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justkending · 4 months

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Mr. & Mrs. Hunt (Chapter 2)

Series Summary: Two of the most stubborn people in the group partnered together for an undercover mission are also the two people with the most hatred for each other, so what could go wrong? Or is it, what COULDN’T go wrong?…

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger Reader

Word Count: 3900+

A/N Note: You guys... Thank you for the overwhelming support on this series. You guys are the sweetest :) I've loved reading your series and promise I love them; just haven't had the chance to respond! Again, thank you for the love, as it's all turned back to you!

As for the chapter... Let's make it more fun (otherwise known as interesting) ;)

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Bucky’s POV

Hidden bugs weren’t new business to us, so after disposing of the picture frame, they gifted us with a note saying, “For your new home, and your first picture in it! ;)”... It was an easy ‘accidental’ drop.

However, quickly after that, wouldn’t you know it? A new basket showed up on our porch with another set of welcome-to-the-neighborhood gifts from the whole neighborhood this time…

Y/N had ‘accidentally’ placed the newly potted plant, that they had somehow added a very impressively hidden camera on, too close to the edge of the entryway table, so when she came through the door quickly with her arms full of more boxes, the pot was no longer usable. Shame… We did buy our own pot for said plant, so we still got a new piece of greenery without the bugs.

After those two failed attempts, we hoped our show of clumsiness warded off the assholes and made us less intimidating. And yes, I use that word because I could read easily from our first meeting that they were sizing us up. Analyzing our act and manipulating themselves into our lives in a careful yet planned manner.

For extra measure on the clumsy showcase, Y/N drove into the trashcans I had forgotten to pull to the curb, making a public display of her character’s clumsiness. Though I later learned she was actually just pissed that I forgot to put them out and found a way for me to pay the consequences in our squabble on the lawn.

A squabble that started out a hundred percent authentic and then turned into a fake makeup season when the neighbors peaked their heads out.

“This jughead would forget his head if it weren’t on his shoulders,” Y/N slapped my chest before patting it harshly and smiling at the seventy-year-old next-door neighbor, Gertrude, who always happened to find her rose bushes interesting, only when people were outside.

She smiled and laughed at Y/N’s wide grin before waving her on as she snipped a few thorns.

“God, I hate it here,” Y/N said through her teeth, holding her fake smile as she walked past me into the house.

A few more preplanned acts happened while we were outside to show the community that our accidental breaking of their bugs was just that—accidental. It was not planned and discovered at all.

It had been two weeks so far, and we’d already been invited to a food truck social, a street parade for a family leaving the neighborhood, and an outdoor movie night. All events you would have thought had the same planning committee as the MET Gala with how thorough they were… At least, that's what Y/N said, and I choose to believe that it holds some form of significance.

Tonight, we went over to another couple's house that was high up in the HOA group for a neighborhood barbeque, one where Y/N’s damn lilac tennis dress she had worn to workout with a neighbor, made more than half the dads and men too old and married to be staring, struggle to keep their eyes off her.

I had told her that keeping a hand on her during most of the party was for the act, but genuinely, I didn’t care for how the men of the group gawked at her. Something gave me a bad feeling about it. And I didn’t understand why Y/N wasn’t phased at all or even slightly uneasy, considering she was just as trained as me to assess and sense all that attention.

As soon as we were behind closed doors back in our secure home, my first question was, “Did you really not feel their eyes on you?”

She was in the middle of taking off her shoes, talking about some information she had gotten from a group of stay-at-home wives, something related to our mission, but I couldn’t seem to wrap my head around how unphased she was with the unnerving type of attention she was getting there.

“What?” She paused as she bent to take off a tennis shoe.

“All those guys, the husbands, and pervs at the cookout. You didn’t notice them staring at you?” I asked again, rolling my sleeves of button-down I had on up to my elbow.

She stared at me for a moment and then rolled her eyes as if she had figured out where I was going with this. Spoiler: she was far off the mark.

“Listen, if you’re saying that thanks to this dress, which, yes, is a little short, but who the hell cares, is the reason why men were,” she straightened, kicking off both her shoes fluently, now only in socks. “Gawking at me, as you put it-.”

“I didn’t say that,” I straightened, furrowing my eyebrows.

“Oh, but you did,” she sassed with a shrug, continuing. “Under your breath when you came up, and you staked your claim by never taking your arm away from my waist for the night.”

“I didn’t say that,” I shook my head. I said it in my head, but I hadn’t said that out loud… Had I?

“Ugh, whether you did or didn’t, I could tell you were judging,” she huffed, rolled her shoulders, and walked past me to the kitchen, going straight to the fridge.

It took me a minute, but I figured out where her mind had gone. “I was judging them, Y/N,” I shook my head. “I was judging the horny, married, and dusty-ass men that couldn’t keep their damn tongue from falling to the floor with you in the vicinity. Like their wives had deprived them of any kind of physical touch for the last decade, and they couldn’t keep it in their pants any longer.”

I realized I may have explained more of my thought process than I intended, but she shut the fridge door she had hidden behind and turned to me, scanning, assessing.

“You were jealous.” The corner of her lip raised at her statement.

“What?” I scoffed. “No, loser,” I scoffed again, and clearly, I wasn’t selling my answer because she didn’t lose her growing grin. “I just took notice of how much attention you got, and it concerned me that the ideas most of those men were having were far from civil ones.”

She stared at me for a minute, and I felt uncomfortable in my own skin as she weighed her options regarding how she wanted to react. We still had plenty of fights, but they have been somewhat decreasing lately, and I was hoping we could keep that streak going.

Her assessing stopped, and her grin grew again. “Awe, the Tinman does have a heart.”

And she ruined it. Surprise, surprise.

“It’s sweet that you care, old man,” she twisted the lid to the drink she had pulled out of the fridge and took a swig before looking at me. “But that’s just a day in the life of a woman. Nothing new to me or anyone with the double X chromosomes.” She shrugged nonchalantly.

“I mean, obviously, people look at you,” I started, and she balanced her elbows on the counter before resting her chin on her fist. I continued before I realized my wording. “Before you-”

“Obviously?” She emphasized my word choice. “Keeping notes on an awful lot of things lately, huh, Buck?” she whispered my name like it was a secret, and I knew it was for the odd case someone could hear us, but something about her tone made my chest freeze. “Tell me, what else do you notice…?” She tilted her head one way as she stared at me.

I wasn’t going to lie and say her words didn’t flustered me, but as a reflex, I jumped back into the normal banter.

“You’re not funny, jackass,” I deadpanned and turned on my heel to walk away.

“Oh, stop being such a baby,” she shouted after me, and I heard her sock-clad feet slide on the hardwoods to catch up with me. “Listen, I think it’s nice you’re taking notice of stuff like this. Most men never pay attention to those kinds of things because they don’t have to. It’s not really a normal day-to-day experience for them, so they don’t get it. They don’t HAVE to get it.”

I stopped and turned in my march, and she slid into me from just two steps behind me. I caught her easily, bracing my hands on her biceps to steady her. She let out a huff of air as our chests flushed to each other and then looked up at me.

“You’re murder strut is too fast for me to keep up with,” she mumbled, scrunching her nose in a relaxed way.

I closed my eyes for a minute but didn’t let go of her before I channeled back my seriousness.

“I’ve learned men are assholes, trust me. In this field, we come across some of the worst misogynistic weasels to exist. Wear whatever you want. You have scary dog privileges now. The attire issue isn't what I was getting at,” I replied, thinking of the reference the Parker kid had explained to me recently.

Her smile was unlike any I had the pleasure to be on the receiving end of, and I immediately mentally captured it, worried that I’d never experience the genuineness she was sharing with me in this moment again.

“Scary dog privileges, huh? Someone’s been brushing up on their TikTok trends.” She laughed, scanning my face as I scanned hers. “Peter finally invested in his version of Duolingo? This one labeled new-age-slang-for-100-years-and-older?”

“Actually called, Born-in-1910’s-and-on-the-comeback-of-a-70-year-coma-new-age-lingo. Very helpful,” I retorted, and the surprise on her face as she laughed at me made my grip on her soften, my thumb unconsciously running over the bone on her wrist.

The action brought both of our eyes to the feeling, and in the next second, we had three feet between us.

“I’m going to go take a shower.” Her rush to get around me in the narrow hall caused her to brush along my arm, and it was like the sparks that ignited when I held her tried to reach out for each other again in the brief contact.

“I’ll be in the kitchen,” I grumbled, walking quickly in the opposite direction.

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Y/N’s POV

The last two weeks have been frustrating, but somehow, Bucky and I have learned we work together surprisingly well. We still had our bickering fights and annoying quarrels, but stick us in a house for a few weeks, and we realized we did well at balancing each other out.

Where I hated doing the dishes, he made sure they were done every night. Where he hated doing laundry, I folded and sorted the linens and clothes. I hated cooking, and he somehow was really good at it. I loved to bake when we had free time, and he loved to taste test. I sucked at most things gardening-wise, and he had shown me how to prune overgrown flowers in our gardening bed. Bucky sucked at interior decorating, so I was in charge of making our fake abode look like a real one.

Overall, we do pretty well, considering we hate each other's guts. Ok, well… I don’t necessarily hate his guts, even if I act it. I just have a very low tolerance for his bullshit and don’t mask my frustrations when they hit their limits. As for being a fake wife to him where he has to treat me well… He’s been a picture-perfect husband from a suburban wife’s perspective.

The only thing we’ve successfully avoided that I was worried about is sharing the same bed.

After confirming with the higher-ups that our house was bug-free, we claimed our own rooms (me in the master, of course) and set up our own space. Keeping the facade of a happy married couple outside of those rooms and the house was easy, but I dreaded the day we would have to show more affection and closeness than what we already had.

So far, a kiss on the cheek, holding hands, a hug from behind, and a normal amount of PDA that showed we were in our honeymoon phase yet did not want to make others fully uncomfortable did the job enough. But after Bethanne commented about when we planned on having kids, I figured we might need to bump up our act since she gave a passive comment about us being ‘rather tamed for a newlywed couple.’

Before I could bring up the comment to Bucky once we got home, he seemed more bothered by the men at the party than anything.

I didn’t expect him to notice such a minute thing, but if there was one thing I had learned about Bucky these last few weeks, it’s that he’s very attentive to details I wouldn’t expect him to be on.

Then, to further my confusion about the situation, something seemed different in our intimate hallway space run-in, and both of us scurried away as if the touch of each other burned.

After my shower, I got dressed in my pajamas and heard the TV still on in the living room, where Bucky tended to station himself for a few hours before bed. Well, his bedtime. Another thing about us was that I wasn’t much of a night owl, but I did appreciate knowing someone was on alert while I slept. And even if he didn’t do it for that reason, I’m sure, I liked hearing the TV still on when I tended to wake up in the middle of the night. I felt safer…

“Hey,” I leaned against the wall coming into the living room and saw that he had Brooklyn Nine-Nine on with a computer sat in his lap.

He looked up and gave me a quick head nod before going back to the screen in front of him. “What’s up?”

“Just needed to fill you in on some of the things I learned at the cookout,” I let out a yawn as the day caught up with me and moved to the single chair across from him on the couch.

“Hit me,” he rolled his shoulders back, never looking away from the blue light.

“Don’t ask for things you don’t really want,” I teased, and he looked above the screen at me with a glance that seemed to be holding back a smile before rolling his eyes.

“What’d you learn?” he followed up with.

I went on to tell him about the neighborhood drama. All things that may or may not have any major plays to our mission, but information nonetheless.

“Did you ask any of them about work?” Bucky asked once I had covered most everything.

Our undercover jobs were simple. I worked from home as a data entry clerk. Something boring that Charolette Hunt has been hoping to get out of and find her passion. All this led to me asking around about job connections and if there was anything I could swap over to for a ‘more exciting work life,’ otherwise known as drug trafficking jobs if they were available.

As for Beau Hunt, Bucky’s cover, he was the owner of a transportation company. Considering how well he was doing, he took the last two weeks off to move into his first home with his new wife before having to get back into the work ethic he had been thriving in the last ten years.

All perfect pieces to get the answers and resources from our sketchy neighbors we came here for.

“I asked Katrina, one of the wives of a guy who works closely alongside Reggie. I figured that was a good seed to plant,” I answered, pulling my legs up to my chest and resting my chin on my knees as I watched Jake Peralta chase a bad guy down the streets of New York. I missed the homeland. “She said she’d ask around, which is what I needed. What about you? Any of the 'dusty-ass husbands' have fun details to share?”

“Nothing more than statistics of sports teams and rookie starters for the state college basketball team,” he sighed, and I turned over to see him staring at me before turning back to his computer quickly. “Reggie was giving me a hard time, though.”

“Oh yeah?” I hummed, angling myself to him. “Bethanne was giving me a hard time, too.”

“Think it’s related to the same thing?” Bucky chuckled, looking back at me, but whatever was in his eyes just seconds ago was gone now.

“Say on the count of three?” I smirked.

“One,” he nodded.

“Two.”

“Three.”

“When we’re going to consider joining parenthood,” Bucky said.

“When we’re having kids,” I said at the same time. “Almost a jinx if you didn’t word it so damn robotically. Did fucking Vision channel into your damn cyborg brain?” I laughed, and I heard a slight scoff from his direction before I rolled my head back and looked up at the ceiling. I stayed quiet until Bucky broke me out of my thoughts twenty seconds later.

“What are you thinking?” I heard the computer shut and then be placed on the cushion next to him. “I can hear the gears working past their limit.” His weak version of a retort.

I lulled my stare at him and deadpanned a bitchface at him. “You talking to yourself again?” He rolled his eyes at my comeback, and I decided to bypass the banter. “I think we need to step our game up. Ms. Bethanne thinks we’re ‘tamed’ for a newlywed couple. In other words, she thinks we’re prudes.”

“We’ve hit the PDA marks we need to,” Bucky stiffened just enough for a trained eye to see, but he tried to brush it off as getting comfortable in his spot.

“Hmm, so maybe one of us is a prude,” I shrugged, moving my legs under me and leaning on one side of the chair.

We hadn't kissed, although I would peck one on his cheek, and he would place one on top of my head. But that's as far as either of us had been willing to go.

I know our job may require us to go beyond that, and I was willing to keep it strictly professional even if necessary, but Bucky seemed to want to avoid it by all means. Message received.

“I’m not a prude. I just don’t understand why people have to be so touchy in public. It makes everyone uncomfortable,” he argued.

“Not everyone finds discomfort in those acts. A lot of people think it’s cute.”

“I’m not one of those fucking people.”

“Well, you better figure out pretty fucking quick how to become one of those people because this operation kinda depends on it.” I sighed, standing up and stretching. “Listen, I know you hate me and all, but if we’re going to get this done and over with, we need to-”

“I’ve never said I hate you,” Bucky interrupted. I looked down and saw him staring at me with stern eyes.

“Actions have convinced me otherwise.”

“The same could be said for you.”

“I don’t hate you,” I clarified after carefully studying him for lies.

It was an intense stare-off, but not one where I felt like I had to win it. One where I felt we were both taking a step into new territory, and neither of us knew what to expect.

Bucky’s burner phone rang right before I could follow up with my peace offering, and we saw it was the fake caller ID Steve was under. He picked it up and put it on speaker.

“What’s up, punk?” he answered, and Steve scoffed on the other end.

“Just your biweekly check-in. Anything interesting enough to make this phone call longer than 5 minutes?” he asked.

“Don’t think so,” Bucky sighed and filled him in on the steps we had taken to further the investigation. Planting our gossip seeds where necessary and waiting for the garden to grow.

The call ended with Steve informing Bucky that he ‘started back at work’ tomorrow and would need to go to a specific meeting spot for updates. A way for us to get news that couldn’t be tracked with phone calls and messages. And after two weeks of gathering information and only four check-ins in that time, things were meant to pick up now.

I had decided to head back to my room when a normal conversation between the two started up and strayed from the mission talk. Then, about 10 minutes later, Bucky was in my doorway as I got ready for bed.

“Sorry, Steve wanted to know if we had torn each other’s heads off yet. Nat and him have a bet going,” he said, leaning on the doorway and crossing his arms over his chest.

I shrugged, pulling the comforter back on the bed. “No need to apologize. And who’s winning?”

“Steve gave it 3 weeks, so he’s still in the running.”

“He’s being generous,” I laughed, fluffing a pillow before sitting on the edge and looking at him.

“I don’t know. I think we’ve managed to stay surprisingly civil given our relationship,” he smiled softly as if the conversation wasn’t dangerous grounds and could easily go one way or the other.

“Helps that we have to act for most of it,” I fiddled with my nails.

“Would you rather we didn’t get along?” he asked, and I could see the start of our normal frustration with each other trickle back into his tone.

I stared at him for a minute. Not sure what my goal was here, but it definitely had flipped from wanting to make every minute with him, his own personal hell.

“Fighting has become tiresome. I’m content tolerating the situation.” A bit of a hypocritical response, sounding robotic, but there was no lie behind it.

He stared at me like I had to him.

“Right. Tolerating,” he nodded with pursed lips, pushing off the door frame and walking down the hall to his room.

Something about his attitude made it hard for me to brush off the change in tension. I stood up and walked down the hall. When he was already in his room, I was taking up as much space as I could in his doorway now.

“What’s with the annoyance?” I asked, looking at him as he arranged some things on his nightstand. He turned around, body lax and almost defeated looking.

“I’m not annoyed. Why would I be annoyed with you ‘tolerating me’?” he said nonchalantly with a shrug of his shoulders.

“I don’t know, but you clearly are,” I gestured to him and crossed my arms. “Would you rather I treat you how I have before this? I mean, we can go back to-”

“Obviously not, Y/N,” he cut me off with a scoff, and I was shocked at the sheer anger that I would suggest such a thing. His use of obviously made my brain scramble as well… The second time, that word had messed with me tonight.

“You’re confusing as hell, Barnes,” I squinted my eyes at him and decided I wasn’t in the mood to handle a bipolar 100-year-old man tonight. Maybe it was best if I just called it a night.

Turning in my spot four steps away, I didn’t expect the hand around my bicep to stop me in the middle of the hall, leading to a pensive look on his face as he stared at me.

“What?” I furrowed my eyes at him and looked at the contact unwavering on my elbow.

“I—” he started and then stopped. An internal war played out with surprising clarity on his face. I raised my eyebrows and waited.

We stared for an hour—okay, nine seconds—but it’s all the same with that level of intensity.

“Never mind.” He dropped my arm and took a step back.

“Seriously?”

“I don’t want to start something.”

“There’s something to start?”

“No, but I’ll wait until you’re in a better mood to,” he debated on his wording. “Discuss it,” he settled on, turning on his heel.

“I’m not in a bad mood,” I huffed, and yeah… That didn’t help proving my point.

“Sure thing,” he shook his head before walking into his room, carrying on as if he hadn’t dropped a strange and confusing bomb on me that I now needed answers to.

“Goodnight to you, too,” I grumbled as I walked to my room and shut the door behind me.

Marvel Tags:

@thejourneyneverendsx @death-unbecomes-you @mythos-writes @srrymydood @xa-dia @redhairedfeistynerd @morganclaire4 @connie326 @captain-asguard @mollygetssherlockcoffee @teenagedreams-bucky @shower-me-with-roses @livstilinski @basicallylool @starryeyeseunbyul

My Lovelies forever:

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Bucky Barnes Tags:

@chloe-skywalker @charmedbysarge @jbarness @bellamy-barnes @katiaw2 @aikeia @stopjustlovethemcu @enchantedbarnes

Mr. & Mrs. Hunt Series:

@jackiehollanderr @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @theroyalmanatee @wintrsoldrluvr @alexakeyloveloki

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #justkending #marvel series #marvel #bucky barnes series #reader insert #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader insert #bucky barnes x avenger reader #bucky barnes mini series

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lexisecretaccx · 6 months

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Mine 1 - Matt Sturniolo

Masterlist

(Fem reader x Matt Sturniolo, Stalking, Window watching, obsessive behaviour, talk of violence, idk)

A/n: I love Joe Goldberg so I wanted to write a stalker fic and make it about Matt, I know I already have the HSS series going but this one might not be updated as frequently until HSS is finished!❤️

Guys I’ve discontinued this fic i apologise my lovessss

Matt’s POV

There she is, fuck. I’ve been trying to find her for the past 10 minutes, she almost saw me so I had to hide and I lost her. Look at her, smiling and laughing. Does she know what she does to me?

I walk after her, keeping my distance. She lifts her phone to her ear, “hey!” She spoke in a cheerful voice, she’s the happiest person I’ve ever loved. “I’ll meet you at my house!” She replied to whoever she was talking to. But it felt like she was talking to me, telling me she wants to see me, to be with me.

She continues to walk and I follow her, I pull out my film camera and snap a quick picture of her. I need more for my collection.

She walks to her front door, unlocking it with her key, the light from the outdoor lamp illuminating her perfect features. She walks in and closes the door behind her. I sit on a bench across the street and pull out my phone to lower any suspicions, not long after someone walks up and knocks the door. A man.

My jaw clenches, how can she do this to me? All I’ve done is love her, she doesn’t know who I am but still I feel like we’ve known eachother for lifetimes, I know all the things she likes.

She opens the door and hugs him, I feel anger rush through me. I walk around the back to get a closer look through the living room window, I’ve done this before so I know the most inconspicuous spots. They sit on the couch, not too close together so mustn’t be a boyfriend. Thank fuck.

While they turn on the tv I pull the window open the slightest to get a sense of what they are talking about. She never locks her windows, it’s like she wants me to listen to her. “Yeah just wanted to talk about grandma, she’s not right is she.” He spoke, grandma.. they’re related. I let out a sigh of relief and she nods. Her grandma has been struggling with her health.

They talk for a good 20 minutes before he leaves. She sits on her couch and lays her head back. I pull out my camera and snap another photo, I make a mistake by stepping backwards slightly because a twig snaps below my foot and her head shoots up at the window. Shit.

I make a quick decision by walking out from by her window and onto the muddy path behind the houses, she pokes her head out the window and I act confused, dropping my phone as if someone just pushed me. “Hey you!” She yells to me. I look up, “were you looking through my window?” She asks me, fear in her voice.

“What? Of course not, some idiot just ran past me and knocked my phone out of my hand.” I bend down and pick it up. “You okay?” I ask her, finally having the chance to talk to the girl that I’ve been following for a year.

“Yeah, maybe the guy who made you drop your phone was the creep looking in my window.” That word rang through my head, even though she didn’t know it was me, she still called me a creep.

“Maybe I should’ve been watching where I was walking.” I shrug, flashing her a smile, “it wasn’t your fault. What’s your name?” She asks me, I walk closer to her, looking up at her through the window. “Joseph.” I lie, “okay Joseph.. is your phone ok?” She smirks and I flip it over and inspect the screen. “Yep, I’m glad it is because I would’ve hunted him down.” I laugh and she smiles.

“I’m gonna go now, to shower.” She spoke, as if she wanted me to watch her. “Didn’t you shower this-” I cut myself off and clear my throat. “You do that.” I smile as I walk away.

Fuck Matt, your first chance to talk to her and you almost blow it. Fucking asshole. I grab my notepad, out my backpack and start to write. her cousin visited her around 9pm on 10/09/23 to talk about her grandmothers health, which has been declining recently.

I get home and instantly walk into my bedroom, I move the pretty much empty wardrobe out of the way from the room supposed to be a wardrobe, but I use it to store anything I can get about y/n. I open the door and look at the board infront of me. Pictures of her sleeping, walking, eating food with friends, shopping, etc.

I add the photographs from today to the board and smile as I admire her beauty.

I grab a piece of paper, and start to write her a letter.

Y/n,

My love for you is unexplainable no, unlike anything i’ve felt. I don’t want to overdo it with the love confessions as you will see my love for you, proven time and time again. Take these roses, I know they’re your favourite, not the light red ones but the deep red colour just as you like them.

All for you.

Shit is that corny? She’s gonna be scared, maybe she should be. Love is a frightening feeling, I need to go to the store to buy the roses. Hopefully she will appreciate the gesture, but she might freak out. It’s fine.

She doesn’t know the lengths I would go to for her, once someone tried to get her to go home with him when she was drunk and she said no, he kept trying and finally gave up. I made sure he could never do that to someone again, especially my love. So I carved the word, pervert into his forehead.

Nobody, can ever touch her except me.

She’s mine.

Y/n’s POV

I hop out the shower, making sure all my curtains are closed, I don’t want another creep to spy on me. I dress into my matching satin red pyjama set.

It’s been about an hour since that creep was by my window, I brush through my wet hair and put on some face cream. As I’m getting into bed I hear a knock on my door. “It’s 11pm..” I sigh to myself and put slippers and a dressing gown on.

I walk down my stairs before opening my door, nobody is there but I look down and see a bouquet of roses and a letter, closed by a red wax stamp. I tilt my head in confusion before picking up the flowers and note and walking inside.

I place the roses on my kitchen counter before opening the letter, it’s handwritten. I read the first line, y/n, my love for you is unexplainable no, unlike anything I’ve felt. My mouth drops open, do I have a secret admirer? I smile to myself at the crossed out word and correction.

I don’t want to overdo it with the love confessions as you will see my love for you, proven time and time again. Whoever this secret admirer is, has a way with words. I feel a sense of happiness wash over me until I read the last sentence. Take these roses, I know they’re your favourite, not the light red ones but the deep red colour just as you like them.

How do they know, are they watching me? All for you. I put the roses in a vase and put them on my shelf before taking the note upstairs with me. I place it on my bedside table.

I can’t help but feel a sense of flattery, whoever this is knows me. And they are in love with me? I wonder if it’s the creep from my window earlier, if so then I take it back.

I turn off my lamp and slide into my comfortably cold covers, before laying my head on the pillow, facing away from my bedroom door.

I hear a noise downstairs but i usually have a draft through my windows.

That is until I hear my stairs creaking..

A/n: did you see what I did there, bro called himself Joseph, Joseph is shorted to… Joe! Litro love stalker Matt, he’s a tad crazy and delulu but we love him all the same.🤍‼️

Taglist: @blahbel668 @mattsleftnipple03 @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @hysteria-things @sturniologurl4l2008 @jakevwebber @braindead4l @mattybearnard @st7rnioioss @junnniiieee07 @sturniolosmind @accio326 @sturniol0s @alwayssublimedelusion @stingerayyy2 @freshsturns

—💋——📷——‼️——💌———❤️———💌——‼️——📷——💋—

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolos #smut #chris sturniolo fanfic #matt

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blissfullybubblez · 3 months

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🌿🌻 Summer Nature Hunt: Let's Explore the Great Outdoors! 🌻🌿

Hello, my adventurous friends! 🌈✨

As the sun shines bright and the flowers bloom, it's the perfect time to embark on a delightful nature hunt! 🌼🔍 Whether you're surrounded by lush forests, sandy beaches, or bustling city parks, there's so much beauty waiting to be discovered. So grab your camera and let's explore together! 📸🌿

Here's your nature hunt checklist:

Flower Power: Seek out vibrant flowers of all colors and sizes. From delicate daisies to bold sunflowers, each one is a work of art waiting to be admired.

Creature Quest: Keep an eye out for little critters scurrying about! Spotting a butterfly fluttering by or a friendly squirrel hopping from tree to tree can bring a smile to your face.

Tree Treasures: Stand tall like the trees and appreciate their majestic presence. Take photos of unique bark patterns, interesting leaves, and any critters making their homes in the branches.

Rockin' Rocks: Look down and discover the beauty beneath your feet. Smooth stones, sparkly gems, and interesting rock formations are waiting to be found.

Waterside Wonders: If you're near water, explore the shoreline for shells, pebbles, and other treasures washed ashore. Listen to the soothing sounds of flowing water and feel the cool breeze on your skin.

Bird Watching: Keep your ears open for the sweet melodies of birdsong. Spotting colorful birds perched on branches or soaring through the sky can be a magical experience.

Sky Gazing: Don't forget to look up and admire the vast expanse of the sky above. Take photos of fluffy clouds, golden sunsets, or twinkling stars if you're out exploring after dark.

Remember, the goal of this nature hunt isn't just to find things, but to appreciate the beauty and wonder of the natural world around us. 🌟💕 Take your time, soak in the sights and sounds, and capture moments that fill your heart with joy.

Once you've completed your nature hunt, feel free to share your photos with us! We'd love to see the treasures you've discovered on your outdoor adventures. 📸🌼

Happy hunting, my little explorers! 🌿🌻

With love and sunshine, Bubblez🌞🌈

#sfw age regression #sfw agere #sfw agere blog #little moments big smiles #sfw agere community

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painsandconfusion · 1 year

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Entering and Breaking

(tw: gun, break-in, kidnapping, chain, zip-ties, chains, gore mention, cat scratch) [Drabble Masterpost]

Shoutout to @hidden-dreamland for this idea - I just had to write it <3

Too remote.

The burglar knew that.

They knew that they shouldn’t be going somewhere quite this remote - people who live out in the middle of nowhere like this tend to do their own hunting. Which means guns.

But.

It’s an old house. Older car. Well unkempt.

And most importantly no cameras.

Since the burglar had been living large, jumping house to house in the town, not only had people started installing their own security systems, but the fucking city started putting up cameras, too.

It just wasn’t safe anymore. They couldn’t afford to go to jail - they just couldn’t. Too much was at risk.

So. That meant driving. That means rural homes. That meant rural homes that weren’t estates that weren’t crawling with security systems. That means places like this.

Ugh.

The burglar stood in the treeline, watching the owner of the home as they came home - unlucky break, that. Should have gone in while they weren’t there. Of course, the burglar didn’t know they weren’t there at that time.

They watched as the owner moved around a warm-lit kitchen, singing along to music that barely tickled at the air through the windows. Watched as they cooked. Watched them fold laundry and throw a penpoint laser around the room, kitten chasing it.

Strange thing, that kitten.

The burglar could swear it saw them when it sat in the windowsill, wide yellow eyes dilated out into the night. All-knowing, overly saturated whole moons that someone shoved and pushed into the little thing’s skull until it was able to see some desperate little creature sitting in the treetops of a darkened timber, shrouded in leaves with a deflated duffle bag strapped to their back.

Unsettling, that kitten.

Stripes that blended into the blinds until the burglar wasn’t even sure if the cat was there at all. Maybe they were just staring too long into windows.

Regardless, the lights were out for hours before the burglar finally worked up the courage to shimmy down their little pine tree, sap screaming across the front of their black hoodie and catching at their long hair, before their feet hit the ground, greeted by damp, muggy leaves.

They moved to the house as swiftly and simply as they could, sliding a thin, metal ruler into the gap between the window and sill, persuading the latch to oonch a little more little more littttttle more to the right with tiny nudges and taps until it finally popped free.

Carefully, they pressed the window up, careful to touch only the pane, not the glass. It creaked and shuddered as wood ground against wood, but they kept the ascent as smooth as possible.

In a moment, they were able to curl upward, heaving themself over the edge and setting one soft foot onto the hardwood of the living room.

Their eyes skittered around the room, immediately searching for any sign of threat or notice. A flick shocked through their silent body as eyes flashed in the darkness - kitten perched on the piano with those haunting yellow eyes shining at them. Just watching. Uncaring and all knowing.

The burglar swallowed, snugging the window back down to avoid outdoor noises that might alert their victim of their presence.

Carefully and silently, the burglar began to shift through the house. Checking. Stashing. Silver spoons, identified by the tarnish. A slightly outdated but still valuable console. An ipad that they tucked under their arm - not wanting it broken by the other contents of the bag. They needed to wipe it before they left anyway in case there was a tracking option on it.

They moved carefully, plucking up small electronics and…..stepping around the damn kitten that insisted on weaving between their legs as they moved. “Shoo- shoo, I need to nodontgothere-” the burglar groaned as the kitten started climbing up their leg.

They stumbled as a tiny claw dug into their leg, hissing at the pain as they clattered to the ground. Evidently their main priority was cradling the ipad like a baby- keeping it perfectly safe while the burglar landed on a bag full of sharp, cold, and hard. They managed to keep their yell to a minimum as corners and edges bruised into their back and side, pinching the kitten by the scruff and setting them aside.

Floorboards creaked above them, the owner of the house shifting out of bed.

“Fuck-” that was a lot of noise- shiiiiiiiit- they pushed up to standing and slipped into the closest closet they could find, pushing the kitten out after them as the staircase groaned and shuddered under the oncoming footsteps of doom.

The burglar’s breath slammed so hard against their ribs as they stood behind the door they didn’t dare close completely - it would make too much noise to latch, focusing instead on the -fucking KITTEN TRYING TO CLAW IN AFTER THEM - SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHI-

Without thinking much, they found a random, jingly cat toy at their feet and flicked it through the crack between door and pane, holding painful breath in tight lungs as the sound echoed through the moonlit house.

The kitten followed, skittering and pouncing on the fuzzy thing.

The burglar heard a sigh - footsteps wandering up to the kitten. They could barely see a hand reaching into frame, scritching behind the kitten’s ears. The little terror, in turn, rolled over, grabbing and biting playfully at the hand in a viciously harmless attack.

“Precious thing, you need to learn to be quiet at night..” the voice was soft. Groggy from sleep. Clearly a little relieved it was ‘just a kitten’ they heard.

The burglar took a small step back, away from the crack in the door lest the owner glance up and see the streak of light glinting off a wide brown eye through the crack.

Panic snapped through them and their breath caught as their heel dropped into nothing. In a flash, all the burglar could see was them tumbling - stumbling and flailing through the darkness into a cool, cavernous pit of nothing - bones crunching against stone as they hit the bottom.

But they didn’t fall.

Their hand slipped to the side, gripping a wooden rail their instincts must have deemed there.

They turned, eyes wide in the darkness now illuminated by that strip of light.

….not a closet.

Basement stairs. A landing.

The burglar took a deep, shuddering breath.

They were too loud. Breathing too loud. They could swear the owner of the house could hear their heartbeat slamming- echoing off the walls.

They had to get further away.

So..down the stairs they went.

Carefully - so carefully - they stood on the crosses of wood, walking only where they could see nails.

The wood was new. Unfinished. Barely sanded. Handmade.

But strong. Strong and sturdy.

It, blessedly, didn’t creak under their weight as they slowly descended into the darkness.

Foot tapping blindly out at the air on each step, they clutched the duffle bag and ipad close, terrified of dropping either of them and making a clatter. Terrified of hitting the ground before they realized it was there. Terrified of…everything, really.

Their breaths came a little more freely the further they got from the door, quiet, wet pants all but echoing off stone walls. Close. Telling them at least that the space was small. Fairly bare. Mostly for storage, then.

….maybe there would be things there? Family heirlooms or even a safe? People keep shit like that in basements, right?

They could bide their time here while they waited for the owner to fall back asleep - which meant waiting a couple more hours to make sure they were dead enough up there that they could sneak back out the window without the hell kitten waking them up again.

Then they’d get out and it would be fine and no one could call the police and everything would be fine.

Breath choked against their throat as their foot hit a little too hard against concrete - the bottom of the stairs now.

The little colden slit of light didn’t extend nearly far enough. Eyes still adjusting, the burglar reached blindly out in front of them, hand moving through cool, musty air. Touching nothing as they blindly shuffled forward with eyes plastered open - wide with the desperation to see.

They didn’t dare turn on a light - maybe they would if it were one on a dimmer - just to get a little glo- OH-!

They stopped, turning around the ipad in their hands. They pulled the cover around to block the flashlight, at least mostly, then opened it, swiping and flicking on the flashlight option.

A spit of light swarmed out from the area in a small arch, and the burglar clamped their hand down over it.

They just needed a glow. Just enough to know they weren’t going to hit someth-

Their heart stopped dead and painful at the sound of footsteps groaning against the floorboards above their head.

They were breathing so hard it came in a round, muffled panting breaths coming so sporadically and echoing that it almost sounded like there were two of them here.

Eyes wide and plastered to the ceiling, they kept their breath dead still and the light clutched and covered against their chest as they blindly tracked the steps across the room. Through the kitchen. Up the stairs again. A soft cooing and chittering as they did.

They were bringing the damn cat with them.

Good.

The burglar took a deep breath, peeling back the cover of the ipad again and squinting against the fresh wash of white light as it turned around the room.

Shelves. Desk. Oddly…clean - no storage? Closet an-

The burglar’s breath clattered to a stop as the ipad slipped from their fingers at the flash of eyes staring back at them - haunted face outlined only briefly until the light fell and flickered away.

They stumbled back against the floor, fear and panic tangling up their stomach and squeezing at their lungs in an icy, branching fire. They choked on it, breaths harsh and desperate. New threat located.

Their fingers scrabbled for the ipad again, hand raking across the broken screen to force the light back on again. Hitting the side of it with the heel of their hand as they shoved themself back - dufflebag forgotten on the ground in the middle of the room - until their back hit the wall.

When the light finally did turn back on, it was flickering - sporadic. They shoved the light at the face they saw, begging the universe to let it just be a trick of the light. A strange marking in the store or an old coat hanging strangely on a chair like the ‘monster in their closet’ when they were a kid. That they’d see the creature’s face and it wouldn’t be real at all. Please please please-

But that didn’t happen.

They saw bloodied, dirty hands and elbows, forearms crossed up over a face they couldn’t see anymore.

Torn clothes..

On the wrists…zipties..

The burglar’s breaths were coming so fast now they were starting to get dizzy. Then softly sob - no - no that wasn’t them - no, that was the creature. The person. The person who was chained up in a fucking basement.

The burglar took several deep, shuddering breaths, keeping the ipad pointed at them.

A small, hoarse voice cracked across the room, not even amounting to a whisper. “pl-ease-”

The burglar stared, beam of light trembling over the wall - shaking like a projector with far too aggressive a fan rattling the image during a grade school movie day.

The burglar couldn’t think of a response. Couldn’t think of..anything. But they did point the light away.

They set the ipad down on the ground, light pointed up so it scattered a gray haze over the entire room.

Tear-sparked eyes peeked out from behind shaking hands as they light moved away from the poor creature.

They were small. Frail. Littered in bruises. Tear-tracks slid down their cheeks, cutting through the dirt, blood, and grime.

“Wh-hho a-re you-??” they dared to ask..

The burglar..didn’t know how to answer that either. “I…n..I’m not anyone- I j….wh-ats going on??”

The little human scrubbed at their eyes. “Y-oure not with him?”

The burglar shook their head in small twitches. “No- just…I….I was..no I don’t know him.”

They seemed to breathe a little easier now - eyes flicking swiftly up to the ceiling - then descending to the burglar again. “C-ccan y-ou get me o-ut-?”

The burglar swallowed down the knot in their throat. It caught on dryness and fear, but they forced it down anyway.

“Yeah- y-yeah I can …do that-” they glanced around the room, whisper growing in pitch as they moved up to a crouch, looking around for..a key..? “..how?”

The human stood carefully, chain around their ankle chafing and rattling slightly - it echoed through the room. “Th-eres bolt cutters i-n the cabinet-??”

The burglar did not want to think about what the fuck this sicko needed bolt cutters in their torture basement.

Their mind filled in the answer to that question anyway.

Bile rose to the back of their throat, but they nodded, standing and tugging it open. They felt around in the darkness for the thick, heavy metal, and dragged it out with a grumbling scrape and a small clatter. They winced at the sound, but heaved it up against them - fuck it was heavy-

They carried it across the room to the captive, anyway.

“..wrists first-?”

The captive nodded desperately, holding out their wrists.

The burglar took a moment of heaving to get the teeth of the bolt cutters properly in place where they wouldn’t bite through skin, but snapped them together fairly easily.

The captive shuddered a soft sob, relief dripping from their eyes as they rubbed at their wrists.

The burglar didn’t wait for further instruction, they needed to move.

They knelt down to the captive’s feet, slotting one link of the chain between the thick metal teeth, then braced one handle against their thigh as their hands pulled back.

It bruised and dug into the flesh of their leg, but they didn’t stop.

The metal didn’t relent, but they didn’t stop.

Teeth grit, fueled by fear and desperation, the burglar pulled harder and harder, feeling the bruise work against the bone and listening to their back crackle at the strain.

They shifted, readjusting - maybe just one half of the link?? It was dented- that was a good sign - but not nearly enough.

They had to break it.

The captive rested both hands on the burglar’s shoulders, steadying both of them as the burglar groaned under the effort. They flinched hard as a hand pressed over their mouth, indicating quiet. They were making too much noise.

They were so stupid.

Silencing their voice with a small nod, the burglar moved back to the agonizing pull, jerking the handle to and fro, desperately trying to force the iron link to submit to iron teeth, crumbling to the ground.

They almost cursed as a little body brushed soft against their leg. “Not the time-” they scooted the kitten away from their leg with their foot, resuming their posi-

…

..how did you get..h..-

The burglar straightened immediately, terrified eyes turning to the stairs.

The owner sat there, crouched in the shadows.

The softest glint shone off the barrel of the pistol that was lazily pointed at the pair of them. Footsteps moved all but silently down the stairs - heavy all the same. The burglar flinched at every muffled step.

Silence clattered away as the owner’s shoe crunched against the discarded ipad, sending the world dark.

A ‘click’ and the room flickered into blinding, garish, rotting light from the dusty orange of a dangling bulb.

“Ohhh honey, did you pick the wrong house..”

[Drabble Masterpost]

(tags: @prisonerwhump @whumpawink @mabledonut @happy-little-sadist @paleassprince @distinctlywhumpthing @wibbly-wobbly-whump @batfacedliar-yetagain @suspicious-whumping-egg @wormwriting @villainsvictim @throwawaywhumper @wild-selenite-caffine @whumpasaurus101 @thecitythatdoesntsleep @whumpworld @pinkieglitterheart @whumpberry-cookie @rainbows-and-whumperflies @a-galactic-fox @shywhumpauthor @cyberneticwhump @bumpwhump @hold-back-on-the-comfort @veyroswin @whumping-seven-days-a-week @whumpingisfun @suffering-and-misery @definitely-not-a-seagull-i-swear @yetanotheraltwhumpblog @whump-queen @uvanuva @a-whumped-tea)

As always, lmk if you want to be added or removed from any tag lists!

#gun #break-in #kidnapping #chain #zip-ties #chains #gore mention #cat scratch #2600 words #ew #whump #whump scene #whump drable

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creativesnek · 1 year

Text

Mushroom Foraging Scare

“All right guys! Today, I’m out here with Peach, looking for some tasty mushrooms for dinner.”

Luigi panned the camera stick over him, capturing Peach on the shot. As he continued to film, Peach smiled and waved at the camera, her excitement evident. The sun-dappled forest provided a picturesque backdrop for their mushroom hunting adventure.

"Let's see if we can find some of those delectable chanterelles," Luigi said, his voice filled with enthusiasm. He adjusted his hat and led the way deeper into the woods, with Peach following closely behind.

As they ventured further into the forest, the air became cooler and filled with earthy scents. The ground was covered in a thick carpet of fallen leaves, making each step slightly crunchy under their feet. Luigi's eyes scanned the surroundings, searching for any signs of mushroom patches. As they did so, the man thanked the donations and let the comments flow.

The forest is so pretty 😍

New area unlocked

Damn, the dark web theory to mushroom foraging pipeline is REAL

Weeg looks so adorable and excited

Protecc this man at all cost

*SuperBro has donated 1500 bits! I will never understand y u like mushrooms so much🤢*

Luigi smirked at his brother’s words. Mario has always hated mushrooms, even when they were little. If Mama cooked with them, he’d pick them off his plate and give them to Luigi. To this day he finds it ironic, considering Peach is a Toad person. One can see it on the white freckles and reddish cheek that she bloomed from the royal mycelium. In the end, Mario ended up falling for the thing he disliked most and Luigi will never let him live it down.

They continued onwards, stopping every now and then to look over a dead log before moving on. Luigi and Peach were taking their time, enjoying the outdoors and summer breeze. As they ventured deeper into the forest, Luigi and Peach marveled at the vibrant hues of green that surrounded them.

So peaceful…

Do y’all have a club or smth I can join? Kinda wanna get into this🤔

Isn’t this… cannibalism for Peach?

“Peach, you got a question,” said Luigi.

“What?”

Luigi stopped for a moment. “Someone asked if this is cannibalism for you.”

Peach threw her head back and laughed. The question has popped up several times, and honestly it doesn’t bother her. Newcomers are a common occurrence during streams; plus, it was an opportunity to educate people on Toadfolk culture and physiology. Peach jumped over a log, “No, this isn’t cannibalism for me,” she replied with a giggle. “Toads are born from a special and totally different form of mycelium, which is why we’re sentient. Mushrooms, on the other hand, don’t come from this and therefore aren’t sentient or anywhere near close to being my species.”

Luigi adjusted his camera. “Well, Peachie here is born from an even more special mycelium, which is why she looks more like me than normal Toads.”

Ohh ok

Peach just *spawns into existence* 🧍🏽‍♀️

Guys, king oysters 3 o’clock

The green-wearing man’s eyes widened. “King oysters?”

“Where?!”

Luigi looked around, looking for the mushroom patch that the comment mentioned. And lo and behold, there it was to his right. Giggling like school children, the two ran towards it.

THERE THEY GOOO

Freaking dorks, i luv them

Damn they really want those shrooms😂

The two made it to the patch, then dropped to their knees. Luigi angled the camera, making sure he had a proper shot of the beautiful fungi.

Pat the cap

i wanna poke it

By law, Luigi must pat the cap.

*Tao Coffee ☕donated 1000 bits! give pats to the mushroom pls*

“Hold on, lemme double check that they’re safe,” said Peach.

She laid on her stomach, inspecting the fungi before standing up and nodding. Luigi lifted his free hand and proceeded to give the requested pats to the king oyster mushrooms. Cheers and happy emoticons flooded the chat. Luigi set his camera stick down, angled towards them as they started digging some out.

“Oh wow, these are big mushrooms,” he commented.

Peach slowly dug one out and lifted it to the air. “Look at this one! It’s bigger than my hand!”

The two talked back and forth as they collected the mushrooms, exclaiming their excitement.

Still don’t know how tf I got here…

Take a bite out of it

I wanna bite it

Luigi looked at his phone. “I highly recommend not eating raw mushrooms, especially freshly picked ones.”

Peach gasped. “Ohh, how are you going to cook them?”

“I was thinking of sauteeing them and then eating them with rice,” he replied.

The two started suggesting recipes (with the Chat drooling over the suggestion) but were suddenly interrupted by the sound of thunder. They looked up and gasped; the once sunny sky had suddenly turned dark. Luigi dropped the king oysters into a bag, then put them in his backpack. Peach frowned, “That storm’s coming in pretty quickly,” he said.

Luigi nodded in understanding and looked around. In the distance, he noticed an old building, covered in vines and shrubbery. It looked sketchy but it’ll have to do, the storm was rolling in quickly. He grabbed his stuff and made a beeline towards it; Peach followed closely behind. The rain started pouring behind them.

As they approached the dilapidated building, Luigi could feel a sense of unease creeping up his spine. The creaking sound of the rusty gate swinging in the wind added to the eerie atmosphere surrounding them. Despite his reservations, he knew they had no other choice but to seek shelter within its mysterious walls.

Pushing open the heavy wooden door, a musty smell filled their nostrils, and their eyes adjusted to the dimly lit interior. The room was cluttered with broken furniture and covered in layers of dust, as if it had been abandoned for years.

Sketchy af 🫤

Watch for glass or used needles u guys

Get out. Get outta there.

Hell no, I’d rather stay out in the rain

*SuperBro donated 25 bits! Lu, Peach, keep an eye out.*

Heeding his brother’s and the chat’s words, they found a clean spot to sit and just wait. Bowser would be here soon to pick them up; he most likely noticed the clouds and is already on his way here. Luigi sighed, “Hey, at least we got our haul, right?” he said, trying to sooth the tension. Peach nodded.

An hour passed by. They tried to distract themselves by enjoying the sound of music or answering donation questions. Peach fiddled with her pocket knife, nervously looking around. Suddenly they heard glass breaking. Luigi's eyes widened in fear, his hand instinctively flying to cover his mouth to stifle any noise that might escape.

The group exchanged worried glances, their previous distractions forgotten in an instant. Peach's grip tightened around her pocket knife, her knuckles turning white as she prepared herself for whatever might come next. They had hoped for a peaceful evening, but it seemed fate had other plans.

Then they heard the horrible growl.

RUN

FUCKING RUN

Omg do we call 911???!

dis so fake ong

^^ stfu. 😡

Hey there demons, it’s me ya boi

The duo shot up to their feet and booked it towards an exit, leaving the camera behind. They leaped over debris, screaming.

Someone call King!

King!

He better come get his man

*King donated 1 bit! I’M OUTSIDE!*

They could see headlights from another exit. Peach and Luigi ran out into the rain. A large truck pulled closer. Both recognized it as Bowser’s standard vehicle. Without skipping a beat, they headed towards it as it meant safety. As Peach and Luigi dashed through the pouring rain, their hearts pounded with a mix of fear and determination.

Luigi headed towards the side and frantically got inside, wiping away wet hair from his face. Bowser picked him up by the scruff and pulled him inside further. Peach climbed inside, collapsing across the seats. There was silence except for their pants and the truck’s engine for a few seconds. Bowser touched his face, “Are you okay?!”

“I-I’m okay…”

The concerned Koopa turned to look at the backseats. “Peaches, you good?!”

Peach gave him a weak thumbs-up. Bowser sighed and squeezed his boyfriend’s hand tightly. They took a moment to gather themselves. Peach slowly sat up and moved her ponytail over her shoulder, nervously running her hands through it. Luigi sighed and put his backpack on his lap. Then he froze.

“I left my phone behind.”

Bowser stared straight ahead. Then took off his seatbelt. Luigi went to grab his arm but he got out before he could even touch him. He slammed the door close behind him, “Stay here.”

Peach and Luigi’s protests fell on deaf ears as the large koopa marched inside, smoke trails leaving his nostrils. They watched nervously as the minutes ticked by, fearful of what would happen next. Luigi knew Bowser was fully capable of defending himself, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t worry.

They both jumped and screamed when the car door opened suddenly.

Bowser took his seat, getting comfortable on the custom-made seat fit for his shell. He handed Luigi the camera stick, which he had kept dry. Luigi took it, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I did. Also, it wasn’t some random crackhead or anything like that; just a bunch of asshole Boos playing pranks.”

The two sighed in relief. Luigi lifted the phone, trying to give the audience a reassuring smile.

He’s alive!

He lives!

Damn, Bowser lookin’ fine in the rain 👀🫦

Weeg, how could u cheatin on King? Disappointed 🙁

Bowser is King, dumbass.😑

The chat continued their expressions of relief (and the occasional bickering) as Luigi stayed on screen. Bowser wiped his hair back, then started the truck again. He also turned on the heater, “Let’s go home before you two catch a cold.”

Luigi smiled at him, “It’s my turn to make dinner.”

“Sounds good to me,” Bowser replied.

#bowuigi #super mario #bowser #luigi x bowser #luigi #fanfic #super luigi #super mario bros #princess peach #streaming #gaming #mushrooms #oneshot

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marvelmusing · 2 years

Text

The First Move

Part of the Tender Loving Care AU

Pairing: Vampire!Aleksander Morozova x Vampire!Fem!Reader

Summary: A prequel to part one. Alina discovers that you aren’t utilising the dating profile she had set up for you four months ago and decides to help you find a match - leading you to Aleksander.

Warnings: brief mentions of blood consumption, general vampire themes

My Masterlist

“What about him?”

Alina turns your phone around, showing you the screen. A wince crinkles at your features as the uncharacteristic brightness glares at you. With a quick swipe of your fingers, you lower the brightness down to its usual level.

Then you look at the dating profile Alina is showing you. Aleksander Morozova. 1048 years old. Male. He/Him. Vampire (N).

“He’s your type,” she adds, and your eyes flicker over the photo at the top of the screen.

She’s right, he is your type.

Dark eyes that you could lose yourself in, and dark hair to match. A loose strand hangs over his forehead, somehow making him even more attractive. His facial hair is trimmed neatly around his pink lips and the sight of his smile sends a flutter through your stomach.

Alina holds onto the phone patiently as you look through his photos.

The first one was taken at some outdoor cafe, with the sun shining down on him. He’s wearing a white shirt with the top few buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up casually to reveal his forearms. A pair of sunglasses had been tucked into the front of his shirt, and he is smiling widely at something off camera.

The next photo is more formal, dark lighting casting shadows over his features. He’s adjusting the cufflinks on his sleeve, dark gaze locked on the silver between his fingers, and you swallow hard at the sight of him. The last two photos are as equally enticing as the first two.

You shake your head.

“There’s no way he would match with me.”

“There’s only one way to find out,” she remarks lightly, twirling her thumb over the screen with a hopeful expression.

Alina had set up your dating profile a while ago and had been disappointed earlier this morning when you had rather sheepishly admitted you hadn’t opened the app since she had done so. Which was how you arrived here, sitting in your kitchen as Alina sorted through the disastrous matches that had attempted to message you.

It had given the two of you some entertainment reading through the cringy pick up lines and awkward profile descriptions. But then she had begun hunting for your own match. Leading you to Aleksander.

You sigh, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“Okay, fine. Go for it.”

She beams, pressing the heart button on Aleksander’s profile.

“You have to let me know as soon as he messages you.”

“If,” you correct her as she hands your phone back to you. Looking down at Aleksander’s photo for a few seconds, you remind yourself not to get your hopes up before you swipe off the app and close your phone. Alina shakes her head in disagreement.

“I have a good feeling about him.”

For the rest of the afternoon, you forget about Aleksander and the impending response from the little red app tucked away on your phone.

By the sound of it, the apartment above you has a group of friends over for a party. Nothing disruptive or overly noisy but with your sensitive ears picking up on every note of their music, the sound of conversation and laughter, as well as the occasional door slamming, you are struggling to relax enough to sleep.

In the room beside yours, Alina’s breathing is rhythmic, she must have fallen asleep quickly, as usual.

Staring up at the ceiling, you try not to become too frustrated with the situation. There’s nothing you can do about it, but your exhaustion is wearing away at your patience.

Then the screen of you phone lights up the room from where it’s sitting on your bedside table. It doesn’t make a noise or even a buzz, the vibrations sometimes startled you, so you had turned them off over a year ago.

Squinting at the screen, you make a mental note to order a new screen protector – one of those vampire friendly ones you had seen that would dim your screen to a less intense level of brightness.

When you read the notification your stomach flips, and you unplug your phone from its charger, sitting up against you headboard with the thought of sleep long abandoned.

Aleksander has accepted your match request! You have [one] new message.

Holding your breath, incredibly aware of your heart pounding in your chest, you click on the notification. The app takes a few seconds to load but before you know it you’re staring down at Aleksander’s message.

Aleksander: Hello milaya

A smile tugs at your lips at the Old Ravkan term of endearment, still hardly believing he had decided to accept your request. Fingers shaking slightly, you type out a shy response.

You: Hi

It takes him under a minute to reply.

Aleksander: I wasn’t expecting a response at this hour

Aleksander: Nocturnal?

Plenty of vampires prefer the night time, whereas think you enjoy both day and night equally.

The solitude of night was often your only refuge, but the darkness brought back bad memories at times. Whilst the day time and hustle of the world was overwhelming, you liked having your own part in it all, and nothing could compare to the warmth of the summer sun on your naturally cold skin.

You: Not intentionally

You: Noisy neighbours

Aleksander: Ah

Aleksander: Might I suggest noise cancelling headphones?

You: I have some but they’re not the comfiest

Aleksander: In that case, shall I keep you company?

Aleksander: Unless you would like to sleep, I can wait until morning

You: I’d like you to

You: But don’t want to keep you from your sleep

Aleksander: Nonsense, I’m wide awake

You: Nocturnal?

Aleksander: No just an insomniac

Aleksander: Though I did try living nocturnally for a few years, I felt there was too much of a disconnect with rest of the world because of it

You: I can see how that would happen

You: Though I suppose it wouldn’t be too bad nowadays with 24-hour stores and restaurants

You: I’d miss the sun far too much to try it

Aleksander: Do you mind my asking how old you are?

At that, you frown. You remember seeing Aleksander’s age on his profile. Had Alina not added yours when she created your account? Perhaps she couldn’t remember your age, and didn’t want to ask you. Some vampires are sensitive about it, waiting until they reach their mid-two hundreds before they tell people their age.

You: It isn’t on my profile?

Aleksander: Not that I could see

You: In all honesty I don’t really know what my profile looks like

You: My friend set it up for me a while ago

Aleksander: Not a fan of technology?

You: Technology isn’t a fan of me

You: And I’m 198

It’s only as you’re typing out your age that you realise how large the age gap between you and Aleksander is. It wasn’t even something you had considered when you requested a match with him, but now you’re nervous, wondering if he will think you’re not as genuine because of your age.

Before you can stop yourself, you’re sending a stream of messages.

You: I don’t do casual dating or going out for a night at the club

You: And my friend Alina thought this would be a good way of me seeing what’s out there without making myself uncomfortable

You: Because I want to find someone to spend my time with

You: But I like getting to know people before I let them in

Once you’re finished, you watch the typing bubble appear and disappear beside his icon several times. Hurriedly you add,

You: Sorry for rambling like that

Within thirty seconds Aleksander answers.

Aleksander: There’s no need to be sorry

Some of the tension leaves your shoulders, allowing you to wait patiently for his response.

Aleksander: It’s been a long time since I’ve let anyone in

Aleksander: To tell you the truth I think I’ve become too comfortable

Aleksander: My routine has become rather monotonous without someone else to coexist with

Aleksander: I understand your want for companionship despite how difficult it seems to find the right person

There’s a short pause, before he adds,

Aleksander: It appears I have also startled to ramble

You: Yours was much more philosophical than mine

You: With age comes wisdom I suppose

Aleksander: Are you calling me an old man, milaya?

At the return of the term of endearment you find yourself smiling as butterflies swoop through your stomach.

You: Not old just older

Aleksander: Flatterer

Aleksander: Your profile mentioned a love of books

Aleksander: I hope your friend didn’t exaggerate your hobbies

You: No she didn’t

Aleksander: Any recommendations for me?

The two of you message back and forth until the early hours of the morning and Aleksander is the one to encourage you to put your phone down and get some sleep. With his last message in your mind, wishing you sweet dreams, you settle down under the covers and imagine Aleksander in bed beside you. It doesn’t take you long to drop off.

As the sun rises, you wake. Not nearly enough hours of sleep for you to feel fully rested but you pull yourself out of bed. As the world outside becomes busier there’s always a very little chance of you falling asleep again, so you’ve resigned yourself to being a rather reluctant morning person.

Usually such a lack of sleep would have you feeling disjointed and eager to climb back into bed. Instead, you open the kitchen cupboard and take out two mugs with the intention of making tea for yourself and Alina.

She wanders in from her bedroom as you’re stirring in her sugar, careful not the tap the metal against the side of the mug. The sound of dishes clinking together might set off a headache with your lack of sleep.

Alina thanks you for her tea, watching as you begin to make your own. As you’re stirring in the milk, white liquid swirling through scolding hot blood, your phone lights up with a notification. Once you’ve discarded your spoon you settle down on the kitchen peninsula opposite to Alina and read the good morning message from Aleksander.

Alina narrows her eyes at you, though you hardly notice as you type out a response.

“You seem chipper this morning,” she observes as she blows on her tea.

Putting your phone down, you take a sip of your own tea, nose wrinkling at the taste. The temperature is perfect, but you must have put too much blood in it. When your screen lights up once again you attempt to remain casual, taking another sip of your rather dissatisfying tea instead of reading the message.

Alina smiles.

“He accepted your request then?”

A shy smile tugs at your lips as you look down into your mug, then you nod.

“Yeah.”

Her smile widens.

“And?”

After only a few hours of messaging with Aleksander, you feel closer to him than you have to anyone for over the last one hundred years. Your next words are tentative, as you admit,

“I think I like him.”

»»---------------------►

marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity @slytherheign @ellooo0ooo @vixenofcourse @dumb-fawkin-bitch @jane-arthur @ilikefictionmen @budugu

TLC Tag List: @holamor @that-sarcastic-writer @vaguekayla @ramadiiiisme @patniera

Aleksander M Tag List: @nyctophiliiiiaaa @jazmin2211 @wooya1224

BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia @weallhaveadestiny

#tender loving care au #vampire!aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova x reader #the darkling x reader #shadow and bone au #shadow and bone x reader

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spypoint · 1 year

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Level up your hunting game! Discover the top 5 reasons why every hunter needs an outdoor hunting camera. Capture the action, track wildlife, and enhance your hunting experience! , For More visit www.spypoint.com/en

#Outdoor Hunting Camera #trail cameras for hunting #uses of outdoor hunting camera #install hunting camera

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bomberqueen17 · 9 months

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the home stretch

Went over to the house yesterday morning and Jim was there sawing a hole in the exterior wall.

Not alarming at all once I remembered part of this remodel that i'm really excited about is that we're getting an actual exhaust hood for over the stove. Not one of those ones that goes through a microwave either, a real exhaust hood that goes to the outdoors. (The real ones are mounted 30" above the stove top. Microwave ones have to be lower so you can reach the microwave. i can't stand cooking in such a constrained space like that. No thank you. Keep my microwave separate!)

He had sawed out a big chunk of drywall on the interior too, and replaced it with plywood, which is much sturdier to screw mounting hardware into. At my request, he'd extended the plywood down a couple more inches (it'll be covered by the tile backsplash so it won't even show!) so I can screw a couple of heavy-duty mounting hooks in there and have a place I can hang both my cast-iron skillets when they're not in use. I don't like leaving them on the stove (my mother's approach) or stacking them on a shelf (dude's approach) because one is untidy and the other requires me to lift every piece of cast iron i own at once to access any of them. (I also have a square griddle and a Dutch oven and also a tiny skillet which Dude uses all the time when I'm not around and neither of us uses at all when I am around, because it is very much a Cooking For One mini skillet LOL.)

He paused to show me the deer hunting hut he'd meticulously constructed for himself while he was on Christmas break and then artistically had painted camoflage. ("My friends were like omg how long did that take you? I dunno, I wasn't counting, I had a blast. Had a beer in one hand, spray paint can in the other, I just let it take as long as it took. It's like arts and crafts! Who's keeping track of the time?") It did look great. As he was swiping his finger accidentally slid onto the later bits of the camera roll and it showed me the deer he'd gotten on the last day of hunting season. "Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you look at that," he said, and then looked at me and laughed, remembering I had told him I work in a slaughterhouse. "Right, you don't mind that kind of thing, but still." It was a nice big doe, cleanly felled, nothing to object to there.

I went and called the appliance company, who'd said they'd deliver my dishwasher and vent hood on new year's eve probably. They seemed confused that I'd called, and then were confused when they discovered that indeed both my items were in stock and should have been delivered. I said I figured the holiday had confused things (genuinely, probably the vent hood had come in on NYE like the salesman had thought it might, but I bet somebody had the day off and they weren't on the ball about calling people) so I just wanted to call and find out if anything needed sorting. They told me they'll call me today to tell me the two-hour delivery window. So I'm getting my dishwasher today! Pumped. It's gonna go into the living room to start with but like, y'know, that's fine.

The counters are going in on Thursday. Hopefully, Jim said, the counter people could do it in the morning, because then he could start on the tile that afternoon.

Ah they've just called, my delivery window for the appliances is 11-1. OK cool.

The plumber can't come until Monday. But then once he's been there I'll have my stove and sink and dishwasher. And, Jim says, that means the final, last little button-up details will be done on Tuesday.

"And then," he said, amused, "I can go back to the regular schedule, because the people who refused to have their houses torn up over the holidays will be clamoring to get the work done now. It's good you didn't mind." Which is precisely why we thought we'd gotten bumped up by two months, but it's funny to hear him so directly confirm it.

"I'm the luckiest person in the world," I said, "with my mother-in-law's house vacant walking distance away for this whole time, so it's been genuinely no trouble at all." And I am. She's coming back on Tuesday, so I figure we'll move back into our house over the weekend, and I'll deep-clean her house and (sighhh) put all the beautiful sewing equipment back where I found it. I won't really miss her fancy modern sewing machine (which she just got and is third-hand and I don't think she knows how to use either) but her old workhorse straight-stitch machine is a beautiful, unfussy beast I've really enjoyed spending time with.

OK i gotta get off my ass and go get the grocery shopping done so I can go sit in my house for the delivery window. I saved plenty of things to do, don't worry. I'm starting to put stuff into the cupboards, made Dude come sit with me over the weekend and give his opinion-- he's been busy at work and has had no attention span but I refuse to take his "idk just put stuff wherever" at face value, he spends more time in this house than me and i will NOT have him after the fact annoyed with how I chose to organize things. So he did give opinions, finally. And I need a few more lazy susans and storage baskets and half-shelf-rack kinda thingies here and there but I'm getting there.

#kitchen remodel #kitchen renovation #homeownership

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walker-extended-universe · 28 days

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Walker Season 4 Deleted Scenes

4x01: The Quiet

Stella enters her dorm room and turns the light on. She locks the door before turning around. Her steps slow as she sees the window. The glass is blank and shows a clear night outside, with the blinds up and the curtains pulled aside. Stella drops her purse on the floor, quickly walks up to the window, and closes the blinds and the curtains. She then walks over to the bed and pulls her boots off, leaving them on the floor as she gets into bed still fully dressed. She reaches for a round fluffy pillow and holds it to her chest as she lays there silently. Ambient sounds from the dorm hallways can be heard throughout the scene.

4x04: Insane B.S. and Bloodshed

We pan up from an abandoned drink on the bar of the Side Step to see Sadie staring in through a clean spot on a cloudy window. We hear a robotic voice telling her to leave a message at the beep. She then leaves this message:

Hey, Ger. Um, I thought I'd catch you closing up the Side Step.... But, uh, I just wanted to say bye. Some tour stuff came up. Big opportunity! Um, I wish I coulda stayed longer, but I'll try and call from the road. Um.... Keep an eye on Stella for me, okay? Thanks. Alright, bye Ger.

As she talks, we hear some real regret in her voice and it's clear she's not telling the truth.

While she was on the phone, a car pulled up, illuminating her with headlights. Someone honked the horn, prompting her to quickly end her message. She rolls her eyes and grabs the backpack she left on one of the outdoor tables and heads for the car that's parked off screen.

4x10: End This Way

A light gray truck slowly drives down a road in a sunny area. As the truck pulls to a stop in some shade, we see Cassie is driving with David Luna in the passenger seat. After stopping the truck, Cassie pulls up her phone and starts poking at the screen. She says that the gazebo they're looking for is supposed to be on the north side of the lake, but she can see one much closer. As she confusedly looks for more information, she complains about the low quality of the map on the website she's looking at. David suggests they just go check it out and starts getting out of the truck. As he rounds the back, Cassie follows him out.

4x13: See You Sometime

Scene 1:

We see Stella and Liam walking alongside a fenced in field. Liam is looking over the horses and Stella is talking about her confusion over college and everyone expecting her to know what she wants to do with her life, echoing her earlier plotline about being unsure what she wanted with her life.

But, now that everything is done with the hunt for the necklace, she's remembered that, in her heart, all she wants to do is help people. She's not entirely sure what that looks like yet but lists psychology, sociology, and criminal justice as options she's looking at. Liam teases her and calls her a "regular Cordi Jr.", making them both laugh.

Stella then shifts the conversation to the rescue and suggests getting help for the rescue. She starts to explain that she's been collecting resumes but she needs help when Liam interrupts her and says they might not need more help, as he's recently received an offer to buy the horse rescue and he thinks they should take it. They've got it off it's feet now and it helped them both a lot, but it's clear that they're both at a point where they have different priorities. It's time to let it go. Stella asks if Liam is serious and Liam confirms that he is, but that he won't go through with it unless she's okay with it.

"So, what do you say? Should we move on to greener pastures?" he asks, holding a hand out to shake. Stella smiles and shakes, agreeing that it's something to consider.

Scene 2:

Sadie closes the trunk of her van and turns around. The camera pans over to show the farmhouse as August exits the front door. August apologizes and says he just got her text and starts to explain that his graduation party is actually at the main house, but stops talking as he sees what Sadie has.

The camera jumps to show her standing next to a pile of music stuff- August's old things he sold earlier in the season. She presents it all proudly.

August, in disbelief, asks if she really got all his old stuff back and Sadie says she did. She says he shouldn't give up on music. August, still shocked, agrees, saying he was thinking the same thing. He has a lot of decisions to make about school and he was actually thinking of waiting a year to make some money, work on photography and now his music.

Sadie then says she might need a roadie. August, in a different stage of disbelief, asks if she's serious. She nods, saying it's best to make music with people you trust, and that after everything that's happened this year, she trusts him. She says his family.

August thanks her and they hug. He then awkwardly brings up that they're not technically family in that sense and she tells him not to ruin the moment. Besides, they both have places to be. They both laugh and start carrying August's things back inside, where they belong.

Scene 3:

At Ranger HQ. Cordell, in his civilian clothes, enters the bullpen and interrupts Trey at his desk. They fistbump in greeting and refer to each other as "partner".

Trey asks if Cordell is ready to hit the ground running and Cordell explains that while he is excited for everything that's coming next, he's just put in for a leave of absence.

Trey, surprised, asks if everything is okay. Cordell says that it is, or that, at least, he's trying to make it that way. Trey nods in understanding and says he's not going anywhere.

Cordell then notices a sticky note Trey is holding and asks what it's about. Trey hesitates and explains that an old army buddy of his named "Jenny" has been repeatedly calling him and he needs to figure out what it's about. This old buddy of his is the kind of person that will just show up and "it might be a good time, but it's never good news". Cordell laughs and says he knows the type.

Trey then moves the conversation along, saying it's not Cordell's problem and that he should go have a good time with his family, wherever they're going. They laugh and hug as Cordell leaves and he says he'll "see you soon, partner". As Cordell leaves, Trey sits down with a smile on his face.

#walker #season 4 #deleted scenes #s04e01 #the quiet #s04e04 #insane bs and bloodshed #s04e10 #end this way #s04e13 #see you sometime #stella walker #sadie yoo #cassie perez #david luna #liam walker #august walker #trey barnett #cordell walker

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the-ferocious-kittyrose · 1 year

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William Afton headcanons that swim around in my brain like frogs in a pool filter

(Aka my third attempt at rewriting the fnaf lore)

(Based on the first four games, so no Elizabeth or magic life juice. Sorry.)

When he was a kid, his mother committed suicide and his father decided he wasn’t fit to take care of him, so he sent William to live with his aunt and uncle in Virginia for a while. “For a while,” turned out to be forever because soon after his father dropped him off, he stopped responding to William’s letters. Decades later, William got a letter saying that his father had passed and he left behind a note for him. William was so angry that his father had been alive this whole time that he threw the letter into the fire place. He instantly regretted it and tried to pull it out but it was already too burnt to read.

His uncle forced him to go hunting with him as a kid, to toughen him up. He hated the outdoors and guns, but he found gutting and skinning the animals satisfying. His uncle had to yell at him to hurry it along because he would take too much time doing it. This later evolved into him cutting himself, just so he could see the blood and layers of skin and tissue.

When he was a kid, he wanted to be a clown. He went to circus camp and later clown college. He had his clown college certificate framed next to his masters in engineering diploma. He could juggle, do acrobatics, and was well versed in stage acting.

He often suppressed his accent. He didn’t like people asking questions about his past, or really any personal questions for that matter.

His fashion sense was… loud. He wore colorful suits and sweaters with bright patterned ties. It was an eyesore, but he liked them.

He and his wife, Laura, met while she was a waitress at the diner. It was a bit weird, but to everyone’s surprise, they were married after only two weeks of dating. It was a small ceremony held in the diner, officiated by Fredbear himself.

He wasn’t a good husband. He was emotionally neglectful, pressured her into having kids she didn’t want, and found it funny to put her in stressful/dangerous situations just how she’d react. She left him for a man she had an affair with. Just packed a bag and drove off one day, leaving little Michael crying in the driveway. She tried to write letters to the boys later on, but William always hid them before they could see them.

William loved his sons. He wasn’t the best dad, but he did love them. They were part of him. He spoiled them with toys, but he was emotionally distant and often harsh, particularly towards Michael, who he had unreasonably high expectations for.

Evan was a sweet boy, but he was scared of people, including William, which bothered him a lot. He made a Fredbear plush with a mic and speaker so he could talk to Evan without him getting nervous.

William knew Michael bullied Evan. He put up security cameras in the house after Evan “fell” down the stairs, and he would ground Michael and tell him he wasn’t allowed to hang around his delinquent friends anymore. But all of William’s punishments seemed to just make Michael’s behavior worse. And it didn’t help that William was so busy with work, he was hardly around enough to enforce his punishments.

After Evan’s death, William kept the broken bloody Fredbear animatronic in his basement office. He knew Evan’s ghost was trapped inside the animatronic, and rather than destroying the animatronic to free Evan’s soul, he kept it and tried to make Evan happy inside the suit. Evan was sad, so he surrounded the suit with toys and sweet treats. Evan was cold, so he put Evan’s favorite blanket over the animatronic. Evan was lonely, so he stuffed children into the other animatronics and brought Evan/Fredbear to the restaurant, so he could play with his new friends.

The people who knew him always knew he had a screw loose. He was known around the neighborhood as, “the man in the bright purple suit who walks his pet bunny on a leash,” and, “the guy who got his ass beat and banned from the local bar, because he got too drunk and threatened the owner’s daughter,” They never suspected he was dangerous, but when the news broke that kids were missing at Freddy’s, everyone knew it was him.

William didn’t say a word the entire time he was in police custody. He barely even moved. The police said a corpse would’ve been more responsive. He just stared blankly into space and drooled down his shirt.

Henry defended William when he first got arrested, because he couldn’t believe his friend would ever do something so heinous. He only realized he was wrong after William got released and he witnessed William scream at Michael and try to stab him in anger. Henry took Michael to his house and agreed to let him stay there. When William came to get his son back, Henry told him to fuck off and slammed the door in his face.

William didn’t plan on killing Charlie. He was just going to use her as a bargaining chip to get Micheal back. Plus, Henry would have to be grateful that William saved his daughter from the cold and rain, right? He only got violent after Charlie refused to leave with him. He got angry and choked her until she stopped struggling. In her efforts to fight him off, she covered his hands in tiny red scratch marks that would never heal.

William went into hiding, but was plagued by nightmares and visions of the animatronics. It drove him mad. He couldn’t eat or sleep. Every second of every day was spent in constant paranoia that the spirits of Charlie and the others would find him and kill him. It got so bad that he decided he didn’t care if he was caught by police, he had to go back and destroy those things.

He he didn’t know the animatronics would move at night. They weren’t supposed to do that. When he saw it, he panicked and tried to flee, but they cornered him and overpowered him. They stuffed him in the Spring Bonnie suit, the suit he had worn to kill them. William tried to stay still to prevent the springlocks from going off, but the suits broken down condition, along with his heavy breathing and trembling, worked against him.

He was impaled by dozens of rusty metal bolts. He laid on the ground, writhing in pain, desperately hoping and praying for it to be over soon. But he wouldn’t die. They wouldn’t let him. He didn’t deserve to die, he deserved to suffer.

He was in that room for thirty years. Isolated, starving, and in torturous pain. By the time he was found, everything that once was “William Afton” was now gone. All that was left was a soulless feral zombie like monster that attacked anything it came across.

#tw self harm #tw cutting #william afton #springtrap #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #henry emily #micheal afton #evan afton #mrs afton

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