#also. before you yell at me. every oven is different and it takes somewhere between 30 and 60 minutes to bake so thats the window

[modernmutiny]

The honey cake making has commenced. Batters are in the oven, first check is T-5 min. This recipe is wonderful and I love it but also it does require me to sit in front of my oven checking the cakes every 5 min for half an hour so. I'm just glad I only have to make it once a year lmao

[isthisthingeven0n]

knowing you : s.r

spencer has been a regular at your cafe for a few months, and after working up the courage to ask you on a date he disappears out of the blue without an explanation. (2.4k)

knowing you / forgetting you / remembering you / with or without you / starting over, with you 

There were elements to your job that you had a love/hate relationship with. The mornings where you woke up before the sun fully had, dealing with rude customers deprived of their first dose of caffeine along with the pseudonyms they provide you with (which you’ve learned you can’t always yell out as the elders freak out.) And lastly, your staff (but they tended to lean heavier on the love side of things.)

Yet, amongst all of it, you still managed to smile by the time you closed up in the evening. You adored your little cafe, though it was never heaving with people, it was comfortable.

“Hey, look who’s hovering outside.” Your colleague, Maggie nudges you playfully as you glance over the counter to the large window filled with your menu written in calligraphy.

And standing in front of it, the quiet smart guy you’ve grown fond of; Spencer.

A smile grows across your face, but you hide your head in the steam that rises from the milk for a second. “It’s been what, two days since he was last here?” Maggie quips, waiting for you to comment.

“Everyone’s gotta get coffee somewhere, Mags.” You remind her, brushing it off.

Spencer was a customer at the end of the day, just like everyone else. Just because he came to your cafe doesn’t mean he’s here for anything more than his double espresso and a blueberry muffin. Even if your heart wished it could be more.

Pushing open the door, the little bell sounds and Spencer looks up before smiling over to you. “Morning, Spencer.” You beam as you lean across the counter as Spencer eyes up the various pastries and paninis you had to offer this morning.

“Hi,” Spencer speaks quietly, clutching his satchel across his chest. “could I get a double espresso and two muffins, please?”

“A double?” Maggie pitches in, and Spencer looks over to your colleague who stands beside you, holding back her tongue as Spencer nods. 

“Caffeine stimulates a similar effect as the stress hormone cortisol, which is secreted in large amounts after an hour or two of waking up in the morning. It takes on the form of waking you up, making you believe you need the caffeine as, without it, you can have stomach aches, headaches and trembles.” Spencer rambles, and you nod in appreciation for the knowledge. “And I prefer a double.”

“Guess you like strong coffee, then.” Maggie mutters, giving you the eye as you smile to yourself.

Turning around you carry on prepping the machine as the espresso drips into the paper cup. “Two muffins, huh? Saving one for later?” You chuckle as you pick the two freshest muffins out that are still warm from the oven.

And then you hear it, Spencer’s awkward chortle that causes butterflies to flutter in your stomach and rise to your throat.

Swallowing the butterflies back down, you place the box onto the counter alongside his coffee, his name written across it with a smiley face.

“Well, I wanted to take one for my friend, Garcia. She’s been by here before, I don’t know if you’d remember her?” Spencer explains and watches you closely, noticing how your eyes drift off into deep thought and your tongue slips through your lower lip before you shake your head. “She probably complimented every single detail in the cafe, wore something colourful?” He adds, and suddenly your eyes light up as you remember.

“Penelope? How could I forget! I’ll give her a complimentary muffin if she comes in again.” You giggle, and Spencer’s eyes crinkle up as he accepts the small box and coffee.

“She’ll love that. Thank you.” Spencer states as he places the cash onto the counter and adds a few dollars to your tip jar- something you forget exists as it collects dust most days, but Spencer always leaves a three dollar tip.

“Thank you, Spencer. Have a good day.” You begin to turn away as you clean up the counter and coffee machine, missing the longing glance Spencer has before he heads to the door, but thankfully Maggie is watching like a hawk.

“Have a good day?” Maggie mutters, crossing her arms. “He was giving you the eyes, babe.” She comments, but you roll your eyes in response once more.

Picking up your tray, you move past the counter and over to clean up a table. “He wasn’t, Maggie.” You simply reply. 

“He was dear.” A new voice pitches in, one of your regulars, Annie. “Finding someone who looks at you like he does is a rare thing, I would know.” Annie’s focus drifts to the empty seat opposite her, one that has been vacant for a few months since her husband passed. 

“I don’t know, Annie,” You trail off, but some of your other regulars also comment on the small looks exchanged between you and Spencer. “Sorry. am I being interrogated in my own cafe?” You joke as three of your regulars laugh before returning to their own conversations. 

“Don’t let it slip out of your grasp, Y/n.” Annie finishes as she rises to her feet, leaving her mug with a few dollar bills underneath before walking out of the exit. 

Sighing deeply, you run your fingers through your hair as your mind goes blank, unable to apprehend how various people have seen you giving Spencer those soppy glances and the fact they might be reciprocated? 

You shrug it off, allowing your mind to return to work as another customer comes in, and your day can proceed as normal. 

*

“Bye guys,” You wave off your colleagues as Maggie closes the door behind her, leaving you to close up for the evening. 

It had been a fairly slow day, but Thursdays tended to be in the cafe so it wasn’t anything to worry about. 

As you walk around to the counter and bend down to collect the leftover cakes you hear the bell chime. “Sorry, we’re closed!” You call out, placing a few cakes away before lifting your head up to see a rather flustered Spencer. “Spencer?” 

Pushing his hair out of his face, Spencer sighs happily as he smiles to you. “Hi, I, I’m sorry I didn’t realise you closed at 6.” He rambles, a look of hopelessness in his gaze. “I’ll head out, sorry for bothering you, Y/n.” 

Spencer turns around, but before he reaches the door, you stop him. “Spencer?” Immediately, Spencer awkwardly spins on his heels, facing you once more. “Would you like a coffee, one for the road anyway?” You shyly suggest, watching as Spencer’s smile only widens as he nods. 

“I’d love that, I, I only just got back from a work trip and thought I’d see if you were still open.” Spencer explains as you push aside your containers and take out a go cup. 

“That’s alright, I like to do what I can for my regulars.” You chuckle, placing the cup on the counter. As Spencer reaches into his satchel, you shake your head. “Oh don’t worry ‘bout it, Spencer.” You tell him and Spencer pauses. 

“I have to pay you, Y/n!” He laughs, but you insist. “Well, at least let me help you close up.” 

“Spencer it’s fine honestly. You’re probably tired as it is.” You shrug him off, expecting him to just walk out after that. 

But Spencer isn’t like any other guy, he takes a sip of his coffee and removes his satchel and places it on a chair. “Where do I start?” He questions, rolling the sleeves of his purple shirt up to his elbows, prepared for business. 

The sight makes you laugh lightly, he looks adorable in every sense which makes you slightly flustered. “Well erm,” You look around, trying to think of an easy job that’ll result in the least hassle for him. “how about you put these cakes away? I’ll drop them off to the food shelter on my way home.” You explain, motioning to the containers and Spencer nods, taking his place behind the counter whilst you clean the tables. 

Pausing from placing the cakes into containers, Spencer looks up in awe as you carry on cleaning. “Do you have any flaws?” He thinks to himself, knowing the answer rationally is yes, as every human being has 10 design flaws in the human body, but you personally, he can’t imagine any. 

“Did you say something, Spencer?” You quip, lifting your head up as Spencer quickly shakes his head, missing the smile on your lips as you hold back a soft laugh. 

“Which food bank do you take these to?” Spencer asks as you move onto your last table, picking up your small menus and coasters whilst you place them onto the chairs. 

“Usually the one two blocks over, but sometimes I stop on the way to Gary - he’s a homeless veteran who camps out under the bus shelter. He’s a good man, but life hasn’t been kind to him.” You explain, thinking how different his life could’ve been. “I’ve tried offering him a job here before, but he shakes uncontrollably.” 

“That sounds like a sign of PTSD, Veterans used to go undiagnosed during the war and suffered from vivid flashbacks, trembling, nausea and intrusive thoughts. Most were outcasted from society, but expected to adjust to normal life afterwards which is what leads many to the streets.” Spencer explains, and once he finishes, you raise an eyebrow. 

“And here I thought you were just a pretty face.” You chuckle, causing a blush to cross Spencer’s cheeks. “You’ve never told me what you do Spencer, outside of drinking heavy doses of caffeine.” 

Spencer rests his hands out over the ledge behind the counter as you walk over, discarding the cleaning supplies beside him. “I work for the FBI.” He starts, and you nod along, trying to hide your surprise. “For the BAU, the behavioural analysis unit. We analyse peoples behaviour to assist in cases around the country to help solve crimes.” Spencer explains simply, not wanting to overcomplicate the matter as your eyes widen. 

“So you analyse people’s behaviour? Does that mean you’ve analysed me?” You slowly trail off as you move away from Spencer and sit down at one of the tables, suddenly feeling self-conscious as his eyes remain on you.

Moving across the cafe, Spencer pulls out the chair opposite you and rests his hands on the table, firmly clasped together. He doesn’t want to lie to you, but he equally does not want to sound like a creep.

“You can be honest, Spencer.” It’s as if you can read his mind as you give him those warm eyes that greet him in the mornings, making him sure that whatever happens at work, you’ll be alright when he next comes in.

Fidgeting ever so slightly, Spencer closes his eyes to allow his mind to focus- something that is usually effortless, but whenever you cross his thoughts they become scrambled.

“You are a warm person naturally, an extrovert as you invite people into your cafe. Mornings are a struggle as you keep a refillable cup by your side next to the coffee machine. I saw you refill it last Tuesday and it must’ve been at least your third cup as I was later that day. You like to please others, make them happy and by doing so you sacrifice your own wellbeing. Helping people makes you happy, but you don’t do it for selfish reasons which I like a lot about you, Y/n.” Spencer explains, and as he looks up you stare at him in a state of awe.

“And you got all that, from interacting with me every week?” You laugh lightly, leaning back in your chair as astonishment crosses your eyes as you click your tongue. 

“Yes.” Spencer curtly nods. “That and I have an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory and 3 PHD’s.” He adds nonchalantly. 

“Just casually slipping that into conversation, Doctor.” You raise an eyebrow, and Spencer brushes his fingers through his curls. 

Tearing your eyes from him, you look up at the clock and swear under your breath. “I’m sorry, Spencer, I’ve got to go.” You tell him with a sad smile, not wanting this to end as he gathers his things along with his cold coffee- not that he’d ever tell you otherwise.

Spencer hovers by the doorway as you switch off the last of the lights and juggle the containers in your arms along with your keys. “Let me help with that, Y/n.” Spencer reaches out, his fingers gliding over yours as he takes the boxes painfully slowly.

“Thanks,” You mutter as you turn the sign over on the door and lock it behind you whilst Spencer stands idly outside, the temperature dropping fastly compared to the LA sunshine he had experienced mere hours beforehand. “my cars just up here, do you mind?”

Shaking his head, Spencer walks alongside you. It feels strange, interacting with him outside of your little bubble, but to him, he likes the chance to burst the comfort bubble.

Bearing in mind all that Penelope and Derek have told him on the jet home, Spencer places the containers in the trunk of your car before you close it.

“Well, this is me.” You rock back and forth on your heels as Spencer wracks his mind to communicate with his mouth. “Spencer?” You wave your hand over his face, and suddenly he snaps out of his deep thoughts.

“Sorry,” He mutters, tugging on his scarf. “Y/n, would you like to go out somewhere, sometime? I mean, I love your cafe, but a change of scenery never hurt.” Spencer asks, and he can see the surprise in your expression as you glance away to your feet. “If not, that’s okay. I understand-” 

“I’d love to.” You cut him off from his own doubts as you step closer and rise to your tiptoes, kissing his cheek. “Here’s my number, I keep some business cards in my pocket.” You hand him your card and Spencer runs his thumb over the embossed logo. 

“I’ll call you.” Spencer tells you with a bright smile, one that causes butterflies to swarm in your stomach as you walk to your car door. “Drive safe, Y/n.” 

“Take care Doctor,” You salute to Spencer before you close your door, driving off out of sight as a squeal escapes your lips in excitement at the thought of Spencer calling you.

Except, what you missed as you turned the corner was Spencer getting a phone call that would change everything for the worse, leaving you in the dark as Spencer answers his phone with his full heart now sinking. 

He’s heading to Mexico.

PART TWO

[nite-shay]

My Neighbor: Hawks - (Takami Keigo / Hawks x Reader

Funny Idea: Your neighbor is hawks. 

Winged hero: Hawks. One of the fastest and youngest heroes pro heroes. Number 2 in hero ranks and number 1 in most eligible bachelors in all of Japan. 

And drum roll, please! *Drummy sounds* Tada! He is your neighbor! Shocking, I know, right? The title totally doesn't give it away! Nope, not at all!

Anyways, you might be wondering, 'Nite! How did that happen?'

Well.. ya see... that funny story…

Also, sorry for any typo :) 

Enjoy!

Notes: reader is 20+. No warning. Mild rating.

****

"Please be fixed. Please be fixed. "You quietly prayed as you hesitantly reached for the handle that leads to the lobby of your apartment building. 

The leasing office sent out a mass email earlier, letting all the tenants know that the central air was 'currently out of order' and they are 'working quickly to resolve the issue.' At least they were 'extremely sorry for any inconvenience this may cause and appreciate the patience of all tenants.' 

They also explained how per the lease agreements, no discounts would be provided for maintenance issues and that the full rent would still be due. 

I really need to move…

It just had to go out right smack dab in the middle of summer. And on one of the hottest days on record, no less!

You took a deep breath and pushed open the door into what could only be described as a magma cavern. Nope, you weren't on a tropical island; this was just the lobby. Damn, if it was this hot here, you can't imagine what your apartment must feel like.

You trudged your way through the muggy lobby grabbing your mail on your way over to the stairwell. By the time you made up to the very top floor, you were out of breath and drenched in sweat. Honestly, it looked like you just took a dip in a pool. Your clothes clung to every part of your sticky, overheating body. Hell, you were just happy you didn't have a heat stroke by the time you reached your front door.  

You prayed your apartment would be cooler.

It wasn't!

It was giving the stairwell a run for its money. 

Oh, hell no... NOPE! Not dealing with this.

You marched through the doorway, making sure to lock the door behind you, not like it would make much of a difference. You didn't see or hear anyone on the trip up or in the hallways. No doubt the other residences did the smart thing and retreated for someplace much cooler. You tossed the stack of mail on your end table without checking it. You'd deal with it later. More than likely, the postal carrier had mixed them up again with the tenant next door.... again...

Later problem for later me! Cool now!

You barely made it to your living room before you started peeling your sweat-soaked clothes off. Thankfully you lived alone, so you didn't have to worry about shocking anyone as you made your way to your bedroom. Tossed your clothes in the hamper before slipping into the thinnest shorts and tank top you could find. You would have said to hell with clothes in general at this point, but if you were going to cool this place off, you need to get some airflow in this place asap. That means windows and doors need to be open. 

And for the next hour, that's what you did. Every window you had was open as far as they would go, along with the sliding glass door that led to your balcony. The breeze that flowed through your home was still hot and muggy, but it was then nothing. You also gather any and every fan you had, even the pitiful little desk fan that sounded like it was on its last leg. If it ocellated or moved air in any way, shape, or form, that bitch was on high!

It took a little bit, but it felt like you could breathe as the temperature started to drop. Of course, by then, you were on the verge of dehydration and also contemplated, more than once, curling up in your fridge until that accursed flaming ball of gas in the sky went down.  

But you had food in there, and you can't waste food. Damn it.

Speaking of food...

You enjoyed a large bowl of ice cream and about three glasses of water. You reveled in the coolness of the sweet treat in your stomach, which gave you motivation for your next venture.

 A nice cool shower. 

You let the cool water flow over your whole body for what seemed like forever. Letting it wash away the stress, heat, and sweat of the day right down the drain. By the time you were done, your fingers were pruney, and the sun had descended entirely.

Damn, you were tired.

You lazily dried yourself and considered just going to bed as you were. You were on the 15th floor of your apartment building, so it wasn't like you had to worry about anyone peeking in your window. But you still didn't feel comfortable sleeping naked with your windows opened, and you really didn't want to close them. 

After a short debate, you settled on a thin tank, and underwear was a good compromise. 

Your body felt sluggish as you made your track to your bedroom. It was still relatively early, but between your job and the heat, you were completely and utterly wiped. 

Bed... Sleep... 

You showed your bed no mercy as you tore the covers off the nicely made bed and tossed them across the room. Then with no grace whatsoever, you let yourself collapse into the cool embrace of your mattress. Between the comfort of your bed and the white-nose of the fans, it didn't take long for drifted off to sleep. 

***Later that night

The summer night air was hot and humid as the Wing hero: Hawks, flew high above the city. Even at the higher altitude, the air was so thick, it felt like he was swimming in a dense swamp rather than soaring through the sky. His whole body felt sore and heavy, so much so that he was actually an effort to keep himself afloat. 

Damn, that villain really did a number on me. One more hit, and my goose would have been cooked.

The shift today had been long and hard, thanks to a tough group of villains that left him banged up and exhausted. He ended up having to get patched up at a hospital. The doc that ended up putting him back together tried to get him to stay, but he managed to talk him into agreeing on releasing him. Though, he would have flown the coupe either way. He couldn't stand hospitals or clinics. Not that there was anything wrong with those places. They just reminded him too much of the commission. Orderly. Sterile. Functional. 

Which is nice for a hospital, not for life. He has almost 20 years of experience with it to make him an expert on that subject. 

Shit got old quick….

Though honestly, it wasn't like his place was much better. It was a simple bed, one bath apartment. Top floor, of course, with a balcony that looked over the inconspicuous neighborhood it was built in. Now being the number two hero, you'd think he makes enough to live somewhere a bit more… well, expensive. But while he did live the high life, it was nice to have a place he could go and just be Keigo, not Hawks.

And speaking of, he could see his balcony coming into view. 

He swooped down over the rallying, stumbling a bit in the landing. It was pitch black, and his eyes felt as heavy as his body. Thankfully, though, he didn't fallout then there. Camping wasn't his thing, and while the balcony was rather spacious, his bed sounded much more comfortable. 

Ahh, home sweet home. 

That's weird. Did I forget to lock the door again?

He shrugged, not giving it much thought. He'd been in a hurry this morning, getting called in for an emergency issue downtown. And it wasn't like the first time he'd forgotten to lock the door behind him. Plus, he lived on the top floor; it's not like he had to worry about people just walking in off the streets. 

Lot easier targets than his humble abode. 

He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Damn, it was hot. He must have forgotten to turn the AC on this morning. The apartment was hot and muggy, but he honestly couldn't have cared less. An oven sounded like a good place to take a nap at this point. His body started moving on its own towards the bedroom, stripping out of his hero costume along the way.

Bed. Sleep. Bed. Sleep. Bed. Sleep.

His mind chanted over and over, clothes would be tomorrow's problem. He didn't even bother turning on any lights as he maneuvered through the living room and down the hallway. He'd lived there for over a year, so he knew the layout like the back of his hand.

By the time he made it to his bed, he was down to only his boxers. He was about to pull those down, too, but the moment his legs came in contact with the mattress, it was like whatever energy was left was drained out of him.

He sighed and let his body fall forward across the bed that would give him the sweet relief he so desperately needed. 

Thump!

Huh? Why did his mattress feel all lumpy?

A loud shriek jolted him back to life long enough to realize that he was not alone. That the lumps in his bed weren't his covers, but a body. 

There was a person in bed.

He shifted his weight, forcing himself up as the body under him started to trash and yell.

"Huh? What are you doing in my-" He managed to murmur out before a sharp pain to the side of his head finally did him in, and his mind gave in to the darkness of unconsciousness. 

********

Your dreams were a God sent.

You were in a winter wonderland. Cool snowflakes danced all around. A cool breeze would blow every now again. It was like you could hear the clinking sound of ice hitting the window. Oh, what was that? The sound of heavy snow falling from the tree limbs? How wonderful!

So wonderful. So peaceful. So cool.  

But everything changed when you were jolted awake by something pinning you to your bed. Whatever it was, was large, heavy, and sweaty. 

You shrieked as you realized it was a person! There was a person on top of you! You trashed about trying to push the weight off of you, but you couldn't seem to get them off you. You screamed louder and struggled harder until their weight shifted.

"Huh?" The voice above you was drowsy sounding definitely that of an adult male. Your panic doubled as he shifted again, giving you a little more wiggle room. You still couldn't get free, but you took the opportunity to reach for something, anything to defend yourself with. Like hell, you were going down without a fight! Finally, you managed to wrap your fingers around something large on your bedside table. "What are you doing in my-?" You didn't let your attacker finish as you bashed the lamp into the side of his head.

He let out a loud 'off' as he rolled off the bed, giving you enough time to scrabble to the opposite side of the bedroom, hitting the lights. 

Were those....wings? 

Peaking over the side of the bed was, in fact, crimson feathers.

Who or what the fuck is that?

*******

Hawk's head pounded as he slowly stirred.

Shit, did he get drunk last night?

Slowly he opened his eyes, wincing from the light flooding the room along the memories of the night before. That's weird; he didn't remember turning on any lights.

Was it morning already?

He went to stretch his sore, aching body but quickly realized he couldn't.

He glanced down at himself and saw that yeap he was in his boxers and tied- wait.... were those power cord and... belts?

He blinked. What the hell? His upper body was bound in what looked to be a mix of various power cords and belts. Did someone break into his place and attack him? 

Who in their right mind would break into his house? He was a hero! One of the top in the country! 

He sighed as he tested the 'ropes.' Well, if this was a robbery, it was poorly planned, to put it mildly. The assailant left his wings completely free, and the binding was so poorly tied that he could slip right, with little effort. 

A squeak of a floorboard caused his head to jerk up and glare at his attacker. A person carefully stepped into his view. And well, of all the things he'd been prepared for... you weren't it. And certainly not you, in nothing but your underwear, a tank top, and wielding a lamp like it was a baseball bat. 

Well... this is... unexpected.

He could only stare at you in confusion that years of training couldn't even stop. Huh? You didn't look like a villain, much less a burglar. Honestly, you didn't look like a fighter at all. 

If you weren't a villain, then...

He mentally groaned. 

Great. You were a fan... and a crazy one at that. 

Over his career, he's had a few run-ins with crazy or obsessed fans of his. He couldn't count the number of times he's had to change his phone number or move his safe house. Even with the commission on his side, his info still got out! 

Maybe they should start hiring them instead... 

Well... at least you were easy on the eyes. He thought as he gave you a once over. Your hair was a mess, and was that a bit of drool on your chin? 

Yeap, just another crazy yet fairly active fan.

"Hey there." He greeted you with a warm smile, causing you to jump. He needed to play this out some. Escaping wouldn't be a problem, and he already had a few feathers at the ready in case you tried something. But he was hoping it wouldn't come to that. As irritated as he was at you, he didn't want to hurt you. You weren't a villain, just... confused. "It's not every day, I wake up to beauty like you. How about you untie me so I can introduce myself properly."

He gave you a charming smile as he watched your face go from nervous to confused and then to anger.

"L-Like, hell, I'm telling you my name after what you did!" You took a step forward and raise your weapon up slightly higher, ready to strike. "And don't flirt with me, you creep!" 

Hmm, that usually works.

"My bad. I didn't mean to offend you. If you untie me, I'm sure I can figure out a few ways to make up for it." He winked, keeping his smile friendly and inviting. He needed to figure a way out of this that didn’t involve him hurting you or land him on every news station in the country. 

*****

"You're seriously fucked up in the head, you know that! I am not untying you!" You yelled as a blush slowly crept over your cheeks. You were shocked at the stones this guy had! He broke into your home and attacked you while you were asleep. And now he was flirting with you?! Like this, a date or something! 

Something in his eyes flashes for a split second, and you saw one of his wings twitch. 

Why did he keep looking at you like that?

"D-Don't try anything! The police are on their way!" At least you hoped they were. You hadn't been able to call them, cause stupid you forgot to put your phone to charge when you got home. It was completely dead. You could only hope one of your neighbors who stayed had neared the commotion and called for help. 

"Police?" His golden bird-like eyes went wide for a moment. Did he really think you wouldn't call for help?

"Yes, the police! You broke into my home and attacked me in my sleep! What did you just expect me to call for a parade?!"

"Wait…" You could see the gears turning in his head as he glanced around your room. His eyes suddenly went wide.

"So… you're not one of my fans?"

"Fan? WHY THE HELL WOULD I BE A FAN OF A PSYCHO LIKE YOU!?!"

"Wait! This is just a misunderstanding!"

"How the hell is breaking into someone's home, attacking them in their bed in the middle of the night a 'misunderstanding'?"

"Look, all I remember is flying home. Walking through my…" The man trailed off. "Wait, what address is this?"

"Like I'd give my address to a villain?" You scoffed and rolled your eyes.

"I'm already here like it's really going to make a difference?" He growled before giving you a glare. You watched as his wings poofed up a bit. "Also, watch the insults. I'm a hero, not a villain."

"Likely story." You deadpanned. "You could at least come up with something more believable than that..."

"W-wait... You don't recognize me?" You gave him a once over. "Take a really good look at me." His wings stretched out a bit. "Anything thing ring a bell?" You just stared at him blankly. Granted, he was good looking, and if he wasn't a criminal, he could easily be on the cover of a magazine. "Seriously?"

"Pretty convenient of you to pick the home of someone who doesn't follow heroes, huh?"

"More like, inconvenient. If you did, you'd recognize me in a heartbeat." He sighed. "Look, just check my pants pocket. You'll find my credentials." 

"How do I know this isn't just a trick? Or maybe they're fake." 

"It's not a trick! Look, if you're that worried, just get your phone and google me. I'm the wing hero: Hawks." Huh? Why would he suggest that? He wouldn't know about your phone... so why would he tell you to get it? You could call for help. That should be the last thing he wants. You pondered for a moment. 

****

"Fine, I'll check. But this better not be a trick," You paused. "cause if it is, I got another lamp with your name on it!" He watched as you gradually made your way towards his discarded clothes. While you searched for his wallet, he glanced over to the shattered remains of what he assumed was your first weapon. 

Well, that explains the small blood trail on the side of his head and his headache. 

Finally, after what felt like forever, you found it. You made your way back to him as he watches you juggle, keeping your on him, holding the lamp, and reading his ID. 

"Hero license, Hero: Hawks, Name: Takami Keigo." You mumbled as your eyes darted between the ID's picture and himself. He could still see the doubt in your eyes. Damn, if this didn't work, he was going to have to free himself. Hopefully, he'd be quick enough to do that and subdue you without hurting you much. "Wait… Takami… Keigo.." Your eyes went wide, and he had to admit, his name sounded a little too good coming from you. "Wait! That's the name on the mail that keeps getting put in my box!" A look of realization and shock washes over you. "You're my neighbor!"

"Ah, so you're the one that's been slipping my mail under my door!" He couldn't help but smile and sigh internally. Finally, somethings going right! " Nice to finally meet you! Sorry I haven't had a chance to introduce myself before now. Work keeps me pretty busy."

"You're a hero… and you're my neighbor…." Your eyes were wide as you stared at him. 

"Looks that way."

"THEN WHY THE FUCK DID YOU BREAK INTO MY HOME!"

"It was an accident! I swear! I was exhausted and just flew to the wrong balcony. Honest. The glass door was open, and I didn't even realize I was in the wrong place." He tried to reason with you.

"Didn't you think it was a little strange that the furniture wasn't yours, or how about the fact that I was IN the bed?"

"Like I said, I was exhausted." He just shrugged before mumbling. "And well, let's just say you wouldn't be the first time a fan found where I lived and tried to surprise me in bed."

".... so you thought I was some psycho who broke into your home just to try and sleep with you…" You glared at him, clearly annoyed. "You realize I'm still holding a weapon right now, and remember..." You gestured with the lamp. "I gotta pretty mean swing..."

"Easy there, Chickadee. I'm joking. And I wouldn't call you psycho just... A little touched in the head." That earned him a glare that made him chuckle. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding."

"You like pissing people off, don't you?"

"I've been known to ruffle some feathers from time to time." 

"Look," You sighed as you tried to process everything that just happened. "This is just... too much..." You sat the lamp down finally. "Damn, I'm sorry."

"No worries. This one on me." He made a move to stand. 

"Oh, here, let me..."

"All good, I got it." He stood up, letting the restraints fall off of him like they weren't even there, let alone tied. 

"H-how did y-you?" 

"Oh, yeah. Word of advice, ya might wanna work on knots." He chuckled as he stretched.

"Y-You could have gotten free at any time… why didn't you?"

"Like I said, I'm a hero." He walked forward while you moved to the side, eyes still wide-eyed." If I'd freed myself before you realized who I was, you would have freaked out. Honestly, the last thing I want is for you to get hurt or you to go screaming down the hallway in your underwear." He informed you as your face turned beet red, and you then tried to pull your shirt down. He laughed at the poor attempt to hide. "Well then, gotta say this would make a hell of a story, but I'd really appreciate it if we kept this between us." He could help but tease you more. You looked so damn cute when you're flustered. "Not to brag or anything, but I'm a pretty well-known hero and have a reputation to uphold." He sent out a few of his feathers to help gather his gear while he talked to you. You were so entranced watching his feathers work that he had to repeat himself again.

"I-I-I… Yes!" Your eye finally snapped back into focus on him. "Of course! Just between us!"

"Great! Glad that's settled." He took a step towards you and held out his hand. You finally got the message and handed his wallet back to him. "My superiors and PR would have my tail feathers if this got out." He ginned. "Well, would you look at the time!" He grinned while making his way to the sliding glass door and out to the balcony, his floating clothes trailing behind him. "Best be on my way. I have an early shift in the morning. Sweet dream angle." And with that, he stepped out to the balcony and fluttered over to his.

Damn, what a night!

*****

Extra:

The next morning.

You woke up late, groggy and sweaty. The AC was still out, and your apartment was slowly heating up. 

With a heavy sigh, you forced yourself out of bed, put on shorts, and headed to the kitchen.

Last night was a hell of a night. 

Your neighbor is a hero... 

What are the odds of that?

You reached up into your cabinet and pulled down your favorite cereal.

Whatever, he can't be that good if he made that big of a mistake, right?

You quickly made your breakfast and headed for your balcony. There was a slight breeze blowing that morning, making it almost bearable outside.

Almost...

Huh? What's that?

There was a large brown bag sitting on your patio table.

That wasn't there before...

You sat your bowl down and picked it up. Whatever it was, it was a decent size and heavy. You opened the bag, and the first thing you found was a note.

'Sorry again about last night. Here's a little gift for you to make up for it. 

Bet you could do some real damage with this one. Batter up, chickadee!

Your neighbor,

-Hawks'

You reached further into the bag and pulled out... a lamp?

It was made out of wood and metal, making the damn thing large and pretty heavy. It was well made and couldn't have been cheap! You pulled it further out of the back, and when you saw the shape of the body, you couldn't help it: you busted out laughing. The damn thing was in the shape of a roaster!

Your neighbor... is a hero... and a strange one at that...

********

Thanks for the read! If you want see the other stuff I’ve done, click the link bellow!

MasterList

[ushidoux]

Look at Me, Senpai - Hinata x Reader x Daichi (Pt. 4)

Summary: Reader starts to see Hinata in a different light once he returns from Brazil. It turns out Hinata’s inability to give up isn’t just something restricted to the court. (~2.3k words)

Warnings: fem!reader, nsfw, infidelity, a touch of the yandere

A/N: Honestly I can’t even tell who I want to be happy anymore, this is just sad lmfao.

Part 1|| Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5

—

“Shit-” You murmured under your breath, immediately withdrawing your burnt finger from the oven and into your mouth, sucking hard to palliate the sting. As usual, you’d neglected wearing mittens before turning the roasted veggies and inadvertently hit the top rack, adding another burn to the collection of small, barely-faded kitchen scars on your forearms.

Daichi glanced in your direction briefly, before going back to preparing fruit for dessert.

“You need to be more careful,” he said, just a little more stern than usual. The click of the knife hitting the wooden cutting board cut the air sharply, accenting an uncomfortable silence as you watched him from behind.

Your eyes rested on him for just a few moments more. Somehow, throughout the day, your panic at the idea of Hinata showing up to dinner in your own home and laying your infidelity to bear had slowly quelled. To expose you would only be out of spite, and even if Hinata could be determined and ambitious to the point of being inconsiderate, he wasn’t petty. You’d even considered the fact that he might not even show up.

Now the only thing on your mind was figuring out what was generating the cool energy Daichi seemed to be trying very desperately to suppress. Was it a response to your own skittish behavior? You had been keeping yourself (and your phone) a fair distance away from him since this morning, after all.

You shifted closer to him now, grabbing another knife and a cutting board to prepare dessert in silence. You turned to look at him, but he didn’t turn back.

You finished preparing dinner in silence.

To your dismay, Hinata showed up, right on time, and your stomach turned to lead with the familiar rapping on the door. Hesitantly, you trailed behind Daichi as he walked over to let him in.

Somehow, some way, Shoyo was still as bright as the sun despite it being evening, lighting up the room from the very first sight at the entrance. You realized you had missed his smile, when he grinned in your direction as though nothing was wrong and nodded politely at you first; maybe you noticed that the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, but he turned away from you quickly to greet Daichi.

“I brought ingredients for caipirinhas!” He said cheerily, glass bottles clinking loudly in a bulky brown bag he balanced on his side while he took off his shoes at the entrance. Trying to mask the tremble of guilt coursing through you, you reached for the precariously positioned items to help him only to be suddenly intercepted by Daichi cutting you off by standing between you two. 

“Got it!” He said, grabbing the bag hastily from Hinata but as he turned to set the goods on the kitchen counter, a flicker of something dark ran through his face for a split second, and this time you knew you hadn’t imagined the look. Something was up.

“Come have a seat,” he encouraged your guest.

Instead you and Daichi found yourselves seated while Hinata comfortably navigated through your kitchen (once you had located glasses, ice and a shaker of course), having insisted on treating you to ‘Brazil’s national drink!’ once you had set out glasses and ice.

Hinata joined you at the table, setting down different colored prepared drinks - a caipirinha that matched the color of his hair, a pale-green drink for Daichi and you last, a bright yellow cocktail that you eyed suspiciously. 

“Passion,” he said, with that smile again that didn’t reach his eyes. You tensed. 

“The fruit,” Hinata added quickly with a laugh, “I feel like you would enjoy sour and sweet together... I also considered grapefruit for a bitter taste.”

You let out a soft, tinny laugh, stirring your drink before you sipped, and you could feel Daichi carefully studying the two of you as he sat by your side and just diagonal from Hinata, who sat directly across from you.

If Daichi was upset with Hinata in particular, he didn’t make it obvious. Daichi, in usual older brother fashion, took the time to catch up with Hinata properly in ways he couldn’t in a crowded bar, and you wondered if they had talked at all since that night where you had met again for the first time. 

Somehow you already knew everything Hinata shared. You knew too much. You didn’t nod in surprise, as you would when hearing a funny story for the first time, and you spent too much time attempting to be a stranger.

While Hinata was effortlessly at ease, you poked at your food noticeably. 

“You’re not hungry, my love?” Daichi asked clearly, in the middle of Hinata’s sentence, calling attention to your solemn presence at the dinner. You startled at the sudden attention, the eyes of both men on you.

“Oh, uh, I think I just got full from cooking. All the smells and such, you know,” you murmured, and Daichi seemed to smile genuinely.

“Of course.”

Hinata clapped his hands all of a sudden. 

“Ah! I’m very sorry if all I’ve been doing is talking about myself! Enough about me!” He interjected. Smiling now again, he looked towards you with glee. “Oh, have you started wedding preparations?” He questioned, brown eyes settling on the ring on your finger.

The thought that you never had it on whenever you were with him briefly crossed your mind.

Your throat was suddenly a bit dry as you came up with a reply. Daichi took a glance at you and then let out a hearty laugh as though he were covering for you, pulling you close to him. 

“Of course, it’s all we can think about.”

Hinata’s smile did not waver, but he said nothing further. There was another silence in the room as Hinata poked at his food, deciding what to say next.

There was something sudden that filled the quiet air as metal scraped against ceramic, like the sound of a kettle whistling or a pot overboiling and maybe it was the fact that the cocktail had been a little strong, but suddenly you felt that you couldn’t be in the room a second longer.

“I think I’m g-gonna have to turn in boys,” you said, with another laugh that sounded somewhere between nervous and drunk. “Thank you for coming by, Hinata-san.”

The -san was harsh and you knew it, but it was appropriate. You tried not to look at Hinata’s face as you stood up in your chair, but Daichi had other plans.

He pulled you again into a seat on his lap, making your heart stop.

“Ah, but you missed dessert babe... just stay a few minutes longer. You took so much time to prepare this lovely meal.”

His grip was like iron while his eyes again slid away from you and back to Hinata, and when you followed his gaze to look at him as well, if your heart had started pounding before at Daichi’s sudden roughness, it was now attempting to escape from your rib cage and run across the street.

Hinata’s soft brown eyes were now ominously dark and the dazzling white teeth of his smile now gleamed of danger.

Something snapped.

“Stop looking at my wife, Shoyo,” Daichi finally said, coolly and deliberately.

There it was.

You could feel every muscle in your body freeze into ice, but your blood ran even colder at Hinata’s reply.

“Why should I stop?”

Hinata remained perfectly settled, but you could tell he was ready to shake, and the muscles of his forearms tensing on the table slightly before his hands balled into fists.

“If I don’t look at her, will you?!”

His tone was accusatory enough that Daichi’s grip on you tightened, and his voice grew louder.

“So… so you admit it? You’re this shameless?”

Hinata looked at Daichi, then at you, then back to his former captain. The anger in his countenance seemed to defuse only slightly at the shock in your facial expression, maybe at the disappointment that you had for now chosen and would probably continue to choose Daichi over him.

“You stopped looking!” Hinata yelled, and in his voice, you could hear a ghost of the young boy who you had disregarded so many years ago. “You stopped paying attention, and all I’ve wanted my whole life is for her to look at me. So of course, I’m going to take my chance... of course, I was going to spend as much time as I can seeing her for who she really is! I will never stop looking!”

Daichi seemed to recoil from the shock of the kohai he had practically raised yelling back at him, and his jaw dropped and then he looked at you, the woman he loved and intended to marry in his arms. A grave miscalculation. 

“It was such a short time but now I know everything, Daichi. Everything that you don’t care about anymore.

I know what makes her laugh, what makes her sad, what she wants to do with her days. I even know how much she loves you and I hate it. I fucking hate it.

I know about her back dimples, and what she sounds like when she’s excited or when she moans, and that place where she has the tiniest birthmark. Yeah, that one.

You’ve gotten so fucking lazy all these years with her by your side while every day I wake up and wish she would take me seriously.”

The fact that Shoyo managed to keep talking in the backdrop, and his words continued to implicate you further and further felt like a wrench in your heart, but the fervor that dripped in his voice… you were torn.

Shoyo, please stop...

“You…,” Daichi’s voice trailed off as he watched you fall apart, crying profusely.

“Daichi, I’m sorry.”

Daichi’s head started to spin. This was far, far from what he had expected.

A confrontation, yes. A mild one, where he would tell Hinata maybe not so gently to back off. He had seen a couple of the texts Hinata sent you early on of course, and never an answer from you, so of course you were staying faithful to him. And even if you had thought about what it would feel like to be with Shoyo once or twice, trying his name in your mouth in fantasy so that it rolled off the tongue during sex, he could begrudgingly forgive you for that.

But whatever Shoyo implied now was much more than a crush. In fact, this drawn-out declaration of his feelings was so far from a crush that it filled him contempt.

Was it an obsession perhaps? Daichi wouldn’t admit that maybe Shoyo loved you genuinely, that would be too unbearable to think about. But the implication that you had in any way given into him for real, right ahead of your wedding... 

That was too much to endure.

He had always ignored the soft undercurrent of Hinata’s affection towards you. It was painfully obvious. He knew about the confession back in high school, he’d even softly joked about it when you told him about it, feeling slightly uncomfortable.

He’d get over it. Hinata was never a threat. Couldn’t be.

And so Daichi ignored every furtive glance even though he understood more than anyone that Hinata was persistent to a fault.

A moment crossed Daichi’s mind briefly from his third year in high school, when he found himself scolding Hinata for a simple mistake during practice: 

How many times do I need to tell you that you always need to consider how your actions will affect others?

He’d meant it on the court, he never thought Hinata would be like this in real life.

Coveting.

Reckless.

Scheming? No, not scheming. Hinata didn’t hide.  You were the one to hide.

“How long?” Daichi said, his voice still shaking, his hands letting go of you so that you could finally stand on your own two feet and explain yourself.

Your knees started to give way and you knelt down in a heap, hot tears falling freely from your eyes. Disgusting. Were you sad because you hurt him or because you got caught?

Daichi couldn’t bear to look at you, his face twisted in anguish, focusing on his anger at Hinata instead.

“How long?!” He demanded again to know, slamming his fist on the table in Hinata’s direction. Hinata was focused instead on the trembling mess that was you now, and making his way over to encase you, and Daichi’s rage only continued to build.

“Don’t fucking touch her!”

Hinata pushed past Daichi who had now risen to block his way towards you and before you could try to defuse the situation, you heard the unmistakable sound of knuckles hitting flesh.

You’d missed the punch but Daichi’s fist was still clenched, and he was shaking it out, his body heaving and his face red and maybe he was crying, but all you could pay attention to was Shoyo who stood in place, stunned.

“There’s a fucking limit, Hinata!”

Despite all these years, Daichi would still be scolding him like a child made Hinata’s fists clench and his muscles strain, and in the next few moments, you knew you had to move before it turned into a full-blown fight.

“Daichi, please!” You screamed, now getting to your feet to stand in between him and Hinata, your stomach turning as you took in the torment drawn into his features as he looked into your eyes.

“Please, please, just look at me,” you said, cupping his face in your hands, even though you knew you had no right at all to touch him, but all to make sure you stopped this, whatever this was. You couldn’t let this continue.

“You slept with him!” He screamed in your face, upset making his voice hoarse, his face now wet with tears. You weren’t sure you had ever seen him cry in all these years.

“How many times? Where? Why? I gave you everything!”

“Please… Daichi, I”m sorry!”

“You slept with him when I worked so hard for you!”

“Daichi-”

“Stop talking!” He said, all but ripping your hands off his face. “How could you… with Hinata? How?”

He now sank to the ground, curling into himself while you and Hinata both watched him become helpless. You wanted to creep closer to him, to hold him in your arms but you couldn’t, you knew you didn’t deserve to touch him.

“I-I’m sorry,” you choked out, again. “I love you, Daichi… I’m so sorry.”

He responded with short and strained sobs, over which you could barely hear Hinata slam your front door shut as he left.

[livelongdolan]

Fruit Loop (G.D.)

Summary: Grayson confesses his feelings to his best friend Morgan, scared of how she will react but things go surprisingly well. 

Word Count: 4.5k (literally the longest i’ve ever posted asdjask)

Warnings: just like the dirtiest thing i’ve ever written tbh, squirting, ass eating, the works

A/N: Morgan ( @vinylhazza​ ) is my precious lil fruit loop (hence the name) so I wrote her this fic with gray and i’m VERY nervous to post it but lmfao here we go 

You had moved to Los Angeles, just like many others, to chase your biggest dreams but little did you know that you’d be finding much much more than that. It started as just a joke between a few of your friends really, seeing some youtubers you liked growing to fame living in LA and talking about how interesting it would be to be youtubers yourselves. After a bit of joking, you had decided to make a channel, quickly amassing about 500 subscribers within a month due to your fun-loving and positive nature. You spoke about all different kinds of things, ranging from serious topics to simple and fun videos about your favorite things. After a few more months of gaining subscribers (now at about 1.5k) you decided to move to LA yourself, unfortunately leaving a few friends and family behind but it was worth it considering they were just a phone call away. You were now living in LA with a small but nice apartment and a job at a vegan bakery just to get some money saved up while your channel grew. Within a few months, you hit 3,000 subscribers but still worked at the bakery where you noticed the same two guys coming in every day.

     The first time you noticed them it had been kind of a slow day, they had come in looking like they recently came back from the beach; hair wet, swimming trunks on, and flip flops on their feet. They ordered from you very sweetly, making sure to be polite as they requested a black coffee each as well as a couple of the featured scones. They waited as you were almost distracted by how familiar the two were, studying their faces as you handed them their order. They thanked you and left, coming back almost every day after that. Taking their orders every day made you realize that they were youtubers, the Dolan twins actually, who you weren’t a viewer of but rather a few of your friends back home were so they’d be shocked to hear that you had been serving up their food for the past couple weeks. Eventually you became closer and closer to them, getting their numbers and even going out to lunch with them a couple times. After about a month of knowing them your subscribers had skyrocketed to 10k and you could officially bring in enough income to quit your job. You loved your coworkers and would hate to leave them but you let your boss know and went on your way to fulfill your true dream. 

    The twins had thrown you a small party at their house when you hit the big milestone, getting you balloons and getting a pint of your favorite ice cream for you all to sit down and eat together. Afterwards a movie was put on and you ended up falling asleep with your head on Grayson’s lap where he was sitting on the couch. He was still awake but you looked so precious when you slept that he just decided to go to sleep right there with you, leaning his head back to the couch cushion to be comfortable. The three of you woke up the next morning, you being the first as you rose off of Grayson, stretching your limbs out to get rid of the sleepiness in your muscles. You walked over to the kitchen and got a few things out to make breakfast, your time at the bakery really paying off in making some fresh bread and muffins, all vegan of course. Soon after you put the muffins into the oven Grayson woke up and walked over to you.

“Good morning Morgs. Surprised you’re the first one up.” He laughs, moving around you to grab a couple mugs from the cabinet next to you before pouring you both cups of coffee. 

“Yeah yeah Mr. early riser. Just be grateful I’m making something so delicious for you two.” You smile, returning to the muffins after the oven made a beeping noise and taking them out carefully. You had a purple oven mitt covering your hand but accidentally bumped your wrist against the hot rack that they had been set on. You almost throw the tin down onto the counter, moving your other hand to quickly grab the spot on your wrist where you were burned. 

“Fuck Morgan be careful.” Grayson put down his coffee as soon as he saw what had happened and pulled you over to the sink, forcing the burn under the cold water that soon became soothing. 

“Sorry Gray I just didn’t realize-” He interrupts you.

“No no it’s okay I just don’t want you getting hurt, you’re my best friend ya know? Don’t want anything happening to you.” He smiles but there’s a look in his eyes hidden beneath the normal caring of a best friend. You brush off your thoughts and just give him a small smile, your wrist still aching with a slight pain. Grayson whisks away to grab a bandage and brings it back to you, rubbing a small piece of tissue over the burn before placing it on you. He brought your hand to his face and pressed a small kiss on the bandaid. 

“There,” he smiled, “all better.” He moved the muffins onto a plate for you, not wanting you to get hurt again and also removed the bread from the oven since it had finished while you were being bandaged up.  You thanked him, he brushed it off as no big deal as always and Ethan woke up and wandered into the kitchen. The three of you sat at the dining table for breakfast, telling Ethan what had happened to get those muffins and just making small conversation. The boys thanked you and went on with their days, fixing up a few things around the house with your help and just doing some chores they had been putting off. You stayed until about 5 pm, when you unfortunately had to bid them adieu and go back to your own home. You made the drive over, unlocking your door and making your way to your room to film a new video for your subscribers. After finishing up with the bedtime routine video you decided to do, you cleaned up your filming equipment and went to bed. 

                                                           ***

The next morning you went over to the twins house again, it had really become your new routine. You would wake up, grab some breakfast, and go to their house to just hang out. After all, they were really the only friends you made in LA so far since many of the people you met had been extremely toxic, only there to make connections and get famous for the wrong reasons. So as always you walked right in, you had a key to the place after all, and made your way to Grayson’s room. He was sitting on his bed shirtless just scrolling through his phone. 

“Grayyyy” You whined. 

His head shot up at your voice and a smile spread across his face. 

“Morgaaaaaan.” He mimicked your tone and rose from bed, walking over to wrap his arms around you in a hug. You reciprocated the hug, laying the side of your face on his bare chest and just inhaling his natural scent of general nature. 

“Wanna do something today.” You mumbled, finding comfort in his large arms squishing you into him. 

“Then let's go somewhere. Go ahead and get Ethan while I get dressed.” He pulls away from you, placing his hands on your shoulders before lightly pushing you away to go talk to his twin. 

You walked into the living room where Ethan was sitting playing some video games and tapped him on the shoulder, slightly scaring him.

“Morgan I didn’t even know you were here.” He laughs. You simply smile in return.

“I wanna do something today so c’mon Grayson is getting dressed and you’re already dressed apparently so let’s go get the car started. “ You started making your way to the door before he could even give you an answer. 

“I don’t wanna go anywhere today, do I have to?” He groaned, pausing his game to pout his lips at you.

“I mean like you don’t have to, I just figured you’d want to spend time with your two best friends but it’s fine.” You jokingly sass him before yelling to Gray that you’ll be in the car and making your way out.

“Thank you Morgs.” Ethan yells out the door, returning to his game. 

“Yeah, yeah.” You yell back, shaking your head and laughing. Alone with Grayson. It wasn’t the first time as the two of you had gone out to breakfast together when Ethan was still sleeping on some days, but it was definitely different this time. It was the middle of the day, and you’d probably spend the entire day together. You sat in the Porsche and Grayson joined you, placing himself in the driver’s seat and starting the car. 

“Well, where do you wanna go?” He asked, turning his head to look at you. 

You simply turned back to him and placed a hand on his shoulder dramatically. 

“Surprise me.”

The two of you made your way about three hours, going to a large forest containing a river as well as many different hiking trails. After taking a few water bottles from the trunk, you two made your way up to the medium difficulty trail, just walking and talking your way up to the top of the mountain. Once you could overlook the valley as the sun set, it felt extremely romantic for a pair of best friends. That’s when the two of you sat on the bench placed on the almost edge of the canyon and took a rest, just absorbing the atmosphere around you and the cool evening air. Grayson rested his head on your shoulder, something the two of you normally did but it felt different this time. You were just thinking about it when you felt him move his head to look up at you. You turned to him and that’s when it happened. He moved forward a bit and connected his lips to yours, soft plush skin melding together in the perfect kiss. You reciprocated, softly and slowly allowing yourself to get lost in it all as a warm breeze swept past the two of you. 

     Grayson pulled back first, looking into your eyes and letting his tongue glide across his lips. You gave him one more kiss before finally pulling away to gather your thoughts. 

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.” He admits, a slight blush rising on his face. 

“I’m glad you did.” You smiled before the two of you returned to watching the sunset, hands intertwined. 

                                                          ***

     For the next week you and Grayson kept your new found relationship hidden from Ethan, wanting to make sure that all would be okay before confessing what had happened. Today was the day though, so the two of you decided to talk to Ethan and tell him all that had happened. The three of you now sat in the living room, you and Gray sitting a little too close to be friends and Ethan giving the two of you a look of suspicion. 

“So, Ethan, we wanted to just tell you…” You began. 

“Me and Morgan are together!” Grayson blurts out, a large smile spread across his face. 

Ethan opens his mouth in fake astonishment before just laughing. 

“You think I didn’t see how close you guys have been being? I woke up early to go to the bathroom the other day and Grayson smacked your ass in the kitchen.” He continues laughing at the fact that you guys believed that you actually hid your relationship from him. 

You and Grayson look at each other, embarrassed, but laughing along with Ethan before getting up and going into the kitchen to get some water alone. You can hear the two of them talk while you’re in there, pausing to listen in on their conversation. 

“Damn Gray look at you go, how long did you have a crush on her before you finally did something? Like six months? Or was it when you first saw her at the bakery?” Ethan teases. 

“Shut up E, at least I did something about it.” He playfully shoves his older brother, laughing as he dramatically flops down on the couch. You walk back in with a bottle of water, laughing at the boys’ behavior, and tap Grayson’s shoulder for him to sit down so that you could perch yourself on his lap. Together, you two are just enjoying each other’s company and watching movies for the rest of the day.  

                                                         ***

     About a month in, the two of you have slept together many times but it was always the same. It wasn’t that it was bad or anything but you wanted to venture out and try new things, but both of you were too nervous to say anything about it. That’s when you decided, with the help of talking to your best friend, that you were going to try something new tonight. 

     You walked over to where Grayson was sitting on the couch in the living room, laptop on his lap to edit the newest video. At the sight of you, he lifted his head a bit to give you a smile but soon went back to the work at hand. You sat on the couch directly next to him and rested your head on his shoulder before turning your head up a bit to press kisses on his neck. He leans into it at first, loving the feeling of your lips pressed against the thick muscles in his neck but quickly pulls away. 

“Baby, you know I need to finish this video. The fans are expecting it tomorrow.” He puts his full attention towards the video again, deleting and moving parts around to form something he knew everyone would love. 

You moved closer to him, letting your hand rest on his thigh and rubbing it gently. Slowly, you moved your hand closer and closer to where you knew he truly wanted you. He whined, letting your hand cover the bulge in his shorts as you gripped him slightly. 

“Fuck this.” He moves his laptop off of his lap and on to the table in front of the two of you and grabs you up off of the couch,pulling you into his body. He kissed you harshly, taking your ass in his large hands and squeezing. You moaned into his mouth before allowing his tongue to take dominance over yours. 

“Gray,” You’re already almost breathless as you speak to him, “wanna do more. Want it rougher.” 

He looks you straight in the eyes, almost not believing what you’re saying. 

“Are you sure sweetheart?” His voice goes soft.

“Mhm. I don’t think I’ll need it but the safe word will be strawberry.” You smile up at him. 

“Okay Morgan. ‘M so fuckin lucky to have you baby.” He smirks before grabbing your face and pressing a rough kiss on to your lips again, guiding you slowly to walk towards his bedroom. Once you entered the room, he pushed you back harshly on to the bed before ripping your leggings off from the middle seam that ran between your legs. 

“Gray-” You try to reprimand him for ripping your leggings but he quickly stops his actions and looks right up at you. 

“What, slut? Have something to say?” He growls, making direct eye contact as he kneels down in between your spread legs. 

You just shake your head, biting your lip. 

“Good girl.” Grayson praises you, making his way up your thick thighs with slight bites and kisses against your milky white skin before reaching right where he wanted to be. He ran his tongue against you roughly, collecting your wetness on his tongue before plunging it directly into your tight pink hole. You let out a high pitched moan, legs almost closing around his head before he grips both thighs tightly, pushing them away from his head and giving you a stern look. 

“Morgan?” He asks, a sharp glint in his eyes. You simply look down at him. “Don’t just look at me, fuckin talk.” 

His demanding tone sets something off in you. 

“Yes sir.” You practically moan out the words, his fingertips still diggin into the flesh of your soft marked up thighs. 

“Don’t fuckin move your legs or you’ll get nothing.” He demands. 

“I’m sorry Grayson.” You pout your lips and you can see his dominance falter a bit before returning. 

“F’kn better be.” He mumbles, returning back to licking up all your leaking juices before moving his hand up and plunging two fingers deep into you, causing you to clench around him and make your hole even tighter than it was before. 

“Gray-please please can I cum? Please Grayson lemme cum.” Your eyes are tearing up at the fast pace he’s achieved while he completely ignores you, going even faster. The sounds of him moving in and out of you are so dirty but simultaneously are like music to your ears. Fingers moving in and out of you as fast as they can go, Grayson places his tongue on your clit and gives the softest of licks at a consistent pace. The combination of fast and soft set you off and you’re cumming around him, but instead of stopping there he keeps going. You’re too sensitive and you’re scared of doing something you’ve never done before. 

Until it happens. 

Grayson’s fingers are deep into you after your orgasm, hitting that spot in just the right way and you feel something break inside you. Next thing you know you’re squirting all around his fingers, almost blacking out at how amazing it feels before he’s pushing his cock into you. He bottoms out completely, balls slapping against your ass as you writhe on the bed and grip the sheets as tight as you can. 

“Fuck Morgan that was so hot, squirting all around me like a little whore. My little slut, so so sweet baby so nice. Feel so good around me.” He’s letting words just fall from his mouth like a waterfall at this point, feeling your pussy clench around him so nicely that he cums right then and there. His hot cum pumps into you and he pulls out, watching it slip out of you and dribble down onto the bed. His eyes follow his own cum for a moment before he gets an idea. Grayson’s tongue moves directly to your hole and he scoops up the mixture of the two of you and holds it in his mouth before straddling your body and grabbing your cheeks to open your mouth. You stick your tongue out a bit as he spits into your mouth before closing it and swallowing the sweet concoction. 

“Grayson that was so good.” You say, completely out of breath. 

He plops down next to you on the bed and laughs, smiling and looking over at you. 

“Yeah it was. I’ll buy you some new leggings this weekend though. Promise.”

                                                           ***

The next few weeks go on as normal, trying out different things in and out of the bedroom. You had a deal that each new thing that you did with friends or just together, you’d also do a new thing regarding your more personal lives together. So since the two of you went to a bonfire with a group of friends, Grayson tied you up that night. And since Grayson took you to a new place to eat another day, you rode him that night while his hands were handcuffed above him. What you really wanted to try though, was what you had been waiting for today. The two of you, including Ethan and a couple other friends all went surfing. You had been reluctant to go, particularly because you didn’t know how to surf. The twins both offered to help but you were still wary about getting swept up by any waves. Anxiety ate away at you until Grayson finally convinced you to go, promising that if you wanted to stop at any time you could. 

So here you were, standing in a wetsuit on the beach with a blue surfboard in your hands. Grayson showed you a few stances to take on the board while you were still on the sand before having you swim out a bit into the water on your board to watch him. You took in the way he quickly moved his feet up and into the middle before slightly crouching to ride a pretty decent sized wave. When it was your turn, your stomach was in knots but you had promised to try for Grayson. So you did as he said and got hold of a small wave, pushing you up and over it and closer to the sand. You almost tripped a bit at the end but you caught yourself, looked back at Grayson and raised your hands in victory. He swam over to the shore where you were and gave you a huge hug. 

“Morgan! You fuckin’ did it! I’m so proud!” He’s shouting his congratulations as the rest of your guys’ friends clap for you out in the water. Your face goes red as Grayson hugs you and you mutter out a small thanks, a smile spread across your face. The rest of the day goes on spending time surfing, laying on the beach, and eating some good food from the snack shack on the beach. But since you went through all of that for Grayson he should reciprocate, right? 

That night the two of you were laying in bed when he started playing with your hand, then moving his hand down to under your shorts, rubbing you through your thong. You moaned a bit at the feeling but quickly moved his hand away, looking at you in confusion. 

“Baby you said earlier you wanted to do something tonight, did you change your mind?” He asks, a bit upset but understanding if you’re not in the mood to do anything anymore. 

“Gray no I still wanna do something I promise. But I’m in control.” You smirk as his eyes get a little wider, knowing he’s in for a treat. Grayson never really showed his more submissive side, wanting to be a “real man” for you, but you knew he secretly loved being bossed around. 

“Strip.” You demanded, getting up on your knees on the bed to watch him. He got off and stood on the other side of the bed and took off all of his clothes before returning back in front of you. 

“Get on all fours.” At your request, he looks a little wary so you give him a kiss before placing a hand between his shoulder blades to lightly guide him down. You had seen him shower right when the two of you got home, washing the sand and sea from his body, so you decided right now was the best time. You crawled around to be behind him, his eyes focusing on the dashboard while yours focused on the way his ass was up for you, giving you access to his tight little hole. Hand reaching around to stroke him, you leaned forward and gave small kisses to the back of his thighs, rising to his butt before giving a harsh bite on his right cheek. A squeak jumps from his mouth at the surprise as he lurches forward a bit. 

You simply grin, stroking him a little more before pressing one soft kiss on his tight ring. He gasps, surprised by how good it feels. 

“Like it Gray?” You ask, genuinely wanting him to let you know how he feels since you always want him to be comfortable. 

“Mmmm” He hums, “Love it Morgs. Feels so good.” You can almost hear the smile on his face at his words. 

“Good.” You lick a stripe across the forbidden entry before blowing on the spit left behind for a cooling effect. He lets out a soft moan before pushing his ass back towards you for more. You lick around him in a circle before plunging your tongue into him, slowly fucking the soft warm muscle into him. The entire time the hand not holding you up is stroking Grayson’s cock, precum leaking on to your hand. You switch hands and pull your tongue away, letting your finger covered in precum gently slip into him before sliding it right back out. You reach behind where you are sitting and grab a small bottle of lube that you had secretly placed there before everything got started, squirting a generous amount both on Grayson’s tight ring of muscle and your finger. 

Gently and slowly, you slide your finger back in before working in another one. Your other hand is stroking him in the opposite direction of your fingers working inside of him as you quicken the pace. He’s now groaning almost animalistically at how good it feels, pushing back on to your fingers as you leave kisses all over his left cheek. Hands moving even faster on both ends, you can hear his whines get louder and louder as he cums on your hand. You remove your fingers from him as well as the hand that was wrapped around his cock and lick off the cum. Quickly going to the bathroom right next to the bed, you grab a towel and wipe off your lube covered hand. Grayson has fallen forward on to the bed, cock still aching at what just happened. He finds himself getting hard again, rubbing himself on the soft blankets beneath him before you notice what’s going on. 

“Oh baby,” you almost feel bad for how needy he looks grinding against the blankets, “I’m right here there’s no need for the blankets. Wouldn’t you rather be inside me?” 

He immediately stops, turning his head towards you with bright eyes before getting up quickly and allowing you to lay down on your back. You spread your legs and he pulls you to the end of the bed, immediately sheathing himself inside of you. You groan as he fucks into you, tip just brushing your cervix light enough so that it doesn’t hurt you too bad. 

“M-morgan you’re so- fuck- tight, so pretty, so nice w-wrapped around me.” He stutters through his sentences, plunging himself in all the way before cumming inside of you. Grayson pulls out slowly, trying to keep all of his cum inside of you. He quickly gets on to his knees, eye to eye with your pretty pink hole. 

“Push it out. Wanna watch it drip from your cunt.” His voice is almost a growl as you obey him, contracting your muscles and letting them relax to allow his cum to drip from you. Soon you feel his warm tongue licking up the mix of his cum with yours and you whine softly. After he’s done, he gives you a soft kiss. 

“We should do that more often.” He gives you a soft sweet smile, completely contradicting all of the dirty things you two had done. 

“We really should.” You smile back at him, spending the rest of the night cuddling in bed before falling asleep wrapped in each other’s arms. 

[smytimagine]

Avocado Toast

Plot: You are the twin’s assistant and best friend for years. One day you notice things start to change and aren’t sure what to make of it. Will things work out? Or will you lose everything in your pursuit of happiness?

Warnings: None for this chapter, just mild swearing.

A/n: This is my first try so please don’t be too harsh!

“Helloooooooo” I yelled as I walked into the house, closing the door with my foot behind me.

It was 9:30 am and the house was eerily quiet. It wasn’t totally unusual to show up and no one greets me at the door, but I could usually find someone sitting on the couch or in the kitchen making breakfast. I headed towards the kitchen.

“Hey, Guys…” I started saying but stopped when I found an empty kitchen.

I walked around the house, through the studio, down the hall towards the bedrooms, it wasn’t weird peeking my head in since the doors were open. No one.

I was standing in the empty living room when I realized I never checked the guest house. Picking up the tray of coffee I pulled my sunglasses back down over my eyes and headed outside. The California sun was unbearable on my eyes and sunglasses outside 24/7 was a must.

As soon as I approached the guest house I could hear the music blaring

Of course, why didn’t I assume they’d be in the gym, I thought to myself

Turning the knob I followed the sound of the music into the small gym they had set up in what was supposed to be a guest house.

I stood silently in the doorway taking in the scene while neither had noticed I had entered the room.

One of them was running on the treadmill in a purple hoodie and shorts, his hood was over his head and he was looking down at the screen of the machine. I could see a headband holding his hair out of his face, as he wiped the sweat from his brow.

The other was on the weight bench doing a set of chest presses. He was shirtless and had on a pair of black shorts. He dawned a red bandana over the edge of his forehead and hairline. I had assumed to keep the sweat out of his eyes.

*Cough*Cough* I cleared my throat to make my presence known

The guy on the treadmill looked up and over at me and reached up to turn off the machine, while the other guy looked over but finished his set before racking his weights.

“Hey Y/N!” The purple hoodie moved towards me with arms open

“Hey E, no please I don’t need any sweaty hugs today. Love me from a distance” I teased.

He scoffed and reached out towards the coffee tray to grab his.

“Hey Y/N, what’s up,” the shirtless figure said

He stood up from the bench and immediately I was lost in thought. He stood much taller than me, I was a measly 5′2 on a good day, while he was somewhere around 6 foot. His physique was undeniably nice to look at. And while I had seen him many times in this very outfit, the sweat beading down his chest had caught me by complete surprise today and entranced me.

“Uh, Y/N? You okay?” He broke my stare

“Oh, uh yeah, hey Gray, here’s your coffee” I felt my face flush as I handed him his coffee, avoiding eye contact. Ethan was looking between the two of us with his eyebrows raised as a smirk grew across his face.

This feeling had caught me completely off guard. I had been the boy’s personal assistant for about two years now, and up until this very minute they had been like two brothers who 50% of the time drove me completely nuts. Usually on purpose. I had been the victim of many of their pranks, but also a sounding board when they needed to bounce ideas off of a third party.

I came by every morning to bring them their coffee and go over their schedules for the day. On big event days, I had to keep them moving from place to place to make sure they made it where they needed to be on time, and I even traveled abroad with them when they went.

I didn’t have much of my own personal life outside of these two, but in a way I was lucky. They were two of my best friends outside of work and during work hours it was never stuffy or boring. I often found myself crashing on their couch after a long night sitting by a fire laughing about stupid shit the three of us had been through together.

Grayson seemed to not notice my new shade of red I was dawning, either that or he was really good at playing it off that he didn’t. I wouldn’t put it past him not to notice, that was something Ethan and I always picked on him for. His peaceful oblivion. E and I would find ourselves looking over and laughing about something while Grayson would be completely in the dark. At this moment, I was thankful for that.

I quickly turned my back and headed out of the room “I’ll let you guys finish up and I’ll meet you in the living room, we have some new things on the calendar I need to fill you in on” I spewed out before rushing away.

I walked back into the main house and closed the door behind me, slumping against it for a moment and burying my face in my hands. I was so embarrassed. Ethan was in no way nieve to what had just occurred, even if I wasn’t sure what that was just yet. I would have to prepare for the teasing that was sure to come from him later.

________________________________

I sat on the couch opening up my laptop and planner, I had taken a few deep breaths, a few sips of my coffee, and gotten my shit together when I heard the door open.

“Hey Y/N, we’re just going to shower and we’ll be right out” Grayson yelled out.

After spending so much time with them they stopped even looking like twins. Sometimes I wasn’t even sure how people could possibly get them confused. I could tell it was Grayson talking without looking up because their voices were completely different.

20 ish minutes later a soggy haired Ethan came walking into the living room. I handed him a piece of avocado toast I had made each of them while they were showering. He took the plate, looked down at the toast and then back towards me.

I knew what he was going to say before the words even left his lips

“Shut it E, I don’t know what happened okay?” I shut him down. I knew he was going to poke at me about what happened earlier. He would never say anything in front of Grayson thank God, but he wasn’t going to let it go unnoticed.

“Hey, it’s fine. I’ve been waiting for a loooooooong time for this to happen” he smirked while taking a bite of his toast.

“Waiting for what to happen E, nothing is going to happen, nothing is happening. It was a momentary lack of judgment” I answered back. I had no idea what he was talking about.

What was he waiting for? There was never any signs this was ever going to happen, or that anything even remotely close to anything between Grayson and I would ever happen.

“Yeah okay, Y/N. Listen, just know, it’s fine. Even though I’m the older, more mature, superior twin, I’m fine with it.” He said very matter of factly.

I wanted to end the conversation, I had no idea what was going on right now and I didn’t want to give Ethan any indication that he was right. He wasn’t. I didn’t feel any sort of way. Of course, Grayson was attractive. Anyone with two working eyes could see that both Dolan twins were clear winners of the genetic jackpot, but that didn’t mean I liked either one of them in any way other than what it’s always been.

“Okay E, whatever you say, pal. Can we stop now?” I rolled my eyes, avoiding eye contact.

He nodded, sat back into the couch and continued devouring his toast.

A few minutes later a much more clothed Grayson walked into the living room, head buried in his phone. As usual

“Hey Gray, Y/N made avocado toast. Holy shit it’s so good. Oh yeah, I also ate yours” Ethan said.

I looked up from my laptop, I hadn’t even realized Ethan had eaten Graysons.

“Jesus E, you’re such a pig. Gray I’ll make you another one, just give me a minute” I said play punching Ethan’s shoulder and picking up the now two empty plates.

Grayson didn’t say anything, just nodded and kept his eyes on his phone.

The boy had a phone addiction. Ethan and I often tried to guess what was so important that he couldn’t be pulled away from it most of the day. Girlfriend? Porn? We had a bet going, I had bet he had a girlfriend no one knew about, and of course, Ethan was betting on the porn.

_________________________________________

I popped a piece of toast into the toaster oven and went to the pantry to grab another avocado. I turned to go back to the empty plate when I bumped into a chest.

“Holy shit! Gray, I’m sorry, I’m just grabbing another avocado, give me a minute I’ll whip you up another toast,” I rambled. What is wrong with me today?

“Hey, I can do that. I’m sorry Ethan is a jerk and ate mine. I appreciate you making us breakfast, but I’m an adult I really can make my own” he said.

That was something I liked about Grayson, he was so genuine. Of course, he was a goof and had his moments of being an overgrown child, but I swear he was an old soul. He just didn’t think or talk like most guys his age.

“No really, let me do it. I feel like it’s part of my job anyway” I shrugged and brushed past him back towards the toaster oven.

“No, your job is to keep our heads out of our asses, not make us breakfast” he laughed.

I smiled with my back towards him. He was right. That really was my job, but I always felt like doing these extra things for them. They always went above and beyond for me, it was the least I could do.

I shrugged him off and continued making the toast anyway. When I finished I turned to find him leaned against the counter watching me. He had been so silent I didn’t even know he was there. I jumped.

“HOLY SHIT GRAY! YOU COULD HAVE SAID SOMETHING! SUPER SLEUTH OVER HERE” I yelled.

“Sorry, sorry, I was just watching the master practicing her craft” he chuckled.

“Oh yeah, that’s me, master avocado toast maker” I scoffed, handing him his plate.

“You are actually an excellent cook” He smirked taking a huge bite of his toast

“Omg, It’s just like the best. I don’t know what it is but yours always tastes the best” he said through a mouthful of toast, rolling his eyes upwards in pure enjoyment.

“It’s the extra love I put in it for you two goons” I winked as I walked back out towards the living room with Grayson in tow.

We both stopped, rolled our eyes, and laughed when we found Ethan asleep on the couch.

Part 2

[rydenstories]

We should have never played in the junkyard.

REDDIT

Trash could've been my first name growing up.

It wasn't the way I carried myself and it wasn't the way my family was. Sure, we were poor, but we weren't dirty or anything. It was just that stupid town we lived in. Rural, but rich. If your parents didn't either own a farm or work on one, you were considered one of the poor kids. The trash.

Of course, there are choices that didn't help my reputation. Call it teen rebellion I guess, but sometimes I think I tried to out-trash people's opinions once I got older.

That's how I, along with my best friend Mick, started hanging out at the junk yard.

Now it wasn't really a junk yard, not officially. The woman who owned the land was a hoarder and that's putting it generously. I mean acres upon acres of land with just.... stuff on it. Rusted down cars by the dozen, broken appliances, and other piles upon piles of junk.

Delia, a wispy haired woman with a thick southern accent, owned the land. Growing up, we heard all kinds of stories about her. Mostly that she was some kind of witch, though the adults just said she was crazy. I'd overheard my mother talking about her many times after crossing paths at the market or whatever. "Such a nice lady. It's sad she's so nuts. All that money and all that land, but she's too focused on crap!"

And she really was. Hell, most people in town stopped throwing certain stuff out because they knew she'd just come pick it up before the trash men could come. Instead, they opted to drop things off. That's actually how our fascination got sparked.

Let me point out that Mick's parents were never around. Dad was a trucker, mom worked double shifts. Me being an only child, and my mom almost always being home to care for me, Mick was essentially my brother and was always with me, from kindergarten on. That's why he was with me that day, when my dad was dropping off our old fridge. The coils that kept the freezer cold had finally crapped out for the last time.

Delia came out from a trail of trashy treasures poking out of overgrown grass. She gave my father a smile that was magnetic and I was completely enamored with her life, as was Mick. I mean, from everything I'd learned so far, I'd assumed that she'd be wild and unhappy. At least embarrassed by her situation. This woman radiated positivity. I mean, I'd seen her before in town and she LOOKED happy, but she truly had this energy that was hard to hate.

Later that same week, Mick and I hopped some fences until we got onto Delia's property. You didn't need a map to know, you could see the pile-up from a mile away. Exploring her land was something we'd talked about from the minute Dad took us back home. We were both 14 and a little too old to be playing pretend, but we couldn't stop coming up with ideas for how we could make the junk yard our battlegrounds.

We went a few times without being caught. We sneaked around and there was a definitive thrill we both derived from the fear. However, when Delia found the two of us, using garbage piles as barricades for an imaginary war, she was still bright and positive. We both quickly stopped our play and did as kids often do; lined up to be reprimanded. Instead, she put a hand on Mick's shoulder. "Ain't much to do 'round here, eh?" We both shook our heads.

"Ayup. Always been like this. If you kids are really lookin' to have some fun, you might wanna walk about five minutes that-a way." She pointed further into her land. "Cars'n stuff are a little less rusted. Don't want you kids getting some kind of infection on my watch." She smiled and turned away, starting off in a different direction. Mick spoke up. "Wait, we can play here?"

Delia turned, same smile still on her face. "Well sure! Just be careful and respectful of my things, y'understand?" We both nodded and she set off again, stopping every so often to check out a discarded item before gently placing it back down and continuing on her winding but meticulous path.

She'd been right, just heading a couple minutes into the junkyard provided with newer garbage, and other landscapes that seemed almost like something out of fantasy. Our imaginations ran wild. We hung out there almost every day. Most, we wouldn't even see Delia. I mean, there was just so much land and so much to do there. Our paths rarely crossed.

Still, we'd see other people around sometimes. We weren't the only cast-offs to find a refuge there. Sometimes, you'd find homeless people sleeping in abandoned cars and campers. People would also look for junk parts. It wasn't that abnormal to have your play be interrupted by someone wandering.

We found a huge expanse of field that was nothing but refrigerators and other appliances. Newer, older, and in various stages of rust. We'd imagine that they were trees and that we were chasing one another through the forest, a bounty hunter and an escaped convict. I was getting ready to turn the corner around an old Frigidaire and "arrest" Mick when the creaking, moaning sound of rust broke the both of us out of our imaginative story-line.

Mick stood up from his knelt position and came up next to me as I turned myself around to search for the source of the sound. My eyes searched between rusted husks until they landed one one of those old 60's models, the ones that look like a spaceship. The door had open just a crack before stopping.

I started to turn away when the groaning noise returned again. Sure enough, the door was opening.

The door creaked a little further and I could see fingers curled around, holding on and cautiously opening from inside. Fear had turned my body heavy as stone, but the sight made Mick yelp. The fingers quickly pulled back into the fridge and the door slammed closed again.

We stayed like statues in place for a while, waiting for the door to open again, but it didn't. Arming ourselves with nearby scrap metal, the both of us crept over to the fridge and pulled on the door. It didn't want to give way until the two of us pulled with both hands. It was stuck shut good and creaked much, much louder when we opened it.

The inside was bare, nothing, no person. Just rust.

Neither of us wanted to admit to how frightened we were, but we weren't exactly ready to just resume play either, so we quietly backed off of the area and ran home.

It was probably the longest time we'd spent away from Delia's land. Being away didn't stop us from constantly speculating, once we knew we were safe, of course. There were moments where we rationalized to the best of our ability, but it didn't take long for that to descend into stranger explanations when rationality clearly couldn't apply anymore. We had to go back.

It's strange. Delia's land is so expansive, that it's kind of hard to find the same place two days in a row. We found other fields of fridges and other appliances, but not that field with that refrigerator. It took two weeks and almost forgetting about it entirely for us to stumble upon it once again.

We both went straight to that same old fridge. It looked like it could have been blue in it's heyday, but years of rust and sunshine had faded it away. The door had been closed again. It wasn't nearly as hard for the two of us to get open this time and we found it unsurprisingly empty.

The two of us stood there in silence for a moment before it seemed like Mick got an idea. "Close me inside!" He climbed in before I could protest and started trying to pull the door closed on himself, which clearly wasn't working. I didn't immediately step forward to help and instead protested. "What if the door gets stuck? How am I gonna explain that to my mom?"

He laughed as he continued to try to pull the door closed, rocking the fridge and nearly knocking it over. "I can hold my breath a real real long time, you'll figure out the rest."

Sighing, I resigned myself to closing the door on him, though not all the way initially. I could hear him from inside. "All the way! All the way!" The door touched the frame and settled there. I stepped back and stood again in silence.

A few seconds passed.

"Hey? What's it like?" No answer, not even a muffled one. I rolled my eyes and stepped back towards the fridge, grabbing and yanking the door back open with surprising ease. "Yeah, you're not gonna scare me-"

Empty.

For a moment, it was like my brain just stopped functioning. I stared dumbly at the rusted back of the old fridge. Before my thoughts arranged themselves, I already felt myself stepping forward and touching the inside, pushing hard against the back. Smacking it. Punching it in a frightened panic.

I started yelling for Mick. Yelling into the empty fridge until rationality started to pull me back again. I backed off and began searching the other appliances, tearing doors open and frantically yelling for my friend. I opened every single damn door on every fridge, deep freeze unit, and oven with no luck. He wasn't behind them, or among the outlying piles of trash. He was just gone.

As if on cue, or maybe even her own instinct, Delia approached from somewhere unseen. "What's goin' on here? Y'all gotta find somewhere else to play." She stopped and looked around at all the open doors, concerned. "Hey.... where's that other kid?"

I started to break down. I could barely explain through the sudden burbles of sobs that were coming from somewhere inside my gut. My mind couldn't make sense of what was happening, but Delia didn't seem particularly shocked and just sighed before going around and closing all the doors, shaking her head as she got to her work. She kept repeating "This is bad. This is real bad for us, kid."

Once all the doors were closed again, she came back over to me. "Show me which unit he went into." I lead her over to the spacey 60's fridge. She closed and opened the door a few times with no change. She backed off and sat down on an old toaster oven. At first, I thought she was deep in worried thought, but after fifteen minutes or so, it became clear that she was waiting for something.

Then, there it was again. The creak and groan of a rusted hinge, trying desperately to open against time's toll. Only this time, it was one of those meat storage freezers that open from the top. Whatever was crouched inside had pushed the lid open just a sliver. Glossy, silver bauble-like eyes peered out from the darkness inside. They were round and wide, with no iris or pupils to the cascaded swirl of chrome color that made them up.

Just as the lid started to close again, Delia leap't to her feet and barreled towards the freezer. It noticed, tried to retreat faster, but couldn't disappear before the surprisingly spry old woman had yanked the door open entirely and peered inside. Her face was painted with both fear and fury as she shouted inside. "Don't you dare run, you coward bitch!"

A scream erupted from somewhere deep inside the freezer, high pitched and almost metallic sounding. A black, disgustingly contorted hand reached up toward Delia and gripped her hard on her arm. It yanked her a little, but she wasn't budging. Instead, she reached her other arm down with it. "You give that kid back, god damn it!"

It was clear that she was trying to pull the thing out.

Every instinct told me to run, but I couldn't move. My legs had become jelly beneath me and I'd knelt down moments before without noticing.

She'd gotten some good pull on the thing and I was starting to become overwhelming frightened that I would have to see those disgusting chrome eyeballs again, but it seemed it had also started to realize that she had the upper hand. It let go of her arm and she let it go in turn. Then, she was holding onto something heavy, pulling it up to the surface.

He'd come up headfirst, Delia pulling him under the shoulders with all of her might. Mick was unconscious and dirty, looking as if he'd been gone for days, although it hadn't been more than an hour. As the last of his legs came up, she collapsed backwards and barely dodged his body toppling onto her. My own body was finally responding to my brain again and I sprinted over to them. She was already trying to shake him awake with no response.

It was only when I knelt down and began begging him to wake up did his eyes start to flutter. Then, his entire face scrunched up in pain as blood began to pool from his tear ducts and run down his face. Pain overwhelmed his body and he screamed.

"My eyes! My fucking eyes!"

Delia quickly rose to her feet and began to leave.

"Stay with him. I'm calling 911. You better come up with a good story by the time they get here, kid."

I tried to comfort him through his wails and pain, but I was overwhelmed and terribly frightened. I could stop my eyes from darting between each and every appliance in the field, terrified of seeing those swirly, sickly baubles peeking out again.

[tamakirishima]

DDIWT headcanon their first date please!!!!

AHHHH just thinking of this makes me warm and fuzzy cause the DDIWT boys are all so adorable! This is so long, so I’m sorry for the long read T____T I hope you enjoy!!~ :) 

——————————————————————————————-

Ichigo:

“What kind of a first date is it where I have to pick him up?” you muttered, under your breath on the way to Ichigo’s house. 

Ichigo lived on the other side of town, and despite the town being small enough to walk from place to place, you were lazy. You sighed when you got to the familiar front gate, and pressed them bell continuously until you heard a scream from inside. 

“Quit it! I’m coming!” 

You smirked and crossed your arms. You didn’t want to be this petty, but it was kinda fun. Especially when it made Ichigo get mad. 

“Was that necessary?” he asked, with an annoyed expression. 

“Well hello to you too!” you replied. 

Ichigo moved aside and swung his arm around to indicate that you could enter. His apron was wrapped around his body with a couple of flour marks smeared on it, and his hair was lightly touched up on. 

A sweet and warm aroma immediately hugged you upon entering the house, and you couldn’t wait to try what Ichigo was baking in the oven. 

“What is that? It smells so good!” you moaned, rushing to see what it was. 

Upon turning around, you saw Ichigo hold out an apron for you. His cheeks spread with a red glow, and his eyes darted back and forth between the floor and the oven. You stuck your neck into the hole and let Ichigo tie the loose ends at the back. 

“So…what are we doing…?” you asked, brushing your hands on the front pocket. 

“Well, I know how much you like our cakes and I wanted to make them with you…but if you don’t want to, you can just eat them once they’re done.” 

You laughed out loud, and soon Ichigo joined as well. 

“I’m going to make it, but you can’t make fun of me if it looks weird, okay?” you said, holding out your pinky for a promise. 

“I promise.” Ichigo said, with a boyish grin. “But I’m not eating it if it looks weird.” 

Haruki:

The clear blue sky warmly greeted you from above, as the spring air whirled around you as you walked through town. Your new blue sundress sway from side to side with every step you took, attracting the eyes of everyone around you. You hurried over to the flower shop that Haruki’s family owned to meet up with Haruki. It was a tad bit too early, but you couldn’t wait or else the butterflies would gnaw away at your stomach until you got sick. It wasn’t long until you saw Haruki walk out the door, holding a beautiful bouquet of bright red tulips. 

“______? What are you doing here?” Haruki asked, confused. “I was going to pick you up.” 

“I got ready earlier than I expected so I just…” you trailed off, looking down and kicking a pebble with your foot. 

Haruki handed you the tulips and smiled warmly. 

“These are for you.”

You blushed and took the flowers, thanking him softly. Haruki gently took your hand and squeezed it. You looked up into his face and smiled back at him. Somehow the nervous energy left and a feeling of comfort took its place. 

You two walked along the river and into the woods with beautiful bright flowers all around you as you walked. The two of you sat down on a bench where the breeze hit your face and the sun shined in your eyes. 

“Did you know that every flower has a different meaning? Daisies are a symbol of innocence and purity, while Amaryllis means extreme beauty.” Haruki said, looking out into the field of flowers. 

“Well…what does this mean?” you asked, pointing at the red tulips sitting on your lap. 

Haruki smiled to himself. He held your hand and touched the side of your face. 

“It means perfect and true love.”

Ryuzo:

“What…is…this…?” you asked in utter belief as Ryuzo shoved a bundle of carrots in your face. 

“I thought girls liked presents on dates!” Ryuzo replied, also in utter disbelief.

You smacked your hand to your forehead and started laughing. How could he do this one thing and make you so happy? This idiot brought carrots to you and you couldn’t stop smiling. 

“Thanks, Ryuzo. They’re lovely.” you said, still laughing to yourself. 

“I was debating between carrots or eggplants, but I’m glad you like it!” Ryuzo exclaimed, without a clue in the world as to why you were laughing 2 minutes ago. 

You swallowed another laugh and took Ryuzo’s hand, causing his cheeks and ears to turn beet red.

As you walked along the river with one hand in Ryuzo’s and one hand holding a bundle of carrots, you found a nice field, where a picnic basket was set nicely on a checkered picnic blanket. 

“I wanted to cook you something, because you cook for me and my family all the time. It-It won’t be as good though, so don’t complain if it tastes bad!” 

“Anything you make will be good! Thank you!” you replied, sitting down and opening up the riceballs and taking a big bite. 

The sour vinegar punched you in the mouth and nose after taking the first bite, leaving you coughing and on the verge of crying. Ryuzo sprung up to pat you on the back when you were hacking your lungs up. 

“I-I told you it wasn’t good..!!” Ryuzo said, a bit embarrassed after you drank some water and stopped coughing. 

“Well…it’s a good thing we have these.” you replied, holding up the carrots. 

Rihito:

It was the weekend, so it appeared to be busier than normal on the small streets of your town. You were waiting in front of Black Ship, when you felt a warmth enveloping your hand. You snatched your hand back and yelped a bit, but to show only a pouty Rihito. 

“Richy!” you cried out, placing a hand over your heart. “You scared me.” 

Rihito smiled charmingly at you and took the hand off your heart and into his hand. He squeezed it tightly, making your heart flutter up and down. Ugh how was he so calm?! 

You looked down and cleared your throat. 

“So where are we going?” you asked.

“It’s a secret. Let’s walk this way.” Rihito said, guiding you away from the crowd to an alleyway. 

You couldn’t help but look at Rihito’s side profile as the two of you walked hand in hand in the dark and humid alley. His soft golden curls bounced up and down with every step he took, his lips turned up in a sweet smile, and his perfect fitted jeans and button down looked amazing on him. It was like he was meant to wear that outfit, him and only him. 

“Do you like me that much?” Rihito asked, smirking since he caught you staring. You quickly looked away and pushed him away. 

The two of you walked further away from the busy main streets of the town to a small house with a stunning garden and a grand wooden door. Upon entering the house, you saw a lone white piano in the middle with snacks and soda on the coffee table. You sat down on the nearby sofa while Rihito took his place at the piano bench. 

“This is a song I’ve been working on and… I want to dedicate it to you, ______.” Rihito said, quietly and lovingly, before working his magic on the keys to your song. 

Takeshi:

Takeshi was never the type to be super romantic, so you didn’t really expect anything for the first date. You were incredibly nervous that you wanted to puke, but you knew you would have a good time as long as he was with you. 

“_____!” 

You turned around to see Takeshi jogging up to you in front of Black Ship and smiling quickly before going back to his regular ‘idontcare’ face. The two of you walked away from your house to go to where Takeshi planned your date, and it was incredibly awkward. You were trying your best to make conversation, but Takeshi wasn’t really making it easy to, so you guys were now walking in silence. 

“Huh?” you muttered, knowing where you guys were going now. 

The treehouse was still the same after a decade of abandonment, and a wave of nostalgia struck you. You were still in awe when you heard Takeshi yell out from the ladder on the tree. 

“Are you coming?!” 

When did he get there? Were you spacing out that long? You hurried to catch up with Takeshi and climbed the ladder swiftly before opening the wooden door to the entrance. The place was mostly the same, except for the tons of comic books, fresh sandwiches, snacks, and Takeshi covered in pillows and blankets. You couldn’t help but laugh. 

“What is all this?” you asked, amused. 

Takeshi just looked around the room and looked up at you before replying. 

“I wanted to take you someplace special, but I just felt like I wanted it to be somewhere private and special to both of us. Not just a restaurant or a cafe, but someplace…special.” Takeshi said. 

His voice remained calm, but his cheeks and ears turned bright red as he finished replying. You couldn’t help but smile and blush a little at his thoughtfulness and nod. 

Takeshi was an action based person rather than a word/speak based person, so you sat down next to him and squeezed his hand. The whole day was filled with occasional deep conversations and lots of comic books, and you wouldn’t have wished for a better day. 

Johji:

It was the first time going on a date with an older guy, and it was so different than the other dates you’ve been on with guys your age. Johji picked you up to go to a small and elegant Italian restaurant on the outskirts of town. The restaurant had a dress code, so you were squeezed into black heels and your homecoming dress from last year. Needless to say, you were incredibly uncomfortable. 

The car pulled up to the restaurant, and you stumbled out in your heels to see a restaurant that you never thought you would go to anytime soon. 

“Shall we?” Johji asked, holding your arm. 

The interior was beautifully decorated and the scent of basil greeted you, but you could barely focus on anything except your feet that were probably bleeding internally. 

The food came out rather quickly and it was delicious, but you couldn’t feel your feet anymore. You had to go home. Or change. 

“______? What’s wrong?” Johji asked, concerned after seeing you wince in pain.

“It’s nothing.” you replied, still wincing. 

“It’s not nothing. Are you hurt?” 

“Um…my feet hurt real bad.. I think I need to change or something. You can stay though! It’s fine!” you replied, not wanting to ruin Johji’s night.

Johji smiled and called the waiter over, asking to take everything to-go before helping you back to the car. Once you guys reached Black Ship, you felt awful for ruining your date. You bowed and apologized, when Johji reached over and shook his head. 

“I ruined it.. I’m really sorry. I should have worn the flats, but I wanted to impress you so-” you rambled, until Johji put up a hand. 

“______. You didn’t ruin anything. It’s better being at home comfortable, isn’t it? So I should be thanking you and those horrible heels.” 

You nodded and snuggled closer to Johji on the couch, with a box of lasagna. It really did taste better at home. 

[tidsoptlmist]

It’s a Boy-Girl Thing - E.D.

Authors note: I’M BACK! for those who care: my holiday was sO MUCH FUN OH MY GOD!! I had the bEST time!!! sadly school has started again and i’m drowning in homework again!!! 

disclaimer 1: over these past few weeks I’ve received so many asks about whether or not I was still gonna update this: the answer is YES!

I hate the feeling of letting you all wait or maybe letting you down when i’m not posting as often as i (and you) would want me to. 

the things is that (and this might come as a shocker) actually do have a life outside of tumblr. I’m in my senior year of high school and I trying to get good grades, so I can get into a good university next year...

I do love writing this and I am so excited to continue writing this story (and more!!) and I will not stop until this story is finished!!! I promise ahha!! I see those messages as a compliment (bc apparently you all like this very much and want to read more) but sometimes they make me feel a little bad/stressed because i feel like I’m let you all down... so yea..... I hope you all understand! 

(what im trying to say is that i dont really mind those asks but at the same time it won't help asking bc YES i will be updating: but only when I’m able to...) (which will be regularly again next week!!!!) (promise)

disclaimer 2: this wasn't proofread so my apologies for any (loads of) spelling/grammar error!!!!! im a dyslectic assclown who cant spell to safe their own life so yea... just a lil heads up

Part 9 一 ANIMOSITY

Summary: Ethan and Y/N are neighbors. And although Y/N is on good terms with Ethan’s twin brother Grayson, Y/N and Ethan loathe each other and are constantly in dispute. Ethan is a populair varsity football player, who likes to be in the spotlight. Y/N prefers to stay under the radar, while reading books and poetry.

Although the constant bickering between the two drives everyone around them crazy - the two live their separate lives peacefully. At least that’s how it was until they wake up one morning and every had changed…

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6 || PART 7 || PART 8 || PART 9 || PART 10

You liked sports. You honestly liked being active. But not in late summer, when it was hot like an oven outside and the air humid.

You could feel the sweat dripping down your back, your shirt completely drenched. Your heart beat banging in your head and your legs shaking. You squint your eyes against the intense sunset.

Ethan had made you run around the field all afternoon. He had made you run laps, do pushups, situps and all different sorts of exercises which names you had forgotten right after Ethan said you could stop doing them. After finishing you had dropped yourself next to Ethan on the grass: completely worn out.

‘What are you doing?’ Ethan had asked.

‘I’m taking a break. Actually, not even a break: I’m done! I think if I continue I might get a heart attack or something,’ you breath still went rapidly.

Ethan just laughed while grabbing a water bottle from the cooler he had taken with him. ‘What are you on about? This was the warming up!’ He threw a cold bottle of water next to you in the grass. Your hands quickly opened it and you gulped down half of the bottle before glaring at Ethan.

‘I’m definitely warm…’ You mumbled annoyed.

Slowly you had gotten up from the grass and Ethan had made you catch footballs for an hour. The sun was now setting and your whole body ached. You fell onto the bench at the side of the field.

‘I don’t think I’ll ever be able to leave this bench. I can’t carry your body anymore Eth,’ you sighed and wiped your forehead with his shirt. It didn’t help much: your shirt was completely soak. Ethan stood in front of you, grinning. Silently you watched the sunset behind the hills.

‘Let’s go home,’ you said, getting up. You grabbed your bag and looked at Ethan. He was still smiling at you. ‘I thought you said “you were never gonna be able to get off that bench”,’ he chucked at you. You rolled your eyes, but couldn't help but let a smile creep on your face.

‘We really need to head home though. Grayson said something about a party this morning and I think he really wants to go,’ you say as you walk towards the parking lot where Ethan had parked your car earlier.

‘Who’s hosting the party?’ Ethan asked you, eyeing your in a curious manner.

‘Austin, I think…’ You say, trying to remember what Grayson had said this morning. ‘He said Austin invited you both. And that it would be a big party. Apparently his parents are out of town.’

‘You should go,’ Ethan says, as he opens the trunk. You put the footballs and bottles of water and other training gear in the trunk.

‘I don’t want to go,’ you say in all honesty. Ethan rolls his eyes as he closes the trunk again.

‘Grayson and I never go somewhere alone-’

‘Yea, that’s kinda weird: you two should try to being more independent,’ you cut him off. Ethan eyes you angrily - irritated that you cut him off, but ignores your comment.

‘Like I said, before you cut me off: we never go somewhere alone. If Grayson wants to go: you go with him,’ Ethan says as he walks towards the driver seat. You walk towards passengers seat and get into your car.

‘I don’t like those kind of parties! What do you want me to do while I’m there?! Also; this could only go wrong. Someone will definitely notice something’s off!’ You tell him, trying to convince him why you shouldn’t go to Austin’s party.

‘You can try talking to some girls?’ Ethan suggests chuckeling, but quickly comes back from his idea: ‘Wait, no! Don’t talk to girls! You’ll for sure embarrass me!’

You glare at him. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Y/N, you might have a 4.0 on your GPA but you definitely don’t have a 4.0 in flirting,’ Ethan laughs at his own joke.

‘I’m not that bad….’ You say softly.

‘You know what, I’ll go to the party as well. That way I can keep an eye on you so you don’t embarrass me too much.’ Ethan says. You give him another glare. Annoyed how he won’t trust you.

The field wasn’t far from your home. Ethan parked in front of the Dolan house and you got out of the car.

‘Do you need to pick an outfit for tonight too - or do you trust me to pick one out myself without embarrassing you?’ You snarled at him. Ethan looked unimpressed by your remark.

‘Nah, you’re good,’ he simply said, pushing a strand of your long hair out of his face. In the days that he had been trapped in your body, he had only wore your hair down. It was now that you relised it was probably because he didn’t know how to tie a ponytail with long hair. You huffed and walked towards the trunk where you got the footballs and other training gear.

You walked towards the Dolan house without saying goodbye to Ethan. You dumped the training gear in the garage and walked immediately upstairs. You grabbed a clean pair of undrwear and some basketball shorts and walked towards the shower.

You took a quick shower - the same way you did that morning. This time the towel didn’t drop and you got the underwear on in one go. You stood infront of Ethan’s side of the sink and sprayed on some cologne. You closed your eyes as you inhaled the scent: it was smelled very good.

You walked out of the bathroom and layed down on Ethan’s bed. The party wouldn’t start till 9:30 - so you had a good three hours to kill.

Before you really could think of something to do, Grayson barched into the room. These boys left eachother no privacy did they?!

‘E,’ he exclaimed as he jumbed on the bed next to you, ‘wanna play some video games?’

And before you knew it, you were walking towards Grayson’s room. It was practially the same as Ethan - but with different colored bedsheets and instead of a poster of a motercycle there was a poster of old looking car. You recognised Grayson’s Ford Bronco - altough the one on the poster was red in color. Grayson turned the PlayStation on and handed you a controller.

‘Dude!!’ Grayson yelled at you. You stared at the screen. “YOU DIED” it read in thic red letters.

‘I swear I shot them first! I don’t know how I died?!’ You said annoyed.

‘Why are you so bad at this game?! Did you lose all your skills while haning out with Y/N today or something?!’ Grayson said jokingly, although he stilled looked a little annoyed at you for losing.

‘No,’ you mumbed while restarting the game. Playing video games was more fun then you innitionally thought it would be. Grayson was good company too, chatting away about his day.

‘How is Y/N doing?’ Grayson asks suddenly. You huff, concentrating on the game, ‘she’s good.’

Grayson falls back on the bed, starring at the ceiling, ‘she looks good.’

His comment makes you forget the game and within a second the red letters spelling out “YOU LOST” fill the tv screen again.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ You ask Grayson, confused. Grayson gives you a ‘like you don’t know what I’m talking about’-look. You gave him the ‘I-really-don’t-have-a-fucking-clue-what-you’re-talking-about-so-tell-me-now’-kind of look.

‘You said it yourself E: she has a good ass!’

You look at him in shock. It was weird hearing Grayson making comments about your ass - well just any ass - without getting red and flushed.

‘I never said that!’ Ethan would never say something like that about you!

‘Yea you did, like three days ago,’ Grayson says while taking the controller from you hands. ‘But don’t worry, I won’t tell Sophia tonight.’ He chuckles at his own joke. He walked towards the PlayStation and turns it off.

‘Is she gonna be there too?’ You mentally roll your eyes. Your energy level for this party just dropped to minus 6.

‘Yea, so let’s have some diner and get ready for this party,’ Grayson says as he walks out of his room. When he’s halfway down the stairs you hear him laugh and say:

‘and don’t forget to bring protection! We don’t want any surprises in 9 months!’

thank you for reading!! leave a comment if you feel like it!! 

please read the DISCLAIMER at the top!!

also: 

- i wrote a short grayson imagine but its not that good should i still post it???

- do you guys want me to make a master list? if so: let me know!! my ask

TAGS : @asapethan , @gabrielle-stark & @coconutethan here you go babes!!

[lemonsandstrawberries]

My favorite hero

fandom: Stony (Steve x Tony), MCU (if you want to imagine timeline CA:WS will be good)

summary: Tony and Steve have a free evening for each other until Tony receives a certain letter that can change everything Steve thought about his boyfriend.

length: 2 049 words

a/n: first fic on the new blog, aaaah!! inspired by this art by @steve-sketchbooks . and also dedicated to the person behind the blog, because Yuki helped me set up this account and drew the adorable mini me you can see in my avatar and at the side of this of this blog, and I am super grateful for having her as a friend! love you, loser!! this is also influenced by CA:WS, because I was rewatching the movie for the museum scene and somehow made myself sad, blah. hope you like this fic!!

——–

My favorite hero

"Babe, I am back! Got the tomatoes!"

"Great! Bring them over here!"

Steve turned light steps into the kitchen. It was one of those sweet days when no disaster had happened, and Tony and Steve could spend the evening together, deciding on cooking a meal instead of ordering it. And somehow it was so like Tony to come up with an idea of preparing spaghetti and Neapolitan sauce and forgetting to buy the main ingredient. He didn't forget some fancy parmesan for garnish, expensive olive oil for garlic bread, but he forgot the basic ingredient for the sauce. Somehow, Steve wasn't even surprised and just went out for a quick run to the nearest supermarket.

"How is it going?" he asked, walking to Tony and standing behind his boyfriend's back, peering into the pots.

"Bread in the oven, water for pasta boiling, garlic and onion almost translucent," Tony listed, stirring the bits of chopped onion and crushed garlic in a skillet, filling the kitchen with a yummy scent. "You can open the tomatoes and chop some basil."

Steve smiled, feeling that those were not the words Tony got to say too often, but it did sound good in his mouth. Domestic.

"By the way, there is a letter addressed to you," Steve remembered, putting the can with chopped tomatoes on the table and pulling out, a slightly crumpled, letter from his pocket.

"A letter?" Tony asked, deciding that onions and garlic got golden enough and snapped fingers into his palms, urging Steve to hand him the tomatoes faster. "I don't get letters."

Steve couldn't help but smile at the comment. Of course, his futurist boyfriend didn't get any letters. Tony was a strict email person or handled everything via video calls. Regular post was too slow for his liking.

"But you did," Steve put the opened can into Tony's hand, watching the brunet tip it and dump the red pulp into the skillet, making the oil sizzle. Soon the kitchen started to smell like tomatoes and garlic.

"Hmmm. Open it," Tony said, using the spatula to crush the tomatoes chunks.

"Are you sure?" Steve asked, halfway to prepare a basil cutting station. Somehow it felt too invasive.

"Sure, I am sure. It is probably an invitation somewhere and you won't have a different choice than to go with me, so it's better for you to prepare in advance."

"You are probably right," Steve agreed, holding back a chuckle at the way Tony scoffed out 'probably', mocking him. He took the letter. "It is from the Smithsonian Museum."

"Smithsonian…" Tony repeated thoughtfully. What did the museum want from him?

After opening the letter, Steve started to read out loud. "Dear Mr Stark. On the behalf of the Smithsonian museum, I would like to express my deepest gratitude for your generous donation of priceless memorabilia to---"

Oh, that's what.

"NOO!!" Tony wailed, dropping the spatula into the sauce and darting to Steve, wrenching the letter out.

Too late.

"--- the Captain America exhibit," Steve ended, even if the letter wasn't in front of him any longer, his expression of pure surprise.

’Captain America - the living legend and symbol of courage’. He remembered that exhibit. It contained all the things from his life in the army, basically every item that was ever promoted with his image, and original tapes of his gigs from selling war bonds.

"Tony," Steve looked at his boyfriend, who was angrily scrunching the letter in his hands, muttering something about medieval methods of communication. "That exhibit belongs to you?"

Tony paused and dropped his head in shame. It was a talk he never hoped to happen. "I --- I just sponsor it. And donated some things from my collection---"

"Your collection?"

Oops.

"You didn't hear anything!" Tony snapped his head up, brown eyes narrowing in anger at Steve's stretching smile. "Don't even---"

"Your collection," Steve repeated, his smile taking almost half of his face. "You mean there is more?"

"No!"

"There is more!" Steve laughed cheerfully, slapping his hands on his thigh in triumph. "I am your favorite superhero!"

"Oh for the--- No, you are not! And I was young and stupid when I collected those things!"

"Oh, really?"

Tony winced at how quickly and quietly Steve suddenly appeared in front of him. Stupid super soldier serum.

"Then how come you still sponsor that exhibit?" Steve asked, smiling brightly.

"Stop it," Tony chocked out, looking to the side, planning his escape before his face would completely get consumed by red color and resemble the tomato sauce.

"That's so cute."

"Shut up."

"You are adorable. You always had a crush on me, didn't you?"

"Oh please! If I had a crush on anyone, it was Captain America, you, you I barely tolerate!"

"But I am Captain America," Steve teased further, trying to get a reaction out of Tony and gently poking his stomach. "How does it feel to date your favorite hero?"

"St-stop it!" Tony ordered, his face finally becoming red as he tried to slap Steve's hands away and wriggle out. "St-STEVE!"

"Not until you admit that you are my biggest fan," Steve insisted with a huge grin, deciding to cut the teasing already. He used both hands to pin into Tony's sides and wriggled fingers into the soft skin.

"NO!" Tony managed to yell out before laughter took over him. He was trapped between Steve's body and the counter, and while it wasn't a bad situation in itself, he would hope for different circumstances. "Staahahahap!"

"Not until you tell me what I want to hear," Steve kept smiling, enjoying as always the ticklish secret about his boyfriend. Which everyone knew. Which didn't make it a secret anymore. Still, it was incredibly sweet and he loved making Tony squirm.

"Fahahaahaahack!" Tony laughed, pushing on blond's chest uselessly, unable to defend himself from the attack. "Steve, Steve, no, please!" he managed to get out incoherently, when fingers clawed at his stomach, just in that spot where it was particularly unbearable. "BWAHAHAHA!!"

In such moments, Steve was incredibly grateful that Tony was so stubborn. It made the fun longer for both of them.

"Tooonyyyyy," Steve sang, drilling his fingers into the slightly pudgy belly, before delivering another ticklish attack, "you know what I want to hear. Just say it and I will stop."

It was either utter humiliation or die laughing. At least in Tony's eyes. From Steve's perspective, the situation was a whole less serious and a whole lot sweeter.

"Ohkahahahay!!" Tony gave up, barely able to stand anymore. The assault was not long, but precise and focused on his weakest spots, which made it too devastating. Stupid Steve and his expert strategy.

True to his words, Steve stopped. He kept his hands over Tony's sides, just in case. "Well?" he asked, lightly drumming fingers over the skin.

"You said you will stooahahp!" Tony wriggled, pressing arms down to his sides, nose scrunching as the last word was laced with a giggle.

Steve only smiled at the cute reaction. Someone was too ticklish for words to describe. "I will stop," he made a decision and took a step back, raising hands up so Tony could see them. "Now, spill it."

Tony huffed out a puff of air, trying to calm himself down. He would prefer if Steve stayed closer to him so he could hide into his boyfriend's chest and mutter out the embarrassing confession and end this sorry moment. But noo, Steve had to look at him.

With a sorry whine, Tony dropped his head into his palms, hiding. "I… I…"

Steve waited, watching the other man with a fond smile. Flustered Tony was a rare sight.

"I..."

"Hey," Steve stepped closer and wrapped his boyfriend in a hug. "If it's too difficult, you don't have to say it," he smiled into Tony's hair, seeing how much effort the confession cost him.

"But I want to say it!" Tony burst out, looking at Steve with stubborn eyes and a blush on his face. A weirdly adorable combo, that made Steve blink in confusion.

"Steve, I---" Tony started, reaching for blond's hand and rubbing his knuckles with his thumb, focusing his eyes there for now. "This… This was going on for as long as I remember. And I didn't want you to know, because I didn't want you to think I am some kind of stalker or a freak, and like you for the Captain America part---"

"Tony---"

"--- because I like you!" Tony looked back at the stunned soldier. "I like you as you, and--- I never thought I would have a chance to like you as you and I had this whole image of you as Captain America, but you are not like Captain America---"

"I am not?" Steve asked, getting confused.

"No! I mean, you kinda are, you have to be, but--- but this is you. Stubborn and sweet and caring and--- this is the you I like," Tony rambled, getting closer and finally hiding into Steve's chest, holding to his shirt and bunching it in his fist. "And I like you and I still like Captain America, but I know you are two different people and it was hard to say for me at first where Captain America ends and where Steve Rogers starts, but now I know and---"

"Babe, it is okay, really---"

"--- and I love you."

Oh.

The silence was stretching. Before Tony could slip away, feeling that his confession was unrequited, Steve held him close.

"I love you too," he whispered into brunet's ear.

"You better, we are dating for two months," Tony muttered into Steve's shoulder, hiding that his heart started to flutter from emotions.

Steve snorted. "Try two years, babe."

"Huh. That long?"

"That long."

"How come we never said it before?"

"Because we are idiots."

Tony burst into laughter, looking up at the soldier. "And brutally honest. Should have added that to the list of what I love in you," he grinned.

Steve kept looking at Tony with a doting expression. He could write poems about what he loved in Tony. His determination. Generosity. That when he set his mind on something, he always achieved that. His good heart. He could go on and on, just like Tony could go on and on about him.

But still...

"So can you say it? Just for me?" Steve asked with a shy smile.

Tony grunted, rolling his eyes. Stubborn. He should have crossed that out from the list of things he liked about Steve. Sometimes it wasn't so good. Deep breath. "I am Captain America's biggest fan," he said in a slow voice just for Steve to savor the moment, even if his smile was more on the mocking smirk side. It was good enough, and Steve brightened, leaning down to kiss his boyfriend. "And I am lucky to date my hero," Tony continued, becoming more courageous and hoping for some more sweet rewards.

"Aw, babe," Steve kissed Tony again, feeling that he was head over heels in love with Tony Stark. "I am lucky too. I got to dine with my favorite hero," he gave his own confession, looking deep into brunet's eyes.

"Oh yeah?" Tony asked in a teasing voice, but eyes sparkling with love gave away his true feelings.

"Oh yeah," Steve repeated and nodded vigorously, squeezing Tony closer by putting his hands on the round butt. "So… Do you think we can invite Falcon over? Because he is really great and my favorite and---"

"You asshole!" Tony laughed, attempting to swat the already laughing blond, but Steve was faster and zoomed out of the kitchen, Tony closely following. And it didn't matter, that the sauce got burnt and the pasta overboiled and their kitchen became a nightmare, all that mattered was that when before it had happened, they both collapsed on the couch and made out because they both were their biggest fans and were head over heels in love with the other.

[shingeki-this-kyojin]

Happy Holidays! Have some of my Modern Collage AU!

Pairing: Springles (Sasha Blouse x Connie Springer)

Rating: G (General Audiences)

World: Modern/Collage AU

enjoy!

It was only 5:49pm and it was already pitch black outside. The wonders of Winter. Sasha stared out the kitchen window aimlessly; watching the snow fall, gazing at passersby walking down the side walk, peering up when she spotted headlights, but quickly leaned back onto the windowsill again when she could see the vehicle and that it wasn’t the one she was looking for. She played with the band around her wrist, and then switched to play with her hair that she had taken down to shower earlier that day.

She was waiting for Connie to get back to their shared dorm home. They rented it with their giant group of friends, seeing as it could fit all of them snugly with the absurd number of rooms and space held within. It was nice having a big house to goof around in and a bunch of cool people to hang out with. It was rare that no one was home, so you were guaranteed to having someone there to bug.

Lost in thought a bit, Sasha barely noticed the headlights in the driveway go off, but the change was enough to have her sit fully up from her lean and smoosh her face up against the chilly glass to get a better look. When she saw the figure digging out bags from the trunk, she knew it was Connie that had come back. More than half the house had gone out somewhere, and the other half were either decorating, or sick, or taking care of the sick.

Sasha broke into a mad sprint to the front door, swinging it open with ease. She started making her way down the walkway. After locking his car, Connie looked up at the form approaching him.

“Hey Sash! It’s freezing out here, go back in, I’m good!” he called with a big smile adoring his face.

She ignored him and continued to make her way forward. Once reaching him, she smiled brightly.

“Gimme half! I can at least help a little!” She demanded in a jolly tone.

Seeing as Marcel and Ymir were sick, Sasha opted to make them some nice soup while Connie left to shop for a few things. She felt bad not accompanying him, but the look of delight on Marcel’s face and the wonky, but genuine smile on Ymirs face with the soup offering was more than worth it. That and Porco thanking her as well in such a heartfelt way. It was nice and then funny when Pieck pointed out how sappy he looked so he retreated back into the living-room (stomped back, more like it) to continue decorating.

Connie relented and gave her about half the bags to which she happily took them, taking big strides back to the house, leaving Connie’s warnings of slowing down and not slipping as well as his comment on how he’d be in the house by now on deaf ears.

Once inside, they were greeted with Porco yelling to “close the damn door” and Pieck welcoming Connie back from the living-room. Connie greeted them both back as he knocked his boot against the outside trim before making his way in. He kicked his boots off, like Sasha did, and dropped his half of the bags off onto the counter. Sasha was already unloading them and placing food into the fridge or freezer or cupboard or wherever they needed to go.

“Ohh! Thanks for the measuring stuff, Reiner still couldn’t find that spoon set that he swore he had. Plus we really needed some big measuring cups.” She exclaimed. Connie grinned back at her in response as he unloaded the bags before him. Placing the bags of chips in the counter top, Connie peered over to Sasha who had collected a number of things and was lining them up on the island.

“Wait, you wanna make the cookies now?” he asked, eyeing up all the ingredients needed for Gingerbread.

“YES! This is what I’ve been waiting for!” She exclaimed, overjoyed.

This was her favorite part of the holidays, making deserts, but especially making Gingerbread cookies. She still couldn’t drive a vehicle herself and had to rely on others taking her out or getting stuff for her, but seeing as everyone was so busy this time of year, she hadn’t been able to go and get all the baking supplies she needed this year. It had her feeling mildly depressed, so when Connie finally asked what she needed that morning, she teared up.

“Okay, okay! Wash your hands and we’ll get started.” He lamented.

She nodded, turning to the sink, before she stopped to tie her hair up into a high pony tale. Connie took this time to wash his hands, and when she began to wash hers, he noticed how much the sweater she wore hung off her shoulders.

“Soooooo, what happened to the sweater?” He asked.

She snorted and started drying her hands.

“I stretched it out a bit too much to make it comfy.” She began, a big grin on her face, ”And then I washed it and the hole was even bigger, so now I gotta go out and buy Bert a new one altogether.”

A lot of them decided to dig into Bertholdt’s sweater collection and steal whatever fit, which, everything fit everyone and then some. Bert didn’t pay any mind, he thought it was cute and happily allowed the sweaters to be borrowed. Key word is: Borrow. So Sasha very much did need to buy the guy a new sweater, but she knew Bert wouldn’t really care much, he’d appreciate her going out of her way to get him a new one.

“So where do we start?” Connie spoke. He’d never made Gingerbread himself, only bought the pre-made stuff at the store to decorate. Sasha looked up at him, a gleam in her eyes and a giant smile on her lips.

She began taking him through the steps: dry mix, wet ingredients, mixing, rolling, all with excitement. At his question as to why she had a sad look about her at points, she told him it was something she and her Grandma would do every Holiday season. She loved it so much and it was always her favorite thing, spending time with her Grandma. She didn’t say much after that and Connie viewed her with understanding. He wouldn’t push what didn’t need to be pushed.

“Well, if you want, we can make this a yearly thing between us.” He started, causing Sasha to stop and look up at him. He folded the dough again and pressed down. “You can teach me, just like your Grandmother taught you, and we can make these every single year!” He finished, grinning and looking to her. She gave a sweet smile back to him and nodded.

“I’d love that, Connie.”

After cutting out all the cookies into people and filling the trays, Sasha popped them into the pre-heated oven where it would take a time before they were done. The two washed their hands again.

“It feels so oo-y goo-y, but it’s kinda cool after a while.” He spoke, a bit grossed out at how the remnants of dough fell from his fingers in little gloops while under the water. It was kinda nasty, but it reminded him of silly puddy and just being a little kid in general.

“You’ll get used to it. Over time, you start to love it and can’t wait for it.” Sasha spoke, obviously remembering over time how she felt about folding the dough.

“Thick doughs feel a lot different from thin ones and wet ones, those are sticky and get EVERYWHERE.” She laughed.

“Yeesh, maybe we can work our way up to that then.” He said in response, wincing a bit.

“Yes, of course!” She agreed.

They started cleaning up after turning some music on to get them into the mood. Cleaning was never the fun part, but it had to be done. They moved around each other seamlessly, almost dancing. When they’d bump into each other they would laugh and giggle quick apologies, before going back into the rhythm. It didn’t take to long to scrub the islands counter and throw away the tiny pieces that didn’t make it and were too small to do anything with, even together. They hand washed the bowls and measuring cups and spoons and utensils, and through idle chatter they found the cookies to be done.

Sasha took them out wearing her oven mitts and put the trays onto the stove top to cool off.

“Kay, so now we get the frosting and stuff ready to decorate!” She began, gathering up the various coloured frostings from the counter to place onto the island.

“Should we use some paper towel or something so we don’t have to clean much again?” Connie interjected.

The strawberry brunette shook her head, yes, and grabbed something from one of the pull-out drawers.

“Parchment paper.” She spoke. “It’ll keep everything clean as we decorate. When we finish a cookie we can just put it back onto the trays for now, since the icing would then need time to set.”

She ripped some of the paper off of the roll and placed it onto the island with the icing.

“Perfect!” Connie exclaimed. “Also, I’ll be back, potty break.” He quickly said before he left the kitchen.

He returned to Sasha touching the cookies lightly. She looked back at him and stated they were cool enough to decorate now. He helped her bring the trays into the island where they could reach things better and the two began their decorating.

Sasha decided to make her cookies look like their housemates. She asked Connie ahead of time to make sure he got black icing to which he had asked if it even existed. After looking to her cookies now and then, he realized why and thought it was cute.

Connie went a different way. He wasn’t so good at piping, nor was he going to bother with filling, so, he just drew squiggles and swirls. He made a face on each one, at least, but the most important thing was having a steady hand with the letters. On the chest of everyone one of his Gingerbread people was a letter. Even if Sasha looked over, she may think that Connie just didn’t know what to fill the space with, so he’d just put a letter there, but she was fully engrossed in what he was doing to pay much attention to him.

When the two had finished they looked over their tiny Gingerbread friends.

“Wow, Sash, thats super cool!” Connie expressed with joy as he looked over the cookies Sasha had worked hard on. “Also, where are the giant muscles on Gingerbread Me?” He joked, earning him a laugh and a tiny shove, which he snickered at.

“No, but, honestly...These are amazing, they’ll love ‘em.” He complimented.

“Thanks, I’m sure everyone’ll have a fun time eating themselves.” She grinned. “So, let me see what you’ve got.” She peered up at him expectantly.

It took him a few seconds of just nervously gazing at her, to move his body away from what he had been covering up.

The Gingerbread people had been placed in a way where the letters on their chests could spell something. It took Sasha a moment of genuinely loving what Connie had done with all the Gingerbread people to spell out what was written.

“...U...Wanna Date...?” She said out loud. It then clicked in. She turned her head to Connie who had the biggest blush she’d ever seen on him, and that alone lit her own face up. She looked back to the cookies, reading it in her head again and then back to Connie who looked a bit more worried than before.

She snorted and then began to laugh whole-heartedly, a sweet look on her face. Connie was a bit taken aback, but when Sasha turned to face him and wrapped her arms around his neck, and then leaned in to kiss him, he knew it was okay. They both smiled into the kiss and they both broke it to laugh. Sasha held him close, to which he responded by wrapping his arms around her waist.

“So what does that mean?” He questioned was a love struck look. She looked up at him, giving him a quick peck on the lips.

“It means, as long as we eat those now, so no one else thinks you’re asking them out, I’ll date you.” She answered.

It was Connies turn to burst out laughing now. He loved her, so very much.

“It’s a deal!”

[jstohl81]

CFF Beat Series - Part 3 (2008)

With a firm primitive handshake, we introduced one another and immediately flocked to the pinball game, Monster Bash. John Wray, also known as Tilt is one of the Founding Fathers of the Crazy Flipper Fingers pinball gang in Portland. “So, what do you want to know?” asked John while he placed four quarters in the machine and began his game. Wray plays like a henchman casually focused on his game while ranting about pinball.

He has a dense frayed beard, thick rimmed glasses, a shaved head and an array of tattoos among his arms. As he talks, his raspy voice increases in tone while he lets out roars of laughter At 36 years old, Wray has been tilting pinball games since an early age starting out in Fort Wayne, Indiana. He is outspoken and seems to find thrills in telling stories. Before I could start note taking, John was spewing stories out like a coin machine does quarters.

He explains the essence of pinball, the satisfaction that occurs and why CFF is the best. He delves into tournaments he has competed in, saying that he won so many, “One time I paid my rent off.” His eagerness shows on his face as he plunges the silver ball down the board.

There are no other games at the Vern, just six pinball machines. He lashes out in hostility about video games for a second, how they tend to replace pinball games due to their financial success and then shows his allegiance to pinball by proudly announcing how he strictly adheres to pinball only with a tone of gusto. “Fuck video games, I only play pinball!” Wray says. He has a huge bitterness toward video games, specifically the golf and hunting games featured in numerous bars around Portland.

A week ago, the CFF had their bi-weekly meeting at the Goodfoot where I would find myself amidst a sea of black tees with CFF logos, wild chants, and an all out pinball competition among members. On the tables were a variety of beer bottles, glasses and a massive mountain of quarters. John told me that members and prospects are required to bring 10 dollars worth of quarters to the meeting, adding up to an overwhelming amount of $200-plus from the entire gang. The sight was epic and seemed to be guarded by one female member, Slammer, who mocked me as I grabbed a few coins. “What do you think you‘re doing?” she asked. “They told me it was cool,” I said.

John made sure I was introduced to each member, and slowly but surely, I met an assortment of pinball zealots with cheers galore. By the end of the night, the mountain of coins had been reduced to a pathetic amount of pocket change. Every 30 minutes or so, John would abruptly erupt in a loud banter yelling, “CFF . . .” then the entire gang would join in unity and ferociously call back, “Til’ death.” 

It was like being at a ball game where chants are thrown around endlessly. Members certainly hold Wray in high regard and admiration, in fact they look to him for advice on CFF issues and future undertakings. However, he doesn’t claim to be a leader of any sort. “I’m not the president or the leader of CFF, just another member,” he says with sincerity.

Members brought me into the gaming frenzy with heavy arms and comraderie. John was gazing about his gang with a grin and a glass of beer in his hand. “You’ve never seen me drunk have you?” John said with a smirk and hint of satisfaction. He looked content among his crew and gallivanted around to each member to tell stories or to lend enthusiasm.

One significant component of a CFF meeting is that their location have at least four pinball games. John told me how some bar owners would ask him what it takes for CFF to host a meeting at their spot. He simply replied, four machines will do. The Ship Ahoy did just that, and within a few weeks, they got four machines, and CFF started meeting there on a regular basis. Wray has clout in Portland. When CFF holds a meeting, they provide a lucrative business for the bar and pinball owners, while the gang unleashes a flurry of pinball passion. Any bar that doesn’t have four games, and the CFF won’t have their meeting their.

...A charismatic pinball aficionado.. 

Not only does he cook for the Vern, he bartends at Billy Rays over the weekend where he is the commander-in-chief amidst punks, metal heads, and locals. John is quite the avid fan of metal, thrash, and buttrock. He has the bar television tuned to the exclusive show, Metal Mania that only plays 70s and 80s metal, from Kiss and Slaughter, to Judas Priest and Dokken. Customers are smoking like a chimney, some are shooting dice, while others pound pints of PBR, all the while Wray keeps cool joking around and singing along. That it until a customer orders food.

“Motherfuckers and your fucking food,” he yells at a customer. Wray portrays a deep animosity toward having to fix food. It’s as if a pinball game goes dead during mid-play. He turns in spite and begins fixing a platter of nachos while mumbling obscenities and turning to me with a wild look of earnestness in his eyes.

While Wray prepares order after order of hotdogs and nachos, I go upstairs to play a round of pinball. Turns out, the machine Monster Mash shuts down during ball one without even allowing me to sigh. I go downstairs to alert John of the concern, and on the drop of a dime he grabs the phone at midnight, dials a pinball machine operator, and leaves a message explaining what happened on a machine. Wray seems content about the phone call and explains how him and CFF call operators all the time to report down machines. He expects it will get looked at in the next day or so.

Within a few minutes, the toaster oven begins to ringing and John hurries over to handle the hot buffet of melted cheese, jalapenos and a mound of chips with other necessary condiments. All the while his patience is growing thin due to some depressing emo band that has been blaring from the jukebox for the past hour, putting a major damper on the mood of John. It felt like the dead of winter with suicide rants on the forefront of the bar. He leans in close to me and says with a smile, “What’s the difference between an emo kid and a pizza? A pizza won’t cut itself.”

Wray is a joker, a keen story teller who can deliver jokes by the minute if necessary, or carry on fascinating stories that involve all sorts of absurd themes. He begins one dramatic story with enthusiasm that took place in his hometown, entitled “the night I was fucked.” Wray bluntly explains how he had just gotten pulled over late one evening.

“I had in my possession, a fuckin’ half-ounce of pot I had just got. I was shitface drunk. I had a 10-strip of LSD in the fuckin’ daily planner thing, in my book bag with every, every sketch book that I had with all graffiti shit. With every illegal piece I ever painted was documented in there somewhere. I had between 30 and 40 cans of spray paint in my fuckin’ van. My sketchbook had Fort Wayne Police stickers on them. I worked at a screen printing place that printed those stickers . . . I’m fucked, I’m like oh my God! I had a pipe, I had fuckin’ papers on me in my jacket, oh and I had another 10-strip in tinfoil in the pocket of my jacket, I’m fucked! Oh my god I’m fucked, I’m fucked, I’m so fucked . . . (the cop) finds the half-ounce of brick weed in my pocket, hauls over his partner . . . And then he finds the pipe. He dumps it out of the bag and is like, ‘grind that up real good’, smashes the pipe . . . He’s like, ‘you know why we pulled you over?’ no idea, ‘shots were fired in the area and you like a suspicious vehicle.’”

The tale continues even further escalating with Wray in the back of a cop car weaseling the tinfoil 10-strip from his pocket to stash it in his shoe while the cops searched his suspicious van. He was certain he was going to jail when the cops started reading Wray his rights. Turns out they had wrongly identified Wray as a faux pizza delivery robber so the K-9 unit was called out. The K-9 unit cop happened to know Wray, vouched for him as a real pizza delivery man and they let Wray go just like that. 

He told another story about how his pinball craze developed at Bakers donut shop in Fort Wayne Indiana. It was here that John and his friends would buy 45 cent coffee with free refills and stock up on prized donuts while slinging quarters and pushing flippers. “They knew how to make my favorite donut,” said Wray with admiration.

Wray is more than the co-founder of CFF, he’s an avid pinball player who admires his members like they’re family and appreciates the time they spend together. He joins them in solidarity throwing chants out into the air like an umpire. “CFF . . . Til’ death!” Lined against the wall are a sea of CFF members shaking machines, sharing laughs and drinking beer. Each machine is flanked with black-clad pinball zealots bearing the CFF logo designed by Wray. He steps back up to No Fear with a grizzly bear stance while a cigarette smoke trickles up his face. This is his love, pinball, CFF and camaraderie.

[mcmansionhell]

50 States of McMansion Hell: Norfolk County, Massachusetts

Hello Friends! As you know, it is a busy day in politics: The British Election (everyone who follows me on Twitter knows my views), and the whole Comey bit back home.

For those of you who are extremely stressed (understandable), here is a little reprieve: a lovely New England Victorian Home.

Just kidding. You know that movie “Shutter Island”? Well, this is Shudder Hell. 

This lovely 1996 home features 4 bedrooms and 4.5 baths, totaling a reasonable 6,300 square feet. It can be all yours for just around $830,000 USD!

Lawyer 80s Hilton Garden Inn Foyer

That’s right folks, it’s a vintage house. For the purpose of this blog, it has aged wonderfully like a fine wine. 

Extremely Good Room

I’m sorry, I can’t get over the Live Love Laugh wallpaper border. I just can’t. Such gifts from above only come every once and a while and we must savor them immensely.  

Dining Room

I get a kick out of the things people hang in their houses because of Fixer Upper. I wouldn’t be surprised to see a lid from an aluminum garbage can framed by a magnolia wreath on Pinterest somewhere.

Also, aren’t starburst mirrors passé now? 

Kitchen

Is it just me or does this kitchen seem inconvenient in general? The dishwasher is far from the sink, the stove is far from the oven and the refrigerator - I don’t know about y’all but I’m a pretty bad klutz so this is maximizing the possibility of kitchen disaster.

Master Bedroom

Addendum:

Master Bathroom

Here’s the thing about these huge excessive tubs: an outdoor hot tub usually only has to be filled or emptied every once and a while, and is specifically engineered to be hot and steamy. An excessive sunken garden tub is engineered to do none of those things and also has to be filled and refilled constantly - a strain on any home’s hot water heater. 

Bedroom 2

There was room for a James Comey joke in the “Bureau” bit but i just decided to go with the English lit references instead. 

Bathroom 2

Pretty sure I’ve seen such terraced formations in the actual Zelda games. 

Also those are excessively sheer curtains for windows facing the street, but it’s none of my business. 

Bedroom 3

I know nothing about sports but I was in Boston for the Superbowl, though I was there to go to see the Boston Symphony because, unlike the New England Patriots, I am a loser. 

Furthermore, why is the girls room directly connected to the boy’s room without a “Jack & Jill” bathroom in between? It’s just a little strange, is all. 

Bedroom 4

What is even the point of those overpriced stuffed animals? What else can you do except look at it, sit on it for a while before getting bored, or intermittently ask it woeful questions like “Why do mommy and daddy yell at each other so much?” 

(I’d like to personally take a moment to thank Lemony Snicket for giving me this sense of humor.)

Oh no! We’re out of house! (shockingly no rec room on this bad boy) All that’s left is: 

A Very Bad Photo of the Rear Exterior

All that house and y’all couldn’t spare a decent patio. Tsk Tsk. 

Well, that does it for Massachusetts! Join us on Monday, where I go into that time in architecture when mainland Europeans anthropomorphized architecture (”Disney Princesses, but they’re all different types of columns”) and Thursday for a Michigan McMansion!

Have a good weekend! 

If you like this post, and want to see more like it, consider supporting me on Patreon!  Also JUST A HEADS UP - I’ve started posting a GOOD HOUSE built since 1980 from the area where I picked this week’s McMansion as Wednesday bonus content on Patreon! 

Not into small donations and sick bonus content? Check out the McMansion Hell Store- 100% goes to charity.

Copyright Disclaimer: All photographs in this post are from real estate aggregate Zillow.com and are used in this post for the purposes of education, satire, and parody, consistent with 17 USC §107. Manipulated photos are considered derivative work and are Copyright © 2017 McMansion Hell. Please email kate@mcmansionhell.com before using these images on another site. (am v chill about this)

[winches-ter]

Dagger (part 2)

AU: Mafia

POV: Reader

Rating: PG-13 (For the violence and occasional language)

Pairings: A wee bit of Reader X Seungri, and that subtle GDYB.

Summary: As the sister of the leader of the most dangerous gang in Seoul, you’ve done a pretty amazing job at maintaining a low profile, and not letting anyone know what family you belong to. Your life is normal, despite your brother’s intimidating, yet respected, image. But what the people don’t know, is that you’re Big Bang’s secret weapon, their Trump Card.

Part 1 | Part 2 |  Part 3 | Part 4(end)

“It was about you. He thinks this is too dangerous for you. He asked me to tell you to quit.”

Someone hit me with a bag full of bricks.

No, I thought, that would hurt less.

If I had been told Jiyong and Youngbae were about to get married, adopt three children and name them after different types of pasta, that would be more believable. “I have been with you people since before I could even say my own name. It’s where I belong, oppa. I don’t do anything else. I don’t want to do anything else.” I said, coming to a standstill.

“You need to understand, y/n, none of us wanted this life thrust upon you. All we want to do is keep you safe. And what we do, it is as far from safe as is possible to be. If anything were to happen to you, do you think I would be able to live with myself, knowing that it was all because of me? That it was my fault I could not protect my own baby sister? Even after I was warned so many times, even when I almost saw you die today?”

I could understand. I did understand. But he had to understand I had a choice too. For eighteen years this man had worked tooth and nail, not being able to afford three square meals for himself, but making sure I never went to bed hungry. I was his responsibility. And now that I could, I wanted to repay him. Even if it was with my life. I wanted to watch his back, make sure he returned home every night, and bury anyone who dared to ruin what he created with his blood and sweat.

“Do I not get a say in my own life then? I need to make decisions on my own now. I’m not your six year old in pigtails anymore. Why can’t you see that?” I really did not mean to yell, or sound ungrateful, but that, somehow, was how things turned out.

“I suppose I should. I’m sorry for trying to do the right thing. I’m sorry for trying to protect you.” The pain in his eyes killed me over and over again. He just walked on, without a word, crestfallen.

I wanted to go after him, but something held me back. It took some time to register it was not my feelings, but was indeed a person, holding my arm.

“What the hell? Let go of me.”

The person, who was being referred to as ‘perv’ inside my head, showed no intentions of doing that.

“Right. Now. While I’m still asking nicely.”

“Well I’ll treat you right, love.” He sounded positively drunk. His breath only confirmed the same. “Don’t bother running after that coward of a man anymore, who doesn’t even know what he’s leaving behind. I know what girls like you want. And I’ll make sure you get what you des-” He was cut off by a punch landing square on his nose, causing blood to drip down.

Pulling me behind him, Jiyong growled, “If you so much as breathe within a thousand miles of my sister again, I will slice you into so many pieces, they will have a lot of trouble burying your useless ass.”

“Think you’re so tough, huh?” The guy said, wiping the last of blood from his face, visibly offended. “Hey guys, I think we need to teach this stiff douchebag and his little bitch here some really solid lessons.”

“I’m going to do you a favour and tell you to back the fuck off before you and your peasants have to be scraped off the floor in the aftermath.”

“You son of a bitch-” He cursed and tried to punch Jiyong, who stealthily dodged it, caught a hold of the guy’s hand, stretched it out, so they looked more like a couple doing salsa than two extremely angsty dudes fighting for dominance, and used his elbow to hit the back of the perv’s head repeatedly.

Meanwhile two men, presumably the ‘guys’ ganged up on me, as I backed away from Jiyong. “Well this is hardly fair gentlemen.” I said, sarcastically. “An exhausted girl who is not in the mood for your bullshit, versus two scrawny rodents hell-bent upon making her loose her temper. The odds seem a bit off to me.”

“Shut up, bitch. You’re only making it more difficult for you.” One of them said as both the men lunged at me at the same time.

Ducking out from their reach, I grabbed both their wrists in the process, and exactly as Daesung had taught, turned suddenly, jerking their arms, then folded them against their backs, inviting gasps of pains from both.

“I told you, I’m not in the mood for your bullshit” I say as I kick the first one from behind, then the next making them fall on their knees. Before they had the time to comprehend what their free hands were going to do, I elbowed one of them from the back, with enough force to knock him unconscious, strong enough to send jitters up my arm, and then kicked the other one to the floor and again knocked the living daylights out of him; with the heel of my foot, gently caressing his face.

When I turned around Jiyong was already done with the guy who was bundled up on the ground still mumbling curses at both of us. He still looked extremely hurt from our argument earlier, and something in me broke.

“I’m sorry.” I blurted out, as tears began to well up in my eyes. “All you’ve ever done is risk your own life to keep me safe, and I am so, so grateful for that. I wanted to be with you guys, not for adrenaline kicks to fulfill my wild teenage fantasies of punching assholes into the sunset, but so I could maybe try to do the same for you, as you have done for me. Watch your back, make sure you don’t die doing something stupid like taunting people with grenade launchers aimed at you, maybe also make sure you came back every day. Take care of you, in the only way that I know.”

Jiyong simply walked up to me and wrapped his arms around my whimpering body. In an instant I did the same, as if clinging onto him for dear life. As my head rested on his shoulder, his hands gently played with my hair. There was a comfortable silence, interrupted only when we heard one of the guys that I had knocked down slowly come to his senses. We ran then. Not because we couldn’t take them in a fight again, hell, we would still emerge victorious if they called in multiple reinforcements. But, because none of us wanted to ruin the effects of the moment that had just passed.

As we came to a stop in front of our house, out of breath and pumped on adrenaline, one of the guards opened the door before we even reached in and both of us bowed to thank him. I was about to make my way up the stairs when Jiyong half whispered half yelled, “Y/n, I’m so sorry.” Puzzled, I turned around to see him; he looked like he had committed the most heinous crime in the history of heinous crimes, and was severely regretting it. “What’s wrong? Why do you look like that?”

“I shouldn’t have left you alone like that. That filthy guy and his minions could’ve done anything to you, and again, it would have been my fault. I’m so so sorry, y/n, I promise, I’ll never leave you alone like that again. Never.”

It was my turn to initiate The Hug, and so I did.

“It was mostly my fault, you know. I should have caught up to you. If not that, then at least I should have been the one to punch his nose off his face. I should’ve done something, but I dint. Let’s call it even.”

“You know,” He said, tightening his hold on me, “When I say ‘never’ I also mean the times when I’m out kicking ass. I’m not letting you out of my sight again.”

“So, I’m not being shoved out of your super cool ninja clan then, G Dragon-sama?”

He just laughed and breathed a light no somewhere in between. “Now go to bed, Naruto, you have school tomorrow.”

“Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

The next day Jiyong and Youngbae had a very heated discussion about me and what’s best for me and eventually, both of them decided it was best indeed, that I do stay with them, lest I shall be harmed in their prolonged periods of absence.

While they were in there, discussing my future, I was in the kitchen, making a very healthy double cheese chicken lasagna for my hungry self. As I was too busy drooling over the cheese that was bubbling in the oven, my surroundings became void and all that mattered anymore was the wall of time that stood between the food and my esophagus.

Out of nowhere, two fingers pressed down on either side of my waist, making me jump up in surprise. What was more embarrassing was the inhuman sound I made in the said process. Taking the first thing I found on the shelf I turned towards the attacker in a poise of self-defence.

“Whoa, y/n, you’re going to decapitate someone with that lethal spatula, girl.”

“Seungri? Dude, I would actually have decapitated you. Don’t sneak up on me like that. I have killer reflexes, you know.” I smirk.

“I’d love to put that to test someday. Let’s see, next weekend? My place?”

“Did you think that was smooth, Lee Seunghyun?”

“Is that a no?”

“Do you like lasagna?”

“What?”

“Yes. It’s a yes. Now, would you like to have lasagna? It’s almost done.” Talking about relationship stuff made me uncomfortable, and so, in the worst, most weird way that I could, I changed the topic.

“Some other time, princess. I need to go meet your brother first.”

“Cool. More for me then.” Princess? What?

“Watch the calories though.”

“Watch the calories though.” I mimic in a mocking tone as he smirks and walks away.

What a beautiful pain in the ass.

By the time the guys were done, it was evening already, and I did not realize that I had fallen asleep on the kitchen counter. Only managing to eat half the lasagna before my screwed up sleep schedule demanded to be acknowledged.

I woke up to the sound of Jiyong munching down the lasagna, sitting across from me on the counter.

“So Seungri asked you out?” He said, when he realized I had woken up.

“What? How do you know?”

“He called me this morning to ‘confess’ his weird feelings for you. He dint want to do it behind my back.”

“And you agreed?” I ask, visibly taken aback.

“Well, might as well. He knows what’s going to happen if he fucks it up.”

I snorted, and took a bite out of the lasagna as well.

“How did you make this?” He asked, making a disgusted face, “It tastes like damp socks.”

“It definitely does not. It’s better than what that good for nothing girlfriend of yours used to make.”

“Oh but she was good for something...” He says looking up at the ceiling, as if he was nostalgic. A smug smile on his face.

“You’re disgusting Kwon Jiyong.” I say, hitting his shoulder lightly. “Also, let me sleep. Go away.  Shoo. Do whatever deep dark stuff you do locked away in your deep dark room.”

“No, y/n, listen to me. This is important. It’s about that gang that’s after us.” He said, in a serious tone, which indicated we were down to business. “They’re called ‘death stroke’. Almost ten years ago, they were our biggest rivals, when dad’s company was about to go bankrupt and I had just ascended in his place. But, we beat him. After which they went underground. Now, I believe it was because they could not bear being defeated by a sexy eighteen year old, but according to Seunghyun hyung they were just ‘laying low’. Now that they believe it is us who screwed them over, their leader is blinded by revenge to extract vengeance from my majestic self. Even if we tell him it wasn’t us, he won’t believe it because, despite what TOP hyung says, he hates my guts. Now we’ve got to be careful, because who knows how many upgrades he has gone through over the years.”

“Upgrades? Oppa, this isn’t a video game villain.”

“Sister, he is called Midnight.”

“Ok first of all, I want that title. Second, why was this guy such a big rival of dad’s company?”

“Because apparently he had some beef with dad. He’s the reason the company fell in the first place.”

“Then let’s kill this bitch.”

Over the years, I always wanted to know why such a big company had reached such a low within almost no time. Who was the catalyst that favoured this downfall? I never asked my brother, because I was afraid he’d blame himself for it. But now that the son of a bitch had a face, and not to mention a cool ‘stage name’ that I required, I wanted nothing more than to paint his walls in deep, permanent red.

Over the course of the next few days, the guys all did their digging on this ‘Midnight’ and his ‘death stroke’, while I doodled in the back of my notebooks because whatever the teachers were saying in classes, was either never going to help me, or was just plain boring. As it is I was able to maintain good grades and an average image in class, so I could afford to doodle. I had earned the right to doodle. And so, I shamelessly doodled.

Fridays were the worst. Teachers gave extra homework, we had PE as the last period, and the instructor loathed my mere existence. Also, you never knew when the principle would come over and hand you more things to do, because of which, more often than not, we had to stay back after school hours.

This time, we were supposed to make paper cut outs for the first graders’ classrooms because they had a ‘Bring your mother to school’ day. I always hated these days, and anything to do with them.

“Never have I ever seen someone cut up golden stars with that much hatred in their eyes. You ok y/n?” My best friend asked me.

“Yeah well, when you have been personally victimized by your PE Instructor and then have a ‘decorate-a-classroom-for-mothers’ shoved in your face like a big ‘fuck you, you motherless git’, it sort of sucks the fun out of your peachy day.”

“Whoa slow down there sunshine. Here, have some chocolate.” She said, handing me a Hershey’s Kiss.

“Never leave me girl. What would I do without you?”

“Curl up in the fetal position and sob endlessly.” She said indifferently, as she pulled out a chocolate for her own self and ate it.

We finished the work sooner than I expected.

“A hundred starts and a double hundred chocolates later, the salty bitches finally emerge victorious!” I say, stretching my arms and got up.

“Speak for yourself, Cinderella. I happen to be a sweeter bitch.”

Both of us made out way out. Glad, the headache assigned to us was over. There were people in the class who looked at us with envy, and that made leaving even more satisfying.

We were out the school’s gate when it suddenly struck me, “Oh! I almost forgot, Seungri asked me out.”

“WHAT!! And I’m hearing about this NOW?! I feel betrayed. Did you find someone else to tell this to? *gasp* Are you CHEATING ON ME?”

“Calm down, you’re going to go into cardiac arrest. Who else would accept this eternal void of darkness except for you? I’ll tell you about it later, I want to go home right now, and sleep in a tub and hopefully drown in there for a couple of days.”

“Gimme a call when you come back from the dead, or if you die for good, ask Jiyong oppa to do it. We’ll support each other through the tough time. Then get married and name our firstborn after you.”

“Gross. Officially too gross. Oh the mental image. That’s it I’ve been scarred for life. I’m going to leave and pretend this never happened.” With that I turned, and walked away, already dreaming about essential oils soaking away all the torture I valiantly withstood today. And honestly, my body ached from head to toe, fingers about to spasm because of constant use of scissors, legs screaming out in protest, my eyes watering from the dire need for sleep. I was literally a wreck.

The sky was a dull yellow grey, clouds gradually blanketing all the blue and the setting sun not making any attempts to put up a fight either. There was a cool wind sweeping the streets, and weather like this meant a storm was on its way. A gentle breeze hit me, making me uneasy to the core. Ever since I was a little girl, I had noticed, on days like this, something always went wrong. And somewhere inside, that little girl wanted nothing more than to go cuddle up inside Jiyong’s blankets, because she was scared to be left alone.

Without second thoughts, I broke into a run as soon as I saw my house up ahead. I desperately wanted to get away from the rumbling clouds, slowly setting the stage for something more terrible to take over.

As soon I made it through the door, I took out my phone and called my brother.

“Hello?”

“Oppa?” I gasped, too tired to hide the nervousness in my voice, still breathless from the unnecessary running.

“Oppa where-” I was cut off as a large hand blocked my mouth. I wanted to retaliate, to protest, but my body refused to respond. Someone hit me on the back of my head, and I fell, barely conscious. I could feel hot blood drip down my head, as I made out a figure bending down to pick up my phone.

“G-Dragon, It’s been a while. I hope you haven’t forgotten me? Not that it matters right now. You see, I have something you want, and you have something I want. What do you say we discuss it over tea sometime? If not, then forget about seeing this little cheesecake again. I can’t say would mind that. I can imagine a few things I could do with her. When you make up your mind, call me on this number.”

If Jiyong argued, threatened or even yelled at the man, I couldn’t make out. I knew I had to do something to save myself, and I had to do it fast.

I tried to get up from the floor, but my arms betrayed me. And I fell with a thud that bounced off the walls and drew all the attention towards me.

“Knock that bitch out for the love of God. And put her in the car.”

The last thing I heard was Jiyong’s muffled cry, seethed with pain and anger, then it all went dark.

[mercyimagines-blog]

I Hate You

Requested by anonymous: heyy can you do one where y/n a new exchange student on shawn's street and they don't like each other at first then something happens and they start dating? 

-   

Week 1

You and your family had recently moved to Pickering for your dad's job. Of course, you were bitter as you had to leave behind all of your friends in a different country and honestly, the relationship between your dad and you was extremely rocky.

There was nothing you could've done to stop the move anyway, so your parents told you to stop acting like a brat and accept it. You were currently setting up your desk, pictures of your friends scattered on a cork board right above it.

Just the mere thought about having to start over in a new country, at a new school, and make new friends made your heart speed up and your stomach sink.

"Y/N, mom and dad need you to take me to the hockey try outs!" Your younger brother Ethan yelled behind your closed door.

You rolled your eyes, running your fingers against your scalp. You were definitely not in the mood to take anyone anywhere. Plus, how were you supposed to get there? You've only been in Pickering for three days, you had no idea where anything was.

"Please, Y/N!" Ethan screamed louder, making you let out an annoyed sound. You swung your door open aggressively and walked right past Ethan, down the stairs and into the kitchen where your parents were seated at the table.

"Why can't you take Ethan?" You ask, crossing your arms over your chest. Your dad looked at your mom, her licking her lips before speaking.

"Because we think it'd be good for you to go out and explore." You bite the inside of your cheek.

"Honey, we know you're upset, but this is how it is now, and you're going to have to accept that." Your father said, strictly and in a way that made your spine tingle.

Sniffling slightly, you answer quietly. "Fine, we're leaving."

It was hard getting to the park where the tryouts were being held, even with your GPS; it was absolutely ridiculous how hard it was to figure out. Not to mention, Ethan kept commenting on your driving, telling you to slow down or turn left or "Y/N, you can't stop to look at the street signs in the middle of a busy road!" Yeah, that was definitely not helping.

The park was ten minutes away and it took you both thirty minutes to get there.

Ethan opens the passenger door and shoots you a look, "thanks, now I'm late."

He slams the door after he steps out and opens the back door, retrieving his hockey gear. You let out a sigh and drive away, going to find somewhere to park along the sidewalk.

Parking was just as hard to find as the park was. Every single spot was taken while people jumped out in front of your car, not watching where they were going and you had the raging urge to yell at them through the window.

You didn't, though.

Surely enough, you find a spot a little ways away and hop out quickly, trying to head back to where the bleachers were at the park. You crossed the street, stuffing your hands in your bubble jacket, trying to keep yourself warm. That wasn't the best idea when some idiot didn't see you walking and had to step on his brakes faster than you had ever seen.

Unfortunately, he did barely tap you, yet that sent you flying to the ground as you struggled to get your hand out of your pocket before you hit face first. You turned your head as to not hit the front, but you slightly knocked the side against the pavement causing your brain to rattle.

You were in your feet as soon as you were down though, slamming your fist on the hood of the Jeep.

"Watch where you're going, asshole!" You scream, walking away.

God, the nerve on some people.

A shiver ran down your body as you sat down on the icy metal bleacher, watching your brother on the ice. Your brother was pretty good at hockey and it was his favorite pastime. You had also been good at hockey, at some point in your life, however you decided that wasn't what you wanted to do forever. You came to that conclusion after you tore a ligament in your knee after being tackled by two players at once.

You blink the memory from your eyes and look at the side, noticing a brunette girl making her way onto the ice. It seems as if she's been on the team before as she wore a jersey with the team name and her last name - you assumed, Mendes.

Your knee bounced up and down, watching them begin as someone sat right beside you.

"Hi, um, I'm really sorry about hitting you with my car."

Your blood boils and you snap your head to look at the boy. He was extremely attractive, you had to give him that. His pale skin contrasted perfectly against his brown eyes and hair, the jawline jutting out from his face.

Shaking your head, "you should've been more careful. You know, you could've killed me."

"Oh come on, it was a small tap." You roll your eyes, crossing your arms and setting your sights back on Ethan.

Surprisingly, the boy didn't say anything else, sensing you really disliked him.

As tryouts ended, Ethan came off the ice and made his way towards you.

"Y/N, did you see the goal I made?" Ethan asks, proud.

"I did, nice job buddy!" You raise your hand, giving him a high-five.

Then, the brunette girl you saw earlier walks over towards you as well, carrying her skates in her hand. 

“Oh, yeah and I made a friend. Her name is Aaliyah.” He points to the girl next to him who was handing her skates to the boy who almost ran you over.

“Uh, yeah, this is my sister, Aaliyah.” The boy says and suck in a breath, annoyed for some reason.

“Ethan, we have to get home, mom and dad are expecting us.” You tell him, standing and touching your pockets for your phone.

“Oh, okay. Bye Aaliyah! I’ll see you at the next practice.” Ethan waves and she waves back, smiling.

“See you then, Eth!”

“Did you think I really did well?” Ethan asks you, getting into the front seat of your car.

Your eyes caught the attention of the boy who almost hit you and his sister Aaliyah, crossing the street distracting you from what your brother said.

Somehow, the boy could sense your eyes on him and he smiled, waving at you with his car keys jingling against the palm of his hand.

“I’m Shawn, by the way!”

“I don’t care, by the way!” You yell back, rolling your eyes at his audacity and driving away, leaving him in the dust.

On the way home, Ethan noticed a sports gear store and begged you to take him inside - saying he needed new pads if he was going to be on the team.

You made the point to tell him that he may not make the team, yet he was extremely persistent.

It was a little under forty-five minutes later when you two arrived home, the warm feeling the heater in your car gave you immediately wearing off as you ran into the house, trying to avoid the cold.

You ran so fast - you hardly noticed the unfamiliar car in the driveway.

The house smelled of your mother’s cheesy lasagna, making your stomach rumble.

You entered the kitchen, practically hunching over as the smell became jaw-dropping.

“You haven’t made lasagna since -” Your stopped in your tracks, noticing there were four other bodies besides your parents in the kitchen.

Two of them happened to be the same damn kids that you met earlier.

“Good, you’re home! Where did you two go off to?” You mom asked you, sipping her wine.

You, still surprised, could barely answer right away.

“Um,” You begin, and Shawn smirked at you. “We went to the sports store, Ethan wanted new pads.”

Your mother nodded, taking the lasagna out of the oven and setting it on the counter.

“Y/N, this is Karen and Manny Mendes. They live down the street and were kind enough to bring us some cookies to welcome us to the neighborhood this morning so I invited them to dinner. And, these are their children Aaliyah and Shawn.”

You smiled lightly, “nice to meet you all.”

“Where’s your brother?” Your dad asks, making you shoot your eyes to him.

“Hm? Oh, um, I don’t know but I’ll go grab him.”

“No, I need you to set the table - I’ll grab him. Excuse me.” Your mother says, handing you the silverware as you stand there awkwardly.

This was going to be interesting.

Week 2

Since learning Shawn lived down the street from you, he had made quite a few surprise appearances to your house, saying Aaliyah wanted to hang out with Ethan and some not so surprise appearances to hockey practice.

Some would say you were crazy to be so annoyed by such a hot boy, but you definitely had your reasons.

It turns out, Shawn and you go to the same school and have most of the same classes together, making you even angrier. You had managed to run into him multiple times, knocking his books and papers from his hands on multiple occasions, making him frustrated with you as well.

The bell rings and you slam your notebook shut, almost ripping it in half at the intense way you pushed it into your backpack.

“Y/N!”

You walk faster, trying to get to your locker and open it.

During the whole class, Shawn couldn’t keep his eyes off of you and threw paper at you that had little messages on it - ones you didn’t answer because you were there to learn, not be distracted by idiots who couldn’t drive. Unfortunately for both of you, Shawn got you in trouble, earning both you and him after school detention.

“Y/N, why are you acting like such a child?” Shawn slams your locker shut.

“What do you want Shawn? Why can’t you just leave me the hell alone?”  You furiously get out, making his brown eyes widen.

He places both of his hands on either sides of your head, boxing you in.

Your breath hitches as your eyes set sight on his neck, focusing so hard you could almost see the pulse under his skin.

He smells of musk and vanilla, the v-neck he has on allowing you to see a little skin as his shirt presses against his bicep, making your mouth go dry.

“Do I make you nervous, Y/N?” He teases lowly.

You push him away from you aggressively, needing to get out of this situation.

“You make me furious, that’s what. Just, stop bugging me, okay?”

“Just as long as you stop getting in my way!”

It took everything in you to just walk away and not faint, the close encounter with him making you a little lightheaded. Oh god, why was this boy messing with your head?

Week 3

You and Shawn had been partnered up for an English project, making you hate everything at the fact that you two would be spending a lot of time together.

It was awkward as you sat on his couch in the living room, trying to come up with some ideas that you could use for your video project, Shawn doing the same.

You two hadn’t said much, but your eyes can’t help but wander over to Shawn’s slouched figure as his messy hair and sweatshirt ignites a fluttering feeling in your stomach.

You knew you should’ve let the car thing go a long time ago, but you came to the conclusion that you were using that as a barrier between you two, not wanting to become friends with him in case you packed up and left again.

You brought this thought up with your mother when she asked you why you were being so weird with Shawn.

She assured you that you were there for good, but you didn’t know if you could believe that.

“This is killing me.” Shawn snaps suddenly, closing his laptop and rubbing his eyes.

“What is?” You ask, getting tired of research.

“This.” Shawn gestures between you two and you look at him, expectantly.

“I don’t understand.” You say dumbly, feeling paralyzed.

“Why do you hate me so much? I mean, I don’t get it.”

“Seriously? You almost hit me with your car.”

“I was taking a snapchat, I had a good reason.”

You squint at him and your mouth comes open for a second. Your blood rises to your face as the infuriating fact comes to light.

“You were snapchatting? Seriously? You’re a dick.”

You begin to gather up all your stuff, deciding that today was finished.

“Calling me a dick isn’t going to make me like you, Y/N.”

“I don’t want you to like me, Shawn. I want you to stop being such an asshole.”

“You’re so impossible, oh my god!” Shawn shouts, putting his hand against his forehead.

God, he’s so sexy when he’s angry.

Um, what the hell, Y/N?

You stay silent and avert your gaze, feeling awkward.

“Will you get the hell out of my house? I can’t stand your presence right now.” Shawn scoffs and you resist the urge to slap him in his perfectly sculpted face. “Gladly.” You say, slamming the door behind him.

Week 4

You had been invited to go bowling with a new friend and her group of friends. Leah, was a sweetheart and really funny and you thought that you were going to have a great time tonight. That is, until you saw Shawn.

The bowling alley smelt of pizza and shoe cleaner, a horrible combination. Yet, neon lights exploded from within the building while some pop song made its way to your ears.

“Y/N!” Leah shoots her hand up to wave you over and you do so, your heart racing at the thought of meeting new people, but also because of Shawn.

“Hey, uh, so this is Ian, Brian, Lyall, Shawn, Rayah and Tim.”

You smile at them as they all say hi to you and they look like a friendly group, so why would you be so uncomfortable? Oh, that’s right.

You split up into teams, everyone pairing up with someone except for you and Shawn.

He looks at you, rolling his eyes. “Leah, I gotta go. I’m hanging out with Lauren tonight.”

“But, Shawn! Then Y/N won’t have a partner.” Leah whines, not wanting him to leave.

“That’s fine. I don’t mind.” You say, really not minding.

“No, Shawn, cancel on Lauren and stay.”

Shawn looks between you and Leah, then back at you as he shakes his head.

“Can’t, sorry.”

It’s an hour later when Shawn comes back, his hair messy and lipstick slightly smudged on his neck, making you grimace. Your game was over and people were getting pretty tired, signaling you were all getting ready to leave.

“Just in time to walk right back to your car again.” Leah comments, making Shawn shoot her a glare.

“You’ve got a little...” you gesture to his neck and he swatches it, pulling back some red lipstick on his hand. “Bye Shawn.”

“Bye Y/N.” Shawn chuckles and you nod, biting your bottom lip as you watch him walk away, his jawline popping out of his face as he looked to the right to cross the street to his car.

Get yourself together, Y/N. Sure, he was attractive, but do you really want to like that?

Yes.

But didn’t you hate him like five minutes ago?

Yes.

Week 5

Shawn had been coming around a lot lately, mostly to drop off Aaliyah, but sometimes with his parents and to say you were uncomfortable would be an understatement. You would sometimes have to go over to his house with Ethan or your parents as well, however you were able to see a different side of Shawn. The Shawn his family saw was a completely different Shawn then the one he showed you. He loved his family and the way he treated Aaliyah made him harder to resist. After all, the only reason why he was a jerk to you, was because you started to be one to him the time you met him at the park.

So, with your newly developed feelings sitting on your heart, you wanted to just tell Shawn that you found him hot and sexy and cute and he really was a good person and you wanted to apologize for being so awful to him and -

“Y/N?”

You eyes shoot up to Shawn’s mother, Karen who was standing in the doorway. Oh god, that’s right, you had come to Shawn’s house to tell him.

“Hi, Karen, um, is Shawn home?”

She smiles sweetly, “he is! Shawn - someone’s at the door for you.” She winks at you and walks away when she hears him bounding down the stairs.

Shawn is all my smiles and thanks his mom, but when he sees you, he has a stone cold expression on his face and shuts the door behind him.

“What are you doing here?” He asks, his arms crossed over his chest as he looks at his car parked in the driveway.

You lick your lips, dark spots appearing in your eyes as you feel panicky.

“Look, I’m sorry I’ve been such a bitch to you. I didn’t want to move here and so I’m on shaky terms with my parents and I have no friends here and you almost hit me that day and so I came out as a bitch. That’s not who I actually am and I’ve seen who you really are and I know you’re not a jackass. So I wanted to apologize because -”

You’re cut off, a pair of lips slamming against yours and you stumble back, frightened at first. But somehow, you feel at peace and Shawn’s hands come to cup your face, a warm tingly feeling spreading throughout your body.

When he pulls back, your eyes stay shut for a few seconds and he rests his forehead against yours, breathing deeply.

“Thank god you said that because I tried my best not to feel anything for you, but I failed. Big time. I was going to be so screwed if you decided to hate me forever.” Shawn laughs, getting you to crack a smile.

His laughter was sent from the heavens above, honestly.

Your mind felt fried as you and him had been through so many ups and downs since you’ve moved here and honestly, it was confusing. But, somehow it felt okay.

-

requests are closed at the moment!

[itsmosblog]

Gunshot Gin Slings in Badenoch

For the last 10 years, the Gentlemen of Kingussie have offered hospitality for a period of about 24hrs somewhere between Christmas and New Year, to a motley crew of sometime gentlemen from near and far.  Up until this year, my role in this event has been to take reception of the remnants of that hospitality in the shape of a messy Spook the next day.  Tales of fun, laughter, wee stashes of  alcoholic treasure to be found around the cycle route (because it’s just a bike ride, really) - a route carefully chosen to take in at least a couple of watering holes so that the boys don’t become too dehydrated, and a tasty meal at the end of the day in very understanding establishments that recognise the value of Highland Hospitality. 

Last year I received an invite from an eminent Lady of Kingussie to transport Spook to the event and then stay on to help create one of our own, along with some other gentlewomen.  However, I couldn’t make it, so she suggested I put it in my diary for this year - which I did.  .

The day began by transporting 5 erstwhile gents from Lochaber to Kingussie whom I dropped off at the Silverfjord Hotel for their bacon rolls before I headed up to Lindy-Lou, The Lady of Kingussie.

http://www.kingussieaccommodation.co.uk/silverfjordhotelaccommodationkingussieaccommodationhotels.html.html

  We had a relaxed coffee and a great catch-up blether while waiting for her sister, PeeCeeFee.  The other gentlewoman expected couldn’t make it as she had picked up Man Flu from her husband. It must have been a ferocious dose as normally that kind of thing doesn’t floor a woman.  At a leisurely pace, we headed out with one x bike pump, 1 x spare tube which may have been an 26 “ or a 29″,( we weren’t sure), and 1 x Allen Key which was of a size unlikely to be of any use to anyone - each item supplied by a different member of the group. We felt confident that we were resourceful enough to make this count under any circumstances and most importantly, the girls also had some very very tasty stuff in hip flasks.  The sun was shining.  Speyside in full glory.

With a lack of selfie experience, I kept yelling - “can you see the Barracks noo?”  “What about the noo?”  “Help, I canny see, it’ll just have to do.”

PeeCeeFee and Mee

10 minutes into the ride was a hip flask stop.  Which was about 5 minutes after the Selfie stop.

Apart from recognising that we had crossed over Feshiebridge, and must surely by in a place that was most likely Glen Feshie, I really hadn’t a clue where we were - but that didn’t matter.  These girls were born and bred here, so I felt in good hands.

By an amazing coincidence we came upon a carpark by a wee lochan, where Lenka was waiting with hot pies for the boys.  This really did come out of the blue to me as I was fairly sure we were in the middle of nowhere.  But these girls knew what they were doing.

There were a lot of boys ( Lindylou spied a lady and wondered what she had to do to get on the ride - turned out that she had provided homebaking and home brew in the shape of plum gin, which she was willing to generously share, whilst Lindylou was jealously guarding the Gunshot Gin in her hip flask - a fact that was not lost on her husband, to whom she had given the Gunshot gin for his christmas.  This is the kind of attitude that gets one barred from the event.) Anyway, thankfully there was a lot of pies and as Lenka is also a gentlewoman of Kingussie and should really be on the girls event, we managed to get our teeth into some of them.

The boys then hooked onto our ride and distracted us with some extra climbing and single track which gave me the opportunity to do some downhill running with the bike to keep me upright.  The only time I spoke to my own husband was to complain about the substandard bike he had provided for me - another attitude which can get one barred from the event.  Grudgingly, in retrospect, it may have been my skills that were substandard and not the bike.

As the sun was setting, we were approaching the first of two watering holes.  

Loch Insh. http://www.lochinsh.com/eat-drink.asp 

The girls modestly sipped a few gins from the benefit of a tiny kitty.

The boys were operating out of a kitty the size of a man eating lion.  It was noted that Sarah - the maker of the plum gin, was drinking pints.  This is the kind of behaviour that gets you into the boys camp.

Lindylou - still worried about repercussions from with holding the Gunshot - hoped that heavily disguising herself as a pint of Guinness might help her to blend in.  Sarah, through lack of experience of the ethos of the day, had unfortunately made a schoolboy error.  She had made a prior commitment to provide an evening meal for her inlaws.  Her husband had peeled off before the pub stop, to nip home and check all was well there with a casual “off you go and have a pint darling and I’ll pick you up in a wee while.”  Sarah had a pile up of pints awaiting her at every turn and by the time Mr Sarah and son turned up, she was looking good for the next watering hole. But women are so reliable and off she went to get dinner into the oven, and off we went for the long, 2 mile cycle to the Suie in Kincraig - once the boys had stopped gabbing. 

They are just lucky they didn’t get mugged on the way with that giant kitty.

(potential muggers)

Lenka delivered the remaining cold pies and settled in by the fire with her daughter and the wummin.

https://www.facebook.com/suidhelodge/

The boys had a lot of cash to get through......

Unfortunately, this resulted in a dilemma as we left the Suie on a frosty night, with the option of two vans of shame.  Who was the most in need?  I’m not quite sure how it happened, but all three husbands and a cold South African made it into one of the vans.  I did get some advice from PeeCeeFee that certain death awaited my wobbly husband if he attempted the 6 miles to Kingussie.  Sir Malcolm of Thainstown had gallantly offered to come and get us girls anyway, but there was only room for my bike and no room for me so I was sent to the boys van, where I received a prickly reception.  Not only were the husbands still smarting from the unwillingness to share the contents of the hip flask, but in a shameful bout of neediness, we girls had wanted the boys to wish they were in our camp, so we had weaved a tale of a hot tub in a secret location for which we were willing to consider written and photographic applications (that they possessed adequate attire for the tub,)  None of the husbands had made the cut, and this  seriously back fired on me as I tried to get in the van.  Apparently I hadn’t made the cut.

Everyone did make it back safely to Kingussie and it was with great delight and relief that the girls event was completed with a home made curry and a cup of tea by the stove at Lindylou’s and that we were spared the slippery slope of the Silverford.  Who needs a hot tub anyway?

Thanks to Jonesy for the continued hospitality year on year and the boys promise they will finally repay it in Lochaber next year.  As will the girls, in their own way with or without adequate tools or bikes - or hot tubs. (And we promise to be better at sharing.  (Let’s consume the Gunshot before we start and stick something less special in the flask))

And may I just add that it is very disappointing that Lindylou’s husband - Dastardly Dave - could not rise above the Gunshot Gin incident and the fictitious hot tub, and that I did not appreciate his response to my appeal for his assistance to remind me of Lindylou’s mothers name.  It is NOT Tricia - it is Sheila and I knew that perfectly well after more than 22 years of acquaintance.  I just get a wee bit forgetful sometimes.  Your card is marked.