid-sentence. "Sorry, Noah." Noah chuckles. "It's alright. We're just talking." The dark gaze he gives me says otherwise. "Jolly, Nick and I are heading out. Y/N, if you're done with the grocery list, Jolly said we could pick it all up for you while we're out." I peer over Noah's shoulder. Folio looks utterly embarrassed. I grab the list off the counter behind me and push Noah out of the way, handing it to Folio, thanking him. He smiles and quickly turns to leave.

I feel Noah's looming presence behind me as he slides his hands around my waist and down the front of my legs, purposely grazing my pussy. I jerk, rutting my ass against his cock which earns me a low growl. "Are you going to finish what you were going to tell me, or do I have to force it out of you," he mutters in my ear, taking it between his teeth and biting lightly. I can feel the coolness of the silver grill on my skin and I shiver a little. "You really want to know?" "I asked, didn't I?" "I want you to use it on me."

At first I think maybe Noah didn't hear me. But then I hear his whispered "fuck". "You want me to eat you out while wearing my grill. Is that what you're saying, Princess?" "Yes. That's exactly what I'm saying."

Noah hums, undoing the button of my jeans and slipping his hands down inside them. I moan at just the feeling of his hands on my skin. Sliding them further down until he reaches my sex, he stops and pushes my panties to the side, inserting two fingers at once knuckle deep inside me. "Oh god, Noah," I moan, gripping his arm tightly while pressing my hand against his, forcing him deeper inside me. "Fuck. You're walls are so fucking tight, and wet. Goddamn, your so wet for me, baby," he growls, sliding his fingers in and out of me rapidly. "Noah," I moan.

Removing his hand from inside me, Noah picks me up and throws me over his shoulder, taking me to our bedroom and closing the door, locking it behind us. He sets me down gently, walking me back towards the bed and shoving me down. Yanking my jeans and panties off, he pockets my panties, before kneeling down before me. "I'm going to need those back," I grin. Noah shakes his head. "Nope, they're mine now." When he smiles, the grill shows, making him look hot as fuck.

"Alright, spread your legs, baby. I want to see everything." I do as Noah asks, letting my legs fall open and making my pussy entirely visible to his eyes only. They're blown wide, consumed with lust. "See anything you like down there?" Noah's eyes peer up at me, and he grins. "You have the prettiest pussy I've ever seen. Fuck," he sighs, shaking his head and licking his lips. "And it's all mine. I can't promise I won't bit you. I'm hungry." He looks at me again, almost in an apologetic way.

Taking his thumb, Noah presses it down on my clit, massaging it in circles. I throw my head back, completely succumbing to the feeling of whatever Noah is about to do to me. "You like it when I play with you first, don't you princess?" I nod, eyes shut tight. He pinches my bud, and I moan loudly, just as he slides his fingers inside me again.

"Noah, shit," I cry. "You'll make me come just from doing this." Noah pulls his fingers out immediately, standing up and climbing onto the bed with me. "I haven't even properly fucked you with my tongue, yet," he smirks lifting my legs. "Well, you're just that good." "That's because I'm the fucking king, baby!" I laugh at the jab at his own song lyrics.

Noah sinks down, resting my legs on his shoulders, and spreads open my folds, giving way to my entrance. His tongue is the first thing I feel, the light gentle feeling sending shockwaves of energy through my entire body. Taking his time, Noah swirls his tongue around my clit, nipping it before abandoning it to kiss the inside of my thighs. He bits the flesh beneath his lips, sucking it afterwards once I've cried out, biting back moans. I grab his hair aggressively, because letting go is the last thing I want to do. The subtle moan he lets out, makes my skin prickle and I tug his hair each time he does something that enforces the heat and tension to coil in my lower abdomen.

"God, your sex smells so good," he whispers, coming up to me for a kiss. I can taste myself on his tongue the moment he slips it inside my mouth, tasting the inside.

"I love the way you taste, princess," he coos, caressing my face. "You taste like heaven. You are my heaven," he tells me, kissing the end of my nose. His dark, almond eyes stare into mine, lovingly looking at me. I run my hands over the sides of his face and he smiles as he slides back down between my legs, retaking his former position.

His tongue plunges deeper inside my core, stealing whatever protest I may have in me, and this time I feel the rough unevenness of the sliver grill over every part of my sex. Noah doesn't miss a spot as he laps up all his spit mixed with my juices and swallows it, humming in approval each time.

"That's it baby, fuck yeah, grind your pretty cunt on me." "Noah," I whine, feeling the building pressure coming to a head. "Fuck, Noah," I moan, chocking back soft cries.

Noah slips his fingers inside me, fucking me sweetly, as he slides his tongue against my clit in a steady rhythm.

"You're about to come for me, princess, aren't you?" I nod, squeezing my eyes closed and biting my lips. "Don't hold back, baby. Don't overthink it. Just let it go, baby. Let it go so I can fuck you the right way and fill you with my cum."

Noah uses his hand and presses down gently on my abdomen while his fingers are still moving in and out of me. The feeling is incredible yet unbearable at the same time. He finds my clit once more, massaging that one spot that he knows is going to give him the reaction he wants.

"Oh god, Noah," I pant, gripping the bed sheets. "Fuck! Baby, don't stop," I beg. Noah doesn't let up, working me up to the edge of my sanity until my orgasm hits me hard, sweeping through me like a desperate wave in a storm. My head falls back and I collapse against the bed, trying to recover my senses.

Noah quickly strips out of his pants and boxers, nudging my knees apart and moves his way in between, laying his weight on top of me. With his hands on my wrists, his mouth imprisons mine, and I sigh into his mouth as my body begins to mold with his. Softly he groans, yielding his body to mine, rutting his fully hard cock against my aching, throbbing pussy. "God, you're so hot," I breathe, unable to peel my eyes away from him. The look he gives me is as if he doesn't believe me. "I'm serious, Noah. You're beautiful." "You're prettier," he jokes, giving me a half smile. The shine of the grill shows behind his lips, causing me to pull him down into me and devour his mouth until we both almost can't breathe.

"Who owns you, princess," he whispers in my ear. "You do," I whimper, feeling the head of his dick probe my entrance. "Tell me you're mine. That you're my slut and this pussy is all mine to fuck and eat," Noah demands, slowly thrusting his cock a little further into me. "Noah," I moan, crying his name and arching my back and meeting his thrust. His teeth find my neck and he bites me, the coolness from the silver grill penetrating my veins, as he fully enters me, his cock bottoming out entirely in me, automatically hitting my cervix. "Oh fuck, baby!" I cry out, following it with a loud cry.

Noah grunts, releasing a deep heavy growl, pushing up off me, and slowly starts to fuck me; not fast, but driving each thrust hard into me. His hand found my throat, wrapping around it tight, enough to feel myself letting go. With the pressure of his fingers and the sensation of his cock filling me, I knew I wasn't going to last long.

Soon, the only thing that can be heard is our desperate panting, loud moans, and skin slapping against skin. "Fuck!" Noah murmurs, pounding into me, spreading my pussy and stretching it as he sinfully consumes me.

"Fuck, fuck, princess! Fuck, your cunt feels so good," he moans in my ear. "It's making me loose my fucking mind, every time I'm with you."

Noah pulls himself up, fucking me harder and harder until I hear him say he's about to cum. I can feel his body trembling as his thrusts grow sloppy. My choked moans fall like rain from my lips, spilling out into the air around us.

"Your moans," he growls, "they're driving me so goddam insane, princess. You're about to make me cum so fucking hard for you," he mutters. "Can I cum in you, baby? Can I make it drip down your legs?" "Mmmhmm, please, Noah cum in me," I whisper to him, and he does. With a loud grunt and one more hard thrust, Noah spills himself into my pussy, coating my inner walls with his seed. He collapses into me, burying his face in my neck. I can feel his heart pounding against my arm, the sound of it being the most beautiful thing I've ever heard.

"You're going to be the death of me, woman, fuck," he mutters, sounding exhausted, "You've already killed me, so I guess we're even. Noah looks up at me, confused. "How so?" I smile and brush the tendrils of hair out of his face. "You've stolen my heart, baby. Ripped it right out of my chest." Noah kisses me and I run my tongue over his grill one more time, already anticipating the next time he'll use it.

"I fucking love you, princess," he confesses, laying back down beside me. "I love you back. Now," I say, climbing on top of him and placing my hands on his chest, "are you gonna smile for me and let me see your grill?" I give Noah a wink and watch his face light up with laughter. He grabs my sides and tickles me, sending me into a fit of raging, squealing laughter. "Only if you rob the jewelry store and tell them to make me a grill." "Oh my god," I cry, laughing at his cheesy come back. "You're such a dork!" "I'm your dork," he says, gathering me up in his arms and laying us back into the comfort of the sheets. "Yeah, you are." Noah kisses my forehead as I cuddle up into him, finally feeling utterly exhausted. "I love you, Y/N. Always and," "Forever," I say, and he squeezes me tighter.

[onboardsorasora]

Very random idea I had, based on a silly conversation with @chaosinstigator and @mael-bloggy 🤣🤣🤣🤣 but I managed to make it fluffy (I'll do the rest of the proper linking and tagging tomorrow) not edited.

Part 16

Max placed the plastic plate of food on the breakfast table and chuckled when Little Daniel barely looked over from where he’d been staring at the television for the last half hour. They were back in Monaco, back at Max’s home– well it was also Daniel’s too. Max still felt that way.

Testing had gone on without any hitches and Little Daniel had enjoyed his extended time in the paddock. He was one of the mechanic crew now, ‘helping’ them do a practice pitstop and everything. His grin had been so large when he’d helped Calum use the wheel gun and he’d bounced around giddy, for hours.

“Daniel, you should eat your apples before they turn brown.” Max prompted, brushing wild curls backwards.

“Yucky brown.” Little Daniel declared, reaching blindly for a slice and chewing loudly. “Yum Maxy!”

“You like it? Thank you for telling me.”

Little Daniel grinned at him before his attention was arrested by the TV again. Max watched his familiar profile, once again fondly noting how it was achingly the same as when he was grown up. Even the mole in his hairline was the same.

They watched TV together while Little Daniel ate his snack. The documentary was focused on farms and agriculture, Little Daniel had surprisingly been hooked.

“Maxy! Look at the-the sheeps!” Little Daniel pointed as the sheepdog herded the fluffy animals.

“They're sheep, not sheeps.” Max corrected gently, “look at them go!”

Little Daniel looked over at Max quizzically, Max could see the gears turning in his head.

“But it's prulal- plural!” he insisted and Max bit back his smile.

“Yeah, but sheep is plural. So we don't add the S at the end.”

Little Daniel nodded, accepting Max's answer and turned back to the screen. He ate two more apple slices before “Maxy look at the baby shoop! He's naked! They tooked all his wool!” Little Daniel pointed to the screen, watching to see if Max was looking.

“They did! But it's not cold anymore so they did it to make sure he doesn't get too hot. Then he'll be an overheated sheep.”

“He's one! No plural Maxshy. He's a shoop!” Little Daniel corrected, waving an apple slice.

Max smiled fondly. “No he's a sheep. Sheep is singular and plural. It's weird I know.” He chuckled at Little Daniel's disbelieving face. It was the same face older Daniel gave when he thought Max gave him dubious information and thought he was fucking with him.

It felt like a punch to the gut, the ache. With how painfully familiar it was.

“No Maxshy. Teeth is with tooth so sheep is with shoop.” Little Daniel nodded at his own logic.

“You are a smarty pants aren't you?” Max grinned, thinking of a way to explain it. It was reminiscent of a similar conversation they'd had previously on Daniel's farm. When Daniel had laughingly told him that it'd taken him forever to accept the explanation about why sheep was singular and plural.

Max drew from Daniel's own explanation to him. He pulled Little Daniel into his lap, smiling down at trusting honey eyes.

“English is really silly but it's ooolllddd–”

“Like Helmut?” Little Daniel chirped around some apple and Max snorted.

“Like Helmut. And because it's old it was really really simple. Farmers had their herds and they referred to the herd as one unit instead of multiple animals within the herd. So it's a herd of sheep rather than a bunch of individual sheep. Liiikkee a bouquet of flowers instead of a couple flowers.” Max floundered for more examples while Little Daniel watched him consideringly.

“Like Maxshy and Daniel?” He asked and Max wanted to melt into a puddle, maybe.

“Yeah like us.” Max's voice wobbled and Daniel grinned at him before turning back to the TV that was now showing a herd of what looked like antelope.

Max stared at the slope of Little Daniel's nose and his wide curious eyes. They were a unit, a ‘them’. Max and Daniel, Daniel and Max.

And Max was determined that they would be again.

[eddiediazangst]

Since some people think Demon Eddie was out of character in 8x05, here's a list of Eddie's hands being rated E for Everyone. Buck obviously has more since they're attached at the hip.

This will be updated as the show continues/I remember more of them.

Also it's not in order, maybe I'll fix it and add season and ep but maybe not

Telling Shannon to stay silent as she was actively dying

"You know when you meet someone and you just click" to Buck after Buck's comment about Natalia seeing him

Ana "maybe you should go home" Flores

Telling Buck the upside of being covered in boils is that he wouldn't need a Halloween mask

Asking Marisol to move in and a day later asking her to move out

"Buck you need to move on, I have" when Buck's rightfully concerned about Eddie in dispatch

The entire diva off with Josh, including him waiting months to use Josh's comment against him

Bobby not allowing him to return back to work resulting in "You're gonna stand there with a hundred-something bodies on you and tell me I'm not fit for duty? Go to hell, Bobby"

Calling out Taylor for not eating the food he made then slandering Buck for telling her to eat beforehand in case Eddie flops at cooking

Checking the Halloween decorations and purposely picking up the crow and showing it to Chim to bring up Chimney's past crow related trauma

Telling Buck that babysitting Chris should be easy because he's not very fast and that Chris is shit at building with Lego and it never looks like something

Buzzing at Buck the minute he wakes up from the coma that he was in due to being struck by lightning.

Having a panic attack over someone thinking Ana was his wife

Telling Buck to try something inland next time he and Chris go out somewhere, just after Chris and Buck get swept up in the Tsunami.

Taunting his kidnapper about his plan going wrong "I guess this wasn’t part of your 27 step breakout plan" to the guy pointing a gun at him.

"Do you know how much Christopher misses you? how could you, you're not around"

Telling that same kidnapper "I want you to shut up" like he was just annoyed at this minor inconvenience.

"Didn't know you could bring a date to a Bachelor Party" He's just evil and gay

Throwing the cursed bracelet at Chimney

"Because you're exhausting"

"You live in your invisible girlfriends house and you're telling me about weak excuses"

Him biting Ana's head off for moving her attention off Chris despite the fact she's looking after multiple kids

Jokingly saying "It won’t be easy, I’m pretty cold!" in reply to the responders going to find the heat signal of what they think would be his dead body underground

Purposely avoiding making eye contact with Buck because he's covered in boils

Having to walk away from a scene because he was willingly to let Abby's fiancé die purely because he was Abby's fiancé (He met Abby for the first time ever 5 minutes prior)

Making fun of Buck for reading a book, finding out the book was about woman and immediately saying that explains it.

Found out Marisol was a nun and immediately got the ick so bad that he couldn't get it up

"You sure thats a smile? it's the same face Buck makes when he's gassy" Eddie my love wtf

[early2000smovieimagines]

Meeting David Allen Griffin

(Not my gif) (Requested by anonymous)

(I'll try to get the dating portion of this finished in the near future. I felt like there was too much included in this scenario to put it all in one post anyway. Hope you enjoy!)

“Have you ever noticed that the older you get, the smaller you become?”

- You don’t know the exact moment you started to feel insignificant but it felt as though the minute you turned eighteen, it was magnified sevenfold. Once you got out of high school and you got your license and you started working, you started to realize just how anonymous the rest of the world really was. 

- You could pass by hundreds of people a day, and yet, you wouldn’t be able to recall a single one of them off the top of your head. You could sit on a curb for hours and no one would even bother looking your way. If you started crying, no one would ask if you were okay. If you were visibly struggling, they’d look the other way. It all just felt so …lonely. 

- Maybe that’s why you started your humble radio show. Maybe a part of you was yearning: yearning to reach out and brave that daunting gap between you and the rest of the fast paced society that was whirling around you. To speak to the people who looked a lot like yourself: like-minded individuals who just wanted to talk to someone who was willing to take the time out of their day to listen; to speak to someone who wanted to make a connection with them regardless of how fleeting that connection may prove to be. 

- Anonymity provided the people who called into your show with a sense of protection. They quickly found themselves throwing their inhibitions to the wind, allowing themselves to speak freely and comfortably, to vent their frustrations. Most of them were lonely: happy to speak about anything at all. Some were opinionated and prideful: wanting to talk about their views and passionately debate any point that you brought up that they didn’t agree with. Others were desperate: seeking guidance from another faceless person who tried their best not to judge. You’re not entirely sure where David fell on that list, though perhaps it was somewhere in the middle. 

- You worked your radio show late at night which meant that most people weren’t around to listen to it: if you were lucky, you’d get ten or so callers a night, and if you were really lucky, none of them would be perverts. Most of the time, you’d just play music for your listeners or ramble on about relevant facts or whatever else came to mind that could help you pass the time.

- David's calls were a welcome reprieve, a break from all of the prank callers and heavy breathers. You always knew what you were getting into whenever you heard his voice, knew it would never let you down. After a while, you’d begun looking forward to talking to him. 

- He didn’t call regularly and the lengths of his conversations always varied; ranging from guest speaking for a couple of minutes to practically becoming a co-host, but you were always more than happy to talk to him. That was, until his calls started taking a darker turn.... 

“Have you ever thought about hurting someone.”

- The question had thrown you off, your eyes glancing towards the line that connected the two of you. “I think most people have,” You’d answered after a moment or two. “When someone wrongs us I think it’s sort of natural to get upset and want to get even.”

“No, no. Not when you’re wronged. I mean a total stranger. Someone you don’t even know.” Came his reply. 

“I can’t say I have David. …Have you?” He didn’t speak for a moment, the silence feeling much more heavy than the ones you were used to. Finally, he let out an exhale and answered. 

“All the time.” The way he said it made you shiver: the way his voice seemed to change, shift into something a little darker, something with more depth than you were capable of understanding. 

“Why do you think that is?” You questioned earnestly, intrigued yet wary. David had never behaved like this before, and this slight crack in his facade had managed to fill you with morbid curiosity. 

“I don’t know. It’s just always been there. Something in me just wants to do it,” He’d answered, pausing for a long moment before continuing. “What do you think about that?”

- The call ended soon after, and the next call you'd had with him made it seem as though things were back to normal, but after that, there was a noticeable shift in the way that David talked to you. He still spoke about music or the same types of things he’d always brought up, but amongst all of that were conversations about far more morbid topics.

- You wrote it off as an interest in psychology or forensics, sometimes an odd way of wording things while trying to have a deep conversation, but after a while, you couldn’t deny that there was something truly off about your anonymous friend.

- In a matter of months, he’d shifted from talking about bands to telling you about his violent thoughts: about how he’d stalked a woman, about her routine, about how he’d killed her, and about how it felt. You’d let him speak about it for a while, mainly out of morbid curiosity: unsure of whether he was reciting fact or fiction. You’d answered truthfully when he asked questions, you'd pried for more information, tried to pick apart whether he was being truthful or not.

- You went to the police once you were certain, telling them everything you knew, trying your best to recall all of the details he’d told you about himself; things you’d forgotten about as time went on. They’d chosen to tap your radio station, encouraging you to talk to him and try to get as much information out of him as you possibly could without being suspicious: a taxing request which involved listening to some gruesome details that you’d rather not have heard. 

“You went to the police, they’re listening in now.” He stated with complete certainty one day. It wasn’t a question and you were sure there was no way of denying it. 

“They have my lines tapped. They tried tracing your calls but they can’t link you to any one place,” You’d answered truthfully before hesitantly asking your next question. “Does that make you upset?”

- He took a long pause before he replied. “You’ll have to do more than that to upset me, y/n. You said it yourself: all they’re doing now is listening in like the rest of your audience. They might as well be sat in their cars.”

“I guess you're right. …Is there anything you want to say to them?” 

“I don’t want to talk to them. I want to talk to you. I tried with them, but it didn't work: they didn’t get me like you do. You’re the one who understands me, who sees me. We used to have such great conversations. ...You talk differently now. I liked us better before they got to you.” Us. You weren’t sure how to feel about that one.

- Some days he’d make conversation like normal, tease the police with useless small talk, call just to check in and see how you were doing. Other days he’d spill clues: have the police rush to investigate, have them form a massive swat team just to find another cadaver and get no closer to finding him than they had before. Whenever they tried to talk to him themselves; trying to reason with him or angrily cursing at him in frustration, they’d be met with an empty line or a passive aggressive reminder that he called to talk to you, not them.

“Did you sleep well?” He’d asked one day, curious yet casual.

“I slept fine. Why?”

“No reason. …You just look a little tired lately.”

- The comment made your heart sink, body stiffening in your seat as your eyes shot over to the police man who was stationed in the room with you, finding his eyes already on you. You struggled to respond, your tongue feeling heavy and dry in your mouth as you tried to form words with it. "You've seen me.”

"I see you a lot." He answered, as if it was the easiest thing in the word to admit.

"When?" 

"Whenever I can." 

"Why?" You couldn't come up with anything else, floundering at this new piece of information. 

"Because you're nice to look at." You faltered, unsure of what to say. He hung up after a moment of silence.

- Then came the call that changed everything....

"Hi, it's me." You nearly dropped the phone. Your home phone.

"How do you know my number?"

"I know a lot of things about you.” He answered casually, almost teasing, you could practically hear the smile in his voice. 

"Yeah? So what's my roommate's name?" You wanted to call his bluff, wanted to deter him a little with the promise of someone else living in the same house as you— being there to protect you from him if it really came down to it. 

“Oh come on, y/n. Really?” You didn’t like the amusement in his tone.

“What is it?” You insisted. 

- He paused before speaking, a heavy beat of silence that felt far longer than it actually was. "You don't have one.”

"Why are you calling?" You attempted to steel yourself, trying to keep a level tone and calm your shaking hands. 

"I wanted to talk to you."

"We spoke last night." You reminded as if he could have actually forgotten. 

"I wanted to speak to you in private." He clarified and it made your chest tighten.

"Why?" You asked, though he ultimately ignored the question. 

“You never told me you had a boyfriend. In all our times of talking, you never brought it up.” His voice was more serious now, taking on a sort of grave tone which was rare for him. No longer his chipper, sometimes taunting self. 

“I didn’t?” You replied, trying your best to remain calm. Your question wasn’t too far off from what you were thinking: out of all the times you’d spoken; especially before he let his real self shine through, you would have imagined bringing up your significant other at least once.

“No,” He insisted, pausing before continuing. “I don’t really know what you see in him.” 

- You’re not sure how to reply, and so you don't, waiting for him to continue, knowing he will. “What does he think of all this?”

“I think you already know.”

“You’re right. He doesn’t like it, though that's when he’s actually around to talk to you. He doesn’t make a lot of time for you, does he? I wonder why he even cares if you continue helping the police, continue talking to me, it’s not like he’s doing much to protect you anyway.”

“He’s a busy guy.” The words feel alien, strange on your tongue. The concept of verbally defending your boyfriend to a serial killer is almost comedic. 

“So am I. I still make time for you.”

“Why do you?” 

“I’ve told you before.”

“Tell me again.”

“Because we understand each other. Because you were the only person I had, and even while being in a relationship, I was the only person you had too.… Your boyfriend might as well have been a ghost: never there but never fully leaving. He's just a namesake, you’re better off without him. At least then you'll be fully free.”

- You didn't speak for a long moment, taking in his words. “Thank you.” You hesitantly responded.

“Hmm?” 

“Thank you for being there.” You don’t know why you said it. 

“Break up with your boyfriend.” His voice was quiet but there was something deeply commanding in it, something your words seemed to have awakened. You couldn’t bring yourself to speak.

“Break up with him.” He repeated after a moment of silence.

“I can't do that.”

"Yes you can, you can and you will. Break up with him or I'll get rid of him myself."

“I thought you didn't kill men.”

“I don't, but I'll do it for us. I'll do it just to make sure he's out of your life.”

“Why?”

“Isn't it obvious?” 

“I want you to say it.”

“Not yet,” He replied, pausing momentarily, hanging onto the silence that formed in both your voices absences, savoring the connection between the two of you. “Goodnight y/n.”

- You don’t tell the police he called. You don’t know why. 

- It eats you up inside, and yet, you still can’t bring yourself to do it. You keep it to yourself and let it consume your thoughts, uncertainty riddling your mind. When he asks if you told anyone, you answer truthfully. When he asks if you will, you tell him you won’t. You don’t know why you do.

- He calls you at home in the early mornings. He tells you things he doesn’t say in front of the police: not things that would help them but nothing entirely innocent either. Most of the time he talks about you: about the way you look, about your day, about your connection and the things he likes about you. When he calls into the radio show, he acts as if the calls never take place, as if all the communication you have is inside that room and that you won’t be talking mere hours later while the officers are at the precinct without a clue.

- It becomes obvious that his fascination with you isn't entirely platonic, that he believes there's a deeper connection between the two of you that's brewing beneath the surface. He never outright tells you how he feels, never tells you that he loves you, but he gives you hints. When you break up with your boyfriend, tears falling from your eyes just as the phone begins to ring, he praises you and tells you that it’ll only bring you closer. He can't imagine the inner turmoil that those words bring to you.

"I want to meet you." You tell him one night. Decided.

“We already have.” He replies, referencing the times he's recalled seeing you in person, interacting with you without you even knowing.

“Not like that. I wanna see you. I wanna talk to you.” You insist.

“We’re talking now.”

“I wanna touch you.” The words come out of your mouth as if your voice doesn’t belong to you. It’s late at night, you're lonely, you don’t know why you say it.

- He’s silent for a long moment, and for some reason, you worry that you’ve scared him off, as if that's not something you should pray for and rejoice about.

“How?” He finally speaks and you know right then and there that those words were your golden ticket. His voice is deep with something and it sends a chill down your spine.

“I don’t know," You answer truthfully, faltering. "I just want to feel you, to make sure you’re real, to feel something solid, something that doesn’t disappear.”

“I want you to see me. I think about it all the time.” He comments, taking in your own vulnerable admission and giving one of his own. He trails off for a few moments before he finally speaks again, giving you an address and a time before he hangs up without another word.

- In a moment of clarity, you finally tell the police, feeling as though you’re going insane. You lie about everything else but you give them that, scared of being arrested for keeping away what they might consider crucial information. 

- The police swarm the area but they never find him and you return home later that day, shivering with nerves and feeling as though you’re walking the plank; even as the officers with you insist that you’ll be fine and that they’ll be right outside your apartment in case anything were to happen to you. 

- You almost expect it when you turn around at the sound of your bedroom door shutting, when you find him standing there, basked in the light of your apartment, far more handsome than you ever could have imagined. He stills under your gaze, shoulders squaring, standing tall as you take him in; seeming almost proud of himself. He doesn’t look particularly angry but his eyes bore into your own— as if he can read every thought you’ve ever had. It’s the most seen you’ve felt in a long time, as if you’re completely naked and vulnerable.

- When he walks closer, you’re certain he’s going to hurt you: that he’s going to kill you and instantly end whatever the two of you had after a taste of your betrayal. Instead, he grabs your face, shushing you as you try to explain why you did what you did, gazing into your eyes for a long moment, watching them shine with tears. All before he leans down and kisses you. 

- You don’t know why you kiss back….

[laura1633]

i need to say this somewhere and i hope you won’t mind if i send this “rant” here. bc this is just a stupid smut pet peeve that i let annoy me so much.

but anyway every time i go to the lestappen tag i get really disheartened bc there is such a imbalance. there is so much bottom charles and omega charles and charles being loved and worshiped and i honestly wouldn’t mind that at all but the number of fics where max gets the same are pretty much nonexistent compared to charles-centric fics like there are bottom max fics but they get drowned out. pretty much all the popular fics that have thousands of kudos and that ppl recommend to everyone are bottom charles. seriously i saw a rec list once where the few bottom max fics had the fact that they are bottom max mentioned in the same manner as content warnings for some other fics. it was super weird but maybe the person who made that didn’t think it would come across like that.

i know there are lots of bottom max fics (i’ve probably read them all lol) and ppl who like both, like you. i’m happy about the ppl who comment on bottom max fics those fics still get a lot of love even when it seems so little in the grand scheme of things. but i’m just annoyed and a bit confused that it’s so disproportionate. probably bc charles is more popular than max and bottom charles has gotten so popular ppl are inclined to it and it's "safe" and gets more love.

then again there’s so much talk about omega max on tumblr and then none of that shows on ao3 weirdly. (except maybe on the maxiel side i literally became a maxiel shipper bc i wanted more omega max lol) some ppl on here who say they’re bottom/omega max “truthers” have like several top max fics on their account and no bottom max fics which literally not that deep everyone should write what they want and what they are inspired to write but not practicing what you preach confuses me a bit not gonna lie haha. i’ve written my own fics which are pretty much premises i want to desperately read but no one has written them (like fine i'll do it myself) and i've gotten a good response but i’m a slow writer so i haven't written everything i want to write. thank you for everything you’ve written laura!

I don't mind at all anon, I have added your second ask too <3 Sorry this ended up being a lengthy reply. I love that we can yap about the bottom or omega Max agenda though 😂

I started writing maybe about two years ago and at the time a lot of the Lestappen stories were definitely bottom Charles and omega Charles. I started writing because a little bit like yourself there was some stuff I wanted to read that didn't exist so I just wrote it myself. At the time I had no clue how to write but I have hopefully improved over the past couple years! I was just desperate for there to be some more soft Max or Max being looked after and cared for. I just think Max doesn't get enough love and there can never be enough fics where it's pointed out just how hot he is!

I also like the idea of sexy, hot alpha Charles and think it's fun to not always see him in that 'babygirl' role if that makes sense. Although I can see why he ends up in that role a lot, he is also very pretty

I used to read a lot of Maxiel for the same reason as yourself, in fact I do still read Maxiel because of that reason and also because there are some very talented writers writing it. (although I also think of Daniel as being quite omega like!)

I definitely agree that there is a lot more bottom and omega Max within the lestappen tag now compared to a couple of year ago.

For me, I like to swap it around. I like to write soft alpha Max and even bottom alpha Max. The main thing for me is that the dynamic works for the story I want to tell. I have started leaning more towards omega Max though because I know that there is plenty of omega Charles out there and there are plenty of people who can write omega Charles much better than I can!!

You are absolutely correct about the comments and kudos thing. Firstly I should say that there are some amazing writers writing some amazing bottom and omega Charles fics that deserve all the love in the world and I am not for one second suggesting that they only have so many responses because of the dynamic but (at least to start with) I found that my omega Charles fics got more kudos than the omega Max ones. That might have just been a coincidence but when I start writing a story I know it will get more attention if I write it with the omega Charles dynamic. I'm not for one second suggesting that that is what people are thinking about btw, it's just a fact I have noticed with my own work. These days I just write what I like and hope some other people like it. If I ranked my fics by kudos they definitely wouldn't be in quality order so I don't worry about that now 😂

Like you have said, everyone should write what they like as it's all for fun. I am just glad there are other people out there reading and writing bottom/omega Max or even just Max getting the love and attention he deserves.

I will read top Max and I enjoy top Max. The only Max fics I don't like are where the writer clearly doesn't like Max and is making him unnecessarily aggressive or just making him the butt of the joke in a mean way. I prefer to read Lestappen when I can tell that the writer likes both of them if that makes sense (obviously people have a favourite but that's different. )

The content warning for the bottom Max fics made me giggle. I don't know what context that was in as I didn't see the post but it definitely made me laugh. Maybe it needs a content warning because its likely to alter your brain chemistry and you'll not be able to see him topping again 😂

I will always write some bottom Charles and some omega Charles because it just works in certain contexts for me but I have felt myself leaning more towards the other dynamic. Hopefully most people don't mind because there are so many Lestappen writers these days so there is definitely plenty of omega Charles to chose from.

I am shocked there is not more Omega Max x Omega Charles though as that seems to fit quite well.

Sorry, I totally rambled there but I am a huge lover of omega and bottom Max and always will be. I am also a huge lover of Max being treated nicely and softly and getting all the attention and affection in the world.

[lou-struck]

The Couple in the Car

Atsumu Miya x reader

Flufftober Day 14- The Couple in the Car

W.C. 1.7k

~ Atsumu thought he would impress you by taking you to the drive-in for a scary movie date… But apparently, the universe had some other plans. 

The sun is setting, and you are thankful that you are warm inside Atsumu's car. Staring out the window, you squint into the light of the setting sun that just a month ago would still be in the sky.

"What's playing tonight?" you ask as your boyfriend pulls down the little gravel road to the drive-in, his warm car filled to the brim with fuzzy blankets and all your favorite movie snacks. 

"The Hammer, I think," he says, trying to play it cool, but you read your boyfriend like a book. That slight curve in his lips tells you that he is really excited to watch this notoriously scary slasher film with you. 

You pull up and see the headlights of at least a hundred cars parked in the stalls. "Wow, it's busy tonight."

"No kiddin," he comments dejectedly. And you know he feels guilty for picking you up so late this evening. Your heads are on swivels as you drive through the packed lot until an attendant drowning in a large hooded sweatshirt comes up to you holding a flashlight. A thick scarf covers his chin, protecting his face a bit too well from the evening air as he waves you over to a spot at the very back of the theater. 

"Hey man, are there any closer?" Atsumu asks disappointedly. 

"Not tonight; this is the only place I could fit you guys in." He says, not meeting your gaze as he turns and quickly walks off. 

"I'm sorry baby, this is my fault." He frowns, his background playing sports having taught him the importance of being better than on time for everything. "I would've picked ya up earlier, but Samu borrowed my keys and had to work late."

"It's really not that bad, Tsumu," you say, looking at the screen. "We can still see the movie really well from back here." you grab his hand resting on the center console and give it a comforting squeeze. "Plus, we have so much privacy back here. It's almost like we have the place to ourselves."

With that little tidbit, he brightens up and grins, "Yeah, we do," he winks, sliding an arm around your shoulder. "Now I heard this thing is pretty scary, so feel free to hang on to me nice and tight if ya get scared. 

"I'll keep that in mind," you laugh, pressing a teasing kiss to your boyfriend's lips. Just as the movie begins to play.

~

Maybe this movie is a bit too much for the oldest Miya twin. Ever since 'The Hammer' took his first victims, a young couple who chose the wrong night to go up to the small town's lookout point, your boyfriend has had a tight grip on your hand. 

Although he's not in the movie, he flinches at every corner, his mind anxiously awaiting the next jump scare. You are torn between watching the movie or the little show he's putting on for you. 

The Main girl's friend creeps through the winding basement with her flashlight, looking for clues and her impending doom. When suddenly, a rat scurries across her foot.

While the rest of the drive-in hears her scream, you can only hear Atsumu's

"Are you alright, Tsumu?" you ask as he places his hand on his chest and slows his erratic breathing. 

"Y-yeah, i-i'm fine." he lies, slightly, releasing the death grip he has on your hand. "Just spooked a bit, I guess." he looks so ashamed, even more so when he realizes that in his panic, he knocked over his drink, and it is currently spilling onto one of the blankets he packed. 

. "Oh no, that's getting everywhere," you say, opening the glove box hoping to find some napkins but find only an old pack of gum and his car's owner's manual.

"Stay right there, I'll go get some paper towels from the concession stand and wipe this up," you offer, getting up from your seat, but he is quick to stop you.

"What are you doing?" he says with wide eyes, "Stay in the car, haven't ya been watching?"

You are touched by his concern but know that if you don't get this cleaned up, the mess is gonna get worse. "It's fine, but if you're worried. How about you go with me for protection?

He swallows nervously but nods, walking you to the snack counter.  The line snakes around the corner and you feel thankful that your boyfriend planned ahead and brought you all of your favorite snacks. 

"Here they are," you say, taking a handful of paper towels from the condiments counter. Atsumu regards the stand with interest. 

"Do ya need anythin?" he asks. 

"Only you," you grin, grabbing onto his strong arm. 

"Yer cute." he chuckles, feeling much better than before as you start to walk back to your lonely car. You are almost there when he stops in his tracks. 

"What's wrong?" you ask, worried that he has forgotten something, but he only points to the ground. A single long Iron nail has been struck precariously into the dirt, just like what the killer does in the movie and you are hit with a wave of uneasiness. 

That wasn't there before…

"That's weird" you say, putting on a brave face, casually stepping over it. "Is this someone's idea of a joke? Someone could trip over that."

"Spooky," He mutters, his hand resting on your lower back protectively as you resume your walk. 

~

"Are you feeling better?" you ask Atsumu during a dull part of the movie. 

"Yeah, much better," he says, running a hand through his blond hair. "Sorry for freakin out earlier, that wasn't very cool of me."

"You know, I don't love you for just your coolness." you tease watching as his face turns from touched to teasing. 

"Aweeee, you loveeee meeee, don't ya?" he winks, leaning in for a kiss. But just before his chocolate colored eyes shut, he stops, looking beyond your shoulder out the car window.

"Did ya see that? I swear I'm not crazy." his hand trembles as he points to the woods; when you turn around, you are horrified to actually catch a glimpse of something moving through the trees. 

"Maybe it's a deer?" you say, not really believing yourself. 

Deer don't walk on two legs. 

"It's the Hammer Man,"… he whispers. The ridiculousness of it all fills your head with doubt. 

"Tsumu, it's just a movie."

"Based on a true story," he says firmly. "They say they never caught the guy. What if he is here tonight wantin' to take revenge on another hot young couple in their car."

You shudder thinking back to the opening kill of the movie. "It's just a movie," you repeat, this time as if you are trying to convince yourself. Atsumu's imagination is like a tornado, beautiful but dangerous if you get caught up in it."

"There he is again." he cries, and you see it this time, a man in a mask walking through the trees. You track his movements until he disappears behind a wall of green, and you try to figure out where he went."

With all your attention on the tree line you fail to notice a new figure creeping up to the window until they slam their fist on your glass. Someone screams (you) as the man in the mask raises his oddly shaped hammer as if ready to strike. 

"Oh no, ya don't," Atsumu says, leaning over your seat, sideling you with his body. His arm files to the door, and he forces it open quickly, sending your would-be assailant to the ground.

"Ouch, that hurt…" a familiar voice groaned, rubbing their head through the mask.

"Stay away from them~" Atsumu grunts, awkwardly climbing over you and getting on top of the killer. 

"Get off me, you oaf," the voice grunts, and you see recognition flash in your boyfriend's eyes as he carefully peels off the mask to reveal his brother…

"Samu?" he breathes, still sitting on his twin's chest.

"Duh… Now move, I can't breathe." the grey-haired twin says, shoving him off. 

"What are you doing here?" you ask, sliding from your car seat. And when you notice the large bump on your future brother-in-law's head, you almost feel bad.

Almost

He looks almost apologetic as he looks up at you, "Hey, y/n. Uhh sorry about that. We had planned on scarin Tsumu when ya went to the bathroom or somethin, but we got tired of waitin'."

"You bastard," Atsumu says, but you are more focused on his response.

"We?" you ask, hoping for a bit more clarification. 

"Hey hey hey, guess who got pranked?" a loud voice calls from behind the car. Atsumu's teammate, Kotaro Bokuto, leaps out of the darkness, holding a mask identical to the one Osamu had been wearing. He must've been the one running through the trees earlier. 

"I helped too," the attendant from before says, removing his hood and large scarf to reveal Shoyo Hinata.

"You guys were all in on this?" Atsumu asks, looking much better

"Pranked ya,"  Bokuto says, slinging an arm around his friend. "And it was all Samu's idea."

"The owner of the drive-in owed me a favor," Osamu explains with a devilish grin. "So he let me borrow the back row of the theater, and I made sure ya ran late to pick up y/n." He looks so proud of himself for putting this all together that if you weren't still catching your breath, you would applaud him for his creativity.

"You guys are jerks," your boyfriend says, twisting out from under the large spikers' arms to hold on to you. "Are ya okay babe?

You nod, "Just excited, I think; they got us good."

"Thanks for being such a good sport about this y/n," Hinata says, fiddling with his disguise. "You're super cool."

"Thanks," you grin. "So, whose idea was it to put that nail into the ground over there?"

At your question, the three men go silent. Until they ask the scariest question of the evening. 

"What nail?"

Tagging: @pixelcafe-network

[wanderingblindly]

Boo!👻 Trick or treat!!

TRICK OR TREEEEAT HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!

Admittedly, I had no idea what to do for this one, so shoutout to an anon for giving me some direction!

Cat Got Your Tongue?

"Don't look behind you, but --"

Logan immediately turns his entire torso, craning his neck to look at everyone in the bar. Oscar groans, burying his face in his hands. "Oh!" Logan perks up, turning to look back at Oscar with those bright, excitable blue eyes. "You like the cat guy?"

"I said don't look," Oscar mumbles, but Logan keeps going.

"Go get his number."

"What?" Oscar looks up, eyebrows shooting towards his hairline. "I can't -- what are you even? No. Logan, seriously, don't make that face." Logan continues to make a face, wiggling his brows. "Logan."

"Oscar."

"Look at him --"

"So? Bagged that model in Spain, mate --"

Oscar makes an exasperated noise, furrowing his brows. "What's that got to do with this?"

"Do whatever you did then!"

"I didn't do anything, I just kinda. We just talked, I dunno."

"Then go 'just talk' to Mr. Black Cat over there, c'mon." Logan leans forward, elbow resting on the bar. "I'll give you twenty."

"Thirty."

"Forty."

It breaks the tension, Oscar rolling his eyes with a chuckle. "Drive a hard deal, mate."

Logan shoves him, nodding over his shoulder -- urging Oscar to go.

******

They make eye contact before Oscar makes his way across the bar, the other man's eyes lighting up for a moment before darting away -- focused back on his friend. Focused back on Oscar. Flitting away to look down at the bar, lashes fluttering coyly.

Oscar's stomach twists.

This was a terrible idea.

He's gorgeous, even with the fuzzy black cat ears and smudge of black on his nose, the uneven whiskers drawn haphazardly on his cheeks. It somehow makes him more unapproachable, the fact that he looks like something out of a magazine cover despite the lazy costume, the piss-poor execution.

He looks back up at him as Oscar starts to loiter in his group's space.

The corner of his lips tilt up, he bites at his lower lip.

But Oscar can't say anything, shell-shocked by his... everything up close. His curls, the darkness of his lashes, the sharp look in his gaze.

His friends notice his distraction, the two of them -- donning matching dog ears -- turn with raised brows.

"Cat got your tongue?" He calls over to Oscar like a siren, voice cutting through the bar's noise with ease.

"I -- um. I'm sorry, I just, erm. Well," Oscar stutters, feeling his face flare hot, the tips of his ears on fire as the group continues to stare. "My friend, he think's you're -- he's over there, he's turned around so you can't really... see him." He points lamely over his shoulder. "Anyways, he thinks you're cute. Wanted me to tell you."

Oscar starts to turn, ready to bolt back to Logan and urgently inform him that they need to leave. They need to leave and never come back, maybe break their lease and flee the city, but the man stops him with a laugh.

It's an honest to god giggle, high and awkward, with a smile that lights up his entire face.

"Your friend thinks that, huh?"

Oscar's fairly certain his entire face is glowing with flush. "Yeah, he's sat kind of, you know, over... there."

The man makes a face at his friends before looking back to Oscar, eyes unsubtly moving up and down his body. "Why don't you and your friend come sit with us for a bit?"

[stabbyfoxandrew]

Hiii

Yes this is me requesting some more arsonist Neil/firefighter Andrew for the upteenth time but I just love them xD

I slept very little last night but I woke up to today's part and it made the morning bearable so thank you

I hope you have a good week! :D

WIP Wednesday (10/23) | Arsonist Neil / Firefighter Andrew AU (Part 250)

"Oh, just look at that smug bastard. He knows he's getting away with murder." 10 gripes, as if Andrew isn't watching. But he is watching and said smug bastard is indeed a smug bastard, standing with his arms crossed like he's untouchable while the officials review the footage. They come back, agreeing that the trip wasn't intention and 10 huffs out an angry little sound. "It was so. I hope Moreau puts him on his back."

Andrew snorts at that. Because, in the Jaguars' little three-man huddle, that's probably exactly what he's threatening to do. Andrew can almost hear his voice, accent and all: 'If that motherfucker tries to trip either of you, I'll break his neck'.

Jeremy puts his hand on Moreau's chest, grinning while he talks: 'Don't do that, babe. Just knock him out.'

'Hey,' Kevin shakes his head and points to the scoreboard. 'No killing and maiming. This is exy, the greatest sport in the world. Blah, blah, blah, I'm Kevin, blah, blah.'

Suddenly 10 laughs, a cacophony of pretty noises. "Oh my God, are you doing voices for them?"

Andrew's entire body goes warm with embarrassment. He stares at his phone, then coughs. "...No."

"Yes you were! That's so fun. Do it again." 10 says, smiling through the speaker. Andrew looks back at the screen where the camera is now pointed at the Panthers' goal for some reason. The only person in frame is the goalie and Andrew knows the goalie mind well. It's likely she's thinking about anything but the game.

"I wonder how giraffes give birth. Fuck, I want pizza. Where'd Diaz go? Oh, there he is. Hi Diaz. When's the game starting back? Do you belieeeeve in life after love? I can feel something—" The camera cuts back to the Jaguars, the whole team is gathered around Kevin who has a whiteboard in his hand.

"I'm Kevin Day and this is how you draw a cat. First you start with a circle, wait no this is a line. Maybe this time, nope. Another line. Skinny cat it is—" The buzzer sounds and Kevin drops his whiteboard as his team starts to file back onto the court. Andrew lets the silly voice fall away to hear 10 losing his mine with laughter on the other end. It warms him in a different way, embarrassment fading to fondness.

"Hey," 10 says as he recovers. "Do you think Kevin could draw a cat?"

"I don't think Kevin could draw a circle unless you told him to draw an exy ball." Andrew answers. Then the two of them fall mostly silent as the game picks back up.

Whether he likes to admit it or not, seeing Kevin in his element is always a thrill. Especially now that he's completely free from the Moriyamas and playing because he loves it and not because he's shackled to the court. (He still lives on it, of course. But he's free to leave when he likes and his stupid boyfriends ensure he doesn't overexert himself. So Andrew supposes they're good for something.)

Kevin scores a goal and 10 cheers like he just won the lottery. Andrew merely huffs. He would've blocked that. Just to be a dick to Kevin. He doesn't miss playing, not at all. Perhaps it's that he enjoys the familiarity of the game. Or just knowing that Kevin playing is justice for all the bullshit he suffered under Riko's and Tetsuji's hands. 

Listening to 10's commentary is new. Andrew enjoys it as well. 10 carries colorful insults and scathing critiques in that pretty mouth of his. Andrew would like to lick them out.

[kyokutsu-sama]

Kokushibo x human!reader| Headcanons

A/n: Kokushibo is my favorite upper moon and I love his personality and everything about him. This is my first work about him and I hope to have the creativity to write more things for him😊

○●•°○●•°○●•°○●•°○●•°○●•°○●•°○●•°○●•°

He doesn't even know how it happened, especially since you were human and he was a demon. But there was something about you from the beginning that caught this man's attention. Maybe because you weren't afraid of him or because of your generosity or respect for him, he doesn't really know but that didn't matter to him. Muzan found out about your relationship, but out of great consideration for the upper moon, he only asked not to bring you to the infinite castle. But he also didn't forbid him from leaving the castle to see you. Even though he hadn't told the other upper moons about you, Douma decided to chase him one night to find out where he was going and ended up finding you. From then on, he started spreading rumors around the castle. He even made a provocation about the subject saying that he would like to know if you would be nutritious. Of course, it didn't take long for Kokushibo to cut off both of his arms and threaten him with his serious eyes. "If you touch her, I'll cut off your arms and then your head, making sure it doesn't regenerate again. Do you understand, Douma?" Kokushibo threatened with his  serious voice "Wow, Kokushibo, calm down. It was just a joke, I wasn't going to do anything to her." Douma quickly put on a face of surrender and a nervous smile Kokushibo is not one to joke around and does not tolerate disrespect, much less towards you. When you're alone at home (outside the infinite castle), he often comes to see you at night to be with you. He's very different when it's just the two of you alone. He's calmer and less serious, his six eyes seem gentler and less scary. Kokushibo asked you a few times if you wanted him to close his upper and lower eyes, leaving only the middle ones open so he wouldn't seem too scary to you, but you didn't mind, telling him he was handsome anyway. It may not seem like it, but his heart softens with these compliments and he loves hearing them from you. He likes having you on his lap, hugging him or stroking his long hair. Your fingers massaging his head makes him feel lighter. He also likes long hugs and always kisses you before he leave. His favorite places to plant kisses are your lips, forehead or neck. He can also be very overprotective to the point that you have to warn him from time to time that he doesn't need to overdo it. On the other hand, he just wants to ensure your protection and well-being. He is very, very loyal to you. He won't admit it, but he thinks it's really cute when you do his hair. Something he didn't let you do in the early days of dating, but after you insisted a lot, he finally gave in. Seeing you happily brushing his hair or tying his hair made him happy too. If he comes home at night and you're already asleep because you're tired from work or something, he'll carry you in his arms to bed (if you happen to sleep on the couch) or if you sleep in the bedroom, he'll just sit there for a moment, stroking your hair or gently caressing your face with his fingers. There are days when he stays there all night, talking about his day, as if you were listening. When the sun starts to show its first signs of peeking out, he gets ready to go back, but before that he gives you a goodbye kiss on the forehead and leaves. He also leaves some notes on the bedside table so you know he was there.

[punchtothestars]

☆ Von Kaiser Headcanons ☆

(Because I truly do feel for this middle aged man who seems like he's slowly falling apart)

TW for mentions of death of a loved one and mental health struggles

He and Glass Joe have been in the WVBA for longer than anyone.

They have a close bond because of this. They've seen each other in their prime, and helped each other through some of their lowest points.

He yells a lot because he's a little hard of hearing. He doesn't always notice how loud he's being.

He has a lot of baggage from a strict, perfectionist upbringing. Mistakes were severely punished growing up, and even though harsh correction of his errors drove him to excel, he carries a LOT of untreated anxiety and stress.

This is why he's so hard on himself when he fails. His twitching and trembling are a physical manifestation of the stress he can't express.

He became a boxing teacher to give kids like he once was an outlet for self-improvement. Though he's stern, he tries to be gentler than his own instructors were.

He's the kind of person who, despite his intimidating aura, rarely ever gets truly angry. He probably yelled out of frustration at a troublesome student once in his life, and felt a huge amount of shame and guilt afterwards. Later on, he would call that kid to his office, apologize, and have a more productive talk.

His students look up to him and even with the occassional teasing, respect him greatly. Despite this, lately he's felt like he's been deteriorating with age. He wants to be strong for them, though.

He's tense a lot of the time without realizing it, so he often gets muscle cramps.

Believe it or not, he had a wife once, but sadly she passed away a little over a decade ago due to illness. When she was around, she would give him shoulder rubs to ease his pain. These days, it's Joe who does it sometimes - and, surprisingly, King Hippo.

Very rarely uses touch as a form of affection. He only lets those who he's close and comfortable enough with touch him, but his main forms of affection quality time and acts of service. Occasionally, words, too.

He wanted to have kids with his wife, but with her passing, he couldn't bring himself to find someone else for a long time. In the coming years, he may open his heart again, and adopt should he choose to have kids.

For now, though, he serves as a guardian figure and role model to his students.

Doesn't smile often, even when he's happy.

This is based on an adorable Animal Crossing comic someone made (i'll credit them when I remember) but: I like to think his students got him into Animal Crossing when it came out on the Switch.

Maybe they were playing it during free time and they let him have a go at it, and something about the gameplay loop and the relaxing vibe just captivated him.

He's not even much of a gamer - probably mostly plays shit like puzzle games or word games if anything - but he hops in for a few minutes every day on his Animal Crossing island to decompress.

[captainsophiestark]

Winglets

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2024!

Fandom: Top Gun

Day Twenty-Three Prompt: "We can fix this, I know we can."

Summary: Rooster and his SO are housesitting for Penny while she, Mav, and Amelia are on vacation. A relaxing staycation turns into a schoolwork refresher course when they get a little carried away.

Word Count: 1,578

Category: Fluff, Humor, maybe a little bit of Angst?

A/N: Happy Halloween!!

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"Oh... Bradley."

Bradly hummed, his face buried in my neck and his arms wrapped tight around my waist. I ran my hands through his hair, tipping my head back further to give him better access.

"Are you still upset that Mav left you home?" I teased, running my hands across his shoulders. Bradley huffed a laugh.

"Nah. I'll trade an extended family vacation for this."

I grinned, then let out a little shriek as Bradley wrapped his arms around my thighs and hoisted me up, moving back towards the counter by the wall. My back hit something, hard, and I didn't think much of it until I heard a concerningly loud crash a moment later.

Bradley and I both froze on the spot. Slowly, without moving any more than we had to, Bradley and I pulled back enough to look at each other. His expression of terror exactly matched the feeling in my chest.

The two of us were having a little couples staycation while housesitting for Mav, Penny, and Amelia. The three of them were going on their first ever vacation as a family, and they'd asked Bradley and I to stay over at their place while they were gone. It'd been a nice break from base housing, and we'd been enjoying some uniterrupted alone time. But whatever that crash had been, it didn't sound good.

My eyes didn't leave Bradley's as he glanced over my shoulder. He paled and swore, and that was enough to get me in motion.

I pushed us both away from the counter, then whirled out of Bradley's arms to see how bad it was for myself. My heart dropped.

Amelia's science fair project, which had been sitting on the counter until a few moments ago, now lay shattered on the floor.

"Holy shit," I breathed, just staring in horror for a moment before finally whirling back to Bradley. "Holy shit! What did we just do?"

He shook his head, grave and still way more pale than normal.

"Amelia's going to kill us. And then Mav's going to kill us. And then Penny."

"We're the worst," I said, turning back to the project and shaking my head. My stomach was still down by my feet, a claw of guilt wrapped tight around my chest. "How did we not notice that? Dammit, out of every single countertop in this house, how did we manage to pick this one?"

I heard Bradley take a deep breath from behind me, and then his arm wrapped around my shoulder. I was ready to shake him off—neither of us should be getting comfort right now—but he spoke before I could say as much.

"Alright, this is bad. But it doesn't have to stay that way. We just have to keep a clear head and be smart."

"Baby, I think we're already past the point where being smart could've saved us."

"Not quite."

His hand dropped from around my shoulders, and he moved to crouch next to the broken science project. He picked up a few of the bigger pieces, turning them over in his hands, and then surveyed the poster board that went with it. That, at least, looked mostly still intact.

"We can fix this," he finally said, turning back to me, "I know we can."

"Bradley, it is shattered-"

"It's an airplane aerodynamics project with an arts and crafts execution. I'm a Navy pilot and I've seen you build an F1 car model without the instruction manual. This is exactly our experise."

I closed my eyes and sighed, trying to get a little space from the guilt and panic to think clearly. Bradley was right; the only chance we had to keep this from being a complete and total disaster was to stay calm and be smart. I took a few deep breaths, and when I opened my eyes again, the panic had been mostly replaced by a steely determination.

"Alright. Alright, you make a good point. Let's give it a try."

"Great! Come help me pick up all these pieces, we can set up on the kitchen table. We've still got a day before they get home."

"It took Amelia like two weeks to put this thing together."

"Yeah, but we're not starting from scratch. Come on, positive thoughts."

*****************

The next several hours were chaos. Bradley and I managed to get all the pieces of Amelia's model airplane wings picked up off the floor, but hardly any of it was salvageable. We set everything on the counter, grabbed some pens and paper, and started planning out the best reconstruciton we could get. Luckily, Bradley had to know quite a bit about aerodynamics as a pilot. With the two of us working together and reading off of Amelia's notes, we managed to come up with a plan for putting things back together exactly as they had been.

Putting that plan into motion was where the real chaos came in.

After a quick run to buy supplies, Bradley and I had turned the kitchen counter into a mad scientist's workstation, with bits and pieces of our project laid out everywhere. I worked carefully to put the airplane wings back together while Bradley directed my placement of the arrows and squiggly plastic pieces denoting airflow, pressure, lift, and everything else Amelia needed to cover in her project.

"Okay, those small spirals go on the wing without the winglets."

"Are they seriously called winglets?" I asked, not glancing up from the project in my hands as I worked.

"Yes. Do you want help?"

"Yeah, hold the wing while I take the glue and our little plastic spiral."

Bradley stepped closer, his hands remarkable steady as I went to work. The spirals were supposed to show the air vortices that formed around the wing tip, and how they impacted lift when the little winglets weren't there to slow down their path. The whole time we'd been working on this project, I'd been impressed. Amelia knew a lot, and she'd found some pretty cool ways to show it.

"Alright, just hold that together for a few minutes," I said, leaning away and setting the hot glue gun down once I was done. Bradley did as I said, resting his forearms on the counter and settling in. I surveyed the rest of the countertop. "We're pretty close to done now, aren't we?"

Bradley looked around too, and I could see him going through his own mental checklist. We'd started this little project just after dinner, and now, we were into the early hours of the next morning with no sleep. It was good for both of us to be double-checking each other.

"I think so," he finally said with a nod. "Although we still have to figure out how to replace the couple of things that got messed up on her trifold."

I waved him off. "Easy. All we have to do is retype it on a laptop, print it out, and stick it back where it belongs."

Bradley nodded again, and I put a hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze before standing from the kitchen stool.

"I'll go knock it out while you supervise the last of our gluing. We're in the home stretch."

He shot me a tired smile, and I headed to the living room to quickly replace the missing pieces of the trifold. Thankfully, we didn't run into any new complications as we put everything back into its final place. The sun was just starting to come up outside, but when Bradley and I stepped back from the counter, his arm around my shoulders as we admired our work, it looked perfect.

"I can't believe we actually managed to pull that off," I said, huffing a laugh and shaking my head. Bradley squeezed my shoulders, and when I glanced at him, I found him grinning at me.

"I can. We did a great job."

I smiled. "Yeah. Crazy, but we do really make a good team."

He leaned down to place a soft, sweet kiss on my lips. Then, instead of pulling back, he stayed close enough to speak lowly in my ear.

"You know, that was a pretty outstanding parenting move if you ask me. Maybe it's time we-"

"HELL no, Bradshaw," I said, taking a step back with a gentle push on Bradley's chest. "And that's both to having kids right now, and to doing anything more than soft pecks with our hands mostly to ourselves until we get the hell out of this house. We don't have time to fix this whole thing again."

Bradley laughed, pulling me back into his side, and the sound warmed my chest.

"Alright, alright, message recieved. It might be a good idea to wait and see if Amelia notices anything before we celebrate, anyway."

"Welp, we're not gonna have to wait long for that one. Come on, let's go get some sleep before she, Penny, and Mav get home. I'm so tired that if she even glances at me after seeing the project I'll probably crack."

Bradley laughed again as the two of us headed off to the spare bedroom, arms around each other. I'd won the lottery when I'd found him, my perfect wingman in every aspect of life, and I knew he felt the same about me. From science fair projects to beef with coworkers to big life emergencies, there was no one I'd rather have on my side than him.

Even though that love and affection had been the thing to get us in trouble in the first place tonight.

*****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen @misshale21

Top Gun Taglist: @elenavampire21

[x-bee-x]

What's this? A fic from me in the DSMP category because there was canon lore? In 2024?

I was watching or getting ready to watch someone else, I had my follower list open at least, and saw Jack was live and there was something about logging onto the server later in his title and wait what. I knew as soon as I updated some friends about said happenings, I muted the Discord channel I sent it in in case people wanted to talk more about it and maybe sent spoilers later, and I was on here very little because I knew even though I'm not 100% in the fandom anymore and certainly not a fan of all the members, I would like to see it for myself. So I watched the vod the next morning and oh my god.

I did not expect to get literal chills the moment he logged on and the first thing we saw was the bench. And I almost cried when we saw Las Nevadas. And I did cry a bit when we saw Tech's house. Regardless of how much I care about the streamers who were part of that as of late, I did at one point, very much so. This was something I did not expect, it was so nostalgic and emotional and actually warmed my heart a bit seeing so many fans come together during and after it happened. This was a really unexpected and lovely way to tie things up, I thought they kind of were already in all areas for me at least, but I think that this was a good way to finally properly say goodbye.

Epilogue

No warnings

1,438 words

Tommy was. Somewhere.

He wakes up he thinks, he opened his eyes at least, running a hand through his blonde curls.

And.

He didn't think he was alone this time. Or well, he wasn't always, Tubbo was there sometimes, but this was a different sort of person feeling.

"H-hello?"

He typed into his communicator for the heck of it.

"Hey."

Jack?

"Wh-where have you fucking been?"

"Casino.

Been here for years mate.

Made loads."

He was.

He was in Las Nevadas?

This whole time. This whole time?

Tommy stood at the top of the hill at the entrance of the faux desert and sure enough.

Someone with one blue and one red eye, a head of buzzed hair with a headset on top, a blue short sleeved hoodie, and camouflage pants stood at the bottom.

"Let me bless you, my boy, it's been too long."

He threw a couple of diamonds at the feet of younger, who probably looked just as puzzled as he felt.

"Jack. Seriously.

What happened?"

"What do you mean? I've just been here. Playing roulette."

This whole time? This whole time.

"Wanna know where I've been?

Come with me."

"Hold on, can't leave on a loss, gotta get that big win."

Jack came out eventually, and they walked out of Las Nevadas and along the Prime Path together, he has somewhere to show him.

"It's good to see you."

"You too, man."

"I've been here."

"Here? Under the bridge?"

"Out in the distance. That way.

I've got a house. It's nice."

"I haven't seen anyone for a loooooong time.

Well, maybe Tubbo, every now and again."

Tommy and Jack walked, or well, Tommy walked, and all the sudden Jack's voice became quieter and quieter somewhere behind rather than beside him.

"Me either, casino's been empty.

Honestly, I just steal money from the safe's to gamble with. I could take it all if I wanted, but the thrill keeps me in there.

Gambler's addiction, they call it. One day I'll win big. 99% of people quit before then.

But not me. I'll make it. It's been years, but, it's coming."

He turned his head to the boy with heterochromia behind him, blonde waves bouncing lightly.

"You're not very good at catching up, are you?"

"Just telling my story, man."

Jack said while he jogged to be once again beside him.

"Never thought I'd be around these parts again. I moved far from here to get away from it.

It brings back too much. Joy, fun, sadness, pain. Too much of all of it.

But it's nice to see a familiar face."

The path they took to get to their destination was familiar, and this time he knew it was safe as well as convenient, no one with a mask he had to worry about being on the other side, or worse yet, chase him.

A bridge of cobblestone among the dark red brick and close to unbearable heat, from one swirling purple transparent gateway surrounded by obsidian to another, and they were spot out onto a soft cold white blanket.

"I don't live around here."

"Oh. I thought that's where we were going?"

"No, god no. Do you know how long it took for me to get back here?

I come here a lot though"

A house, a cabin to be exact, sat the same as them in the nearby distance.

It was cream colored with chestnut colored accents, a matching wooden roof and front door, and a chimney that stood tall and sat bare, no plumes of smoke emitted which once came from it.

"Cool. It's quaint. I like it.

Maybe I'll bye it when I win big!"

Tommy looked to the older boy with two colored eyes beside him, opened his mouth but decided against saying anything, then opened it again to say something after all.

"This is Technoblade's house."

"Oh. Maybe I won't do that then."

"How long do you usually sit here like this?"

"As long as I need to.

Sometimes minutes. Sometimes hours."

There were areas of fences close by on the surrounding property, the occasional bray or bah or grunt echoed through the air, and sat in the otherwise quiet.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure. Hit me."

Tommy fidgeted with the fingers on one hand in his lap as he found the right words and considered them being actually spoken.

"Do you ever.

Like, despite all the war, and the fighting, and all the- well, all the mess- how much it sent me a fucking mess.

Do you ever miss it? Those days? The people? Or, well, the way they were. The way it all was."

Jack looked at him, something like softness in his features.

"Sure. It was all a bit much at times, and I'm not sure I'd wanna do it all again.

But I miss it sometimes. It was fun, really."

"Yeah, I don't think I'd do it all again either. But. I don't know, I've tried to move on. My little cottage far away, my humble paradise. But that trails a lot into my mind."

"I think it trails onto all of our minds sometimes, wherever we all are.

But we all have to move on, find our own destiny sometime."

"Okay. Phew. I'm glad it's not just me."

"Chasing the win keeps me happy.

I like who I am now, probably more than I was. But that doesn't mean he was bad."

"You like being a gambler? Over an incompetent fight loser?"

Jack laughed, soft and genuine, and Tommy fidgeted a bit harder.

"I guess they're not great options are they."

"Sorry, that was a bit harsh, I don't see many people."

"One of them means I might win someday, I was never gonna win back then."

His face held that expression again, soft, almost sad maybe.

"I've still got my one life. One canon life.

And I intend to use it the best way I can."

"What do you mean? How do you wanna use it?."

"You know. I've not got a clue.

But I'll figure that out later.

For now, I've got my cottage, and my new pet! Oh she's adorable. Mareep, she's a little sheep I caught.

But you know, things are okay for me.

Tubbo and his fucking bees I see also every now and then. He's doing pretty well for himself. Selling fucking honey."

"Oh, that's good. I thought he exploded when I blew up everything.

I can't actually die I don't think, so I never know whether these things are bad for everyone else or not."

"I guess being the president of L'Manberg teaches you a few logistical things, aye?

Not that either of us would know anything about that."

"Well."

"Well."

"I haven't seen anyone else besides Tubbo."

"Yeah, you two are hard to separate."

"Tell me about it."

"I think I like it that way for now though.

The quiet life."

"Quiet is nice. This is nice."

"It's good to see an old face though. I know I said it before, but it really is."

Tommy pushed himself up and off the snow beneath them, a couple joints popped, Jack did the same, they stayed standing with the cabin behind them.

"Well, I can't stay for long, I've gotta do things like feed Mareep."

"Yeah, I got some places to see, now that I'm out.

Haven't left there in a while, probably should go check on some things."

"Is there anything else you wanna ask me? I have no questions for you."

Jack looked like he might have something to say, but was going through the roster of words in his mind, carefully considering them.

"Are you happy?

I guess that's really all I'd care to know."

Tommy opened his mouth to respond, closed it, gave a whisper of a smile, ran one of his hands along his pant leg in a partial fidget and a partial way to rid himself of the cold, then opened it again.

"Getting there."

They both nodded gently.

"I'm glad."

"It's good to see you, Jack."

"It's good to see you too, Tommy."

"I hope you get that big win someday.

Oh, and hey. Don't let anyone bye this house."

"I won't."

"I might not see you again. But I hope to lhear about it if you win big."

That's okay. You will. I can deal with just knowing that you're happy."

Tommy held out a hand.

"So long J Money."

Jack shook it.

"Bye Big T."

They both looked to the cabin once more, gave a two finger salute, and went their separate ways along the snowy path.

[dailyloopdeloop]

DAY 71: shy