#i'll have him shove it somewhere else its fine

[crithaus]

It's 2 am but I'm awake so tlovm fans get this right in the episodes where Percy and gang are retaking Whitestone, specifically the ones where Vax is mind controlled and they've just escaped the residuum melting acid tank, Keyleth and Vex both call him via the magic earrings trying to snap Vax outta being bisexually mind controlled and keyleth gives him a half seconds pause, barely anything but Vex fakes dying in the ACID on her turn, lies through her pearly little teeth to him and that stops Vax dead in his tracks for a second, it's enough to shake him outta damn mind control by former cerberus assembly archmage delilah goddamn briarwood for a moment

I will scream a new singularity into the universe, and they keep talking for a moment actually and right after Matt-as-delilah asks Vax just who tbe fuck he's whispering to he LIES, RAW Vax should have told Sylas and Delilah right then and there that the acid trap failed but he lies by ommission to protect his sister and family and girlfriend, sobs, and then when they're all seconds before the actually ziggurat fight Matt is explaining the parameters of mind control to Liam, yea sure Vox Machina is still technically your friends but the Briarwoods are your new friend-ier friends now and if shit pops off youll be protecting the briarwoods, and Liam's like :/, mostly accurate quote, "so if I see," points to Laura, "her, the most important person in the world to me, I wanna fight her?" Like twinnies on top forever I fear, he would punt scanlan off of the ziggurat for free at that moment but Gods forbid he has to lay a hand on his sister, and then he's like well I'll just guard Delilah's body and not hit anyone anyway, he isn't even willing to entertain the idea of fighting Vex (and co but...)

And then like during the fight after sylas dies, like sam said that tlovm is its own canon and also that the twins specifically got so wicked pulverized throughout the entire campaign that he had to start giving all but their very biggest owies to everyone else so the runtime wasn't 140+ minutes of footage from exandrian intensive care but I'm still SAD about Keyleth getting Delilah's last hurrah attack instead of vex cuz Vex was DYING, in a room with a magic dampening sphere too so no healing and Vax was like hey dm I will run up this 90° wall to reach my sister take those laws of gravity and shove them up ur ass my boy, like she was getting tossed around like a ragdoll, Liam was going to cry it was awesome, he had tunnel vision and it was getting vex somewhere safe and blowing all their useless potions on her, he wouldn't put her down until keyleth started testing fate fucking with the endless abysmal orb, Vex was fine but oh man the future of her death at the hands of something Percy was involved in?? Foretold tens of episodes before, insane how an unscripted dnd game shakes out

Anyway twinnies goes insanely insanely hard in the campaign it's unreal it's wild, Liam spent 2 and a half whole hours in one of his trials of the take episodes mourning by his own admission his sister being gone for about 8 hours away from Him, i am a codependent siblings enjoyer and this shit will feed you

also I fear I need to reiterate, twinnies? Perfect, no notes. Twincest? An abomination, please do not misconstrue my affections here abeg

[ghouljams]

Please Parental Figure, will Fae!König get a little kiss🥺

Oh you wanna kiss the nasty boy? Ok, one little kiss, but only because it's their first date.

König is standing on your front step, waiting, letting you finish up the last of your dinner conversation. Despite this not being a date it's been… kind of nice. He's good company.

Silence lapses between you. You've run out of things to tell him, but you don't really want to say goodbye yet. König reaches towards you and stops, hovering with a few inquisitive clicks.

"We're not in the shop, you can touch, just-" his fingers are so painfully gentle as they trace over your cheek, and along your jaw, "-behave." You breathe. His eyes linger on your lips, and you feel your brows draw together trying to- trying to…

There's a low comfortable purr rumbling in his chest, lulling you into something warm and fuzzy as he tips your head back.

You want to kiss him. The way he looks at you, the way he touches you, the way he fills your thoughts every waking moment, how could you not? You keep telling yourself that you can't want König the way you do, try to convince yourself that the way your stomach flips when you see him is fear and not desire, but- but he knows all that, you think. He lets you be prickly and unfriendly, let's you keep your defenses up because he knows you won't know how to act without them. He's so terribly patient with you.

You press up on your toes and twist your fingers in his shirt, hoping that's enough incentive for him to lean down and kiss you.

The problem is the hood. You don’t want to kiss his hood, you want to kiss the man underneath it. But every time you've thought about kissing him the idea of asking him to take the hood off has seemed insurmountable. It's felt like asking for a world of trust that you're not sure you should be afforded.

You shouldn't have been worried. As soon as your eyes shut you feel his lips against yours. He tips your head all the way back, giving himself room to lean down and kiss you like he's been dying to since he saw you. Something sweet and as natural as breathing. His teeth catch against your lip, and you make a muffled noise of pain before his tongue is soothing the ache. You open for him, feeling his thumb stroke your cheek encouragingly as you brush your tongue tentatively over his teeth. You're curious but careful to stay clear of their sharp points.

König doesn't seem worried, that deep rumble in his chest keeps dragging you further down into heavy bliss, your brain working overtime to keep you standing. Your limbs are heavy and slow from something other than cheap beer, and you let König take your weight as you lean against him. It feels like he's pumping you full of something heady and warm, a poison you'd never want to run from. His teeth are on your lip again, but the pain doesn't come back, just his tongue. All of him is so big and insistent, including his fingers as they wrap around something warm in your chest, something golden.

You blink your eyes open as he ducks down to mouth at your neck, he feels bigger, or maybe you feel smaller. You feel his mouth open and then hesitate, your chest labors around a breath, he thinks better of it and pulls back.

He stares down at you like- God you are too out of it for a decent metaphor but it's warm and hungry, and you think you can taste it on your tongue. He still has his hood on, did- no, it was off when he kissed you, right?

"Thank you for dinner, Liebling," he tells you quietly, and you feel your heart clench affectionately.

"Sure, any time." You murmur, letting him put you back in your entryway. He waits for you to close the door, and you lock it definitely, feeling the bind of his magic slide off of you as you do. You catch sight of yourself in the mirror on the back of your front closet, but even if you hadn't you would've felt it when the blood dripping from your lips finally fell on your shirt.

[lovesphases]

Could you write something where reader is best friends with Sarah and has had a crush on rafe for a long time. There’s some situation like going on vacation with the Cameron family and John b joins so the reader has to share a bed with rafe. He wakes up at night bc reader is having a wet dream, cuddled up next to/on him, grinding against his thigh. He gets really turned on and starts touching her & she wakes up. Maybe he teases her a bit like asking if she had a good dream, pointing out how wet she got his thigh and then they have sex. Reader is a bit embarrassed and shy about it. - 🧚🏻‍♂️

i love the way your brain works. also sorry i got a bit carried away. pt 2!

MDNI 18+

going on a yearly vacation with the cameron’s is not something new to you. you’d always share a room with sarah, staying up late the room filled with your giggles and hushed whispers. this time would be different though. sarah’s new boyfriend, john b would be tagging along. the new addition causing sleeping arrangements to be changed.

“what do you mean i have to share a room with rafe?” you stare at sarah, eyes nearly popping out of your head.

“it’ll be fine. rafe can just sleep on the floor!”

“no fucking way! i’m not sleeping in the same room as him!”

“pleaseeee? for me?” she clasps her hands together, giving you that look that makes you crumble everytime.

“jesus christ. fine. just this once. you owe me though.” you huff out. she lets out a loud squeal

“ohmygosh thank you so much! i definitely owe you big time!” you roll your eyes.

“yeah whatever. you’re lucky i love you.”

"i am not sleeping on the fucking floor" rafe snaps at you. irritated with the situation and ready to go to bed.

"fine i'll go find somewhere else to sleep then." you huff out crossing your arms. you begin to head towards the door when rafe calls out.

"jesus kid. this bed is big enough for the both of us to sleep and keep a good distance away from each other. what do you think m' gonna do?"

"i dunno. maybe suffocate me in my sleep or something." he lets out a laugh, he can't help but find your dramatics funny.

"just get in the fucking bed"

"fine. but keep your hands to yourself. i swear to god" you poke at him

"got it." he raises his hands in defense.

its 3 am when rafe wakes up to you practically laying on top of him, grinding on his thigh. he rubs his eyes, making sure he's awake and that this is really happening. you let out a quiet whimper as your brows furrow together. he stares down at you, a smirk forming on his face.

he allows his fingers to find your core, softly grazing over your cunt. he can feel the fabric that does little to cover you slowly becoming soaked. this pushes him over the edge as he moves ur panties to the side, slowly dragging his fingers through your folds catching on your clit. you let out a moan as your eyes begin to flutter open.

"rafe? what are you doing?"

"what am i doing? you were the one who woke me up, humping my leg like a bitch in heat. you're a cock hungry whore even when you're asleep.” you let out another moan, his fingers still rubbing at your clit.

"if you don't want this then tell me to stop." your hips begin to buck up involuntary. heat rises to your cheeks, thanking god that its dark and he can't see just how embarrassed you are. but with the pressure he's applying to your needy clit all rational thoughts leave your brain. your senses completely filled with rafe.

"rafe. please just fuck me. need it so bad." you let out a desperate whine, his teasing increasing your arousal, though still not enough.

"yeah that's what i thought." he shoves two thick fingers inside of you without any warning. causing you to take a sharp breath in. his fingers massage that spongy part that makes your head fuzzy and your eyes roll back. the band in your tummy tightening with each stroke of his fingers.

"you gonna cum?" you nod your head vigorously as you feel yourself getting closer to the edge.

"yeah? what happened to you wanting me to keep my hands to myself? over here makin' a mess all over my fingers."

"please rafe im so close. can i please cum? i need it" tears gather at your waterline. the burning in your stomach almost too much to handle.

"fuck. go ahead. cum for me baby. make a fucking mess." his words cause the band to snap, your orgasm washing over you soaking his hand and the sheets.

"good girl. that's it. let me have it." he helps you ride out your high before pulling his fingers out of your cunt. he brings his fingers to your mouth.

"gotta clean up the mess you made. yeah?"

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Best and Worst of both worlds (Part 4) [Choice: GO TO UNIVERSITY]

tw: yandere, slight injury

damn yall iam tempted to add a third mid yandere like not as slayer girlboss as Yves but not as cringefail Montgomery, but fr idk how to slot it into the story because i think its gonna get 2 crowded

anywahys enjouy and pleas id appreciate them reblogs

part 5

You gave him the address of your university. He may now know where you frequent, but at least he doesn't know where you live.

"Alright, buckle up."

--

"Here ya' go." He pulled up right to the entrance.

You muttered thanks, but as you were unbuckling yourself, he told you to wait for a moment.

You watch him fish a ballpoint pen and an old flyer from somewhere, he removes the cap of the pen using his teeth before scribbling something on the piece of printed paper. He took something out from the side pocket of his door before shoving it into your hands.

You opened your palm to see that he had written his phone number on a torn brochure of the countryside. You quizzingly looked at the crumpled $20 note between your fingertips.

"I'm... actually not done workin' for the day. I'll have to work extra hours to make up the ones I lost. I don't know how long you'll be here, but I bet you're gonna get hungry or thirsty."

You said that you can't accept this, it's a lot of money!

He laughed right at your face.

"Don't worry about it! I'm workin' full time, that's just a little change for me. You just focus on settin' your grades straight. I'll probably clock out at ten in the evening. Give me a call and I'll pick you right up if you're still here by then."

Well, if he insists. You shoved the cash and his number into your pocket as you opened the door. He got out and opened his trunk, he retrieved your backpack with a grunt.

"What's is IN here?" He mumbled as he found it abnormally heavy for someone of your stature to carry daily. You replied that it's your study materials, he only shook his head in pity.

"Are you sure you're alright on your own?" He helped you get your arms into the loops of your straps.

You assured him that you're fine and you're used to this. He opened his mouth about to say something, but you already took off running. You looked back and waved goodbye, he scratched his head in bafflement as to how someone like you can run that fast with that much load.

--

The next bus is in an hour.

Sitting under the bus shelter is definitely not ideal in this severe weather. You wiped the sweat off your brow.

The only place you know you could lurk around without seeming strange is the library or one of the university's many cafes. You checked the time, it's still just half past three in the afternoon. Yves doesn't leave until six.

The cafe it is.

You don't know what to expect, whatever they're selling is always out of your budget. So you never bothered going near it, as it only made you hungry and bitter that you weren't born into generational wealth. But since you're a rich person today thanks to... what was his name again? You had a small spring in your step as you made a beeline to the cafe.

Perhaps you were too excited, you were too fast and too distracted by the various blackboard easels around promoting their respective cafe's dishes. You weren't paying attention to the man leaving the establishment

You bumped into something, rather, someone. Your collision is followed by the sound of a hot liquid spilling and a metal clanking. You gasped, trying to take steps back but you ended up stumbling over your own feet, tripping over your own ankle and falling backwards.

A sense of deja vu washed over you as a strong arm wrapped itself around your waist, keeping you steady and unharmed. But your dignity is definitely bruised to death.

You were afraid to look up. You know who this chest belongs to. Who else would wear a black turtleneck in this scorching hot weather and not break a sweat?

You muttered apologies as he lets go, realizing that not only did you commit accidental assault on your biggest crush, but you also made him spill the golden brown, clear, steaming tea that he's probably looking forward to drinking.

He grabbed you by the wrist and began inspecting you for any burns. Your eyes trailed to his other hand, which is now reddened by the scalding liquid splashing onto his skin. His fingers are still wrapped around his half empty, reusable stainless steel thermal cup. The rubber lined lid is now on the floor, sitting still in a puddle of wasted tea. The smell of jasmine permeates the air and into your nose.

Once he deems you unharmed, he lets go. And you rushed to pick his lid up, flicking any remaining liquid off before nervously presenting it to him.

"Thank you." He plucked it out of your hands and entered the cafe again. Through the pristine glass door, You watched him talk to the employee behind the cash register, they nodded and accepted his cup. Soon after, someone came out with a mop in hand.

They smiled and greeted you as they placed the mop onto the puddle. You panicked when the staff opened the door and invited you in.

At this point, you wanted to run away and hide in a ditch. But Yves is staring at you as he wipes his injured hand with a cool, damp towel provided by cashier. There doesn't seem to be any discernible emotion present on his face, but when you tried to flee- even only a single step, he narrowed his eyes at you.

Defeated, you hung your head low and went in. Setting your kiloton bag onto a nearby chair before making the walk of shame to the counter.

You tried not to look at his face, knowing that you're going to burst into tears out of severe embarrassment and guilt. You went straight to the cashier and asked to pay for his replacement.

"No worries! You don't have to, we replaced his drink free of charge. It was an accident, after all!" She chirped.

That came to you as a surprise. Aren't they supposed to be money hungry? Well, whatever. At least you don't have to pay extra, but you asked about their pastry choices. You wanted to buy him something sweet to make it up for the bitterness.

"Right this way!" She walked to the display case. They all look exquisite, but you felt like your eyes are about to pop out of your head with the prices. Unfortunately for you though, the option which is the most presentable and the cheapest is a large slice of fresh cream fruit cake, for the price of exactly twenty dollars.

You tried to hide your hesitance as you told her you wanted a slice. Good lord, and you see people eating their baked goods every day. She prepared one on a quaint little ceramic plate, placing a miniature fork next to it.

"That will be twenty dollars." You bite your tongue to prevent yourself from grumbling, knowing that Yves has some sort of superhuman hearing. You fish the $20 out of your pocket and try your best to smoothen out the wrinkles.

The woman's customer service smile faltered a bit when she felt a little resistance trying to take the note from you. It took a few more seconds of you mourning and tugging it before you finally let go.

"Thank you!" She beamed again.

Finally, you have no choice but to face him. At least you have a plate of cake with you.

His gaze softened and the straight line formed by his lips was replaced by a pleased smile. You followed him to the table where you placed your bag.

He set his bag down on the chair next to him and took a seat. You placed the dish on the table, you're actually unsure if he wanted you here or left alone. So you awkwardly stood nearby, waiting for the next social cue.

"It's been a while since we last talked. I missed you." He purred. His words and body language is enough to tell that he's accepting of your presence. But you're still cautious, it could just mean he's being nice for treating him to a scrumptious dessert.

"Please." He gestured towards the chair opposite of him. "Take a seat. I would love to catch up with you."

It would be rude not to. You settled in your chair, completely disregarding the rule you set for yourself to not mingle with him.

The table is... smaller than you thought. You're physically a lot closer to Yves than you would like, the table barely served as a barrier between you and him.

"How have you been?" He asked while taking a bottle of hand sanitizer from his bag. Yves applied a decent amount on his palm and rubbed it in thoroughly, going gentle on his recent injury.

You said you were... fine. Not wanting to reveal too much about yourself. The last time that happened, you managed to act a like fool in front of Montgomery. You don't want to look stupid in front of Yves. So you threw the question back at him.

He hummed in response. "I suppose... it could be better."

Yves left it at that. You don't know what to say next, trying not to look at the fresh burn. So you apologized again.

"You're forgiven." He shot you a teasing smile. "How endearing of you, treating me to a slice of this decadent sweet." Yves picked up the fork to cut and retrieve a piece.

"And, It's my favourite. Why don't you have a taste?" He brought the fork closer to your face. You tried taking the utensil, but his other hand went ahead to hold your chin. Applying a gentle pressure to silently signal that he wanted you to open your mouth.

'Why is he like this?' You internally screamed as you allowed the detectability of the cake to sink onto your taste buds. You might be biased, thinking that the dessert is a thousand times better due to him feeding you. You thought that this is the best thing you ever ate in your life.

Your face is probably hotter than his tea at this point. Curling your toes in your shoes as the embarrassment becomes nearly unbearable.

He released his hold as soon as he felt a little tug from your head, knowing not to go too far with his actions; just enough to excite your growing infatuation with him.

You give him a thumbs up as you repeatedly wipe your face with your sleeve as if trying to wipe away the blushes under your skin. Your ears perked up at his chuckles, it was something that you would like to hear often. But you don't think it's worth having heart attacks over.

"Your classmates were discussing about the exam." He cut another piece for himself. You watched him with widened eyes as he used the same fork to eat the cake; daintily covering his mouth with his hand. Yves didn't seem to care that the utensil was smeared in your saliva and proceeded with his train of thought. "They were lamenting over it in the library."

Then, he stopped. Bringing his piercing gaze back up to you.

You freaked out, realizing that this is the cue for you to respond appropriately. You let slip out that the paper was atrocious and you were fully expecting to fail your course. Blood ran cold in your veins as you realized he now knows more than he should.

"That's a shame." He replied. "But, you're being unfairly harsh on yourself."

He was interrupted by a staff member handing Yves his thermos cup filled with his Jasmine tea. Yves thanked them and they went back to their post.

"You're clearly dedicated to your studies." He nonchalantly fed you a piece again, this time without having to hold your face. Only when you bit into a slice of strawberry among the fresh cream did you realize what you had done. Yves slid the metal fork out of your mouth and took another scoop for himself.

This is extremely unsettling how you suddenly felt that comfortable accepting his antics.

"I know you did well." He took his time chewing his food behind his fingers. "You will not fail."

You found comfort in his words no matter how much you thought he didn't know anything about your life. It was nice to have someone recognize your efforts for once without resorting to fake pity.

However, unless your marker accepts tear stains as coherent answers, you are definitely going to fail.

Though, there is a small part of you that found it weird Yves is so sure of himself. It almost feels like your valid worries are simply sleep talk to Yves. But in the end, you dismissed it and convinced yourself that he's just a huge fan of toxic positivity.

You and him continued the day chatting about each other. Mostly about you, though. There were many times that you caught yourself oversharing, the majority of which you either downplay or overplay depending if it made you look good or bad.

Yves would only have a mysterious, even knowing smile on his face when you grossly upsell some of your best moments. You don't know why you did that, maybe subconsciously you tried to impress him.

Eventually though, you don't seem to mind sharing forks with this man who you spoke to twice and counting in your life. You realize if he wanted you to shut up about something, he feeds you a piece. You were offended, but humbled because you would immediately realize how ridiculous you're sounding at that moment.

You swear, Yves must be a practitioner in the dark arts. He made you act in ways you don't normally do, you're unusually attracted to him and he always seems to know how to control you.

You made a mental note to check your bag for any stray crystals, strange leaves, rocks or jewelry when you get home.

Yves sets the fork down on the empty plate before taking a sip of his tea. He listens attentively to every word you tell him about your interests in your favourite colour, your favourite TV show, your favourite song-- things that you knew would bore just about anyone.

Because if someone you don't really know were to rave about whatever you're raving to Yves, you would be fucking bored out of your mind. Your friends and family would be bored too, why is Yves so different? You're completely self aware that whatever you're blabbering right now should cease.

But somehow couldn't stop for the life of you.

It was like a projectile vomit of words, you kept yapping endlessly while Yves nodded and occasionally interjects with his own opinion at the most appropriate times.

In the end, the only thing that snapped you out of this mania is overhearing one of the staff members complaining about having to take the filles trash bag out back.

You knew that food establishments usually do that at the end of the day and you were instantly reminded of something important.

His smile fell into a thin line again when you suddenly whipped your phone up to check the time.

Two busses has gone by and you're still here. The next bus is in five minutes.

You scrambled to gather your belongings, hopped off the chair, and said a quick goodbye to Yves- right after explaining that your bus was arriving soon. He didn't look too happy with your sudden departure, all he did was observe you unspeakingly with his posture straight. Both of his hands were resting on the table atop each other.

You felt chills down your spine as he looked straight into your eyes with no anger, no sadness, but none of that warmth from before.

It scared you, but missing the bus again scares you even more at this point in time. So you took off running, leaving him alone in the cafe.

He spent a few more minutes sipping on his stone-cold tea before, collecting his cup, standing up, and leaving the building. Yves closed the door behind him and from his handbag, he drew out a familiar piece of printed paper with a certain construction worker's phone number scribbled onto it.

Yves took his time to tear it to shreds with controlled, fluid movements of the wrists. He repeated enough times to give him a handful of thin, even strips. There was no way of knowing what the document was anymore, which satisfied him.

He dropped his handiwork into the trash can he walked past. Yves sanitized his hands before heading in the direction of your bus stop with slow, relaxed strides.

[coffeecollective]

INCREDIBLY Inspited by a fanfic I read, I'm blanking on which so when I find It i'll give credits, it was an excellent read and I latched SO HARD onto it -Maverick🛩️

The first time Maverick was in the air since Gooses death will always be one he'll cherish.

The first time may have been when he flipped out on poor sundown but He doesn’t really count that,

The first one he counts where He was actually Himself while in the air was the same night of the first hop without Goose with him, After the Sundown incident.

After the hop with sundown Maverick was defeated, He never thought he could ever fly the same again, not without goose with him.

After he stormed back to the locker room alone, and after his talk with iceman, he walked back to his flat.

He in a pained rush began to pack all his things, shoving it all into suitcases

where was he going to go? he had no idea. he just knew he needed to leave.

While packing, he came across many of the things goose and his family had gifted to him over the years of friendship they had together.

Too painful to look at he decided to go take a break, he couldn't go to the bar so he decided to go to the airport for a breather.

It was there where Charlie spoke with him. After she spoke with him, He went back to topgun and spoke with Viper.

Incredibly Reluctant, Viper took his wings, and let him go back home to finish packing.

While packing he heard a knock at his door, he expected to open it and see Holly, or Wolf, Anyone else but the person who was standing infront of him now.

Winded, Iceman was standing infront of him, clutching the frame of his front door to keep himself stable while he tried to catch his breath.

"Whuh- Ice-?? Did-Did you RUN here???" Maverick looked at him in utter shock.

Iceman nodded, took a deep breath to collect himself, and simply said

"Put your shoes on, I'm taking you somewhere."

Maverick was at first reluctant and was about to tell him 'no' but knew that ice wasn't going to just take a simple 'no' for an answer, so he decided to humor him.

He went inside, put his shoes on, and when reached his front door again, stepping out and closing it behind him, He felt iceman grab his wrist and drag him from his house.

Maverick tried to protest and pull away or even tried to tell ice to slow down but eventually gave up and let ice drag him.

After some time he found himself standing next to ice, in their flight suits, infront of an F-14.

"Ice- No- if you think stealing this is a good idea then its really not-"

"Its fine just trust me" Ice's tone was casual and unconcerned which just made maverick MORE rather then less concerned.

"Ice, if they catch us this'll ruin your chances of Graduating and becoming an admiral. You could be grounded permanen-" He tried to protest again but Ice inturrupted him.

"I got permission from Metcalf now get in the damn F-14 Mitchell."

So he did. And they flew for hours, from sundown to sunset, enjoying the view below them. It was of course really awkward, especially since mav isn't used to being the one in the back but ice refused to let him drive or have any control,

"Just relax and enjoy the view" He told him.

It wasn't until about half way through the ride, when Ice softly said,

"Take control when you're ready"

And so maverick did.

After they landed, ice looked down at maverick

"Do you... want to go get breakfast? I'll pay"

Maverick Agreed and together they sat in the diner, in comfortable silence for awhile, But then Iceman said something that sparked a conversation and after that it was nonstop conversation as they ate their breakfast.

[lemonyko0]

Underneath the Mistletoe - jjk

best friends to lovers <3 but it's christmas themed :)

» genre: fluff (a litttttllleeee angst, they're idiots)

» word count: 1.7k

Underneath the Mistletoe - jjk

December 14th; 5:32pm

being an only child sucked, you concluded. it surely had its perks, but one of them was definitely not your parents vacationing during december and leaving you to decorate the house on your own. you couldn't simply leave it undecorated so close to christmas, that would be a crime.

so you huff as you fall onto the couch dramatically, and dial up the only person you know to help, and the only one who can reach the top of the tree.

your long-time and achingly annoying best friend, jeon jungkook, is at your door in next to no time. so fast, you'd almost theorize he was in fact waiting for you to call.

“i'm surprised you asked me at all, did i tease you too much last year? i thought the tree looked amazing without any decorations at the top.” he laughed heavily at the memory of a barren tree last year because you were too stubborn to ask for help, and even the ladder was no help.

you hit his shoulder and whine, “would you rather me try to reach it and fall off the ladder to my death?”

he chuckles and shakes his head, untangling the lights as he responds, “of course not. but a broken arm in exchange for a beautifully decorated christmas tree sounds like something you'd be willing to do.”

you grin unknowingly at his words, impressed that he knew you so well, “it would be worth it.” your determination and passion for the holidays is matched by few, the sheer amount of things in these holiday boxes were a testament to that, and jungkook knew all too well how your mood brightened and your eyes would sparkle more as soon as november passed, if you even waited that long.

“hey y/n, look.” you lifted your head to see him poking around in another box, before holding up a string of mistletoe as he wiggles his eyebrows. “your parents have good taste.”

you cringe at the sight and tell him to put it away, your parents were gifted that years ago and never put it up, and you were single, so there was no point in fussing over extras. “ew, no, put it back.”

he shakes his head amusedly, “it adds character! and you never know what could happen between now and christmas.”

you roll your eyes and waive him off, “fine, whatever, put it where you want, just hurry up so you can help me put these lights up.”

he smiles widely and runs to hang it somewhere else in the house, “yes ma’am!”

December 28th; 5:35pm

the memories bring a smile back to your face as you wait for him yet again, volunteering to help you take the decorations down since he was “the only one who could reach to put them up” as he worded it.

throughout the day you’d been looking for the mistletoe he’d hung, but living in a decent sized house proved difficult to locate where exactly he’d put it.

you only cease when he knocks at the door, opening it to the sight of him dressed nicely in dark pants and a red sweater. “you do know christmas is over, right?” you tease.

he shakes his head and shoves you into the house, inviting himself in as he’s done many times before. “let's get started! the sooner we finish the sooner we can order pizza and watch cringey romance movies.”

you chuckle, “okay but i've gotten about everything except for that stupid mistletoe, did you even hang it?” you ask, still looking around cluelessly as he climbs the ladder to take down the tiny ornaments and the star. you look at him when he purposefully ignores your question with a smirk, “fine whatever, don't tell me.”

the hours fly by as you hand him the last christmas box, “we’re not finished.” he laughs.

“what do you mean? we finished taking down the tree and the window decorations what else-”

“the mistletoe.” he says with a matching, mischievous grin. “come on, i'll take you to it.” he grabs your hand and leads you room after room until you reach the hallway where the stairs are located, “there!”

you chuckle and examine it, “that's such a weird place to put it, no one comes this far into the house.”

“i do.” he states with a pout.

you laugh, “and who are you planning to

kiss under the mistletoe?”

he lets silence consume us when he chooses not to reply to your snarky statement, you look at him curiously, “you're a hopeless romantic jungkook.”

he raises and eyebrow, inching closer towards you, “hopeless? says who.”

“says me.” you laugh, not taking him seriously whatsoever. and there, lied your mistake.

“well, i say you're wrong.” he speaks slowly, not breaking eye contact as you realize just how close he is. being as close as you are, you've had your fair share of awkward situations and flirtatious jokes, but you figured that's all they ever were, jokes.

his words leave you speechless, this is different, this is uncharted territory. he’s just playing, there's no way, right?

you know life is no hallmark movie, but all skepticism drains from your body when his hand rests on your hip and his eyes can't help but stray to your lips.

he’s nervous, you can tell by the way he's biting his lip, a long time habit of his. and just as you always do, you take a hand to his face and pull at his lip.

he smiles, “i'm not going to kiss you because you're under the mistletoe.”

your eyes glance up at his, “you're not?” not to make assumptions, but, where else was this heading? was he really just teasing me?

he smiles, “do you want me to?”

you open your mouth but no words come out. i wasn't sure what i wanted. life's biggest dilemma, you guess. admit you're head over heels infatuated, arguably even in love, with your best friend, effectively changing your relationship forever, or live on knowing you chose safety over happiness.

he pulled you closer, “if i were to kiss you, it'd be because i want to.” he says suddenly, making your head spin like you were thrown onto a merry-go-round with no idea how to get off.

he watches your reaction intently and giggles quietly, “and maybe because it's bad luck if we don't, and i know how superstitious you are.”

you steady yourself by grabbing onto his arm and look up at him, “did you just confess or are you kidding?”

he scoffs, “you think i'd joke about having feelings for you? honestly i thought you knew.” you shake your head and he scratches the back of his neck, “a-actually, i wanted to kiss you the day i put this up. i couldn't get you to come this way though, you were dead-set on your decorating so i gave up.” he bites his lip to hold back a smile, “and watching you run around with a cheesy smile all day was worth the wait, you were so happy i didn't want to ruin it with my stupid confession.”

all the pieces fall into place in my mind as he speaks. he really hadn't hid it at all, you'd just been oblivious or too scared to see what was in front of you the whole time. jungkook was your only real friend, and you’d mistakened all of his moves for something a “flirty best friend” would do, when a part of you knew that just didn't fit.

“kiss me.” you tell him

“what?” he asks quickly, bewildered by your sudden change in behavior.

you laugh at his flustered state and grab at the back of his neck, he takes the hint and soon enough he’s just as close as he was before. “y/n you don't have to-”

but you did, have to. you repressed your thoughts and feelings for so long and dreamed what this would be, you were not going to be stupid any longer, he's right in front of you. you pulled him into you and pressed your lips against his.

his lips were as perfect as you’d always thought they'd be. soft and smooth, his obsession with chapstick really does pay off. butterflies danced in your stomach and you’re sure he could feel the heat on your cheeks. it was painfully sweet, he was gentle and you were impatient, the only thing in common was neither of you could pull away.

and when he finally did, you both stood breathlessly.

“w-why did you do that.” is the first thing he says.

you frown jokingly, “no bad luck.”

he gives a fake smile with a disheartened laugh, “oh.” his arms fall from your waist as he attempts to take a step back.

you grin and grab his arm, “where are you going? i'm not done.”

“i am, this was a bad idea. you shouldn't kiss someone you don't like, y/n.”

you look at him with furrowed eyebrows, “but i do.”

he looks down at you, not believing your words one bit, and you realize you're not on the same page at all, “you don't have to lie to not hurt my feelings either-”

“i'm not lying jungkook!” you raise your voice, “stop being so dense! how could i not fall for you?” you take a breath and compose yourself as he stares through you, “i thought this whole time that we were just friends, you're right. b-but i was just afraid this was all in my head, a-and you were just being you and i would be a fool to to think too much into it.” you stare down at your feet, “a-and you’re the only person i can't afford losing, jungkook. if confessing meant possibly losing you, i couldn't do it.”

he sighs and nods, “i get it, i was scared too, but i think it's worth it, if it meant i get to be with you.”

you chuckle and push him away for being so cheesy but he pulls you closer and holds you tighter. “so, just to be sure-”

“i like you too, jungkook.”

he nods solemnly. “bet you're glad i put that stupid mistletoe up now, huh?”

you look up at him as he sways you gently back and forth, “i guess it can stay for a while longer.”

* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚

some CHEESE for your holiday season. thank you for reading :)) happy holidays!!

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taglist: @marvelahsobx @notbotheredtho @fragmentof-indifference @jwnghyuns @isab3lita @shescharlie @heronstairsxd @kooookie @jeonzll @nickyisityou @laylasbunbunny @instabull @xjiminsthighsx @iceykoo

[cillianscrybaby]

One Day You'll Speak

(Peaky Blinders fanfiction. WARNING: blood, violence, attempted sexual assault. If you're a fan of the show, you know how violent it is.)

You would do it again, not one ounce of guilt is in you as you grip the knife in your hand, the blood warm and slick while your heart races, tense, staring back.

"Fucking little bitch!", he spits at you, one hand holding his face while blood seeps from behind his hand.

"Come here-!", he lunges at you and you lash out again, stepping back to avoid his filthy hands.

"She bloody fucking cut me up! I'll kill her!"

"What is going on here?", a husky voice asks as a gang of servants and others are gathered around the scene.

There was an almost squeal of excitement as they watched, he lunges for you again but because of the blood in his eyes he misses, falling to the hard floor.

"What the fuck is going on here, eh?!", the voice got louder and you saw him coming through the small crowd.

Tommy Shelby.

The man your father gave you away to because of debts he couldn't pay. So now you're working in the kitchens, peeling potatoes for stews but now in the presence of Peaky Blinders.

His cold blue eyes take in the scene, the man groaning and cursing on the floor, the table with food and bowls knocked everywhere, the knife still in a death grip in your hand.

"Drop it.", he tells you, but you don't, you don't even nod your head no, instead you raise the knife, trying to keep your hand from shaking as you point it at Thomas Shebly.

Author steps forward to grab the man you cut by his coat, dragging him to his feet and some grimacing at the gash you had put across his face.

"Little bitch knifed me-Fucking hell-", he groans out, almost stumbling to the floor again, "Was only trying to have a bit of fun. A quick fuck."

Tommy blinks slow, understanding the situation more now but it doesn't change the fact that now you're pointing a knife at him, the man everyone knows better than to cross.

"Take him and get him stitched up.", Tommy instructs, "Everyone else out...", his eyes on you the whole time he's speaking, "I'm gonna ask you again, put down the knife."

He takes a step towards you and you lashed out, a small cry of defiance leaving your lips but you're losing your nerve.

It's like he's not afraid of you, not afraid to be cut, dodging your swings and eventually capturing your wrist, slamming you back against the wall to unarm you, the bloody blade clattering to the floor.

"I told you to fucking drop it, eh? You don't listen?", he rasps down at you as you struggled in his hold, "I hear you don't talk. I don't know if it's because you can't or because you don't want to but I know you can fucking listen and understand me when I tell you to do something."

It's not that you're mute, there was a time, as a child, that you could talk and sing and laugh, but it had been beaten out of you so you learned to observe and obey the best you could. Not that it helped, here you were, in service to Tommy Shelby because your father gambled and drank too much, owing to the Peaky Blinders so of course it's easier to simply get rid of you as payment.

Gritting your teeth, you tried to shove him off, stomping his toes and fine leather shoes which only resulted in him gripping your face harshly with a hand covered in a black leather glove, the other coming up to strike you while his body held you to the wall.

You flinched, cringing up and waiting but the blow never came, Tommy's hand loosening up its hold on your face.

Feeling him lean down, closer, your eyes opened and saw that cold expression had yet to change.

"I don't like blood all over my food. Now, you are here to settle a debt.", he explains to you, "And since you can't handle working down here I'm going to have to put you to work somewhere else..."

That was your first encounter with Tommy Shelby.

(I haven't written in ages. I would like to continue this while I have the inspiration.)

[factorialsotherfandoms]

This is like... not really canon, but not really au either? I'd say its 'events that happened offscreen' sort of canon, but like the building Cellbit and Forever are in doesn't exist in the actual server either. But it's not heavily important. So just. Roll with it, I guess (normally for canon stuff I scour screenshots for the buildings. I cannot be bothered today, so fuck it, whatever's convenient.)

TW: gunshot wounds, horrific medical practice (if you get shot go see a doctor), blood, idk why Cellbit and Forever want to argue but they do

Cellbit looks up from his book, only to see Forever stumble in. For a moment the other man looks exhausted, and pained, clutching at his arm and hissing in a deep breath.

And then Forever's eyes latch on to Cellbit's form. Immediately he straightens up, lets go of the arm, and hides himself in a grin, "Cellbo! Hi~"

"What did you do?" Cellbit snaps his book shut, and looks at his friend. He doesn't have the energy for this - it's not really a puzzle, it's just the standard dumbassery of their group.

"Me? Nothing!" Forever is edging around the sitting room towards the kitchen.

Cellbit levels him with a glare, "why can I see blood on your sleeve, then?"

"Shit!"

Easy, easy; there's not really blood on Forever's sleeve, but he still looks down at his arm.

"Sit down," Cellbit doesn't leave him other options. "I'll get the first aid kit."

There's a few moments of standoff before Forever relents, sitting heavily on one of the armchairs. Cellbit makes sure he looks like he is staying before slipping around to the kitchen. There's more in their first aid kit than the name implies - the island is a dangerous place and help is rarely available and even less frequently without a price - but still it's kept under the sink.

He also grabs a glass of fruit juice, and some of the cookies Richas had both made and abandoned earlier. Their egg has run off to build with Pac and Mike, now, but the cookies are still warm.

Cellbit returns to the sitting room, and shoves the cookies in Forever's face.

"Richas made them," he says, before a complaint can be raised.

Forever pouts as he takes one, but he does eat.

Still he doesn't say what he did. Cellbit, equally stubborn, grabs his sleeve and rolls it up himself.

Taped to his upper arm is a wad of blood-soaked gauze, and it really is a wonder there /wasn't/ blood on Forever's sleeve.

"Forever!" he scolds, already starting to peel the dressing away. "What did you do?!"

"I didn't do anything!" Forever attempts to defend. "It was Cucurucho who shot me! But it's fine! I patched it up, see?"

Cellbit goes dead still.

"What. Did you say."

"Err..." Forever looks suitably nervous.

Cellbit knows he himself looks like tortured prey, but he hopes it only adds to the effect. "You're supposed to tell us these things, Forever, we're your family! What if he shot you somewhere else?! Took you away? We're here for you!"

Forever turns his eyes on Cellbit, candlelight making them flicker between brown and black, "like you tell us anything either!"

Cellbit can't defend himself a whole lot against that - he slams his hand over the wound, putting pressure on it, and uses his other to find a needle and thread.

"Where's the exit wound?"

Nervous laughter is his reply.

"Fuck you, Forever, what were you going to do about it?!"

If he's anything like Cellbit - and they're more alike than most can see - the answer is ignore it until it's become such a problem

The laughter pitches more. Cellbit forces painkillers and the juice onto his friend, before giving him a roll of unused bandages to bite on, and grabs the tweezers instead.

Cellbit's hands aren't the steadiest, not these days and not with so little sleep, but he keeps them steady as he can. Forever goes blissfully - worryingly - quiet as he uses one hand to dab the blood away, and readies the tweezers with the other.

Thankfully, the bullet remained intact. Less thankfully, it clipped against Forever's bone, shifting its angle. Cellbit finds himself having to make another cut in Forever's arm - the whine that comes with it is pained, and Cellbit cannot blame him - to safely pull the bullet out.

Knife in flesh again - how strange to be doing harm to heal, and not just to feed. There's been a lot of changes, these years, and maybe some are for the better.

By the time the bullet is removed, Forever is shaking more than Cellbit's hands. Still there is work to be done - Cellbit pours most of the bottle of antiseptic over the wound, making sure to touch everywhere the bullet did. He drains it as best he can, and then returns to the needle and thread.

Layer by layer he stitches Forever's flesh back together, making sure the form holds. Forever's nails dig into his leg, even as he gasps around the bandages in his mouth and shudders in pain.

Cellbit ignores him.

He's gotten very good at ignoring other people's pain over the years.

Eventually he's done. Then - and only then - does he free Forever's mouth.

"Fuck me," are the first words from Forever's mouth.

Cellbit ignores him, unwrapping some fresh gauze and bandages with which to cover the wound, "I'll check it again in the morning - if it starts feeling too warm, let someone know."

"I know what to do with an injury, Cellbo," Forever breathes the words between hisses. "We've done this before."

"Do you?" Cellbit asks. "Because that definitely needed two hands, idiot! What, you'd have just slept with the bullet still there."

Fingers, somewhat shaky in their turn, find their way into Cellbit's hair.

Cellbit pauses, and breathes, and leans forwards. He wraps his arms around Forever's back and crushes his face into the back of the sofa.

"Don't scare me like that," Cellbit says. "Getting shot by Cucurucho is not a small thing."

"It's happened to everyone else," Forever shrugs a bit. "Was bound to happen to me."

"... I'm going to kill that fucking bear."

Forever laughs, loud and true, but his hands shake as he holds Cellbit back.

"I'm serious, Forever, I'm going to kill that bear and I'm going to feast on it's remains."

"I'm sure you will," Forever replies. "I'm sure you will."

It sounds like a platitude. Cellbit is quite serious with his intention - he has been for a while - but no matter.

Just as soon as he knows his family are safe from the repercussions, they will see.

They will all, each and every one of them, see.

[baizhuswifey]

Baizhu sugar daddy fanfic

A little description

So lately you've been on whatever the genshin version of tender is and you meet the man of your dreams he's tall, he's handsome, he's gorgeous, he's polite, he's rich, he's kind,and he's a DOCTOR.say less am I right he's the most awesome amazing man you have ever seen. You guys schedule a day all that nice stuff,he ends up getting you both a reservation to this really really nice restaurant it's nice and stuff but it's for them RICH RICH PEOPLE.you don't even know if you got the right type clothes for it.spending half your pay check just for a new outfit and some jewelry.anyways into the fanfic

*you get a call from your date saying he's outside your house to pick you up for your date you expect to see a random old Toyota and him dressed casually......you were wrong you step out the house and he said "sorry this is the most normal looking I have" BRO PULLED UP WITH A WHOLE LAMBORGHINI LIKE ITS NORMAL "uhm...*gulp* that's totally I guess" you manage to get out of your mouth before you break down in tears begging him to marry you...."you look gorgeous tonight may I say that outfit you have certainly fits you" he says grabbing your wrist kissing your hand "also may I say whatever perfume you are wearing smells very nice, I pick the write person to go on a date with, am I right???" He says to you jokingly "thank you you're very nice" you say back snickering a little knowing it came right out of the 50 percent off basket from bath and body works or maybe stolen from your schools lost and found bucket???"anyways I booked us a nice reservation at this really nice hotel now it isn't five star but it is very nice please forgive me" he loudly whispers "it's okay I would've been fine if you took me to a chick fila and I would have loved it" you thought as you quietly and awkwardly giggled......"hehe...it's okay I guess" you say

"no really I wanted to take you to the best of the best restaurant but all I could find that wasn't fully booked"

Time skip

"here's the restaurant where you can order anything you would like cheesecake wine steak,whatever you please" he says,gently holding your hand. "Please help yourself..." You brighten up slightly "but I would prefer we get desert together somewhere else perhaps" immediately you get to ordering "I want a medium well steak with a side of broccoli cheese and rice casserole extra cheese then I want a blah blah blah blah blah" and you went on and on and on

Your food finally gets here and you start shoving your mouth full "damn dear you can put it down" he whispers as he quietly eats his chicken Alfredo while watching you eat ,mesmerized at how fast and how much you can eat..."it's like you don't feed yourself at home"........munch munch much "oh yea I'm broke and I eat like 99 cent ramen for breakfast lunch and dinner" you say chowing down on what you could say was the best meal of your life "slow down the foods not going anywhere"he says grabbing a napkin and wiping your chin and lips "pretty people like you shouldn't eat so..... roughly.."you gently look up at him admiring his pretty amber eyes

I'll write. Chapter when I'm not such a busy bee

(so so sorry guys it took me like a week as said I'm a busy bee with bad grades)

Also taking fanfic ideas of baizhu and I will try to write on time this time😭😭

[mishkakagehishka]

Can i request one where Leo finds the reader (gender neutral) singing one of the songs he finished composing? But when they finally notice Leo they immediately make a run for it, I'll leave the rest to you!

Of course! I'm not sure how pleased I am with how this one turned out, though, I seem to oscillate between liking and disliking it, but I hope it's fine <3

Word count: 1191 Summary: Leo has once again lost his compositions somewhere around the ES building. But, when he hears singing from another room, he finds both his song and the chance to deepen his relationship with the Producer. Notes: reader fulfils the role of the Producer here, and there's no established relationship between them and Leo. Warnings: reader gets kabedon'd in one part

Once again, Leo found himself searching for his own composition around the ES building. Although he’s usually not as careless with them (or so he thinks, at least), he just couldn’t find the papers with his newest masterpiece anywhere in his bag - which prompted him to think that he must have left them somewhere in the building itself, where he'd been writing that day. Though, where he was writing exactly… He walked through the hallways, backtracking through all the rooms he’s been in during the workday. Thankfully, he was supposed to leave work relatively early, so nothing was closed yet, otherwise he’d probably have to leave the search for next day - and by then, his papers could have ended up thrown away. Leo sighed, scolding himself for not being more careful. For not using his brain more.

Leo was quick on his feet as he went room to room, making sure to check everywhere thoroughly. He was leaving no stone unturned - after all, he wanted to polish up that composition back at the dorms. Maybe even call Ruka and ask her for help with writing lyrics for it. But he just had no idea where he'd left it. He was getting frustrated, groaning as he dragged his feet out of the dance practise room. Gnashing his teeth and bunching up the hem of his shirt in his hand, he moved once more through the ES halls. There was only one more room he could think of to check - the resting room.

Face to face with the door, he took a deep breath, praying that he was going to find his papers in that room. He didn't know what he was going to do if he didn't find them - considering he has no idea where else they could possibly be. He’d exhausted every other option by that point, and this was truly his last hope. Although the loss of a paper wasn't that big of a deal, as Leo naturally remembers each one of his masterpieces and could easily rewrite it, he wanted to save himself the effort (and worry). Having said his small prayer, he placed his hand on the doorknob.

But he paused. For a moment, he'd heard a voice on the other side of the door. At first, he thought he'd imagined it, however when he quieted down and focused, he heard it again. Singing. No words, but simply singing out a tune. One familiar to him. It was his song. The song that is yet to be even shown to the other members of the Knights, to anyone else, so - he happily concluded - this is where his papers were left. The person singing will know where those papers are because they've obviously seen them.

"He~y!" He slammed open the door, nearly having it fly off its hinges, in his excitement. "Is that my song?" He laughed. But the person nearly jumped out of their skin at his sudden intrusion. "Oh! Producer, it was you?" He asked. The Producer seemed… embarrassed to say the least. A deep blush spread across their cheeks once the situation finally registered in their mind. They quickly jumped to their feet, running past Leo and out of the room, shoving a bunch of papers into his chest in passing. With no words, they disappeared from the room in moments, and Leo was left to wonder whether he ever even really saw them there. He took a passing glance at said papers, just to confirm it was his compositions, but he had better things to think about at that moment.

He carelessly shoved the papers into his bag before running out, after the Producer. "Hey, wait! I wanna talk to you!" He whined. Despite the Producer being quick on their feet, Leo was still faster - and had more endurance - and he caught up with them in no time. Barely out of breath as he slowed down before running up behind them, he grabbed their forearm. As he forced them to turn around (though gently), he pushed them against the wall. Caging them with his left forearm leaned against the wall by their side and their arm still in his hand. Though his grasp was gentler, he still didn't let go, and now they were almost forehead-to-forehead, chest-to-chest.

"Why'd you run?" It was as if his eyes suddenly became thrice their original size, and his frown further emphasised the puppy-eyes he was pointing at them. "Because..! I-it's embarrassing," the Producer stuttered out, trying to squirm out of his hold. Noticing their discomfort, he let go with an apology, sheepishly stepping away. "There's not much embarrassing about it? You were just singing, right?" "Well, yeah, but…" "I liked it! You made my song sound great! I think I want you to help me finish it," he skipped right to the chase. His smile was disarming, but he truly sounded like he meant it - both the compliment and the offer.

In truth, he was captivated by their singing voice. Being the Producer meant none of the idols of ES, of Yumenosaki, had heard them sing before, so Leo was pleasantly surprised when he opened that door and connected the angelic voice to his dear Producer. In fact, it made him feel somewhat special, being the first one to hear them sing, as well as for writing a song that they deemed catchy enough to sing. Even if it was unfinished. "Come on! Help your idol out? Pretty plea~se?" "Um, I won't have to sing, will I?" "Wahaha! Of course you will! I think I want this song to be for you, after all, so you should be able to sing it," he said as if it was entirely natural, leaving the Producer speechless for a moment.

But he shot a mischievous smile at them, patting the top of their head before stepping back again. "Thanks for finding my masterpiece, I was looking all over for it," he complained, "but I gotta go now. I'll see you tomorrow! I'm keeping you to your promise to help me!" He threw a final peace sign at them and skipped away, making sure not to let them "remind" him that they hadn't promised anything. This way, he’s got his little victory, and he was going to make sure he’d be able to give them his best masterpiece thus far the next day. Written for them, dedicated to them.

In the end, losing those papers turned out to be a blessing in disguise, a massive stroke of luck for the genius composer. For Leo who'd been battling a crush on the Producer for the entire last year, ever since he’d met them. Maybe he could even confess through the lyrics of this new song he'd decided, so impulsively, to dedicate to them… Maybe he’ll even skip on asking Ruka for help. After all, he wanted his own feelings, and only his feelings, for them to be found in that song. And he went home beyond giddy that day, excited to see how everything will unfold in the end, and heart overflowing with inspiration.

[scifrey]

NINE-TENTHS

Part Six

I get all of the gear flicked on, checking water levels and pulling the wands out of the sanitizer, then grind the first pot for the perc. As the espresso machine chugs its way to wakefulness, I peer into garbage cans and inspect tables. The till is all counted out neatly, with a post-it note reminding me to buy a roll of quarters stuck to the crisp purple stack of tens. 

Obviously Min-soo closed last night, ‘cause she always kills it.

In the dark kitchen, I crank the industrial oven up as high as it will go to pre-warm, scoop dough from the huge bowl Min-soo made last night onto trays, and climb the ladder to dump a burlap sack of fresh beans into the massive stainless steel bean roaster in pride of place in the corner of the kitchen. 

In my back pocket, my phone starts playing a punk version of You're the Cream in My Coffee. Shit. That's my alarm to start the second batch of scones. Dammit. I don't have time to let the oven preheat properly. I shove the tray in.

Then it’s back out to the front, where he is sitting primly in his corner, eyes on his newspaper. 

Yeah, I'm a basic bitch and prefer coffee that's more sugar and froth than bean juice, but there’s something so good about fresh-brewed black coffee first thing in the morning. That's art in its own right, my loves. I interrupt the drip machine to pour myself a mug, and I take one selfish minute to revel in a perfect sip.

But what is usually a soft symphony of my mornings is instead a self-inflicted agony. The plink of coffee into the carafe, the hiss of the espresso machine, the hum and clunk of the bean-roster in action, all punctuated by the crisp rustle of his newspaper? Agony.

A year ago, I would use this quiet time to work on my thesis. Before that, it would have been an essay, or a lab, or something else I’d procrastinated. Now, I have nothing to work on. Nothing to do but this. Nowhere to go but here. No career, no demand, no drive, just… 

Me. 

And him. 

And the stretching, hissing, clunking, dripping silence. 

 "Ugh, get your ass in gear, you embarrassment," I mutter to myself.

"Beg pardon?" he asks, voice raised politely.

Shit. 

"I said, uh, the espresso machine is warmed up. Caffe tobio?" 

"Please." He crosses his legs. There's a flash of turquoise at his ankle. I only catch it for a second, but it looks like he's wearing socks with cartoon dragons on them. Huh, okay… that’s more playful than I expected him to be. 

"Coming right up."

"I appreciate it. And you are well?" he says, which is the longest string of words I've ever heard out of him. Shame.

"Yeah." I turn to the machine, tapping out a careful twenty-seven seconds with the toe of my chucks, timing as the espresso fills the demitasse. So I'm completely in my head, and totally not expecting it when his voice comes from somewhere much too close, just over my left shoulder. 

"Oversleeping could be the sympto—" 

"Gah!" I shout, and Christ no, the wand in my hand goes flying up, up, sprinkling boiling-hot grounds like freaking pixie dust. 

He ducks and snaps the newspaper over his head as they rain down. The sharp clatter of the wand hitting the tile makes us both wince. We stare across the counter at one another, eyes wide, with what I assume are matching shocked expressions.

"Are you—" he starts again and I hold out a hand to stop him. 

"I'm fine." 

"I've never known you to—" 

"Shit, you're chatty today," Maybe that came out cattier than it should have. He flinches, stung. A glob of espresso grounds plops off his shoulder and splats on the tile floor. "Sorry, sorry! That came out wrong. I'm not… I'm not having a good morning." 

"My apologies," he murmurs mournfully, and aw, no. 

"I'll make you another one," I say quickly. "On the house. Just… sit, and I'll—" 

"Perhaps I should go." He lowers his paper and flicks grounds off the toe of his shoe. Oh, shit, are they expensive? Am I going to have to pay for, I dunno, shoe dry cleaning? 

"No, please." That lurch in my stomach again, and it's only because a morning that has started terribly (and has only gotten worse) would really become awful if he wasn’t sitting in the sunlight, glimmering and reading.

It would be just wrong.

"If you are ill, you ought to be taking care of yourself first. Don't you have a colleague who could cover—" 

"I got a new alarm clock, I didn't wake up, it’s fine, it doesn’t matter."

"It does to me." He crunches the ruined paper in his hands, flexing and twisting. "In fact, I, er, perhaps it is time I confessed that… I smell something burning." 

"You smell burning?" I swig another mouthful of coffee from the mug I'd left by the till, and take a deep breath to calm myself. Wait. "I smell it, too." 

His eyes flick to the door behind me, slit pupils dilating. "The kitchen." 

"The scones!" I squawk and spin on the spot. I slip in spilled espresso, toppling sideways. Before I can hit the ground, he lunges across the countertop, catching my arm in a grip that's stronger than I think he realizes. It also prickles. 

Trying to get my stupid feet under me, I catch the barest flash of red scale and black, long-tipped nails. Then his hand is back to perfectly pale peach, fussily manicured, and human. 

I shrug him off and push through the door. I shouldn't have gasped, that was a stupid thing to do when the air is heavy with smoke. But I do, and jerk to a stop, folding double, coughing. He runs into me. I nearly topple. That prickling grip pulls me upright again. 

"What can I do to—" he starts, but the fire alarm cuts him off.

"I forgot to turn down the goddamn oven!" 

"I'll get it." He reaches out with his free hand. It's covered in deep red scales, his fingertips ending in delicately curved claws. 

Holy crap.

He's dexterous, able to work the knob, then swing down the oven door. Black smoke, oily with burning fats, cascades into our faces. I cover my mouth and nose with the edge of my Henley, eyes burning. 

"Oven mitts!" I warn. 

"Not necessary!" He's got the tray balanced in his claws. "Where should I—?" 

And that's when the fire suppression system kicks in. 

It lets out a sharp, high whistle that startles him so badly the claws of the hand holding my arm spasm. They go right through my shirt and into flesh. 

I holler. 

Five things happen at once. 

First, he drops the tray of scones. It clatters off the tile, sending burnt pucks of dough into the air. One smacks into my leg, and two pelt him as we dance away. 

Second, he yanks his claws out of my arm, blood on the tips, and freaking hell, it stings. 

Third, white foam pours from the pipes that ring the kitchen ceiling, coating every surface in a bitter-tasting cloud. Including us.

Fourth, the guy makes a sort of gurgling belch noise, then a sharp bony click accompanied by a spark that looks exactly like the kind you get from a lighter. 

Fifth, he spits fire. 

Right into the corner. Where the giant custom bean roaster is. The drum is perforated, and the beans inside it immediately go up in flames. They're so hot they burn blue. The steel drum starts to goddamn melt.

"Coc y gath," he gasps in horror, dithering on the spot.

"Holy shit," I say, clamping my hand down over the punctures in my arm.

"I'm terribly sorry!" he shouts over the sound of the alarm and the hiss of the foam deflating around us. "I didn't mean to—I was startled!" 

The urgency of the situation suddenly hits home, fire crawling up the wall toward the ceiling, and I scream: "Put it out!" 

"What do you want me to do? Suck it back up?" he shouts back, all his cool calm evaporating in the heat of the inferno. "I'm a dragon, not a fire extinguisher!" 

Well. 

Fuck this meet-cute straight to hell, then.

Previous Part | Next Part | Read on Wattpad

[minty-fics]

Salt 'n Stairs

Presyncope/Orthostatic Intolerance fic3 

No way am i reading this again to fix anything, thatll be a problem for later minty

Word count: 677

BNHA / MHA / Hero Aca

Gender Neutral c/n

Interaction with TestuTestu, could maybe possibly be read as romantic if you look through the right angle but is mostly just very friendly with a bit of trying to ‘save face’

Summary: Early in the morning c/n runs into TestuTestu in the staircase and he doesnt seem to be doing too well at the moment.

--

"Shit!" A gruff hushed voice whispered, clearly annoyed or mad in some way.

Upon hearing the expletive c/n looks up to find the metallic hero student TetsuTestu… leaning against the wallrailing of the staircase. He closes his eyes and tries to calm the nausea that slowly settles down, yet the slight ringing in his head doesn't go away quite so easily.

"Testu?   ..... You okay over there?"

In shock he turns toward c/n's voice and as he moves he clutches the railing a lil tighter, keeping his balance better and ensuring he stays in place (as opposed to say falling face down on the stairs).

"C/n!? What, what are you doing there?" The boy tries to straighten his posture to make it seem like he wasn't relying on the railing of the staircase to keep him from falling over.

"It's pretty early I've never seen anyone else in this staircase at this time."

"Oh I was actually trying to return something to (name of some other 2a student) before it got too late."

"But TestuTestu." The seriousness in the tone of their voice worries and somewhat confuses him, causing his eyebrows to furl in response.

"You haven't answered my question. Are you okay over there?"

As they spoke c/n walked up the stairs towards the kid who finally seemed like maybe he could stand on his own.

"A-ah, um. I'm fine, nothing out of the normal. Just on my way to get some breakfast, yknow gotta get something in the stomach before starting the day."

At this point they're within a more normal distance for a conversation, and c/n's brows also furl after taking in the physical condition of their classmate.

"You're looking a lil pale, and. You do know you're shaking right?"

/what/

"Well barely shaking nearly swaying. You sure you're feeling okay dude? Wanna sit for a moment?"

.... 0.0

"I just need to get some food first then I'll be fine.... can't really take my iron supplements on an empty stomach."

The problem in this solution is getting to the kitchen or dining hall to get some food, and theres three sets of stairs between him and this goal. Stairs that would be much easier to traverse if he wasn't off-balance and tired.

"Ahhh. May I ask, you've said you have an iron deficiency, is it making you dizzy or nauseous right now?"

"Um, yeah actually. But I'll be fine. How, or, why do you know that it can appear like that?"

"Oh, I actually deal with a fairly similar condition. I get presyncope symptoms too, and in trying to figure out why my body does this I read about how iron deficiencies can cause the same things." "If you're desperate right now, or if you just think it'll help, I got some salt with me."

C/n reaches into one of their pockets to reveal a tiny repurposed mint container, shaking it to hear the tiny tiny sound of salt clusters shaking in the container.

"You don't have to its yours!" TestuTestu tries to courteously refuse but c/n is already shoving it towards his hands.

"I have extras in my school bag and somewhere in my room. Just take it. I'm not sure if it'll help you like it does me but it won't hurt to try. Go ahead."

They smile as TestuTestu grabs the container from them and opens it. "Thank you."    He pours the salty contents in his mouth and makes a grimace-y face at the intensity of the taste.

"I'm actually gonna just sit here for a minute, but you should really get that thing to (name from before). Maybe if I'm still here by the time you're coming back down we can both go grab something to eat before the day actually starts."

"Oh shit, (name from before)'s items. Thanks." They start to ascend the stairs again. "And Testu, take care of yourself and be careful on these stairs when you're dizzy like that alright?"

"Alriggghht." He fakes annoyance but end his sentence with a beaming smile as c/n climbs the stairs to the next floor.

[palant1r]

Could I have some of your matsulight headcanons please?

absolutely you can. i am shoving them into your hands as if pouring barbecue sauce into them

so. i have two general Matsulight Flavors. the first is the tragic canon one-sided matsulight. the second is matsulight in an au where yotsuba light never gets the notebook back and everything is Fine

also theres a lot of stuff based off of canon that i'm gonna leave out here because a lot of it isn't headcanons, it's a reading of canon.

one universal constant i love is matsuda teaching light how to fire a handgun. im a sucker for people seeing matsuda's Hidden Competence, and i think firearms would be something light has no experience in. so i really like the idea of matsuda being the authority on something for once and helping light get a firearm certification so he can be a full NPA agent. its about the intimacy of showing someone how to kill in hopes that it'll save their life one day. will NOT get into how guns play into death note here but its A Lot i think

in canon, i think matsuda falls for light offscreen, somewhere in the time skip. i think he spends a lot of time at the apartment, sleeping on light's couch. and misa strikes me as a late riser, while light totally gets up at the crack of dawn. i hc they spent a lot of quiet mornings together — at first awkwardly, then later in comfortable silence. maybe talking about kira before the rest of the task force arrived, matsuda voicing the doubts he wouldn't say in front of anyone else and light helping them along. in the process of trying to manipulate him, light finds himself being more honest with matsuda than he is with anyone else. more honest than he's ever been since getting that notebook. (also theres humor in these mornings i think. because light absolutely has a 12 step skincare routine and spends a lot of time on his appearance and then matsuda just rolls out of bed clear-skinned and puts on contacts. thats it. and hes STILL hot.) (oh yeah i think matsuda wears contacts, but in the evenings he wears thick-framed glasses and light thinks they're cute)

light doesn't even like coffee but he still takes it every time matsuda gives it to him. not kira light is averse to breaking Any social cue that could make him seem anything but perfect and kira light thinks it makes him more focused. he tries to enjoy bitter things out of spite for L. he fails. he'd rather have a frappe than espresso, but he'll admit that on his deathbed

i think after soichirou's death matsuda tried to lend light emotional support and light pretended to need it. if i think about this too much i'll get sad

also i think matsuda doesn't realize he's in love with light for a while because he thinks his feelings are jealousy/envy. like "wow light is always so put together and cool and hot and i get all jealous when he goes on dates...it must be because i want to be like him and im jealous of those women ahaha"

light ALSO wouldn't realize his own feelings for a while but that's because even no memories light would repress the hell out of them. he's neurotic <3

in a universe where they actually get together, matsuda absolutely makes the first move at the most random and unexpected time. dude's a wildcard. no one knows what matsuda is going to do next least of all matsuda. light THINKS he's able to predict him but he was quite definitively proven wrong. matsuda's the type of mf to confess his undying love at a Wendys.

so that's a start! hehe if anyone else has matsulight hcs please add them in a reblog, i wanna meet my fellow rowboat captains in the Matsulight Fleet

[itsyagurlchip]

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑.Video Game Lover𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Donnie x Reader 💜

ੈ✩‧₊˚cuss warning!

ੈ✩‧₊˚Donnie loves to talk about his inventions! Everyone knows that. So when he gets near the reader, why does he get so quiet? Anyone sniffing out some 2018 glmm? Many adventures indeed, some easy while others aren't.This is the prologue btw.

(chapter 1)

Something had been off about Donnie. You weren't sure why, but everytime you walked in the room his face would turn slightly red, and he would start mumbling in the middle of his science rants. If you had made a move to stand 6 feet from him, he would either find somewhere else to sit, or he would leave the room. The weird part was, you and Donnie were besties. He would let you into his lab, you ask him about his day, and sometimes he would even let you help on the small parts of inventions! 

Nowadays he avoids you, every time you walk in his lab he stays quiet the whole time. One day even went as far as ignoring you the whole time at the lair. When you asked about it, his face got red, he looked to the side, and walked away slowly. At first you thought nothing of it, maybe you got a bit close to Donnie and he needed space, but this has been going on for almost half a year. The only words you guys occasionally share are "Hey", "greetings", and "see you later". And don't get me started on texting.

"Is he angry at me? If so, he needs to let me know…what's going on Dee?" I asked as I was laying down on my bed, the room decorated with bits and pieces of sewer decor from the turtles. Mikey and Leo would show up and give me small rocks, chunks of cool shaped metals, and vintage or rare items that were once lost. To put it simply, my whole room looked like a garage for a mini hoarder. 

My phone fell on my face for the umpteenth time, I'm pretty sure it's supposed to be bruised by now.

As soon as I sat up, I got a text from the team's group chat. I think I'm their getaway, and sometimes last resort to things because I don't join missions often. Which is fine with me, I have school and exams for the end of the year.

_____________________________

Cool Reptilians+2 hoomans ig

he does look like  

an old peanut…

3:43 pm

navysimp  

@ifeedustraws-

@ifeedustraws!!

dude [name]

hey you gotta come over!

ITS DONNIE

ifeedustraws

alr

I honestly hope he's breathing

I can never tell what u guys do

I'll be there in abt 10

ieathestraws

hurry!!

Dee is not okay 😥

As Mikey was the last to respond, I closed my phone and grabbed my shoes and hurried behind my apartment. I lift the cover and look away, needing a few moments before the stench went back into my nose. I jumped into the sewers, already regretting it as gunk splashed onto my legs. I gag aggressively, this shit is chunky and slimy as fuck. No matter how many times I jump in, I will still never get used to it. I get out of the weird stuff, and run on the side, rushing to the lair.

I'm so glad I memorized the way from the house to the lair, or I would've been lost by now. I see fairy lights as I approach the turtle's home, no one seems to be in the main atrium. Infact, the whole place seems to be empty, except for Donnie's lab. I huff heavily and groan at the thought of having to climb after running.

I climb up to the second floor and walk towards the purple doors. Me not running, and not doing the pacer test has put a strain on me. I stood up straight and fixed my hair, along with my clothes, and took a deep breath before knocking.

"Hey guys? You in there, you said that something's wrong with Donnie?" I called out, a few beats of silence before the door suddenly opened. I was instantly dragged into the room of tech, purple and blue lights tinting everything inside. Turns out, it was Mikey who grabbed me. He looked panicked as we went towards Donnie's computer.

"Leo said something about you taking too long? And then Raph went after him, April is busy right now, and you know Dad…" Mikey explained as he shoved me to the screen. Looking closely, you could see a sprite of Donnie going in circles, like it was a loading screen.

"Donnie making a game of himself is normal, what's wrong?" I was starting to get impatient, if this was a prank I'm beating that turtle's ass.

"That's the problem! That IS Donnie!! We went to Mystic City, and Donnie bought this sketchy game called- i-don't know! it's these weird symbols!" He showed the case of the game, me only noticing now that his hands were shaking. '⚐☠☜ 💧☟⚐❄' was plastered along the screen.

"One shit?" I said aloud, the language confusing me. My hands were on my hips now, deadpanning at Mikey. Now this is just getting annoying.

"Huh? you can read it?"

"Of course, as a former Undertale fan, that font is called wingdings. That's not the point though, where is Donnie so I can shove this shi up-"

"B-but [name]! Donnie is in the game. I'm serious! He went in after he pressed start! Or enter? I DON'T KNOW!! I just want my brother back." He started crying, grabbing my legs and sobbing into my knees.

"hush sweet child, I'll get him out" I say, nearing my hand to the keyboard, struggling to stand because of Mikey's grip.

"[name]? what are you-waitwaitwait-Dont- NOO!" It was too late, as I had already tripped over, pressing the button. My body started to pixelate and slowly fade. Is this Jumanji? IM GONNA FUCKIN DIE-

"MIKEY GO TO YOUR BROTHERS, HURRY DUDE!!"As if the game had heard me, my body started fading faster, making me panic. Mikey went to go to the door, only to be blasted back by Raph and Leo.

"[NAME]? ARE YOU- oh shit"

"MIKEY WHY DIDN'T YOU WARN THEM?"

"I DI-"

As a last attempt for survival, yelled, "LEO LIKES DIii-" Cutting me off as my mouth was the last to fade away.

"Leo likes WHAT?" A gruff and deep voice said, before my environment changed a lot.

This was the last thing I heard, before I myself going in a vertical circle. Weirdly, it didn't make me dizzy, in fact it calmed me down. I then saw all white, before flashes of color spread all around me,

fjkl;tredhiajwbwuahjal-

GAME LOADING...

...

...

to be continued...

[pacifymebby]

if you’re feeling sinister / chapter two

We lingered on the edge of the football field until well after 6th period had finished and there was no need to hide out behind the goal posts to smoke our weed because everyone else had already left and gone home for the evening.

"Come on its gettin cold... whos comin round mine? Got the new resident evil... It'll be a scream," grinned Van pulling a face, ever the clown as he tried to chastise Mia into joining us for once.

"Give over you know I hate those games," she said with a small smile, shying away from Van and Larry as they crowded her, one on either side, jostling her with their elbows like they were playing piggy in the middle and she was the ball.

"Leave her alone dickheads," giggled Suki tripping Larry up so that he went tripping and stumbling into a bin.

There was a chorus of cheers from the others then, even Bob who had been quiet all afternoon was laughing and grinning along.

"I don't wanna watch yous playing your shitty video games and screamin like little babies and thats final..." Mia crossed her arms over her chest, stopping at the foot of her driveway. Her and her older brother Benji lived closest to the school in one of the semi's on the main road. It was one of the nicer houses in our shitty coastal town and though we never usually stopped over anywhere other than Van's, what I'd seen of Benji and Mias place was lovely, homely in a way I'd only known for a slither of time whilst I was living with my gran.

"Fine fine, be a loser..." sneered Larry, "chicken shit..."

"Wanker," grinned Mia her smile popping as she made a leud hand gesture at him before sticking him the finger.

"Oi Mia, tell your brother he'd better have shifted that cold by the weekend we've got a gig to prepare for!"

"Whatever Van!" she shouted back not bothering to turn over her shoulder to look at us as she unlocked the front door and disappeared inside.

"Calm down lid you know he's not even sick he's just skyving.." smirked Bob.

"Aye he's sick alright," sniggered Larry, "love sick.." he giggled, Van chorusing him as they started sniggering together, only quieting down when Suki shoved them both from behind.

"Your best pals had his heart broke an you're takin the piss... Pair of tossers," she scowled, "not surprised he's ditchin your stupid practices like..."

"Ooo touched a nerve?" giggled Van, never knowing when to quit. They were both a pair together him and Larry, when it came to taking things too far.

"Shut up," she sneered back snatching at Bondys sleeve to pull him back into step with her so that she'd have at least one of the lads onside.

"Ignore em love, if they wanna behave like children just you let em carry on..." he yawned vaguely shooing them away as he draped his arm around Sukis shoulders and I felt myself shiver feeling suddenly colder.

"I'll come watch you play your shitty video games Van," I sighed knocking into him, hoping he would do as Bondy had done to Suki, but he didn't.  

"You live with me lass, you don't have a choice..."

"I do too!" I cried getting idignant when he contradicted me and asked where I was going to go if I didnt end up back at his. "I could go to Suki's for one, or Larry's or Mia's or Bobs or Johnnys!"

"Ah well Titch you see thats the problem see cause I for one am desperately excited to watch Van get himself ripped to pieces by zombies y'see..." cut in Johnny with a lazy smile.

"Yeah," hummed Suki, "me too..." she turned over her shoulder to smile at me as her fingers danced over the crusifix she wore around her neck.

Instinctively I did the same, my fingers counting the beads on my rosary, the cross hanging weighted somewhere beneath my school shirt out of sight.

I wondered what my new therapist would have thought of that. The hippies daughter turned devotee of christ. I wondered what conclusions she would have drawn from that. She'd have had a field day if she'd had me and Suki in the room together... That was how we'd met. Why she'd ended up straying from her grandparents country house into the throngs of our misfit group of friends.

"Me three," added Larry so that Bob was my only remaining option, and the poor lad could only shrug and apologise and tell us he had to duck out too because he had a drum lesson and several exams coming up soon.

So I was forced to relent, let out a dramatic sigh and fall back into step beside my best friend. Van knocked my elbow with his as we walked in time, his cheeky grin relentless.

"Don't lie theres no way you'd rather spend your night with anyone else," he said scowling when I shrugged him off.

"Sure."

But it was true, really, and we both knew that.

I'd known Van since I was a youngen, our parents had been friends because his parents had been pretty bohemian back in their prime too. The only difference was, where my mother had joined a convent in the valley woodlands a couple miles from town, Van's parents had brought a camper and explored Australia and Europe.

When my parents had died his mam had offered to take me in but my gran had been there, maternal and possesive and so I hadn't fallen into Mary's care until last year. When my gran had died there'd been no other option, Van's family already felt like my family. Their b&b was the only place I wanted to go.

The rest of our group had formed around Van and the band. Benji, Bob, Larry and Johnny had been playing shitty indie rock in Benjis garage since they were 12 years old. Johnny being older had been a useful friend to make because he was the first to get a fake ID, the only reliable source of cigs and drinks, and also the only way Van managed to convince the music department at school to trust him in their cramped little recording studio. Larry and Van had known eachother since they were toddlers. Benji and Bob had grown up one street away from eachother. Benji, Van and Bondy had all played on the same footie team.

Their lives had always been overlapping, they'd always been friends.

Mia was Benjis little sister and, having been forced to babysit her one too many Thursday evenings when he was supposed to be rehearsing with the lads, had started dragging her with him. A happy accidental friendship forming between us, a solidarity because we both knew what it was like to have to put up with the older lads teasing and taking the piss out of us.

And then Suki. Suki had been born on the convent too but after a few years her mum had decided that the bohemian lifestyle wasn't for her and had retreated, baby Suki in tow, to her parents big house on the hill. A sprawling country estate tucked away on the edge of the forest. It was gorgeous but we were never invited for tea. In fact Suki liked to keep herself as far away from that house as she could most of the time. She never really detailed her reasons, but we never really asked.

Suki was friends with us because she was friends with me, and we were friends because we both went to confession every Wednesday after mass.

"Am callin first dibs!" shouted Larry running up the drive to Vans house and opening the unlocked door before anyone could stop him or protest. Of course that didn't stop Van from legging it after him.

I just watched with a smirk, turned to Bondy and Suki and felt that cold shiver again when I saw that she remained tucked under his arm as if she was always supposed to belong there.

"Children," tutted Johnny as he kicked his shoes off in the hall wandering into the kitchen to say hello to Vans mum and get a brew on.

I kicked my converse off by the door and hovered for a second at the foot of the stairs waiting to see where Suki would go. Whether she'd follow Johnny or turn to me.

She brushed her long brown hair from her face and adjusted her alice band, her thick brows furrowed like she was thinking.

"You don't really wanna watch them play shit video games all night do you titch?" she asked chewing her cheek, her brown eyes soft with concern though I wasn't quite sure who for.

"Not really," I admitted knowing there was no way she wanted to sit around watching Van and Larry squabble over the controller for an hour either, "not if they're gonna hog it anyway..." I said with a cheeky smile, calling out a little louder so that Van would hear us.

"You two are so ungrateful! You've got the opportunity to watch the master at work here!" he shouted back from the living room where I could hear the playstation coming to life.

I sighed.

"Zombies still a no go?" I asked knowing she would nod and wince and then laugh at herself for being so childish. It was funny that out of all of us she was the one who was "easily scared" given Johnny and I's track record on horror.

But I'd been desensitised over the years and I found a little humour and comfort in a dodgy slasher film or a video game full of daft jump scares. And if anyone ever asked Johnny why he liked horror movies he just shrugged his shoulders, made some throwaway joke about studying up.

Once he'd informed someone that having a murdered mum ment the odds were stacked in his favour, can't get yourself butchered if the stats say you're more likely to be the one doing the butchering.

The kid in question had been speechless but Johnny had just smirked, played it off cool as you like. That was like his hidden talent, this ability only he seemed to have mastered. Nothing ever seemed to stick with him, nothing ever seemed to shake him, he was always so cool and collected, still water you couldn't ripple.

"Wanna bully them into watching the exorcist or somet instead?" I asked Suki, wandering into the kitchen to grab a diet coke from the fridge.

At that she grinned, her nod enthusiastic. A girl of few words but pleased nonetheless.

"You never get bored of that one?" asked Johnny as he stirred sugars into tea.

"Nope," Suki popped the p, her eyes glistening, "I'll never get sick of Jason Miller," she sighed dramatically, completely oblivious to the sudden sulk which lingered on Johnnys lips when he rolled his eyes and ruffled her hair.

"Bit old for you ain't he lass," he said before calling out to the lads that their teas were ready, winking at us when Larry and Van came running in, giving us the opportunity to sneak in and switch over to our film before they could protest.

And thats how we spent our night, the five of us squished together on the sofa, watching a film we'd all seen too many times before. Larry then Van with my in his lap, my legs overlapping Suki's where she sat in Johnnys lap, her head resting against his chest where I wished my head could be instead.

That was how we spent most evenings  after school when we weren't all gathered in Benji's garage instead. Watching shit horror movies or playing whichever video game we'd collectively chosen to obsess over that week. Sometimes me and Suki would ditch in favour of finishing our school work, more often than not Mia was only ever half present, her nose in a book.

When the weather was good we'd hang around the football pitch or down by the beach, setting fires pissing around with matches under the pier, or making goal posts with jumpers and playing football, or something which loosely resembled football until the sun had set too far for us to see the ball.

"Reet," yawned Johnny as the clock hit  half nine and the credits of Psycho started to roll, "am aff," he said in a terrible scottish accent.

"Walk me back?" asked Suki rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she slipped down from the back of the sofa where she'd been lying with her head next to Johnnys.

They'd been mumbling and joking quietly with one another all night and when she'd positioned herself like that I'd known it was only to get closer to him, to be able to talk softly in his ear and let her hand play with his hair subtly. Not subtle enough.

"Aye lass course," he said their eyes locking for a moment, my chest aching because I knew the conversation they were having silently and so did everyone else.

And the moment he'd closed the door on them Larry voiced the thing we were all thinking.

"She's staying at his ain't she..."

"Fuckin probably aye mate..." grinned Van laughing for a moment until he recognised the turmoil in my eyes, noticed I wasn't laughing like they were. Then he turned to Larry with a frown, lowered his voice, "have a bit of tact though eh mate?"

I smirked sadly shaking my head at him.

"Give over Van its not like that..." I said defending myself weakly. Still, it was true, I was telling them the truth. I wasn't jealous. I didn't want to be Suki. I just didn't want to lose Johnny. I didn't want anything to change between us because it had always been me and him who knew eachother in a way no one else could ever know us. And if him and Suki got any closer than they already were then I would lose him, and we'd never stay up late talking and not talking about the things no one else could understand, ever again.

"Yeah really? What is it like then Titch cause you've look rate mardy all night an we were watchin your favourite film!"

"Its nowt Van drop it already..." I said, my fingers rubbing over the beads of my rosary reminding me not to lie to my best friend.

"You're lying am not daft titch..."

"Am not!"

"Reet well I was gonna crash here like but am not listenin to yous bickerin like grandmas all night so am afffff..." said Larry with a grin immitating Johnny's earlier attempt.

"Ah Larry man nah you can't go yet we were gonna play Resident Evil!"

"I'll be round tomorra, if am not back by ten me mam will go spare," he said holding his hand up to wave, leaving the house in a stoned and sleep deprived haze. Similar to the one Vam turned to me in as the front door closed again, his dopey smile endearing as he came a little closer.

"Y'know you're prettier than..."

"Van!" I hissed cutting him off before he could say something offensive and completely uncalled for, "shut it would ye I already said it ain't that!"

"Am jus sayin lass, if the lad can't see that he's..."

"Van!" I snapped hitting him with the oversized sleeve of my sweater chasing him back into the living room where I shoved him over onto the sofa victorious.

"Alright alright I was just tryna be nice lass no need to go all skitz on me!" he grinned sniggering quietly, the two of us suddenly concious of the time and not wanting to wake his mam and dad.

I sighed flopping down on the sofa beside him, my eyes glancing to the clock. It was just past ten and the night was still young for a girl who didn't do much sleeping.

Luckily for me Van had always been a bit of an insomniac too and so when I turned to him and nodded to the tv he knew exactly what I wanted to do.

"Go get a brew on, reckon we can complete it by mornin like, Larry'll be pissed he went home.." he flashed me a smile switching the channel on the telly so that the playstation started up and his new game started to load.

And I was more than happy to spend the night fighting zombies with Van instead of suffering an attempt at sleep. Because when I was left alone with myself my thoughts had a tendency to drift towards the macabre and spiral and tonight I knew they'd spiral because since I'd left my therapists office earlier that afternoon I'd only been able to focus on one thing.

🍎🔪

"I believe you..." she said again when I scrunched my face into a frown and eyed her suspiciously.

"Right okay... Sure you do..." I said, "if this is a new way of trying to gain my trust it's pretty messed up Elena..." I said eying her name tag feeling a twist of bitterness in my stomach. It was the defense mechanism which flexed every time someone dangled hope in front of me.

"I'm not messing with you or lying to you to gain your trust Pepper, I do believe you and I'll tell you exactly why... If you want to hear me out that is... You don't have to hear me out..."

"No go on, what else will we talk about for the next 40 minutes..."

"Alright well, in your folder your medical history states that you have a diagnosis of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder along with Dissociative Personality Disorder. Your doctors, and the police, believe that as a young girl you were so overwhelmed by the events of your mothers death that rather than accept reality you fabricated a new one in which your father acted to save your life, not to end your mothers..." she paused for a moment and I leant back in my seat studying her carefully. I wasn't sure how I felt about her now, how i felt about the way she was talking about the events as something seperate not only from her but from me.

"Now dissociative disorders are not uncommon after a serious traumatic event and they are often linked to PTSD however," she carried on and now her pencil tip found her lips and for a moment she sucked on it like an addict trying to quit smoking, "however in these cases dissociation tends to recur throughout a suffers life, they tend to, well for want of better phrasing, lose themselves to their false reality choosing to live in it permanently... From what I can tell of you however youve never talked of any similar experiences... Your story has always remained the same and well, all the nightmares, all your flashbacks, as you have described them to previous therapists at least, relate that same story... It never changes and..."

"Generally when a persons story never changes its true..." I said finishing for her, my smirk short and quick as I eyed her with dead eyes, trying my best to hide my confusion. Trying not to show her how badly I wanted to believe in her. How badly I wanted to believe that for once someone believed me.

"It does."

[theodorevg923]

❤ Valentine's Day Leftovers ❤

Part 3 (Part 2) (Master List)

Monty 🐊 x Y/N (they/them)

Sorry I haven't posted in a couple days. And I'm selfishly adding a song in from a musical I've desperate been imagining a crossover with Monty. It played while I was writing at the most opportune moment so in it went. Music is owned by its original creator. (Click first lyric for song link)

Edit: fixed the lyrics so they're easier to skip of it ain't ur thing

⚠️ WARNINGS ⚠️ 18+ ONLY Same as the last 2, implied rape, implied torture, suicidal thoughts, derogatory terms used genderless, violence, language, Monty isn't a human

________

On the way to Freddy's green room, Monty got the scent of something familiar. It took a moment to register, but then it him. He had memorized it after he found out why it bothered him so much, it was another person's scent. Keeping his composure, he needed to walk (Y/N) all the way to Freddy first. He hated that bear, more than anything else. But he knew that the bear would protect the tech. Roxy and Chica would be there as well, keeping them distracted.

Once to Rockstar Row, Monty bent down to whisper to the tech. The hunt was on. "Be right back firefly."

"Alright." (Y/N) nodded at the gator. Not noticing how tense he was. They entered Freddy's room with Chica. Monty waiting for the door to close before leaving.

Monty took a deep breath, as best as his mechanical body would allow. He caught the scent again. He figured out what happened to them, after hours of researching. He almost shut down from overheating. How could humans do that to each other? It was despicable, outright heinous. He found out the human legal system to punish the ones who caused the pain almost as revolting as the act itself. So, he was going to fix this himself.

He cracked his jaw, letting the scent drift onto his sensors. Drool started dripping out when it hit him again. He followed it through the twists an turns of the pizzapelx. It was closed today so the hallways were empty, only a few necessary employees lingered. Slipping through them, he barely made a sound. He needed to be patient, slowly catching up before letting up. Waiting for the right opportunity. He needed them somewhere dark, where the camera's wouldn't see.

Monty watched as his prey started becoming frantic, looking around for something it couldn't find. It's steps became frantic, slipping in the dark stairwell it was in. He chose that moment to lunge. Grabbing the disgusting thing by the mouth and around it's waist, holding it's arms down. He bit into the neck, barely breaking skin. Oh no, he didn't want it dead yet. He wanted to have fun. Force the same pain the prey inflicted on his tech.

He dragged his prey deep into the bowels of the Pizzaplex. He didn't question why there was an old, crumbling basement underneath Parts and Service. There was no electricity down here, no cameras to prove his sin. A sin he was willing to commit for them. For the technician he had fallen in love with.

He threw his prey to ground, it scrambled away from him, a long string of curses coming from it's mouth. He didn't care, he wasn't human, the species morals didn't have to apply to him. The prey scrambled from him, crawling and stumbling in the dark. But he could see fine.

Finally finding some cable, Monty tied the prey to a concrete post. He bent down to it's level, shoving a rag he found on the ground in it's mouth. The prey squirmed and trembled in fear, it's voice muffled.

"I'll be back for ya, stay put." Monty stood up and left the decrepit basement, but not before leaving a flashlight he turned on after pulling it out of his chest cavity. He didn't want his prey going completely insane just yet.

Monty took a different route back, using the back passageway to Freddy's room. He need to check on them. A couple hours had passed since he left (Y/N) with the others. He reached the room quickly, finding it empty.

Monty huffed, letting steam roll out of his nostrils. His spines rattled in frustration. Where did they go? He wanted to find them quick. After a quick check in with Roxy, he headed to Fazer Blast.

Sneaking inside, Monty could hear the shooting of the fazblasters. (Y/N)'s laughter echoed throughout the arena. Pulling a blue vest on, arming himself with a fazblaster, he went in for battle.

He quickly found his tech, thankfully on their side. Looming over them, he growled. (Y/N) turned around quickly, startled. He brushed a clawed hand against their cheek, laughing quietly.

"Sorry ta startle ya, sweet peach." He chuckles, carefully pulling them in close. He didn't want to scare them off. "Who are we fightin?" He glances around, hiding behind a barricade. (Y/N) blushes, slightly relaxing in Monty's grasp.

"Freddy and Chica are orange, me and Chica are blue team. And we've already lost one battle." (Y/N) glances past Monty and the barricade, looking for orange vests. Spotting one, they shoot it and miss. "Shit, we gotta go."

They grab Monty's hand, dragging him further into the arena, closer to the enemy's flag. Spotting another orange vest, they shoot, another miss. Monty aims quickly and hits the target.

"Freddy! Monty's cheating!" Roxy yells, giving away her position behind a wall. Monty wants to hunt down Roxy for giving him away, but (Y/N)'s hold on his hand stops him. He didn't want to leave their side.

Monty picks up the tech, rushing closer to the flag and ducking behind a wall. Both peek out, looking for Freddy. Neither of them spot him. In hushed whispers, a plan is formed. (Y/N) volunteers to be the bait, Monty would rush for the flag. He didn't like that, his tech being bait, but they insisted. Rushing forward, fazblaster at the ready, Freddy takes the bait and follows. Monty stormed up to flag, grabbing it before charging for his team's side.

Almost there, he was hit. He turned around, looking for the shooter. Roxy was darting away. "Payback bitch! I'm the best!"

He growled and finished charging for his side. He finally made it when a scream echoed through the arena. It was (Y/N), they were in trouble.

Monty dropped the flag, rushing to find them. Once there, he found (Y/N) on the ground, laughing. "Sorry Monty, it was Roxy's idea."

He growls, slightly irritated. He picks (Y/N) off the ground, standing them up. "Come on, l lost the flag looking for you."  Before both could get far, a siren sounded. Orange team had won.

After putting the equipment back, Monty and (Y/N) went back to his room. The others gave them a worried look. But the tech explained some of the situation to the others while Monty was away. So the band members let it happen.

Monty laid himself on his torn couch, pulling (Y/N) into his lap. They shivered slightly, nervous. He gently brushed the bandages covering the tech's body. It was time for a talk.

"I know what happened." He whispers softly, worried the precious blossom would shatter under the weight of his words. He knew they weren't fragile, they were strong as the shell on a peach pit. But he didn't want to scare them away.

(Y/N) started lifting themselves off Monty, but he grasped their thigh, holding on tight. He sighs, at a lost for words, he didn't want to be condescending. Rubbing their thigh, he starts up again.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there, I should've found you sooner." He growls at the words he said. Before he could start again, a hand brushes his snout.

"Then you know I'm tarnished. The doctors told me the marks on my neck and joints will scar. So now I've been branded a whore, a disgusting slut. No one will want me now." Monty growls, sitting up, squeezing (Y/N)'s thigh and grabbing their arm, nearly breaking skin. His spines rattled fast, making an almost hissing noise. Steam blew out his mouth and nostrils. His mechanisms desperately trying to cool off the anger seething in his wires.

"I don't care, I want you. What that thing did to you was vile and heinous, but you are not to blame. Don't ever let me hear you say that again. If you do, I'll mark you myself. Show the world that you belong to me." He huffed out.

Tears spilled out of the tech's eyes. They shivered, sobs racking their body. They looked desperately at Monty, waiting for it to be a joke. It never came.

Monty pulled (Y/N) into him, holding them tight, wrapping his tail around the tech. He rubbed their back, soothing the shivers. As the sobs eased up, he whispered into their ear.

"I promise you, I will always be there, through the pain and darkness. Through the nightmares to come...

In the light that falls at moonrise

In the rhythm of the rain

In the miracle of ordinary days

In the hush of night, I will be in the whisper of lovers

Everywhere, you will find me there

In the rustle of a curtain

In the bustle of the world

In a thousand little, unexpected ways

When you lift your gaze

I will be like the shimmer of one small star Out there, shining everywhere

I will be there beside you through the lonely nights that fall

So close your eyes, remember my embrace

I will be there like mercy; I will find you through it all

This do I swear, I will be there"

Monty sings to his tech. Soft whispers growing stronger as their tears start drying up. They smile softly, pleasantly surprised, sinking in his embrace, singing softly back.

"In a language never spoken

Lived the promises we made

In the endless love that owns me, heart and soul

In the certainty, I will always be true

And as near as my next prayer, you will find me there

In the echo of the ocean

In the haunting of the wind

In mysterious extraordinary ways

Through the darkest sky, I will be like the shimmer of one small star

Out there, shining everywhere

I will be there beside you through the lonely nights that fall

So close your eyes, remember my embrace

I will be there like freedom; I will find you through it all

This do I swear, I will be there"

The tech sits up, feeling their confidence grow, placing a hand on Monty's jaw. The pair finish the song, voices growing stronger together.

"In the harbor quarter

In the stone and mortar

In the star that we both share

In the sound of laughter

Now and ever after

Look for me, I will be there

I will be there beside you through the lonely nights that fall

So close your eyes

Remember my embrace (Remember my embrace)

I will be there (So be there)

Like justice I will find you through it all

This do I swear (This do I swear)

I will be there

This do I swear, I will be there

This do I swear, I will be there"

(Y/N) gasps for breath as the song ends. They start laughing, falling into Monty's chest. They couldn't believe a crazy swamp gator for a kids amusement park knew a musical. Much less one they loved so much.

After a few moments of laughing and relishing in the memory, (Y/N) sits back up and looks the gator in the eyes.

"Do you really mean it? About, you know." They blush deeply at the words, thoughts slowly darkening again. They couldn't erase the bad decision to go on a date with that person. Couldn't change the fact that they had tried to kill themselves.

"Mean what, ma cherie amour?" Monty sits up, holding onto the tech's thighs to hold them steady. He knew what they ment, but he had to hear the words for himself. Needed clarification for both of them.

"That you would really take me, as scarred and broken as I am?" They sigh, looking down and away from him. He had to be joking, right? Monty gently grasped (Y/N)'s face, pulling them to look at him.

"I'm not forcing you to choose me. It's your decision alone to make. But I will stay by your side no matter what you choose. As lovers or friends. All I ask is that you tell me, when you make you choice." His voice rumbled deep within (Y/N), sending shivers deep in their mind.

It was their choice. Then Monty really did know what happened to them, what they had been forced through without their consent. They nod slowly, not ready to speak just yet. Monty grins at them, showing off his white teeth and bright red tongue. His spines rattling softly.

"Now, what do you want to do firefly?" Monty chuckled, watching the blush spread on his tech's face. (Y/N) shook their head and settled back into his lap, exhausted from the day. Monty leaned back into the couch, snatching a slightly shredded blanket on the floor. He covered them up with blanket, after wrapping his tail around, humming softly as (Y/N) drifted off to sleep.

After a time when (Y/N) had drifted off into a deep sleep, Monty carefully slipped out from underneath. After a quick recharge, he left a note scratched into a ripped poster. He didn't want them worried about him, but he had work to do. Monty kissed (Y/N) on the head, whispering sweet nothings. He left the room to find his trapped prey.

________

Posted Feb 18 2022