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heavyironsbasement · 4 months ago

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Heyo, Anon here. What exactly do you think of the other Card bots on your team? (Specially the ones who joined here with you) hmm?

"The other Metal Cardbots? If you're asking for my opinion, there is not much I can say about them... I have not had the proper time to interact.”

Heavy Iron responded… well. It was more like he hesitated to interact with the other Metal Cardbots.

“- So I shall speak of some off battlefield impressions and current observations.”

“Let us start with those who are on this app with me.”

“Blue Cop is an intelligent and skilled Metal Cardbot. He has skills worthy of his status as a Star Guardian. I’ve fought cardbots that were under par with him before.” ( @blue-policerobot )

Heavy iron sighed, softly.

“Though, Earth has softened him.”

He paused.

“As of late in fact, I would notice him returning during the dead of night. Critically injured and often beelining the second he returns towards Mega Ambler’s medical bay.”

He paused again.

“I am unsure if Mega Ambler confronted him about that yet.”

“Speaking of him. Mega Ambler is a good doctor, despite his... lack of a license..." ( @unlicensedmedicalcardbot )

Heavy Iron honestly wondered if it was even safe to trust Mega Ambler's medical procedures besides the occasional Healing Pulse. He was particularly worried in the future for when any of them would require surgury. That was not a fun thing to envision at all...

"I only trust him with Recycle Shot and Healing pulse. Outside combat... my self recovering function is enough to bring me to my prime, with enough available energy."

-------

“Shadow X, however. Is a BRAT.” ( @shadowx-ishere1 )

Heavy Iron hissed out, pure unbridled spite laced his tone. He did not had a bright opinion on that kid.

“You have no clue how many times we have fallen victim to that child’s stupid pranks… not too long ago, Buster Gallon came complaining to me while covered in glitter. While amusing, you could not but help feel a little bit of sympathy for him. Glitter is rather difficult to clean out after all.”

“Mega Trucker tends to blast his music a lot, it was enjoyable at first. But overtime, it eventually grows into a bad helmache.” ( @thelatinodancerbot )

“The others tell him to keep it down before I could intervene myself.”

“Buster Gallon is sharp, though he is a bit of a trickster. Regardless, he has a good helm on his shoulders. He understands what tasks need to be completed and carry’s them out with efficiency before retreating to his workshop.” ( @bustergall0n )

“Asides from the rare interaction. We do not talk much. The little ones, the Mini Gallons. I find myself somewhat fond of them”

He scoffed slightly with amusement. They were endearing. They reminded him of-

“Fleta Z, I’ve found from experience that he is quite the formidable sniper. Recently I discovered from passing conversation that he was formerly The Hunter Of The Wilderness.” ( @gracefulbountyhunter )

Looking away, he admits.

“I’ve had my encounters with him in the past back on Machnia. I never would have guessed a gentleman such as him was so deadly.”

“But it fits him.”

With a small but weary chuckle, he contiuned.

“Black Hook.” ( @capta1nstreasure )

“…”

“I have very colourful language I can and will not hesitate to use to address him.”

He responded, turning to the side to glance at Black Hook, his optics narrowing subtly, before turning away to look back at Anon.

“Though I am guaranteed to get banned if I say it here.”

He was about to move on, before he added.

“We only tolerate each other thanks to the influence of Jun and the Metal Breath.”

“Then there is Dexter to consider. Dexter has recently joined us on Tumblr not too long ago.”

“He’s… strangely unique. Those tiny earth mammals you humans refer to as cats, flock to him like a herd. I avoid him often, lest there be an accident where I do not mind my step.” ( @k1ttykatwhisperer )

“Let us move onto those not on Tumblr, shall we?”

He said, already thinking about what he could say about the others.

“Wild Guardy is a Metal Cardbot who had a lot of potential. I gathered that he wanted to become a Star Guardian who surpassed Blue Cop. Based on the fight before my sealing… If Machnia had not exploded. He could very well have had a successful career.”

----

"Phoenix Fire has pyrophobia despite being designed for firefighting. It is very ironic, though I find it convenient that his reaction time is superb when it comes to extinguishing fires."

"I would have burned the warehouse down already if it was not for him."

Happily, he flashed back to the first day he spent at Edo’s repair garage.

“Hahaha! Good times, very good times.”

“Buffalo Crush however… is… special. There is not much I can say about him at the moment. I never had the proper opportunity to observe him.

Pausing, he mulled over the list of Cardbots. Did he get them all…? He thinks he did. Nodding once to himself in satisfaction, he turned back to the anon.

“I do realize there are the other Metal Cardbots from beyond Motown at present. But I have not met them yet to form a proper opinion.”

“That concludes this question.”

“Although, I apologize it took so long to respond. I shall reply to the other ask’s momentarily.”

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sakascal · 5 months ago

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Living Fiction - Chapter 1

This story was written for @hazyconstellationss as a part of the Good Omens Reference Library Discord Server Gift Exchange. Hello @hazyconstellationss, this is your secret demon trying to tempt you into dropping everything to read this now. 😉

You gave me the prompts for a human AU where florist Crowley gives writer Aziraphale a gift and somehow that turned into this little story of two idiots pining over each other. I hope you like it! This is my first ever AU and I had a ton of fun writing it, so thank you very much for that fabulous prompt! 💜

Thank you to the GO Reference Library for setting up this gift exchange.💜

Thank you to my wonderful friends and fellow writers at @whickberstreetwriters for friendship and moral support and especially to @rcreveal, @playdohangel, @bohoteacher, @angie-words and @sixshotsinatumbllr (and for this chapter specifically @rcreveal, @playdohangel, @bohoteacher, @sixshotsinatumbllr) for phenomenal beta reading, fun comments, helpful insights and wonderful ideas on how to improve this. And for fixing spelling and especially grammatical errors aplenty. 😁 Couldn't have done it without you.💜

Also thank you to my lovely daughter who went above and beyond when I handed her my iPad and pen and asked her for a quick digital drawing of a plant to use as a cover for a story. Two hours later I had this little masterpiece you see below. Yes, I may be laying it on a bit thick here with the praise, but I am a very proud mom of a very talented 9-year-old, so I think I may be permitted a bit of gushing. 😊

(If you see this, Mausi: Hab dich lieb! And don't go to my AO3 account. You are nine, that's not the right place for you. Especially not because you go 'eeewww' every time you see me kissing Papa.😂)

Rating: T

Summary

For two years self-published romance writer Azariah Fell has been coming to this café, three times a week on a schedule. He likes to work there, with easy access to refreshing hot drinks and delicious pastries, and always sits at the same table, directly at the window with the street right in view. And if he is honest, it's the view that he's coming for - but not of the street.

Right across the street is the florist shop 'Serpens et Horto', and the proprietor Anthony Crowley keeps drawing his eyes. Azariah regularly finds himself buying plants and flowers at that shop, even though he had known nothing about plants when he first came to this café. So, is it really a surprise when one of the main characters in his latest book has a striking resemblance to Anthony Crowley?

Excerpt

It wasn’t like he was staring at the man, like a creep or a weirdo or anything. He was just idly gazing out his shop’s window when he had nothing better to do, and that table just happened to be right across from it. And that was simply right where the man was. Three times a week. He was hard to miss with his pale hair and old-fashioned clothing. Waistcoat over a button-up shirt, a bow-tie and even braces. During the summer when the man had opened his waistcoat to evade a heatstroke, Crowley supposed, he had seen them peek out. Like he was cosplaying a bloody librarian. And those tiny reading glasses sitting low on his dainty, pointy, upturned nose were ridiculous - and bizarrely charming.

“Is he back again?” Warlock had come up behind him while Crowley had not been staring at the man across the street.

“Hmm? Oh, him,” Crowley said in an attempt to salvage the situation. Pining after a man didn’t fit his image.

But apparently he couldn’t even fool a tween. “So, have you asked him out yet?”

“No,” he answered with a sigh, crossing his arms over his chest. Crowley didn’t even know his name, for fuck’s sake. “Not that it’s any of your business,” he added, growling, when he realised that might have sounded slightly pathetic.

“Really don’t know what you’re waiting for,” Warlock went on, obviously unperturbed.

Crowley knew. Kind of. He wasn’t even sure if the man was truly interested - or just really liked plants. As often as he came in here to buy one. His flat must be a veritable green house by now. Or maybe he was simply terrible at keeping them alive. If that was the case, he would actually be morally obligated to stop selling him plants, wasn’t like they could defend themselves.

But those times when the man came into ‘Serpens et Horto’ were the only chances Crowley got to talk to him. He enjoyed talking to him and used every opportunity he got. And still, he didn’t even know his name. Somehow, he just never found a good enough reason to ask for his name. The man certainly knew his name, though, not that it was difficult with Crowley wearing a name tag.

“You know,” Warlock continued, “men your age really shouldn’t hesitate on these things. It’s not like you have time to waste.”

“Men my–!” Crowley swatted at Warlock, who jumped out of range just in time, laughing. Fucking reflexes of youth. “I’m 45, not half dead!”

Read on AO3

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #good omens fanfiction #aziraphale x crowley #good omens fanfic #aziracrow #good omens ao3 #whickber street writers association #good omens human au #GOrlsecretexchange2024

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chlorogoth · 3 months ago

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Got my spiders!

I love spiders so much. I form mutualistic relationships with household/houseplant spiders, and I have 3 distinct lines that have lived and moved with me for 20 years now. While discussing coping mechanisms and hobbies, my therapist asked if I've ever had actual pet spiders. I'm trying not to feel ashamed or stupid that I've never thought of it before, but yeah, I should have done this so, so long ago.

I was planning on getting a grammostola pulchra, a long lived, very large, very black tarantula. The males can live to around 8, and females around 30. They get to be about 6-7 inches across, and are known for being relatively docile and curious spiders, and have the nickname of black lab spider (referring to labrador retrievers).

I found a reputable breeder in my city that had a g. pulchra, and made an appointment to pick the cutie up. HOWEVER, I came home with a baby grammostola pulchra, tliltocatl albopilosus, and caribena versicolor. 3 tiny slings (the word for spiderlings at this stage). They are so precious!

I won't know their genders for a long time, and I find myself switching between genders for them constantly, even in the same sentence. Just a heads up, cause I've been told that it's confusing. I just read my post and I added this paragraph after experiencing it myself.

The little blue baby on the acrylic is my c. versicolor. I don't have a picture of him in my hand as this little guy wanted to go directly into his new enclosure. He walks around on the side and you can see his tiny itty bitty fangs and book lungs! They are making some nifty webs already.

The next picture is my g. pulchra! I'm in love. I've never, ever, ever had a more docile spider in my hand. I opened his cup, and without any prompting he walked right on to my hand and chilled. They walked right into their new enclosure when I offered. I love them! She did lose a leg during a previous molt, you can see his back right leg is just a nub where it started to regenerate during their last molt. She made a burrow inside the little cave I made, patrols her new enclosure, and just has no fear of me. Calm, cute, the most baby spider baby that I've ever babied, and I've watched over generations of egg sacs. Just a precious little thing.

The last picture is my curly hair tarantula, t. albopilosus. He also went onto my hand and into his new enclosure without prompting. That really surprised me. This guy is a little timid, and gets spooked, but that is what you expect of slings. He is an excavator, and really re-arranged his new home to his liking immediately. She was funny; watching her waving his little arms at a bit of moss he doesn't like right before he moves and buries it. Very fun to watch.

I have no idea what I'm going to name them yet, except maybe 1. I typoed colorful as 'colorfuk' when describing my c. versicolor to my sister, so that may be his name.

I'm probably going to reblog this post a whole bunch in the next week because I want to. I'll also update with pics of what the adults of each species looks like, and maybe their enclosures. I'm so enamored with the little dudes!

#story time #slings #spiderlings #my new babies #grammostolla pulchra #caribena versicolor #spiders #spider #tliltocatl albopilosus #tarantula

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alicepao13 · 7 months ago

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Other than the part where he can’t figure out his CLIP-ON BOWTIE, that is.

I thought it was clip-on but I don't have the slightest relation to bowties!!! Then what the hell were the both of them doing???

I mean, Toronto is right there and a much higher-stakes target, and they even have a sign just like this one with several big Os that Rex could jump through.

Oh, but Toronto probably didn't give them financial incentives to film there because Toronto doesn't need advertising. Now I know one more city in Canada, for example. Which I will hopefully still remember in like, two years. But I think this promotion was mostly done for domestic tourism, not for someone like me.

I love that they referenced it in passing. Like “hey, there’s a tiny bit of continuity here if you take note.”

I gasped. Once I realized who Iris was, anyway. It didn't register the first time. Continuity? On my doggo show?

I read it as Rex going “what’s up with my partner, this isn’t the right woman, ah fuck it he never listens to me anymore anyway.”

Yeah, it's more like, how the shot is framed. I'm not sure he's feeling left out. Also Rex lives with Charlie, he probably knows all about how Charlie needs to... you know. Since this Rex is more chill, I think he wanted for Charlie to not have long dry spells.

I think I called him a womanizer but had already been blocked for other reasons LOL. Look, when this first aired, I had a newborn, was in PPD hell, wasn’t sleeping, it was the height of Omicron, and basically ready to snap because my comfort show was pissing me off. So I had a WTF reaction to Trina. I can watch it now and go “yeah, okay, let them get laid” when I see Michael and Trina. I’ve made my peace with both those characters and wouldn’t hate it if they both came back.

Honestly, some people need to understand that commenting on a show is often not that deep, and that making a careless comment is not the end of the world and it's not worth blocking people over. Also, full disclosure, my way of thinking about Charlie's character with that person's thinking was more aligned than with yours or what you were posting at the time, except: I don't idolize any character, I don't put any character on a pedestal, and I sure as hell will criticize characters that I like, and joke about them given the opportunity with other fans, and everything. And if the result is for someone to feel butthurt about their favorite character and me getting blocked without them even deeming me deserving of a single word or explanation, so be it. I get that everyone has issues, everyone has real life problems that I'm unaware of, but I'm also a person who will feel some kind of way about it, and will have certain thoughts about that kind of passive-aggressive action. I get it, confrontation is not easy, even reaching out is not easy. But I think blocking has become way too easy. I'd prefer someone to scream at me, actually.

Also, for what it's worth, I wish I could have reached out to you (and other fans on tumblr) back then because in some cases I'd noticed that some of you just needed someone else to confirm that yes, they could see that there was something in the way those idiots were still giving each other longing glances, flirting, etc. For me, it was mostly clear what the show was trying to do in terms of relationship progression (in a disjointed way) and most of the fun was in trying to guess how far they were willing to go before they got them together and for how long, the only confusion was a bit in the middle of S4. I'm sure that if things had been different, you would have noticed the signs too. The things that were holding me back were, a) it was a Canadian show, and I had no reference for Canadian crime shows, and b) my sister has told me ad-nauseam that I tend to spoil it for people lol. But the way the last few episodes were going, I believe my guess was for Charah canon in S5, not 4. My earlier guess in the start of the season was S4 but they decided to make it more angsty so any of my guesses past that was S5. Not complaining, I believe I'd even written a post where I wrote "enjoy the UST while it lasts because they can't redo that once they're canon".

Not that I wasn't getting frustrated at times, but I was willing to give them the time to get there. I think I was more frustrated with the fact that there was no real resolution at the end of S4 and we had to go on hiatus like that, than I was in any point during S4. The fact that my ships usually take their sweet time to become canon, if they become canon at all, has certainly helped.

If I had an emotional reaction to this one , No Man Is An Island totally blew it out of the water and I look forward to the glorious angst to come. It’s my favourite episode of the season and it’s probably in my top 10 overall.

I wish I could pinpoint to one episode as favorite S4 episode. I liked a lot of them and for different reasons.

Hudson and Rex S04E11 - Capital Punishment - Part C

I will finish this. One way or another. I promise.

It took this smooth operator five seconds of standing like an idiot to tell Trina that she looks great.

Rex is watching carefully.

He does.

"But I want him with Sarah."

What did she do to that poor bowtie?

"Where would I be hiding weapons, moron?"

Only internally.

The bowtie has magically fixed itself. Not that I'm paying close attention or anything.

I'm sorry but what use are internet cafes in 2022 when most actual cafes have a decent internet connection?

I'm sure everyone opens doors that way. If he wanted to not get fingerprints on it, he could have used his elbow.

"[...] showed Canadians that extremism isn't just something our southern neighbors have to contend with." Yes, only the US has terrorism. What? Even my country has had a quite deadly terrorist organization.

Well, they usually give awards to the least deserving people. We are the exception, of course.

Tell him, Joe!

"If no one's going to do anything about this, I'll do it myself."

Well, there's no plan for "my dog took off with a bomb in his mouth."

Okay, first of all, this is the funniest way to say "I'll blow up Rex". Second, I think we should be more concerned about the fact that Rex might be anywhere, including (as we saw later) running next to dozens of people. Generally, it's not a great situation, even though Rex ultimately did save the day.

Uh-oh, Charlie has an idea.

"Rex does this all the time, how difficult can it be?"

I think I actually made a Geralt joke (from the Witcher, I mean he'd have been killed from that height) somewhere on this blog the first time.

Okay, Hamilton, how much did you guys pay for that slow-mo? This is embarrassing. And Rex looks like he's lost.

Damn, he has a strong head.

Wow, dude hates us.

That's a nice shot. I'm not particularly fond of the slow-mo on Charlie's expression in the next shot because he has to also hold his fist up and it kind looks weird in my opinion but this one's a nice shot.

This. I mean, I did what to see his expression, I just don't find the pose particularly great.

This I love, though. The music stopping, the sound coming like he's underwater, the sound of his breaths... And then as he punches Houle, there's nothing but the sound of his rage and his punches until he hears Rex barking.

For the record, I believe you should be allowed to punch the guy who you think killed your dog, cop or no cop. John Wick that motherfucker.

"Hey, hey, hey, I'm here, man, I'm okay."

He was so worried.

"You did fuck him up a bit, though, right?"

I was very normal about this all the 1564 times I watched it between January 21, 2022 and Mar 23, 2022. The first 1200 times were all on the first week because we were snowed in. I'm not crazy.

"Let me give you a proper lick-up, it lowers the stress level. You silly goose, you really thought I can die?"

Stop it! I'm serious, I don't want to have to open a new post for the remaining 3 minutes!

Jesse: "Charlie is getting an extended vacation?" Sarah: "Jesse, I wouldn't really call it a vacation." Jesse, let the man fuck.

That Iris Cross report must be important. I'm kidding, I know that Jesse is probably trying to find a way to not mention the countless moments of negligence in that report.

Don't read that, there's probably tons of inaccuracies in there.

You can mention the word teamwork a million times, it still seems like nothing.

Yes, yes, we're all Charah shippers. Anyway, I'm into multi-shipping lol. But I mostly wanted to screenshot this to showcase that Rex seems kinda left out, which is not how the moments with Charlie, Sarah and Rex are shot. The latter ones always seem to include Rex, showcasing that they're family. So, yeah, for more reasons than one, I am glad to have this.

Rex: "Oh, fine, I'll allow it. Just because we're leaving tomorrow."

I definitely liked Trina, I'd love for her to come back to the show, obviously not as a romantic interest for Charlie anymore.

I'm a basic bitch, so Charlie became 50% hotter when he punched Houle. I'm unapologetic about it, and I 100% believe that dogs are worth killing for. Also, as an off-duty cop, Charlie did not act as a cop but as a person who loved Rex. If he was on duty, he'd have taken out his gun and shot him, and I would have cheered. Okay, maybe not cheered because there are real consequences from shooting a rat bastard terrorist person but I wouldn't have cared about Houle. This reaction humanizes Charlie, and I'd like for him to lose it a bit every season lol. He doesn't have to beat up people every time, we'll find other outlets.

Furthermore, I think that reaction, should it have ever been reported back to the SJPD, would have carried zero blowback. Subduing a terrorist after his bomb has blown up, and using excessive force off-duty, while saving dozens of lives? They'd have given him another medal. But the most likely scenario is that it would have prompted Joe to keep a closer eye on Charlie, because while warranted, Charlie as a more put-together cop in another time would have tried to restrain himself. My main issue with this is it wouldn't have been reported back to Joe so he wouldn't have had that information, otherwise I'd have liked it to be referenced in the season finale.

Finally, I consider part of S4 as Charlie's slut era, and I think the last time I intimated that, someone blocked me lol. At the time, it might have sounded like I was judging Charlie. But it's not really a bad thing. He's an adult, Trina is an adult, they both know that they'll only have that night and they're okay with it. Sarah is with another guy (I'm assuming they're having sex), was either of them meant to be celibate until they figured their shit out? Plus, I think it re-enforced how much in love with Sarah he was because in the next episode he got back and tried to kiss her.

#the great hudson and rex rewatch of 2024

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fivelakesinwriting · 4 years ago

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Hi there! Would love an imagine with JJ at a party, both a bit drunk and/or stoned and making out messily, heavy PDA, dancing, some teasing maybe? Ignoring everyone else, just being all over each other lmao

Author's Notes: Just something fun for our guy JJ. I have the softest of spots in my heart for that lil' blonde sweetie. It's a little short, so I'm sorry for the length. As always though, full of love. If this was your request, I hope you love it xoxo

Warnings: Drinking, Swearing, Sexual references - sexual innuendos , All characters are 18+

Requested? YES! Requests for OBX are OPEN!

*My work is not to be transferred, copied, translated or reposted to any other sites without my permission. Please see my masterlist for all other works and warnings. Thank you! xoxo

JJ Maybank didn't see anyone other than the girl in front of him. And he was starting to feel all the beers he had been drinking throughout the day so, he had cut himself off . He was worried he might not be able to see her as she sat upon his lap, curling her body into him like a cat in heat as she moved her hips to the music that played through The Chateau.

He kept his hands to himself for the time being, fingers laced behind his head underneath the brim of his backwards hat. His bottom lip was tucked beneath his teeth as he watched her, his mind racing.

"Do you wanna come dance with me?" She questioned softly, her forehead pressed to his when the music changed to a slower, sexier song. Honestly it sounded like something he would put on his sex playlist, and he made a drunken mental note to ask Kiara what this song was later.

"I don't think standing up is a good idea for me right now." JJ grinned as he adjusted his hips beneath her, eyebrows raised.

"Baby." She giggled as she tugged at the material of his shirt over his broad shoulders as she pressed a sweet kiss to either of his cheekbones.

"What do you expect? You're grinding yourself all over me." JJ replied as he pulled his hands from the back of his head and placed them on her backside over her tight shorts. He gave her backside a squeeze and pulled her even closer to him, keeping her snug in his lap.

"You look really cute today." She whispered as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pushed her chest in his face.

The blonde man simply groaned as his eyes dropped down to her breasts just under his chin. His fingertips crept to the small of her back, pushing up the hem of her shirt so he could feel her soft, warm skin.

"Don't put those in my face." JJ growled while he pushed the hem of her shirt up over the small of her back, his calloused fingertips pressed into her skin. He bowed his head forward and sunk his teeth into the side of her neck, a smile tugging at the corners of his neck as he heard her gasp over the music.

"I didn't put them in your face." She whispered in his ear before she pressed a soft kiss just below his earlobe, a smile on her face as she felt him shutter.

"You did. You always do." JJ grumbled his hands unable to find one spot to stay on his girl. Inside the back of her shirt, and then in the front only to rest on her backside again.

"Because you're easy to tease." She smiled against his neck while her fingertips reached for the tiny wisps of hair that curled out from under his hat.

With her fingers in his hair, her lips on his neck and her hips moving just so on top of him, every thing else around him seemed to just fade away. The cushion they occupied on that heirloom of a couch was their own little piece of paradise and he was more than content to be right there.

"Can I have a kiss?" JJ requested softly as he pulled his head up from her neck to look into her eyes, also hazy from the few drinks she had consumed that night.

His girlfriend gave him a soft smile before she leaned in, closing the small space between them to press her lips to his. JJ released a sigh of relief from his nostrils at the feeling of finally having her mouth on his. His fingertips pushed up the back of her shirt and flicked at the clasp of her bra playfully while his tongue slipped in her mouth.

"JJ! You have a room here! Do not fuck your girlfriend on my couch again, please!" John B yelled from the other side of the living room with his hands tossed in the air as he spotted his best friend practically undressing the girl on his lap.

"He's no fun." JJ's girl mumbled against his lips as she ran her index finger through his shark tooth necklace and, much to his dismay, ceased her delightful hip movements on top of him.

"He's the worst. C'mon. Let's go to my room."

Hotties:

@maybankslut @starkey-babie @sodasback @fashion-fasting @barrysjumpsuit @beauvibaby @professional-busboy @soph0864

*tag list is open, please let me know if I forgot you or you would like to be added. I've removed the people that don't pre-populate :(

Please let me know what you think if you have a moment! Thank you so much xoxo

Requests for OBX ARE OPEN!

#jj maybank fluff #jj maybank fic #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank smut #protect jj maybank #jj maybank #outer banks imagines #outer banks fic #obx fic #obx imagine #obx fanfiction #obx smut #obx request #obx jj #obx jj x reader

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mypoisonedvine · 4 years ago

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The Kind of Girl You Take Home to Mom (part 3 - FINALE) | Andy Barber x reader

(part 1) (part 2)

summary: andy knows how to take what he wants, and he wants you.

word count: 5.6k

warnings: SMUT, subtle dubcon elements, loss of virginity, infidelity (obviously), wedding ring kink (shocking!!! jk),

a/n: wow, after all this time I FINALLY finished this series. sorry it took so long. I still have an alternate ending that I want to write... but I wanted to go ahead and get this out first. thank you everyone for your patience! I kind of expect this to flop despite being the most requested thing ever, but idgaf.

“Honestly? I always had this weird fear that he was going to try to seduce one of my girlfriends.”

For the second time that day, you choked.

“Wh— are you okay?” Jacob gasped, running over to you as you coughed up water.

Your attempt to respond was useless as you could only sputter and cough, trying to communicate that you were fine with a casual wave, but only managing to flail your arm wildly.

“Was it something I said?” he pressed.

“No, I just—” you wheezed, but interrupted yourself with another coughing fit as your eyes watered from the lack of air.

He slapped your back to try to help you along but it wasn’t very effective, just adding one new source of pain to your predicament. I always had this weird fear that he was going to try to seduce one of my girlfriends, that was what he’d said. What does that even mean? Did he mean it like “I always had this fear, for no good reason,” or did he mean it like “I was always afraid of this, and now it’s come true”?

The way Jacob was looking at you— kind, concerned, patient— it didn’t seem like he suspected you of anything. He probably would’ve led with that if he knew something, right?

When your airways finally cleared and you were able to start catching your breath, you finished getting ready for bed quickly and hopped into bed. You couldn’t handle any long conversations with Jacob, though you tolerated some cuddling before you fell asleep.

You dreamt that night that you were drowning. Andy was holding you, his arms wrapped around you from behind as he pulled you to shore. Or was he pulling you under? Either way, you figured you’d had enough water in your lungs for one day.

You probably should’ve let them win at Scrabble… you just couldn’t help yourself.

“I have…” Jacob trailed off as he counted in his head, “177 points.”

“209,” Laurie announced, reaching over to rub Jacob on the shoulder sympathetically. “Sorry, honey.”

“384,” Andy grinned, setting down his pen and pad triumphantly and looking to you for your score.

“Um,” you stalled, almost embarrassed to say now. “I got, uh, 559.”

Laurie and Jacob erupted into sputters of confusion, demanding that you recount your points as if they hadn’t all seen you play ‘quixotic’ on a triple word space.

“Good game,” Andy murmured with a soft smirk as he stood up and left the table. You smiled back at him quickly, the other two too busy recounting the numbers on your pad to even notice.

So, that was the end of board games for the night. Jacob suggested a movie but you just knew that would just be you and him cuddling under one blanket… while Laurie and Andy cuddled under another. You weren’t sure you could take that. Instead, you decided to read your book outside— even though you figured Laurie was disappointed you didn’t want to do anything more social. Complimenting her beautifully landscaped backyard eased the blow, though.

It was hard to get comfortable on the patio couch, not because of the couch itself but because you knew it wouldn’t be long until somebody bothered you. When you heard the door open, you were a little disappointed to see Jacob approaching you.

“Hey,” he smiled, sliding in next to you on the couch and wrapping an arm around you.

“Hey,” you greeted in reply, slightly flat in your affect as you immediately dove back into your book.

“You’re feeling okay, right? We could go for a drive if you need some space,” he offered, rubbing your shoulder gently.

“No, I’m alright,” you mumbled. “You know me, I like my peace and quiet when I can get it.”

“You… like them, don’t you?” He must’ve sensed that you didn’t understand what he was referring to at first. “My family, I mean.”

“Oh! Yeah, that’s not the issue, really. I know we’re going back home tomorrow but I still need to decompress a little bit. I’ll be more social tonight, promise.”

When you looked up at him, his face was closer than you’d anticipated. It reminded you of when you two met, at a party where the music was so loud that you’d had to stand about this close to be able to carry a conversation. Well, technically that wasn’t the first time you met, because you had him in one of your classes that semester, but it was the first time you’d talked. He was fun, he was new, he was friendly. I can’t stay long, I’ve got a test in the morning, you’d yelled your explanation. You’re gonna ace it anyway, he had dismissed at the time, so you should stay and have fun! You deserve to have fun.

Maybe that was what had made you attracted to him: you couldn’t think of anyone else who had been so worried about what you deserved. But now, Andy was added to that list. You hated to imagine that Jacob had inherited that nature from his father. Is he treating you right? Andy has asked you that night, and you really weren’t sure even now what the answer was. He certainly wasn’t treating you poorly, but was that enough?

Back in reality (and not in your whizzing, anxiety-ridden thoughts), Jacob leaned in and kissed you softly. The kiss was just like him: patient, gentle, but also somehow energetic. It was… nice. Comfortable. Feeling a surge of boldness, you set your book aside and leaned into him, pushing the kiss a little deeper.

He let out a tiny little noise, nearly a moan, as your tongues began to slide together. His hand reached up to cradle the back of your head— you remembered that he did that a lot when you were making out, but all those times felt so foreign now. Your hands reached up to rub against his chest through his t-shirt; that dark maroon one he wore all the time, so much that it was forming a few holes at the hem. His hand slid down to your back and—

“Am I interrupting something?” Andy’s voice tore you both from the moment and from each other’s arms.

“Dad!” Jacob protested, sounding particularly immature with the way his voice rose to a shrill yelp of shock.

“I was just coming out here to let you know that your mother wants your help with dinner,” Andy explained, “but I wasn’t going to let an opportunity to embarrass you like that go by.”

“You never do,” Jacob sighed, giving you a quick kiss to the cheek as a goodbye as he stood up and walked inside. You felt Andy’s eyes on you as you looked to the ground awkwardly, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. A few seconds after the door was shut, he spoke again.

“I couldn’t let you two get too hot and heavy, and besmirch this innocent patio couch.”

“You’d better not be mad at me for kissing my boyfriend,” you frowned as you stood up. “That’s the most normal thing that’s happened all weekend.”

“I’m not,” he assured, beginning to step closer to you. “Jealous? Slightly. Not that I see him as competition or anything.”

“Uh, you probably should,” you disagreed, raising your eyebrow in a mix of confusion and challenge.

“Honey, I saw you kissing. It was nothing to write home about,” he laughed. “He doesn’t seem to realize that, since he brought you here. Can’t blame him—-” he stepped closer to you and ever-so-delicately brushed his fingers against your arm— “but you know you can do better. You know nobody can make you feel like I do.”

“Andy,” you murmured, trying to step back as you glanced to the window by the backdoor, through which the both of you were clearly visible to anyone who sat in the living room. It was empty now, but it was too close for comfort. “Someone could see…”

“They’re in the kitchen, don’t worry,” he soothed, leaning down to ghost his lips over your cheek and neck, “nobody’s gonna see us, angel, s’just you and me…”

You didn’t want to, but you melted into his touch anyway. Just those little circles that his fingers drew on your back made your entire body erupt in shivers. “Andy,” you found yourself whispering as if you needed to remember who was doing this to you.

“I’m gonna fuck you tonight,” he whispered against your ear.

Your breath caught in your throat.

“Are you scared?” he teased. “Afraid my cock’ll split you in half?”

Embarrassed, you nodded.

He grinned, pulling back from your neck to force you into a deep, dominating kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck and clung to his shoulders, eagerly allowing his tongue access as it pressed into yours. A little moan escaped you, causing him to pull your body even closer. You had worried that kissing the two of them in a row like this would lead to an inevitable comparison, which would be beyond disgusting. But nope, this kiss made you forget that you’d kissed Jacob at all. Not that that exactly stopped it from being disgusting.

You knew if you didn’t stop yourself now, you wouldn’t be able to soon… and you really needed this kiss to end before you two got caught. Pushing on his chest, you pulled back with a sigh.

“We shouldn’t—” you began.

“No, you’re right,” he agreed with a reluctant nod. Still, you missed his touch now that it was gone. “We’ll have plenty of time for that later. It’s just hard to keep putting on a happy face when all I want is to grab you and bend you over the table and—”

“Oh god, you can’t talk like that,” you laughed nervously. “You’re gonna drive me crazy, I swear.”

“Haven’t I already?” he smirked.

You nodded, because he was completely right. With a quick wave, you opened the door to step into the house. He called your name, getting your attention as you turned around. In his hand, arm outstretched, was your book. “Almost forgot this,” he smiled.

“Right, thanks,” you nodded, taking it and going back inside.

You spent the rest of the day reaching new heights of anxiousness. Shaking your leg, chewing your lip, scratching your wrist— how could you relax after what Andy had said, how could you act casual? You were just waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the obvious opportunity to arise and for Andy to be inevitable like he always was.

You weren’t sure how he did it, but he did. He got Laurie and Jacob to leave you two alone in the house. With his influential career, he was probably used to getting what he wanted, but you hadn’t anticipated that he was so good at the hard work it took to get those things.

He got you, though. Not that that took all too much hard work.

“Enjoy the movie you guys!” you told them as they were making their way out the door. Jacob leaned in for a goodbye kiss, and softly asked one last time if you wanted to come.

He pulled your shirt up over your head, and you hadn’t even gotten it all the way off before he undid your bra with a quick motion. You hated to think about Jacob in that moment, but those few times you’d fooled around with him to this extreme, that part of the process had taken quite a bit longer.

When your breasts were free his hands latched onto them instantly; the rough pads of his fingers felt good against the sensitive skin, and his hands were so damn big. You felt your back arching into his touch.

“Can’t wait to get my mouth on these,” he purred, “but I need to see all of you first.”

You yelped as he picked you up and tossed you back onto the bed. He took off your socks first, which made you feel a little hot for some reason, and then reached down to pull at your shorts. You lifted your hips to make it easier, looking up at him and gnawing on your bottom lip nervously.

As he tossed your shorts and underwear aside, you suddenly felt very naked compared to his clothedness. Probably because you were completely naked and he was completely clothed. He smiled down at you before grabbing your ankles and resting them on his shoulders, starting to kiss up your leg slowly while never breaking eye contact.

You whined impatiently. “Andy, please, need you…”

“Shh,” he soothed, “we’ve got time baby, I finally got you all to myself and I’m gonna savor it.”

His lips moved up your calf and thigh, but irritatingly skipped anywhere salacious to get straight to your hips and belly. “Hnng, Andy—”

You choked on your words when he licked over your nipple, swirling his tongue around it before sucking it into his mouth. It instantly hardened between his lips and he smiled. “Baby, you’re so sensitive,” he cooed against your skin as he kissed his way to the other and did the same.

Your hips bucked up and made contact with his clothed thigh; you let out a high-pitched moan and did it again, rubbing yourself against his suit pants. The rough material sent shocks of pleasure through you as Andy smiled and left little love bites along your neck.

"Look at you, such a needy little girl," he tsked. "Rubbing your cunt on me like a whore. You're gonna make a mess, baby."

"'m sorry I just— oh, fuck," you sighed, your head falling back onto the pillow with a soft thud.

"It's only fair," he shrugged. "I don't mind spending the rest of the night with your come on my slacks. So long as you spend it with my come still in your cunt."

You gasped, trying to imagine how you would hide that from Laurie and Jacob…

But you couldn’t keep on that train of thought for very long as he started to kiss down your stomach again.

“Please, Andy, need— fuck, I need you to— um, taste me, please,” you whimpered.

“Hmm, beg a little more,” he smirked.

It was a long line of nonsense after that; some barely-intelligible string of ‘please’ and ‘Andy’ with a little flair of embarrassing whining. He laughed a little before he finally did what you’d asked, latching his lips onto your swollen clit. Your back arched instantly as your hands clenched at the comforter beneath you.

It wasn’t at all like you’d imagined it would be— it was so warm, and he alternated between surrounding you with his mouth and teasing you with the tip of his tongue. You let out a long, deep moan when his tongue slipped inside you, twisting and massaging your walls so perfectly. Your hands carded through his hair, accidentally tightening and pulling when he licked right over your clit. He didn’t seem to mind, though, just moaning against you and doing it again and again and again until your legs were quivering.

Just as you were about to tell him that you were close, he instantly pulled away to speak. “I can tell you’re close,” he purred as if he’d read your mind.

“Please, don’t stop,” you begged, but he continued to sit up and started to open his belt.

“It’s not time to come yet, honey. It’s gonna feel so much better when you come while I’m inside you— for both of us,” he grinned.

As his sweater was discarded and his trousers were pushed down, you bit your lip. You weren’t sure you would ever get used to seeing his cock, especially when it had leaked enough pre-cum to leave a wet patch on his boxer briefs.

He was on you the second he’d finished stripping, caging in your body with his, growling as he started to kiss your neck. You whined and arched your back, your heart racing as you tried to cope with the fact that this was happening, this was really happening. It was surreal, or maybe it was more than real— you were going to lose your virginity. To Andy fucking Barber.

“I think you’re ready for me, don’t you?” he asked teasingly, his hips moving forward to press his cock against your inner thigh. You nodded as you swallowed thickly, gasping as he reached down and started to rub his swollen head through your folds.

“Please…” you sighed, even as your chest tightened with distant fear.

You had wondered if what he'd said about his marriage to Laurie being sexless was true. It certainly would be a convenient lie to garner your sympathy and make him look better. But you had no doubts it was the truth when he pushed his cock into you; he moaned like a man who had dreamed of this moment for years, who had been so deprived of affection for so long.

It hurt less than you’d expected, although it was certainly overwhelming.

“Oh fuck, Andy,” you moaned,

“Say my name again, baby,” he demanded with a groan.

“Andy!” you repeated, a little louder right as the tip of his cock hit so deep inside you that it hurt— and for some reason, you wanted him to do it again.

“Fuck, you need to be quiet, or the neighbors’ll hear you,” he hissed as he pumped into you deeper and faster. “Can you do that or do I need to choke you to shut you up?”

You whimpered from fear at that idea and he laughed a little.

“Don’t act so innocent, baby, I know who you really are: you’re my dirty little slut.”

“No I’m—” you began to disagree. A quick slap to the face, not too hard but stinging nonetheless, shut you up.

“You know you are,” he hissed, “so say it.”

You could barely carry this conversation, his cock filling you so completely that you couldn’t think about anything else. “Andy, I—”

“Say it.”

You gulped but managed to pant between heavy breaths, “I’m… I’m your dirty little slut, Andy…”

He grinned and began to move faster, deeper, somehow. You clutched at his shoulders, kissing him and groaning into his mouth. When his hips slammed into yours, you moaned louder than maybe you ever had before. "You want it rough, honey?” he taunted. “Want me to fuck you hard?"

"Yes, please!" you sobbed, your voice hoarse and desperate now.

He grabbed your hips and made good on his offer of brutality, and then some, making you nearly scream. He kissed you again, perhaps in an attempt to keep you quiet, although it didn’t work that well, as you mouth fell open with every cry. His teeth captured your lip as he growled above you, holding your hips up so the angle was perfect to send his cock right into the end of you, so deep— too deep, in the most perfect way.

His cock stroking against your walls was indescribable; each thrust made your entire body erupt in shivers. The stretch was difficult but you loved it, you loved the way his body pushed yours to its limits.

"Gonna come inside you, honey," he moaned, "gonna fill you up so good, gonna mark your body with my come and make you mine."

"Oh god, Andy, please," you sobbed.

"You gonna come for me, pretty girl?” he encouraged.

“Yes, so close—” you cut yourself off as you choked on nothing, you entire body beginning to tighten and seize up as pleasure spiralled higher and higher.

“Just like that, come on my cock,” he demanded, but you couldn’t do anything else even if you tried— the coil snapped as your vision went spotty. Just as you started to close your eyes, he held your neck and stared down at you. “Look at me when I make you come.”

You struggled to keep your eyes open with the intensity of sensation washing over you, but you didn’t want to know what would happen if you disobeyed. Those blue eyes pierced through you as you shivered underneath him, and with your walls constricting his cock just felt even thicker inside you. “Andy,” you whimpered, your fingers and toes erupting into pins and needles as you felt him flexing inside you— and he must have been coming in you in that moment, with the way he sighed and his thrusts pumped deeper yet more erratically.

Warmth spilled inside you as numbness decorated your extremities and fogginess clouded your mind. You lost focus as he collapsed beside you— even when he pulled out, you still felt full, due in part to his come inside you and in part to being ruined so thoroughly by him. Maybe you’d feel normal again tomorrow, or next week, but right now it was impossible to forget that you were fucked, in every sense of the word, by Andy Barber.

He pulled you into his arms and kissed your neck slowly, his breathing slowly returning to a stable pace as his chest pressed against your back. He was mumbling something about how you were his girl, how you did so good for him, but you were already drifting into sleep even though it was barely nine o’clock.

You woke up the next morning in the guest room with Jacob beside you, who informed you that he’d found you already asleep when he got back from the movie he’d gone to see with his mom.

You left just a few hours later, waving goodbye to Mr. and Mrs. Barber as Jacob pulled the car out of the driveway.

three months later...

The sun was just starting to set as you made your way home after your last class of the night. Campus was gorgeous at this time of day, but you weren’t really taking the time to notice it as you focused instead on how wonderful it would feel to kick your shoes off, slip off your bra and slide into bed. What you didn’t anticipate when you unlocked your dorm room’s door was to find Andy sitting on your bed as he waited for you. You shut the door quickly so none of the girls mulling about the hall would see him.

He looked so out of place in your dorm. He was so… adult, and yes, everyone there was an adult, but he was a whole new level of adulthood compared to the other residents of the honors dorm.

“You shouldn’t be here,” you reminded him.

“Why shouldn’t I be?” he questioned casually.

“Because your son is on the other side of the hall,” you explained, unamused. “What if he sees you here? What if he sees your car in the garage?”

“You worry too much. I don’t give a fuck if my son lives nearby, if I wanna visit my girlfriend then I’m gonna do it.”

He’d never used that word for you before— or at least, not in front of you. It made you feel nervous, glancing to the floor as he stepped closer towards you. "I think I'm too young to be your girlfriend,” you decided.

"Perfect age for a mistress, though."

You stammered as you tried to balance the way that word made you feel sick with the way it made you feel aroused. He lifted your chin with a finger, his other hand pulling you closer at the waist. "Are you trying to act innocent, honey?” he smirked. “Do you think I didn't realize that it turns you on?"

"Wh-what turns me on?"

"The sneaking around. The secrets, the lies; the fact that it's wrong, forbidden, taboo. It's why you haven't broken up with my son yet and it's why you stare at my ring all the time— yes, I noticed."

You frowned, crossing your arms impatiently. “I haven’t broken up with Jacob because my relationship with him makes a great cover for my relationship with you… I’m doing that for us. And do you think I like the ring? I hate that stupid chunk of silver, seeing it on your hand makes me so livid because it just reminds me that I don’t have you all to myself and—”

“Baby, you know I’m all yours,” he purred, kissing down your neck as your back began to arch. “Meanwhile, I have to share you with him.”

You were amazed that he could refer to his own son with such disdain, but then again, you knew how jealous he could get.

“If you’re mine then take the ring off,” you suggested between panting breaths.

“If you’re mine then take it off for me,” he countered. His left hand was travelling up your neck and you grabbed it by the wrist. He pulled back to look at you as you brought his fingers to your mouth, kissing the tips of them before sucking on his ring finger, deeper and deeper, until it was poking down your throat and the ring was at your lips. Lubricating it with your spit and spinning it with your tongue, you used your teeth to pull the ring slowly off of his finger. He gasped a little as you opened your mouth and displayed it for him on your tongue, before spitting it out and across the room; it made a tiny little clinking noise as it hit your floor.

“Fuck,” he growled, the sound deep in his throat and dripping with desperation.

It felt like his hand never left your neck that night, like he was trying to claim you in every way he could all at once. He was so possessive over you, ironically. It was hard not to feel like your whole life was waiting. Waiting for the semester to end so the next one could begin. Waiting to graduate and get a job and finally begin your real adult life. Waiting for the marks Andy left on your skin to fade so you didn’t have to wear a turtleneck in June.

Waiting for Jacob to find out, like he inevitably would.

Waiting for Andy to leave Laurie, or at least do something to make it seem like this was going somewhere.

The thing about Andy was that he had this magical ability to make you stop worrying, in a way nobody and nothing else could. When you were apart, reality would set in again and you’d decide you needed to confront him the next time you saw him. It wasn’t even that you needed him to commit to you, specifically, you just needed to know what was going on— because how could he stay married through all this? He needed to leave her, not for you but for himself. You would get yourself all worked up and then he’d show up and soothe you until you forgot what you wanted to say in the first place. When you were together, the future didn’t matter anymore, and neither did everything that was wrong about what you were doing.

It was like living in a dream, a really strange dream. You were drowning in him, just like you’d known you would, but you didn’t want to stop. You didn’t want to stop the secret dates when you gave your friends and boyfriend some excuse about having to study, the rendezvous in the back of his car, the midnight phone calls where he was whispering so his wife wouldn’t hear.

You figured that after all this time of being a good girl— the perfect daughter, the perfect student, the perfect girlfriend, the kind of girl you’d take home to mom— you deserved to let go. You deserved to have fun.

#andy barber x reader #andy barber smut #andy barber x y/n #andy barber x you #I FUCKING FINISHED IT #stay tuned for the alternate ending

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thefanficmonster · 4 years ago

Text

Stranger In The Crowd

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: None

Genre: FLUFF, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Having recently ended the process of moving, Y/N is rightfully very tired but also very excited for the new chapter of her life. Funnily enough, this new chapter includes a newly formed long distance friendship/crush with a very special person from San Diego.

Requested by @boiled-onionrings Hi darling! Thank you so much for your wonderful request and I’m really sorry you’ve had to wait so long for it to be posted but here it finally is and I hope you enjoy the read! Love, Vy ❤

I let out a heavy sigh, relieved to finally be at home after such a long day of standing around in the Georgia heat with only a thin layer of fabric to protect my eyes and head from the scorching sun. Yeah, anyone who says that tent did well at protecting everyone under it today is nothing but a liar. I was in a short, strapless white summer dress, the fabric of which barely had any weight and consistency to provide heat of its own yet I still damn near melted. Ok, I’ll admit, some of the roasting heat probably came from the energy and force I put into singing the songs of my band’s new album ‘Starting At The End’.

The mini concert we held in this large open field was meant as an introduction to the city of Savannah where all the band members - myself included - are actually from but we all moved to the West Coast to pursue our music career. And now that we’ve grown, and the majority of us are married, one of us is a father now as well, we’ve decided to return to our hometown. The decision was so spontaneous and was executed so quickly due to no one objecting to it that it still hasn’t me that I’m no longer in LA. The heat isn’t helping my ‘processing’ process but I’ll get to it eventually. Do I miss LA though? Not sure I do - I think I more miss the people I was closer to while I was there.

Suddenly, as if perfectly timed, my phone dings, notifying me that I’ve received a message. I don’t have to look to know it’s from - there’s only one person I actively text and his name is....

C ~ Your virtual buddy Corpse here, making sure you didn’t die of a heatstroke today. If you did indeed survive, just reply to this message, if not....don’t do anything, I guess.

I can’t help but giggle at the sight of the message. I promised Corpse I’d text him after the concert to let him know I was ok, but the even dragged out for longer than anticipated so I’m guessing he got worried.

How cute.

Me ~ Alive and well, but I do feel like a popped tire of an overloaded truck. Hope that’s a visually appealing description

Corpse and I met on the charity livestream Jacksepticeye organized and invited our band to so we could play Among Us with some of the best gamers and streamers on the internet. It was a huge honor and a ton of fun, definitely an event I’d like to repeat in the near future because I had such a good time and I know all my bandmates did too. We all got acquainted and even became official friends with the gamers that were practically our hosts, Corpse becoming the closest friends I’d earn. That livestream happened months ago and we still text just as consistently.

C ~ Oh I know EXACTLY what you mean. Anyway, as to not exhaust you further to force you into typing, how about you send me pictures to sum up your thoughts and emotions and plans for the evening

This is OUR THING trademark, mine and Corpse’s and no one can take it away from us. It’s a significant element of our friendship that enables us both to understand one another when one of us feels the way I described in my message - a popped tire or a deflated balloon. I’m usually the exhausted one - blame the many shows we do and the many meet-and-greets we organize for our lovely fans. It’s the type of exhaustion none of the band members mind at all, but we definitely need some time to recover from it.

As I go to sit down on my couch, the flower crown I’ve been wearing slips off the top of my head, falling on the floor, creating a soft noise that attracts the attention of one of my many cats - Sasha. She’s the youngest and most curious kitty in the family, always protected by the other four - Luna, Cassie, Silver and Lynn. Those four are far lazier and a lot more disinterested in comparison to Sasha who immediately runs over to see what’s fallen.

I smile to myself, taking the flower crown and undoing it to lessen it by a few stems to make it smaller, all the while being watched by the curious Sasha whose interest is rewarded in the end when I put the now adorably tiny flower crown on her head.

While she still hasn’t shaken the thing off I manage to snap a pic which I send to Corpse who opens it mere seconds after it was delivered.

C ~ Sasha’s pulling off your aesthetic better than you. Sorry, someone had to let you know

I burst out laughing for two reasons - 1.The message itself, damn it! It’s hilarious; 2. Corpse has learnt the name of each one of my cats and never mixes them up - not even Luna and Lynn who look almost identical. That amount of attention to detail is astonishing and very meaningful to me, it genuinely warms my heart and that may or may not be dramatic but it’s definitely not exaggerated.

Me ~ You think I haven’t caught on yet?

C ~ Well, if it makes you feel any better you pull off my aesthetic better than I do

He’s referring to the e-girl look I did for one show the band had in downtown LA one night. I was drunk and looking forward to trying new things so I improvised the hell out of my outfit but I apparently looked presentable enough to leave a good impression on Corpse despite the pic I sent him being a bit blurry and being a mirror selfie in the bathroom of the very bar we were performing in. It goes without saying that the mirror was dirty too - had a bunch of writing on it which Corpse said only added to the aesthetic. Looking back on it now I kinda agree, and luckily so did the fans in the comments of that same photo when I posted it on Instagram.

Me ~ Means a lot actually. Nowhere near enough to aid the burn of having a cat pull off cottagecore better than I do, but still helps XD

As if sensing that we’re talking about her, Sasha hops on the couch, poking her head over my phone to look down at the screen.

Now this is gonna be golden.

I take a selfie with my phone in my lap, the camera capturing both me and Sasha at a rather unflattering angle which has me losing my mind laughing when I send the picture to Corpse who immediately sends back a string of cry-laughing emojis.

C ~ I can’t tell which one of you is cuter

Me ~ If that was a compliment, I gotta say I appreciate it greatly

C ~ Just telling the truth ;)

It’s times like these that the butterflies in my stomach remind me just why I’ve started catching feelings for this man despite all the distance between us and despite barely knowing him - he knows me more than I know him but I don’t mind it, oddly enough.

I’m fond of our connection and though I sometimes dream of something more, I’m also content with what we already have considering that ‘something more’ seems rather unattainable as of now.

My phone dings again, clearing the fog of thoughts and presenting me with a new message from Corpse.

C ~ Oh, by the way, look what I got....

That message is followed up by a picture of a ticket. A plane ticket to Georgia!

While I’m still busy stomaching this and dealing with my quickly rising excitement, he sends another message.

C ~ I hope to catch a The Silver Rays concert while I’m there. Heard they had an adorable frontwoman ;)

My breath catches in my throat as a wide grin spreads across my face. The thought of having Corpse so close to me sends those aforementioned butterflies in my stomach into a raving mood and they practically explode my insides with excitement and joy like I’ve never felt it before. I can’t wrap my brain around the fact that we’re about to go from having an entire country between us, to being just some ways away - him in the audience and me on stage without a single clue of who to look for. That’s part of the excitement though, I guess, part of the guessing game that’s gonna make our meeting all the more interesting.

He’ll be a stranger in the crowd and I’ll be a performer on a stage - seemingly two people who have no relation whatsoever. But damn does it go beyond that: No one has to know how hard I’m falling for that stranger in the crowd.

Me ~ I’ve heard so too, can’t confirm it though

If this is gonna be a guessing game, I’ll flip the tables a bit - I won’t take any guesses. I’ll let the answer come to me. I’ll give the first move over to the stranger in the crowd, let’s see what he does.

C ~ I’ll check and let you know, don’t worry

Not worried whatsoever, Corpsie. I’m not worried at all.

@maat-the-prescriptive @simonsbluee @save-the-sky @itsminniekat @hacker-ghost @bi-andready-tocry @imtiredaffff @jazzkaurtheglorious @hereforbeebo @fandomgirl17 @chrysanthykios @maehemscorpyus @loraleiix @letsloveimagines @annshit @i-cant-choose-a-username-help @enigmaticmaze @divine-artemis @waterlilypat @idontknowwhatthisisfam @evi-ka @classyandfabulous00 @redperson58 @lilysdaydreams @solowheein @mythicalamphitrite @axen-gers @luckygirl144 @nj01 @buddyemily @the-albino-lioness @stardream14 @gdhdkfnn @nomadicgypsyy @preciousskye @fluffysuicideunicornsworld @o-kaelin @manacharlotte @awkward-youtube-trash @lolalee24 @bonky-beerns @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian @strawbrinkofdeath @teenloves @tams0527 @browneyespinkhair @starstruckllamapuppy @daisychains012 @y0ulooked @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life @jula-pauline @melodykitty @just-that-bi-girl @crazybutconfidentaf @lowellshade @alphakees @bellero @weallneednamjesus @starryhanji @boiled-onionrings @husherstan @fockingwhore @melaningoddessthings @prettypastelpetals @haleypearce @godwhyamiawkward @y-napotat @daisychainyoonmin @little-miss-rebel3 @free-wheelin-bi-sexual @redmoon261 @darkacademic2 @wiseflamingoqueen @into-the-end @namikhai-i @nastiablr @thelittleplantlover @mirktuan @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny @vintagegothlover @easygoingtheatre @itsrandombooklover @miiaivi @emmybaybee @befourgolden @jjk-is-my-shit @eternalteaaars @spacebadgerx @princesslunalight @acequinn14 @samm48 @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa @fo-love @marishimomura-blog @therealglenncoco @cinnamonbun332 @killtherandomness @sanshinexxxsan @fee-btheweeb @press-lay @cathleenpotgieter16 @jazzydoesstuff @moonlxghtbay @forestrain2000 @hyunjinhugs @blood-of-fandoms @lovellylies @ukiyolixx @simpforhpcharacters @chrisdylan17 @parkerjisung @pedernille @theodonyous @wineandionysus @malfoystilinskii05 @morbid-x @coryisagee @jessewa26 @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365 @raeanneinwonderland @indecisive-empanada @gluttonypalace @loriane2503 @btsiguess-kpop @khaoticbunny @lucidlycactus @smiithys @rottenroyalebooks @kpopgirlbtssvt @fangirl-tc27 @fr0z3n-1 @notmesimpingfortechno @shotarosleftpinky @kunoi-chan @idk-whats-wrong-with-me @yikeroonie @goldenstarofthunderclan @poetry-and-tea @ama-do-writing-stuff @wishbonewolf @emeraldxhope @t0xick1tty @kusuinko @speakyourselfloveyourself @sophia902103 @lo-manburg @classsykittykat @dmgama @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee @btsiguess-kpop @akaashi-baby @gun-jong-simp @geschichtenfee @yerapotato-wp @browneyedgirl365 @thysagclub @sparklycloudnight @helloatomicshadow @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal @lucy-bunny17 @aaliyahh0 @katluckybear @boyleanti @straybids @franchesca-791 @cosmicstorm19 @averyisbackinthetrashcan @aomi-nabi @xlanawriter @allensimpsforcorpse @sunnyrae-cessh @ladykxxx08 @meowiemari @renupf @booklover76 @sra-verissimo

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maeve-writes · 4 years ago

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Heroes

Pairing: Stripper!Bucky Barnes x Reader x Stripper!Steve Rogers

Rating: 18+, Minors DNI

Warnings: Adult situations, alcohol consumption, allusion to mild cheating(??). More to be added later.

Summary: It’s your friend’s birthday and you’re dragged to the Heroes club. You’re not one for that kind of place, but you quickly change your mind after you get to play the damsel in distress for a pair of Brooklyn babes.

a/n: Unbeta’d, any mistakes are my own and please forgive me. This is the second story I’ve written in a while. Forgive me?

You normally don’t go to these sorts of places but it was your friend’s 30th birthday and it was on her bucket list. Luckily, you weren’t talked into planning any of it, just had to toss in some cash for the fee to get in and the never ending flow of drinks, plus the very special Birthday Girl Dance package.

It took you three years after the second Magic Mike movie came out to watch the first one. The idea of male strippers seemed odd. But, when you really thought about it, so did female strippers.

Nevertheless, the night ultimately wasn’t about you, it was about your friend and her birthday. You were happy to be there with your friends, enjoying the celebration and drinks, seeing hot guys take off their clothes was a weird added bonus.

Heroes was the club to go if you wanted to see buff dudes bare it all. Tara, the birthday girl, had been raving about it for months. She found videos of it online and shared them in your group chat. That, of course, had your other friends looking for more videos and all of them started to have their favorites.

“Girl, some of them even give private shows,” Sonya, the oldest and who was supposed to be the responsible one of your group, mock-whispered excitedly.

You tried not to roll your eyes as your gang was escorted to the front table near the stage. It was a semicircular booth where small round tables came up from the floor, big enough for drinks, but small and spaced out enough to allow for bodies to move around and in between.

Your host was a slender built guy on the younger side, barely old enough to be allowed in. He had a baby face and a boyish smile, but his muscles were well defined as the club forced him to be shirtless save for the small bow tie around his neck with a spider in the middle, and the tiny pair of shorts that cupped his rear which stayed there by what you guessed was his will or magic. Maybe both.

“Here you are, ladies,” he guided, instructing Tara to take her seat near the middle. “The name’s Peter- uh Spider-Man. I’ll be taking care of you tonight.”

That set off a fit of giggles from your friends which caused a full body flush from your waiter. His embarrassment tugged at your heartstrings. “New at this, Mr. Spider,” you asked.

His flush darkened and he rubbed absently at the back at his neck after he passed out the menus. “It’s Spider-Man,” he corrected you, “but is it that obvious?” You tilted your head and scrunched up your nose, parting your pointer and thumb a small ways apart. He laughed in return, his shoulders relaxing a little. You gave him a wink and a smile before the rest of your friends attacked the poor kid with their drink and food orders.

You felt sorry for the guy, but he seemed to have loosened up a bit since your small, playful banter and your friends ate up his boyish charm.

While you waited for your turn to order, you looked around the club to find its sleek design, not something you thought a strip club would offer. The walls were painted black, accented by silver framed posters of the dancers. Above each were white neon lights that spelt out their Hero name.

The rest of the booths were like your own, made of soft black cushions, black metal bases which were illuminated underneath by white light. The tables that sprang from the ground were polished silver necks with textured tempered glass tops to keep drink slipping and spilling to a minimum.

Of course, all of the booths surrounded the stage, which was mostly closed off by a thick black curtain, save for the large catwalk that split half of the sitting area in two. It was wide enough to fit three large men comfortably across it, shoulder to shoulder, and from some of the videos your group shared, they had done so before.

When Peter- there was no way you were going to refer to him by his Hero name- got to your order last, you could hear other rowdy groups start to file in. A couple of bachelorette parties, a girl’s 21st birthday, and a Happy Divorce Finalization Day were all joining you. Your friends quickly became friends with everyone in the room, so even if the show sucked, at least all of you could get drunk and have fun.

“Excuse me, ladies,” a voice rang out above you. Cheers burst from the crowd and every light in the room popped out and stayed out until the room fell silent. “Now that I have your attention…” A tall, dark man walked out from the split of the curtains. He wore a wireless microphone over his ear, an eyepatch over his eye which rested just above a self assured smile. Dressed in a fitted pair of leather pants and combat boots, he strode to the center crossroads of the stage and catwalk, “My name is Director Fury. I will be introducing you to your Heroes tonight.” He paused for another round of catcalls. “And hopefully we can save you from the Villains, too.” That drew out louder screams from the crowd.

“Now, what do we do to the bad girls like you,” he paused, looking pointedly to the crowd, “we contain,” he pulled a piece of rope from the back of his pants and tossed it into a group nearby, “detain,” he pulled out cuffs and twirled them around a finger before he threw those out as well, “and entertain.” With that, the bass dropped and the curtain flew open, behind Director Fury were the Heroes (and Villains) in all of their sweat slicked glory.

Once the Director stepped aside, the seven dancers on stage began their opening routine. Dressed in black vests and tear-away leather pants, the men paraded around the stage and catwalk to the thump of the music, pulling off pieces of their clothing as they went. The women around you went wild, snatching at whatever was tossed their way, fighting playfully for it. While it seemed incredibly silly, Tara was having the time of her life and you absently sipped at your Tequila Sunrise while you scrolled on your phone.

The dance number finished not two minutes later with a screaming cheer and standing ovation from the rest of the already slightly tipsy crowd. Director Fury came out while the dancers disappeared into the back to get ready, he worked the crowd, mentioning the brides-to-be and promised them a very special wedding gift before the night was over. “But I heard there were a couple of birthdays here,” Fury said, looking between your group and the one behind you. “Now, I’m going to get the young gun back there in a moment, but… a little bird told me that you,” he pointed to your friend, “are a very big fan of our first Hero of the night.”

Tara squealed and stood up, “Fuck yes, I am. God bless Captain America! ...and dat ass!”

It was obvious that Director Fury was trying to keep his composure, but the corners of his lips twitched like he wanted to join in on the laughter from the crowd. “Well, he is certainly blessed,” he replied, “and ladies, you will be, too, when you see him at full salute.” He winked and started to walk off stage, “Captain? Duty calls…”

Some sort of abomination of the Star Spangled Banner started to play, remixed with drum and bass. You looked up to see what kind of horror show would come from something treasonous as what bled from the speakers around you, you were met with over six feet of muscle covered in a fitted blue suit, fingerless leather gloves on his hands, and a round metal shield on his back painted red, white, and blue.

The Captain’s background was what looked like a large war ship with painted ski-masked bad guys spread throughout the levels. His stage allowed him ramps and poles to move up and down, which he used freely. He used a mixture of acrobatics and dance to move across the stage, tossing the shield around, “fighting off the bad guys” and losing his clothes in the process. By the end of the song he was left in just the leather gloves and a very tight pair of shorts, much like the ones Peter wore, except the Captains had the same pattern of his shield printed across the backside.

Tara’s screams knocked you out of your daze and you realized you hadn’t stared down at your phone at all during the Captain’s dance. You watched all five minutes of it and couldn’t tear your eyes away. Heroes wasn’t about getting drunk women horny, they wanted to put on a show, too. You clapped lightly, though it was drowned out by the cheering around you, but unbeknownst to you, it wasn’t unnoticed.

Fury was out once again and he brought up the first bachelorette of the night. He put her in a chair on the catwalk and gave her a candy-garterbelt. Then he asked her waiter, a guy named “Ant Man”, to remove it with only his tongue, which he happily obliged.

Peter cut off your view with another drink, one you didn’t order. “On the house,” he said with a lopsided grin and placed the red, white, and blue layered drink next to your nearly empty Sunrise. Before you could ask him who ordered it, the candy garterbelt was being tugged between the bachelorette and her waiter. It ended in a tongue-y kiss and the ladies went wild.

“Let’s hope her future husband doesn’t mind,” you muttered and turned your attention to your phone once again. Director Fury, thankfully, broke up the awkward scene on stage and began to introduce the next dancers. It was a pair, brothers, apparently, and they worked on the good versus bad troupe. Thor and Loki were opposites in every sense of the word. Thor was a large blond with a commanding presence. He had a bright smile and sun kissed skin that looked great in his red and gold trimmed briefs. But his brother was slender, graceful - almost cat-like, with dark hair and a mischievous grin all wrapped in flawless alabaster skin. They didn’t look like brothers, but they moved around each other like they had been together all of their lives, and knew each other’s moves.

You only caught half of their story, as you were already halfway done with, what you found out was called the American Glory drink, and half wondered if that was what Captain America tasted like. Fury was up again and had the young lady celebrating her 21st birthday take two shots and lick the salt from Thor and Loki’s still sweaty chests.

Peter found his way in front of you again and said that someone needed to talk to you about your card being declined. You frowned and excused yourself from your friends to find out what was going on. There shouldn’t have been a problem, you got paid the day before, there was plenty of money in your account.

You were taken to a hall that connected what seemed like offices, the dressing room, and the route to the backstage. “Sorry,” Peter said sheepishly, “they said this was the only way to get you back here. Gotta go.” He waved and jogged back out to the lobby.

Confused, you were about to shout out after him when you felt a tap on your shoulder. When you turned, you faced that wall of American muscle beaming down at you. “Hey there,” he greeted, a smile almost blinding you from its perfection. “Don’t be too mad at the kid, I asked him to get you back here.”

“What,” was all you could get out. He was thankfully dressed, but his muscles were straining against the white tshirt and the gym shorts did not hide the package he carried. Even with all of that, what mesmerized you most was his eyes, sparkling blue and bright with amusement.

“This next bit requires audience participation and he had someone in mind,” the Captain replied like he explained everything.

“We had someone in mind,” a voice corrected behind the door you two stood near. You tore your eyes away from the blond and eyed the wood barrier suspiciously.

“Don’t worry,” Captain America laughed, capturing your attention once again, “it’s nothing too dangerous or embarrassing. You just have to sit there, pretend to be tied up, and me and Buck will dance around you.” He put his hands on his hips and tilted his head in thought, “Well, actually, you really will be tied up, but we promise we’ll let you go once we’re done.”

“Or not, if you don’t want us to,” came the voice again, which made the Captain laugh.

You blinked up at him and frowned, “What’s the catch?”

“There’s no catch,” he shook his head. “We might dance on you a little, if you don’t mind, the crowd likes it. But if not, we can work around that.” The thought of Captain America in those tiny shorts grinding on you was a very nice thought.

“‘Sfine,” you shrugged.

He beamed and reached out to squeeze you on the shoulder, his touch lingering and his thumb running along your collarbone. “I’ll let the stage team know.” Reluctantly, he dropped his hand and knocked on the door next to you both, “Five minutes.” When he heard a ‘yeah, got it’, the Captain motioned you to follow him.

The stage crew took over and the Captain disappeared to get ready. You were told about the chair you’d be sitting in, the rope that would be tied around your chest and if you would be okay with it. There was some hesitation on your part, but ultimately you agreed. They brought you on stage, a winter wonderland of sorts and placed you on a log-like chair. The rope wasn’t tight, but it was obvious you were the damsel in distress.

“One of you was taken,” Director Fury said from the other side of the curtain in front of you, “by The Winter Soldat. Will she survive? Will she be saved?” All of the lights turn off once again and an industrial heavy beat thrummed through the speakers, rattling your bones. Red stage lights shone down on you when the curtain pulled open and your friends lost their minds.

To your right you saw a figure stalk out of the dark, red light bouncing off a silver metal arm. A mask covered the lower half of his face, but his eyes were trained on you like you were prey. His black muscle shirt clung tightly to his chest, one sleeve missing to show off his arm, and his black tactical pants stretched against his thick thighs. You could feel the shaking of the stage from the stomps of his booted feet.

Eyes wide, you stared at him until he stopped short of your chair on cue with the music. His nostrils flared lightly before he moved again, the music flowing with him. He slung one leg over the side over your chair, straddling you. The metal arm clamped the wooden back rest of the chair and he narrowed his gaze. Lights flash around you, strobing from red to white and back again until they settle on the house lights.

Soldat began to roll his body with the tempo, blue eyes locked with yours. You could hear the screams behind him as he dancing, but neither of you were paying attention.

His hips circled until he’s seated on your lap, you’re practically nose to nose. He brought his flesh hand to the side of your face and you could feel it trembling against your skin. With him that close you could hear him mutter in some other language that isn’t English, you’re guessing Russian, but you’re not sure. Either way, you felt crushed by his weight and you liked it. You didn't want him to go.

But the music changed and the lights started to flash again, red, white, and now blue mixed in. Captain America joined the two of you on stage and Soldat slipped from your lap. Just as Thor and Loki had before, these two moved around each other like they were made from the same mold.

During the fight, pieces of clothing were tossed aside and at one point you were freed from your bonds. Soldat pulled you up from your chair and up against his chest, your backside pressed so tightly against him you could almost feel his heartbeat. He moved you with him as he continued to fight the Captain.

Until seconds before the song ended and the music swelled, the Captain landed one good blow to Soldat and sandwiched you between them. The Winter Soldier recalibrated and recognized his old friend and you. He pulled the Captain into a big bear hug and then picked you up bridal style, taking you off stage with cheers from the crowd.

Once you’re all off stage, he sat you down with a hearty laugh. “You did a fantastic job, sweetheart,” the Soldier praised, running his metal hand through his chin length brown hair. “Couldn’t have asked for a better dance partner.” Flushed from embarrassment and arousal, you continued to stare at him until you were joined by the Captain. “I told you she’d be great, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, Buck, you know how to pick ‘em,” the blond agreed with a smile.

“Thanks,” you replied breathlessly, finally coming out of your stupor. “That was… fun. I’m just going to go back to my seat now, I guess.”

“Wait,” the one named “Buck” jumped to stop you, “we were wondering if you wanted a private show?” You heard about those from Tara. You knew that they were exclusive and very expensive… and sometimes had happy endings. They seemed to sense your hesitation because they both added in unison as they eyed you up like you were a four course meal, “For free.”

“I never turn down free anything,” you shrugged. The pair turned to look at each other and their smiles turned to wicked grins. You aren’t sure what you got yourself into, but you’re pretty sure you were going to enjoy it.

a/n: Part Two coming soon... with smut!

#bucky barnes x reader x steve rogers #bucky barnes x you x steve rogers #bucky barnes x y/n x steve rogers #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #steve rogers x you x bucky barnes #steve rogers x y/n x bucky barnes #stucky x reader #stucky x you #stucky x y/n #stripper!bucky barnes #stripper!steve rogers #stripper!au #heroes au

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minecraft-sideblog-tm · 2 years ago

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Rambly build project post!

Been renovating one of the nearby villages lately! This all stemmed from the realization that I’d made too many new villagers here and it looked so cluttered having like 2 or 3 beds in all of the houses and workplace buildings plus random workstations just placed wherever I had put them.

At first I was only planning to add a few more default houses, then look up references for the normal plains village workplace buildings and make the ones I needed verbatim, but changed my mind. It’s still a work in progress, but:

(Before, all I’d really done was fix up the paths)

(After!)

Instead I ended up swapping the block palette, and I’m building custom workplaces because I just really don’t feel like having to look them all up and then copy the buildings. This is more fun anyway. Somehow it just feels a lot more lively now! And you can bet the second that hanging signs are in the game, I’ll be placing them everywhere in this village lol

More rambling and pictures under the cut!

So far I’ve changed the block palette, added 5 of the 5x5 houses (soon to be 6 because I left my bed on the ground too long and they made another villager.... lol), one of the double-door houses, a train depot kinda thing, and two custom workplace buildings (for a fletcher and a cartographer). Also expanded the existing library a little to fit the two lecterns I needed and some bookshelves

Still a work in progress though, because I need to make the aforementioned extra house and a building each for the weaponsmiths, butchers, cleric, shepherds, and mason. I’ve added....many villagers to this village.... Enough so that while mining nearby one day and waiting for a new villager to grow up, two iron golems spawned in it (I may or may not have killed the original one a long time ago...)

Also hanging glowberries from chains to look like hanging basket plants is something I learned recently from a youtube video and I am obsessed with it

I actually renovated a smaller village first; it’s about equidistant from spawn to this one but in the other direction. It only generated with one villager, a nitwit, and only had 5 buildings, so I thought it’d be a nice test run for changing out a block palette.

However, in the small village I used a block palette that’s mostly the usual oak and cobblestone with some dark oak added in since it’s very close to a dark oak forest, and a little deepslate.

In this village I chose to mostly use oak and birch, as it’s near a regular forest, plus lots of deepslate and copper. The idea was like since this is a much larger, more established village, maybe it’d make sense for them to have more building materials that require mining than a little town of one villager would. Used a little dark oak for accents though since there are two dark oak forests in a reasonable distance to say it could have been carried back to the village, and I swear I am so incredibly normal about my minecraft build projects

*ahem*

anyway, bonus screenshots of the other little village.

I guess I did use a tiny bit of copper here too. I lowkey call this village like Floaty Rock, or Floating Rock or something because of those few blocks in the sky on the top right that just naturally generated there lol. It’s how I used to remember where this village was when I first found it because you can almost see those from spawn

the nitwit lives in the house on the far right here, away from the other 3 houses, and I mean it when I say he’s literally the only villager that ever generated here. Just a dude living his life I guess. Good for him

#i started this world in 2021 for the sole purpose of getting a few achievements #that would unlock certain wearable things from the minecraft marketplace #since I couldn't earn them from the server I played on #And I had no intention of doing literally anything else with this world #and yet here we are lmao #funny how that works #lee speaks #minecraft #stuff i built #sorry this post is so long I just have lots of thoughts

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trashyswitch · 4 years ago

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The Strange Flower

Logan and Roman take a walk in the imagination. Not long after, Logan is plagued with the giggles and phantom feelings! What ever could they be from?! Whatever it is, Roman is loving it!

I'm gonna be gone to the cottage for a week starting today. So, I'll be working on fanfics a little, but less than usual. It's a vacation!! I'm actually really excited!

This fanfic prompt came from @little-lee-lo-simp. Thank you so much for the prompt and I hope you enjoy the fanfic.

These are the morning Giggles:

Logan was walking around with Roman in the imagination, admiring the many flowers and trees surrounding them. There were so many colors! And so many different fruits and things hidden within the trees! From creatures to vines and flowers, it was beautiful.

There were poppies with smiley faces on them, different fruits that were covered in ‘paint splash’ syrup, there were lettuce bits that could be fresh, sweet or crunchy depending on your preference, and there were banana-shaped fruits that had edible skins and pomegranate-like seeds in the middle of the fruit.

There were vines covered in pickable sticks that were edible and used for healing purposes, and twisty flowers that had yarn-textured petals yet, were still real and growing on their own. There were thick leaves that held different-colored inks in them that could be used for mixing and writing, and there were thin large leaves that could be written on like paper without ripping when written on with a stick.

Many flowers looked like they were squirting different things. One flower had honey running down the stem. They were labelled ‘Buzzy suckles’, a wordplay of honey suckles. There were even different colored roses that looked like they were splashed with layers of watercolors. Red, yellow, purple, pink, they all covered the roses in a drippy paint-like pattern.

Logan smiled as he knelt down to look closer at the small cluster of roses. “These are beautiful, Roman.” Logan reacted calmly, filled with awe and delight.

Roman smiled at the complement. But when he looked upon the flowers that Logan was looking at, Roman tilted his head in thought. He...didn’t remember what he had called those specific flowers. Obviously they were a type of roses, but he liked to give them a spinney, cute kinda name to go with them. But...Roman had forgotten this particular cute name.

But he most certainly remembered how beautiful they were! “Thank you!” Roman replied.

Logan picked one of the roses and put it behind Roman’s ear. Roman giggled at this and wore the rose with confidence and pride. The flower started blooming little sticks that had...rectangular flags on them? And they had the gay flag on each one of them!

“Awww, it knows you’re gay!” Logan reacted.

“Yup! This flower can specifically tell what sexuallity you are. If you were straight, you’d have a straight flag. If you were pan, you had a pan flag. If you identified as multiple things…” Roman looked at the flower and pointed to hated multiple Gay pride flags that popped out. “Each of these flags would be different, to identify what kind of person you are.” Roman explained. “And if you’re more than 3…” Roman poked it and watched as a single LGBT flag poked out. “The LGBT community flag will pop out, specifying anything!” Roman explained.

“I love it!” Logan reacted.

“You can also use this flower to find out what you are in a few seconds.” Roman added.

“But it still has the usual sexuality journey, right?” Logan asked. “Cause everyone needs a journey.”

“Yup!” Roman replied proudly.

Logan continued to look around at the different varieties of flowers and plants that filled the imagination. There were even weeds that looked surprisingly pretty! A few of the weeds had pretty leaves and pretty flowers that were hidden within it. Even the dandelions were nicer to look at. They were more of an orangey yellow color, and were slightly bigger than the usual dandelions.

But in a specific spot: a small field of these strange flowers had been planted. They were blue flowers that looked a lot like Morning Glories. But...they resembled a heavenly blue version, and had a very visibly yellow middle. “Wow..I’m gonna head over here.” Logan decided.

Roman didn’t think much of it. “Okay.”

Logan walked to the blue and yellow flowers, and laid down inside the flowers’ fields. They looked so pretty...and very detailed when he looked closer at them. They had these dark green leaves that extended out of the stem. The flowers actually looked like they were dancing in the wind like Groot did in Guardians of the Galaxy. It looked really cute. It also seemed to be spirting out tiny bits of pollen. Logan tilted his head and placed a finger closer to the pollen. It was yellow looking, like all pollens were, and looked fuzzy.

Strange...

Logan got up and walked away from the pretty flowers a little while after. He dusted off his fingers on his shirt and pants to get rid of the pollen and walked to Roman.

“You have some really pretty flower and plant ideas. I love them!” Logan reacted.

Roman smiled eagerly. “Thank you! I worked really hard to make sure every single one of my flowers were distinctive and different in their own way.” Roman declared proudly. “Now: Cherry?” Roman asked, holding up a black cherry to him.

Logan smiled and took it. “Thank you, Roman!”

The two boys walked themselves out of the imagination and back into Thomas’s house. Logan was feeling a bit of an itchy feeling, but he didn’t think much of it. He just kept scratching it and continuing with his day. But soon the itchy feeling turned tickly. And it started spreading.

Logan attempted to ignore the feeling and hid his smile, but it felt like a single finger was scratching at one side each. It was distracting and made him wanna tense up. Soon, the feeling moved to his ribs. It felt like poking and wiggling in between his ribs. Logan could barely hide his smile without looking like a doofus that was trying not to laugh at a stupid joke. Logan looked away from Roman in an attempt to cover it up. But Roman could tell something was up.

“Logan...What are you smiling about?” Roman asked. “Are the smiley flowers making you smile?” Roman asked, referring to purple poppy’s that had a smiley face on each petal.

Logan shook his head and hummed ‘no’.

“Huh...I thought that may have been it. What’s making you smile, Logey Bee?” Roman asked. Logan accidentally let a giggle slip at the weird and strangely cute nickname. “Ooooh, you’re a giggly bee! I see now!” Roman declared. “What’s making you so giggly?” Roman asked.

Logan shook his head and couldn’t stop the giggles that left his mouth more and more. That’s a good question! What IS making him so giggly? He’s never like this!

“Iiiiis it a funny joke?” Roman asked. “Hey I’ve got one for you:” Roman cleared his throat. “What do dentists call their X-Rays?” Roman asked.

Logan frantically shook his head. Even if it wasn’t funny, any amount of jokes is gonna worsen his giggles!

“Tooth Pics! Dentists call X-Rays tooth pics!” Roman declared proudly.

Logan squeezed his eyes shut. That was a bad one...An obvious joke- “Hehehehehehehe!” Logan giggled. SHIT!

Roman gasped. “PATTON! PATTON, I MADE LOGAN LAUGH AT A JOKE!” Roman shouted. “YESSS!”

Logan growled through is giggles. “Nohohohohoho! Stahahap ihihihit!” Logan begged. Logan covered his belly as his inner stomach was attacked with the strangest phantom tickles he’s ever felt in his life. “Thahahahat tihihihicklehehehes!” Logan giggled, nearly falling over. He was beginning to lose his balance.

“Tickles? What tickles?” Roman asked, getting closer. “Does your belly tickle? Maybe your sides? Or your neck?” Roman asked.

That word was enough to throw Logan into full on laughter, mixed with giggles in between. “HAhahahahahaha! Rohohohomahahahan whahahat dihihihid yohohou puhuhuhut ihin yohohour flohohohowehehers?” Logan asked.

“Well that depends. The smiley Poppy makes you smile uncontrollably. The blue and red Mushrooms make you overly hyper. The morning Giggles make you- Ooooooh…” Roman turned to Logan. “Did you cover yourself in the pollen from the Morning Glory flowers? You silly, giggly goose!” Roman teased. “Those are called Morning Giggles! They make you giggle and laugh through means of tickling and softly teasing your ticklish spots!” Roman declared.

Well, that seemed to be the most conclusive answer.

“But when did you get in contact with the morning giggles? You never struck out on your own until the end- Oooooooh…” Roman smirked and leaned into his ear. “You brought this upon yourself, Giggle berry~” Roman teased.

You could say that again...He really did get himself into this. But why didn’t he warn him!

“If I had known you were gonna look at the morning giggles, I would’ve warned you! But nope! Telling by the spot you’re holding so tensely, it looks like you decided to lay on your poor, ticklish belly to admire the beautiful, giggle blooms!” Roman declared. “Does that sound about right?” Roman asked.

Logan finally kneeled over and flopped onto his side with laughter. With his feet free, Logan started kicking and squirming on the ground, unable to contain any of it. The pollen was tickling everything it touched. His belly, his thighs, his nose, his neck, his abs, his feet, the tops of his feet, even his armpits were partly covered in ticklish pollen! It felt like the pollen bits were jumping around and snuggling into Logan’s ticklish spots on his body! Even his hands were being tickled by the micro-sized pollen bits! What a strange conundrum!

To make things even worse, Roman’s teases were flustering him beyond saving. Logan was practically the color of a strawberry! How dare!

“Aww! Listen to that sweet little laugh! It’s so fun and cute!”

“You should laugh more often, Logan. It suits you! And you of all people know, laughter is very good for you!” Roman teased.

Logan covered his face and cowered into the fetal position.

“Where is my camera? I need to get a picture of this. Or maybe even a video! Or 5!”

Logan whimpered and whined. “SHUHUHUT UHUHUP!” Logan ordered.

“Are you whimpering now? You be careful doing that! Patton just might think there’s a puppy in this house!”

Logan whimpered again and covered his mouth. Just about every part of Logan’s front side was being tickled by the bits of pollen. It was so much tickling at once.

“HEHEHEHELP MEHEHEHEHEHEHE!” Logan begged.

“Hmmmmmm...Maybe in a bit. I wanna enjoy this for a little longer! Then I’ll dust you off!” Roman decided. “How’s that?”

Logan whined and groaned. “FIHIHINE…”

Logan handled the tickling for a little longer, despite his want for it to stop. It was getting to be too much light tickles for him to handle. “Ihihihit’s soho lihihihihight!” Logan reacted.

“Ohh! Do you want more? Does the blueberry Logan bean want the stronger tickle tickle tickles?” Roman asked politely.

“Yehehehes plehehehehease!” Logan begged.

Roman nodded. “Your wish is my command, your royal blueness!” Roman grabbed Logan’s hand and started tickling his palm.

Logan’s laughter TRIPLED in volume! “OHOHOHOHO NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! AAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Logan screamed!

“WHOA! Okay! What’s up with you?! You sound like you’re gonna rip a vocal cord if you keep screaming like that!” Roman reacted.

Logan cackled and laughed hysterically as his hand was attacked by Roman’s hand. His hand was moving the pollen around, which only made it tickle even more! And the pollen in Logan’s armpit was more free to move around, making the pollen tickle much worse in that spot too! There was just so much tickling!

Not that Logan minded, of course…

Logan squeaked, squealed, cackled and snorted through the whole thing. “OHOHOKAHAHAHAY, OHOHOKAHAHAHAHAHAY! EHEHENOHOHOUGH! IHIHI CAHAHAHAHAHA!” Logan couldn’t even get some of his words out properly at this point.

That was when Roman realized he should probably stop. Roman let go of his palm and placed it down. Then, Roman summoned a big broom-like paintbrush and brushed off the pollen. Though the pollen did end up coming off (Which lessened the tickling), the brush itself tickled as well. Even with the shirt and the pants on, it tickled! Logan giggled and squirmed around as Roman brushed the pollen off his poor body.

Roman soon stopped and looked at Logan. “Alright. I have a new plan.” He decided. “Let’s get you into a shower to let the pollen wash off you.” Roman decided.

Logan nodded as he held his belly somewhat lightly. Roman walked to the shower, started it up, checked the water, and left the bathroom so Logan could get in.

30 minutes later:

Roman was playing a game on his iPad when Logan walked in with his hair somewhat wet, and his body in new, yet identical clothes. Logan had a small smile on his face. “That was quite the ordeal.” Logan admitted.

Roman giggled. “I’ll say. I guess you gotta keep in mind the morning giggles from now on. And some of the other ones I mentioned.” Roman added.

Logan sighed and looked at him with a serious face. “I have another idea:” Logan picked up a sign that said ‘Morning Giggles: Pollen makes you laugh’ on it. “How about placing signs in front of the plants?” Logan asked.

Roman nodded and took the sign he made. “Thank you Logan. That’s a better idea than I could’ve come up with!” Roman reacted.

“No problem.” Logan replied. “Though I will say…” Roman turned to face Logan as he continued. “I would consider laying in the morning glories- giggles again.” Logan admitted.

Roman bursted out laughing at that. “Yohohou know you can just ask people to tickle you, right?” Roman added.

“Yes, I am aware of that. But doing that would ruin my image. I would much prefer there being an uncontrollable reason to my giggles and laughter.” Logan explained.

“Okay. Suit yourself.” Roman replied, sneaking a poke to both sides.

Logan jumped and shot a wobbly glare at him. This just made Roman laugh at him more.

Roman’s imagination is filled with thousands of different flowers. But only one flower’s pollen can make the most monotone person laugh beyond their years:

The Morning Giggles.

#the imagination #flowers #tooth rotting fluff #ticklefic #lee!logan #ler!flower #ler!roman (kinda)

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hiccanna-tidbits · 4 years ago

Photo

So I woke up at 4 am last night and my brain went “What if Jackunzel...but sapphic???”

aND HERE WE ARE

Also look, yes, I know Jackie/Jacquelyn Frost is the go-to when it comes to fem!Jack Frost names, but I just...didn’t think it suited her??? I wanted something a bit more unique, and I liked the sound of Jaina! And then I got very inspired and wrote a ficlet, so ENJOY SOME LESBIAN JACKUNZEL

DON’T TELL ME THEY WOULDN’T BE THE PUREST FUCKING SAPPHICS YOU’VE EVER SEEN IN ALL YOUR LIFE

The first time Rapunzel met Jaina Frost, she asked her if she was a fairy.

She certainly looked like one of the winged creatures from Rapunzel’s storybooks. She floated just off the ground and could flit around the room quicker than a hummingbird. Her hair whipped around her in long white tendrils, thick waves like hills of freshly-fallen snow. It shone like it, too--nearly blindingly when the sun hit it, Rapunzel noticed.

She could ice up the entire floor with one sweep of her staff and would whoop and cheer and laugh so hard she snorted when she slid around on it on her bare feet. All behavior Mother would find very undignified, Rapunzel was sure.

Not that Jaina had ever cared in the least about dignity.

She’d nearly fallen out of the tower window when she first saw Rapunzel poised to hit her with a frying pan. Her next reactions had been even stranger--hooting and doing flips and jumping around because apparently, people didn’t normally see her.

It was nice to have a friend. Mother hadn’t warned Rapunzel off of other girls, although Rapunzel was certain that in practice she wouldn’t approve of them. Not that it mattered. They quickly found that Jaina was as invisible to Gothel as she apparently was to everyone else.

Perhaps it was selfish, but Rapunzel liked that. She had Jaina Frost all to herself.

Jaina gasped in horror when she heard Rapunzel had never touched snow. Her hammy overreaction only got more and more ridiculous as Rapunzel explained she had only ever seen winter from the confines of her tower--and Mother usually shut the window to keep the cold out, anyhow. Jaina clutched her heart at this, pretending to faint in her despair.

“Well, if you won’t just leave and go outside, like I keep telling you you should...” Jaina crossed spindly arms and glared at Rapunzel. “I guess I’ll have to bring the winter to you.”

And bring it she does. When Mother won’t be back until evening, Jaina swirls together soft, cotton clouds and makes it snow in Rapunzel’s room. They make snow angels on the floorboards and toss snowballs at one another from behind dressers and wardrobes and chairs, giggling all the while. Rapunzel’s decided she’s going to blame any water stains left behind on some kind of flooding.

Mother won’t be mad over that sort of thing. She’ll just fuss over her and breathe a sigh of relief when Rapunzel can still sing as beautifully as ever.

When Rapunzel’s birthday rolls around, she confides to Jaina about the floating lights. She’s pushing 18, and she still hasn’t left the tower. Jaina fixes her with a catlike smirk, and turns away.

When she sweeps her hands back, she’s holding some kind of ice-blue cylinder, made of swirling crystals and snow with a crescent moon etched on the side.

“They’re lanterns,” Jaina explains. “The kingdom does a festival with them every summer. I’ve flown over it plenty of times. I could...”

Jaina looks away, and Rapunzel could swear she sees her friend’s cheeks go a little pink.

“I could take you. You know. If you wanted.”

Rapunzel shakes her head. “I can’t. You know Mother would...”

Jaina groans and rolls her eyes. “You’re really way too beholden to that woman, Rae. But if you insist on staying...I might be able to do something almost as good.”

And so they sit on Rapunzel’s windowsill, legs dangling over the side (Jaina can catch Rapunzel if she falls), and Jaina Frost puts on a show. She makes dozens of frozen lanterns and whisks them into the sky, and they float and bobble and catch first the dying rays of the sunset and then the soft silver of moonlight.

Rapunzel’s never seen something so beautiful in all her life.

She glances over at Jaina once, and she’s looking at the blonde girl like she sprinkled all the stars across the night sky the same way she dappled them onto her tower walls. Jaina looks away almost immediately, face reddening.

After a while, Jaina takes to spending the night. It was by accident the first time--the girls were up late having stupid pillowfights and telling each other stories in Rapunzel’s bed, and at some point they both started to yawn.

Before she knew it, Rapunzel was waking up with a faceful of white waves smelling vaguely of wintergreen, cedarwood, and cashmere sweaters. Her arms were curled around a thin, sleek waist, and she felt her heart speed up tenfold.

She had no idea why being so very close to her best friend was making her incredibly nervous, but here she was.

It’s the first of many nights they’ll wake up wrapped up in each other. Always, they claim, by accident--but neither ever seem to mind.

It becomes a routine of sorts. Rapunzel wakes up early and untangles herself before she has to give too much thought to the nervous sweat that nearly breaks out at every point of contact. She tries to get Jaina up too to help with morning chores, and Jaina rolls onto her stomach with her face in the pillow and whines and bitches and moans until Rapunzel relents and lets her sleep for 10 more minutes.

As she sweeps the floor, Rapunzel tries not to think too hard about the placid expression on Jaina’s face as she sleeps. As she mops, she tries not to think too hard about the way Jaina’s face scrunches up when she’s having a nightmare, and the way it makes Rapunzel want to wrap herself around the other girl like a protective shell. As she polishes the staircase banister, she tries not to think too hard about the way Jaina’s eyes shine like sunlight on icicles when her entire face erupts into a grin.

It’s probably peculiar, thinking about your best friend in such excessive detail.

Two years pass, and Rapunzel is pushing 20. When she looks in the mirror, she notices nothing seems to be changing. She doesn’t look any older than when she first met Jaina. Maybe the changes are just too imperceptible for her to notice, but 17-year-old Rapunzel seems to be stuck in a kind of limbo.

She wonders if it has anything to do with her magic glowing hair--the hair that makes her mother’s wrinkles disappear whenever she sings a special song.

She knows it should alarm her, not aging. Instead, she feels a strange kind of relief. There are worse things than being stuck as the same age as Jaina Frost.

There are worse things than not having to grow old and leave Jaina behind.

They’re lying in Rapunzel’s bed one afternoon, the blonde girl sprawled on top of Jaina to carefully brush on eyeshadow. It’s an elaborate picture--a beautiful deep twilight blue sprinkled with intricate snowflakes and rimmed with glittery white snow.

Rapunzel is the only one who will ever see it, but they’re both all right with that.

The eyeshadow is long done by now, Rapunzel getting carried away painting snowflakes and icicles and tiny pine trees on snowbanks dancing across Jaina’s cheeks and forehead. She smiles proudly and holds up a hand mirror. Jaina just snorts.

“You’re going to make me look like a clown, Rae.”

“Hmmmm.” Rapunzel puts the mirror down and continues adding a gleam to a white icicle on Jaina’s temple. “A very pretty clown.”

“You...think I’m pretty?”

Jaina’s gaze turns oddly serious. The timid way she asks it is unlike her.

Rapunzel stops, frowning. “I mean...yes. I always have.”

“Why?” Jaina wrinkles her nose. “I’m a mess. My hair’s always all over the place, and I can’t keep a room clean to save my life. All I can do is make ice, blow cold wind around, and leave a fucking wreck wherever I go. Why would you think I was...?”

“Jaina! Language!” Jaina just rolls her eyes.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit.” Rapunzel smiles again. “These have been the most fun years of my life, thanks to you. You stuck around here with me, even when you have the whole world to explore, and I can’t even imagine how boring it must seem in this tower. That’s worth more than you know. And for the record, I think you’re gorgeous.”

Jaina’s cheeks turn redder than chrysanthemums, standing out starkly against her pale skin. “Oh, stop it,” she mumbles. “I look like a gremlin next to you. World’s nicest hair, flawless skin, the face of some kind of Greek goddess or something. You’re a knockout. I couldn’t even hope to measure up.”

“You...think I’m a knockout?” Rapunzel feels a blush of her own coming on.

“Well, yeah.” Jaina smirks. “I thought it went without saying.”

“Nothing really ‘goes without saying’ when you’ve only ever met two people,” Rapunzel points out.

“I guess.” Jaina shrugs. “I forget you don’t have a huge frame of reference. But trust me, ask anyone from that kingdom on the other side of the forest and they’d say you’re really attractive. I doubt any passing knight on a steed would be able to resist you, if they saw your hair hanging out the window like some...cascading sunshine waterfall.”

Rapunzel bit her lip, feeling unsettled by the thought of men on horseback finding her tower. She’d never met a member of the male gender before, and she hadn’t exactly heard good things.

“I don’t know if I want that,” she admits.

“I don’t blame you,” Jaina says. “Half of them are stuffy, arrogant pricks, anyways. Or they’re so sappy and poetic it kind of makes you want to throw up.”

Rapunzel bites her lip, feeling nothing but mild discomfort at the thought of a strange man trying to serenade her. Maybe it wasn’t fair to rule out what she didn’t know, but...

“No, I mean. I don’t know if I want men. Like...at all.”

“Oh. Oh.” A hopeful gleam swims into Jaina’s ice-colored eyes. Tiny, almost imperceptible, but there.

“Wise choice, honestly,” she says nonchalantly. “Even being invisible, I haven’t met many I actually cared to know. I think I’d much rather be here with you.”

Rapunzel wonders if Jaina would feel the same if any men could see her. She wonders if Jaina would still choose her company if some free-spirited, energetic boy was able to see the frost sprite, and wrote her beautiful sonnets about her moon-white hair. Some boy not stuck in a tower with an overbearing mother, some boy who couldn’t hold her back.

The thought fills Rapunzel with an unexpectedly bitter wave of jealousy.

She shakes it off, reaching into the makeup kit beside her and feeling around until her fingers curl around a tube of lipstick. She smiles, pulling it out.

Jaina groans in mock annoyance. “Are we still doing this? Aren’t I going to look ridiculous?”

“Not at all.” Rapunzel uncaps the lipstick and gently slides it across Jaina’s mouth.

The blonde girl leans back and admires her handiwork. She holds the mirror up to Jaina again.

Her lips are a bright, icy blue, like the glaciers Rapunzel can only ever hope to know through the pictures in her books. Slowly, Jaina smiles.

“You look like you could deliver the kiss of death,” Rapunzel teases. “Freeze your true love on the spot instead of awakening them from eternal slumber.”

“Want to test that out?”

Jaina smirks, voice surprisingly bold. Rapunzel can’t help but notice the pink rushing to her friend’s cheeks, though, despite her best attempts to sound casual.

“Huh?” Rapunzel frowns down at her, confused.

Jaina’s smirk shrinks a little, the first traces of fear darting into her eyes.

“Only one way to figure out whether I actually carry the kiss of death.” Jaina shrugs, still trying to seen nonchalant but voice not nearly as confident as before.

“Ah.” Rapunzel smiles playfully. “But if it works, you’ll have to find a new best friend, won’t you? Sounds like a lot of trouble for you.”

“That’s okay, Pascal will just be my new best friend if I kiss you to an early grave!” The chameleon squeaks disapprovingly from the dresser nearby.

“Come on, Rae,” Jaina says. “I really have to know. The curiosity’s killing me here.”

Rapunzel can feel Jaina’s breaths against her own chest, quick and shallow. Scared, almost.

Jaina is a lot more nervous than she’s letting on.

Still, looking down at the curve of Jaina’s lips and the unfailingly cheeky gleam in her eyes, everything suddenly feels just right.

Rapunzel slides her arms onto either side of Jaina’s head. She leans down, and captures Jaina’s lips with her own.

She tastes cold and sweet--like frosty vanilla and mint chocolate chip ice cream. Her lips aren’t perfect--chapped in places, pricked with tiny ice crystals, moving with a sort of nervous frenzy that comes with disuse.

Nonetheless, they feel like home.

Rapunzel slides her fingers into white hair, and it’s silky like clouds. So soft. So perfect.

The only real thought Rapunzel can process is that she never wants to let go. Perhaps part of her is terrified if she does, Jaina will dissolve into the ghost she is to everyone else.

She feels Jaina wrap her hands around the collar of Rapunzel’s dress, pulling her closer. It’s more comforting than Jaina knows.

Jaina pulls away first, hands loosening and head tilting back. She meets Rapunzel’s eyes for a few moments, processing what just happened before breaking out in an enormous grin and a series of delighted giggles.

“You just--you look so dumb,” Jaina chortles. “Like you tried to eat the sky or something.”

Rapunzel glances into the hand mirror, now long since pushed aside. Her mouth is smeared with bright blue, trailing onto her skin in pale smudges.

She smiles. “I can live with that.”

Rapunzel leans down and kisses Jaina again.

Yes I used that one picture of the girl straddling the other girl while putting her makeup on for inspiration for this, what of it???

Also for whatever reason, I love the idea of Fem!Jack calling Rapunzel Rae? I feel like Fem!Jack’s teasing and pet names would be a tiny bit different than boy Jack’s, idk.

I JUST AKSJCUBWSYD

I KINDA WANNA DO MORE FEM!JACK X RAPUNZEL CONTENT

Pic credits available upon request!

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lettheladylead · 4 years ago

Text

Not Your Aunt

Chapter 2: Della [ao3 link]

She didn’t trust the lady. Not for one second. Not for one teeny tiny eenie meenie little extra small second!

Not when Uncle Scrooge would always come home looking like he wanted to cry or scream and he’d mutter Goldie’s name under his breath and then lock himself in his room for the rest of the day. Visiting him was supposed to be exciting and cool and fun and if they had the terrible timing of coming by right after Goldie, then the trip was basically pointless.

Not that she wasn’t also sad to see her uncle sad! That also sucked a lot.

Last time they’d seen Goldie, she’d stolen their map and left them behind in some woods in the middle of Iraq. Sure, she’d oddly left them a clue to help get into the ziggurat safely, but that didn’t make up for the betrayal of stealing their stuff! And Donald was so sour about it for days and days. He really thought it was his fault, as if Miss O’Gilt wasn’t always stealing and leaving. It was pretty much her whole thing.

She tried to convince him that but he just grumbled and sighed about it. He was really hung up on how he called her “Aunt Goldie” when she’d told him not to. So what? They always did things adults told them not to do. It didn’t usually make them run away like little babies. And Della was confident that that wasn’t the reason why Goldie left them behind - not like the lady needed a reason, she clearly just did it for fun - so she knew she’d have to convince Donald of that so he’d stop being so mopey.

Conveniently, Goldie visited the manor again only a few months later. They were at the dinner table with Duckworth when they heard a suspicious sound coming from upstairs. Uncle Scrooge and Duckworth made eye contact and then started walking towards the stairs, so Della and Donald followed out of curiosity.

As they reached the source of the sound, which started as some kind of stomping but had turned into maybe a sliding? And Della could’ve sworn she heard a groan? Anyway, Duckworth opened the door and Uncle Scrooge peeked into the room for a half-second before suddenly shouting “GOLDIE?!” and running in.

Duckworth followed him, but Donald and Della stayed at the door and just looked inside. They could see Goldie was on the floor and Scrooge was some mixture of tending to her and yelling at her because, and Della wasn’t yet an expert on this but she’d had some experiences, there was definitely a pool of blood underneath her. Goldie muttered something and Scrooge muttered something back but neither she nor Donald could understand what they were talking about.

The twins made eye contact, silently agreeing to head inside, when Duckworth suddenly exited the room and closed the door behind him, leaving them out.

“You two should go finish your dinner.”

“What? But what about…” Della motioned towards the door.

“Ah, he’s right, Della,” Donald muttered softly, accepting defeat too easily for Della’s liking. “It’s not like we can help.” He started to walk away, looking just as bummed as he had been for the past few weeks.

Della pouted and thought about how she was hoping to improve Donald’s mood when Goldie returned, but of course the old lady had to make it more complicated than it needed to be. As Duckworth gently pushed them towards the stairs, she turned her head and looked up at him. “Is Aunt Goldie okay?”

Duckworth raised an eyebrow at her and decided not to comment on the name. “Goldie O’Gilt is harder to kill than a cockroach. She’ll be just fine.”

The kids chuckled at his comparison and rushed back down to eat. As soon as the kids were gone, Duckworth sighed and walked towards the bathroom, knowing he could find one of their First Aid kits in there.

The rest of their meal was quick, both kids just wanted to finish so they could go back upstairs and find out what happened to Goldie.

“I’ll bet she was fighting a sea serpent over a single gold doubloon and it just completely tore her arm off!”

“No way! She probably got into a back alley knife fight when she tried to rob a guy that was too tough to rob.”

“Oooh, or maybe she was making her way through an ancient tomb when all the traps went off and she’s just got a ton of arrows poking out of her, leaking her blood all over the floor and the side of the mansion while she climbed up the wall!”

“Ew, Dumbella! That’s so gross!”

“How is that grosser than her arm getting torn off?!”

“I dunno, it just is!”

They argued over Goldie’s potential source of injury for a few minutes as they finished their food. As they agreed to head upstairs, Uncle Scrooge came down and plopped himself and his cane right in the entranceway so they couldn’t leave.

“Kids. I’m sure you saw that Goldie’s here.”

“Yeah, kinda hard to miss,” Della said with an eyeroll. “Did she steal anything from you yet?”

Scrooge blew out some air and tapped his fingers at the top of his cane. “Not yet. And yes, she probably will. But...it might be a few days.”

Donald and Della looked at each other incredulously. “Days? Like...more than one?”

“Probably at least a week.”

“Wait, what?” Donald stepped towards his uncle, looking concerned. “Is she, like...actually really badly hurt? What happened?”

Scrooge looked up towards the second floor when he thought he heard a noise before sighing and looking back down at the kids. “She hasn’t given me all the details, but she’s...she’s not in the best shape. She’ll need a few days to recover.”

Della was already thinking back to her guesses for Goldie’s injuries. She’d been kidding before, but maybe she wasn’t too far off?

“You two don’t need to do anything, Duckworth and I can take care of her just fine,” Scrooge said softly. “But we might need to postpone our trip to Svalbard until she’s better.”

“Boo!” Della whined. “Aunt Goldie ruins yet another adventure! Can’t we just leave her here with Duckworth?”

Scrooge’s eyes widened and he sputtered a bit at her words. “I-I, um...no, she’s...what?”

“C’mon, Della, it’s just another week,” Donald commented, not noticing his uncle’s discomfort. “Uncle Scrooge probably wants to make sure she doesn’t steal anything while we’re gone.”

“Um...right,” Scrooge muttered, still not over what he just heard. He remembered Donald referring to her as ‘aunt’ the last time they’d seen her, but he kind of thought that was just an odd little one-time thing. Now if Della started doing it, too, then he didn’t know how to handle that. Goldie would absolutely lose her mind if she found out. “You two shouldn’t bother her so just stay away from the guest room two doors down from mine.”

The kids shared a look before looking back up at their uncle simultaneously. “Okay, Uncle Scrooge!”

As Scrooge nodded and walked away, seemingly headed towards his office, Della and Donald quickly rushed towards the stairs so they could go bother their new houseguest.

They peeked into the room together and saw the mess of blonde hair strewn across the pillows. Goldie definitely looked like she was asleep, which was very disappointing, but they decided to walk into the room anyway and see if she was just faking.

She didn’t react to them coming closer. Della leaned towards her brother and whispered, “She’s sneaky and sharp, right? So she probably knows we’re here even if she’s asleep!”

“That doesn’t make a lot of sense,” Donald whispered back. “Look at her arm! She’s probably just really tired and hurt.”

Della followed his pointer finger and saw that there were bandages all over Goldie’s right arm - from her wrist up past her elbow. Clearly she’d been pretty badly hurt from something and Della desperately wanted to know what it was. She took a deep breath and walked the rest of the way towards her bed, ignoring Donald’s shocked protest behind her.

“...are you awake?” Della asked quietly, not sure how she should approach this.

Goldie didn’t respond, which just made Della pout.

“Aunt Goldie!” she said suddenly, at slightly-higher-than-normal volume. “What happened to your arm?!”

That time, Goldie’s eyes were wide open, but she was simply staring up at the ceiling and taking deep breaths. Donald noticed and joined his sister at the older woman’s bedside.

Another few seconds passed and Goldie closed her eyes again. Della wondered if she thought they were just a nightmare she was having. Well, that wouldn’t do.

“Aunt Gooooldie!” Della smacked her little hands against the top of the bed. “Did you get bitten by a shark? Or stabbed by a guy on the street? Or shot by a laser?”

“Or did you fall from a tower in the sky and land on your arm and it got all gross and beat up?” Donald added, feeling his sister’s contagious enthusiasm.

Goldie groaned and opened her eyes again, clearly wishing the kids weren’t really there. “Is there any way for me to get you two to go away?”

They just smiled at her innocently.

“...if I tell you what happened, will you let me sleep in peace?”

This time they nodded, completely in-sync. Goldie would’ve felt a little creeped out if she wasn’t used to them mirroring one another.

She turned back towards the ceiling and sighed. “I got burned. Badly.”

“Burned?” Della and Donald said together. Neither of them expected that. “Then what was with all the blood?”

“I wasn’t careful enough on my way here,” she said casually. “Burns got scratched up, started to bleed. Hurt like hell.”

Della climbed onto the bed, plopping herself down far enough from Goldie that the bed didn’t shake but close enough to get a better look at the bandages. They were definitely a little red and her arm looked inflamed. “So how’d you get burned? A dragon?”

Donald leaned onto the bed. “A flamethrower?”

“It was some kind of magic.”

“Oohh,” Della crooned. “Did you meet Magica De Spell? Uncle Scrooge complains about her sometimes.”

“She sounds scary.”

Goldie closed her eyes for a second before looking over at the kids. “It wasn’t my first time crossing paths with her, but yes. She had some stupid fancy magical artifact with her and caught me off guard and now I’m stuck here ‘til I can remember if that healing spring was in Caladrion or some other dimension that starts with C!” She started to move her arm and then hissed in pain before setting it back down. “I’ve got enough vicodin in my system to keep me from remembering the name but not enough to stop my arm from hurting. Great.”

Della and Donald looked at each other again. “...Aunt Goldie?”

“Please for the love of God, stop calling me that,” Goldie groaned, closing her eyes once again. “What do you want now?”

Donald took his sister’s hand and tugged her off the bed. “Do you want any tea or anything?”

Goldie froze momentarily before turning to look at the kids again, seeing surprisingly innocent looks on their faces. She almost felt bad for snapping, but god was she tired. “...no. I just want to go to sleep.”

“Okay,” Donald said quietly. “We’ll leave you alone now. Right, Della?”

Della nodded. “Yeah, okay. Sleep tight, Aunt Goldie!”

They headed out the door as Goldie groaned one last time and tried to get back to sleep. Donald shut the door behind them and glared at his sister. “She said to stop calling her that!”

“Yeah, but I wanted to get a reaction outta her!” Della responded, putting her hands on her hips. “You said it made her run away last time, but this time she’s still here!”

“She doesn’t exactly have a choice,” Donald muttered, crossed his arms over his chest. “I bet she’d be running if she could!”

“Nah-uh!”

“Yeah-huh!”

“Nah-”

“Della, Donald.”

The twins turned to see Duckworth standing at the end of the hallway, giving them a suspicious stare.

“Miss O’Gilt is trying to get some sleep so she can recover faster. Perhaps the two of you could continue this argument somewhere else?”

The kids nodded sheepishly and rushed past Duckworth on their way to another room to argue and play in. Duckworth watched them over his shoulder for a few moments before turning back towards the room that housed their current uninvited guest. He thought back to the last time Goldie O’Gilt had stayed in the mansion and how Mr. McDuck’s mood was lifted and then subsequently crushed when she inevitably left in the middle of the night.

Though he thought this time would probably be no different, having the kids around would make her stay a bit more interesting, he was sure of that.

#ducktales #goldie o'gilt #della duck #donald duck #scrooge mcduck #duckworth #scroldie #fic #fics #not your aunt

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tintinwrites · 5 years ago

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home | Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales x Reader

A/N: You wanted that little post I made so here you all are!!

Rating: T

Warning: Established relationship. Naughty words. Light sexual references.

Word count: 1,137, apparently!!

Summary: Frankie is your home. Inspired by this.

GIF credit: ^ Please let me know if you don’t want me using your GIF!

Tags: @writefightandflightclub @ezrasarm (If you’d like to be added to my Frankie taglist, please let me know!)

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

You’d been living with Frankie for a few months now and the butterflies in you still fluttered with the knowledge that you would be walking into your home with him each time you were off work.

He was usually off work a little bit before you and there was something about coming home to him that made you feel...safe. At ease.

You lived in a tiny apartment, but he made it your home.

He was the love of your life, your place of comfort, the one who always made you laugh, and the most beautiful man you’d ever seen as if the rest of his good qualities weren’t enough.

When you walked in from a day of work where people seemed to not want to get any actual work done, you were ready to pull your favorite wine out of the fridge and drink the bottle.

You paused, however, when you saw Frankie; he was fast asleep on the couch with his hat pulled down over his eyes since the lights were on, mindful of the fact that you might need them on.

It was hard to believe you could love someone as much as you loved him, the way your chest would squeeze with the best kind of hurt you could ask for each time you saw him.

Your quest for wine now mostly forgotten, you dropped your bag and took your shoes off by the door, walking over to practically plop down onto him.

Gently, not wanting to hurt him or anything.

You fit perfectly on his body, probably from a couple of years of laying down on him so many times, but you liked to think it was because you were made for each other. You couldn’t remember believing in that sort of thing before you found him, the one man who you knew would never dare hurt you or break your heart. He was so incredible in your eyes, he had to be made for you, right?

Whether that was true or you were simply two people very much in love with each other, you loved laying down on him; the softness of his belly against yours, your chest pressing into the contours of his, the way you could immediately smell his body wash and the little bit of cologne you’d bought him for his birthday.

He woke up now that you were on top of him just like anyone would unless they were a deep sleeper, and you reached up to push his hat off his eyes.

“Hey, baby. Have fun at work?” He asked sleepily as his arm that was hanging off the couch came up to run his fingers up and down your back.

“I want to quit.” It was said in such a fake joyful voice that Frankie let out a chuckle.

“Then quit.” His other hand lifted and he ran his thumb along your bottom lip.

“What a nice idea.”

He eyed you with a thoughtful smile, sitting up and guiding you into his lap. “I’m serious. You know I make enough for both of us and maybe if you weren’t going crazy at work, you could focus on—”

“Don’t say it.” You shook your head, sliding out of his lap to sit next to him.

“Why not?” All he did was lean forward, leaning his head on your shoulder.

“Because if you say that to me, I’m going to want to quit my job and focus on my passion, and then it might not work out, and then you’re going to have to pay all the bills, and you’re going to hate me—”

Your worries were silenced by Frankie’s lips on yours as he kissed you slowly and sweetly, smiling at your sheepish look when he pulled away from you.

“I don’t care if you decide to lay on the couch all day as long as it’s something that makes you happy. I don’t like you coming home like this.”

“I can’t.”

“Why can’t you?”

“Because I like coming home to you and if I focus on my art then I’m probably going to be home a lot and you’ll be the one coming home to me.”

He smiled widely. “That would be terrible.”

You bumped your arm into his and now you were the one leaning your head on his shoulder. “I could wear a swing dress, and bake you pies, and bring you your slippers, and, oh, I can finally let you meet our secret kids.”

With a raised brow and a smirk he was trying to hide, he played along. “You’ve been hiding my own kids from me? What are their names?”

“Bobby and Mary.”

“These are my kids?”

“They’re definitely not the milkman’s if that’s what you’re thinking.”

He stared at you with a familiar look in his eye that was already making you giggle as you inched away from him. “Frankie, no.”

A scream fell from your lips when he dived for you and pinned you down on the couch, his fingers digging into your ribs.

You giggled and squirmed as he tickled your sides, pushing at his chest and trying to say his name between your laughs, only laughing harder when he pinned you down and nuzzled into your neck; he knew his facial hair always tickled the skin there.

“Okay, okay, I won’t be a Stepford wife!” That made him stop, but the little huff of a laugh he let out against your neck tickled too.

“I want a normal wife, not one that spends the entire day cleaning and pretending that makes her happy.” His lips trailed down to what little bit of your chest was showing in your work clothes.

“You’ll have to make me your wife first.”

“Okay.” That one word was said so sincerely that you looked at him with a soft expression, but he just looked up at you with his chin resting on you, smiling.

You laid there for a little bit, your fingers finding their way into his hair where you gently scratched his scalp. He loved to be scratched pretty much anywhere and he hummed, leaning into your touch.

“I don’t want to cook.”

“Me either.”

“It would be very sexy of you to order a pizza for us.”

“I don’t know what the fuck that means, but okay.”

You sat up as Frankie moved off you, watching him grab his phone to call in an order like he always did rather than using an app.

You watched his lips, listened to him tell the person on the other line all the toppings you wanted, and you smiled as you thought of how willing and logical he was about you quitting work to pursue your real passion.

And you were so happy that he was the man you could call home.

#frankie morales x reader #frankie catfish morales x reader #frankie morales imagine #triple frontier imagine

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ilikemesometaetaes · 5 years ago

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Don’t Hold Your Breath ~ jjk

Prologue

•••> Author: @ilikemesometaetaes

•••> Summary: As the CEO of an international government security company, you have the world at your fingertips. Living life lavishly and extravagantly has become the norm. Behind closed doors, however, you host a past that renders you lonely and, quite frankly, miserable. It’s only a matter of time before your past comes back to bite you right in the ass.

•••> Pairing(s): Jungkook/Reader

•••> Inspo: This fic is inspired by the song “SAVAGE ANTHEM” by PARTYNEXTDOOR. Thank you to @btssmutgalore for everything you’ve done to help me! You’re amazing!

•••> Word Count: 2.3k

•••> Rating: 18+ • Please do not read if you are below the age of 18. I do not condone minors reading my work. Of course, I cannot stop you.

•••> Warnings: a boatload of angst, heartbreak, cursing, pining, kissing, depression. Warnings are written specifically to chapter. Refer to the DHYB Main Page for the full rundown.

Note: I don’t have a beta reader so please forgive any mistakes I may have missed. Also, if you are confused by the italics, refer to the DHYB Main Page for info on that.

Taglist: @apurpledheart

If you’d like to be added to the taglist, add a comment to this chapter or the DHYB Main Page!

NAVIGATION: | > Chapter One (M) –> Mini-Masterlist -> Series Masterlist

~#~

NOW.

The bed was cold around you.

You felt yourself breathe. You felt your heart beating in your chest. You felt the evidence of physical life within your body.

But you couldn’t help the withdrawn and frigid feeling of death laced into your mind.

You felt alone. You felt longing. You felt numb yet riddled with too many emotions to comprehend all at once.

Overwhelmed with confusion, you went to the moment that brought you calm. It brought you peace and happiness despite the things lost.

The beautiful dream-like vision of butterflies and a certain meadow filled your memory as you laid in the darkness. Sighing with content, you let yourself remember.

“Fuck Jimin and his girlfriend. We can have all the fun on our own.” He sneered in his Satoori accent. After years of knowing you, Jungkook slipped from his proper accent whenever the two of you were alone. All you could do was chuckle at his harsh words.

The blanket laid out before you was a pristine sky blue. Jungkook had gathered small stones to hold it down at the corners.

“What have you been up to today?” You asked with a hint of breathlessness due to the trek the two of you had made to get to the peak of the large hill. Turning your head to look at him while you spoke, you noticed that his head was craned upwards, gaze locked on the sky.

In response to your query, he collapsed back onto the blanket, allowing his white t-shirt to slightly ride up, revealing a small sliver of the skin on his stomach in the process. The white reflected the sun in your eyes almost painfully, but not enough to take away from the angel-like glow that it gave him.

“Nothing much. Played video games for an hour or so. Cooked and made breakfast.” He angled his head slightly to look at you. "Finished up my essay for my philosophy class. You?”

“Oh, just the usual. Didn’t finish my calc assignment by noon so I’m only going to get partial credit for that.”

Your reply reminded you of how different the two of you were when it came to school. His alone time spent in his dorms went one of two ways; he either played video games with Taehyung or studied- there was no other. His scoff broke you out of your brief thoughts.

“You know, you’re going to end up falling behind this semester, and then we won’t have the same class for our last semester as college students.” His pout that accompanied his statement had your eyes flicking to his bottom lip which shined with a slight sheen of saliva, accentuating the plumpness of it.

It was no secret that you found Jungkook attractive. Hell, even Yoongi found him attractive and Yoongi was quite impassive. Even now, with his eyes squinting under the light of the sun, his hair messy, and a thin layer of sweat covering his skin, you found him absolutely breathtaking.

You remembered how the two of you met.

Shared classes brought you closer together. Ever since you had first met him during your sophomore year when you became part of a foreign exchange program in South Korea, the two of you clicked. Realizing that he spoke English- rough English- had you giddy and eager to teach him to perfect his language skills in return for helping you with your Korean. Needless to say, you learned Korean a bit quicker than he learned English seeing as one of your majors was dedicated to the language learning.

After you decided to stay in Korea and finish the requirements for one of your degrees at your other university online, the two of you grew close in the process of mutual education. When you decided to stay was when you actually got to know him.

He was pursuing a degree in music, specializing in vocal performance, while you were working towards a double major in political science and language studies with a minor in business. Although you were packed full of classes, your work ethic was definitely capable of improvement despite having helped you survive to senior year.

“I know, Kook, but I honestly don’t know why math is required for my major anyway. I just want to be done with it.” You grumbled and adjusted your clothes before laying beside him.

He sighed wistfully, signifying his state of relaxation and calm, which you found yourself fighting a smile for. Of all of the time you had been around Jungkook, he was always emotionally charged or stressed. There was never a time you knew him to be absolutely at peace or silent in the way he acted. To hear him decompress was still a relatively new concept to you and had you giddy to relax with him in hopes that he would open up to you.

A few moments of silence rested between you both, effectively ending the previous conversation.

“Do you think about him anymore?” He voiced, distracting you from eyeing a cloud as it covered the sun. The break from sunlight was welcome on your straining brows.

It took you a moment to respond, caught off guard by the loaded question. He knew of your situation because you were open with him. But why did he care? “Sometimes. I know that he wasn’t good for me. I know that I gave him too much slack and that’s why he lied to me.” You sighed.

“Yeah,” He chuckled dryly. “That dude was an asshole.”

“I still don’t get it. I told him that everything he did was okay. I told him all he had to be was honest and that I wouldn’t be mad at him.” The frustration of your breakup with your ex-boyfriend was nowhere close to being gone. Eleven months of lies and deceit despite the good memories was difficult to remove from your conscience.

He had used drugs, something you weren’t a fan of. Despite this, on top of the fact that it was illegal, you knew that it helped his depression and you loved him throughout his questionable choices on how to treat himself. All you had asked for was his honesty; all you wanted was for him to tell you when he used.

Jungkook sat up to look at you. He frowned and then reached towards you to brush away some of the hair that fell over your forehead.

“I get that he did you wrong. Believe me. I get it. But the fact that you still think about it is irritating. It’s been a year, right?” His scowl made him look adorable.

“Something like that.” You sighed.

“And you haven’t moved on?” He asked, concerned. You were about to reply in defense before he cut in again. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. I know you don’t have those types of feelings for him anymore, but you haven’t moved on from the situation?”

Your reply was curt. “I’ve moved on. I’m just annoyed.”

He sighed and looked down at his hand that he wasn’t leaning on, toying with the fabric of the blanket, before laying back down with an elongated exhale. He knew this conversation was over.

After a while of laying down in the sun in comfortable silence, you noticed that the clouds were starting to roll in more frequently, accompanied by a cooler breeze. When you craned your head back to look upwind, you saw the darkness of a storm system crawling across the sky.

“Hey Jungkook. I think we-“ Snore.

You cut yourself off at the sound, quickly snapping your head to survey the sleeping boy beside you. Eyebrows completely relaxed and lips slightly parted, he was a sight to behold. His hair had fallen over his eyes slightly, urging you to return the favor in brushing it out of the way. He stirred slightly before settling back down and sighing. What a sight to behold indeed.

The deep rumbling of thunder is what caused you both to jump and look at the sky. “Jesus.” He croaked while abruptly sitting up and rubbing at his eyes. “How long was I out?”

“I’m not sure. I only realized you were sleeping a few seconds ago.” You began picking up your things whilst he picked up the blanket, draping it over his arm.

The first few raindrops of the storm had only just begun; a light pitter-patter at random places in the grass began slowly at first, gradually picking up pace as you and Jungkook were packing up the last of your things.

You giggled as the rain started hitting your face. It reminded you of tiny, cold kisses. Jungkook, on the other hand, used the blanket to shield his head after slinging his backpack onto one shoulder. His face was scrunched up in an unconscious attempt to keep the rain out of his eyes.

“Let’s get out of here.” He huffed tiredly.

“Good idea.” You laughed.

The trek down the hill and back to Jungkook’s old truck accelerated to a jog following the increased pattern of raindrops hitting the ground. Before long, even you were seeking shelter under the blanket he was holding over his head. After a few minutes of laughing breathlessly and bumping into each other on the path back to the truck, you had decided to hold the other end of the blanket since he wasn’t really holding it over your head effectively. His free arm consequently ended up slung over your shoulders while your free arm draped over his.

The tan truck came into view after your twenty-minute journey back. By this point, the blanket had soaked through and both of you were drenched. Making quick work of the passenger side door, he slid in first to cross the seat while you followed suit with a huff.

“Well…” Jungkook trailed off, placing his bag and the wet blanket between you before running his fingers through his long and very wet hair in order to push it away from his eyes. “Shit.” He looked at you with finality and a small grin gracing his face.

You gazed at his beauty, glancing at his lips as he spoke, before meeting his chocolate brown gaze. Want filled your body as the adrenaline from the past few minutes surged through your veins, rendering you mute. Heartbeat running absolutely erratic and breath suddenly short, you became acutely aware of how tight of a space the two of you were in and how quiet the cabin of the truck became.

Oh, how you wanted to kiss him.

The seconds seemed to pass like hours. The mood in the truck morphed from playful and light to something else. Something thicker. Headier. Heavier.

The pressure of the moments passing by bristled you with tremors as your previous levels of adrenaline spiked almost uncontrollably. You didn’t miss the way his bottom lip twitched in the slightest of movement.

His eyes glanced at your lips for a split second, giving you no time to adjust to the quick movement, before his hand was on the back of your neck to usher you to him in a messy kiss. Heat flooded your body as the taste of his breath caressed your tongue.

“Y/N.” He breathed after momentarily pulling away. His dark eyes were filled with passionate fire, pupils dilated almost scarily. “You-” His lips reattached to yours before he could finish speaking, illuminating just how shocked and pleased he was with your kiss.

His lips were as soft as silk as they glid against your own, slotting perfectly in shape. His warm breath tasted mildly of morning breath- not that you minded- but mostly blueberry as you came to discover that he had slipped a jolly rancher into his mouth sometime during your journey back to the truck. You giggled at the thought of how much he loved candy, earning a smile from him as he continued to press his lips to your own.

There was no way you’d be able to pull away just to speak. Speaking was so unnecessary. Words were irrelevant in that moment.

Why speak when you could kiss him? When you could feel the way his lips moved against yours in ways they could never move when speaking? When they conveyed more emotions than any word could ever express? Why would you even bother ever speaking anymore when you could spend the rest of your life kissing Jeon Jungkook?

You answered your own questions as his arm lopped around your waist to pull your body closer to his: you wouldn’t.

Of course, those were thoughts in the heat of the moment. Simpler times called for simpler feelings. The pure and innocent ardor of love and adoration paired with the excitement of new attraction was a welcome sensation in contrast to the empty and cold feeling of your everyday life. You were sick of feeling numb.

Too many years were spent in emotional solitary confinement. Keeping your emotions at bay began affecting your health, causing your hair to thin and your skin to wither like paper. It took looking at yourself in the mirror after mulling over a photo of you and Jungkook before you noticed the difference. You hadn’t even noticed that you lost a considerable amount of weight.

Therapy had helped for a little while, but it didn’t assist you when you began seeing his face on news articles and TV once your sessions ended.

Even after the things that he had done, you were no stranger to the feeling of longing that you had for him- for the echoes of what used to be.

In your cold, companionless room, tears ran down your cheeks in mourning.

Of course, it was too good to last.

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