#because he def would not want to stop crouching no matter if he was in a robe or skirt or what

[13eyond13]

Now I kinda want to see L in one of those pastel granny looking gowns from the store,like the ones they sell when fall and winter starts.long kinda poofy sleeves,pastel or pretty rustic prints on a white back ground,satiny lining and soft flannel feeling stuff.like,Max comfy,some times comes with house shoes or a robe that matches

Just straight up comfy,warm,and loose and flowy.like,with how he seems to like his clothes I could see him liking these or one of the shorter ones with leggings or pj pants under it.

Hahaha agreed, or greeting the task force for the first time dressed up like Ebenezer Scrooge

[deniigi]

To carry on the MCU Peter anon: would you ever write a multiverse / blend where your Peter meets a more MCU Peter (actual MCU Peter not the fanon created one)? And/or initimable Peter meeting another version you’ve created?

Also, would you ever write a MJ (my beloved) POV fic?

Hey boo

So Question 1: I did a little piece with a MCU/Inimitable crossover here

It’s not quite the same, since it’s from the pov of MCU Peter.

The idea of young Inimitable Peter meeting someone who he could have so easily been if he’d not gotten involved with Team Red and had instead stuck closer to Stark would be an interesting thought, I must say. Not so interesting that I’d write it, but I’d def have half a drink and then a muse on the idea and how it would unfold.

For MJ, I have written some stuff from her POV! ( See just roll with it from the Dumpster Fires Verse)

I also wrote a terrifying piece a long ass time about about some non-NYC vigilantes trying to step in and overthrow the vigilante/Superpeople order of things by trying to goad Peter, Matt, Wade, etc into a fight. MJ narrates it and it’s sort of dark so I’m putting it under the cut here.

trigger warnings for violence (like Netflix DD and Punisher levels), violence against minors at school, and some pretty heavy injuries.

-------

“Michelle?” a voice she’d never heard in her life rasped into the classroom door. The smell of iron and smoke and god, blood—that was blood she was smelling—it was all suffocating.

“Michelle, honey, c’mon, sweetheart. We ain’t got time for being scared right now,” the voice said.

She’d never thought that she’d have to consider the fact that those were boots coming towards her, not sneakers, not shoes.

The butt of a rifle swung down into her view. Joined the boots right in front of her. Bones popped as the Punisher knelt down.

She knew him by the skull on his vest.

She knew him as a monster. Not a hero.

He held out a hand to her.

“I got you, baby girl,” he promised, “Ain’t no one gonna touch you.”

His hands were smeared in some kind of grease. Gun oil? Soot? It didn’t matter. He stayed crouching low. He didn’t wear a mask.

His nose was kind of crooked. And his eyes were deep set.

They were brown.

He said nothing, just held out his big, greasy hand.

She took it.

 --

 The Punisher’s grip was calloused and firm and he kept her behind him at all times. He was even bigger than she’d ever imagined; bigger than Mr. Murdock. Bigger than her dad. Maybe the around the same size and build as Wade.

He didn’t explain things; he used his hands to talk.

Stay behind me, said the press of his rough palm. Don’t let go, stay behind me.

Out front, the fingers said later, now curled over the tops of her own. Walk, walk fast. Out front.

Stay behind.

Out font.

Down.

He made her kneel with him and peeled off his vest. He didn’t give her a choice.

It was heavy. So heavy. He strapped it onto her as tight as it would go.

“Home stretch, darlin’,” he finally said with words, the noise of bullets and panic around them seemed quieter with him talking. She found that she didn’t want to leave him. “You go when I say, alright? You go when I say and you don’t look back, alright?”

No.

No, he would die if she left. He needed to wear the vest.

“Look at me, Michelle.” She did, through the tears. “You don’t look back.”

She nodded.

 --

 He said go.

She didn’t look back.

Not until Mr. Murdock was pulling her away, shouting at the top of his voice for an ambulance. She’d never heard that gravel in his tone before.

“Michelle, look at me,” Mr. Murdock told her, grabbing her cheeks and pulling her gaze away from the classroom where the Punisher was dying.

“Look at me, honey, look.”

There wasn’t much to look at, she couldn’t see his eyes through his mask.

“Are you hurt? Where are you hurt? Show me where you’re hurt.”

It didn’t matter, she couldn’t feel it anymore. The Punisher was dying in there, he needed his vest.

“Frank’s fine,” Mr. Murdock told her. He pulled her head back to face him, but he wasn’t looking at her at all. It was like he was looking down at the space between them. One of her hands felt warm on top, cold at the fingers. It didn’t want to cooperate as she pulled at the vest. “He’s fine, he’s gonna be fine. Fuck. Fuck. Put your arms around my neck, honey, c’mon. There you go, good girl. Alright, up you go. No, one more time. There you go, I got you. It’s okay, I got you.”

Mr. Murdock was stronger than he looked and he didn’t seem to mind that the vest was digging into his chest. His voice didn’t seem as loud, even though her head was right next to his throat.

She couldn’t tell if he was talking to her anymore.

 --

 She woke up.

There was white and blue and gray everywhere.

Her mom was burgundy. Her sweater was. Then she was tears, tears pouring out of her eyes, down over her lips. Her eyes weren’t burgundy, they were neon. Neon pink.

 --

 Her mom held her hand while the doctors explained to her that she’d have a lot of scarring, but she would be okay. She’d need some physical therapy to make the wrist do what it was supposed to again, but the bullet hadn’t caused irreparable damage.

The same for the wound in her ankle.

She’d be okay.

So why did she want to cry so bad?

 --

 She remembered why.

 --

 Peter was okay. He was in the room one over, attached to a lot of machines, but he was okay. His face wasn’t as clean as hers, the doctors and nurses hadn’t had the same kind of time to wash him down, they’d been busy trying to save his life.

His aunt had stepped out to go get things to wash his face for him. She was still wearing her scrubs. She worked in the ICU upstairs.

 --

 Ned was okay, he had a row of stitches from the bump in his wrist to his elbow. He told her tiredly that once he turned eighteen, he’d get a tattoo to cover the mark. Maybe laces, like sneaker, he told her.

Maybe stitches again, to remind himself what he’d almost lost.

 --

 Flash was okay. Abe was okay. Melanie and Gabriella were okay.

They were all okay.

Including the Punisher.

 --

 He came to see her in the hospital, he’d swiped a staff ID to do it. She thought that that was maybe overkill, but this was the man who’d offered his life for hers.

He was startled and went wide-eyed and stiff when she threw her arms around his broad chest and started crying. But he loosened up and told her that she shouldn’t be putting weight on her ankle. He let her hug him sitting on the bed instead.

He didn’t say things were okay like the others did. He grabbed her chin and shook it a little and said, “You’re fucking brave, girl. You’re so fucking brave.”

She didn’t believe him.

She’d just gone and hadn’t looked back.

“Sweetheart, there are times when you think, and times when you move. And both of them are different kinds of bravery,” he told her.

Different kinds of bravery.

“Do you mean courage?” she asked him.

He cocked his head. He had stitches of his own at the top of his cheekbone. Bruises from his temple to his chin.

“No, courage, that’s something else,” he said, “I’m talking about bravery.”

She didn’t understand. He said that he didn’t have a better way of explaining it. He smoothed her hair back and said that he was glad that she was alive and that she was going to get better.

He’d been the one who’d carried Peter out. He’d had to send her out first because he couldn’t carry both of them.

Mr. Murdock’s voice was raw and hoarse because he’d come running from the fire in the classroom next door and he’d been trying to find Peter. He was the only one who could hear Frank Castle through the fire and the bullets and the creak of the burning building. And Mr. Castle had told him that he couldn’t take both Peter and Michelle.

She remembered now.

Mr. Castle had been talking to himself the whole time they’d been running and hiding through that building. He’d been talking to himself, but he’d really been talking to Mr. Murdock who was trying to find a way in and a way out that wouldn’t get him killed.

There hadn’t been one, there were too many guns. The second she’d started running, Frank Castle had whistled, hard and loud and piercing and all the guns had turned on him.

She didn’t look back.

She thought that he hadn’t either.

“Thank you for saving us,” she told him.

He shook his head.

“Red’s your man, he called me screaming. Man never calls nobody in that tone of voice. You’d have thought y’all were his babies dying in there.”

Okay.

Okay, so was Mr. Murdock okay?

“Nah, girl. I don’t think he is. But I think he’ll get there.”

 --

 Mr. Murdock pretended like he was okay, but the way he wrapped his arms around both Michelle and Peter when they came to his office said that he was very much not. It wasn’t an awkward hug, even though there were two of them.

It was firm.

It was tight.

And Peter started crying and it was hard, really really hard not to join him.

Mr. Murdock let them go and pressed his forehead to Peter’s and said nothing. He just held Peter’s shoulder with one hand and smoothed a hand through his hair with the other. Peter wasn’t making words so much as he was making distressed sounds, but Matt understood him.

“He’s alright, Pete,” he said. “He’s alright.”

Who?

 --

 Wade was fine, somehow. There wasn’t a bullet hole in him. There wasn’t a scratch on him, he claimed, trying to smile and make Peter stop sobbing his heart out.

Matt told him that he wasn’t fucking helping and to just be fucking honest for once in his goddamn life.

Matt’s hands shook a little at his sides. His cuticles were still stained gray from the soot.

Wade looked from him to Peter a little helplessly and then at Michelle and he sobered. He held out an arm for her to come closer.

He was big, too. His ribs felt different from Mr. Castle’s.

“Where’s Ned?” he asked, pressing a hand on the back of Peter’s head to encourage him to direct his upset into his chest.

Ned was at home. Ned’s mom and dad were too upset to let him out of their sight for now.

“Yeah, I can see that,” Wade said. He didn’t hug her as tight as Matt had, he more laid a heavy arm across her shoulders and pulled a bit.

 --

 They weren’t allowed to go back to school. The whole campus was closed, there’d been significant damage to the south side and there were too many photos and crime scenes that needed to be documented.

Peter’s wounds were already mostly healed, while hers ached and burned with every movement.

He apologized for not getting to the room she’d been in faster.

That was some dumbass shit, that was.

“Who did it?” she asked him.

Peter set his jaw.

“We don’t know. Wade and Mr. Castle said they’re finding out. They aren’t letting me or Matt in on it.”

What did that mean?

“I think it means that it’s something bigger than us.”

And what did that mean?

“Uh, maybe bigger isn’t the right word. Lower.”

Lower. Like?

“Someone underground. Deeper in than me and Double D. We’re—we’re mostly surface level. Wade and Mr. Castle, they’re deep under there.”

“Were they trying to kill you, Peter?” she asked him.

He took a long shaky breath.

“I really hope not.”

 ---

 They weren’t trying to kill Peter, Mr. Murdock eventually told them, having had them come to his home for this news. He had them sit on his faux leather couch as he said this.

He was trying to say something without words, Michelle thought.

She thought she was reading it right.

It was personal. This was personal.

“Were they trying to kill you, Matt?” she asked. He shook his head.

No.

They weren’t trying to kill anyone, they’d been trying to draw them out. As many of them as possible.

“They’re taking stock of us,” Matt said to his fists. His knuckles never seemed to heal. “Making lists. They knew a school would bring everyone out and we fell for it like fucking chumps.”

What did that mean?

“Means there’s something big brewing, and I want nothing to do with it.”

That’s not what his knuckles said.

“Peter,” Matt said, “Whoever they are, they’re going to target you. You’re young, that makes you an easy mark. Do not engage, do you understand?”

Peter understood.

 ---

 Peter was hurt. He was hurt every day over the next few weeks. He had bullet wounds and knife wounds and it got to the point where, even after school reopened, he didn’t come back. It wasn’t suspicious, a lot of kids didn’t. Their parents were still terrified, maybe looking into other academies.

Peter was just sleeping. He had to sleep to heal and he had to heal because the second he set foot out the door there was someone there waiting for him and he couldn’t engage. He just had to take it. Suit or no suit.

MJ would have hit back by now, she was amazed that he hadn’t.

“The second I hit back, they’ll take that as permission,” Peter told her quietly at his desk in his room. May had bandaged his arm for him. She wasn’t concerned about school, she didn’t want Peter to even leave the house.

“Permission to do what?” she asked.

“To engage,” Peter said.

What did that mean, though?

“They’ll kill me.”

He couldn’t know that. He couldn’t—

“They don’t care who I am. It’ll be a message. As soon as I hit back, that makes whatever happens next fair game, so I can’t do anything.”

“Can’t Stark help you?” she asked. He sighed and looked at his bandaged wrist.

“If it gets any worse, he and May said I’ll stay with him for a while. But they’ll just move onto the next guy, and then the next guy, until someone engages. We can’t avoid them forever.”

‘We,’ Peter said. That meant that this was beyond him. This was everyone on that list those guys had shot her, stabbed Ned, scared everyone to make. The list that had set their school on fire.

 ---

It got worse.

Peter didn’t come to school.

He couldn’t breathe very well. He slept even more, but not at home. He slept at Stark Tower, where Tony Stark could guard him, because no one else could at the minute.

 ---

 It got worse because they started picking on Matt.

Matt as Mr. Murdock most certainly would not have engaged, but Matt as Matt was struggling. He was very obviously struggling.

Just sit back and take it, was what he had to do. Unlike Peter, who slept and had somewhere to go when things got too bad, Matt didn’t heal and Matt didn’t have anyone to lean on.

He stopped showing up to work.

Neither Foggy or Karen said anything about it. They carried on with the cases and the work and the filing as if nothing was wrong, as if nothing happened. As if they weren’t both suffocating, trying to carry their friend’s pain with their own.

Michelle went to see him and Foggy told her to be as quiet as she could be.

He slept with a broken arm laid up on his chest. He shivered in his sleep. His knuckles weren’t bruised, but his neck was and he didn’t acknowledge anyone who spoke to him.

There was a woman there with him, she was his sister, MJ remembered her. Elektra was watching him with silent, stoic fury in her eyes. It showed nowhere else on her.

“She’s protecting him,” Foggy explained as he made them all tea. “Well, maybe not protecting, but guarding him so he feels like he can sleep.”

There wasn’t anything to say to that, not when Spiderman and Daredevil could only rest in unconsciousness.

“Why are they doing this?” she asked him. Foggy sighed and set the kettle down.

“Because they’re cruel and they’re jealous and they think that this will get them respect,” he said.

Respect.

Psh.

All it did was make her mad.

“If you show them that you’re angry, Michelle, that’s as good as engaging. We can’t let them know that they’re getting to any of us.”

This was bullshit.

 ---

 Bullshit because Matt went to get groceries and didn’t come home and Wade had to go find him. They wouldn’t let Michelle see him, but she heard his sister screaming. She screamed at anyone who touched him, swore that she’d put the lights out of the next person who tried.

Foggy didn’t stop her.

Matt didn’t say anything.

He didn’t come to work and Foggy kept his office door closed.

Karen told Michelle that Elektra had taken Matt somewhere with her, where he would be safe. He wasn’t in Hell’s Kitchen. Elektra wouldn’t say where they’d gone, but she’d sent Foggy pictures so that he knew Matt was safe.

 ---

 It was bullshit because they were too scared to fuck with Wade or Castle, so instead they attacked Hawkeye the younger and Michelle heard through Wade that Hawkguy had nearly exploded in his anger. He couldn’t do anything, of course he couldn’t, that was how this game worked.

But he’d swapped his easy-going persona for the one he used when he worked with the Black Widow.

Wade said it was eerie to see him so quiet and focused. Locked onto his target.

The people trying to pick a fight, well, they were scared of Hawkeye.

 ---

 Not for long. They went in on both of Hawkeyes at the same time and soon Hawkeye the elder reached breaking point and called in the Widow so that he and his partner could get two minutes of peace. Just two.

 ---

 It was interesting how the second the Widow got involved, everything went topsy turvy.

Michelle had passed by the place where Wade had told her the Widow was standing guard and saw nothing out of the ordinary.

Then she realized that whoever these guys were, they were really, really scared of the Widow.

Not so high and mighty now, huh, boys?

They abandoned the Hawkeyes and went after Jessica Jones.

 ---

 It went on and on like this for two, three, maybe even four weeks. People took as much as they could. They picked themselves up. Some limped into the offices of Nelson, Murdock and Page. Some limped, watched carefully by people, in the street.

They were stopped at all hours by guys in plain clothes who struck out without warning. Threw fists. Feet. Spat on people. And instead of fighting back, local bodies threw them off and ran away. Avoided confrontation. Put walls and doors and fences between themselves and the others as much as they could.

It was, in a way, amazing.

The level of restraint was super human.

 ---

 Then the new kids got cocky and shoved the Winter Soldier.

They were in for a lesson.

Michelle saw the conflict on the news. Five guys throwing themselves at Bucky Barnes, who was trying to buy a bottle of whiskey in peace.

He ignored them, counted out exact change.

He walked right through their group on the way out the door and they parted around him, then followed him out of the convenience store.

Camera phone footage showed him walking home, being heckled by these creeps. A few blocks, presumably, from his home he stopped walking and the gang of people drew in close around him.

And then they all leapt back.

The Winter Soldier wasn’t taking their shit, he’d apparently decided. Loud enough to be heard from the cameraman’s place across the street, he shouted, “Y’all have one more chance to get the fuck out of my way.”

Let no one say he didn’t warn them.

They went down hard and they went down fast and they all went down within a minute of each other.

Bucky Barnes held a guy by his throat and told them to call their motherfucking leader, he wanted to have a chat.

It was the beginning of the end.

 ---

 Do not engage went right out the window and MJ woke up to her phone sending her six thousand alerts not to take such-and-such road or to approach such-and-such area.

The news showed her Peter slamming his fist into a man’s face like he was born to do it.

The Man in the Mask was out in broad daylight, stalking towards those people who were suddenly trying to escape him. He picked them up and dropped them without so much as breaking the rhythm of his pace.

Ironman beat the shit out of twelve people in the company courtyard.

Hawkeye had switched his bow for a rifle.

The general advice from all city personnel was to stay the fuck inside.

This was war.

 ---

 And then it was over.

And everything was cleaned up and bodies were carted off if they were found.

Peter arrived to school.

Matt reappeared in his office.

They carried on like nothing had happened. But there was something about the aftermath of silence that made the day of brutality so much more violent.

Neither of them were smiling. They were cold, thawing slowly.

Michelle thought of all the things they weren’t saying.

She thought she heard their combined bodies whisper, this is my city. This is our city. Get with it or go the fuck home.

She didn’t know if it made her feel better, but it certainly made her feel safe.

 --------

[charlessmithhasmyheart]

Title: Hunting Hijinks

Genre: Romance

Type: Charles x Reader

Triggers: None

A/N: Hey hey hey! This is a gift for the lovely @fangirl-ramblings. When I got the message that I was your secret santa, I was super excited! You are defs one of the people who I would consider to be my biggest supporter throughout this blog endeavor. Seriously! I would like to apologize for how long this took, but I wanted to make sure I was happy with everything before posting.

I know you had requested something about several people, so I chose Charles! Hope this is to your liking.

Here ya go! :)

____________________________

The sun was slowly sinking, the fire in front of you easily becoming your only source of light. The camp and it’s residents had been in the process of setting down for the night. Everyone but you. You were sitting on a log lost in thought, head resting in your hands as you stared into the flames; the object of your contemplation being none other than the mysterious Charles Smith.

Of course, this was of no surprise to you. It had been happening quite frequently. Charles was on your mind a lot. Especially since you had officially become a member of the Van Der Linde Gang.

A small smile began to tug at your lips as you recalled your first encounter with the illustrious group of outlaws.

You had been a bounty hunter then. Well, you hadn’t really been a true bounty hunter. You were just taking odd jobs from the wanted posters around Valentine and Saint Denis. It wasn’t the best work, but it paid well when you succeeded. And you did.

Believe it or not, you had actually met them during one of your jobs. You had been tracking a particularly elusive criminal for a few days. He had held up the general store and robbed a few of the townsfolk. Killed some too. The sheriff was adamant that he was brought back; alive or dead, it didn’t matter.

You were on the trail, the tracks very fresh when suddenly gunfire broke out ahead of you. Intrigued, you spurred your mount on only to come face to face with a shoot out. The target in question was crouched behind an over turned wagon, his own horse dead, as bullets from his attackers, three of them, soared through the air.

Determined to be the one to bring him to justice, you pulled your own gun from its holster and spurred your mount on again. Unfortunately the criminal, in what you can only assume to be a moment of stupidity, peaked from around the wagon, pistol loaded, only to receive a bullet to the face. With him now dead, the attacker’s switched their attention to you, guns still drawn. A curse slipped from your lips as you brought your horse to an abrupt stop.

“You take one step closer miss, and I cannot promise you’ll get away unharmed.” Warned their leader, who you later on learned to be Dutch.

When you made no move to speak he continued.

“Now I suggest you lower your weapon and we can talk this out. I see no reason for any more blood-shed.” He spoke, lowering his own weapon and signaling for the others in his group to do the same.

It took a moment, but you complied and re-holstered your weapon. Then came the conversation that would change your life. You had explained how you were a bounty hunter, making money to survive on your own after your family had died. Dutch responded in kind; giving you the run down of his gang, and, when he was finished, offered you a place to stay. After all, a woman of your abilities would be beneficial to their cause. Seeing as you had no better options, you accepted.

When you had arrived at their campsite at Horseshoe Overlook, you were introduced to many people who, despite being outlaws, were some of the most kind and hardworking people you had ever met. You fit right in, quickly developed relationships with many of the gang members, and the rest was history.

But despite all that, there was one member that you still hadn’t been able to understand.

When you had first been introduced to Charles, he barely mumbled a greeting or looked in your direction before heading of to complete some chore. You had brushed it off in the beginning, assuming you would find time to get to know him later. Now, it was later, and you knew next to nothing other than you had developed feelings for him.

It was all so odd. How could you develop feelings for someone who wouldn’t speak to you, let alone even look at you in the eyes? Sure, you had admired his silent nature, his penchant for taking on the difficult or unappealing jobs and his kindness with the other gang members from afar. Not to mention, he himself wasn’t unappealing to look at. But it still frustrated you to no end because you knew that he wouldn’t feel the same way. Charles had made it perfectly clear, without speaking, how he felt about you.

Stifling a groan, you rubbed a hand over your face, your frustration beginning to build to unhealthy levels.

“Something the matter [Y/N]? You’ve been sitting there an awfully long time.”

You jumped at the sound of someone’s voice and turned to see Hosea strolling towards you, a curious look on his face.

“I’m fine, Hosea.” You replied as he eased into a chair on the other side of the fire. “Just tired is all.”

“I may be old,” he started. “But not so that I can’t recognize when someone’s troubled. What’s bothering you my dear?”

You shifted your gaze from the fire to Hosea. He was leaning back in the chair, arms folded in his lap, with his eyes fixed on you. There was nothing but concern and a honest want to help you in them. He had always been like that. When you were struggling to learn the ways of the outlaw life, Hosea had been with you every step of the way. Making sure you knew the best hunting spots, helping you tend to your chores, and keeping your spirits up whenever you got discouraged. But, expressing your thoughts of Charles out loud? That was different. You didn’t know if you could.

“I don’t really know, if I’m bein’ honest.” You responded finally. “I’m just trying to sort out my feelings.”

And you were. Trying and failing, but you were trying. No matter how hard you tried you couldn’t convince yourself to forget.

“Your feelings for Charles?” He stated matter-of-factly.

You snapped your head up, heat beginning to rise in your face as you tried to stammer out a response.

“How did you know— I mean. I never said—”

Hosea chuckled and splayed his hands out in a calming gesture.

“Like I said. I may be old, but I still know a thing or two. And the way you look at the man when you think no one is paying attention? I’d say you were smitten.” He teased, winking at you.

You stared, dumbfounded and unsure of what to say. If Hosea knew, surely others in the camp knew. And if they knew, did that mean Charles knew as well? And if Charles knew then... No. You weren’t even going to consider the thought.

“You know what? I think I’m gonna turn in for the night.” You stated, pushing yourself off the log and heading towards your tent, refusing to look at Hosea anymore lest you get sucked into a full blown confession.

“You know,” He called after you. “It’ll just get worse the longer you keep it to yourself.”

You gave a half-hearted flick of you hand, the only indication that you had heard his words as you continued to walk through the camp.

——————————

The next morning proved to be no better. The minute you had opened your eyes, your thoughts immediately went to Charles. And Hosea’s advice. When you had finally settled into bed last night, you had pondered what he had said. Maybe it would be in your best interest to talk to him, but the fear of his first words to you being full of hate was too much, and you had drifted off late into the night.

Groaning, you pushed yourself to your feet, ready to distract yourself with the days work. You grabbed your hat from where it had fallen on the floor during sleep and stepped out of your tent. The morning sun shone through the campsite and the warmth felt good on your face. A cup of coffee sounded like a good way to start your day so you headed towards the communal pot; Abigail and Pearson already there with cups in hand.

“Morning [Y/N].” Pearson called out. “Any specific plans for your day yet?”

“Other then my daily chores? No.” You responded, pouring the dark liquid into your tin mug. “Why?”

“Well,” he began. “We’re getting low on food supplies and I can’t remember the last time anyone went hunting. Think you’re up for the task?”

“Sure,” you replied between sips. “I’ll head out right now.”

Pearson grunted his thanks and returned to his own mug. It felt good to finally have some sense of normalcy thrust upon you, so you were more than happy to comply. Nodding your head at Abigail, you finished your coffee; the warmth of the liquid reaching and energizing every part of your body before heading towards the horses.

Hunting hadn’t always been a skill that you particularly excelled at, but when you had expressed your unease with the chore during your first weeks with the gang, Hosea had wasted no time with setting up lessons with Arthur. Originally he would have asked Charles to do it, but every time he had mysteriously disappeared, leaving you wondering what accursed thing you had done to receive the cold shoulder. And hunting with Arthur wasn’t so bad. Of course, he was a little moody at times and his patience wasn’t always there, but you learned. You considered yourself to be quite the hunter nowadays.

Having now reached your horse, you ran your fingers through her mane and cooed soft encouragements before swinging yourself into the saddle. Grabbing the reins, you clicked your tongue and eased her towards he camp entrance.

“[Y/N], hold up!”

You brought your horse to a halt, startled, and turned in the saddle. You were surprised and a bit worried as Hosea sped up towards you, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Are you going out?” He inquired, an odd look that you couldn’t quite place etched on his face.

“Yes,” you replied hesitantly. “Pearson asked me to. Why?”

“Why don’t you take Charles with you, huh? He’s quite the hunter himself.” Without waiting for a reply he called out to Charles who was sharpening a knife. “Hey Charles! You up for some hunting? [Y/N], here could use some assistance.”

It was in that moment that your heart beat began to quicken; from anger and from nervousness at the thought of thee Charles Smith hunting with you. Alone. In the woods. With no one around for miles. Oh, would Hosea be getting an ear-full once you returned. Well, maybe you’d say if. The possibility of you running away forever from sheer embarrassment was entirely plausible.

“There now,” Hosea continued, clapping Charles on the shoulder with his hand. “I’m sure the two of you can scrounge up some food for the lot of us. And don’t come back until you do.”

You shot Hosea a burning look as he sauntered away, whistling a tune the whole while. Charles barely glanced at you as he pulled himself onto his own mount, Taima, and encouraged her towards the edge of camp. You followed suite without a word.

————————

You gripped the bow tightly in your hands, trying to rack your brain for anything to say as Charles walked beside you. The silence between the two of you was uncomfortable. At least, that’s how you felt about it, and, frankly, you couldn’t deal with the fact that the man you had pined for months over was finally capable of staying close to you. Deciding you’ve had enough, you lowered your weapon and turned to face him.

“Why do you hate me?”

“Excuse me?”

“Why do you hate me?” You repeated, crossing your arms.

Charles’ eyes widened as he took in your words, and a strange look crossed his face. You started to feel guilty as you waited for a response. You had come across as a bit rude. It wasn’t what you were going for, but the words just came out without any thought. But, now that you were in this predicament, you decided you were going to keep going.

“I don’t hate you,” Charles finally spoke.

“Well, then have I done something to upset you? I’ve been with the gang for months now and you’ve said all of six words to me.”

Another long moment of silence ensued. Finally deciding you’ve had enough, you tightened the grip on your bow and turned to leave, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. Before you could reach your horse, however, you felt a hand grasp your arm and you found yourself twisted around and a pair of lips locking with yours’. You tensed for barely a second as your mind tried to register what was happening. You were kissing Charles. Or, rather, he was kissing you. And it felt like you had always imagined it to be. When he broke away, you stared, dumbfounded.

“I don’t hate you, [Y/N],” He said, reaching out to take your hand his large calloused one. “I never have. In fact, it’s the opposite.”

“Charles,” You uttered, barely a whisper.

“Ever since the first day you stepped into camp, I knew there was something special about you. I was just too afraid to say anything.” Charles confessed. “I didn’t know how to say anything, because I didn’t know how you would feel.”

His dark eyes locked with yours and you could see the sincerity and fear swirling around in them. A small smile tugged at your lips. There was only one way you felt you could express your true feelings. You reached a hand up to cup his cheek and pulled him into another kiss.

Time seemed to stop. Your heart beat just as quick as you pressed your lips against his in a gentle fashion. His strong fingers brushed tentatively against the back of your neck while your own hand tangled amongst his dark locks. You placed your other hand against his chest and grasped at the loose fabric of his shirt, feeling a hunger your had never felt welling up inside you. Charles, sensing this, slipped a hand down to the small of your back and pulled you flush to him.

The kiss lasted for what felt like years before you finally pulled away, both of you breathing hard and a shine in his eyes that you no doubt mirrored.

“Do you know how I feel now?” You teased.

“Yes, I think so.” Charles chuckled, entwining his fingers with your own. You smiled warmly at him.

“Maybe we should get back to hunting then?” You inquired. “There’s a certain someone I need to have a chat with when we get back. And then, maybe we can have a chat of our own, hmm?”

Charles suppressed another laugh, placed a kiss on your cheek before resuming the hold on his own bow, and traipsed deeper into the woods. The memory of that kiss would reside in your mind as you finished the hunt and it would carry on until later in the evening when you and Charles had another moment alone.

[kylos-bens]

Mistakes Like This ↠ Obi-Wan Kenobi (Obi-Wan x Reader) Chapter 3

Word Count: 3.1K

Warnings: Slightly smutty??? There’s def some 18+ going on here folks LOLOLO 

Masterlist

Chapter 4 

Tags: @blondekel77​ <3 

A/N: I know this is TCW Obi but UGH SO HOT. Also I have been posting my chapters more frequently through Wattpad if you find it easier to read there. You can find me @/concordiabeskar with the same title of this fic. 

I HOPE EVERYONE ENJOYS!! 

The torchlight scanned the slick caves from left to right. The bottoms of your feet were aching from the rough terrain. Darilia is definitely one of the worst planets you've ever stepped foot on. You were leading the way and were on high alert just in case you caught sight of anything suspicious. In the few hours of walking through this dark cavern, it honestly bored you that there was no action. A trio of clones trailed behind you and Obi-Wan and talking amongst themselves. "Wait I see something," you perked up when you can see only a few hundred feet away, a tight entrance.

"It appears to be a dead-end," Obi-Wan stopped by your side, his gloved fingers grazed yours and you didn't move your own.

"It's an opening," you jogged on ahead ignoring that the grounds of this cave were slippery. There was a fracture through the walls. You run your hands on the jagged edges and peered through it. You gasped at the sight of where the torchlight illuminated a massive clearing within the caves. The ceilings were higher and there was an opening where dark water was pouring down into a gaping hole in the ground. Obi-Wan called out your name but you slipped through and were so amazed at what you were looking at. To find this thousand of meters underground was chilling and you were sure now that a droid factory could be established here. If there were more clearings like this there was no doubt machinery was already put in place.

"Will you slow down!" Obi-Wan made it through the fracture in the rocks. "You have no idea where you are going!" He looked around and marveled at the sight as well. You shone your light directly at him.

"There's another entrance over there," you exclaimed and he immediately took hold of the torchlight in your hand. "Sorry." You lowered it again and the light caught something shiny. The clones were trying to make their way through the fracture but had to remove some of the packs to fit through. You moved your light again and clusters of shiny reddish-orange crystals reflected the beam.

"Watch your step," Obi-Wan murmured as you continued on your path towards the other entrance.

"Those can't be kyber crystals?" You looked at him.

"No," he replied keeping an eye out because they were exposed here. The clones were starting to make their way in when suddenly there was the sound of something cracking. It was faint but you knew Obi-Wan heard it too. "Stay still!" He said calmly. Everyone stood in their tracks. You shine your light on the walls of the cavern and they were all peppered with those crystals. It was such a stark contrast to the black rock. Then your light was on the ground. You didn't notice it at first but it was shiny just like black marble and you realized that you can see through it.

"Obi-Wan I think this is ice," you whispered. He turned his head to the clones who followed their order of staying still. "There's too many of us." You kept your eyes out for what was underneath the black ice. It was too dark but you can make out what looked like more sharp rocks.

"Fall back," Obi-Wan ordered. One by one in swift movements the clones went back through the fracture. You were making your way slowly behind Obi-Wan when he stopped.

"What are you stopping for?" you asked already worried that the integrity of the ground you stood on was seconds from giving up on you. "Obi-Wan?" The sound of the cracking grew louder.

"General?" one of the clones were still waiting by the entrance. Then everything happened so quickly that you didn't even have time to react. Obi-Wan faced you with panic in his eyes and he embraced your body pulling you close to him and stalactites came crashing down. The wind was knocked out of you as his body collided with yours. Both of you crashed through the ground and the black ice slammed hard against your wound. The drop felt like forever but you clutched on to Obi-Wan. The shards of icy glass triggered your memories and as the both of you freefall the last thing you wanted to think about was at least you die with Obi-Wan. You hit your head against something and then there was a splash.

*:·ﾟ✧

You were submerged in water and the only thing you could see was a blurry image of Obi-Wan swimming towards you. That's when you realized and you panicked. The bubbles escaped your mouth and you started waving your arms. You were once again denied air and Obi-Wan got to you. His arms wrapped around you and he swam towards the surface. It took forever but both of you gasped for air. There was a rocky edge where Obi-Wan swam you over. You were coughing out so much water but in your eyes, it just looked like dark oil. Unsure if it was blood because there was a salty metallic taste to it. You crawled on the rocks and spat it out. Obi-Wan was still gasping for air and coughing while making a face on the edge. You laid out flat on your back and looked up. It was an endless abyss of darkness. You didn't know how long the both of you fell for and you couldn't hear the clones with the roaring sound of water. The only light that shone through were these black crystals surrounding the walls. You didn't know if you hit your head so hard that colors were now different to you.

"Obi-Wan?" you whispered. He turned to you and he had the same look of fear in his blue eyes that snowy evening. He rushed over to you but you stopped him. "I'm fine." You were getting up and he touched your forehead where a pain shot through you. He removed his hand and there was dark blood on his fingers. He looked up at what you were just looking at and he called out to the clones.

There was no answer.

From above the drop didn't seem so far down but now you felt that you entered the planet's crust. He ignited his lightsaber and a blue glow lit up the edge that both of you were on. You sit and realized that your robes were torn and so were Obi-Wan's. His was not as mangled but your own had one sleeve ripped away and a gash running down your shoulder. You'll live.

"What is this?" he whispered. You looked at what he was looking at and your eyes were trying to focus on what was in front of the both of you.

"We have to find a way to get back up," you hoisted yourself up on your knees and you felt your own lightsaber hit your thigh. Obi-Wan stayed silent so you were curious at what exactly he was looking at. "Does it look familiar to you?" You examined it. It looked exactly like the black ice you were just standing on but this time it was more jagged. The black crystals around you glowed even more and you took notice of that.

"It's some sort of glass," he moved closer still lightsaber in hand. You managed to get up and followed him in a few steps. That's when you saw that it was a reflective surface. The lightsaber glow looked grimmer in the reflection but you couldn't see his shape. You frowned and then you saw your own reflection. Ghastly and with a cut on your forehead, you immediately backed away because you recognized what this was.

"Obi-Wan we need to get back up," you turned to him but he was no longer there with you. You blinked once and you were in complete darkness. The blood in your veins turned into ice and you spun around heart thumping in your ears. The black crystals were no longer glowing and you reached out with your hands but meet nothing. No, it can't be. You searched your fuzzy mind for something to explain what is going on right now.

You remembered reading about this enchanted black crystal formation as a Padawan. Staring at the towering wall you recalled that it shows your deepest and darkest desires. It made you nervous because all you could think about was what it would show you. These black crystal formation were just fables. Yet here you were staring up at it.

You turned your head when you hear the voice of Obi-Wan by your side. "What's going on? Where are you?"

He was still here but you couldn't see him. "Obi-Wan please just move back towards the water," you said making sure he doesn't step any closer to the reflection. Silence and you were disorientated, but you turned in every way possible because you didn't know where the water was either. The sound of the water was now muted and you couldn't feel anything in front of you. That was when you made contact with the cool smooth surface of the rocks. Your eyes were slowly adjusting in the dark but then you realized that the black crystals were glowing again. There was a pang of nervousness when you see your reflection looking back at you. She smiled a devious grin and you backed away and bumped into something. You turned and it was Obi-Wan.

"Stars! You must have hit your head so hard," he tsked. You were stunned to see him back in front of you. "What did you see?" He asked squinting his eyes toward the reflection.

"Don't look Obi-Wan please," you pushed on his chest but he collided with something behind him. He was also startled and you backed away. The black crystal had manifested around the both of you.

"What's the matter with you?" He placed his hand on the crystal and he frowned. There was a dim soft glow and you noticed a muscle twinge in his jaw. You looked at what he was looking at and it was not a reflection of him but of you. You looked in front of you and instead of seeing yourself, it was of him. Your head was spinning from the changes so you had to crouch down. You thought to yourself that he must have seen what you were seeing.

When you looked up at the reflection, the glow was back. Your vision was foggy like you were staring at a mirror after a hot shower and behind you was Obi-Wan getting down on his knees. It caused you to hold your breath and sit still. He placed his gloved hand on the crook of your neck. You start wondering if this was part of your mind playing tricks or it was what the crystal was showing you. No, you felt his hand on your neck, and then you felt his beard by your ear. The prickly sensation made you shiver. This was too good to be true.

"I saw it," he whispered on your skin. "It's okay."

"We need to get out of here," you clenched your thighs together. You never heard him speak in that tone before and what it did to you was oh so good.

"We will," he pressed a kiss on your neck. The gentle embrace of his other arm held you in place. Your arms stuck to your sides and whole body trembling. "Please darling let me in. Just this once." His blue eyes looked at you in the reflection. You closed your eyes and let out a whimper as he continues to kiss down your neck and on your exposed shoulder where the sleeve was torn. Is this real?

"This is all an illusion Obi-Wan," you opened your eyes once again and he was focused on you. "You aren't really here."

"Yes I am," he moved his other free hand and squeezes your waist pulling you back against him. "I'm here can't you feel me?" Oh, you did feel him. Hard and pressed up against you.

"This is wrong Obi-Wan," you were breathing hard as he moved his other hand down the side of your body. It was tantalizing and you were so tempted. You stared at the reflection. It was a sight to see. Obi-Wan's hair flopped down on his forehead and the lighting gave his face shadows and it did things to you. This was an image you always dreamed about. He pressed his cheek against your neck and smiled. Once again his gloved hand made its way to hold your chin and held you in place. "Please." It was a pathetic sound that came out of your mouth. He sucked on the skin and the beard was an added sensation.

"Yes, my sweet one?" he whispered. You turned your own head to meet his eyes but when you do you let out a scream. His eyes were dark and hollowed out.

You sat up in a frenzy and were surprised to see that another Obi-Wan was right in front of you. He appeared to look out of breath as well. He was still soaking wet from your drop down into the dark pool and he reached out to you. "What in Maker's name was that?" he could only mutter it. "Did I hurt you?" You were confused until now. However, you were sure it was the real him.

"No what did you see?" you wanted to just get away from this. It was feeding your desires.

"It was nothing," he got up and looked around. "You would not appreciate it." You saw that the black crystal wall was no longer surrounding you. The images you saw were being tucked away in the back of your head. You kept quiet while Obi-Wan thought of a plan to get out. Your mind was too clouded with thoughts that no strategies came up. It took a few tries, but now Obi-Wan was maneuvering his way out of the rocks.  You followed in suit and he warned you about the slippery rocks.

"I got it," you whispered. Both of you balanced your way by the walls and tried climbing up but it was no use.

"Come here," he said and that caught you off guard at first but he motioned that he was going to lift you up to the closest edge.

"This won't work," you said but you obeyed him anyway. You step on his hands and launched you up before you catch the ledge. "Kriff!" You screamed. The pain from your fall shot through you. Obi-Wan supported your legs and kept you up as you tried shimming your way on the ledge.

"Are you alright up there?" he reached up and you take his hand.

"Perfectly splendid," you said through gritted teeth and you pull him up as well. He examined your expression and realized that you looked tired and cold. You honestly had enough and just wanted to rest after the events that happened.

"We'll rest here. We are hidden," he removed his outer robes and handed them to you. You wrapped it around yourself and took in his scent. He watched as you huddled against the rocks and he leaned back against the other side. "We might have to climb the entire way back up. So rest up." You closed your eyes and just turned to your side.

*:·ﾟ✧

You wake up and were unsure how long you've been asleep. The hood of Obi-Wan's robe was over your head and once you removed it you turned to see that he was also passed out from exhaustion. His head was leaning against the rocks and you just stared at him. You felt his energy in the force and you didn't know why you actively sought that out at the moment. It had low vibrations meaning he was not even aware that you were already awake. This whole mission tired him out. Not knowing what exactly you were trying to do, you moved a little closer and lifted your hand towards him with the purpose of finding out what he saw.

It felt wrong but you had to know. His defense was still down and you gently grasped at his recent memories. You were immediately launched into his point of view. Harsh breathing and whimpering. You blinked a couple of times before you saw your self sprawled on all fours on the edge of the black crystal formation. Obi-Wan was grasping your hips and pounding into you with slow but purposeful strokes. Your robes were skewed and he leaned down pressing his robbed chest against you. "Master please don't stop," you whimpered from underneath him. You were watching this with widened eyes. His deepest and darkest desire was a moment like this. He had his gloved hand grab your neck and pulled you back so you were on your knees and flat against him.

"Look at me in the reflection darling," he smirked and that sent a wave of arousal through your own body. You obeyed and he whispered a well done in your ear. He quickened his pace rolling his hips against yours and you were moaning out for more. Your body bounced up and down on his cock. You were loud and even you were surprised by this. Never in your life did you hear yourself like that. He moved his thumb on your lips and parted them before he slipped it in. You begin to nibble on it and the sensation probably sent more pleasure to Obi-Wan because he shivered as he thrust into your aching core. You were craving for what was going to come next but you sensed the memory fading. All at once, it disappeared and you were facing a flustered Obi-Wan. His eyes were wide and lips parted.

"I am so sorry," you backed away and he couldn't speak. "That was so wrong of me." You had nowhere to go and a blush was creeping up on your face. You can see his chest rising and falling.

"Don't be sorry," he whispered. Did he want you to see that? The both of you were just a few feet away from each other and it took every part of you not to reach out to him. Your body was aching just for him and he knew that. Once again your mind kept saying no that this was a bad idea but your legs continued to press hard against one another. Your heart racing as you picture what he saw.

"This never happened between us," you looked him in the eyes as he moved towards you. His hand hovered over your waist and moved up to your shoulder and his gloved finger traced your collarbone.

"What did?" He whispers on your lips and a hand gripping your neck.

Next Chapter

[babysizedfics]

I was just thinking on Vee pouting to get more cuddles or more playtime or something, not that her Fam would ever deny her love or anything, but does Vee ever pout or use puppy eyes to be a bit cheeky? Or to maybe get more sweets or something? And if he does, who is the weakest one to Vee's pouting abilities or who is inmune to them? Idk why I thought of it but i find Vee pouting adorable (as long as she's not really upset) 🧁

vee wouldnt pout to actually do something naughty or anything but she DEFINITELY uses it playfully to get her way and is delighted by how well it works

Now: Four Characters' Reactions To Vee Pouting To Get Her Way (The 4th Will Shock You)

Logan

logan is the biggest sucker for vee's pouts, u woukdnt expect it but its similar to when vee is ill, if logan sees vee in a vulnerable state he goes full mama bear mode and breaks all his own rules. He's def the weakest. if he sees vee stick her bottom lip out then he instantly gasps a little and crouches down and softly asks "whats the matter, princess?"

Roman

Roman is the second weakest to vee's pouts. he literally just thinks his baby sib is the cutests thing in the whole world and he hates how much control that gives vee. when hes teasing her or when he's hogging the controller when they play animal corssing or something, as soon as vee breaks out the teary eyes and slumps into herself (whether its fake or real) he immediately snaps out of the teasy older brother vibes and asks if she's okay and was it something he said and does she want to sit in his lap. if it was a fake pout vee uses the advantage to run away from his tickles or grab the controller while giggling and roman very dramatically proclaims her a traitor and tickles her for her crimes

Janus

janus is PRETTY good at staying steely when it comes to vee's pouts, but the fact that he missed so many warning signs with him before he ran away means janus is extra cautious about upsetting vee. obviously if he's just told her no she cannot have a second lollipop because logan has strict rukes about sugar, he's not going to fall for the puppy dog eyes. it doesnt mean his heart doesnt melt, but he doesnt fall for it. however if the pout comes seemingly out of nowhere like after vee was ggigling then SUDDENLY she's wobbling her lip then janus gets worried that she had a sudden mood change and tries to cheer her up with sweets and gifts anyway bdhshshs (vee doesnt rlly like getting gifts but janus makes it lowkey enough that she barely notices the anxiety)

Patton

lo and behold, patton is immune to vee's pouting! NOT to say he doesnt react to it - if anything he gushes ! if he sees his baby pouting he immediately coos "AWWW what a cute grumpy widdle kitty!" and pinches her cheeks softly and giggles. he gives her a TON of attention when she pouts and coos and babies her so much that vee literslly forgets what he was pouting for ! because now he feels teeny tiny because papa is calling him his sweet little pudding cup of angel delight and pulling him into his lap. whether or not patton does this on purpose is ambiguous. does he just wanna gush about vee? or does he know it stops her from pouting? idk hshs

[powerosewaterpuff]

so one question , what happen after bruce " death "

okokok so first off thank you so so much for this, it def helped get my creative juices flowing (and i totally didn’t do this instead of study for my exams :) )! so, when it came to bruce’s death i wanted to do one scene/moment that kinda encapulasted all the emotions happening etc., and i’m assuming u meant in terms of my lil reverse robin au with jason being the oldest (i really should make this a series lol) so yeah, please enjoy and this legit was churned out at 2:04AM on the dot so yk its s h i t

••••••••••

It was the soft snoring that had tipped Jason off.

The sound slowly flowed through the winds and slipped into his ears, as he went from rooftop to rooftop, as he scoured closer to Wayne Manor. He had avoided his old ‘home’ like the plague, a plague so dark and twisted it could infect him by only a glance but for some reason he felt almost obligated to get at least one check or look.

Maybe, it was the off handed disparaging comment that Dick had made in patrol under this breath after settling a crime scene a little too close to Jason’s turf that no one had caught except him that was yanking his unwilling body to just check that everything was fucking peachy. It was just a check. He would be in and out with minimal harm done and no one would even have to see him, and he could quell this annoying little voice creaking on about how much he has failed Dick, blathering on and on about his so many shortcomings when it came to him.

He hadn’t exactly expected to find Dick curled in his civvies up on an old nook by one of the gargoyles perched on the roof and snoring away. It was a spot they had haunted a lot in their youth, and Dick would insist on pulling Jason out of the warm confines of his bed just to watch the sun come up from that very spot. Jason would moan and complain about it for a while but once he saw the iridescent sheen of the blazing sun rearing it’s head on the horizon, he would clamp his mouth shut to enjoy the view.

He examined Dick critically and weighed his odds objectively as he inched closer, each thunk of his boots a calculated risk he was annoyingly choosing to take. Dick was clearly safe in some capacity and if the little brats down below couldn’t find him they would eventually try the roof, so Jason couldn’t exactly pinpoint the reason why he was still moving closer, tense but still moving. It was almost like a snake, slithering forward with its defences high as it keeps itself on edge for any sudden movements.

He would’ve left. Jason was going to leave, he had already eased his fragile conscience as it was, and he knew that Dick wasn’t in any life threatening danger, (Unless the danger was Jason himself), but it wasn’t until he was close enough to cock his head to the side a bit to get a better angle on Dick’s face, when he stopped in his tracks.

Little tear tracks, almost vein like, had stained Dick’s cheeks. They weren’t even all that noticeable, but the sheer existence of them at all was enough to make Jason just stop.

(He had always had a hard time ignoring Dick’s tears, hadn’t he? When Dick would sprain an ankle, or get even the mildest of all mild concussions, and his eyes began to get this glassy sheen while he desperately tried to hide them, Jason would be unable to leave his side. He had almost sworn himself into the duty of making sure Dick didn’t cry. Oh, how fate fiddles with its toys.)

Swallowing hard, Jason’s eyes flickered around, doing one last sweep of his surroundings. He sighed, attaching his gun to the holster around his waist and crouched down on the balls of his feet next to Dick. He fucking despised how Dick almost realized he was next to him, and shifted his position. Leaning his head onto Jason’s shins.

Jason knew enough to keep his connection with Dick as thin as he possibly could, but he was too selfish to let it burn to the ground like all the countless bridges he had torched and scorned at. Knowledgeable enough to distance but too selfish to leave.

What a fucking motto that was.

Jason took yet another shaky sigh, a lot more haggard this time, as he rubbed his hands over the smooth material of his helmet. It grounded him, for a slip of a moment, as he tried to avert his eyes from Dick’s form that was rising and falling slowly. Every time he glanced over, he managed to find something else he hated.

The dark circles making stark holes under his eyes.

The pinched look pulling at his features.

Those stupid fucking tear stains that were just screeching at Jason.

(“Batman just saves everyone, doesn’t he?”)

The fact that everytime Jason blinked, an eerily green shade would overtake his vision, leaving the form next to him shifting and contorting between the man next to him and the little twelve year old he had left behind. Scorched in the flames of Jason’s symphony.

Jason fumbled to release himself from his helmet, as his mind played catch up woth his thoughts and he ignored the pulling at his chest. He shoved the helmet off as it fizzed away, and threw his head back to take clumsy gulps of air. The putrid smell of rotting flesh mixed with dirt was ripping through him, but he pushed it aside. As he always did.

You just couldn’t fucking leave, Todd. Why the fuck couldn’t you just leave, huh? Ironic, wasn’t it? You keep demanding people realize you’re a different creature from what you once were, yet you can barely differentiate between your twelve year old brother and the man whose morphed into everything you fucking hate. Why? Why are you here? Move. Move. Get up. Get the fuck up, Tod-.

“Y’know? You are such an asshole,” Jason croaked softly, shifting his eyes to see if Dick stirred but to no response.

“I know you don’t want this. I know that, so why are you still against m—,” Jason ran a hand through his hair and tugged at his roots slightly, “Batman saves everyone, huh? He doesn’t save you though, does he? No ones here to catch you when you fall anymore, and now you’re crying on a fucking roof.”

He curled his hands around his roots tighter, feeling the pull of his skin prickle at his mind, “You’re setting a bad example, Dick. What will your dearest little brats think about this performance? He never pulled shit like this. You know that, though. I know you do. That’s why you’re doing it in a little secret spot so that you can turn yourself around, and give that stupid smile that no one believes anyways. I always thought you were a little less predictable then that. I overestimated, clearly.”

Jason resolved to stare at the drying splatters of blood that adorned the soles of his shoes. He bit down the churning of acids in his stomach, a feeble attempt of his conscience to make him feel like shit. He had overestimated. He had. Dick wasn’t fucking better, it didn’t matter that he had tried to smother the Joker in an adrenaline high, because he was still as useless as Bruce. Jason was effective, he got shit done that no one else had the stomach to do and that was fine. He had far gotten over his pleading desire for Batman to avenge him, it was a fallacy of the boy who had become a rotting carcass under the confines of wood and shattering bones. Jason has become far more attuned to the reality of his situation, not the fallacy.

As the moon revealed itself from behind a long string of clouds, Jason once again glanced down at Dick. He snorted softly, as he saw a certain gleam in Dick’s waves of hair.

“God, do you still use that same pomade? I swear you got an allergy from that, did you not? Anyways it still fucking reeks, so you better take that shit off.”

Jason allowed himself to slowly unfurl his hands from almost tanking out tufts of his hair, as he felt the tightly wound rope around his chest unwind ever so slowly.

“Grayson? Grayson!”

The shrill tilt of a voice shoved Jason back into reality, and he was already setting his helmet into place, with his line soaring across the sky to another building. He cast a fleeting look at Dick, before he soared off into the sky before the little boy dressed in a jalabiya got the chance to peak his head into the little flap leading up to the roof.

Fin

(P.S. It really hadn’t been Jason’s ideal Friday night, by any means necessary. He had envisioned himself finally finishing Little Women, and being able to devour the next book that had ‘mysteriously’ shown by his door. Instead, he was roped into watching Miracle on 34th Street with a particular blue bird perched on the floor by his couch.

Bryon has just been complaining to Kris about his failed proposal attempt with Susan, when Jason caught onto the sound of soft breathing with a hint of a snore. He pushed himself out of his previous position, and peered down to find Dick slumped on the floor with his head resting on the side of Jason’s legs. He sighed, his lips twitching upwards as he didn’t dare move his legs from their spot.

He stretched his arms out out, to reach for both his book that was on the old coffee table as well as the remote. He smacked the end of the remote a few times, and slowly lowered the volume on the TV. (Dick had once told him he never really liked sleeping in complete silence, it bothered him to some extent). He then flipped to the page he had stopped on, slowly pulling out an old but pristine bookmark that Jason and Bruce had made once, and gently placed it next to him. He leaned back, resting his aching back as his eyes flickered over the words of the novel, all the more aware of the presence by his feet but he found himself not minding all that much. He knew this kind of calming bliss was only temporary with the ‘clan’ they had but he savoured it with all he had.

...The children are regular archangels, and I-well, I’m Jo, and never shall be anything else. Oh, I must tell you that I came near having a quarrel with Laurie...(P.267 of Little Women.)

•••

SOOO THATS IT THIS TOOK SO MUCH LONGER THAN I WANTED I AM SO SORRY! i’m pretty pleased with how it turned out and even though it’s not a series of hc’s per say i wanted to kinda encapsulate everything yk? also damian wears a jalabiya please let this child be connected to his culture for my sanity and his (my little egyptian-canadian ass needs this o k?) also my plan is to do a lil christmas fic with bruce and dick but u h h i have shitty time management skills lEMME TELL UUU I STILL HAVE WAY TOO MUCH UNFINISHED SHIT IN AO3 T-T BUT ANWAYS THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR READING THIS WAS HELLA FUN TO DO :)!!

[nikibogwater]

“Feline Paralysis”--a Tales of Arcadia fanfiction

Feline Paralysis (def): A state of immobility caused by the presence of a cat on top of one's person.

Archie's boy has been working himself too hard ever since Merlin took them in, and Archie is determined to put a stop to it by any means necessary.

It is Soft Douxie-Archie Friendship Hours, my dears. @poetryinmotion-author gave me the prompt, and I think I may have taken it way further than even she was expecting, so....yeah, buckle up, it’s time for some Feels. 🙃

Read on AO3

Or below the cut:

Archibald was on the hunt. 

It was actually a rather nice change of pace, truth be told. Archie hadn’t needed to hunt even once since Merlin took them in two weeks ago, and while he certainly appreciated having immediate access to food at all times, he had been growing a bit stiff and lethargic as a result. A cat (and a dragon too, for that matter) simply had to spend a little time stalking and chasing, or else they would lose their edge. Today’s hunt was a bit different, however. This hunt was not about obtaining food, or even just keeping his claws sharp. No, this hunt was about something a little more dear to Archie’s heart. 

Today, Archie was hunting Douxie.

Something strange had come over the boy in the last two weeks. He had been uncannily industrious, jumping at every opportunity to do even the most menial of tasks, slaving away in Merlin’s study long after the Master had retired, even badgering the old wizard for more chores to do. Douxie was no stranger to hard work, that was true. He may have been an excellent con artist, but he still had to earn his bread the old-fashioned way from time to time. But he also relished what downtime he and Archie were able to get. Douxie had a mind that liked to wander, and a great affinity for sleep. And he was still a growing boy on top of that. He needed his rest. Yet ever since they had come to live with Merlin, Douxie had hardly stopped moving, except to collapse into bed at any ungodly hour of the night, only to rise again with the sun a few hours later. It was beginning to take its toll on the young wizard’s health. He somehow looked more gaunt and malnourished here than he did in the gutters of Camelot, and his normally brilliant mind was a jumbled mess of task lists, potion ingredients, and whatever new spells Merlin was managing to teach him in between his frantic bursts of labor. 

Archie intended to put an end to this nonsense. This just wasn’t like Douxie. Whatever was going on with his Familiar, he intended to suss it out and squash it like a bug. And so, the hunt had begun. He had been stalking his quarry since breakfast, and had yet to see him so much as pause to breathe. In just four hours, Douxie had gathered and prepared thirteen different varieties of herb for potion brewing, tidied and swept the study, memorized seven new spells, milked the Slorr, done the laundry, tidied and swept the study again, and now he was occupied in reorganizing the bookshelves (which he had already done just yesterday). Archie prowled in the shadows nearby, tail flicking back and forth as he watched for the opportunity to strike. 

Douxie’s arms were full of heavy tomes, and he had a quill pen stuck between his teeth as he glanced between a roll of parchment on a nearby lectern and the half-empty bookshelf. He fumbled with the books for a moment, managing to slip one back into its proper place on the shelf before the other three went tumbling out of his arms and landed with a soft thud on the floor.

“Oh, fuzzbuckets,” Douxie groaned, taking the quill out of his mouth and crossing something off of the parchment. He set the pen down and knelt to gather up the fallen books. He wobbled a bit as he stood up, and had to brace himself against the bookshelf for a moment. Archie flexed his claws impatiently. Douxie shoved the other three books into place and checked his list again, crossing off a few more lines. He stopped for a moment, eyes darting between the parchment and the bookshelf once again, and his brow furrowed. He looked over at his Familiar, who immediately pretended he had been washing his face the entire time. “Archie, you haven’t seen Merlock’s Grimoire of First-Level Spellcasting, have you?” 

“You left it in your quarters last night,” Archie replied, lifting his glasses with one paw so that he could wash around his eyes with the other. “Though why you were studying it is beyond me. You already know all of your first-level spells.”

“Fuzzbuckets,” Douxie said yet again, dragging his hand across his weary face. “I don’t suppose you’d go get it for me? I don’t want Master Merlin to miss it if he needs it.” 

“What, and break my spine trying to lug it all the way back here? No thank you. This is your job, Douxie. You do it.” The boy shot Archie an irritated look that was only intensified by the evident exhaustion in his face. A lesser cat would have broken. But Archie had seen an opportunity here, and he intended to exploit it. He held his ground and stared back with blatant defiance. A moment later, Douxie heaved a sigh and shuffled out of the room, unaware that Archie had stood up to follow him the moment he turned away. 

Douxie’s chambers were far less orderly than the study, which was rather impressive, considering they hadn’t been living there for very long. But the floor was already a mess of open spellbooks, hastily-scribbled notes, and various magical bits and bobs to study and observe at a future date. It was almost too easy for Archie to slink into the room at Douxie’s heels and conceal himself amongst the chaos. He crouched behind a stack of books, golden eyes fixed unblinkingly upon his target, waiting for the perfect moment. Douxie rifled around the mess on the floor for a moment, checked inside the writing desk he hardly ever used, then finally noticed the object of his search sitting innocently on the bed, half-covered by a fold of the blanket. Archie tucked his paws beneath him and coiled up like a spring as Douxie approached the bedside. The boy bent down to pick up the book, and that’s when the dragon attacked.

Launching himself into the air at full speed, Archie shifted into his larger reptilian form and slammed into Douxie’s back with his full weight. Weakened and unaware as he was, the young wizard toppled onto the bed with a startled yelp. There was a moment of confused flailing and scuffling, and for one terrifying heartbeat, Archie could feel the tension of defensive magic in the air, as Douxie’s powers flared instinctively. But it was gone a second later, as the boy managed to roll over and see his Familiar perched on his chest, grinning down at him smugly. 

“Really, Arch?!” Douxie barked. “I could have killed you!” 

“Don’t make me laugh,” Archie scoffed. “The worst you could do in this state would be to ruffle my fur.” He settled down on Douxie’s chest and began to knead. 

“Arch, stop it. You’re being an ass.” 

“And you are digging yourself into an early grave,” Archie shot back, never wavering in his kneading. “Do you know how many hours of sleep a boy your age needs?” Douxie opened his mouth to argue, but Archie cut him off. “Nine to eleven hours, on average. Do you know how much sleep you’ve been getting every night since you came here?” Once again, the boy tried to speak, but Archie wouldn’t hear it. “Four to six. You spend all day running around after Merlin, and even when he dismisses you, you won’t keep still, you just go hunting around for more work to do. Your head is so jammed up with magic incantations, it’s a wonder you even remember to breathe sometimes. You are killing yourself, Douxie. And as your Familiar, it is my duty to put an end to it. You are going to lie here in this bed until I say you can get up, and you are going to think of nothing related to Merlin or your apprenticeship while you do.” 

“Archie!” Douxie protested. 

“No arguing. Now keep still.” 

“Archie, you don’t understand!” Douxie’s voice had shifted from annoyed to pleading. “I have to finish my chores. I have to study. I need to do a good job!” There was a moment’s silence as the cat regarded his boy, taking note of the desperation swimming in his sunken hazel eyes. 

“...Why do you feel that way, Douxie?” he asked softly. “Why do you feel like you’re not allowed to rest?” 

“...I....I don’t...” The young wizard fumbled for an answer, eyes darting around the room to avoid meeting Archie’s gaze. 

“Hisirdoux,” he said gently, using a tone of voice that Douxie hadn’t heard from him since he was a small child. “Please talk to me.” Archie felt his boy give in beneath his paws as Douxie let out a long, tired sigh. 

“...I don’t want to go back on the streets, Arch,” he whispered. “I don’t want to go back to hiding who I am.”

“Well, of course not. But what does that have to do with the late nights and the obsessive cleaning?” 

“...I guess....I don’t want Merlin to regret taking me in. Living here in the castle, learning magic from a real Master Wizard, having a real home...It’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of. I don’t want to screw this up. But I do screw things up, all the time. I’ve mislabeled ingredients, spilled ink on one of Merlin’s books--you know, he won’t even let me practice real spells yet because even my magic is full of mistakes. I need to do better. If I can’t do this right, then....what good am I to him?” He paused and took a deep breath. “...I just want to be worth something to him.”

A long, heavy silence followed. Archie had stopped kneading and was staring sadly at Douxie, who looked uncomfortably close to tears after that admission. His poor boy, thrust out of his home and family when he was only eight for something he couldn’t control, rejected by the world, beaten down by poverty, and his only source of love was a little black cat searching for a purpose. And though Douxie put on a brave front, laughed in the face of misfortune, and did his best to carry himself with all the dignity of a true wizard, he was still just a child; a child who had suffered terribly from the unfairness of a cruel world, and was somehow convinced that it was his own fault. 

“Douxie...” Archie began softly. “...I can’t speak for Merlin. I still don’t know what motivated him to rescue you from the knights that day. But I do know that, with as many mistakes as you make, you are good enough for me. I’ve met a great many humans in my time, Hisirdoux, but you were the only one I chose to be mine. And if you are good enough for a dragon-turned-Familiar, then you are certainly good enough for that crusty old windbag. He won’t turn you out simply for being human and making a few mistakes.” Archie laid his head down and tucked it beneath Douxie’s chin. “...I won’t let him.” 

He felt the boy’s breath stutter and heard him swallow thickly. Two scarred, gentle hands came up around Archie and held him close. Douxie’s thumbs stroked absently across his Familiar’s fur as he spoke in a quivering whisper:

“Thanks, Arch.” Archie purred and pushed against Douxie’s chin, his paws resuming their methodical kneading against his chest. Another silence fell upon them, this time a warm and comfortable one. Douxie sniffled once or twice, but his hands were steady as they ran up and down Archie’s back. “...I really should finish organizing the books, though,” he murmured. “I left the study in such a mess.” 

“Now, now, Hisirdoux.” Archie dug his claws into Douxie’s shirt--not enough to hurt, but enough to make his point. “You wouldn’t be cruel enough to turn away a poor, wretched cat that has come to rest upon you, would you?” He shrank back down into his feline form and squinted his golden eyes fondly. 

“No, no, don’t look at me like that. Archie...!” Archie snuggled down against his boy and gave a contented purr that he knew could never be resisted. Douxie gave up with another sigh and closed his eyes in defeat. “Fine. Just for a little bit.” 

*****

“Hisirdoux!” 

Merlin Ambrosius had had many apprentices in the past, but none of them had ever mystified and bewildered him as much as the grubby lad he’d pulled off the streets two weeks ago. The boy was a whirlwind of energy and untempered magic, always hovering at Merlin’s side or bustling around the castle. The old wizard had even resorted to asking some of the castle servants to abandon a few of their chores, just so he would have something to keep the lad occupied and out of his rapidly thinning hair for a few hours. And now after all that, he had returned to his study after a long morning of attending to a very irate Arthur only to find half of his library strewn across the floor, and his newest apprentice nowhere to be seen. 

With an exasperated sigh, Merlin magicked all of the books back into their rightful places (Why were they even out to begin with? Didn’t Hisirdoux reorganize them just yesterday?) and stormed out of the study, already preparing an extensive lecture on the dangers of carelessness and lack of focus for when he found his young ward. A brief scan of the nearby area for magical signatures told him that the boy was currently holed up in his chambers. That was a bit odd. Hisirdoux usually didn’t spend much time there. No matter. Merlin swept down the stairs and through the hallways with the great sense of purpose that only a Master Wizard can achieve, and burst into his pupil’s room without even bothering to knock.

He was immediately greeted by a blast of fire. 

Fortunately, he was able to fling up a magical shield just in time to save himself from what would have been a very nasty burn, but to say that Merlin was displeased by this greeting would have been an understatement. He turned his furious gaze onto the culprit, who was hovering in midair and baring his fangs like a wild beast. 

“Archibald, what is the meaning of--!”

“Shh!” The ungrateful little creature cut him off with a growl. “If you wake him, I swear I will end you.” Merlin looked past him to see Hisirdoux curled up on his bed, sound asleep. 

“What in the name of all things magic is going on here?” Merlin hissed. “Why was my study left in complete disarray, and what is my apprentice doing lazing about in bed in the middle of the afternoon?!”

“Your apprentice,” Archie spat the words out like poison. “is a child. A child who has been working himself to the bone trying to please you. He has been dead on his feet for the last fifteen days, and I was only able to get him to rest through brute force and manipulation, two things which I would rather avoid using on my own Familiar when at all possible. We are grateful for your kindness, but I will not allow you to disturb him now, regardless of the state of your study!” 

Archie had been prepared to drag the Master Wizard from the room by his hair if necessary, so he was rather surprised when Merlin reacted, not with anger, but genuine surprise. 

“...Hisirdoux hasn’t been sleeping?” he queried softly. 

“No,” Archie replied shortly, landing on the floor and staring up at Merlin disdainfully. “He hasn’t.” 

“But why on earth not? I did tell the servants to provide him with a comfortable mattress.” 

“The mattress isn’t the issue. Douxie believes that if he does not make himself useful at all times and do everything perfectly, he will be cast out of the castle.” 

“Who put such madness into his head?” Merlin demanded. “Of course I expect him to earn his keep here, but I never told him to expend himself to the point of exhaustion. And as for perfection, if I had been looking for that, I certainly wouldn’t have gone searching for it in the gutters of Camelot.” 

“...Then may I ask what exactly are your intentions regarding my Familiar?” Archie inquired, narrowing his gaze. 

“I simply wish to help him, Archibald. Nothing more or less.” The cat opened his mouth to reply, but froze as Douxie gave a muffled grunt and shifted in his sleep. The wizard and the Familiar both silently regarded the boy for a moment. “...I suppose the life of a street urchin can dull one’s belief in basic human kindness,” Merlin sighed, a gentle look coming into his normally stern eyes. He looked back at Archie. “When he awakens, please tell him that I have decreed in no uncertain terms that he is in no danger of losing his home here.” 

“I...” Archie fumbled for a response for a moment. “...Yes, of course.” Merlin gave him a curt nod, then looked back at Douxie. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, then he raised his hand and, with a soft pulse of green light, pulled the rumpled blanket across Douxie’s slumbering form. Then he left without another word, closing the door softly behind him. Archie sat where he was for a minute, staring at the closed door as though he could still see the wizard who had disappeared behind it. Then, shifting back into his cat form, he rejoined Douxie on the bed, curling up against the boy’s back. 

Good enough, indeed, he thought. You are more than good enough, Hisirdoux.

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Thirty-Nine

Table of Content or Part Thirty-Eight

Read here on wattpad

Word count: 4K

Warning(s): Explicit language, Drug abuse

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PMRC DEMANDS CENSORSHIP, DEVELOPES A LIST OF THE "FILTHY 15."

1. Prince, "Darling Nikki", flagged for sex/masturbation

2. Sheena Easton, "Sugar Walls", flagged for sex

3. Judas Priest, "Eat Me Alive", flagged for Sex/Violence

4. Vanity, "Strap On Robbie Baby", flagged for sex

5. Mötley Crüe, "Bastard", flagged for violence/language

6. AC/DC, "Let Me Put My Love Into You", flagged for sex

7. Twisted Sister, "We're Not Gonna Take It", flagged for violence

8. Madonna, "Dress You Up", flagged for sex

9. W.A.S.P., "Animal (Fuck Like a Beast)", flagged for sex/language/violence

10. Def Leppard, "High 'n' Dry (Saturday Night)", flagged for drug/alcohol use

11. Mercyful Fate, "Into the Coven", flagged for occult themes

12. Black Sabbath, "Trashed", flagged for drug/alcohol use

13. Mary Jane Girls, "In My House", flagged for sex

14. Venom, "Possessed", flagged for occult themes

15. Cyndi Lauper, "She Bop", flagged for sex/masturbation

Tipper freaking Gore, the wife of the senator at the time, Al Gore, and bunch of other political housewives got their panties in a twist in 1985 and decided to demand artists either censor themselves when creating music, leaving no room for even the slightest hint at sex, drugs, alcohol, satanism, occultism, violence, language, or anything else almost every artist uses one of to express themselves in their music.

When musicians across the board practically told Tipper, the other wives, and everyone else that called themselves a member of the Parents Music Resource Center, to go fuck themselves, they decided to slap censorship stickers on records that contained any of the mentioned offenses.

Even John Denver got hit with censorship for his song "Rocky Mountain High."

It didn't shock me when my mother was photographed with Tipper after attending one of the hearings.

Mötley was invited to a hearing to defend their content and speak their opinions with a handful of others being censored, but they never batted an eye when the news first came out because they knew having an "X" or "XX" or "XXX" rating for violence, language, sex, drugs, alcohol, etc. would only make kids buy the record more. And it did.

"It's bullshit." I state, tossing the news paper article aside.

"It's politics." Fred replies taking a bite of his bagel.

"These womens' sex lives must be atrocious or else they'd be spending more time on their husbands' dicks and less time on these people's." I motion to the article with the list on it.

"Babe--"

"If these polotical lunatics spent as much energy taking care of their own damn kids, as they're spending attempting to villainize artists who're expressing themselves, they would realize that it's not Mötley Crüe's or anyone else's job to raise their children. If you're so scared of your kids trying all this stuff, have a conversation with them about it and tell them about it, honestly, instead of relying on the music they listen to, to properly teach them about it. And at the end of the day, they're gonna buy the record whether their parents want them to or not, and they're going to try all kinds of stuff, no matter who talks to them about it, if they really want to try it." I continue my rant, Fred, Doc, Nikki, Vince, Tommy and Mick all looking at me, waiting for me to be done.

"Are you done, Sister Christian?" Vince asks me and I glare at him.

"Viv, it's publicity. Who gives a fuck?" Nikki asks me. "The kids are gonna go for the nastiest rated album anyway. The more 'X's the better."

"Yeah, but the audacity of--" Tommy's teaching his hand around my shoulder and covering my mouth before I can continue and I look at him where he's beside me.

"I've got a headache. I'm hungover, Viv. I love you, but I don't need to hear a Vivian Bitch Fit right now." Tommy explains to me.

I just look at him like he's lost his mind for shutting me up, and he cautiously moves his hand away.

I give him a ten second reprieve before shouting, at the top of my lungs:

"The audacity of these people pisses me off!" I finish what I was going to say and Tommy and Nikki are both jumping out of their seats a little at the sudden shouting, covering their ears, wincing, before Nikki's looking at me, sharply.

I roll my eyes at him and he grabs roughly at my thigh under the table, uncomfortably sinking the tips of his fingers into my flesh.

Ignoring him, I take a sip of my coffee, as he glances around and stands up.

"I gotta piss." He tells us, but I know why he's going to the bathroom.

I wait for him to disappear past the "Men's Room" sign in the Denny's before I get up and follow after him.

I walk in, catching the tail end of him snorting a line, and I cross my arms, waiting outside of the stall he's in.

I hear the familiar "click" of a needle being uncapped.

"Nikki. It's 10:00 in the morning." I tell him.

"Fuck off."

"Nikki."

"Fuck off."

"Nikk--"

"Fuck off."

"Make me."

I wait for him to come out of the stall and do what I dared him to, but I just hear the sound of him sighing out in relief as opiate hits his system, drowning out whatever argument we were about to get into.

When he didn't want to hear me complain or try to talk him out of stuff, he would run to his favorite room in his mind: his heroin den.

If we were at home, he'd lock himself in the closet, with me begging him to come out.

He'd open the door for me right before passing out so he could at least say he tried.

If we were in public or at a hotel, he'd lock himself in the bathroom and do the same thing.

The sound of vomit smattering the floor has me wincing as he mumbles "fuck it" and opens the stall door, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Don't fuckin' give me that hit dog look." He tells me, moving past me to the sink, splashing some water on his face, smearing his already smeared eyeliner that makes him look like a raccoon that's been digging around in a dumpster.

"I'm not giving you any kind of look." I mumble, forcing him to look at me as I wet a paper towel and wipe his black-coated eyelids clean.

The smell of his vomit infiltrates my nostrils and I throw the paper towel away before pulling at his wrist to leave. 

Being that he's perfected his magical potion, he isn't too jittery from the coke or nodding off from the heroin.

He's just quiet.

We leave Denny's and head straight to the airport to head back home, being they wrapped up the last show of the U.S. tour last night.

Next is Europe.

Once we land in L.A., Christmas music blares through the speakers of the airport and reminds me that it's already nearing the end of December.

Apparently Vince is reading my mind because he mumbles, "apparently time flies when you're in hell."

Amen, Vince. A-fucking-men.

The second Nikki and I get into the limo to take us to our house, he's busting out a vile of blow that's nearly empty.

"Fuck, I gotta get Jason over, asap." He tells himself and I rub my lips together.

"You know, we haven't even bought a Christmas tree since we've been married." I tell him, trying to distract myself from his previous comment.

"Yeah." He says, basically blowing me off and I reach the toe of my sneaker out and nudge him on the kneecap as he gets the tip of our house key and scoops some from the bindle, snorting a bump.

"Babe." I continue to tap his kneecap until he's got his hand around my ankle, loosely, stopping me.

"What, Viv?"

"What did I just say?" I ask him, crossing my arms.

He just blinks at me, smirking a little.

"I'll gladly tell you when I finish this." He holds the bindle up.

I lean forward and take it from him, holding it hostage when he attempts to take it.

"You'll get it back when I get a Christmas tree." I tell him, raising my brows.

"Are you fucking me right now?" He asks, chuckling, not thinking I'm serious.

"No...but now that you mention it, I want that, too. Then you can get it back." I add and he smirks.

By the time we get to a department store, get my clothes back on and his pants zipped back up, grab an artificial tree, lights and ornaments, and finally get to the house, it's nearly one in the morning.

"Okay, Saint Vivian, gimme my shit back." Nikki states, carrying the boxed up tree while I carry the bags of lights and ornaments.

"Put the tree up so I can decorate it and I will." I reply.

"That wasn't apart of the deal." He argues, his tone still light.

"Well now it is." I reply.

"That's cheating."

"I made the deal. I make the rules." I shrug.

"You're making me work for something that's already mine." His free hand pulls at my waist, turning me to him and I grin mischievously as he shakes his head a little. "That's it, Sixx." He tells me before crouching enough to wrap his arm around my thighs and throw me over his shoulder.

I laugh manically, partially out of fear that he'll drop me, but also because this is the Nikki I fell in love with.

Playful, lighthearted, aggravating but meaning well, Nikki.

He manages to dig his house key out again and unlock the door before stepping in and turning on the lights in the foyer.

"Baby, put the bags down for now." He tells me and I drop them as carefully as I can while he puts the box the tree is in, down.

He's walking us to the living room, laughing when he pretends to trip and I gasp, digging my nails into him like a cat holding onto its owner to avoid a bathtub full of water.

When he flips the next light on, he stops immediately.

My mind is in shambles for a moment as I try to put together why so many people are in my house once Nikki's nearly dropping me out of shock, not even hearing them all scream out, "surprise!"

Steven and Tansy are at the forefront of people as the explosion of glitter, a mixture of neon and pastel decor, an abundance of various alcohol options, scantily clad women, a handful of Nikki's friends he hangs out with outside of Mötley Crüe, and a big ass, two-tier cake with every curse word known to man written in pristine is cursive font on the sides of it is soaked in by mine and Nikki's eyes.

Steven's wearing a beer hat, smiling widely, while Tansy looks like a sallow Barbie doll, but she's still forcing out a grin for the sake of us, and everyone's waiting for mine and Nikki's reactions.

Nikki and I exchange looks, confused as ever.

"Why is it a surprise?" I finally ask, deciding it's best if I ask instead of Nikki, because all he wanted to do was come in, shoot up, have a few lines, fuck around with me some more, and pass out.

But instead he's being forced to socialize in his own house.

His safe place has been infested.

Steven and Tansy seem horrified that we don't understand the reason for the apparent party.

"...Because it's your birthday?" Tansy reminds me.

"And Nikki's was a couple weeks ago, but he wasn't here to celebrate it." Steven adds, his smile is long gone, his eyes focused on Nikki who looks like he could kill someone right now.

"Oh, right!" I pretend that I know that it's my birthday today, and everyone seems to let out a breath of relief. "It's been a long day." I explain, stepping to the two blondes, hugging them both tightly. "Thank you so much."

While everyone else starts going on with the party, music starting to blare throughout the house on the stereo speakers, cracking open beer, whiskey, and vodka, as girls strip down to bikinis to go swimming, Nikki's still standing at the door, the look on his face is a mixture or pissed off, disappointed, and "I need another dose."

"Babe." I say gently to grab his attention, hazel eyes looking to me as a jaw tightens. "C'mon, just for a couple hours."

"I'll be right back." He tells me, shoving through people to get to our bedroom.

I brush off his attitude the second I feel hands on my shoulders, squeezing them a little and I snap around to meet Duff's chest.

"Hey, birthday girl." He greets me cooly, and I'm hugging him before I can stop myself.

Something wet falls on my hand when I pull away, and just as I'm about to look around for whatever it was, his fingers that are sticking out of leather gloves that just cover his palms, are brushing at my face.

"What's up?" He asks me, furrowing his brows a little.

What is up? Why the hell are you crying?

"I-I'm happy." Is all I can say, chuckling, wiping more tears.

He knew it was bullshit. I was happy, sure. Happy to get the fuck off the road. Happy to get a break from Nikki and Tommy harassing Vince. Happy to get away from Doc's constant pressing for more tour dates to milk as much money as possible. Happy to be able to hangout with balls of optimism and sunshine like Duff and Steven and have Slash show me his pet snakes like he'd been meaning to, and for Izzy to tell me what music I should have been listening to, and for Axl to go on and on about Tansy but then completely deny he was interested in her because he was too much of a dork to just ask her out.

"I'll be right back, alright?" I tell Duff, looking around to see Nikki's nowhere to be seen.

"Okay." He tells me, swigging from a bottle of vodka.

I thread through people who tell me "happy birthday" and I thank each of them, genuinely, before opening up the bedroom door, and shutting it behind me, stepping to our bathroom.

"Baby?" I ask, seeing Nikki standing at the mirror, teasing his hair some more. "I had no idea they would do this." I tell him.

"I had no fucking idea it was even your birthday, apparently." He grumbles. "Shows how much I care, right? Husband of the year. Something else to be hung over my head anytime we get into a fight." 

"Hey, I didn't even know it was my birthday. The guys didn't either. You've all been busy and working hard and tired. I'm not going to hold this over you, Nikki." I assure him, fixing a piece of his hair for him.

I didn't realize his pride was so hurt by the gesture Steven and Tansy made.

I found out later it was Duff who brought up the idea to Tansy, who recruited the Ken to her Barbie: Steven, to help her orchestrate it.

That was another indication to Nikki that he needed to slow down, forgetting his own wife's birthday, but he didn't listen to it a bit.

"I really don't want to do this shit, Vivian." He tells me, rubbing his eyes.

"And I do?"

"They're your friends." He sighs.

"What's mine is your's." I say as I kiss his cheek and he groans.

"You owe me." He tells me as I step out of the bathroom. "Matter of fact, I want my coke back."

"Um, I can't hear you, babe. I'm sure I will when these people leave." I tell him.

"Viv--"

"I-I think you're breaking up, I'll talk to you later." I keep going, walking to the bedroom door.

"I'll break something up when these people get the fuck outta my house!" He calls back and I shut the door behind me.

The night goes on as people play beer pong on the dining room table, dance on whatever and whoever they can, snort lines off any flat surface available, and chug whatever is in their cups, drowning pain and becoming oblivious.

I hate to break it to Nikki, but I don't want these people driving in their condition, so they'll have to stay here tonight or call cabs.

After a few hours, people are either pairing off or grouping off to go get laid, passed out, or too high to function properly and are just chilling out.

Steven's observing his work, drinking from his beer cans perched in his hat when I approach him, looking for Duff.

"Have you seen Duff?" I say over the music and he nods.

"Yeah, I think he's by the pool." He tells me.

"The pool?"

"Yep."

I furrow my brows, stepping to the French doors leading outside, seeing Duff and Tansy sitting down on the pool deck, talking

"Is he pissed?" She asks me, referring to Nikki, after I sit next to her.

"I would say go see for yourself but I don't want to toss you into the lion's den." I admit. "He hasn't come out all night."

"I'll go talk to him." She says. "If he's mean to me I'll just cry and make him feel bad like I do to Vince."

Duff and I exchange looks at her confident words before she's walking away in her neon pink bikini.

"Everyone calming down?" Duff asks in a slur, and I nod, glancing through the doors to look at the guests for a few seconds. "How does it feel to be twenty-two?" He adds, rubbing his nose and I raise my brows a little, glancing at the bottle of vodka he's been working on all night.

"It's weird." I mumble. "I was a senior in high school five years ago." The reality hits me and he raises his brows. "God, I'm old."

"You were seventeen your senior year?"

"In pre-k my teacher decided I was too smart for the class and vouched for me to be moved up to kindergarten, and it didn't take my kindergarten teacher long to convince the principle of the elementary school to let me start in the first grade since they hadn't really started in on their curriculum for the year." I explain.

"I couldn't even meet the basic requirements of alternative school." He tells me.

"You're a freaking genius, you just didn't apply yourself." I tell him and he shrugs.

"I had more important things to get done.

"I guess you did." I agree, gently scoring the bottle of alcohol away from him.

"I know you're tired of me saying this, but, Viv, you gotta get back to dancing."

"Yeah?" I ask.

"Yeah. I mean, imagine me giving up music for someone I'm in a relationship with so I can hold their hand or fucking babysit them or whatever. I mean, sure it shows I love them a lot, but it would just make who ever I was with look like a fucking bitch. And I've talked to Nikki before and he told me he didn't want you to quit dance and he wanted you to go to school." He explains. "Why didn't you?"

"I had more important things to get done." I repeat him.

"I don't know if you're selfless sometimes, or just not thinking." He says, before his face suddenly falls. "I sound like an asshole right now, I'm sorry." He apologizes and I shake my head.

"I'm not upset, I know what you mean." I assure him.

"Okay." He rubs his eyes again like a sleepy child.

"Do you need me to help you to bed?" I offer and he waves his hand at me a couple times.

"No, no, I got it." He assures me, standing up.

He nearly falls over.

"Yeah, I'm sure you do." I comment, helping him inside as he apologizes.

"I'm sorry I'm being out of hand right now, Viv, I don't get like this every night." He tells me as I open our guest bedroom and thank God nobody's in here, although it's obvious someone has been screwed to oblivion on the bed.

I just throw the blanket on the edge of the bed over the mattress and help him lay down.

"Thank you." He says as I pull his boots off and set them nice and neat on the floor at the foot of his bed.

"You're welcome." I reply, setting the garbage can beside him incase he needs it. "Goodnight."

I'm about to leave, but his hand gently grasps at my hand, stopping me.

"What is it?" I ask him.

"I'm really glad we met and we're friends, Viv." He tells me, grasping my hand in his like I'm going to walk out anyway and not listen to what he's got to say.

"I am, too, Duff." I say back, smiling a little. "Sleep tight, okay?"

"Yeah." He nods his head.

"Alright, goodnight."

I go to kiss him "goodnight" on the cheek, but my entire system and body locks up the second he misreads my intentions, and kisses me.

This sounds so counteractive to who I am now and what I stand for currently, and it was ignorant of me to think such a way back then, when so many people close to me were heavily affected, some of them even dying, by drugs and alcohol...but I use to wish I liked alcohol or drugs, or even felt drawn to them.

By '87 I'd had several miscarriages, my marriage was hanging by a thread after only being married for four years, I was having an identity crisis and my entire world was seeming to fall apart and it became routine to buy a bottle of vodka or whiskey, or pills, or blow and just stare at it--trying to convince myself to go for it--for an hour before pouring it out or flushing it.

The people around me, which by that point was mainly Duff and his band, started to pick up on this struggle I had. And although they knew I had to be in some kind of extreme pain to be considering reaching such lows, they carried an "if you don't laugh about it, you'll cry" method of pulling me out of such spells.

Anytime we would be hanging out and I'd opt to try something they were doing, they would call it the "Golden Question Game" because the "Golden Question" was always "is Vivian actually gonna do it this time?" and they wouldn't argue with me about it or try to stop me because they knew the answer would always be "no" even if I didn't think it would be.

I even made the reckless suggestion to try heroin, and got as far as Izzy getting it in the syringe for me, trying to explain to me how to shoot it, how to angle it, how to know I'd hit a vein, with Steven, Slash and Duff all waiting to see if I was that desperate for an escape.

Like everything else I would think about doing, I just sat on the floor next to Izzy and stared at the golden liquid in the syringe and thought, "who the fuck are you to get pissed and angry at Nikki and Tansy for their addiction to this shit, and how it's destroying them, and then turn around and do it yourself?"

I shot it into the air away from me, handed the empty syringe back Izzy, thanked him for letting me waste his time and dose of smack, went to the bathroom with Duff at my heels, and cried.

I never went through with any of it because I knew I would never, ever, come back from it.

I would've drank myself to death or drugged myself past the point of no return and would have ended up a statistic.

I just needed a new escape because my original high became a heroin addict, and December 23, 1985, had me realizing more about Duff than what I had noticed before: Vodka was a hell of a lot easier to be around than heroin.

[darlingpetao3]

Seducing the Gem (Nash Wells x Reader, Chapter 2/9)

Rating: M (Smut in Chapter 6 only)

Summary: When a mysterious package shows up at your front door, you (a famous Romance novelist) are hurtled from your virtually uneventful life and into one of danger and adventure. In a quest to save your captured friend Caitlin from impending harm, you run into a suave adventurer named Nash who helps you along the way. Or is the charming Nash simply after something in your possession…?

Chapter 1

You never want to travel by air again after this.

So many cumulative hours on a plane, layovers, and don’t forget that brutal time change. Jet lag is the real bitch, hands down.

You weren’t supposed to tell anyone about what’s happening with Caitlin (and even you don’t know the full extent of it, other than she’s being held for ransom and you have to deliver a weird piece of tech to these criminals?), but you felt an obligation to tell Iris. You were all friends, after all, and she should know. Plus, you figured you should tell your boss before she quite possibly never heard from you again.

Needless to say, she freaked out when you told her the gist.

“What do you mean Cailtin’s in trouble? And you’re going where?!”

“I can’t tell you any more than that, Iris, just please keep this all to yourself!”

Iris had promised you as much and even saw you to the airport in a flash.

And yes, you may be reaching your final landing, and it may have to do with your def-con one anxiety flaring up, but you’ve had this nagging little feeling that you have constantly been watched throughout your neverending travels. But of course, who wouldn’t feel a certain level of delusion after losing track of how many hours you’ve been awake?

Wearily, you grab your luggage and attempt to follow the signs to where you might find transportation to the hotel. It’s almost like you need to gain your “land-legs” again after flying for so long. And why is there so much yelling from one man? He sounds American, angry and gruff to boot, so you try to stay clear of him and avoid eye contact.

Now, where are the-?

“Oof.” You walk directly into a towering brick of a man who looks like a real-life G.I. Joe action figure.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” he apologizes in a familiar accent. Another American. “Are you alright?”

“Oh yes, yes, I’m sorry, I’m not fully with it right now,” you reply awkwardly. “Do you happen to know where the buses or cabs pull up? I need to get to Pullman Kinshasa Grand Hotel. It’s urgent.”

“Ah, the Pullman!” the silver-haired man exclaims happily. “I’m headed there as well. My wife is here on business and I’ve flown in to surprise her. I rented a vehicle, would you be interested in hitching a ride?”

Honestly, it would save your brain and legs a whole lot of trouble otherwise.

“If you don’t mind? That would be absolutely wonderful,” you exhale in relief. “Thank you so much… I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name?” You offer yours first.

“You can call me Wade,” he tells you with a smile, “now, let’s get you safely out of here.”

***

You don’t remember falling asleep.

Surely, it couldn’t have been for very long. After all, the hotel wasn’t supposed to be too far from the airport. But why did it seem like you were on a jungle road when you should see more buildings…?

Stretching, you yawn and ask, “I wasn’t out long, was I?”

“No, no, not long at all,” Wade replies while keeping his eyes on the road. You continue to look around, feeling the kindling of nerves starting to surface.

“So, uh… how much further until we reach the hotel?”

“Not much longer now.”

A few minutes later and you’re still travelling through the jungle and now the bad feelings are flooding you even though you’re trying your damnedest not to let it show. Where are we going? Who the hell did I get in a car with? Like hell were you going to get taken to a secondary location. You’ve written plenty of those stories before.

“Hey, do you mind pulling over for a minute?” you ask casually. “I didn’t go to the bathroom after landing. It’s pretty urgent.”

“Can’t hold it?” Wade questions you. “Otherwise, you’ll have to just go behind a tree.”

“I’m afraid I can’t wait,” you fake grimace. God, you hope you can get out of whatever this frightening situation is.

“Alright then, be quick,” he says gruffly, but adds overenthusiastically, “luxury awaits!”

You laugh while getting out of the car, and hope it passes for a genuine one.

“You need your backpack with you for this?” Wade comments. Your heart races in fear.

“Oh yeah, well, you know… feminine products.”

After shutting the car door, you plan to make a run for it in five seconds, but the sound of another slammed door echoes along with one of a cocked gun. It’s aimed directly at you.

You’re frozen in place - alone, with an armed man in a jungle with no one else in sight.

Well, fuck.

“Hand over the bag, Miss (Y/L/N),” Wade orders you. “You have no idea what you have in there.”

Yes, you do. It’s the key to saving Caitlin. You hug your purse closer to your chest.

Also, you don’t recall giving him your last name…

Who is this man?

“Hand. It. Over.” Wade takes a step closer, and just when you think you’re about to meet your end, you hear a little beep beep noise. A man on a motorbike approaches and thank the universe there will at least be a witness to your death.

“What’s going on here?” the mystery man asks after stepping off his bike and removing his full-face helmet. You don’t even have time to register the attractive face appear into your vision because a gunshot rings out amongst the trees. The next thing you knew, the tire on Mystery Man’s motorbike lets out a long hiss. The man raises his hands in surrender, but in the blink of an eye, he pulls out his own gun that he must have hidden on his hip under his jacket. He shoots at Wade in retaliation and you hit the ground, crawling to get behind the closest tree or bush.

Why did a freaking shootout have to happen right in front of me? Why?!

As one might expect, you were more awake than you’d ever been.

Mystery Man reloads and takes another shot at Wade, who makes a mad dash behind the hood of his car, then manages to hop into the driver’s side. He peels away, barrelling down the jungle road. Only once the sound of the vehicle disappears can you hear the sound of your heart pounding in your ears.

It gets even louder when you hear footsteps grow closer to where you’re crouched behind a bush. A face pops around.

“Hi, there,” Mystery Man greets you.

“Hi,” you peep.

“You doing alright?” he asks.

“I’d be better if you put your gun away.” He makes an understanding noise and does so, then offers a hand to help you up. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. The name’s Nash.”

Whoa, his eyes are insane. You feel the need to avert your own eyes with the speed in which this Nash guy drew his gun earlier. They’re the soul-piercing kind.

“I’m (Y/N),” you reply, rustling in your pocket for your phone when he starts to talk again.

“So, I have to ask, what in the hell brings you out here with that guy?”

You check your phone and naturally, there’s no signal. You need to call the hotel, get ahold of Caitlin, something.

“Listen,” you say, “I’d rather just try to forget all that. I need you to tell me how to get to Kinshasa. It’s a matter of life and death.”

“Darling,” Nash laughs, “you are hell and gone from Kinshasa! It’s over that way, on the coast.”

Wait, what?

“But that man,” you say, unable to comprehend, “Wade, he said…”

“Yeah, I bet he did.” Something on Nash’s arm - a gauntlet or something - beeps and lights up when he takes a step closer to you.

“What was that?” you ask.

“Don’t worry about it. ...What else did he tell you?”

You leave out the weirdness about Wade seeming to know who you were and you having that GPS device Ronnie sent you in your purse.

“Please,” you beg, “I need your help.”

“I don’t know h-”

“I will pay you!” you add in desperation.

“It’s just that-”

“Everything I have on me, you’ll get!”

Nash raises an eyebrow in curiosity, then laughs. “Relax, okay?” He rests his hands on your shoulders. You feel the weight and size of them on you. You’re happy Nash is on your side and not Wade’s. “The only issue is that my bike is flat,” he explains. “We’ll have to walk.”

You sigh. “Okay.”

“But I can tell you this: you’re going to regret carrying that backpack through this humid heat for miles. You’ll have to ditch it.”

“But I-!” you protest but stop. Sometimes it really sucks being a material girl. Thanks, Madonna. You leave your luggage behind, but you make sure to take your purse and strap it over your shoulder.

“I look forward to getting my hands all over everything on you,” Nash says playfully with a wink.

How dare he! You are having a crisis! You were just held at gunpoint - now is not the time for trying anything!

“Listen, buddy,” you tell him, “I don’t know who you think you are but don’t even think about it.” You start walking away from him, but he calls after you.

“Uh, Princess? Kinshasa’s this way.”

You spin around and shoot him a death glare. That treacherous eyebrow makes a reappearance.

“You know what you are? You’re a cocky bastard!” you exclaim before walking past him on the correct path to Kinshasa.

He laughs again. Damn him having a beautiful laugh, too.

[blissedoutphil]

Dan’s Purpose

When I first watched actual phan say this, my first thought was “wow im def gonna write lotsa smut about this” but somehow I ended up with....this? A smut blog writing angst?? What happened here :x

But I hope you enjoy my first attempt at (almost) non-smut!! Do give me feedback, like if I should just stick to smut or something lmao bc I honestly dont know if this is any good

EDIT: THANK YOU for voting for this fic in the phanficawards!! It's won third place in the Undiscovered Gem category :) thank you for motivating me and helping me every time I doubt my writing <33

4428 words of neko!dan, owner!Phil, angst, a lil fluff, mentions of smut, grinding, punishment

or read on ao3!

Dan is Phil’s good little kitten. He’s proud of it. He loves it when his Master shows him off to people, loves it when his Master is proud of owning him. He knows he’s lucky to have Phil, especially since he could’ve ended up with anyone in this world, and there are many horrible, awful people out there.

Phil was fair, he was kind. He didn’t abuse his power like so many people did to nekos. He keeps Dan safe and he makes Dan feel loved. Phil treats Dan like a princess, always spoiling him.

Technically Dan was still Phil’s slave. No matter how nicely Phil treats him, he can’t escape from his fate in this world where nekos were just born, bred and sold to serve. Few lucky ones out there got training to serve in better jobs, but most nekos were just sold as pleasure slaves. Dan spent years afraid of being sold to someone nasty. He may not have been lucky enough to get training for a better job, but at least he was lucky enough to be sold to Phil. At least he wasn’t like some of the most unfortunate nekos who had no home and were just left on the street, vulnerable to anyone who mean harm.

When Dan first met Phil at 16, he had expected the worst. Phil was so tall and Dan barely reached his shoulders. He was terrified of Phil and he’d expected to be used immediately by the man 5 years older, but Phil barely touched him. Phil was caring and careful. He made the effort to earn Dan’s trust. He knew how nekos were generally treated terribly, especially since he grew up with one mistreated by his own family. He might have decided to buy a neko only to prove to himself that he wasn’t like his family. It took a while, but Dan warmed up to him soon enough.

And Dan learned that sex wasn’t always painful and scary like the nekos he’d met described. Phil was so gentle with him, he paid attention to Dan’s needs and he never made Dan do anything he was uncomfortable with. As a natural submissive, Dan discovered that he actually enjoyed pleasuring Phil. Soon he realised that he wanted to serve his owner - sexually or not. It was something he never thought was possible before being owned.

Phil did set rules and tasks, although he was lenient with them. Dan obeys them like the good cat he was. Simple things for Dan’s sake, really, like eating healthy, exercising, helping out with chores around the house, and no humping against furniture. Phil would only discipline him if he broke any rule or disobeyed him, but it was a rare occasion.

Dan loves it when his Master shows him off to people, but not this time. Adam crouched down to scritch the back of his ear, but Dan only flattened his ears. He wanted to hiss at Adam to shoo him away, but he knew his Master wouldn’t appreciate that. Dan was hiding under the office table, and with his back pressed against the wall, he realised it was a bad hiding spot.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into him today, he’s usually not that shy,” Phil spoke, addressing Adam who was standing back up.

When Adam left the room, Phil crouched down to have a proper look at Dan. “What’s wrong, pet?”

“Nothing...” Dan mumbled, “just. You didn’t warn me that we were gonna have company today.”

“Sorry about that, I’ll explain later, alright?” Phil said before hurrying out.

Technically, Dan was still Phil’s slave. He should be doing what Phil wants him to, should know what was expected of him even without verbal commands. In that moment, he was expected to greet this Adam guy politely. He knew that was what Phil wanted him to do. But Dan also knew that Phil wasn’t like normal neko slave owners. He wouldn’t get into trouble for acting against his owner’s wishes.

Although he never knew about this Adam guy before today, Dan just didn’t like him. He wasn’t even sure why, because the guy honestly seemed like a nice person. Phil won’t hang out with neko abusers, and he certainly won’t introduce such people to his beloved neko. So Dan knew that Adam was a nice guy. But still he couldn’t help feeling uneasy about him.

Perhaps it was the way Dan saw them entering the apartment, all huddled up together. Perhaps it was the way Phil smiled at Adam, a smile that made the corners of his eyes crinkle that usually, only Dan caused. Something about these little things made Dan’s stomach drop.

Dan quietly crawled and peeked around the office door in time to see Adam leaving. When he saw Adam kiss Phil goodbye, his heart stopped and that was when he knew he was in trouble.

Later that night, Phil was hugging Dan close in bed as they always do when they went to sleep.

“I didn’t plan for Adam to visit us tonight, sorry about that. We were just caught up in rain and we were only 2 blocks away from here, so I decided to bring him back for some warmth while waiting for the rain to stop before he could go home,” Phil stroked Dan’s curls as he spoke, and Dan’s ears perked up, listening intently.

“I’ve never heard of Adam before,” Dan muttered. Phil told him everything, his owner barely had any friends. Phil chuckled sheepishly.

“Yeah sorry bout that too. I’ve been seeing Adam for almost 3 weeks now? I never told you because I didn’t know if it was going to be a serious thing or just like a fling. But I think we might actually get serious.”

Phil was smiling now, a dreamy look on his face. He hadn’t had a partner in ages. He’d been single since before he bought Dan, and Dan’s been with him for 4 years. Dan knew this, so he should be happy for his owner. He really should.

But.

But he couldn’t stop the sinking feeling in his chest. He received lots of training at the neko centre on how to be a proper slave for his owner. How to serve and how to provide pleasure. But he was never taught on how to deal with heartache. Because who would think that a neko would fall in love with their owner?

Dan was in trouble.

Dan wasn’t stupid. He knew this day would come. Of course Phil would finally find someone one day. How could he not? Such a charming, positive and loving guy would surely win someone’s heart soon enough. And of course he wouldn’t expect a human to fall in love with a neko. Yes, he knows that Phil loves him, but not that way. So naturally, he shouldn’t fall in love with a human either.

Except.

Except Dan was stupid. How could anyone fall in love with someone who bought them? Someone he was technically a slave for? But then again, could he be blamed for falling for Phil? The only person in his life who ever showed care for him? Someone who treats him with respect despite their status? Dan was in love and he was stupid.

He was also silent for a bit too long. Phil was looking at him now, and he cleared his throat awkwardly.

“That’s. That’s great, Sir,” he said softly, avoiding eye contact.

Phil either didn’t notice anything wrong or he didn’t want to mention it because he kissed Dan goodnight and that was the end of the conversation.

Since then, Phil started coming home late. Once, he even spent the night at Adam’s and forgot to inform Dan, leaving Dan to sleep alone confused and worried.

The couple stumbled into the apartment late one night, and Dan caught a glimpse of Adam pushing Phil against the door as soon as it closed, the two of them urgently making out. Dan retreated to the office, he couldn’t bear to hear or watch them.

When he was too tired to stay up any longer, he went to the bedroom only to find the door closed, and sounds of sex coming from the other side of the door. Dan sighed and waited by the corridor.

Soon enough the sounds stopped. Dan’s ears were flattened, trying to drown them out. He felt dirty and wrong for hearing them. Perhaps even jealous, but he would never admit that. He waited for Phil to come out and look for him to go to sleep together. Silently hoped that Adam would leave. But time passed and the silence dragged on.

If Adam can satisfy Phil’s sexual needs then...what was Dan’s purpose there anymore? If Adam was now here to keep Phil company, was Dan still needed?

Technically, Dan was Phil’s slave. His purpose was to serve Phil sexually and satisfy his needs and wants. Phil was a lonely guy who needed company when he bought Dan. But if his needs and desires were being met by someone else...Dan was of no use.

His chest began heaving and tears slipped down his cheeks. He considered knocking on the door; even if he couldn’t sleep in bed with Phil, his cat bed was next to Phil’s bed. But he quickly decided against it, Phil was probably asleep already and who was Dan to disturb his Master’s rest?

He tried to stand to go to the lounge and sleep on the sofa, but his limbs felt heavy and he suddenly had no energy to move. He felt out of breath and he couldn’t stop trembling. Nekos who weren’t needed by their owners usually had two fates - either be sold to someone else or just abandoned. Was Phil as exceptional as Dan had thought all this time, or will he be just like any other neko owner out there?

Dan hiccuped and willed himself to shut his brain up and just go to sleep.

It was Adam who saw Dan first the next morning when he opened the bedroom door. Dan woke with a startle when the door swung open, losing his balance as he was curled up against the door.

“Oh! Dan, good morning,” Adam chirped, too enthusiastic in the early hours of the day for Dan’s liking.

Dan didn’t reply, only curled his tail around himself and shied away from the door. He heard Phil exclaim from inside the room, then heard Phil’s footsteps rushing to the door. Dan wanted to hide. He looked pitiful, with his swollen eyes and dried tear tracks down his face.

“Oh I’m so sorry I forgot to let you in, pet,” Phil apologised sincerely, crouching down to Dan.

“It’s okay,” Dan mumbled.

He felt like crying again, how pathetic. He tried his best to keep his composure and quickly went to the bathroom to wash up.

When Dan was done showering and changing, he went to the kitchen and found that Adam had cooked them breakfast. His tail hung between his legs. That was another thing he was meant to do. Adam was replacing him in every way and it was crushing him.

“Dan! Adam made us pancakes, come have some,” Phil gestured to the stack of pancakes on the kitchen table.

It smelled so good, but one look at Adam happily eating next to Phil and Dan’s appetite was gone.

“Not hungry,” Dan simply said and started to retreat from the kitchen.

“Dan, it’s not good to skip breakfast,” Phil’s voice was stern, he always placed importance on Dan’s eating habits.

Dan exhaled shakily, how stupid of him to deny his Master’s requests. Then again, if he was going to be disowned soon anyway, what’s the point of following orders? He steadied his breathing and walked out of the kitchen, ignoring Phil’s confused look.

After breakfast, Adam finally left and Phil took the opportunity to ask Dan about his behaviour earlier.

“Don’t lie to me, Dan. I can tell you only didn’t want to eat because breakfast was made by Adam, isn’t that right?” Phil asked, but he didn’t sound angry, just upset.

Dan didn’t want to admit that he could be so easily read by Phil, so he pawed at his tail nervously.

“Don’t you want to show Adam that you’re my good kitty?” Phil continued.

Dan frowned, how could Phil try to make him feel guilty like it was his fault that Adam was doing all his work now.

When Phil was met with silence again, he sighed. “I don’t know what you want when you don’t even want to talk to me. I have to go,” he got up and left the house, leaving Dan feeling absolutely hurt because Phil didn’t even kiss him goodbye like he always did before going to work.

Dan had a good cry and a great nap afterwards. In his nap, he dreamt of the last time he had sex with Phil. Phil had rimmed him slow and sweet, turning him into a moaning mess before fucking him gently, lovingly.

He was just about to get to the good part where Phil sucked him off while he came, but he suddenly woke up, panting and with a hard on.

Great. Dan groaned, he didn’t know when Phil was coming back since he never seemed to care to update Dan anymore, so he didn’t know how long he’d have to wait to get some relief from Phil. He thought about his dream and felt a mix of anger and lust. It’s been a month since they last had sex. A month since he got an orgasm, which is the longest he ever went without an orgasm since he moved in with Phil.

Then Dan got an idea. He already broke a rule in the morning, breaking another wouldn’t hurt. It’s not like Phil would find out anyway. Dan got out of bed and rushed to the couch in the lounge.

Perfect. It’s always been his favourite place to grind against until Phil placed the rule. The armrest especially gave the perfect amount of friction he needed. He hurriedly pushed his pants down and began humping the side of the couch.

It felt so good, he didn’t even care that he was breaking a rule. So what if he was? Phil doesn’t need him anymore. He’d be thrown out either way, so he should at least get some relief before meeting his fate.

Dan moved his hips urgently, feeling orgasm pool inside him. But tears suddenly blurred his vision as his thoughts drifted to Phil. This is all your fault, he thought. So stupid for falling for your owner. What kind of freak. Your fault, breaking your own heart like this. Now you gotta resort to humping against the couch for pleasure. Fucking pathetic.

Phil found Dan humping the couch. What on earth? First he refused to eat, now this? Breaking two rules in one day isn’t like Dan at all.

“Your fault, this is your own fault,” Dan kept muttering between sniffles, hips thrusting randomly even though he’d already come. It wasn’t even a satisfying orgasm, he was too caught up in his thoughts. He didn’t hear Phil enter the room either.

“Dan!” Phil shouted, and Dan stumbled away from the couch in surprise.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” Phil scolded.

Dan responded with a sob. He looked downright miserable, with his ears turned down and his tail limp behind him. Phil shook his head in disapproval.

“Don’t think looking like that will gain you sympathy points,” Phil reprimanded, “So are you going to explain to me why you’re misbehaving so much today?”

Dan looked at the floor. It was hard enough to accept the fact that he was no longer valuable in this place, why did Phil have to make him say it?

“It’s been a month since I got off,” he weakly argued instead.

“Well then you could’ve asked me to help you out!” Phil said exasperatedly.

“Pfft, as if you would,” Dan huffed.

Phil’s eyes widened in disbelief at what he heard.

“I’ve had it with your attitude today, Daniel,” he growled, “I let you off without a punishment this morning, but looks like I shouldn’t have.” 

Phil grabbed Dan’s arm, ignoring his yelp of protest. Dan sobbed loudly as he was dragged into the bedroom. Phil pulled out his cage from the closet and Dan whimpered at the sight of it. He could count the number of times he’d been in there with only one hand because he was a good neko who rarely got punished. But he hated the times he’d spent in there.

“You’re going to stay in here until you’ve come back to your senses, and until you finally decide to properly talk to me,” Phil stated.

Phil tutted when Dan looked up at him with wide, pleading eyes. “Honestly, what’s gotten in to you, Dan? I come back early from work to get ready for my one month anniversary dinner with Adam but now I gotta waste time cleaning your cum off the furniture!”

Phil pointed at the cage, and Dan’s shoulders drooped in defeat. There was no point in arguing. Dan started to feel guilty for his actions, ruining his Master’s anniversary in such an unpleasant way. His Master was a good man who didn’t deserve him, no matter how much Dan loved him. He wasn’t cruel, he was only trying to discipline him. So, Dan crawled into the cage with his tail hung between his legs.

Phil locked the cage. It was big enough for Dan to sit up and lay curled up. Phil was nice enough to always include a bowl of water and a small pillow and blanket in there.

Muttering in annoyance, Phil left the room to clean Dan’s mess. He then came back to get dressed for his dinner, never once looking at Dan despite his whining and whimpering. He left without a word, and Dan was surprised to find that he still hadn’t run out of tears.

Dan didn’t expect Phil to come home soon, in fact he was prepared for Phil to spend the night at Adam’s. It was obviously the better option than bringing Adam back here to see a miserable, useless neko in the room. But Dan told himself that he deserved it. He deserved having to spend the night in the cage, deserved being abandoned, deserved everything for being so naive and careless by falling for his owner.

After spending the night trying not to drown in all his negative thoughts and failing, he finally exhausted himself enough to go to sleep. His rest was short-lived however, as Phil actually returned a while later.

He quickly sat back up when he heard footsteps padding towards the room. He listened for a second pair of footsteps, but it seemed like Phil was alone.

He squinted when the lights were turned on, and blinked as he looked up. Phil was staring at him from the doorway, and Dan’s heart ached when he saw the look of disappointment on Phil’s face.

“I’ll have you know,” Phil talked lowly as he approached Dan, “Adam invited me over to his place after dinner but I could never leave you overnight like this.”

Dan didn’t understand. Why, why would Phil rather go back to a dumb neko than spend his anniversary night at his partner’s place? But his heart ached further at the knowledge that Phil actually cared enough to come back for him. He was a merciful Master who wouldn’t leave his pet in a cage for even a night, even though it was common to let nekos spend their whole sad lives caged up. Dan whimpered, Phil was making it harder for him to leave this privileged life and start a new one with some heartless owner.

Phil crouched down to be eye level with Dan. “You ready to talk to me now?” he questioned.

Dan nodded pitifully, sniffling. Phil unlocked the cage, but Dan didn’t move. He remained sat cross legged near the entrance. He did start speaking, though.

“Why?”

“Why what?” Phil asked. When he saw that Dan wasn’t going to move, he sat cross legged at the cage door, facing Dan.

“Why’d you come back when- when you could’ve spent the night with your. Your boyfriend? Why d-do you still care about me? Y-you’re making it harder for me!” Dan stuttered, unable to stop himself from crying again.

“Harder for you? I don’t understand, Dan. Of course I still care about you,” Phil spoke softly, brows furrowed in confusion. He wanted to hug Dan, but Dan didn’t look like he wanted any physical contact in that moment.

“Stop,” Dan sniffled, “just st-stop pretending already, I know I’m. I’m just a slave and. I’m a useless one and- and. Does no one want to buy me? Is that why? Nobody wants to take me off your hands?”

Phil was stunned by what he just heard. “Dan...” he began, but Dan wasn’t finished.

“I’m sorry, Master,” he stopped crying; it was easy when he finally accepted his fate, “Sorry because I tried to be a good pet for you, but I wasn’t good enough. Sorry I’m just wasting your space and time here now. Sorry for making you care for me even though you don’t need me anymore.”

“Dan-”

“I’m sorry you have to spend your anniversary night here, with a lousy neko. I should spend the night in the cage, it’s what I deserve,” Dan continued, speaking so fast he lost his breath.

He paused and looked up into Phil’s eyes, and was surprised to see that Phil was tearing up.

“Dan,” Phil shook his head and gently placed his hand on Dan’s shoulder, “listen here. I love you, Dan. Okay, it may not be the same way I love Adam, but I still love and care for you so much. You are still more important to me than he is, even if it’s our anniversary. You think you’re being replaced by Adam? No, honey, no. You’ll never be replaced, I’ll never sell you off, understand?”

Phil stroked Dan’s cheek, and the touch calmed Dan slightly as he leaned into it.

“And you don’t deserve to be punished for longer than necessary, okay, no neko deserves that. Nekos don’t deserve to be slaves, and I’d never take advantage of you or treat you as just a servant. You are a good pet, you’re my good pet. I may not need you to “serve” me anymore, but I still want you. Your personality, your company. Your warmth, the way your dimples appear when I make you smile. I still want all of that, how could I ever throw all of that away- throw you away?”

Dan had slowly moved to sit in Phil’s lap as Phil spoke. Phil cradled Dan and swayed them slowly, feeling Dan’s tail wrap around his waist.

“You’re amazing, Dan. And I’m sorry, too. I’m so sorry for neglecting you the past month. I’m sorry for not sharing with you about Adam sooner, I should’ve eased you into it instead of just breaking the news to you the way I did. I haven’t been the best owner recently, but I promise I’ll take care of you. Just because Adam’s in the picture now doesn’t mean I would forget you.”

Dan smiled for the first time since he knew about Adam, and Phil was happy to see his dimples again. Dan looked up at Phil, his eyes glimmering with adoration. Phil smiled back and kissed his forehead.

“If you’re not fond of Adam, I understand. But I hope you’ll warm up to him. He really likes you, you know?” Phil said hopefully.

“He does? Even though I never talked to him?” Dan said, amused.

“Mm-hmm,” Phil nodded vigorously.

Six months later

“Wake up, sleepyhead.”

“Mmphh,” Dan groaned, curling around the warm body next to him tighter.

“It’s your turn to make breakfast!”

“Urghhh why can’t Adam do it!” Dan grumbled, headbutting the shoulder next to him.

“Hey, ‘twas your idea to make it a taking turns thing,” Adam mumbled and pulled the blanket over his head.

Phil chuckled at the sight before him. He would’ve just made breakfast himself, but Dan had insisted that every chore around the house should be done in turns just so he could still feel useful. Even though Phil assured him plenty of times that he was more than okay with having Dan just be the lazy and cute pet in their little family.

After a few more minutes, Dan got up and stumbled his way to the bathroom. He brushed his teeth and let his mind wonder. Life is good. He may not be legally free of his slave status, but he is fortunate enough to live with not just one but two Masters who treat him with respect, shower him with love and care and spoil him more than any neko owner out there would.

Dan learned that his purpose in life wasn’t what the training centre brainwashed him into thinking. He wasn’t meant to merely be a servant, he was meant to bring happiness into his little family, to love and be loved. Just because he wasn’t doing what his status requires him to, it doesn’t mean he was of no use; he can still be cherished.

Sure, Phil may not love him the same way he loved Adam, but Phil still loved him and that was enough for Dan. He kept his promise on taking care of him and never leaving him. Dan felt so grateful to have him in his life.

He walked out of the bathroom and saw Adam still sleeping, his boxers still on the floor where it was thrown carelessly the previous night before they had sex. Dan smiled at the memory. He’d learned that the only thing more fun than pleasuring his Master, is getting to pleasure two Masters.

He entered the kitchen and saw Phil leaning against the counter, playing some game on his phone while waiting for the kettle to boil. Phil looked up when he heard Dan come in.

“Finally, you’re up!” Phil exclaimed, “I was about to just make breakfast myself.”

“You know you’re not supposed to do that! It’s my turn,” Dan tried to sound grouchy, but he couldn’t stop himself from smiling.

“G’mornin,” Phil smiled back and kissed Dan’s forehead.

Technically, Dan is Phil’s - and now Adam’s - slave. But Dan is also the luckiest neko in the world.

I originally wanted to end it with angst where Dan actually does get sold off but. I can’t imagine Phil to be that heartless haha and I don’t like sad endings either so yay for happy ending ^^

[veeneedstovent]

My love, ...

Before I start anything - before we get into it - I want to be clear. I love you a lot, and I didn’t always know what I’m about to tell you. but I want our relationship as a couple to last as long as possible. When we first started talking up until before I asked you to be my boyfriend, my feelings were gradually growing and intensifying for you, but I kept telling myself we wouldn’t last. It was a way of protecting myself in the event you’d leave my life without warning. Things are flipped now. Just to throw it out there, I don’t see marriage in the future, I’m just not thinking about that yet. But I do want to be with you for as long as possible, for a long long long time. I know it comes in steps but I want to introduce you to my parents, introduce you to my friends, spend holidays with you, and celebrate you whenever I can.

To me, a relationship means growing together and genuinely wanting to adapt to each other. This truly does NOT mean making rules and changing core characteristics or traits or habits (for example if i told you to stop thinking the office is funny, stop drinking coffee, or stop eating ramen) but, to me, it DOES mean learning how to simply BE around each other and bend about things that really matter to each other.

What do you think - is your definition of a relationship the same and where do you want this going?

1) I’m actively making an effort to understand you and please correct me if I’m getting something twisted bc I really want to understand, ...I know you don’t have bad intentions and didn’t mean to do harm when you said “it wasn’t judgy” that moment with the 29 rooms guy (my answer to “what would u tell ur younger self” was “tell your parents more and confide in them bc they can rly help you out with some tough stuff”), but do you think you can please try to see where I’m coming from when I say it isn’t about what you said, but how IIIII hear it, and the feelings i have that stem off of it. I felt my feelings being invalidated. i know it’s not your intention but the times when i feel my feelings ARE being validated, and you say something like “oh yeah you’re right you’re right keep going”, i hear it as if you’re seeing the situation as a “who is right and who is wrong”. i’m not okay with that because at the end of the day i know what i felt. My feelings are always valid, and i need that to be cared for and respected.

back to the situation with the 29 rooms guy, I wasn’t able to tell you that besides saying WOAH WOAH WOAH ...he also side-eyed me, nervous chuckled and i totally felt judged. I understand it’s frustrating for you and you feel I try to look for fights every time we chill. I’m really sorry, I never mean to make you feel like that, and I never want you to feel like this again. (i know EXACTLY how this feels and i can go into that later) I know that I don’t have to bring up every little thing that irks me, and I will try not to from here on out, but the things that I feel truly matter enough to me, should be brought up. I was hurt because I felt you were quick to shut me out bc I was “acting up” but I wish you’d give me the benefit of the doubt and hear me out.

Please never feel bad/sorry for bringing up your feelings with me and never apologize for it. I want to hear you out and reach a common ground. It literally takes you and me to make us and we are in this entire thing together. I really hope you can tell me the same and mean it. - My feelings are always always always valid and I need you to respect that and just believe that.

2) I’m NOT coming at you, and please please correct me if i’m wrong again... I understand you are very frustrated with the fact that it’s hard to make me cum, and that I have not done that yet. I hope you can see my point of view - let me start with saying I definitely enjoy having sex with you at least 50% of the time, at the veryyyyy very least, The other times, truthfully, I do it so you will stay content. It’s really really hard for me to say this, but I have to say it. When I let you fuck me every time I’m not in the mood yet, or when I feel like you might get upset, I feel pressured and a part of me just KNOWS I do it solely so that you will love me enough to stick around or even love me at all. It’s a really hard pill for me to swallow and admit, and it’s so scary bc I feel I have 0 control over it. and again, I’m NOT trying at all to stir things up, but sort of going off a similar tangent, regarding what happened monday night, i just need you to know that it really hurt me that you turned away and would have been able to sleep it off when you got frustrated/disappointed I didn’t cum.

From my perspective, it was a positive moment - we both want the same thing - or so i thought - and practice is the only way to get there.

Still, the whole thing really hurts me bc I feel you were quick to shut me out and again didn’t give me the benefit of the doubt - you said i’m making you “jump thru hoops” to have sex with me. in reality, i’m NOT saying if you can’t make me cum, we can’t have sex. I AM saying please try to make me cum because i want to feel more connected with you, and i know you have potential, you just need to learn my body, and that takes practice so please practice, and if it doesn’t happen right here right now i know it’d not the end of the world at all! i will def still have sex with you bc usually it’s something i truly enjoy. So the entire situation felt turned against me, I found myself apologizing bc I truly felt it was my fault and I let you have sex with me in order to prove to you that i actually DID want to have sex in the first place. having sex with you was in fact something i wanted, however, if you would’ve just heard me out and given me the benefit of the doubt, the sex would’ve been so much more meaningful.

3) On monday when I got home I felt incredibly empty and depressed, i needed to talk to someone. it was like 3 pm and that’s when i was thinking about all i just told you about. I was just trying to put my thoughts together...and when i finally did, and when I realized what I told you about my reason for letting you have sex with me on demand, For the first time in my life I had an anxiety attack. I started crying and I got really loud. I was full on sobbing and I was breathing really fast and I felt my hands get numb and tingly. It lasted a full moment. After that, I knew I couldn’t be alone. I called Joudi and she really calmed me down and was there for me. I was just very emo the entire day after that happened, and not productive at all. So later that night when we were texting and you asked me how my day was, and if i was okay, I felt stuck. I really wanted to answer you but I felt I couldn’t, I wanted to be truthful and not lie and say “same old, you know it was good” because it just really wasn’t. But I also didn’t want to mention it through text because it was so heavy. So I fell asleep and woke up to it still awaiting an answer. That’s when I knew I needed to talk, so at 10 am I texted you “can I call you?”

Yesterday, I was OK - ISHHHH for most of the day. Just wanted to have this conversation with you all day, just naturally couldn’t have a time slot, no one’s fault. I had my trainer at 1 - 2, was with Athena from 4 - 9, we shopped and were gonna watch a movie but I decided I wanted to try to talk with you instead, I tried my best to make it home on time but when I was driving, literally not even 10 min away from my house at like 9:50, I started not to feel right again. I actually had another panic attack while driving. This time my thoughts preceding it were about our relationship at first but then I started thinking about my brother and how terrible things are with him right now. I know any day he can take his own life and I”m soooo sure of that, I see how changed he is, and I was thinking about how close and normal we used to be, and I thought about how I want to live a life where I treat every moment with every loved one I have as if it were the last time I’d see them.

I felt myself swerving and crouching more towards the wheel, my hands got humb again, but I was able to overcome it.

So that’s everything I need you to know, laid out on the table.

That’s how I’ve been.

I love you so much.

- Vanessa

[fmlfpl]

Lineup Lamentations - GW22

Our Transfers, Captains, and Starting 11s.

WALSH

Transfers:

N/A

Will let my double Chelsea attack go on for one last hurrah before I figure out which / how many Spurs assets to bring in next week with two frees. With the positive news on Costa and no huge problems besides Baines' knock which will probably keep him out for 3 months as per usual with him I'm in okay shape to save. Or so it seems.

GK: TOM. Seems like best case 4 pointer with bunch of saves. Meh. After that 10 spot last week he can do no wrong. Maybe he'll stop a pen from Donq. Kill for.

DEF: First three at the back situation for me in a very long time. Alonso and Van Fuck go at home against some shitty ass teams so hopefully there are two cleans there. Van Fuck is on a short leash though - they have been pretty fucking bad lately and it doesn't feel outstanding to have a premium defender spot taken up by someone on a bottom half side. Turning him into a Spurs defender could be great, but we'll see if I have enough money to make it work based on what I want to do in attack. Baines suddenly is a concern. Koeman is a notorious liar about player fitness and it would not be the most surprising thing to see Baines not on the weekend team sheet. Usually when a manager says a player should be fine for the weekend that means he SHOULD BE FUCKING FINE but Koeman doesn't speak clear English and is a little tubby pea coat wearing cocksuck so who knows. If Baines misses out I think I'm going to rip him straight out as I do not want to be dealing with a niggle which could just as well keep him out for a month as had done earlier in the season. We'll see - hopefully he starts and just tits.

MID: This quartet looks ready to fire in some points for me this weekend. Still feel very high on Rambo and the double with Alexis still feels nice. Too bad G is healthy...although Alexis has been returning fairly steadily, there is no doubt that he is less threatening with Donq fuck in there. He will still steadily tick and return as he has done the past handful but an explosion does not feel imminent. Yaya was his usually Yayayay self against Everton playing pretty deep but with Raz in the side City probably have the highest chance of getting a pen of any team in the league. Really big game for City we'll see what Pep does with the lineup. Kinda thinking he will pack midfield, but we'll see. Finally, Hazard is still hanging around in my side. This is probably his farewell game regardless of what he does against Hull. Feels like there is better value elsewhere and he's got a few tough games after Hull. Should tit and tot this weekend though especially with Hull losing Livermore who has been a very steady and solid mid for them. I think they are going to get absolutely battered.

FWD: Crouch headlines my forward group with lesser humans Ibra and Costa fighting over who will carry his boots. I will be watching Stoke closely as Crouch suddenly seems like a reasonably solid start every week forward as long as he is featuring for Stoke. A career renaissance would make it very unsurprising to see this giraffe fuck bonk in another goal this weekend against a fairly short United defense. Hoping for no Fellaini in the team sheet. Costa should slot right back into the 11 for Willy after being declared fully fit by Conte today. Unless he wants to reprimand and bench him to send a message which would be annoying...and sort of a tactic I would expect from a lesser manager. Costa is my insane massive differential this weekend after suffering from I think 6 price drops he better repay it with some puntos against Hull on Sunday.

CAP: Hazard baby. Last time I tipped Hazard cap I took it off him after lineup lambs came out in a sudden rush of madness. I ended up losing points on the switch as often happens with last minute captaincy changes. This time I will not make the same mistake. Even though Alexis is the runaway leader I just don't love him out on the wing, simple as. Yes Burnley are shit away but thinking back to last season Alexis was barely ever a captaincy shout with Giroud in the side and I think the same sort of thing applies now. Hazard does his FPL business at home and I am hoping he flat track bullies Hull. A penalty is very real for Chelsea too as Hull have given away the most in the league which is not something that I am overlooking. A free 10 point spot kick would have me jerking it to a widescreen pic of the Belgian flag on my laptop. Go on Hazzy - do me.

ALON

Transfers:

N/A

Also saving. Saving is just the greatest. Unless you’re getting 0s in your lineup I think saving is a reasonable option whenever you only have 1 FT. It may not feel good, like you’re getting left in the dust by the other more aggressive managers flying into -4s and -8s and shit but no. Calm your tit saving is a beautiful thing always.

I still have Siggy in my team who has had a laser on his forehead for weeks now and I thought that I was finally ready to pull the trigger but I’m not. The maths are hard to do but I was trying in my head to figure out the value of a FT. I don’t know do you? Bottom line is this:

Siggy + FT vs. Eriksen or Alli away at the Ethiad

I’m taking the FT route. I think Tottenham fans and FPL managers are overlooking the fact that City are still a very good team and this match is at the Ethiad. I don’t see Spurs BATTERING them even though they’re probably slight favorites to win. I think I can live w/o Spurs for one more week and then have 2FT next to deal with probably Siggy, Firmino, and maybe one more (ie. if Baines is not fit).

GK: I love Lee Grant we all know this but fuck it feels legitimately awful to not have Heaton. He’s by far the best GK in all of FPL not even close. One day I’ll make that luxury transfer. Not this week though.

DEF: Same ole trio for me protecting Lee Grant starting with newly cemented legend lord of dongs Alonso. Great that he could come out like he did last week and break the hex that I had put on him. He’s golden. Phil Jones keeps his place in my side I just hope that Mou feels similarly because he’s way better then fucking two-footed tackling neck tattoo fuckboi Rojo but I’ll still be sweating the team sheet... United have been very good defensively and I hope they can keep a bundle of cleans in this nice run that they have starting with keeping out Crouch the Giraffe Monster tomorrow.. Lastly Bainesy who yes Walsh summarized nicely above. I’m terrified he’s going to miss and then be in and out for a month which would be classic Bainesy. So terrified that I even toyed with some de Roon transfers and playing my AOA but fuck that. Just have to pray Leighton is fine and can keep being a festival for us both.

MID: Well no transfers so you already know who. Alexis nothing to be said he’s the immutable staple in basically all of our teams and he gives no reason to think otherwise. Stan was a new friend last week and came straight through with a pen goal but he won’t always be on pens with Callum starting every other match basically. Gimme some open play tits Stanny... Stan too like Phil Jones above and Giroud below I will be sweating the fuck out of the team sheet. Usually can rely on Stanislas starting when fit but Howe is the true tinkerman of the league and who the fuck knows what he’s going to do. I got the boy for last week and these two home matches (WAT, CPL) and then I’ll probably figure a way out from Stan because the fixtures turn real bad. And then I have my two assholes who all they do is blank. It’ll be great to start my Saturday at 7:30am watching both Firmino and Siggy blank for fun. Or maybe I’ll get a treat... It would be surprising to see Liverpool score any less then 3 goals and Siggy can always produce a bit of FK magic or just get pen so he’s a tossup to return any week. Regardless 7:30am as both a LFC supporter and owner of both Bobby and Siggy this match kinda totes my mood for the rest of the weekend.

FWD: Heavy hitting fucks. The aforementioned Giroud has been declared fit so that I would imagine means he’s for sure starting. But no matter what Wenger said in the press conference I’m still terrified that he won’t start. Need him to do. Come on Donkey. Ibra loves an away match more then anyone and he has massive returns in five straight. Ibra the man the myth the legend makes it easy to not consider someone like Aguero who is still over a million more expensive. He’ll just keep ticking over. I wonder when United will get their next pen... Lastly Lukaku. Everton have been on the up and up lately playing much better with a change in system and of their next eight fixtures only a trip to White Hart Lane should cause them any trouble. The others being cpl, stk, BOU, mid, SUN, WBA, HUL. Doesn’t get better then that! Three goals in his last four I think Big Rom is primed for a big tit fest of returns over the next month or two which is why I got him. Let’s fucking go.

CAP: Well yeah maybe you could tell by how excited I am to have Big Rom but he’s my cap this week so yes let us go. I hope Walsh isn’t mad at me for capping a player vs Palace but Palace has just one clean all season and 40 goals conceded they are a nightmare at the back to say the least. I think Rom in his form and with Everton as a whole in great form they should batter this Palace side to the tone of something like 3-0. Romelu has played 90′ for 16 straight matches so just need him to keep being him and he should come good in the points. LEZ GOOOOOOO!!!