#is this the right link for dead mans deal? i am not sure. but fuck it

[rottmntpeepawpolls]

ALRIGHT EVERYBODY!!

The bracket's all been put together!

Please note that there were a few more submissions that I had to take out of the running for the sake of space, but I hope that everyone's still excited!!

Full list of names (the text is tiny ik I'm sorry) and links to the content themselves below the cut

For the record, I put all of the names in the order I had them saved then just shuffled them, I didn't make these match-ups.

I also haven't seen 100% of these, nor do I remember all of them, so if I don't remember the nicknaming system used in that specific fic, I apologise.

Left Side

ITBOTB Blue vs. Fracturing Time Mikey

Hansel AU Leo vs. Kosmara Mikey

wify,ifm Leo vs. TAE Leo

AMW Leo vs. RtEoTW April

NQK Leonardo vs. Red Rover f!Leo

TFLB Donnie vs. JTOEL Donnie

Full Lair Leo vs. Dead Man's Deal Leo

IBEH Leo vs. GitS Ghost

Right Side

Separate Times Donnie vs. MNMC Leo

Cass' Uncle Donnie vs. 2 arms left Leo

Time Napped Raph vs. LCD Leo

His World Nidas vs. Kosmara Leo

WMAS Leo vs. Two Souls Aoi

LMAD Leo vs. Mystic Hands Mikey

NQK Michelangelo vs. OMO Leo

Replica Leo vs. Last Hourglass Leon

[nutria--oscura]

me? listening to an ep when it comes out rather than hours later? a rare occasion for sure (shit's gonna go down isn't it?)

~spoilers for s2 ep47~

"crunchy munchy refuge"? HENRY'S BACK? PLEASE

"they must deal with the loss of a team member" WELL- YEA. THEY BETTER TALK ABOUT IT

hi um... what song is this? why? oh- no reason... not sobbing at all [screams]

we did it boys... Hermie finally got his show stopping number, his final performance, the entire cold open to himself.

"this same podcast dungeons and dragons" PART ?? OF WILL SAYING IT DND INSTEAD OF DNDADS (it makes me giggle so much every time)

every time Matt opens Link's fact by reminding everyone that the teens are spouses, it returns to me the life Anthony takes away whenever he hurts Hermie

OOOOOO PROPS? Love Will bringing in the props- THE LOVERS? REVERSED LOVERS- OH SHITTTTT

loving the energy in the room

oh? Lark and Sparrow are with them?

OH YEAH- NORMAL WASN'T CONSCIOUS OH SHIT-

HIDE HERMIE??? YEA LISTEN TO SCARY, DON'T TOUCH HIM-

idiots- the lot of the- WAIT WHAT- ANTHONY

OH NO NO NO NO NO NO NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Lark just trying to leave-

Normal doesn't see Hermie? wow, ok, i'm already crying- ok

LARK AND SPARROW FUCK OFF- LET HIS SAY BYE-

FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK F U C K K K K

"this heaven has one less spouse, but heaven has one more angel" I love Hermie but, that boy is not going to heaven

Anthony sounded so inspired when he said "garages" I aspire to be that inspired in my life lol

Hi Will, let Normal go feral please :) Merci <3

NORMAL CASTS COMMAND

ELDRITCH BLAST ON THE DOOR

YES FREDDIE FUCK YEA

"I want to pull the pin on one of them and then throw the whole box at them" to that I raise you, wasn't it Darryl who threw the ENTIRE bag of beans in s1? Wilsons and throwing full containers of dangerous stuff, I tell ya-

"the shrapnel does a cool, like right over my eyebrow? y'know, cool scar, y'know?" SCAR SCAR SCAR SCAR ON LINKKK

Pennies? NAT 1 NOOOOO

"they haven't made pennies in years Normal" oKAY

GENTLE REPOSEEE

FUCK

NORMAL AND THE NAT FUCKING 1S JEEZ-

I just saw 2 ppl's names who are coming up and i am now so terrified-

ANTHONY NO PLEA- THAT'S THE SEGUAY? HOLY SHIT

how did I fucking know that that would be the knock- whAT?

Henry has a portal to old earth?

jumping = falling upward

Oakvale? man with bracele- iS THAT BARRY?

why does he have old Erin O'Neil's voice

HENRYYYYYYY HENRY HENRY HENRY HENRYYYY!

ok. who said Henry would be like "i'm still alive cause of my healthy vegan lifestyle" to the other dads? i'm giving you a pat on the head and a cookie

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

SEX FURNITURE? yea, ok.

MERCEDES IS DEAD? NOOOOOO (the second Will said "jar of Mercedes Oak-Garcia's ashes" I dropped my phone-) WHY IS TIME PROGRESSING IN THIS PODCAST ABOUT GENERATIONAL TRAUMA AND HOW IT CAN EFFECT PEOPLE OVER TIME AGHHHHH-

"can you go wait outside" oH NOOOOOO

HERMIE ARCANA CHECK- FUCKING 3- WILL CHANGE YOUR DICE PLEASE GOD NO

FUCK NO NO NO N O O O

"if none of you guys can help him and none of you guys understand how this works then we gotta go to the one guy who can!" THE WAY I JUMPED OUT OF MY FUCKING SEAT WHEN WILL SIAD THT- SCAM ACTUALLY IS BACK TOOO BOIS

YOU TELL THEM NORM. YOU FUCKING TELL THEM

Scary's voice- oh gosh-

THE SIMPSONS?

"I'm here when it's sad, I'm here when it's fun. Did somebody do something to my son?" NEW SCAM OPENING RHYME AHHHHHH

SCAM ACTUALLY ACTUALLY CARES

"he's just a goof, goofs never die" WHAT IF I DIE?

NO SOUL?

hey, Anthony. fuck you <3 /j well... /hj

YES NORMAL PUNCH HIM (can you guys tell i love scam?)

"bad girl, i'm a bad girl i do what needs to be done. sometimes people fuck with my friends and i fuck with them back"

"you feel like home for some reason" WHAT IF I CRY?

TELL HIM SCARY- OH NOOOOO

one thing i have learned is when Will's character(s) start crying, i cry. and well... Normal's crying, and gUESS WHAT?

OH GODDDD THE TWO-FACE TREE FOR OUR TWO-FACE BOY-

NORMAL AND HENRY <333

THE SEX CANDLES-

HENRY'S FAVOURITE SHOW IS BACK!

THE EMOTIONAL WHIPLASH OF THE EP GEEZ

CHAPARRAL ON 3? OH SHI- yeaaaa

THE SUN IS BACKKKK

"Normal goes to the sort of fresh mound of earth, where Hermie is buried, and he kneels and he says, 'I liked you too.' He puts his hand on the dirt and he says, 'goodnight sweet prince.'" OH GOD OH FUCK- I LITERALLY COLLAPSED ON THE GROUND AND WHEN I GOT UP SLIPPED AND SLID DOWN THE WALL FROM CRYING- OH GEEZ- "GOODBYE SWEET PRINCE, SWEET PRINCE" OH GOSH-

WE'RE DOING THE MEMORIES NOW???? GOD-

i'm sorry- they're teaching Hero AND NORMAL

DADDIES HQ

FREDDIE WITH THE SAVE- OH CMON ANTHONY-

what. the. fuck.

NO. DON'T END ON NORMAL BEING YELLED AT. FOR THE SAKE OF MY MENTAL HEALTH DON'T. PLEASE-

love that Normal at 6 years old had the intelligence to lock the door. no one at daddies hq did that. like, the door was unlocked when Normal got there

In conclusion:

HERMIE NOOOOO-

[marvel-ousmondays]

Iron Man 3

Things are about to get interesting.

A friend and I happened to be talking Marvel movies not that long ago and she mentioned how many people didn't like this one but she loved it. I had vaguely remembered the complaints, mostly centered around The Mandarin.

So let's deal with that squarely first.

As mentioned in my first post, I did NOT grow up reading the comics or watching animated TV shows about Marvel characters. Before I happened to go to the Iron Man movie with friends, I wasn't even aware of the character. Many times this puts me at a disadvantage when discussing the MCU, as my observations may lack nuanced understanding or I may miss callbacks altogether. BUT there are rare cases where it is a benefit.

This is one of those cases.

IF you are able to let go of your previous knowledge of The Mandarin, I don't see how you can argue that what happens here is a brilliant twist. The idea that a jaded and scorned man who once championed science could, in this world that constantly rewarded Tony's frankly abominable behavior, become someone who answered money and power's call but knew well enough to hide his face while doing it? That's brilliant. Ben Kingsley's portrayal of both "The Mandarin" and Trevor Slatterly are incredible. The fear those videos create is palpable even when you are watching. All to reveal it's a masquerade, a charade.

That's some pretty epic deception and clever for someone who wants real power.

Guy Pearce also plays a character like Killian very well. At one moment, smooth and handsome, that slow and deliberate way of speaking, taking complete control of a room. There's a sense of a danger around him even then- something that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, something that just doesn't sit quite right- but you shake it off because, well, there's nothing sinister happening. Then later we see it, but even then he is almost always deliberate. The way he holds Pepper by her neck and just repeats "Pepper, Pepper" while shaking his head at such an unruly subject. His cold demeanor as he heats up Rhodey's suit. Even his fighting with Tony. The question I would have is whether that is all part of the regulating or just arrogance. If it's not the former, he was a fool.

Really random note from this one was the realization of how much gum chewing is linked with condescension in films. Killian's "lieutenant" for lack of a better term is constantly chewing gum and it makes it him look so much more of an ass. (In a good way- it's his character.) There's something about gum chewing on screen that says "You are not worth my proper diction."

My favorite thing about this movie will always be that it was the moment when I knew MCU wasn't going to "fridge" its women. We have a brief moment of fear that Pepper is dead, smartly done close enough to the end to be a real possibility. Then she not only reappears, but saves Tony's ass. She even makes a joke about "What, because I fell 200 feet?"

I want to take a second here because I'm sure someone, somewhere, is thinking "yeah they were too SCARED to kill a main character." To that I say, fuck off. There is PLENTY of death in this movie. The female scientist's (played wonderfully by Rebecca Hall) death is particularly harsh as she had tried to use her own suicide as a bargaining chip. The empty Iron Patriot suit kills many secret service people. Happy isn't killed but spends the bulk of the movie in hospital.

And regardless, in superhero films and comics and tv of the past, it was nearly always the girlfriend/wife who had to die. Not only is death NOT the only way to force growth upon our superhero, but also we certainly should be able to spread the death around. I, for one, was glad to see things were going to be different here.

Also, the Kid was great. I am curious if they may ever bring this character back in some way. There's definitely a possibility there.

Complaints? There was a bit too much forced humor here. This is definitely where we start to see lines played for comic relief that don't fit the tension of the scene. RDJ has a few, though I always give Iron Man a bit of a pass here as that is a very Tony trait. But Don Cheadle had a few as well, and while he delivers them well, they just don't jive with Colonel in crisis mode.

(Exceptions- the dude who ends up putting his gun down saying he hates working there, they're so fucking weird gets an A+ as does Pepper's line about how violent she just was.)

Also, it may be the current economic and environmental landscape, but the waste of blowing up all those iron man suits really bugged me. At least used the scrap for something my dude.

This one also might have been just a bit too long, but I struggle to pick any particular scene to cut.

Note for me:

Directed by: Shane Black

[hockeyboysimagines]

Bitter

Chapter 5

Warnings: Sex, implied sex, sexual references, teeny bit of angst, mentions of bars, alcohol, vomiting and Kaitlin being a sneaky bitch.

I am sure there are spelling and grammatical errors in here. No one is perfect and I’ve been staring at this for hours now. I’ll come back in and make corrections tomorrow, just a PSA before some rude person makes a comment.

Hi all! Here is a chapter for you. I’ve had the worst writers block ever the past few weeks but I honestly watched a bunch of hockey fights and I feel much better. I’d also like to let everyone know Zack MacEwen has officially been added to my Who I write for, which you can find on my Masterlist, which I’ll link here, because he is so hot and dirty and I’m in love with him.

I hope you all enjoy this chapter! Let me know what you think🤍

“What’s your deal?” Mat asked bumping Beau’s shoulder.

“Huh?”

“I mean what’s up with you. You seem weird.”

“Oh nothing. Just tired from the trip this weekend.” Mat frowned and he quick added in “Dealing with Ginny for any amount of time is exhausting. Let alone hours.” Historically, Beau had never been a good liar, and this was a big lie he needed to sell. He’d been thinking about it a lot over the last few days.

If Ginny hadn’t been so dead set against Mat and Leighton finding out, he really wouldn’t have cared. He knew deep down it had less to do with the fact that she hated him, and more to do with the idea of admitting she might like him even a little bit.

“Right. We appreciate it a lot though you know, me more than anyone considering this is my fault.” Mat seemed less stressed this morning. He’d expressed to Beau more than once that he felt an immense amount of crushing guilt over the whole thing.

“Barz , you gotta stop blaming yourself man. What’s happening now, is happening cuz Kaitlin is fucking crazy. You could never have known she was going to react this way.”

“I know, but still. I should have just admitted to myself that I wasn’t over her in the beginning and maybe we wouldn’t be dealing with this bullshit.”

“Maybe not, but maybe she’d have reacted the same way. No one can say. Either way.” He gave him a slap on the shoulder “We got your back. I can’t punch a girl, but Ginny can and she will and I should have let her do it.”

Mat laughed and ran a hand through his hair “Well like I said before, thank you. And maybe you should have, but I don’t think it would have helped anything. But you guys came in clutch with taking the trip for us. We owe you guys, and appreciate it a lot.”

“You better. The director made us walk arm in arm down the aisle.” Beau smiled a little at the memory, and chuckled.

“Bet Ginny loved that one.”

“She did but she’d never admit it.”

Mat laughed and shook his head as they sat down for tape review.

“Seriously though. That was exactly what Leighton needed. She seems better already.”

“Yeah. As much as Ginny and I disagree we both love Leighton so we were happy to do it.”

He paid very little attention during game tape review, thoughts of Leighton and Ginny, and Kaitlin swirling around in his head. There was a lot of feelings invested in this wedding and outside of this wedding. It had been a powder keg from the start, but his involvement with Ginny had rattled everything.

He really did feel bad. He’d promised Mat, Leighton, and God that he wasn’t going to do this and he did.

And he wanted to do it again.

*************

Ginny avoided Beau at all costs the next few days, and buried herself in her work. She didn’t really need an excuse to want to be away from him, but now more than ever she wanted to be. She was still mildly repulsed with herself that she’d had sex with him in the first place, and she did everything in her power to oust the whole evening out of her head.

It did not work.

It was especially hard when he was texting her.

B:Are you okay?

G: I haven’t seen you in days so why wouldn’t I be?

B: Haha, so you wanna do it again? And don’t bother with your ice queen act anymore. I see right through that.

She deleted his messages just as Leighton poked her head around the door and smiled at her.

“Hey best friend!”

Ginny looked up startled and smiled back “Hi! How was the rest of the weekend?” She out on her best fake smile and leaned forward. Leighton looked much better, happier, like the Leighton she knew and loved.

And it broke Ginny’s heart because she had no idea what was happening behind her back.

“It was great. I feel better.” She sat down in her chair and crossed her legs before fixing Ginny with a look.

“So everything was good with the venue? I got the email saying it has been approved.”

“Yes. The venue is beautiful. They ran us through how the day would go, how the reception is set up, and they have all the decor on lockdown so the wicked with of the west doesn’t try any sabotage.”

Leighton nodded and pursed her lips “You don’t think she’d come do you? I mean that would be crazy.”

“Well she is obviously and even if she does, she won’t make it inside. Beau and I talked about it and we’re gonna be keeping an eye out.”

“You guys talked? That’s impressive.”

Ginny coughed and chose her words carefully “Uh yeah….a little. We’re both worried about it, and as much as we hate each other we hate her more. So I guess we can forge some kind of bond over that. But I still don’t like him.” she added for good measure. She felt like she was giving herself away by saying anything nice about him “He was a real pain is the ass on the trip, but for you, I’d do anything.” She felt a sinking feeling that could only be described as guilt settle in her heart. She hated lying to Leighton, something she swore she would never do. And here she was doing it. She would never ever forgive herself for this, and she would carry it around forever and all because she broke the promise she made to herself.

“I know, and I’m so thankful for that. We both are. And who knows maybe by the time the wedding is over you guys will become friends?”

Ginny chuckled and shuffled the papers on her desk “Not likely.”

***********

Ethan was a nice guy, who worked three offices down from Ginny. After several months of small talk, he’d finally asked Leighton if Ginny was single.

Which is how he plucked up the courage to ask Ginny out himself. He was sweet, all American boy, the kind you take home to mom and dad. Ginny, who was so desperate to repress any feelings of Beau that lingered said yes, and made plans for Friday.

She was seated at Leighton’s kitchen island when she heard the door open and two sets of footsteps enter. She closed her eyes and let out a long breath. She hadn’t seen him since that weekend and she didn’t wanna see him ever again. She fought internally to fight the redness that was creeping up her neck, and stared pointedly at the wall until she absolutely had to look at him.

He was watching her, face expressionless and they held eye contact for a few moments before he looked away.

“So are you feeling better?” He asked Leighton, eyes peeking at Ginny as she answered.

“Much better. You two are amazing for helping out this weekend. I hope it wasn’t too much of an inconvenience.” Leighton said as she left the room to follow Mat to their bedroom to get the laundry.

“For you? Never. Right Gin?” Ginny nodded and gave Leighton a tight lipped smile.

“And besides. Me and Ginny needed some quality time together. I feel like I really got to know her this weekend.” He glanced at Ginny again and stretched, shirt riding up to reveal several inches of abs and she pointedly looked away.

Damn him.

“Ew.” She mumbled giving him a disgusted look. He smiled a little, enjoying that he was beginning to get a rise out of her.

“It’s okay Gin. Looking is for free, but touching is going to cost you.”

“No amount of money would be enough to touch you.”

Leighton rolled her eyes and turned to grab the laundry basket. Once she was out of earshot he spoke again.

“Never say never.” He stood and walked up behind her, chest brushing against her back “Sometimes all it takes is one night” he whispered, scruff ticking her neck. She glared at him, and then looked up at the ceiling in an attempt to collect herself.

She made an excuse to leave a little while later, practically bolting out the door and down the hall as quickly as she could so he wouldn’t follow her. She fell asleep uneasy, and pushed him out of her mind in preparation for her date the next evening.

***********

Ethan was in fact a very nice guy. He’d picked her up, held the door, and pulled out her chair for her and now he was dutifully listening to her talk about Leighton’s wedding.

“Sounds like quite the saga. You seem like your a good friend to her.”

“I try to be. This wedding has been especially stressful.”

“How so?” He leaned forward, genuinely interested in what she was saying, and it hurt her.

Because she didn’t like him at all.

She would let him down as easy as she could, and be as nice about it as possible but she really didn’t have a single romantic feeling in her body that could make her like him even a little bit. But she smiled and put on a good show as she told him about Kaitlin.

“That’s insane! Leighton is marrying Mat Barzal right? Big Islanders fan.” Ginny laughed a little and nodded.

“Yes she is.”

“We’ll I hope it all works out for her. Your the made of honor right? Do you have to walk with-“

“Yeah.” Ginny cut him off “And I hate him.”

“Oh. Sorry I didn’t-he seems like such a nice guy.“

“It’s okay. He’s just-we don’t get along. But enough about him.”

Ethan changed the subject and started talking about something she didn’t really care about. Midway thought the conversation she felt a pair of eyes on her. She had a lot of eyes on her most of the time, but this time it felt different. She glanced around, and all at once, she glanced up to find Beau had materialized on a barstool less than ten feet away.

“Goddamnit.” She whispered under her breath as he half turned and met her eye, smiling at her. He looked good, even better than the last time she’d seen him, strong arms braced on the bar, one giant hand wrapped around a glass, large smile stretched across his face.

“What did you say?” Etha asked leaning forward.

“Oh hum nothing-nothing.”

“Uh huh. Uhm I’m gonna use the bathroom, I’ll be back.” He gave her an sweet smile and excused himself. She watched him sadly knowing she would break the poor boys heart, and then remembered her arch nemesis was only a few feet away. Ginny stood, walked forward and slapped her hand on the bar to get his attention. He turned, smile getting wider and he raised his glass.

“Gin! Funny seeing you here-“

“What do you want?” She snapped wanting nothing more than to slap that stupid smile and other off his face. She couldn’t believe he was here, and that he was so boldly trying to ruin a date she didn’t even want to be on.

“How’s your date?” He was grinning slyly at her over his glass. Ethan may have been fooled by Ginny’s poker face, but he wasn’t. From where he was sitting there wasn’t even a tiny bit of interest from Ginny’s end, because Ethan wasn’t the kind of guy she would ever show any interest in. He was too nice, like a puppy staring at her when she talked. She was too much for him to handle. But she was just enough for Beau. She was glaring at him, cheeks turning the color of her hair. He let his eyes drift down her appreciatively. She had on a pair of ridiculously tight jeans that hugged every inch of long legs, and a dark grey sweater. Her hair, which was his favorite thing about her, was hanging loose falling across her back and shoulders.

Damn she was hot.

“Fine thank you very much. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“Really? Cuz it doesn’t look like your having much fun. Not as much fun as we had anyways.”

She could feel herself getting redder by the minute and rolled her eyes, blowing a breath angrily out of her nose.

“That was a one time thing-“

“I think it was a multiple in one night time thing.”

She stared at him for a few moments. He’d been the only guy she’d ever come across who could get her so worked up, before he even really did anything to her. Something about him just pissed her off. He was so smug, so full of himself, and so fucking hot. He pulled himself off the barstool and crowded her, pushing her right up against the ledge of the bar, hand resting on her hip. Her breath hitched as he leaned forward to whisper in her ear.

“We both know that your going to leave here with me so let’s cut through the red tape and get out of here now, and get the evening rolling. I’m not playing any games tonight.”

“I’m on a date-“

“Find a way to be not on a date. Tell the boyscout you had a family emergency or something. I don’t care, but let’s go.”

Ginny bit her lip and looked over his shoulder. Ethan was still in the bathroom and as much as she knew it was wrong, the feeling of his chest pushed up against her made her weak in the knees, and wet between the legs. He extended his hand, pulling her along behind him. When they exited the bar he stopped, and turned to face her, hands coming to either side of her waist. Unable to stop himself he leaned forward and kissed her forcefully, pulling all the air from her lungs.

She gasped pulling away from him after a few moments when a pair of headlights coming to a stop in front of them caught her attention.

“How did you get an Uber so fast?”

“I ordered it the minute I saw you across the bar.”

“You asshole.”

“Whatever. Lets go.”

Ginny felt terrible, and conjured up a lie, a good one and sent Ethan a text.

G: sorry had an emergency, we should do this again sometime though. I had a nice night.

Beau had a smug smile on his face, and she wanted to slap him, but she was also practically shaking in anticipation for what the rest of the evening would hold.

**************

“No Ginny tonight?” Mat asked as he came up behind Leighton while she was cooking. Ginny made it a point to come to dinner at the apartment every Friday, mostly just to spend time with them but also to try and keep Leighton’s mind off Kaitlin.

“No she’s actually on a date.”

“A date?” Mat frowned “Without Beau?”

Leighton made a face but smiled “If he knew she was on one he’d find a way to go mess it up I’m sure.”

“True. Are you doing okay? You seem…someplace else.”

“I’m okay. I just-I have the strangest feeling.”

“What do you mean?” He seated himself at the kitchen island and leaned forward. She turned, brows knitting together and placed a hand on her hip.

“I’m not sure really. I just have a feeling that something is going on, but I can’t put my finger on what it could be.”

“Like with the wedding?”

“Yeah I guess….I don’t know it weird. Probably just stress and anxiety from the whole Kaitlin thing.” She turned back to the stove and shrugged.

“Hey.” He stood and turned her to face him, hands coming to rest on either side of her hips “No one is gonna ruin this day for you. I promise. Okay?”

She smiled and nodded “Okay.” But then her face changed. She coughed and covered her mouth with her hand, body shuddering a little.

“Are you gonna throw up?” He took a step back and turned her to face the sink.

“No I’m okay. I just don’t feel well today, and I haven’t eaten.”

“Leighton we talked about this.” He side stepped her to get to the fridge and pulled out a water bottle “You have to take care of yourself. This running yourself ragged with wedding stuff has to stop.”

“I know. I promise I won’t do it again.” She drank some water and resumed what she was doing, still not feeling well.

A while later she found herself kneeling on the floor of the bathroom Mat concerned behind her “Maybe we should go see a doctor?” Mat questioned from behind her, hands entangled in her hair while she leaned over the toilet.

She was a horrible shade of grey, and sweat had seeped through her T-shirt, and ran down her face. He leaned around to look at her but she swatted him away.

“Don’t look at me.”

“Stop. What do they say during weddings? For rich or for poor-?”

“In sickness and in health? Shouldn’t you know that?”

“I never got that far before.”

Even while hovering over a toilet Leighton chuckled a little, and leaned her forehead on her forearm “Your an idiot.”

“But I made you laugh didn’t I?” He rubbed her back soothingly as another bout of vomit gurgled up her throat.

*************

The headboard of Beau’s bed rocked against the wall, surely waking all his neighbors but he didn’t care. Her eyes were closed and he just couldn’t get over how fucking beautiful she looked under him, hair messy, face flushed her body arched against his. She was so sensitive to his touch and he almost felt bad for the poor schmuck she had left at the bar who was missing out on this tonight.

Now that he’d her once, he knew he had to have her again. He had turned down his regular Saturday night hookup with no real guarantee that she would even come home with him, but when he saw her eyeing him from a cross the club he was determined to get her back in his bed.

Mission accomplished.

“Fuck.” She swore, nails scraping along his neck.

He was panting in her ear and starting to sweat as he moved in and out of her going deeper and deeper.

“Harder.” His hand closed around her throat and she closed her eyes.

“I said harder.”

He bit down hard on the skin of her neck and she cried out with a gasp “You fucker-“

“Your so goddamn tight. Fuck.” He cursed face buried in her hair. He pulled one leg up over his shoulder and pushed in even deeper. Her skin was balmy under his hands and the shimmer of sweat that had appeared over her chest and abdomen was catching the light from outside.

“Ohmygod.” She moaned out. His pushes became erratic and the moaning became louder. She let out a strangled cry as he rammed into her brutally a few times before collapsing on top of her, kissing her sloppily tounge leaving a wet trail around her mouth. She let her hands run across his jaw tugging lightly on the stubble there as she eagerly kissed back.

He pulled away from her, forehead resting in her neck as he attempted to even his breathing. He felt her stiffen suddenly beneath him.

“Get off me.” She said, eyes burning up at him. She was frowning and looked disgusted with him.

He chuckled a little and eased himself out and on to the bed next to her “There’s the Ginny I know.”

“First of all, you don’t know me. And second of all-“

“Can you just shut up for like 2 seconds and enjoy the moment?”

Ginny huffed and wiggled away from him, arms crossed to prevent him from touching her. Even though he’d literally just fucked her brains out two minutes ago, she was laying in his bed acting like she didn’t even want him to breathe the same air as her.

“What is this anyways?” She asked finally. He could only see her profile, the light from the outside only throwing enough to make her out faintly, but he could her the uncertainty in her question.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean this. What is this.” She gestured between them and sat up, pulling the sheet up to cover herself. Her hair was a mess, and she had a hickey on the side of her neck, which she would have to figure out a way to explain, but she wasn’t worried about that right now.

“It whatever you want it to be Ginny.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“I don’t have answer.”

She frowned and turned her head away from him. The silence in the room was suffocating till she spoke again.

“You know. I’m not some plaything.”

He felt a little guilty for a moment. The way she said it sounded sad and painful, and he wondered if having sex with him was actually making her life worse. He didn’t think of her as a plaything. He knew her, he’d shared time with her, she wasn’t some random girl he met in a bar. She’d become a facet in his everyday life, and she would continue to be one long after the wedding. They had been pushed together by fate, and they would stay that way for as long as Mat and Leighton stayed married.

“I-I know that.”

“Do you?” She still faced away from him, but her voice was small.

“Yes I do. Look.” He sat up and turned her to face him “I don’t know what this is, besides unexpected but I don’t wanna stop. I know that.”

She bit her lip “Me neither. But what will we tell them?”

“We won’t. We’re consenting adults and what happens between us is no one else’s business. Right?”

“Right…So we’re just hooking up?” She finger quoted, and waited for him to answer her. She looked skeptical, and was leaning away from him. Her wall, which had been down just a few moments ago, was now slowly rising up. He could see it plain as day on her face that she didn’t trust him, and that she was bracing herself for what he would say next.

“Do you wanna? Keep hooking up I mean? I don’t wanna stop but if your not cool with it then we can forget this ever happened.”

Ginny laughed softly and shook her head, the smallest flicker of something behind her eyes before she spoke again “I couldn’t forget this if I tried.”

************

Kaitlin was parked outside of Beau’s apartment scheming.

She’d been there for a while now. She had realized, that she would need to dismantle the wedding from the inside out and the easiest way to get to Mat was through Beau.

He had never liked her. He had never even tried to like her, and she didn’t like him either. He was just another person in Mat’s life who didn’t want to see them together, because they all wanted him with the dumb bitch who broke his heart four years ago.

And what did they know?

They weren’t the ones who listened to him ramble on and on about how much he still loved her. They hadn’t helped him pick up each piece of his heart and carefully, and painfully put it back together. They didn’t have to ouch their feelings down, and listen to him drone on about a girl when she was practically screaming in front of him that she could be better than her. They didn’t know anything.

Kaitlin wiped at a tear. She knew she sounded crazy but she was so broken and consumed by the fact that she’d done everything right. She’d followed all the rules. And they all still loved Leighton more.

His friends. His family.

And even Mat himself.

She was jarred from her thoughts however when she saw Beau open the door to the complex, and turn to speak to someone behind him. She could see it was a girl, and at first she thought it was just someone he was hooking up with, but when she came into the light she realized it was Ginny.

Kaitlin watched in awe as an Uber pulled up to the sidewalk and Ginny turned to him. They spoke for a few moments before he pulled Ginny forward into a kiss so searing, she had to look away. There was no way Mat and Leighton knew about this, or they wouldn’t be sneaking around after dark together. It would surely cause some drama, and definite rift. If they were lying to them about their involvement, the truth coming out could be catastrophic.

She watched as Ginny smiled, got into the car and it drove away, disappearing from sight as he made his way back into his complex. He stopped suddenly at the door and turned to look over his shoulder, eyes moving up and down the street. Kaitlin ducked, and once she was sure he hadn’t seen her she peeked over the dash. He had gone back in his complex, and Kaitlin started her car, smiling a little.

This was the in she needed.

************

Ginny dropped her purse on the floor by her front door and kicked off her shoes. She was exhausted, too tired to even shower as she shed her clothing on the way to her room, leaving it laying on the floor.

She slipped on an oversized T-shirt and crawled into bed, wrapping her knees up to her chest. She felt like she couldn’t breathe, eyes closing.

A single tear slipped out of her eye, and dripped across her nose on to her bed. It was followed by another one, and another as they formed a large wet spot on her sheets. Every emotion she’d been holding, for what felt like her whole life, was pouring out of her eyes, drowning her. Pain wracked her with a loud sob, as she gripped the fabric of her pillow as tightly as she could.

She squeezed her eyes shut, in an attempt to stop the tears but they continued to fall freely. Sleep came easy, tears still on her face and Beau still on her mind.

**************

“Knock knock.” Leighton glanced up from her desk, and was surprised to see Ethan standing in her doorway. She’d only had a few interactions with him but he seemed like a nice guy, which is why she set him up with Ginny in the first place.

“Ethan, hi. What’s up?”

He looked around awkwardly, hands in his pockets “Have you-have you talked to Ginny?”

“Not today, I don’t think she’s here yet. Why?”

“Well Things were going great last night, and then I went to the bathroom and she was gone, and she said she had some kind of emergency or something. I’m just hoping she’s okay?”

Leighton frowned “An emergency? I mean she didn’t say anything to me, but I haven’t talked to her since yesterday. Did something happen?”

He shrugged “I don’t think so. We were talking about your wedding and then she just disappeared.” He looked a little sad standing in her doorway.

“Im sure she had some kind of emergency or something. I’ll talk to her and find out.” Leighton felt another wave of sickness rise in her throat and she covered her mouth. Ethan looked at her concerned.

“Are you alright? Do you need me to call-“

“No I’m fine, I’m just stressed is all. I forgot to eat today. But don’t worry I’ll talk to her.”

“Thanks Leighton. I really like her, and I definitely wanna go out with her again sometime.”

“No problem.”

He gave her a smile and left her office. Ginny was a no show the rest of the day, the receptionist told Leighton she had called in sick.

She pulled out her phone and sent her a message.

Hey, Carol said you were sick today? Do you need anything? How was your date last night?

The typing bubble appeared and then disappeared several times before she answered.

Hey, no I’m good just a cold but thanks❤️ The date went great, I had a good time. He didn’t bring me home till late so I didn’t wanna text you and wake you. I’ll fill you in Monday. Lets do lunch?

Sure. Hope you feel better. Get lots of rest and let us know if you need us.

Something was up.

She had the strangest feeling as she made her way home, and entered the apartment. Mat was sitting on the sofa, and tipped his head back and smiled at her.

“Hey babe. How was work? Im surprised your home this-“ he stopped when he looked at her. She was pale and sweaty, dark circles under her eyes.

“I only went in for a few hours. It was fine-What?”

“Did you eat today?”

Leighton set her purse down and turned to him slowly, chewing on her lip “I forgot. I’m sorry.” Mat sighed and shook his head but she continued talking “Ethan came by my office today.”

“Ethan? The guy Gin went out with?”

“Yeah. He said she left suddenly because of an emergency.”

“What kind of an emergency?”

“I don’t know. But she told me she had a good time and that he brought her home late, and now she said she’s sick.” Leighton wiped the sweat from her forehead and leaned on the arm of the sofa.

Mat frowned “That’s very…odd.”

“Did she seem weird to you? The past couple days she just seems off.”

“I guess. Ginny is moody though so I haven’t really thought anything of it. Maybe it’s just stress. She’s been pretty upset about all this wedding stuff. And it seems like she isn’t the only one.” He reached up to touch her forehead “Do you need to see a doctor?”

“I know, but there’s something else. I can’t put my finger on it but something is going on. She’s hiding something from me. And no I’m fine. Just stress, and I think I have a stomach bug.”

“What would she be hiding? You guys know everything about each other. I didn’t think you kept secrets. I’m sure that’s all it is, but if it continues then you should see a doctor. Okay?”

“We don’t…usually.”

Mat pursed his lips, eyebrows coming together “Do you want me to try and talk to her? She might not tell you if it’s wedding stuff because she wants to keep you stress free.”

“Okay. That would be great. Thank you.” She leaned forward to kiss him and then smiled “I’m going to go change.” He stared at her pointedly until she added “And eat something.”

************

Knock knock

Ginny opened her apartment door at 7:30 that evening to find Beau leaning on the other side.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” She said leaning her head on the door. She was wide eyed, staring at him with an unreadable expression “What are you doing here?”

“I don’t know. I just thought maybe I wanted to see you is all.” He reached forward and let his finger slide across her shoulder to untangle a lock of hair from her tank top strap. A trail of goosebumps bloomed across her skin as his finger slid down, and gripped her wrist “Unless you want me to leave.”

She shook her head and opened the door wider, hand slipping into his as she pulled him inside the door, closing it just as he pressed his lips to hers.

[rayvenden]

Just my KH20th Announcement Trailer thoughts and text dump

First are my quick thoughts and then I go into analysis mode. This post is more for me than anything lol

They're delaying the Dark Road finale AGAIN? The bastards

BRAIN AND HIS HAT IN 3D!

WEIRD LONDON SCALA IN 3D!

I'm going to be playing this mobile game even if it's shit and even tho it looks like another gacha

STRELITZIA IN 3D!

TWEWY style subplot for Quadratum mayhaps? POG

No platforms announced for KH4? Please my one big fear is that it's going to be PS5 timed exclusive. T-T

Dark Road:

Not me studying the missing upperclassmen of Scala to see if anyone looks familiar (like a somebody of Luxord and Demyx, but I don't think they fit that bill). However this looks like it's probably Baldr's missing sister.

---

Missing-Link:

These devices in Missing-Link are probably "links" lol. (Gee how would I have ever guessed)

Apparently the title Missing-Link refers to this taking place in the time between Union Cross and Dark Road (to link them). Makes sense as... that's what the game is.

Missing-Link could also be

-a missing link in a chain of memories

-a lost page of the Book of Prophecies

-a missing star connecting a constellation? (i.e. Yozora or Nameless Star reference)

-a missing person (plenty of candidates lmao. Nameless Star, Subject X, Ava, the population of Daybreak Town, the population of Scala ad Caelum, even Sora. Plus I am sure there will be even more murders *cough* 'missing people' during this game.)

Side note; I think it'd be cool if you got creepy correspondence from a missing person's link. 👀

It's probably also a slight reference to D-Links from BBS, which is how you tap into the trio's and Disney characters' powers. So your link is probably canonically how you use the medals shown. You probably equip your medals to set which moves you can use, like how it works in UX, with a mix of BBS since it’s now in 3D with 3D moves.

Cue me getting hype as hell. I love BBS style customization. UX had plenty of customization but now that it's in 3D we can actually get a heckton of recognizable moves from across the entire series as equippable medals. Watch me equip all Sonic Blades and just nope off into space.

Okay two things here:

First off, gotta be a reference to Yozora (don’t you know, he has a copyright on the night sky). Secondly, it's probably safe to imagine that we'll be dealing with another Real Daybreak Town VS Data Daybreak Town situation here. Since the "stars shown contorted", I think that means that things aren't quite right. 👀 Like, perhaps the constellations don’t line up right... BECAUSE THEY’RE NOT REAL *gasps in shock*

KH4:

Actually I don’t think I have a lot to say here. It’s beyond cool that the Dark Seeker saga is done and we’re getting the start of The Lost Master arc. Seriously the Master of Masters is such a fun character, so I’m excited.

This might be a good spot to find some ingredients:

Oh right I guess people are freakin out cause Star Wars might be in KH too lol:

Also it makes sense that Strelitzia found Sora since they both heckin DEAD

WAIT SEVEN WHOLE DAYS

DO YOU REALIZE HOW MUCH CAN HAPPEN IN SEVEN DAYS

Do I smell a KH2 Roxas style intro????????? DOES THIS CONNECT TO THE YOZORA ENDINGS? WHICH ENDING IS CANON? IS NEITHER ENDING CANON? IS ANY OF THIS REAL, OR NOT? AAAAAAAAAAAAA

anyway

Ignoring his very concerning words, this appears to be the Master of Masters and Luxu due to their stances. Which alright, we were already wondering how MoM got to Quadratum, but now Luxu is here as well? Is it that fucking easy to get to Quadratum? I mean it’s not SUPPOSED to be that easy. Sora and Strelitzia got there by DYING. They’re straight up DEAD. Xigbar went and faked his death and had a chat with the Foretellers and then apparently just moseyed on over to Quadratum??? They got some sorta secret backdoor to just go back and forth as much as they want? Well okay, maybe it’s not dissimilar to the dark corridors I suppose...

Edit: Look at this gremlin man

This is the look of a man who knows too much and is having the time of his lives. I guess if you went through what the MoM forced you to go through, maybe you’d learn to have fun with it lmao

Also, the Master of Masters wanted to vacay in Quadratum to get away from the Darknesses who were chatting him up in UX, but where there is light, darkness will follow, so lookie here he introduced KH’s darkness and heartless and shit to this world, good job buddy.

Edit: I forgot the Donald and Goofy at the end bit. It’s probably Hades which makes sense because why wouldn’t you wanna talk to the Lord of the Dead to get ideas on how to bring back a dead person lol.

Editing again because this on twitter appears to have more information if you’re interested! There’s a bunch of info including something I’m personally excited about:

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 328: Pandora’s Box of Discourse

Previously on BnHA: DEKU TOOK A BATH.

Today on BnHA: 

Also Naomasa grew a beard. Goddamn. 

please let this be a cool chapter that plays nice with my ADHD lol

(ETA: lol I feel guilty because a lot of people hated this chapter, but I’m just happy there was a lot of stuff to make fun of, and also that I have another week to work on my backlog of meta posts since the kids were MIA.)

around one month ago?? ah, okay, so we’re gonna find out what was in that Tartarus security file huh

I love that they just randomly set the place on fire

was it necessary to do this in order to escape? no. was it a good idea to set the island they were occupying on fire while they were in the midst of still occupying it? uh. was it cinematic as fuck? fuck yeah

wow it’s a pervert!!

that’s so great that the villains set loose this fine fellow who I’m sure is definitely not a serial rapist. truly the LoV is so noble and misunderstood. they’re just trying to free society from its chains people

oh my god??!

SHANKED!!! oh my god I cheered for Stain before I realized what I was doing. time to have an identity crisis I guess

so he’s all “hey what’s going on.” which, while a respectable question, is something I personally would have waited to ask until I had put a bit of distance between myself and the fiery murder island. but that’s just my personal preference

Stain you really are tenacious I’ll give you that

“what’s the point of escaping prison if you’re not gonna be smart about it” well shit. anyways yeah you’re dead right, society is in the process of collapsing and the outside world is in total chaos, good call there

oh shit

I mean it’s not like we really expecting anything otherwise, but still. fucking brutal. I feel like these guys’ fates were decided the minute that one guy called AFO “scum” back in chapter 94. AFO is unmatched at getting long-term revenge

??

ahh, was it the security footage??

fdsdfk he’s still alive??

and he’s immediately launching into an inappropriately theatrical monologue even as the darkness closes in on him fdlfksjdlk. you know, was it ever confirmed that the other guy back in chapter 297 was Seiji’s dad? I’m just saying

very impressed that he’s still coherent enough to weigh the pros and cons before making the decision to gamble on giving this info to Stain, who at the very least has his own moral code and isn’t allied with AFO. it was definitely still a risk, but as we now know it was also the right call

what a weird alliance. so Stain tells him that he’ll give it to a just person, and the guy is all,

okay for real though I’m gonna need someone to run a DNA test on this guy. maybe it was some kind of cuckold situation?? the other guy had the family resemblance, but this guy absolutely 100% raised Shishikura Seiji and you are not going to convince me otherwise

anyway, so Stain is all,

PRISON GUARD: “???? ??????? what the hell. what the fuck does that fucking mean. I’m dying here, jesus christ, whatever man fuck you”

(ETA: I kind of feel like this might have been Stain’s last appearance in the manga, given all the fanfare. there’s not really much else he can do for the story at this point, and he seems to have gotten all the character development Horikoshi was planning on giving him. so if this really is it, hasta la vista and good riddance I guess.)

DWLFDKSLDK MEANWHILE, OUTSIDE

(ETA: I feel like this is meant to be evocative of that Sermon on the Mount painting, but in a really fucked up way lol.)

if it were me stumbling upon this scene I would just shake my head and walk right back into the flaming building. not getting involved in that mess. sorry not sorry. I’ll take my chances with the fire, especially given that it’s half-assed neutered BnHA fire lol

blah blah blah and so he decided to pass the info on to All Might -- HOT DAMN, HOLY SHIT

NAOMASA HOLY SHIT. THE APOCALYPSE LOOKS GOOD ON YOU, BOY

“I really like that facial scruff thing Aizawa’s got going on, I think I’m gonna get in on that” yes sir. “also thinking of ditching the tie in favor of the bulletproof vest look. also thinking of getting totally fucking jacked.” good lord. except I’m pretty sure that’s just body armor, but also I don’t care. anyway I should probably stop staring and actually read the fucking speech bubbles here lol

“All Might first handed this information over to Nao, and then went to see Deku, and then came back to Nao” thanks for that tidy little summary Horikoshi. we are capable of piecing events together in sequential order, I just want you to know that. but thank you

“so has Deku finally gotten a bath? also, sucks that Stain saved the day, but what are you gonna do” Nao I missed you so fucking much and didn’t even realize. how am I just now realizing that you are the perfect man

for a second I was gonna ask why Tartarus’s security systems would be cut off from the outside world, and then I remembered that’s a basic security control, and then I actually got impressed by how sensible that is. like, it’s been a while since I could genuinely say that the good guys (excluding class 1-A) did something smart. not that it helped them much in the end, but still

anyway so they’re talking about how AFO was able to coordinate the attack by communicating between his horcrux self on the outside and his ugly peanut-faced self on the inside

huh

okay you have my attention. I am taking notes here lol please continue

ah okay so he says that prior to Jakku, the transfer of information between him and his Vestige self was only one-way. but post-Jakku when Deku was in the hospital, he was able to tell what was happening inside the OFA Radical Lisa Frank Dead People Book Club Realm when he touched him. I feel like we established that before, actually. but he didn’t talk about how it actually felt, though

boy we already know this lol. yes AFO can talk with his horcrux self. and he can also communicate with his little bro in OFA too, let’s talk about that sometime why don’t we. what exactly does that imply, based on the rules we’ve established here

my god I cannot get over Naomasa and his fucking facial hair

no wonder All Might was in such a hurry to leave Deku and get back here

like I have no idea what this radio waves nonsense is but my god, people

that jawline. also so it’s a quirk, I see. except last I checked Deku didn’t have a radio waves quirk, so that doesn’t really explain his connection to AFO. but whatever, hopefully we’re at least getting closer to some kind of reveal here

(ETA: since I sometimes forget that other people’s lives don’t revolve around my theory posts, here are the two relevant links if you by chance want to know my thoughts about this.

Hagakure is still The U.A. Traitor™ regardless of whether Deku is passing information on to AFO through his psychic link, which he almost certainly is.

speaking of said psychic link, Deku is a horcrux.

just posting these now, because whenever trippy OFA stuff happens I tend to get an influx of theory asks. so hopefully this will be a bit of a time saver lol.)

-- wait, what

THAT’S what the recording was??!? holy SHIT. I genuinely was not expecting that. y’all wiretapped his fucking telepathy. fucking quirks, man. wild

AND THEY USED THAT POWER TO DETERMINE WHAT WE ALREADY KNEW, HUZZAH. GOOD SHOW

-- oh shit wait lol, except I forgot we’re not talking about 38 days from the present, we’re talking about 38 days from the date the conversation was recorded. heh. um

yeah that’s the face I would make too if All Fucking Might just casually told me we had eight days left until the end times

oh, pardon me. three fucking days

r.i.p. anyone who thought we were going to have another band arc sob. I sure hope Deku is enjoying that nap

(ETA: I realize people were hoping for a longer rest period here, but given that the man warned us all the way back in chapter 306 that we were entering the final act, you can’t really blame him too much when that turns out to be true. anyway but I do recognize that we’ve reached the point in the story where this kind of discourse is going to become a weekly occurrence, simply because there’s no possible way for Horikoshi’s actual endgame to line up perfectly with the variable headcanons of millions of fans, all of whom have wildly differing and in many cases contradictory expectations which can’t possibly all be fulfilled. anyway, so I’m already bracing myself for that lol. this coming year is going to be a wild ride.)

damn, U.A. out here looking like the motherfucking United Nations

-- is this U.A.?? I actually just realized, U.A. is four interconnected buildings, not two. wait holy shit is this Shiketsu?

wait holy SHIT

based on the overwhelmingly powerful vibes of bureaucratic incompetence, I’m thinking this really is the (future) U.N., or whatever organization it is that deals with international hero stuff

“just let them handle it themselves I’m sure they’ll be fine” yeah okay, thanks guys. appreciate it

wait oh shit did he say that it’s not just Japan?

soooo, what you’re telling me is that AFO is this close to bringing about the end of not just Japan, but the entire world, and you guys don’t think it’s a good idea to help the Japanese heroes stop him? so, genuine follow-up question: are you guys already planning your rich people exodus into space a la Wall-E, and that’s why you don’t give a fuck?? like, what??

omg international heroes

these guys are from World Hoodie Mission, right? is this Horikoshi’s way of reminding me to buy tickets

(ETA: and it worked too lol.)

WHO??? WHAT???

don’t tell me you’re introducing yet another badass new female character for me to fall in love with only to watch as you dismember them and/or blow them up, Horikoshi. I’m getting tired of playing this game my dude. don’t lie and tell me this time will be different. we’re not doing this again goddammit

noooooooooooooooooooo

god fucking dammit lmao. [sighs and rips the previous paragraph into shreds]

on behalf of Americans I apologize for our superheroes always being Like This

I also apologize because I love her already and I’m gonna be shameless about it. so fucking shameless you guys

is her fucking hair red white and blue. it is, isn’t it

this is the volume cliffhanger, 100% lol. it will take every ounce of Horikoshi’s willpower not to put her on the volume cover. he’ll have to settle for the spine or the inner cover this time because Deku VS his class 1-a superpals takes precedence. but it will be a close thing let me tell you

tbh it’s that smile that does it for me. she’s definitely All Might’s protege. get out there and show them how it’s done girl. and maybe call Salaam and BRD and see if you can’t convince them to play hooky from their governments as well. why not. world’s ending in three days you guys. “sorry, I’m busy this weekend” ain’t gonna cut it lol

so while I am not fully caught up with Vigilantes, I have read far enough to know that there’s an American hero named Captain Celebrity whose superpower from what I recall is being a humongous douchebag. and while I haven’t read far enough to know what happens to this guy, I can’t say I’m very disappointed to learn that he’s no longer the number one hero in the U.S. (actually, didn’t they kick him out and that’s why he moved to Japan to begin with?). anyway, so my thanks to Horikoshi for having a marginally higher opinion of Americans than Furuhashi, even though we have definitely not done anything to warrant said opinion lately, and you may have inadvertently opened the door to a pandora’s box of discourse lmao

(ETA: lol I went into the tags and they don’t disappoint. “why is she dressed like a flag” because she’s an homage to Captain America and Major Victory and literally every other character on this list. again, I apologize for fictional American superheroes being Like This. “oh boy another thicc waifu to make the fanboys happy” look, tumblr fandom never seems to have a problem thirsting over Dabi or Tomura or Aizawa or Nao, lol, I’m just saying. “where is Captain Celebrity” idk, probably murdered by the exploding bee cartel, let’s just be grateful for our good fortune and try not to Beetlejuice the man.)

anyway, so let’s see if Horikoshi’s recent character development with regards to making Mineta not terrible anymore will apply to other aspects of his writing as well. I know I was making light of discourse just now, but I do think the complaints about him introducing yet another new character at the 11th hour to be cannon fodder in the final battle are absolutely valid. and again, it wouldn’t be a problem if he didn’t keep maiming/killing off his female characters one by one instead of developing them and letting them kick ass long-term. but that said, I will never complain about Horikoshi adding another female character to the series, regardless of how clumsy the attempt may be. go ahead and pander away, just give us more girl power lol

anyway so we’ll see how it goes, but I think I’m gonna be optimistic and let myself hope once again, even though I’m probably gonna regret it lol. it is what it is. she is standing on an airplane just chilling for fuck’s sake. I’m only human. anyway fingers crossed

[findingjoynweirdstuff]

Dream SMP Recap (March 1/2021) - Breaking Point

Sam has been unable to find a cause for the security breach, leaving Tommy trapped. A heated argument in the cell escalates to a horrifying end.

As the rest of server mourns, the Eggpire celebrates. With their biggest obstacle in the way of their objective gone, it’s time for the next step.

It’s the start of the Final Stage.

---

VOD LINKS:

HBomb94

Ponk

Tommy

Tubbo

Ranboo

Jack Manifold

Connor

Badboyhalo

Captain Puffy

---

- HBomb hosts Foolish and Jack Manifold’s episode of L’Cast!

---

The Prison Stream

(This portion of the recap will be more detailed than normal since it’s one long conversation and there are many important lines here, including a couple that were hard to hear during the stream)

---

- Tommy’s stream starts with him making sounds and singing “Roadtrip.” Dream tells him to stop, he’s trying to write a book.

Tommy: “What are you writing, Dream? What are you writing?”

Dream: “None of your business.”

- There’s a little gray and white cat sat on the chest. Tommy says it’s annoying.

Dream: “No he’s not...he’s actually the best thing that’s happened to us.”

Tommy: (Trying to lead the cat away) “Come with me, come with me...you know what I named him, don’t you? Pussboy, Pussboy!”

- The cat returns to its spot on the chest

Tommy: “Oh, Pussboy, you are so ugly.”

Dream: “C’mon, you’re being mean!”

(Tommy punches the cat)

Dream: “Tommy! Stop!”

- Tommy starts singing “Roadtrip” in autotune. Dream tells Tommy that if he can be quiet, he’ll give Tommy more potatoes.

Dream: “I think that...the cat is the best thing that’s happened to us.”

- Sam joins the call to say hello and ask how it’s been going. He’s come to drop more food into the cell. Tommy also picks up a new clock.

- Tommy asks to be let out, but Sam says he still hasn’t found out what the security issue is. Dream asks how long Tommy will be in here for. Potentially for a while, but not forever.

- Tommy protests about how bad the prison has been. He threatens to get lawyers on Sam, he knows Big Law.

Tommy: "Sam...you know I don’t deal very well in...close quarters situations for a long time, Sam. Sam, you remember when you visited me in exile, Sam? Alright, this is worse than that, Sam...let me out. I don’t like this. Let. Me. Out. Sam.”

- Sam insists he’s doing the best he can and leaves.

- Dream tries to say that it’s not that bad. He’s been in there for a long time, but now it’s better! Tommy writes a book to Dream, signs it and throws it to him.

Dream: “I have company. I have a cat -- I mean, technically it’s not my cat, technically it’s your cat, but still! It’s just as good, keeps me company when I write and everything, we talk sometimes -- ‘cause you’re annoying a lot of the time--”

- Dream throws away the clock in the lava, saying they don’t need it. Tommy punches the cat again.

Dream: “Tommy, hear me out, hear me out...what if...we get out together, okay?”

- Tommy is not a fan of the idea, Dream shouldn’t be let out too. He goes over to the cat and shouts at it for being in his spot. He punches Pussboy twice.

Dream: “Tommy...TOMMY, STOP!”

Tommy: “Excuse me! Come this way, come this way, excuse me Dream I’m trying to right-click Pussboy--”

(Dream moves to get in front of the cat)

Dream: “Tommy.”

Tommy: “Come here, come here! Do you like this cat, Dream?”

Dream: “Yes, I do.”

Tommy: “Why?”

Dream: “Because he -- Tommy, he keeps me company --”

(Tommy punches Pussboy again and leads him towards the lava)

Tommy: “Pussboy, this way. Pussboy, this way. Let me show you the light--”

Dream: “He’s probably low, he’s probably low!”

Tommy: “Oh what, you love him? Do you love him? Do you love him?”

Dream: “Yes, I do...Tommy, he’s made things better in here -- okay listen! When you leave, can you sit him down and leave him here?”

(Tommy goes over and punches Pussboy again. He tries to lead Pussboy away again, but when the cat doesn’t come he punches Pussboy twice more, killing him)

Tommy: “Yeah. And that’s what happens when you love something, bitch.”

...

Tommy: “See, now when I leave, when I leave, you’ll have nothing! ‘Cause you are lonely, and you’re m-m-manipulative, you’re a fuckin’ twat, and I mean that.”

Dream: “Tommy...I’m gonna get out! And you just motivated me -- you motivated me all the time, you just -- that was hope, right? The cat was hope -- the cat was hope that I could live a nice life in here--”

Tommy: “And now it’s dead, now it’s dead.”

- Dream insists that he’ll get out, and when he does, he’ll get his revenge on everyone who wronged him. Tommy asks if he’d kill Tubbo. 

- The subject goes back to Dream’s plan of escape.

Dream: “I have a plan. And the thing is, Awesamdude’s never gonna believe you that I have a plan because he thinks it’s unbreakable, unescapable--”

“I have a plan. And you know, there’s a certain someone who owes me a favor, but -- that might be a part of it, but...I do have a plan.”

- They argue about the conditions of the prison again. 

Dream: “I’ve been in here a for hundred times longer than you, and you sit there trying to tell me that it’s so horrible, that it’s so bad -- yeah, it was! But guess what, we have each other to talk to, and we had a cat until you fucking killed it!”

Tommy: “Dream...Dream, and listen to this -- fucking engrave this on you, write this into your arms, Dream...You don’t have me. You’ll never have me. We don’t have each other, alright? I am me, and you are this fuckin’ loser who goes around manipulating people, lying to get what he wants. You are a fuckin’ no one, man, alright? And when I’m going to leave here, you’re not! You might have a favor -- you think, who is it, Technoblade’s gonna be able to come in here to let you out -- Technoblade, he doesn’t like governments, but he likes self gain! You think he wants to piss off the owner of the most POWERFUL building on the entire server, just so that he can get a video that BARELY scrapes the five million view mark -- NO, Dream, alright? You’re a fuckin’ asshole, you’re deluded, you’re delusional, and I fuckin’ hate you.”

Dream: “Okay...yeah, but I have something Techno would want, so...it means knowledge, alright?”

- Dream says that even when he’s in here, he’s more powerful than Tommy outside. Tommy replies that if he wanted to, he could kill Dream right now. The only reason he doesn’t is because they need the revive book.

- Dream says that he will never use the revive book to help Tommy or his friends. Ever.

Dream: “So kill me. Go ahead, come on.”

- When if Tubbo dies, Dream says, they’ll come begging for Tubbo to be revived, and Dream will ask to be let out.

- Tommy then says that this isn’t worse than exile, because in exile, Tommy thought Dream had all the power, and Tommy knows something...he thinks the revive book isn’t real. Jschlatt was just a drunk, why would he have this book?

Dream: “Jschlatt gave me the book -- why else would I switch to Jschlatt’s side?!”

...

“I’m not lying! Jschlatt gave me a revive book after...before he died....because...he said--” (he cuts off here)

- Dream asks why he would be lying about that.

Tommy: “You’re a liar! You’re a liar, and really, through your Netherite armor and skin, I look at you and you know what I see? I see a sad little man who’s insecure about the fact that this server has gotten so far ahead of him that his only little glimpse of power in this world is gone. And I see an insecure, sad little man. So fuck off. You stupid green lad.”

Dream: “Your life...is literally in my hands. Does that piss you off? Does that make you mad? Does that make you so mad that I -- if you kill me -- I MIGHT AS WELL BE A GOD, TOMMY! YOU CAN’T KILL ME, AND I CAN KILL YOU! So what does it mean, that you can’t kill me because of the revive book -- what does that mean? If you can’t kill me, does that make me some kind of god?”

Tommy: “No Dream. I could kill you right now. If I wanted to.”

Dream: “Okay. But you won’t. But you won’t! I could kill you if I wanted to! I could kill you right now, actually.”

...

Tommy: “I don’t think this revive book is real. Schlatt? He’s fuckin’ dead. I’ve seen his grave! His grave is real, his corpse is there!”

Dream: “Okay...Why don’t you go see him then?”

Tommy: “NO -- stop it stop it stop it st--”

--- ---

CANON DEATH: TOMMY

Cause: Punched to death

--- ---

End of stream.

---

- Tubbo, Ranboo and Jack see Tommy’s death message in game chat.

- They go to the prison and Sam is there to tell them what happened. Sam couldn’t get there in time. He didn’t think Dream would actually kill him. They’re all in shock. 

- Tubbo and Ranboo think Tommy will be back. There’s no way he’s actually dead, right? 

- Jack Manifold is in celebration. He got what he wanted! He thought Dream would want Tommy alive, and killing Tommy himself would be an extra jab in the chest for Dream, but apparently not? And now he has a hotel!

- He decides to check on Tubbo and makes sure he’s okay. 

- Jack walks down to the shore and looks up at the prison, and...it hits him. He’s spent months plotting to kill Tommy. Jack realizes his victory feels hollow. Even now, Tommy and Dream have managed to take away this from him. 

- Of Ze Haus, he says that this place no longer means anything to him. He gets a flint and steel and sets it alight, watching it burn.

- He passes by Tommy’s house and finds Ranboo planting red and white flowers outside.

- Jack switches into his L’manburg uniform and walks along the Prime Path.

Jack: “I remember the day I joined the server. The day after the first war. L’manburg was still a big hole, and we built it up. And Tommy invited me to join. And I betrayed him (laughs), so really this has all come full circle.”

“Maybe I was always really just upset because I always felt like he cared more about the discs than...anyone. And I guess I just enjoyed it when we were friends...and...I’ve not really had any friends...since...then, really. Never really wanted any.”

- Jack later speaks with Foolish and tells him that Tommy’s never coming back from prison. Foolish didn’t know him too well, but he’s still a bit sad. When anyone passes, it’s sad.

- Jack heads back out into the wilderness, wandering to the beach area at the edge of the forest where Quackity had his argument with Badboyhalo a while back. There’s something just beyond the hill.

- Quackity meets him there and escorts him back home, telling him he was heading too close to something, could have gotten “a nice view of it.”

- He’s been thinking of writing up a draft of their contract. He also sees the new McPuffy’s.

- Jack tells Quackity that Tommy’s not in the prison anymore. Quackity says they need to talk to him and make sure Jack keeps his hotel. As the rain pours, Jack tells him. Tommy didn’t make it.

- Quackity and Jack have a moment in front of Tommy’s house. Though upset, Quackity says it’s time to get back to work.

Quackity: “Jack...don’t let this affect business. The train doesn’t stop.”

Jack: “No, it only goes faster.”

- Jack also speaks with Antfrost. Antfrost gives his condolences, and says he’ll put together a celebration “of life.”

Ant: “Bad and Sam will be happy...to attend, of course!”

- Afterwards, Jack heads down into Karls nightclub and ends stream there.

- Connor speaks with Sam Nook at the hotel.

- Bad meets Ant at the Holy Land. Ant asks if the church would be a good place for a celebration. Ant sits Bad down to tell him. Bad is overjoyed. 

- Bad says that now, they don’t even have to do any preparations: 

They can move into the Final Stage.

- They get milk for the cake and decide to throw the party at Tommy’s house!

- They meet with Sam at the prison entrance. He sounds dejected.

Sam: “I didn’t think Dream would ever actually...try and kill him”

Bad: (laughs) “Is this the same Dream we’re talking about? It’s Dream, Sam.”

Sam: “I mean...Dream had...I thought I had...broken the will out of him, to do something like that. But he...he did.”

- He says they need to find out what it was -- he wandered around the prison several times and couldn’t find any sign that someone had done something.

- Ant and Bad try to reassure Sam that Tommy signed the waivers, he went to see Dream, and Sam shouldn’t blame himself. Sam doesn’t see it that way.

- They say they’ll talk to Sam later and leave the prison. They see Sam Nook at the hotel. Sam is excited about the new upgrades for the hotel! Tommy will be so excited to see them!

- They return to Tommy’s house and speak with Punz as they make a party floor and sing the Crab Rave song in dudududus.

- Meanwhile, Captain Puffy is grieving, feeling like she failed Tommy. As she logs on, Bad and Ant decide that Puffy might want to join them for the party! 

- Punz meets them there, and they tell him that Tommy’s dead. Punz isn’t sure how he feels, it’s bittersweet.

- Puffy arrives and angrily tells them to leave. What’s wrong with them?!

- The Eggpire sees Sam Nook at the hotel and goes up the floors to find a place to party. Puffy comes up and tells them to find another place to party. They argue again.

- Foolish arrives to visit his room in the hotel. Puffy leaves them. They quarrel about who has the room for the night.

- Puffy mines down the Eggpire’s meeting room. She’s noticed that being a hero hasn’t worked. Sparing people, being merciful, it hasn’t worked. She might need a change of perspective. 

- The Eggpire decides to visit the Egg and break the news to it. They see the wreckage, but Puffy is in the Nether by the time they get there.

- Puffy visits Logsted.

- The Eggpire goes down to the Egg Room and finds the pathway blocked up with obsidian...is this why the Vines have been slower to grow lately?

- They break the barrier and find the Egg drenched in water. They wake up the Egg and it speaks.

“This world is mine. It belongs to me.”

“No no no, I know, but we’ve got something to tell you!”

“I see all...I...am...all...”

“Oh so you--”

“I know all.”

“You know then! Guess -- well, we’ll tell you anyway in case you don’t know -- but guess what? Tommy’s dead! Dream -- the green guy, you met him -- killed him in the prison! I guess Tommy got stuck there, and Dream killed him! Are you happy?"

“Feed me...I require nourishment.”

“No no no, don’t worry -- that’s coming soon! We’ll take care of that! We’re already gonna begin the preparations, right guys? Yeah, we’re gonna begin the preparations, and we’ll send out the invitations, we’ll let everyone know...and the final stage can commence! This is wonderful!”

- Once on the surface, Bad announces that with a little more preparation, they’ll all get exactly what they want. The final stage is about to commence. 

The day of celebrations, the day they’ve been preparing for, the day the Egg has been preparing for, is about to happen...

- Bad goes down to the Egg Room one last time and stands at the Egg to give a final speech.

“Everything leading up to this point, EVERYTHING, all the way going back to the discovery of this...beautiful, luxurious Egg, okay...we had it all planned. As soon as we found it, we knew what was gonna happen. We knew the objective...”

“We may have forgotten what it was, forgotten the ultimate goal as soon as we boxed the Egg up in obsidian. But guess what -- that didn’t stop the Egg! Boxing it up only made it STRONGER, and LARGER, and more powerful! And the Egg’s been storing up that energy, okay? You may have been thinking the Vines have not been spreading...but that’s because we haven’t WANTED them to spread. We have been working, storing energy, storing power...in preparation for the final plan. The final objective. And there were only a couple people getting in the way. But guess what? One of the biggest obstacles -- Tommy -- is no longer in the way...now that he’s not in the way, we can commence with the final stage...the final party...before it all comes to a conclusion...”

“Brace yourselves...everybody on this server, prepare. Anyone who is anti-Egg...you guys better get ready, because we know who you are. And at the end of the day, the Egg is gonna be victorious. And there’s nothing ANYBODY can do to stop it.”

“Good luck.”

[bokutoslittlebird]

The Perfect Family

Alpha!Bokuto x Beta!reader x Beta!Akaashi

Author’s Note : If you’ve read the little drabbles and asks with the fluffy BokuAka family, then you’re in for a surprise. Those were not canon to the actual works I created, it was just something nice to write and think about. This will not start off fluffy at all. This will also include the pregnancy process, so be warned of that ; This is a sequel to my Kinktober piece, Threesome with Bokuto and Akaashi ; I’m so sorry it took for fucking ever

Warnings: Omegaverse, noncon/dubcon (explicit use of the word r*pe), gun play, choking, water torture (attempted drowning), gaslighting, manipulation, watersports (briefly, kind of), mindbreak, dumbification, pregnancy, creampie(s), asphyxiation, lactation, knotting, breeding (technically), degradation

Kōtarō’s rut had finally ended, pumping you full and fucking you into a stupor, all while Keiji made sure to have him give you a break. It was the week for you and Kōtarō to catch up, after all. You were bonded to Kōtarō and Keiji now, you were their mate, so you had to be taken care of. With the stinging pain on your shoulder from Kōtarō’s mark, you were only missing the legal document to bind you to Keiji the normal, Beta way. Keiji was currently thinking about which ring to get you, since Kōtarō had already decided on his “proposal” gift. Keiji figured you’d need time to adjust, however, as he was laying on the couch with Kōtarō’s arms wrapped around him, you missing. There was a cute show that they were watching, Keiji was sure you’d like it. You weren’t allowed out of the bedroom yet, so he would have to show it to you another time.

Once Kōtarō had been satisfied and Keiji had recovered, both got to work on making your stay permanent. You attempted to leave, but Keiji was quick to cuff you. Kōtarō held you down, forcing you to struggle until there was nothing left to do except lay there. Kōtarō had to go back to Osaka soon, so he was trying to enjoy his last few days in Tokyo.

“That was a fun show. Cute, too,” his yawning interrupted his sentence, cutting it short. Keiji nodded in response, snuggling closer to Kōtarō. The Alpha was warm and comfortable, it gave him a sense of home. “I gotta go back tomorrow, Akaashi,”

“I know, Bokuto-san,” Keiji sighs, knowing he’d have to work on their new pet by themselves. It was going to be a struggle. At the beginning of the week, you were so pliant and easily coerced into things. Now, you wouldn’t look or talk to them. Kōtarō threw a fit yesterday, screaming and crying because you weren’t the same person, you were much more distant. It’s the same when it comes to Keiji, however. You only looked at him with betrayal and sadness, even then only looking at him briefly. You exhausted yourself, but you were fighting them. Distancing yourself and giving them the silent treatment. It made Kōtarō not want to leave, you being so upset at him, but he didn’t have a choice.

Kōtarō needed to find a new place for everyone to live, of course. With the high probability of you becoming pregnant, you couldn’t be living in Tokyo, hours away from your alpha. Knowing you would be carrying his pups without him around had Kōtarō growling, Keiji gently patting his arm. Kōtarō calmed down at that, indulging in the calming scent of Keiji. Keiji has already been bonded to him, so it wouldn’t be as stressful if he wasn’t bonded — you were both his mates and therefore, you could be trusted in Keiji’s care. It was still hard to go. He didn’t want to leave with the state you were in.

“What place were you thinking about?” Keiji mused, running his finger in a pattern on Kōtarō’s arm. Just something to do as he mentally planned for the upcoming weeks. The type of house would determine how long those weeks would be.

“Some place big, but close by the gym and practice gym. Maybe traditional? I’ve always wanted to live in a traditional, zen kind of house,” Kōtarō’s eyes lit up as he talked, images and scenes of a large house full of his lovers and his children, playing volleyball in the yard. Keiji smiles at that, knowing it would be at least a month. Enough time to have you positively pregnant and to get you settled into your new role. It’d take effort, of course it would, but he could do it.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea, Bokuto-san,”

“Ya know, we really gotta get used to calling each other by our given names. You’re gonna be a Bokuto, aren’t’cha?”

“Well, of course I am. Just like [Y/N]. We’ll be the Bokuto family,” he sighs, closing his eyes as the name settles in his mind. The Bokuto family has a nice ring to it, he thinks.

Kōtarō spends his last night cuddling you to sleep. You want no part of it, lying stiff as a board as he presses kisses to your neck and rubs his hand over your stomach. It’s a sickening thought, the possibility of getting pregnant. If you really had been ovulating during the rut, you most likely were pregnant. It’s not like you’d know or not, you barely leave the bed to urinate. It’s disgusting to have to deal with, but even when you do get the bathe and do your business, Keiji is right next to you, ready to intervene if necessary. Although Kōtarō is often in there with you, lathering up your body as his touches become less innocent, Keiji’s stone-cold gaze forces you to not attempt anything silly.

When the morning comes, Kōtarō is desperate to keep something of yours until he can see you again. In order to keep him happy, you acquiesce to his demands and let him take your used clothes, yet to be washed. As if the lingering scent of the morning sex isn’t still clinging to his skin. You can’t smell it, nor Keiji, but you know it’s there as you watch him dress himself, tucking himself away as he rambles on about his plans for the future. Three kids for him, two for Keiji, a nice big house, just the ideal lifestyle for anyone. It’ll never happen, though. His delusions will soon shatter when you stay distant and refuse to love him or Keiji.

Keiji waves goodbye to you, saying he’ll come back when he’s done with work. He plans on taking Kōtarō to the train station and then going to work, so you’ll be stuck for the next few hours. Until dinner time, that is. After an hour, you hear a ping from your phone and reach over to look at it. You can still use your phone, of course, but any possibility of calling for help is useless. In this society, nobody would help you. Not only that, your phone is bugged and linked to Keiji’s. He knows when you unlock your phone, what you do at what time, and how long you’re on it. You’re almost positive he can shut it off if he wants to.

The noise is a message from Kōtarō, telling you he misses you already. A roll of the eyes as you lock it, setting it beside you again. You’re able to barely reach the table beside the bed, but none of the drawers. One hand is secured to the headboard, wooden and strong enough to withstand Kōtarō’s ruthless rut. You feel restless as the day has only begun, the next time you will be able to move out of the bed, if at all, will be when Keiji comes home.

The doorknob to the apartment jiggles, making you jump. Keiji should’ve gone to work, so the sudden noise was unexpected. When it finally turns, you expect to see the familiar hair of your former friend, the tousled raven hair and the broad build. Although the man has the proper stature, the hoodie covering his head and the cheap-looking mask covering his face prevent you from properly identifying him. You can’t tell if he’s smirking or not, the intense feeling that he’s giving off tells you he is. With your hand secured to the bed, you really don’t have much in the way of options. The phone is still an option, but you doubt you could get to it in time.

The man lunges towards you, spurring you to attempt to grab the phone. Your fingers brush the metal device before your arm is forcefully gripped and twisted. You scream as your body twists, attempting to lessen the pain. It’s useless, but you still try. When your mouth opens, he quickly shoves something round and hard in it, your tongue pressed against the barrel of the gun.

“Don’t move a muscle,” his voice was low and hoarse, as if he was adjusting it to hide his identity. It was still unfamiliar to you, your brain unable to register what was going on. The man easily overpowers you, using his weight to keep you pinned to the bed. Fear prickles your skin, the chill setting in deep into your bones despite the lingering warmth of the fading Summer heat. It’s a horrible feeling, frozen in fear as your mind races, unable to do anything except stay still. It’s horrible, the fact you listen to the stranger’s demands despite wishing you were dead and out of Kōtarō and Keiji’s grasps. The gun is removed from your mouth, but the knowledge of it being in his possession is enough to keep you compliant, barely acknowledging the man’s hands moving to slip under the dress you were kindly given.

To keep yourself ready and easily accessible to both Keiji and Kōtarō until they had to part, it was best to slip you into a plain and simple white sundress. It was a present from Kōtarō, a small way of saying you were his now. With the lack of panties or other undergarment, you were essentially naked to the intruder as he sat on his heels, dark eyes scanning over your form. You were shaking from the fear, the unknown, but you weren’t attempting to move or thrash about. It was so easy to take advantage of you, you already nice and wet for him, too. The slick buildup from the morning session with Kōtarō lingers, as well as the creamy substance of his seed fucked into you. Unless the intruder was an Alpha, he couldn’t do much damage, but the thought of leaving you alone without a touch, a taste, was too unbearable.

It didn’t take long for the feeling of something hard and thick to push against your folds, collecting slick and teasing, your sensitivity making you whimper at the touch. It was a sudden plunge, forcing himself deep into your cunt as he groaned, your walls clenching around him. You thought the groan sounded familiar, but there was no more time to think on it when he put his hand on your throat, effectively shutting off proper access to your lungs. Your walls tighten again around him, him finding it hard to retract his hips but thrusting back in. His pace isn’t too fast, but his thrusts are brutal as he continues to drive his cock into your sensitive and abused pussy. He’s not an Alpha, you can tell by the lack of an inflating knot, but it still remains that you’re being violated by an unknown man. The whimpers coming from your throat are all you can release, barely sucking in air to stay conscious. When your vision starts to fade, the man and the walls of the room slowly blurring together, you start to panic.

The gun is still beside you, but it’s not your concern. The bullet in the chamber can’t threaten you unless the barrel’s against your head, but the hand currently cutting off oxygen is threatening your life. Attempting to dig your nails into the fabric of the hoodie is useless, his work gloves keeping his hands from getting any marks, either. Your lungs burn from lack of air and your vision slowly fades to black, a heat and chill settling over your body at the same time as you continue to feel his body pinning you down. The brutal fucking is the only sensation you still have, the stinging of your skin as he snaps his hips to meet yours and the squelching sounds from your sloppy pussy, cum and slick spurting and coating his cock as he chases his own high. You don’t know if he finished inside, your sensations dying out as you slip into unconsciousness.

When you wake up, your lungs ache and your face feels wet. When you flutter your eyes open, you’re faced with the creamy beige walls of Keiji’s bedroom, the lamp and phone on the bedside table. A presence is beside you, a large hand gently brushing your hair. Your eyes widen as you jolt, Keiji gently shushing you as he holds you. It’s comforting, someone familiar beside you after the experience you just had. You don’t know what happened after everything went black, but the smell of Keiji’s morning coffee and his cologne calm you down, tears spilling out as your fists bunch up the fabric of his shirt.

“I had a bad feeling, so I immediately came back home. I didn’t expect you to be completely unconscious, what did you do?” He asked, oblivious to what had really transpired. It was painful to recall, the fear from before rising again as you remember the man’s stature, looming over you as he pinned you to the bed. Another fit of tears come, the droplets soaking the white of Keiji’s shirt. “Darling, you need to tell me what’s wrong. What-“

“A stranger,” a hiccup interrupted you, red and tired eyes looking to his face. He looks confused, so you need to press on. “He broke in. Violated me. He— he ra-“

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m so sorry. If I had known something so horrible would happen, I wouldn’t have left you all alone. You could’ve come with me, but you’ve been so naughty, you know,” his voice is gentle, but there’s a certain chill in his voice that has your fear spiking. His hands are warm, caressing your back as he speaks. “But, you know, you cheated on Bokuto-san and I. I have to punish you,”

“I— I didn’t do it on purpose!” Why were you defending yourself? Your mind had to momentarily adjust itself, the feeling of helplessness from earlier now back. Once the cuff had released the headboard, it was nothing for Keiji to force you into the bathroom. No amount of strength you had could compare to him, nor height. He wasn’t afraid to hurt you either, almost smashing your fingers in the door frame because you wouldn’t let go. “Akaashi, stop!!”

“Akaashi? Now, we can’t have that. You should address me properly, dear,” he grips your face, smushing your cheeks together as you find yourself practically flung into the tub. It’s already full of hot water, almost scalding, as he holds your head under. Struggling once more, it’s futile. His strength far surpasses yours, stature looming over you. Under the water, his image is distorted, but the way he looks down at you feels familiar. Before that thought can continue, you feel your lungs burning as you thrash again, thoughts only focused on surviving. When your head is pulled up, you gulp air as you cough, water sputtering as you do. “You need to be punished.”

“Let me go, I didn’t do anythi-“ your head is once more under the water, nails digging into the flesh of Keiji’s arms as he holds you still. You didn’t get a good gulp of air, so you’re quickly back at the previous feeling of helplessness as your lungs burn, vision blurring. Before everything goes black, you’re once more pulled from the water. Your face is hot, either from lack of air or the heat of the bathroom and water, you’re not too sure. But Keiji is sure of one thing and that’s the way you’re clinging to him. You were digging your nails into him, squirming and attempting to leave, but now your nails were digging into his as your grip tightened around his forearm. You were clinging to him, unconsciously seeing him as your savior, as he was the one who controlled your ability to breathe, therefore your life. He could drown you if he wanted to, but Kōtarō wouldn’t like that. No, he just needed you to depend on him, change your stance on how you saw your lovers.

Keiji also couldn’t help how delicious you looked, drenched as steam rose from the water, your white dress floating around you as if you were an ethereal being. You looked angelic and untainted... an urge to corrupt you washed over him, compelling his body into the steaming water. It was a tight fit, but he managed. With his sweatpants on, it was easy for him to simply push down the waistband and pull out his cock. “Now I have to cover up that man’s scent, or do you want everyone to know you’re a whore?”

“Akaashi, enough, this isn’t any diff-“

“Are you saying I’m a rapist? That’s what you’re implying, right? If you really think that, then I’ll be that. I would never purposefully hurt you,” his words contradict his actions, his hard cock pressing into your walls as he speaks. Sensitivity still lingers, your legs twitching as he sinks down to the hilt. “You’re saying I’m the bad guy, aren’t you? Well, how about I be the bad guy? Let’s recreate the scenario,”

“Akaashi, please, stop!” You cry out, weak limbs attempting to push him off. Hot, fat tears stream down your cheeks as Keiji licks them away, kissing their trails as you continue to sob at the feeling. It was a horrible feeling, being helpless, but a part of you knew you were safe. Keiji wouldn’t let you die, the only thing that prevented you from putting more effort in. Even with the splashing water, he kept one hand on the back of your head to prevent you from going under. Keiji’s pace is always the same — slow strokes, but deep and meaningful as he rocks his hips into yours and makes sure to roll his hips. It’s a completely opposite of Kōtarō’s, brutal and relentless, but Kōtarō fils you out more. Keiji has to make sure you feel every ridge, every vein, every pulse from his cock and have it completely engraved into your mind.

When Keiji gets close, he holds you closer to him, kissing your neck as your hands grasp at the tub’s edges, mind reeling from the force of your orgasms. Your nerves are on fire, your walls constantly clamping around Keiji’s cock like a vice, all while he rides out his own high. He presses a sweet kiss to the mark on your neck, where it meets your shoulder, right where he sports a matching mark on his own skin. It’s Kōtarō’s bond, what links him to the two of you forever. With a final thrust, Keiji spills deep inside you as he kisses you deeply, forcing you to swallow his moan of pleasure as he swallows your mewls. You’re still tight around him, walls fluttering pathetically around his girth as he relishes in the way you feel, keeping his seed locked inside you.

When he breaks the kiss, you’re both panting heavily, chests heaving for different reasons. “There. Now he’s gone,” a gentle kiss on your temple. With those words, a silence settles over the room. Although the stranger may be gone, in his place stands Akaashi Keiji.

The next day, Keiji is home.

“Just a precaution, dear,” he had said. “So nothing else bad will happen to you when I’m not here. You wouldn’t want that, would you?” With those words, he convinced you of his intentions. The previous day’s events had you rattled, the fear of being alone subconsciously rooted into your mind. A small whimper of Keiji’s name, his given name, had him smiling and cooing at you, taking you anywhere in the apartment you wanted to go. It was nice to finally leave the bedroom and bathroom sections, seeing the front room and kitchen, able to hear and see people outside the windows. You dare not let your eyes linger too long on the windows, covered completely with only shadows passing by, nor on the door. The door which had a recently newly installed lock, to take extra precautions. A passing thought of how it seemed to be so quickly enforced comes by, leaving as you become hyper aware of the blank gaze Keiji gives you. It’s not blank, per se. It looks blank to many bystanders, but to you, you know he’s focusing. He’s watching you and analyzing what you do. It’s a test.

A test you seem to have passed, when he calls you back for a bath. He doesn’t guide you there, no threats, just a simple “Come along,” as he walks towards the same bathroom he almost drowned and violated you in. The fear and anxiety of going back has your flight or fight response kicking in, the seemingly easy option of flinging the door open and leaving has your legs moving. But Keiji is quicker, stronger, and smarter than you. Before your fingertips can even graze the lock, your face is slammed into the floor.

“You were doing so well, too,” his feet are planted on either side of you, one moving to plant itself on your back. With a bit of force, you’re screaming as he has his heel pushing into your spine. “You deserve to be punished.”

“Fuck you, Akaashi!” You spit, squirming and wriggling to get him off. When his foot moves, you attempt to get up, but soon he drops down and fists your hair in one hand, the other pushing your cheeks together.

“I should wash that dirty mouth of yours,” he growls, shoving your face against the floor. By shoving, he essentially drops you into the floor. With a burning sensation in your nose, you feel a vaguely familiar liquid trickling out, a small red dot beneath you. He does it once more, making sure to keep his hand on your head to prevent you from getting up. “I trusted you to listen to me, [Y/N],”

“I’ll never listen to you,” you declare, hands balling into fists beside you. “I’ll never forgive you and Bokuto for what you did. I’ll never forgive or forget how you raped me, either!”

“I did no such thing. You enjoyed it, whore. You clamped around me like a vice last night, just as you probably did the stranger that violated you. Can it be consider violation if you were wet? What about when you started to enjoy it?”

“How would you know that, unless-“

“I know how much of a slut you can be, sleeping around with Alphas in high school and other Betas. You probably got off on being raped,” He sneers, putting more force in his hand, making it uncomfortable as your cheek is smushed against the floor.

“Fuck you,”

“I’ll take that as a yes. As a punishment, you won’t be leaving that bedroom for some time,” he finally lets you free, a large breath of air inhaled as you realize he was putting his weight on your lungs. “Come here,”

Wrenched from the ground, you find yourself dragged, kicking and screaming, back into the bedroom where Keiji cuffs you to the headboard. He’s huffing, but he manages to get both wrists cuffed to the headboard. Back to square one, with you refusing to acknowledge him while he tries to talk. Well, he does talk, you’re forced to listen.

When dinner time comes around, you expect some plain chicken broth or maybe even water, but instead you’re given nothing. Keiji doesn’t come in the room at all. The water running let’s you know he’s washing dishes, but where’s your meal? When his humming enters the room, you know he’s coming down. When he opens the door, in his hand lays a plate with bread crust and crumbs, along with some pocky sticks. Just two, however. Barely considered a meal. “Dinner!”

“You’re kidding me,”

“Dear, you know I don’t joke around easily. You were naughty this afternoon, so you’re going to eat my leftovers. Bread crust and some stale pocky sticks is the only thing on your menu,”

“I’ll starve instead,” a glare sent his way does frazzle him one bit, instead almost makes him... chippier. As if you’re falling for his well hidden trap. A nod and he’s gone, your only source of food with him. He won’t enter to room again until nighttime, so you’re left to wallow in your own solitude, something you used to take for granted.

When Keiji does finally come into the room, you’re excited to see him before remembering you don’t like him. Instead of taking the key and releasing your restraints to sleep, he grabs his pillow, his blanket, and his phone charger. “Where are you going?”

“Well, since you obviously hate me, I thought it’d be best that I leave you alone. After all, that is what you wanted, yes?” A small smirk is on his face as your eyes widen, thoughts running through your head as he takes his leave. Without a bid goodnight, Keiji leaves you alone in the room. With no possible entertainment except your mind, you feel uneasy. Unsteady. The world is suddenly dropping you off in an empty room with nothing and you can’t think of anything to keep yourself entertained. The television set buzzes to life outside, while the popping of popcorn fills your ears along with the melted butter smell. An urge to move flits around, but you decide it is best to not.

The next day, it’s a similar situation. Within three days of Kōtarō’s leave, you’ve found yourself craving his company more than ever. Keiji is ruthless and merciless, entering the bedroom for clothes and then leaving for work. He doesn’t talk to you, he doesn’t look at you, he barely enters the room anymore. You feel your stomach grumble at the thought of food, your mouth dry from the lack of fluids in your system. A pathetic way to die, one would think. With the lack of nutrition, your body will eventually decay or fall into an unstable state. Keiji isn’t a dunce, he knows this — at least, he should. Why then, you wonder, is he allowing this? Not only are you completely attached to the bed, but you haven’t been able to get up at all, even for bathroom use. The urine has stained the sheets, turning the pristine white cotton into a grimy yellow color, the ammonia stench covering the entire bedroom. You felt like a helpless child, in dire need of your parents to come home.

In a way, that’s what it was. You were helpless and needed someone else’s help. You need Keiji’s help. You can only go so long before you end up breaking, and you’ve reached a limit. The disgusting liquid under you was the final thread, the squelching and squeezing every time your hips move to a different area to attempt to leave the spot resulting in a failed attempt. The white dress was soaked, first from the bathroom incident and now it was dyed yellow due to your own fluids. Kōtarō wouldn’t be happy with those results.

When Keiji finally comes home, you hear him. You hear the door close and a sigh. Waiting for him to enter the room is quickly disregarded as you call for him. With no hesitation, he arrives at the room, looking at you. “You called, darling?”

“Keiji, please. I’m sorry I was bad. I need you, please don’t leave me,” you cry out, pulling on the cuffs. Shushing you, he quickly attends to your wrists, red and raw from the tugging, pulling, and twisting you’ve done over the past day. Once one hand is free from the restraint, he’s happy to feel it grabbing his shoulder, a silent beg to not leave. “Kei-“

“I know, I know. I won’t hurt you,” his words calm you down, sobs turning into hiccups as he guides you off the bed. Your legs are weak, unstable from lack of use, so he bridal carries you into the bathroom, not caring about the urine. After setting you on the toilet, he strips you of your dress and starts the bath. Trusting you to not move, he leaves. Another test, to see if you’ve really shaped up after the last attempt.

Keiji stands in the bedroom, pulling the sheets off the bed and removing the pad. He puts them aside, but waits. No movement from the bathroom, not even the toilet seat squeaking or the shutting off of the water. Continuing to put the sheets and dress away, he picks out a set of panties — new and clean, a treat for being good — to go with the pastel pink sundress. It looks exactly like the other one, except the color. After getting a towel and a change of clothes himself, he leaves.

You’re still sitting on the toilet, looking at him as he enters. Perking up, you push into the hand the caresses your head, brushing the tangled hair. He stops the water, guiding you into the tub. Once you’re settled, he strips down and joins you.

“You’re not going to hurt me?” You ask, voice dull.

“Of course not. When have I ever done that?”

The next day is such an improvement, Keiji can’t help but let Kōtarō know how well you’ve adjusted. You’re compliant out of fear rather than love, but Kōtarō doesn’t know that. He’s so excited to see a picture of you cooking in the kitchen, he probably wouldn’t care. The picture doesn’t capture the longing look at the knives, the fleeting glances at the door, the rigidness of your body as Keiji wraps his arms around you. It’s small gestures, but you never move to accomplish the action. Your finger might twitch, a gulp as you see the unlocked door, but you continue on. You make the noodles, you bring the tray to Keiji, you sit in his lap and allow the arms to secure your place. The food is something you’re ever thankful for, the lack of food spurring your resilience into breaking. With a gentle blow, Keiji feeds you the ramen you dutifully prepared for the both of you all day.

You never looked at the door again. You never looked at the knives unless you were cutting something. Even with Keiji breathing down your neck, eyes focused on your hands, you didn’t twitch or move to hurt him. You went to the bathroom and didn’t complain when he joined you. Even when he had to do his little daily checkup, you didn’t complain. The first time, you mentioned it tickled and questioned what he was doing, sticking his nose between your legs as he pried them open. He just smiled and said he needed to know if you were healthy, to which your questions easily stopped. Although he occasionally swept his tongue over your still wet folds, you never told him to go away and leave you alone. Even when he went further and had put you on the bathroom’s countertop before diving between your legs once more, your fingers thread themselves through his hair as you moaned.

When the news of Kōtarō coming back reached your ears, you didn’t know how to feel. Keiji was the one to help you, give you comfort, so you didn’t feel too excited to see Kōtarō. Keiji knew this would cause problems, as Kōtarō was expecting you to be as loving to him as you were to Keiji. After an explanation of the situation, you promised to perform appropriately for Kōtarō. With a whispered threat of locking you up again, you easily complied with everything you were asked to do. When Kōtarō came through the door, he was easily able to catch you as you jumped on him. “Welcome back!”

“Aw, [Y/N]! I’m glad to be back!” He nuzzled into your neck, indulging in your scent. You could easily pretend to be in love with Kōtarō, but your scent would tell him if you were feeling off. With his superior senses, you had to be forced into a mindset where you did love Kōtarō. Threats and memories of the past had could nodding along, situating yourself into his life easily. “I missed you, a lot,”

“Well, we won’t have to be gone for so long again, right?” You ask, a pout forming. “Or are you going to leave me?”

“Oh, no! You’re gonna live with me,” he grins, a closed eye smile. Your eyes widen as the information is processing, Keiji coming from the kitchen.

“It was a surprise for you. We’ll be moving to Osaka to be close to Bokuto-san,” he’s drying a knife, one he recently finished washing, but it’s also a silent threat. Kōtarō didn’t see the horrified look on your face, but he sure did.

“O-Oh. Okay! I can’t wait, when are we.. when do we move?” Twiddling your fingers, Kōtarō wraps his arms around you once more, effectively picking you up. No hesitating, your legs wrap around his waist as he looks up at your face, love flooding his eyes.

“You’ll move in with me tomorrow. Once Akaashi’s boxed everything up, he’ll join us. Our room is all set up, and there’s lots of rooms for kids. Speaking of-!”

“Another time, Bokuto-san,” Keiji harshly whispered, Kōtarō’s eyes widening before smiling, nodding. You didn’t know what that was, but you then focused on Kōtarō moving to the couch.

“Let’s eat, I’m starving! Maybe I can have something special for dessert, if you know what I mean,” with an added eyebrow wiggle, you shyly smile and nod. It’s what Keiji told you would please Kōtarō. It’s what Keiji told you that you need to do.

The dinner itself is fine, but when you ask to use the restroom, Kōtarō points out the red splotches on your white dress. Panicking, you attempt to locate the spot as your face heats up in embarrassment. Keiji then points out the bit of blood on Kōtarō’s pants, making you think your cycle has started. At that mention, Kōtarō’s growling in anger as you seize up in fear, unsure of what to do. Keiji tells you to change while he deals with Kōtarō, you immediately obeying and going to the bedroom.

“I thought ovulating meant she would get pregnant. Why isn’t she pregnant? Were you wrong?” Kōtarō asks, still angry. He knows he scared you, your lingering scent of fear in the room and around him. He thought he could smell another scent on you, but he didn’t know what it could be.

“Bokuto-san, I know this is frustrating but it’s possible she didn’t get pregnant. However, spotting is a sign of pregnancy. It was only a few drops. If she has anymore blood leakage that gets heavy tonight, we’ll know,” Keiji is able to calm down Kōtarō, who rolls his shoulders back and lies against the back of the couch. “Do you want to change your jeans?”

“Nah, it’s barely noticeable. Plus,” a thumb runs over the denim, Kōtarō licking his lips as his eyes darken, “this is like she’s claiming me, right?”

Kōtarō does not force himself on you that evening. Instead, he just cuddles you that night. It’s a differing touch than Keiji’s, who ends up rolling to the other side of the bed in the night. Kōtarō holds you close and tightly all night, snuggling closer to you, as if it was possible, and nudging his nose in your neck. It’s sweet, you think, as he caresses you like you’re made of glass.

The next morning, Kōtarō has you properly dressed to leave with him. A set of panties, sweatpants, t-shirt, and a hoodie. It’s a casual set of clothes, but they are all you came to Keiji’s house in a week and a half ago. Kōtarō says he’ll get you better clothes once you’re settled in, but you feel uneasy as you bid goodbye to Keiji. He worries about your mental state once you’re alone with Kōtarō, but he just has to hope you’re able to seem stable enough for a day.

In Osaka, you feel like your life is beginning anew. It’s not much different from Tokyo, but as Kōtarō guides you through the streets, it becomes known that Osaka has a lot more greenery. It’s very beautiful, in your opinion. When he stops in front of an old house, you glance at him. “Our new home, sweetheart!” He cheers, kissing your cheek as he picks you up. Carrying you inside the house, you notice the security. The gate is only opened via pin entry, which the gate itself is roughly 2 meters tall. Even the door to the house requires thumbprint access, a very modern and technological touch in an older, traditional house.

He shows you to your room, which is also his room, but yours too. It has its modern touch, with the remaining aspect of futons to lay on. The cameras in the hallway also are in your view, the one in the bedroom and the hallway. Looking into each room, you notice they are containing cameras, but one room is different. “What’s this?”

“Oh? This is our nursery! So, when you have a baby, it’ll be in here,” he chirps, pointing out things in the room. Scanning the room, you notice the lack of camera secured.

“Where’s the camera?”

“What— what camera?” Rubbing the back of his neck, he fakes confusion. You see right through it.

“I noticed the other cameras. There’s not one here,”

“Oh, well, that’s because this room has baby monitors!” He gestures to the white device. A nod of understanding has the tour moving on. Showing you to the kitchen, you notice the pantry and fridge are stocked. “Would you make me dinner?”

“Of course. What do you want?”

“You, served hot and steaming in the bath,” he grins. Eyes widen as you realize what he wants, you sheepishly laughing as you acquiesce.

Kōtarō is much rougher than Keiji, you knew that, but the way he fucks you with fervor as he hasn’t seen you in almost five days is something akin to his rut. Sinking his teeth into your skin, remarking his territory as he spurs you into your first orgasm of the night. Your nails are digging into his broad shoulders, the only thing you can use to keep yourself grounded. The setting wasn’t in the bathroom, but rather the bedroom where he claimed he wanted to “seal the deal” of you coming home. Legs tighten around his waist, back arching as he continues to drive his cock into you and litter your neck with less painful marks, claiming already claimed territory. As he presses a wet, sloppy kiss against your lips, you scream as you tighten your walls, feeling his knot force its way inside you.

A warm hand rubs the side of your body as your walls convulse around him, squeezing as he pumps you full of his cum. It’s a memory to you, but it feels so warm and fulfilling, you immediately relax in his hold as he continues to pepper kisses along your body. It’s a comforting feeling, being praised and cared for, a drastic difference from the way Keiji treated you a few days ago. Well, how you think he treated you a few days ago. He said he never did it, but your body said differently. With Kōtarō’s eyes of love looking down on you, you didn’t think it mattered. That was in the past, this was the present. You felt comfortable here, that was what mattered.

When Keiji arrived with a bunch of boxes, you were told to make them lunch so they could eat when they were done. Kōtarō said he didn’t want you straining yourself after last night, so you agree to his demands. Deciding to make some udon for lunch, you get to work as they lug in the boxes. The boxes aren’t large nor heavy, but watching Kōtarō easily lift three of them with no effort, while Keiji brings in two at most with also no effort, you feel yourself get wet at the thought of them hot and sweaty afterwards. With a possible treat in mind, you work more diligently, mentally preparing yourself to ask them.

Keiji mentioned he’d be looking for another job while Kōtarō was at the gym. It would be the first time you would be alone and free to roam. You begged Keiji to not leave for too long, hands grasping at the fabric of his shirt as he pried your hands off. Kōtarō gave you a sweet kiss before he left, telling you he’d try to hurry back, but you knew Keiji would get back first. Sitting in the large house, you didn’t know what to do except cook and sleep. Your phone screen lit up with a message from Kōtarō, a picture of him blowing you a kiss with a message of ‘I miss you!’ under it. You smile at that, sending back a message that you miss him, too.

Before you lock your phone, you look at the many games you have on it. There’s one game you don’t remember being on it, it looks like a tracker app. Clicking on it, it welcomes you and it shows how far along you are in.. pregnancy? First reaction is to panic, how do you know if you’re pregnant? Going into the internet app, you search up symptoms of pregnancy. One that jumps out to you is the spotting, only a little bit of blood as the sperm fertilizes the egg. It is most likely what you did on Kōtarō’s lap, the day he came to Tokyo. Another surge of panic comes as you think of your lovers, your mates. With Keiji looking for a new job and Kōtarō being busy with being a professional athlete, they don’t have time to take care of you and a baby. You decide to not tell them.

Although you decide to not tell them, the next week is excuses of your recent symptoms. You find yourself more exhausted than usual, not even getting out of bed to bid goodbye to Kōtarō and Keiji. Not only that, you end up in the bathroom as you feel sick, but only half of the times does something come up. It’s when you have another episode of morning sickness does Keiji pop the question. “Should I get a pregnancy test?”

“N-No! I’m not pregnant, just some bad sushi!” When Keiji’s grip on your arm gets tighter, you whimper. “Keiji, stop hurting me,”

“I’m not hurting you, I just need you to tell me the tru-“ the door shutting cuts him off, his attention to the door of the bathroom where Kōtarō is, panting.

“Something’s wrong, isn’t it? I could sense it,”

“I’m just a bit sick-“ “She’s pregnant-“ You both speak at the same time. Your eyes widen as Keiji looks at you.

“Pregnant? Now? Really?” Kōtarō is ecstatic, but you don’t take it that way.

“I’m not, I promise! I’m sorry!” You beg. Kōtarō’s mood turns sour, the anger directed towards you. Keiji stands back, but he doesn’t interfere.

“Why are you lying to me? If Keiji says you are, then you are! I know you’re lying!” He kneels on the ground and grabs your shoulders, digging his meaty fingers into the flesh. You yelp in pain, attempting to get him off. “Why are you doing this?! You were doing so well!”

“Stop, Kō-chan, stop! You’re hurting me!” A call out of his childhood nickname has his rage quelling, as you brush his hands off and rub the stinging skin. “I don’t want to be pregnant,”

“This isn’t about what you want. It’s about what we want, do you understand that?” Keiji speaks, voice low and threatening. You quickly nod your head, attempting to explain yourself.

“I- I thought that you wouldn’t want a baby because you’re both busy! I don’t- I don’t want to burden you more than I do,” with your words, the anger and rage suddenly evaporates as they understand.

“Burden us? Baby, we love you and do everything for you. You’re going to be carrying my pups and Keiji’s babies, we want this. This is all I ever hoped for,” Kōtarō coos, taking your hands and pressing a kiss to them. A fit of sobs escape as you wrap your arms around him, hiccuping into his chest. Keiji sits and smiles, knowing you have completely adjusted into the proper role.

With the news of your pregnancy, Kōtarō is able to get off a lot more to be there for you. You’re no omega, so it’s not as if he has to take off for 9 months, and Keiji is there to take care of you. Keiji takes care of any appointments you need to do, signing you into a private hospital nearby where Kōtarō’s teammate’s omega gave birth. A list of what was normal was given to you and Keiji and what would be a cause for concern, so you made sure to drill into your head about the possible problems. It was vital that you were able to give birth, being able to give Kōtarō and Keiji what they wanted all you needed to take care of yourself. Keiji prepared your meals, making sure you were eating properly even before the bump showed.

When the bump became prominent, you were glad that your wardrobe consisted of dresses. The dresses you had were all loose-fitting and easy to move around in. With the upcoming winter months, you had lots of blankets and an oversized jacket, bearing Kōtarō’s MSBY number and logo. Kōtarō couldn’t keep his hands off of you, always rubbing your bump and pinching the extra fat you were putting on. Worry over the added weight was a brief concept that quickly evaporated as Kōtarō voiced how much he loves the extra meat to fondle and love, tickling you as you giggle afterwards. Keiji couldn’t say he disagreed with Kōtarō, the added weight adding to your cuteness charm as you did the most basic and minuscule things. He could disagree with Kōtarō on the obsession with the pregnancy milk, however.

Lactation was painful, the way your boobs ached as they were full of creamy milk. Although they ache, Kōtarō encouraged you to let him drink from them. Hesitation was in the beginning, but once his lips had secured themselves on your nipple and started sucking, it was quite relaxing. The tender ache in your breasts were gone as Kōtarō drank from them, but he often had to drink from both of them due to Keiji’s aversion. He didn’t see the appeal, he rather enjoyed teasing your nipples when the sexual appetite of yours had risen, but he didn’t see the appeal in drinking the milk. Keiji did oblige Kōtarō, however, in looking into lactation cookies, which would increase milk production and could even make it taste better. It was worth a try, as it would help the children to develop as you breastfed them.

The lactation cookies Keiji made looked awful, but tasted amazing. You would have eaten all of them had it not been for Keiji stopping you. Kōtarō seemed excited, immediately begging for another go. He’d have to wait until nighttime, since he often took naps after you breastfed him during the day.

At night, you often slept completely naked, able to easily feed Kōtarō if he woke up in the middle of the night. Your sex drive had risen exponentially in your second trimester, to the point Kōtarō had to request off to take care of you. He made sure to keep his promise, stuffing you with his thick cock and plugging you up with his cum or lapping at your folds until your fluids splashed against his face. With the third trimester underway, your libido has decreased while your milk had increased, but that didn’t deter Kōtarō from getting frisky. Even as Keiji bathed away from you two, he couldn’t help but touch himself to your whines and mewls.

Kōtarō has been riding a cloud since your pregnancy came about. Even before the milk, he found it hard to resist fucking you, especially with the added sensitivity. Your breasts were larger now, bouncing with every thrusts as he tweaks the nipples, watching the cream dribble from them. He can’t help himself, really, as he goes to attach himself to one of your perky buds. When Keiji enters the room, he chuckles at the sight.

“Should we worry that there won’t be enough milk for you and the baby?” He muses, sitting on the futon next to you. Your hand grasps at his silk shirt, bringing him down to give you a kiss. Even as Kōtarō drills into you, you want more. A wet pop resounds around the room as Kōtarō laughs, groaning in your ear as he plugs you with his knot, pumping you full.

“The pup can have those bottles, and with help of those miracle cookies, we should be fine. You sure you don’t want to at least try a bit? It feels nice for her, doesn’t it, my little Beta?” He coos, pressing kisses to your cheeks as you come down from your high, walls fluttering around Kōtarō’s cock.

“It relieves some pain, I’ll admit that,” you smile at Keiji. “You can try,”

“Well, how can I say no to that?” He smiles back at you, brushing hair out of your face. Kōtarō massages your breast, holding it so Keiji can attach his lips to the nipple. His eyes focus on the creamy liquid dripping from the bud, only to become transparent as it follows gravity. When he does get a taste, he knows he’s in trouble. It’s as delicious as Kōtarō said, creamy and full that makes you want more. As he sucks with fervor, you giggle and Keiji is joined by his other lover, suckling any milk he left behind. It’s such a strange thing to happen, both grown men sucking on your chest as if they had been born only recently. With the swell of your stomach, you knew they’d have to share their milky mine.

As your due date drew near, you found yourself unable to do anything alone. Kōtarō was off completely until you delivered and Keiji was no longer looking for a job, as it was decided Kōtarō made enough for everyone to live comfortably. He knew he’d have to find another job soon, as more children were born and needed to be fed, but that was a well ways off, at least 9 more months.

What started as a normal day soon turned to chaos as preparations for delivery expedited when your water broke. The hospital had your room prepared already, but it was for your week stay as you were three days away from your date. Kōtarō was in a frenzy, unsure of what to do but desperate to do something. Keiji has to drive to the hospital, while you were doing breathing exercises with Kōtarō in the back seat. It was the birth of their first child, so even Keiji was panicking, but he was also excited.

Once settled into the room, the nurses had to check to see how far along you were dilated. Kōtarō was anxious, his scent permeating the room as he started to pace. The doctor had come in, spurring him into a fighting mentality because the doctor was another Alpha. Keiji and a nurse had to get him out of the room, with a promise he could see the children once they were born, but he would have to wait in the waiting room. Weakly calling out his name and telling him you were fine, he obliged as he left, punching the wall once as he felt his emotions boil over. Keiji was by your side, holding your hand as you squeeze it, pushing when the doctor told you to.

When the room was filled with screaming, the clock chiming as 12:15 had arrived, signaling the date of birth of your first born son. With his stubby arms and legs, you laughed as you held him, Keiji getting the honor of cutting the cord. The baby still needed to be cleaned and checked over, so the doctor and nurses took him while Keiji went to get Kōtarō. By the time Kōtarō and Keiji has come back, you were holding a small, but still big, baby boy swaddled in a thick blanket. Kōtarō immediately raced over to look over both of you, his scent out of control as his emotions mingled together. He didn’t know what to think.

“It looks like it’s yours, Kōtarō,” Keiji says, hand resting on Kōtarō’s shoulder. He smiles in response, looking at the baby’s golden eyes blinking open at him.

“Sure does, Keiji. I guess the next thing we should work on is proper marriage, right?” He watches as the baby grasps his finger, the small hand even smaller compared to his large one.

“A proper marriage, yes. The ring, the dress, the ceremony, you would like that, wouldn’t you dear?”

“Of course Keiji. Anything you want.” As you look up to him, he sees nothing but love in your eyes. He smiles, nodding in agreement.

“Well, as well as making sure the next one’s mine. We should start on that as soon as possible, don’t you think?”

[rafaelblackbird15]

Teen Wolf Fic Recs Part 2: Steter

It took me quite awhile to gather all these together, so please enjoy discovering more parts to the incredible world of Teen Wolf, provided to you by the wonderful writers of our fandom.

Leave comments and kudos for these writers if you can, they really deserve it, they're wonderful. And it's my honour to try and share their creations with tumblr.

These are Steter, Stiles Stilinski/Peter Hale fanfictions. Read them at your will. Check the tags on the actual fics for warnings and such.

I have included links to authors that write a lot of Steter as well, and some of their fics for examples. I'm sorry this post got so long, haha, but enjoy the stories, they're worth it.

If any of the links don't work, just comment and I'll fix it.

Check out my other Sterek fic recs [Part 3] and [Part 4] and Steter fic recs [Part 1]

*********

Broken Bones and Broken Bonds by twothumbsandnostakeincanon(somanyofthekids) on Archive of Our Own

Words: 20148

Chapters: 4/?

Summary:

Stiles kind of wished that he’d at least tried weed before this. 

Or something, you know? Maybe taken up a graffiti hobby, or even just skateboarded in front of City Hall often enough to get a citation. 

He wished he’d done something to be deserving of the looks people gave him now, rather than just being the recipient of his dead father’s unused power. 

**********

Stigmata by twothumbsandnostakeincanon (somanyofthekids) on Archive of Our Own

Words: 1661

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

He feels so hollow that he almost wonders if he's been turned inside out. This emptiness he feels; is it the vastness of the entire world?

How do you fill a world? With people, he supposes. But his people no longer want him.

He needs people.

*********

Beefcake Mountain by twothumbsandnostakeincanon(somanyofthekids) on Archive of Our Own

Words: 14565

Chapters: 7/7

Summary:

Shortly after moving back to Beacon Hills, the left hand of the Hale Pack opened a text from a mysterious number.

"Is there a mirror in your pants? Because I can see myself in them."

What the f—

**********

Steter Week 2019 by twothumbsandnostakeincanon(somanyofthekids)

Works: 4

Complete: No

Summary:

There isn't a summary listed so I've included the first fic underneath:

Marvelous Miss and Magnificent Mischief by twothumbsandnostakeincanon(somanyofthekids)

Words: 3346

Chapters: 1/1

also Part 1 of the Magnificent Mischief series

Summary:

“Marvelous Miss and the Magnificent Mischief!” the carnival barker shouted just outside the corridor with all the food tents. “Come see Miss Paige do amazing tricks with her talking raven! He not only speaks, but he jokes! He teases! He philosophizes!”

********

Author: twothumbsandnostakeincanon(somanyofthekids)

This author has a lot of wonderful Steter fics, and their writing of the pairing is really worth having a good look through.

*******

Blood Runs Cold by Smalls2233 on Archive of Our Own

Words: 111408

Chapters: 22/22

Summary:

“So then why are we letting Scott and Derek search for it if you know it's useless?”

Peter looked down at Stiles and cocked his head with a grin. “Because I think seeing my nephew and your best friend run around like headless chickens while I think up a plan is hysterical.”

“And the plan is…?”

----

Trusting Peter Hale is something that Stiles had repeatedly told himself to never do. He had seen first hand the results of Peter's plans and schemes, but when a shadow began tormenting Beacon Hills, he found that sometimes he'd have to to play along with Peter's games.

This story does include a dose of Chris&Stiles interaction about midway and carries on throughout, and then Chris/Peter towards the midend, which also carries on. And it kind of dissolves into Chris/Peter/Stiles. If that's not your taste, that's fine, because the majority of the story is Stiles/Peter, and that majority is really really good Steter.

**********

No One Listening Tonight by Smalls2233

Words: 6985

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

That left… well it left Peter and only Peter. Relying on Peter for help was only slightly better than stabbing himself through the eye with a hot poker. But desperate times called for desperate measures.

Of course, there was always the option of packing up and letting whatever was trying to destroy the town succeed this time. Stiles snorted under his breath as he thought about how that would probably leave him with fewer injuries than dealing with Peter would. But unfortunately, that wasn’t an option. Stiles knew he needed to head downtown to Peter’s apartment and pray the man was willing to work with him.

----

Stiles stumbles into a magical trap forged by a wannabe warlock.

*********

Author: Smalls2233

*********

Blue by Wynnebat on Archive of Our Own

Words: 3179

Chapters: 2/2

Summary:

Derek brings both Scott and Stiles to the hospital to prove a point about hunters, but Stiles isn’t sure the point he’s getting is the point Derek’s trying to make. Especially when his black and white world explodes into color the moment he looks into Peter Hale’s eyes.

*********

The Long Way Around by Wynnebat on Archive of Our Own

Words: 15569

Chapters: 3/3

Summary:

When Peter leaves Beacon Hills for good, he expects that to be it for the broken bonds of the last remaining members of the Hale pack. Fate and Stiles Stilinski aren’t of the same opinion.

**********

Prowl by Wynnebat on Archive of Our Own

Words: 3454

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

Laura's body is never found, but instead of continuing with his murder spree, Peter gets distracted by the scent of his mate. Stiles gets very distracted by the huge wolf that starts showing up at his house all the time.

**********

Author: Wynnebat

This author writes some really interesting, deep stories about Steter that are really beautiful.

**********

your last white lie (everything is not alright) by snowdarkred on Archive of Our Own

Words: 4023

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

Stiles says yes, and things go downhill from there.

**********

reflect by snowdarkred on Archive of Our Own

Words: 569

Chapters: 1/1

Part 1 of the dig your teeth in and tear until you taste (peter/stiles oneshots) series

Summary:

(previously posted to tumblr)

When he dreams, he can sometimes still hear his mother’s voice, explaining it to him: Reflections are the price we pay for what we are.

*********

sentire by snowdarkred on Archive of Our Own

Words: 1027

Chapters: 1/1

Part 2 of the dig your teeth in and tear until you taste (peter/stiles oneshots) series

Summary:

[to feel]

Stiles hears the whisper of death before it strikes.

**********

Author:

snowdarkred

This author writes some really intense, interesting stories about Peter and Stiles. Not as long as some fics are, but they're really good adaptions of Steter with a lot of feeling.

**********

The Striking Complication by aurevell on Archive of Our Own

Words: 27235

Chapters: 4/15

Summary:

The smile slips off Stiles’s face. “Hey, um. Why am I here?” he asks, voice unsteady. “I’m—I have this weird feeling like I shouldn’t leave you. I’ve felt all day like...” He can’t finish the thought.

Peter looks as surprised as Stiles feels. A strange expression passes over his face, there and gone before Stiles can decipher it.

Stiles snaps awake each morning with the sense that he’s missing something. Weirder still, he can’t wrap his head around his sudden, inexplicable trust in Peter Hale, who seems to know way more than he’s letting on. Nor can he guess why a half-remembered nightmare seems to haunt his every move.

Rinse and repeat. Because time loops suck, apparently.

*******

Author: aurevell

This author has 11 Teen Wolf fics under their belt. 5 Sterek and 6 Steter. Happy rummaging!

**********

the teeth right down to the blood by sazzafraz on Archive of Our Own

Words: 2133

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

‘We’re pretty fucked right now.’ Scott says. Stiles doesn’t speak but there’s something singing in his bones that says Scott got the message anyway. (In which both are bit and things are gruesome.)

This has a sprinkling of Scott/Stiles, Scott/Stiles/Peter, and Scott/Allison as well as Steter, but it's worth the read, a good story with an interesting concept.

*********

Author: sazzafraz

This author doesn't have that many Steter stories, although they do have a few. Although they do have some pretty lengthy Teen Wolf fics about other characters of the show.

***********

Everything goes (wow) by midmorning_bomb on Archive of Our Own

Words: 8215

Chapters: 5/5

Part 1 of the Aranea & Babewolf series

Summary:

It was supposed to go like this:

1. Peter summons demon to the circle.

2. Demon remains in said circle until Peter outlines their contract.

3. Demon agrees to elegantly crafted contract, becoming loyally bound to Peter and Peter alone.

Instead, the creature steps casually out of the circle, tosses its things onto the leather sofa, and starts immediately meddling in Peter’s immaculate space, touching all of Peter’s very expensive things.

*********

It's only by midmorning_bomb on Archive of Our Own

Words: 2905

Chapters: 3/5

Part 2 of the Aranea & Babewolf series

Summary:

“Darling, please don’t pout.”

“You’re pouting.” Stiles pouts, from the upper corner of the library, everything from his hip bones down an angry mass of hissing fangs and venomous chelicerae. “Why would we ever go back to that garbage town? Everyone there is the worst, the only good thing is the very rad and awesome curse I laid.”

*********

You are a memory by midmorning_bomb on Archive of Our Own

Words: 900

Chapters: 1/1

Part 2 of the Little glimpse series

Summary:

If he has to bleed to breathe warmth back into Peter’s icy body, he will.

Because Peter’s done the same for him.

********

Author: midmorning_bomb

This author has 16 Steter fics. A little unfriendly to some of the other characters, but it's only kind of obvious because it's not subtle about it, and not exactly underserved. Has some really interesting ideas as well as some kind, well developed Steter. Definitely have a read through.

***********

[forestwater87]

Okay, for all of you who don't feel like watching Miles RP as David

Here are some of my favorite quotes. Context may be added if I feel like it. Reactions are my goblin brain screaming. All of these came from a discord so if they don't make sense . . . see goblin brain comment.

(That link should start directly at the point where he becomes David; if it doesn't, skip to 1:40:33)

In roughly chronological order:

David: "Teachers are sort of like camp counselors during the rest of the year."

The thing is David is absolutely up his own ass enough to think this.

David: "Trail mix is expensive!"

^ said to show he understands why not everyone can donate to the charity for teachers. Very adorable, am crying.

David's "ooooh" seeing one dude was extremely non-heterosexual. Fucking bicon. Him losing his mind that one of the arenas is called "Survey camp"

David: "A person's hitting me -- I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry this is just pretend!"

This is just canonically how David plays video games. Either this or he's unwilling to commit violence at all, but I'll defer to Miles.

David: "That's very goat of you!"

Spencer: "Is David popular amongst his campers?"

David: "I like to think so! There's only 3 staff members, so I'm definitely in everyone's top 3."

"That also means you're in the bottom 3."

David: "Well, I choose not to think of it that way."

(I have to keep adding reacts so you can tell when one quote ends and another begins. Judge not lest ye be judged)

I think the other person in the stream is named Spencer. Friend of Miles. I know literally nothing else about him and am not even confident on those facts.

Every time he says something so non-David in his David voice I die: "I have a lot of grenades!"

David: "Oh my goodness, would you look at this beautiful scenery! Can we hike that mountain?"

This is so goddamn cute. I am dying. Miles looked at his fans and said "they will eat tonight" and I am so relieved.

David: "Not to be a couple of Greedy Garys, but I say we get this [care package] and then I'll drop another one!"

The fact that Miles is grinning like a lunatic the entire time is very good. (Also if this is formatted badly then I'm sorry but not all that sorry. I'm doing my best and David would be proud of me.)

David: "Didja getim? Didja getim? didja getim? How 'bout now?"

Spencer: "I didn't get 'em."

David: "Well, you tried your best and that's all that matters."

He calls healing "a little health kiss." I'm not sure why but it's very important to me.

David: [while jumping to murder someone] "Hi! Scuse me!"

(i just need something to separate the quotes okay)

David: "Well you know what gang, we did our best. You don't always win the 3-legged race. You did a wonderful job!"

Then there's a bit where they talk about Spencer's time at summer camp:

David: "ooooh hand-holding's pretty serious!"

David is too pure.

David: [dreamily] "Did you fall in love, Spencer? A summer love?" [puts hands up to his face]

Then there's the fact that David/Miles gets to pick where they play each round, and he keeps insisting on going to the one called "Survey Camp" every single time because it has the word "camp" in it.

David: "Now, I don't like to disagree, but . . . I was thinking we could go . . . to Survey Camp!"

Spencer reminds him that technically since David's the one with the power to choose, his opinion is the only one that matters:

David: "Everyone's opinion matters. And my opinion is we're going to camp."

David just steamrolling over Spencer's interests is very good. There are these little selfish nuggets sprinkled in among the wholesomeness that really capture the full David experience.

David: "Well, he's climbing up . . . he's coming my direction . . . oh, he looks scary . . ."

Spencer: "Is he coming towards me?"

David: "Oooh, I don't know. I'm dead!"

The positivity is relentless. I think Miles said on twitter afterwards that this whole thing was exhausting and I can see why. Being David is no picnic . . .

David: "I have a question: do we have to shoot each other in this game?"

And then a few seconds later:

David: "I'm just wondering if maybe there's a way we can, you know, help others. Talk through our issues."

And a few seconds after that:

David: "I was asking if they wanted to be friends in the game!"

I believe that moved killed him, too. Precious.

Also we're interrupting the real Miles!David content to share something my friend suggested to me while I was watching this and giving her quotes; she said that maybe David just calls everything camp to make life more fun, and then sent me this imaginary exchange that actually killed me all the way to death:

David: Gwen Santos would you go to marriage camp with me

Gwen: I'm going to have to change this story when I tell everyone

It made me laugh quite a bit.

Anyway, back to the video!

Spencer: "How do you sign up for [Camp Campbell]?"

David: "Well, um, you can fax, uh, an application to CameronCCampbell@hotmail.realwebsite.noreallyrealwebsite.com. And . . . you can know that myself and Gwen and Quartermaster and sometimes Mr. Campbell will do our best to make sure they get what they need! Which more than anything is love and support. And friendship."

Spencer: "How many dollars does this camp cost?"

David: "You know . . . it is, um . . ."

And then the conversation switches subjects and David breathes a sigh of relief.

Very shortly after this he changed his character from a woman (she was wearing a yellow shirt, which he liked because the campers wear yellow shirts) to "a Forward Scout with a positive attitude!"

"I like his style."

Spencer: "Does everybody abuse David verbally?"

David: "You know, sometimes people have harsh words. Mostly Max, and Neil, and Gwen, and Quartermaster, and Nurf."

Spencer: "Did you just list almost everyone?"

David: "Mmm . . . I'd say maybe a third."

Poor David. Somebody please protect him.

Spencer: "Yeah, I think people abuse David. I get that vibe. Or at least, I feel it in my heart. Like I wanna put ants in your bunk or something."

David: "Well, I think that says more about maybe some of the hurt you're carrying with you. And sometimes when people don't know how to process that, they act out. Do you want some trail mix?"

David just said his favorite part of trail mix is the raisins which is so cute. "They have a little bit of salt on them, which isn't typical for a raisin."

And he keeps telling chatters to watch their language.

David: "Who is my favorite camper? Aww, you know I couldn't pick a favorite! . . . But I know who has the most potential, even if he doesn't want to admit it."

I KNEW IT!!!!!

I've been saying for years that David doesn't have a favorite and gravitates towards the ones he thinks need him the most AND I FINALLY GOT ONE RIGHT!

David: "Well you know, Gwen swears and that's okay."

shipping intensifies

David: [gasp] "The moss is growing on the north side of the rock!"

Every time he nerds out about weird shit in the game I gain 3 seconds to my life.

Spencer: "Did you get teabagged?"

David: "What's that?"

Spencer: "It's where somebody places their most intimate bits on you for . . . friendship."

David: [softly] "Oh, I don't know about that."

Also David confirms that the whole show has been a single summer, so please see the "vindication" gif above.

David: "I know a lot of fun camp songs."

Spencer: "Sing 3."

David: [starts singing] "Bum-bum-bumblebee, bumblebee tuna, I love bumblebee, bumblebee tuna . . ."

Spencer: "Okay, please stop. I immediately regret this decision."

David: "Max said the same thing! One of my campers. And, uh, and my co-counselor, Gwen."

He's literally made of sunshine. I would die for this fictional man.

Spencer: "Are people at camp against their will? I feel like they are."

David: "No! . . . They don't always like it immediately, but it grows on them."

Spencer: "It sounds like they're there against their will."

David: "Well I just think that's a negative way of looking at it."

FWIW Spencer makes an excellent foil to David. Not as aggressive as Max or as dour as Gwen, but he brings a very . . . like, straight-man energy to the conversation. Like how a normal person would react to David IRL. I'd enjoy seeing these two interact more.

Spencer: "It's like your overpositivity is wanting me to balance it out with negativity."

David: "You know, I feel like that dynamic's pretty popular with me."

eeeeeeee <3

And the last one that I personally found noteworthy:

David: "One day we'll be able to afford safety equipment. Until then, we'll just have to deal with Quartermaster's Ropes Course. And a lot of pillows."

There's point near the last 20 minutes where either it got kinda boring or I just got too tired to keep track. But if there are any quotes you think I missed, please share them! This was a really lovely bit of content to feed our starving maw, and I appreciate Miles very very very much for taking one for the team.

[spookysmujer]

Maraschino pt.2, O. Diaz

Summary: After the rejection from Oscar, things seems to take you on a roller coaster ride. 

warnings: angst, f e e l s, theTEAbeenSPILLED ☕️ daddy issues

word count: 3.5K

a/n: Here is the highly requested part 2 of Maraschino! I had fun writing this though if it is trash it’s because I wanted to hurry and get it out for y’all since I been getting msgs. heh. But Ray? Whew chile, the ghetto! Part 3? Please enjoy and don’t forget: follow the blog, heart/comment/reblog the content as well as turn on the notifs! (Y/S/N: your sister’s name)

(gif belongs to @thesewickedhands​ ✨)

 “Have a wonderful day!”

God, why is the person yelling? You smile weakly and squeeze your eyes nearly shut as the sun is blazing down on you while you say your thanks and exit the uber. The throbbing of your head and the loud lawnmower from one of your neighbors has you internally cursing.

How did you end up like this? Granted this was the plan last night to go out and have a good time, you certainly did not expect to be doing such a thing. You never let yourself get to this point before. But you also never got denied like you did with Spooky last night. A shiver goes through your body as you think of him. You won’t let him infiltrate your mind no more.

“Y/N!” Your sister’s voice sounds frantically as you round the corner of the house.

Well there goes your plan to sneak in through your window to pretend you were in your room all along. She wraps your arms around you, gluing herself to your body causing you to stumble back a bit. “You are a dead woman walking!” She whispers to you as you arch an eyebrow at her. 

As confused as you were, José appears from around the corner taking long strides towards you. His face sports no emotion of missing you but a lot of anger. It causes you to automatically back up the closer his approaches you. Your sister has since removed herself from you as your brother is now in your face.

You blink as you peer up at him, “Where the fuck have you been, hermana? You know how much shit you are in, hm? I get a call from Y/S/N saying you aren’t home. I assure her you would be and when she calls me at 6 in the morning telling me that you still aren’t in? You left a note?”

“José! Calmate, I went out with a friend. And I spent the night. What’s the big deal about that?” You briefly explain yourself. He laughs for a moment before grabbing you by your upper arm and pulling you towards your sister. Now it’s her turn to start backing up, “Ven aqui, her! That’s the big deal. When I ask you to be the sister you need to be, I don’t mean when you feel like it. You know the Santos have been getting into heavy shit lately. I need you here when I’m not!” 

The tension is thick as you pull your arm from his hold and push him, “But when you wanna go and do whatever it’s okay? When you wanna hitch a ride with Spooky to Sin City with dirty ass hynas last week, it’s all good. Business trip, huh? Don’t come for me when you are far from perfect!” 

The two of you are both very stubborn with your brother usually being calm and collected while you’re more expressive with your feelings. Family is important to him especially considering it’s just the three of you. Jose scoffs as you stomp away from him and your now crying sister. 

Oscar suddenly appears in front of you as round the corner and collides with his body. He reaches out to grasp you before you can stumble back, the feelings hitting you all at once, “What are you doing here?” You swallow thickly.

He licks his bottom lip as his eyes rake over your body. Still in your dress from last night, hair unruly and make-up smudged. Anyone can spot a ‘walk of shame’ when they see one. He laughs internally thinking of how you wasted no time after last night’s rejection.

“I offered to drive him when little hermanita called up again worried you weren’t home yet. Seems we know why now.” A small grin painted across his lips, you squint your eyebrows at his words as you hear your brother approaching the two of you. You step back before Spooky migrates his eyes to behind you, “We got business, everything good here?”

José nods and steps beside you, “Don’t be leaving.”

The two guys leave as you stand there a bit dumbfounded. Y/S/N appears next to you and grabs your hand. She apologizes for you getting into trouble with José. You want to yell at her for starting unnecessary drama. But she explains she didn’t want your brother to potentially find out about your little sneaky link with Spooky.

“Well, he and I ended that shit so nothing to worry about. I went out and got wasted. I am done with these guys. No más!” Though even sounding like fake news to yourself, you go and wash off last night’s memories. 

As the day had gone by, you skimmed through your daily journal of all the entries you wrote about Oscar ‘Spooky’ Diaz, ripping them out. All 6 pages. You roll your eyes at your thoughts about him, some sappy and some nasty. How did you believe a man who runs a street gang, that is as mean mugging as Oscar the Grouch from Sesame Street, would be into you the way you are him?

It didn’t matter the answer now. Good riddance of him! That’s when the sound of your window opening pulls you from the wandering thoughts. You stand up quickly, reaching for a bat that’s besides your bed. “Get the fuck out!”

“Calmate! It’s me, Oscar.”

You clutch your chest, doubling over to catch your breath. “What is wrong with you? Ever think of flying a pebble at the window or calling first?” You say as he climbs in, adjusting his flannel before closing the window then your room door. You watch him as he starts to look around your room. Though there’s a part of you that wants him out, you haven’t made any advances to get him out.

He sits on your bed and finally looks at you, “Abajo.”

Uncompliant, you cross your arms and shift your weight to make it known you are fine standing there. He smirks and looks away before locking eyes with you. “You don’t think I like you too? You think I fucked with you for this long cause it was just convenient? Girls everywhere around my place but I was only fucking you. Why do you think that?”

“Is this supposed to be your sweet confession that makes me go all heart eyes? You're gonna apologize and I’m supposed to forgive you and then we give us a try and realize all our worries were nothing but fear that our anxiety instilled in our heads? Because that’s not how it’s gonna go.” You say as he gives you a semi-disgusted look.

You chuckle softly and watch him intently.

Oscar analyzes you closely. It’s a front, no doubt he thinks. He doesn’t deny the thought that you are a thick-skinned woman. He knows you have a superior mind and a mouth to go with it but he knows there is no way that you could’ve gotten over him that quick. Though judging by your appearance earlier in the day, you definitely tried.

You laugh a little more as you step in front of him and lean over to get your vision in line with his. “You made it clear to me and now I’m making it clear. Nothing you say will convince me that you give a rat’s ass about me. If you really did? There would be no sneaky link shit. You wouldn’t have a problem with people knowing about me, or my brother knowing but it is a problem so get out.”

This ticks Ocscar off a bit. He stands which makes you straighten up as he gets in your face, stepping towards you. You are stepping back slowly as he creeps more, “You think you can handle this lifestyle? The constant threats, the territories? You can’t. When it comes to this kind of life, something like love can be the bane of your existence. So we don’t get into it. We don’t get involved because the people we fall for end up dead.”

You’re pressed with your back against the wall and your chests against each other. Oscar’s eyebrows are connected and he’s staring at your agape mouth. His breath is fanning against your lips, emotions hitting you all at once. “I-I slept with someone last night. Got it good too.”

The jealous tactic seems to fail immediately as Oscar laughs. And for some reason the look of amusement on his face seems to be familiar for a reason you can’t seem to figure out.

“Sleeping around is simple, falling for someone is something else entirely. I’m not saying that we jump into something. But at least you know now it’s not just one-sided.” He steps out of your room. You follow and watch him walk down the hall as Y/S/N stands there. She is stunned seeing Oscar nonchalantly trek through the house.

You don’t know what to say. As you look at your little sister, you sigh in defeat trying to explain this one. Instead you go back into your room and shut your door. You got what you wanted, right? But you still feel like something is missing. 

The week had slowly crept on.

A few shifts at the bodega, classes at the community college and life at home. Jose had basically converted you back to your teenage ways. Making sure you were doing your part in parenting your little sister. Friday night Y/S/N wanted to have Dwayne’s BBQ for dinner and since your social life is drier than your skin, you agree. 

The thought of a  BBQ bacon cheeseburger lifts your mood which has been dragging throughout the week. Your sister happily skips into the restaurant as you trail behind slowly, when you enter you look for her and see she chatting up with Dwayne. 

“Y/N!” José calls out and your vision unfocuses from them onto your brother and pile of Santos in a booth. They all look your way including Oscar. You exhale a deep breath through your nose as you put on a fake smile and wave before stepping up to place an order. 

 Your brother approaches you as you look past him to the booth of Santos, “Didn’t know you guys would be here.” He sets down a $20 bill on the counter when the cashier tells you the total. “Foos gotta eat too.” José starts talking to you about something but your focus falls back on Spooky again. You watch as he stands and makes his way towards you. A small panic sets in your chest but fades away as he ends up exiting the BBQ joint. 

Unknowingly to yourself, your watch as he walks to his car. He leans against it and pulls out a cigarette, no matter how hard you try to avert your eyes from him, you can’t. All week you had been doing fine. Even with the little things reminding you of him, even with the memories that have been seeped into your bed. You didn’t dwell too much on thinking of him until you see him now. 

“Talk to him.” 

It’s just like the movies where the car tires come to a screeching halt and there’s the obnoxious crashing sound. You move your eyes to your brother’s. Did he just say what you think he said? “Talk to him? Spooky, what for? Why would I need to talk to him?”

Jose chuckles, “Hermana, I had my suspicions about you two. Then he told me bout it, he acts like it doesn’t bother him much but it does so go talk to him. Yeah, I’m not so thrilled that he’s messing around with my baby sister. I know how he is but I know he wouldn’t do anything to intentionally hurt you so I’m cool with it. So go talk to him, figure that shit out because I’m getting over you moping around the house.”

You push him away as you look back to the red impala.  After a moment of contemplating it, you decide to head out and approach Oscar, he had his eyes on you since he settled by his car. You lean on it besides him and cross your arms, “You told my brother?”

He smirks and shrugs his shoulders. You try your best to keep the smug look off your face. He holds out the cigarette, you take it and inhale. Coughing a bit as the smoke burns your throat a little. You hand it back and sigh, turning to look at him.

“I like you, you like me. I’m not saying we jump into something… but why not?” You question as he exhales some smoke, you lock your eyes into his, “You ain’t cut for this lifestyle, you would be a liability. Plus your brother in my line of work? That makes him vulnerable as well. It woul--”

You groan loudly which quiets him mid-rant, “Drugs, alcohol and money do all the same things to him too. You see how he is when he gets wasted. There are so many things that make you all vulnerable. If he can make it work with the hyna he’s with, then you can make it work with me. Plus I know this lifestyle more than you think. I know when and where to be and not to be. I know who to know and who not to know. I know things! So don’t act all big bad Spooky to me.”

Now standing directly in front of him and he’s peering down at you. He dips his face lowers and looks at your lips as you look at his. In no time your lips are connected. Oscar slides his hands over your waist, gripping it and pushing you flush against him. You bring your hands to cup his face, letting your tongue slip into his mouth. A full on make-out session breaks out.

As if you didn’t dream of something like this happening you smile into the kiss, pulling away, “You get into this with me, it’s not gonna be glitter and gold. This shit is tough, I can’t be worrying about the things I already do plus you.” You nod and kiss him again, wringing your arms around his neck, he hugs you and feels calm for the first time in a while.

So you enjoy the night more than you thought you would be. With your siblings and the Santos at Dwayne’s. After a night of chatting, Oscar asks you to come back to his place. And well since it isn’t your first rodeo, you agree and send Y/S/N home with José. 

You don’t keep your hands off him while heading back to his place, you are pressed against him and kissing his neck, he is loving every moment of it. The both of you get out to head into the house but the mood is killed when you walk in to find Cesar and his friends on the couch who get frightened due to the scary movie playing on the TV.

Oscar cursing under his breath, “Can’t you watch movies at some else’s house?” You elbow him as he rolls his eyes. But Cesar didn’t want to start anything with his older brother so he asks Jamal if they can continue watching at his house. Soon after the house is empty and quiet again. The two of you settle on the couch, you straddling him and pulling your top off.

“Yo! There’s someone posted up outside!” Cesar suddenly bursts through the door which causes Oscar to push you off him and reach for his gun. He tells the younger Diaz, his friends and you to stay put as he checks out the fool that runs up on the Santo trap house. You scramble to put your shirt back on and curse when Cesar trails after his brother. You follow in pursuit, trying to tell Cesar that Oscar said to stay inside. “Who is that?” 

“Ray?” You say out loud though you thought you were just thinking it.

Oscar turns to you when you say the name of none other than his estranged father. You look to both Ray and Oscar, looking at the two men and making the connection. You feel the color get sucked out of your face, oh fuck.

“You know him, who is he?” Cesar asks you and he looks at Oscar. The Santo leader has his eyes on you and is still confused as to how the hell you know his father. “He’s our father.” Oscar says, still looking at you.

The confirmation makes you want to be obliterated right in your very spot. This can’t be happening! Is it? You try to speak but nothing comes out of your mouth. You finally look to Ray who has a small smirk on his face and that’s why that look Oscar had on his face that day seemed so familiar. You saw it that night you went out of town to have a good time. 

“Hola de nuevo, pequeña coyote.” Ray says looking at you. 

You grimace as Oscar connects the dots himself. The amount of heat that settles into your face along with the gasps from Cesar’s friends don’t make it any easier to bear.

“Wait Oscar, wait!” He is stepping towards his father, ready to charge. “I didn’t know he was your dad! Listen to me, please!” You step forward quickly and pull his arm back, he yanks it out of your grasp quickly as you plead for him to listen to you.

Oscar begins to snap at you, “Him? This is who you slept with and you want me to listen to explain? Huh?!” The anger booms in his voice as he is mere inches from your face. Cesar appears next to you trying to get between the two of you. You didn’t think Oscar could ever get so mad. And you have seen the Santo leader in moments of rage before. 

“Mijo, listen..” 

Ray’s voice sounds from behind Oscar now. He turns and wastes no time in welcoming him with a right hook. His father stumbles back as you gasp along with the sounds from the teens. “Oscar!”

You take the initiative to stand between the two of them, holding out a hand against Oscar’s chest as he is heaving and exuding anger. Ray is mending to his jaw as he stands up. You notice the lights of the neighbor had turned on and people were beginning to pile outside of their homes to see all the commotion.

“Oscar just stop and listen to me for one fucking second! No, I did not sleep with Ray. We did get together that night, yes but we didn’t do anything that involves other body parts. I started going off about you with him, I vented and we spent the night drinking. I got too wasted and he offered to let me spend the night in his motel room. Nothing happened!” You release in one breath. 

Everyone looks at you, unable to make sense of the situation. 

“That’s why I came, when she mentioned things about you, I had to come see for myself if what niña said is true. That you’re running the Santos.” The two men stare at each other as you stand in the middle. Your heart is racing. 

Oscar doesn’t say anything as he looks back and forth between his father and you. When you step towards him and reach out to grab his hand, he raises his hand up in defense and steps back. You can see the glint of hurt in his eyes as he backs away from you. Your eyes pleading for him to try to understand everything.

You trail behind a fuming Oscar into his house, you are nearly jogging when you catch up with him. But he steps into his room and slams the door in your face. You step back and sigh. “Please talk to me…Oscar. Nothing happened, you have to believe me.” 

He doesn’t respond as you rest your head on his door. You hold your hands on the door silently cursing yourself. What could you say that made the situation sound better? How could you make it look like it really was nothing even with Ray right there?

A few moments have passed by when the door opens, a still very upset Oscar stands there as he flies forwards a bunch of crumbled paper at you. You watch as the papers fall to your feet and he slams the door in your face again. No context of nothing. 

When you pick up the papers, it’s drawings of you. Portraits sketched out from a ballpoint pen. Some dated as far back as a month ago to as recent as a few days ago. Oscar drew you. He did so multiple times and in such craft it takes your breath away. 

You feel the tears begin to well in your eyes. The pain that you have caused him. How do you fix this?

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[darthwheezely]

sand and stone - g.w. - 1

summary: marine biologist y/n has made a major discovery - george, prince of the north reef and heir to the throne of oceanic royals. but when sinister forces threaten his very life - and the life of his family - will they be able to make it out of this alive?

pairing: merman!george weasley x marine biologist!reader

warnings: cussing, light angst (in this chapter!) possible sex in future chapters (if so: I’ll add nsfw warnings to each chapter when that occurs!), cruelty

a/n: it’s taken ages for me to update my series’ and for that i am so sorry :,) i just needed to bust out smaller projects like one shots to bring my head space back and i PROMISE i walk chapter 5 will be next as i’ve been actively tackling it for a HOT second now, it just has some intense content to write so it’s been hard for me to tackle yk?

Fred replayed the scene over and over, he knew there was nothing that could bring George back, nor heal his guilt in the process. Fred was older, he should’ve been wiser by default, he was always the protector and for the first time in his life he had chosen his own mischief over George.

“Fred!”

“George!”

And in his mind the outcome would always be the same:

George was gone.

And it was his fault.

Palace life was more stifling than it ever was, with Fred next in line as coronation as the next High Prince with a few more titles after his elder brother Percy, a marital match was next, and for some odd reason (Fred noted) that was taking a higher value than searching for his own brother.

And that didn’t really make sense to him.

Fred had asked every living merperson in the court if they had seen the ship, what it looked like, where it was going, anything to conclude that information was out there. But alas, none of them knew anything important.

King Arthur, on the other hand, didn’t seem to want to help at all.

So here was Fred, now pushing his way through the doors of the main throne room, watching with vile contempt as his father and his oldest brother Bill chatted about something making them laugh so hard they were wheezing.

“Son! How lovely a surprise,” Arthur had looked bemusedly at his fourth and bullheaded son.

“Don’t bore me with your bullshit, Father, I know nothing I have to say will probably mean anything to you anyways,” Fred snapped, prompting Bill to rise from his seat.

“Fred, what is going on with you as of late? What makes you think you can address our father, the King mind you, like this-“

“Because with all due respect, big brother” he shifted his eyes from Bill back to their father, who was looking coldly back at him with less than no remorse, “I’ve come to ask about the search party for George.”

“Then, ask, son, you know your brother and I can’t do your little tease all day,” Arthur coughed, waving his aide to bring him his handkerchief.

“How has the party been? Has anyone found anything new since the discovery that it was a boat that took him?” Fred was pacing, tapping his chin, a mannerism he always did when he was in thought.

Arthur sighed in frustration, “we would have told you if there was any other news, now get dressed for your courtship ball tonight-“

“No.” Fred said simply.

“N-no?”

“Yes, no, as in no, I will not be attending the courtship ball tonight.” He crossed his arms and looked from Bill back to his now flabbergasted father. “Is there a problem?”

It was now Bill who answered an exasperated, “yes, there’s a problem, all the eligible women for currents on end will be in attendance and you need a wife before the kelp harvest, you know this-“

“Ah, forgive me, because a wife and a mindless piece of grass is more important than my own goddamn brother,” Fred spat, “my mistake, your Majesty.”

Arthur rose from his seat and started in towards Fred. “Frederick, Prince of the North Reef, you’ve got a lot of nerve coming in here and-“

“Demanding justice for your own child?”

The room was silent for a moment, Fred looking mightily angry but also pleased in the fact that yes, he had gotten his father right where he wanted him.

“Son. I’ll strike you a deal,” he said quietly. Fred scoffed and rolled his eyes, heading towards the exit.

“Father, I know the extent of your deals and as such, I’m not going to participate in your little games,” he called from behind.

“You don’t want to find George yourself?”

Fred stopped dead in his tracks.

“Freddie...a father knows his sons better than they expect...and George is your other half and...” he swallowed, “this search isn’t going as well as it should and we all need answers,” he finished softly. Fred turned around and tears pricked at his eyes.

“If you choose to find your brother on land and you do so in one week’s time,” he closed his eyes and inhaled, “you’ll never need marry-“

“Father-!” Bill sputtered.

“-and never need settle in any of the Reef palaces I’ve created. Son, you’ll be-“

“I’ll be free of royal life if I so choose” he rubbed his jaw, taking a moment to think.

“You’re the best brother I’ve ever had, Freddie!”

“And you’re my best friend, Georgie!”

“And we’ll never be apart-“

“Not as long as we live-“

“-forever,” Fred said to himself softly, before nodding.

“If I’m not back in a week - send the search. You don’t want two dead sons on your hands,” he paced back to the door, pushing both sides open with both hands.

“...and I’ve got answers to find.”

As soon as Fred left the room, Arthur chuckled deeply.

“Bill?”

“Yes, father?”

“Keep an eye on him. We don’t need him getting out and stirring up any more trouble.” He rose from his throne, eyes still staring at the door.

“My son must learn to be quiet.”

—

George was back in the water, he knew that much. His head lolled back and forth as he slowly regained composure, seeing his tail as shiny and new as ever, but somehow unable to move it. He felt exhausted, like he’d swam to the South Reef and back like he used to do with-

“Fred...” he murmured, not really to anyone, just calling out to him somewhere. He realizes after a couple minutes that he was slowly sinking, his eyes fluttering open and shut again slowly in time before he hit the ground.

It was sand. He was in water, he knew that much, immediately jolting up swimming forward until-

“Neptune, what the fuck is this?” He rubbed his head, hitting something unbeknownst to him. He slapped and hit at the surface in front of him, making a sound of echo and reverb as he squinted his eyes and saw:

This was not home.

“Hey - hey let me out!” He shouted, banging on the clear surface, clearly seeing -

“Humans...” he mumbled, the laden horror setting in, backing up in shock and swimming for dear life before he hit the other side of this surface, repeating the same banging, desperate to be freed.

“Let me out! Let me go, I need to find my brother, please!” He cried out, swimming every way possible way, hitting the hard and translucent surface every time.

“What’s he doing?” A voice said, a younger woman for sure.

“He’s trying to break free, but unfortunately for him: that’s plexiglass.” A distinctly deeper and more even voice replied.

“He - he wants out.”

That voice. George stopped and turned around, he’d heard that voice before.

“I shouldn’t have brought him back, Dr. Lockhart-“

“No-“

“Yes, and - and now we’ve stranded him here, I mean, we don’t even know how long he’ll survive under isolation-“

“That’s enough, Miss Y/L/N!” The man shouted, stilling the voices in the laboratory. He cleared his throat and pushed up his glasses before smiling tightly at the girl.

“You forget yourself, Miss Y/L/N,” he said softly. “You may be a fantastic marine student, but you are still just that: a student. And until you reach a higher potential,” George watched with rapt eyes as the man made his way to her pressing a button.

“That is all you will be. A very. Smart. Student.” He clipped, turning a gauge.

George heard a very loud sound, looking up and seeing a large square thing coming down to the top of the encasement he was in. He scrambled to swim up, attempting to push it up and off, but it was too heavy and eventually he realized -

“I’m trapped,” he said hollowly, looking out at the people in the lab, now looking highly uncomfortable and exiting the room.

“Please - please I need to get back home,” he pleaded. “No, no, please” he banged harder on the plexiglass, “let me out! Please, let me out, I’m begging you!”

He saw her then, her face of...sadness. And remorse. And maybe something else.

“Please,” he whispered at her, before she swallowed, keeping her eyes to the floor and exiting the laboratory.

George, Prince of the North Reef was alone.

•••

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[emitheduck]

So. We're Soulmates? (Bucky x Reader)

A/N: my first soulmate AU, and I figured it was finally time, and bucky deserved one lol. no spoilers whatsoever

Soulmate AU where you have your soulmate’s birthday tattooed on your arm ---

March 10th, 1917.

(Y/n) had always thought, there was no possible way that the universe had ever, ever gotten her soulmate’s birthday right. When everyone was celebrating that their soulmate was around the same age as them, she got to look down in horror as she could practically see her soulmate’s life fly by. There was legitimately no possible way that her soulmate would even still be alive.

The rules of the soulmate were strange, and no one ever understood them or questioned them. It was found out sometime in the 80s that the dates on peoples forearms weren’t random--but the birthday of their soulmate. Because the universe was a cosmic nightmare, when someone’s soulmate died, the numbers went with them.

That’s what made this so strange.

Either (Y/n)’s soulmate was hanging onto life support, or the universe had fucked up and decided it was going to trick her into thinking she could find happiness like everyone else.

She had these feelings up until she got the faithful call one day, that she had landed the job with SHIELD and found out that she would be working in the helicarrier during the attack on New York. And that’s how she met Steve Rogers.

“You know, it’s kind of funny.” Steve sighed with a chuckle, shaking his head as he followed (Y/n) who was leading him to where he would be staying.

“What is?” She asked as she typed in the access code for one of the doors as they walked.

“The number on your arm. That’s my friend’s birthday.” Steve was smirking as he walked into his room. “I mean, it was his birthday.”

(Y/n) looked down at the date on her arm and sighed, her hand instinctively covering the date. “You sure he’s dead? Not some hundred-year-old veteran in a nursing home that you haven’t checked in on or something?” She was trying her best to not sound horrible for joking about his friend's death, but he seemed almost amused by her banter.

“Last I checked, he’s dead. I watched him fall off the train and everything.” He told her as he sat down on the edge of his bed. “His name was Bucky.” He told her as she turned around to leave, watching her stop for a moment to listen before she left.

Steve’s words always lingered in the back of her mind ever since that day on the helicarrier. She had seen the Bucky memorial spot in the museum, and the day she found out that he was alive, she would never forget (mostly because when it happened, she had dropped the bottle of wine she was holding on the floor and spent hours picking up tiny shards of glass).

The year was now 2023. Five years after the blip, and (Y/n) now fully retired from SHIELD. She left on good terms, but the years of working were just exhausting. Especially now that she came back after vanishing for five years and had to rebuild her life all over again. At least they were respectful, and were happy to give her the pay that she had missed out on.

It was hard enough having to deal with knowing all your close friends sacrificed themselves for the whole world, and not being able to do anything about it. That was the reason that kept her up most nights. The guilt of feeling like she could have done something, but never got the chance to, was the hardest feeling.

That’s what led (Y/n) to walking aimlessly around the grocery store at almost 2am. When she couldn’t sleep, sometimes the best thing to do was walk around pushing the cart and praying that the LED lights would calm her down enough to go home and face the empty apartment.

What she didn’t expect was turning the corner of the frozen section and crashing her cart into someone elses. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry I wasn’t paying attention.” (Y/n) apologize as she looked at the man in front of her. “I should have been looking. I guess I’m just tired.”

“I’m probably just tired too.” He chuckled, pulling his cart away from hers. Both the carts were empty anway. “You come here to walk around at night too?”

“How could you tell?” (Y/n) laughed, running a hand through her hair as she looked him over. He looked familiar, and knowing her luck he was some assassin that was stalking her, and came here to finish the job.

He motioned to their empty carts with a bob of his head. “Something about just pushing the carts around and listening to the crappy music makes me feel better too.” He smirked as he never broke eye contact. “Also, people normally buy food when they’re shopping.”

(Y/n) sighed, nodding. “You caught me. I’m just here to wander.”

“It’s okay. I am too. Sometimes staring at the TV isn’t enough.” He mumbled, shaking his head as he broke eye contact to look where his hands were gripping the handle of the cart. “Sorry, I’m just rambling I guess.”

“No, I get it.” She laughed it off, knowing it was late and sometimes people just kept talking when they were tired. “My names (Y/n).” She smiled, holding out her hand for him to shake.

He seemed to hesitate, but reached out and shook her hand. “My name’s Bucky.”

She could feel her mouth go dry. “Bucky?” There was just no, possible way that this was the man who has been in the back of her mind for years on end.

“I’m guessing you know who I am.” He muttered, already preparing himself to turn around and forget this interaction never happened. “Sorry, I should go.”

“Wait! No, I didn’t mean it like that.” (Y/n) exclaimed as she held her hands out to stop him from leaving. “I just have heard so much about you--not the way you think, it sounds so weird. I talked to Steve about you once, way back before the battle of New York.”

She peaked his interest at the mention of Steve. “You knew Steve?”

(Y/n) nodded. “He told me all about you. Look, I even have your birthday on my arm.” She told him, lifting up her sleeve to show him the date on her arm, watching his eyes go wide out of shock. “Steve liked to always tease me that I had your birthday, and I always told him that I probably had some old man, sitting in some hospital bed, decaying before our eyes. Wow, I am rambling, I am so sorry. I should leave.” She was bright red as she decided to just leave her cart where it was and accept the humiliation and leave.

“No, you don’t have to go.” Bucky told her, gently grabbing her arm to stop her from leaving. “I guess now that you showed me yours, I’ll show you mine.” He grinned as he let go of her arm, using his left hand to pull up his long sleeve. There on his arm, in bold black numbers was (Y/n)’s birthday clear as day.

“Do you maybe want to go get coffee at that 24 hour place across the street? We might have a bit we need to talk about.” She was dumbfounded. Steve would always tease and joke, telling her that Bucky was her soulmate just because it was the same birthday on her arm. But due to the fact that he was presumed dead for so long, (Y/n) never thought anything of it.

“Are you going to come inside? I’ve been holding the door open for almost a minute.” Bucky asked, laughing a little uncomfortably as he watched the woman just stand at the door of the diner. She didn’t even remember the walk to get there.

(Y/n) blinked, rubbing her eyes as she nodded and walked inside. The sign said seat yourself, and she found a nice seat by the window for the two of them. “Sorry. I guess I’m just a little speechless.”

He chuckled as he shifted in the booth. “I’ll be honest. Me too.”

“So. We’re soulmates.” She shrugged, feeling uncertain of herself. Finding her soulmate was never the first thing on her mind, because she never actually thought that she would find him. Sure, the universe also had a way of making the two cross paths at some point, but because of the age, she never cared.

“When I used to see the date on my arm, I thought it was a joke.” He told her, mumbling that he wanted a coffee when the waiter walked over and asked what they wanted. “She wants a coffee. Two cream, one sugar.” He said as the other man nodded and walked away.

“How did you know my coffee order?” She asked with a raise of her eyebrow.

Bucky opened his mouth like he was about to speak but sighed. “I legit have no idea. My brain was working for me, and it just came out.”

(Y/n) laughed. “I mean, we’re cosmically linked so it does make sense.” The coffee was set down in front of them and she smiled as she held onto the mug. “Is this when I ask if you can tell me about yourself?”

“Where do I start?” He asked as he set his coffee down after taking a sip. “My name is James Buchanan Barnes, but I go by Bucky. James is only for when shit hits the fan I guess.”

“I think I prefer Bucky.” She smiled, watching as his cheeks turned red for a moment.

“What about you Doll? What fun thing do you have to tell me?” Bucky asked her with a smirk, making it her turn to blush.

“I worked for SHIELD, that’s where I met Steve. But then there was that time we found out that Hydra was inside of SHIELD, and technically you tried to kill me.” She pointed out, watching as he put his head down in shame. “But that’s all in the past now. I’m not that person anymore.”

He took a sip of his coffee before he spoke. “What changed?”

(Y/n) sighed, shaking her head as she held onto her coffee mug for warmth. “I was pretty close with Steve and Natasha. Tony helped me get the job at SHIELD, too. Three people that I looked up to more than anything, were gone before I ever got a chance to say goodbye.” She told him, knowing that there would be no more tears left to cry. Her tear-ducts seemed to stop working after she had cried for days straight that they were gone.

“I wasn’t very close to anyone but Steve, but I do understand how you feel.” He told her, leaning across the table to rest a hand on her shoulder. “Do you live in the city?”

“I live pretty close to Hell’s Kitchen.” She told him, watching as he nodded. “I’m guessing you live in Brooklyn?”

He looked a little surprised, but still smiled. “How could you tell?”

She smiled back, a little shy. “Some part of me just knew, but the other part of me heard Steve talk about Brooklyn all the time. He loved it there, and I guess I thought you did too.”

“It’s definitely still amazing, but a lot has changed. I’m still getting used to it all.” Bucky confessed, putting down some money for the coffee as they both finished and stood up from the table.

(Y/n) checked her phone and sighed at the time. 3:30 in the morning, and there was no way she was going to sleep now. Now, she was going to ride the train and hope that the rocking of the subway would be enough to turn her mind off for a while. “I should get going. It’s getting late, and I’m taking the train back.”

He nodded, seeming a little uneasy that she was about to leave. “Do you maybe want my number? We could meet up someday, maybe get to know eachother better?”

She grinned as she handed him her phone. “Put your number in.” She told him as they traded phones, smirking as she put in her contact. “I put my information as (Y/n)-Soulmate, just in case you seemed to forget.”

“Oh trust me, I don’t think I’ll ever forget.” Bucky chuckled as he looked at her contact. “Promise you’ll call?”

“Considering the fact I’ve known you for a few hours, and I’m already completely head-over-heels for you, I don’t think you have to worry.” (Y/n) told him, leaning up and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “Bye for now, but not bye forever.”

Bucky was grinning like an idiot, and he knew it. “I like the sound of that. I still just can’t believe I found you after all these years.”

“You better believe it, because you’re going to be seeing a lot more of me from now on.”

MASTERLIST

[slashingdisneypasta]

Human!Freddy Krueger x Fem!Reader || Oneshot

Title: What The Fuck Now, Freddy!?

Notes:

This is not inherently romantic, at all. Or sexual. Just... Freddy being a bastard, and you are caught in the crosshairs- and are forever linked with him because of it.

I've been listening to Lizzie, a lot lately- and this is inspired by 'What The Fuck Now, Lizzie!?'

Also- I'm thinking this will have a part 2. Due to the ending not being quite enough. Maybe a part for the court proceedings!

Plot: Many will know the story of that terrible day Krueger essentially snapped- killing his wife, Loretta Krueger. She saw the basement, they say, and he didn't like that. Their daughter saw the whole thing and suffered a traumatic response to seeing the sight of her mother, strangled to death, by her father- and forgot the whole thing.

But if she were to remember something, one day.

She may remember something no one knows about that day, aside from Freddy himself.

She may remember, that someone else was there.

She may remember you.

//

Alternatively- you're being blackmailed by Freddy who found out you, another supposedly Plain Jane in Loretta's 'mothers club', is cheating on your husband and calls you up to help deal with the mess he made. Because who else did he have?

Warnings: Okay lemme see, its basically a potluck of triggers. Hm. Murder, swearing, cheating (You, on your husband. Not with Freddy), getting rid of a body, a child gets traumatised (Obviously, Kathy/Maggie), Freddy himself, mention of the basement and all that entails, reader with a very questionable moral compass. Look, I think if you can watch Freddy's Dead, you're good here.

I'm just heading out the door, to go grocery shopping - or, at least, that's the story I tell my husband. When really I don't do the grocery shop until the day after tomorrow. He never notices... - when the phone rings. By very nearly tripping over my feet in my endeavour to catch it before the ringing stops, I manage pick up the phone with very little injury besides an achy, slightly twisted ankle. "Hi! Hi, sorry, I'm here. Hello?"

Pouting, I sit down at the kitchen table; Rubbing my poor ankle to sooth the pain, which would soon diminish anyway. Still- I'm sorry, ankle. I'll try to chill.

When the voice on the other end reveals who it is who's called the house, I lose all need to be pleasant. Damn. I really need to memorise this goddamn number... so I can not answer it. "Whatcha wearin'?"

"Thank god Harrison didn't answer this, you fuck." I deeply roll my eyes. Thank god Har's out. No, this is not my mister, not the man I was going to meet just now- but its bad, enough. In an entirely different way. Its stupid, blackmailing, son of a... hundred maniacs. "What do you want?"

"What a way to answer the phone, Y/N. Gee, seems like every time I we talk, I'm learning how you really aren't in the right place, are you? Cheating on your poor husband, swearing... These aren't really signs of the perfect suburban house wife, is it?" Gritting my teeth, I keep from lashing out. I've learned, if you stay real quiet, Freddy wont have anything to pull from and will get bored quick. "Why so silent, hm?"

"... " Oh, fuck me. I cant help it. "Wondering where you get off judging me on being 'suburban', actually."

"Anywhere I like, thanks."

Oh... oh. Gross?

He doesn't see the disgust tearing my face into two perfect halves right now, but my silence must be enough as he laughs. The sound is directly into the phone, and harsh on my poor eardrums. Ugh... "Oh for gods sake... What are we? Fourteen years old?? Come on- why'd you call?"

"Uhhhh... " Quickly, midway through that drawn out 'um' sound, Freddy's voice transitions, and gets a whole lot darker. Something deep in his chest dislodging, to make it so. Perhaps, his heart. "Well... you might wanna come and see for yourself."

"Uh, I don't think so. I have somewhere to be right now- "

"Oh well you don't, anymore." And its clear what he isn't saying- or else I'll tell Harrison about Carter and set your life on fire. "Tell your boy toy you're takin' a reign check for the day. I think you'll last. In fact... after you come over here, you might be out of the game for a couple a hours at least- maybe days."

Hold on, hold on Freddy what the fuck- "What!?"

"... Believe it or not, I didn't actually mean for that one."

Moron.

~

Nevertheless, no matter how just... off setting, Freddy is, I had to when he asked. I had to jump when he said so.

Because if not, then he would tear my life apart.

So here I am, about to knock on that big red door he lives behind, wondering what I'm walking into. Where's Loretta? Where's Kathy? How long will the visit be? I told Carter I'd be an hour or two late- any longer and I wont see him at all today. Which would absolutely suck.

Just after my knuckles come down on the wood the first time, a hand comes down on my shoulder and I immediately jump out of my skin... then slowly look around.

There's Freddy, a cheeky grin on his face. It does nothing to set my nerves at ease. "Ugh... Why are you out here?"

"We're going to the backyard. Lets go." Taking me by the shoulders, he marches me around the side of the house, instead of through it for some reason, and into the familiar backyard. I've been here numerous times, as Loretta likes to hold our club meetings here - Barbecue's, tea's... that sort of thing. Just to let the kids play together and so the adults can enjoy some adult conversation. Its a nice yard... but depending on what her horrid husband is about to show me, it may not be considered as such anymore... - , but I'm now starting to develop a sick feeling in my stomach.

Honestly- I don't know much about Freddy at all. Yes, I went to school with him, but that doesn't mean much when he was a freaky loner kid the whole time. I remember he killed the class hamster once- that's about the only splash he ever made in the news pool; But it definitely stuck.

Yes, Loretta cleaned up his image a fair bit since getting married, but now he's blackmailing me, and as far as I know I'm now alone with him.

Suspicious of him suddenly, I slip out of his grip with a dirty look flashed his way. Don't touch me.

He just rolls his eyes, leading me around some hedges.

And then everything stops.

Him, me, the air; The air around me, the breeze, the breath in my throat.

There lays Loretta, on the ground. If I was really really naïve, I could imagine she were sleeping... or passed out, at least, due to the way she's sprawled out. No one would lay down like that willingly.

But... her eyes are open.

For a moment I'm tempted to kneel down; Take a closer look. Find out how, myself. Is she bleeding anywhere that I cant see now? Are her lips turning blue? If I moved some short red hair out of the way- would their be marks on her neck yet?

But then I come to my senses...

And freak. The fuck. O u t.

"What, the fuck, did you do!?" I whip around, looking at Freddy now which entirely new eyes. I mean, before I sure wasn't fond- but now I'm filled with something new, looking at him. Something a lot worse, something that makes me want to run. Run, and hide, and stay there.

And all these, even though he hasn't really changed. He still wears a mischievous smirk, stony blue eyes eating up my reactions... like always. But this time its just so so much worse. "Made some dead weight- now you're gonna help me get rid of it. So!" Finally, though its been only a matter of seconds, he turns his gaze off of me and I'm glad. That gaze is far too heavy. "Ideas?"

Only for a moment am I lost for words, struggling to push anything out. "I... I'm sorry??"

His gaze returns to mine, but this time my eyes are hard as his are dark. "Help. Me. Get rid of her. Fucking. Body. Or do you want your dirty laundry aired for the whole community to hear?"

Before I can help myself, I let out a sharp laugh, only succeeding in making Freddy's scowl deeper. "Freddy- this secret's a lot bigger, then mine. Sure, I might get divorced- but you're going to prison!" Does he get that? He's g o i n g to j a i l. Crossing my arms, I try to avoid looking at my ex-friend's body. I cant. "I'm sure as hell not gonna be in there with you, for being an accomplice."

I really cant look at her... I can only focus on Freddy. And that takes a lot of energy- its taking everything in me, in fact. Everything I have. But I have to. If its him or her, there's no choice.

But... then a creepy smile spreads across his face- a vast polarity to the frustrated glower of before. It makes my blood run cold.

"Ohhhh..." He looks almost ferocious, even in his composed state. Like a monster. Like any moment a fanged, inhuman creature is going to burst out of him and I'm going to wake up, and this will have been a nightmare. A horrible nightmare. The kind where that creature haunts me for a long time, after its over. After this over.

He's going to haunt me.

"You must think this is my first time... " My heart turns to ice, mouth hanging a little open... what the fuck have I found myself a part of!? Suddenly all the children's disappearances on the news lately come to the forefront of my brain... "Sweetheart, give a man his dues. I'm a hard working kinda guy... " I watch his gaze flicker to a door - the back door? No... The basement door, - and when a filthy smirk pulls at his mouth, my heart flies up into my throat. God, it makes me feel sick. I want to be violently ill. "My first was my adoptive Dad... pretty sick, huh?"

The fact that he didn't say anything about the basement, makes my imagination go wild. I swallow it down, though.

I just need to get out of here, and never think about this again.

And to do that I need to help Freddy get rid of this goddamn body- and... probably... testify at court... As the panic starts to finally rise up in my, right up to fill my throat, I immediately take in a deep breath and slowly let it out. "Okay... " No time to freak out. Now's the time for action.

Gaze flickering to Loretta again, I try to acclimatise to the sight. I think its a lost cause, though. "How did you get rid of him? Your Dad?"

"No, that's not gonna work. He was a drunk dead beat, and I just had to tell the police some guy's he owed money to came over to the house." Freddy grins happily at the memory, but then just as quickly, scowls at his poor deceased wife's body- that certainly cant fight back. I just tack this onto the long list of reasons I hate him. "Lore's such a goddamn goody goody- we cant do the same thing. You don't think I woulda thought of that??"

"Hey." I snap, hands braced on my hips as I flash a glare his way. "This is not the time to get defensive!"

"Whatever... "

Then- suddenly, something occurs to me. Confused, I look around; A deeply horrified feeling disturbing my stomach. "Hold on... Where's your daughter?" Seeing no sign of her anywhere, I definitely start to panic again- especially when I look to Freddy and just see a pert look in his eyes as he looks back at me, a smile that strikes something horrid inside me. My eyes narrow. "You sick fuck- where the fuck is she!??"

"Under the bed."

"What the fuck does that mean!?" I exclaim, frustrated and freaking out. He did not- he did not! Killing your spouse is one thing, but the kid?? Your own kid??

I don't wait around for him to be cryptic some more, and rush right into the house to look for her. Under the bed, under the bed, under the fucking bed...? Which fucking bed!? Forcing ferocity out of my voice, I carefully call out to Kathy. Hoping to god she answers. I try to sound normal. Maybe a little bit cheerful; Excited.

But my voice wobbles.

"Kathy?? Sweetheart, its Y/N! Are you hiding? I have something for you... " ?? You have something for her, Y/N?? God... now you have to figure out some kind of treat.

You know what? Whatever. We'll figure that out later.

Lets just hope we aren't searching for a corpse. I'd definitely be sick, seeing a child... the way Loretta is...

Shaking my head and clenching my fists, I try to focus on Kathy.

I check under the bed in the guest room because it comes into view first and she isn't there, then her bedroom and she isn't there either... and get a sick feeling as soon as I enter the last bedroom. Freddy's and Loretta's.

God, I've never been in here before but its like a museum peace now. A horrible one. Like if you would walk into the Titanic... or the Borden house.

"Kathy? You in here?" Flicking on the light I kneel down on the ground, and check under the bed.

And something immediately crashes over me, as the sight of her covering her eyes down there. It isn't exactly relief, because this whole situation is still phenomenally fucked up for her, but I am selfishly glad to not have to see her body... crumpled, just like her mother.

"Hey sweetheart," My voice quivers slightly now, but I quickly swallow. No. No. Now, you must be strong Y/N. "Its just me. Your Daddy was looking for you, and couldn't find you! It got him worried!"

"I... I don't wanna see Daddy. He hurt Mommy." Kathy doesn't remove her hands from her face, and stays firmly by the wall- too far away for anyone to grab. My heart sinks.

Slowly straightening up again, I try to take that piece of information in. Turning to the doorway, I see Freddy there. he must have followed me. I didn't even notice. Slowly, and quietly ferociously, I say; "She saw?!"

He has the good sense to look embarrassed, even if it is just to make fun of me. "It was spur of the moment... " He shrugs. "I didn't have time to get a babysitter!"

What a fucking excuse. For gods sake.

I'm definitely dealing with a psycho- if that was even a question before now.

Swiftly, I look down under the bed again, because I'm afraid that if I continue to engage with him- I'll scream, and I'll lose my breath, and I'll scare Kathy even more. She's at the forefront of my mind; That's all I can think about.

But what to do with her after I get her out from under this bed, I don't know. I cant give her back to her father... but I cant hand her over to the police either because that would involve telling them about Loretta, and... Freddy will definitely kill me, for that.

This is a nightmare of a situation.

I'm just opening my mouth to say something - what, I don't know yet, - when she speaks, instead. "Is he there?"

"... Yes." I wont lie to her; That would be treating her with not nearly as much respect as she deserves.

When she takes a deep breath and rubs her eyes, as if just trying to keep herself together, my heart clenches. God... and to think I might not have picks up Freddy's call today. I would have been leaving her with this. For the first time today, I'm morbidly glad I came.

She speaks in that loud, hissy way that kids think is a whisper. "Can he... can you please make him go away?"

Immediately I straighten back up and look to Freddy again, my eyebrows raised halfway up my forehead. Like well? "Get out."

"I don't think you're in a position to make demands here, bi- "

"Do you want Kathy to live down there now!??" I snap, trying not to be scared. Not really feeling scared, actually. Just happy to have a reason to tell him to get the hell away from me.

A deep frown creases his mouth, deeply unhappy about the situation, but steps back. I only hear him step out of the way of the door, but its good enough. Quickly, I get up and close the door - fighting with myself not to slam it, - and lock it.

Then I return to the floor, and see this time Kathy has uncovered her eyes. She looks so small, smaller then she actually is, and she looks like she's shaking. Little red bows and piggy tails in her hair are messy from crawling under the bed. "He's gone, sweetheart. And I locked the door."

She just nods, so I take the silence as a chance to offer my hand to her. "Take my hand, sweetie? Come on out from under the bed. Its cold down there, and no one wants you getting sick." I need to upkeep the family friend bit, I need to sound caring and collected. I need her to trust me.

Her big eyes, not Loretta's colour or Freddy's, look nervous as hell. And she shakes her head.

Taking a deep breath, and I conjure all the sincerity as I can. And mean it. My eyes soften and I try really hard, to resent myself as someone trustworthy- which is hard, seeing as I've never really been that. I mean, I'm cheating on my husband. I told Carter today the same lie I told Harrison when i knew I was going to be late. The only person I think who knows the truth behind all my lies is Freddy. That says something about a person, that the only person who knows them is a psychopath.

But I want to, I need to, be good for this little girl. And there's no time for me turn my life around so it has to start with this. How fucked is that?

"... I promise, I'll take care of you. He wont hurt you."

After a few whole minutes, in which I stay silent because yes she's a child, but she's still thinking, she crawls over and takes my hand, letting me lead her out. Crawling into my lap as I cross my legs under her, she buries her face in my shirt- hiding. "You promise?"

Taking a deep breath, because I've really done it now, I offer my pinky for her to see if she turned her head. I know Freddy's listening to all of this through the wall, but I try not to freak out. "Pinky swear?"

"Pinky swear." She peaks out from my shirt, and curls her little finger around mine. Okay... "Y/N... I'm scared."

"Yeah... Me too, sweetie."

What am I going to do?

[kashimos-hajime]

sawdust and plastic | g.t.

summary: you learn two things from your first real fight with goro. 1) he apologizes through cooking. 2) he hates it when they argue.

WARNINGS: spoilers for the gimme danger main job, swearing, slight angst, theye just communicating pairing: goro takemura x fem!street-kid!v word count: 2.2k

a/n: written with a fem!street-kid v who used to be a corpo kid. also dont yell at me but i rearranged v's apartment so the couch goes on all 3 sides bc comfortable :^) crossposted on ao3! enjoy :) 

part of the tales of a two-bit thief series

Sitting down on the couch, you kick up your feet for the first time in what you feel like has been ages. From Jackson Plains to reconnaissance on the Arasaka warehouse, you haven’t eaten shit besides the yakitori Takemura had ordered at that booth which already felt like ages ago. It’d been good—better than the trash you’ve eaten as a kid so you don’t really get picky—but you can’t help but recall the disgust on Takemura’s face when he had taken a single bite.

“Sawdust and plastic.”

You snort, running hands over your face and tilting your head back. Stupid fucking Japanese man with an endearing sense of dry-humour and… zero tolerance for your cheeky smiles. 

Then he had to go ahead and bring up Jack.

His words, cold, callous, echo in your skull like a goddamn radio and you squeeze your eyes tight, raking your hands down your face and melting into the couch. No matter how much you wanna stop it, you can’t help hearing it over and over and over.

Grabbing the remote, you’re about to switch on a channel in hopes you catch something that cna take your mind off everything when there’s a knock on your door.

For a moment, you truly debate telling them to fuck off but then, there is a pause.

“V.”

Eyes widening, your body goes rigid at the sound of his voice.

“V, let me in before I look anymore foolish.”

In the back of your head, you tempt the idea of just leaving him out there, pretending like you’ve fallen asleep, but then you get up anyway against your better judgement. You drag your feet over the floor, picking up old takeout boxes you haven’t had time to clean up and tossing clothes into a hamper to make your apartment look more like an organized mess than the dumpster fire you know Takemura will scold you for.

When you reach the door, you let him in without a word and you note the bags he holds on, hoisting them over to your living room counter.

“What’s this?” you question wearily. “Goro, I’m not hungry.”

“I realized I must apologize for my harsh words.” Beginning to pull out the groceries, you walk over and peer inside the bag, frowning. All the stuff inside is cheap synth shit, nothing you haven’t eaten before, but you’re still confused as to what’s going on since you don’t exactly have a kitchen in your place, but then out of one of the thicker bags, Takemura pulls out a big box.

“For saying them?”

“Yes." He sets the box down before continuing with groceries. “Earlier, I told you if I had time and resources, I would cook onigiri.”

“With cod, or grilled salmon. Or umeboshi plums, because they were Saburo’s favourite,” you finish and he sends you a look that could’ve been a smile if his lips had curved more and his eyes meant it. “I remember.” Helping him with the big box, you cut it open and find a rice cooker within. Eyeing the contraption with an arched eyebrow, you can’t help but ask: “Where’d you find this stuff?”

“It was difficult. I had to lower my standards.” 

“Lowering standards,” you echo dryly, unable to help your empty smile. “Yeah. We do that a lot in grand ole NC.” He doesn’t seem amused by you even trying to help as you sit down on the couch, twist to watch him work. “Are you sure you don’t want me to help?”

“I am cooking to apologize. It would not be honourable for you to help me,” he replies shortly and you nod to yourself, turning back around to watch the news. Nothing about a break-in with the floats, nothing at all indicating… anything.

For some reason, it makes you uneasy. The last time you snuck into an Arasaka building, everything went to shit and it made its mark. The lack of visible ripples makes you feel like nothing’s happened at all. Like it’s all been a fever dream, and you and Takemura didn’t sit on that roof for hours, watching the cat, just… talking.

Jesus, you need to get laid.

“Still don’t know why you bother cooking,” you say. Takemura noticeably stiffens and even though you don’t see it, you can almost feel the way he manipulates the air he stands in. He has that power—pure corpo power—and you clench your jaw. “Why waste time on someone so lazy as me?”

“V—"

“Nah, my bad. Arrogant. Hell, you probably see all the takeout around here and think I’m taking some easy route to food.” The bitterness is enough to puncture holes in steel as you stare blankly at the screen. “After all, I dirty my hands for money,” you quote. Your chest tightens as you hear his voice echo in yours, the way he had said it so coldly. Stomach turning, you shake your head. “Not in the name of some fucking principles.”

There’s a silence on his end and you close your eyes, swallowing through the bruising in your throat, a telltale sign you’re holding back tears. Just the mention of Jackie makes you want to spiral and you take a deep breath, trying not to react.

For the first time, you think Johnny might be right.

“Damn right, I am,” a voice says and you open your eyes, gaze fluttering to the side to see Johnny lounging against your couch. You turn around to see Takemura’s moved to the bathroom, probably to clean rice… however the fuck you make onigiri. You don’t know. You’re too tired to care about food, or feelings, or anything. “Never can trust a corpo. They all want one thing.”

“I don’t need to remind you that I was a corpo kid, do I?”

“Not anymore. It’s about principles.” Johnny’s tone is wry and you scowl at him. “What? If there’s one thing you might be able to relate to is that you both have ‘em. His might be wrong as shit, but…”

“Yeah, whatever.” 

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re gonna forgive him. This guy’s got you wrong, V. You don’t waste time on people like that.”

“I don’t have time to stay angry with him,” you argue. “The fact is, I’m dying and he’s gonna be the only one who can save me.” Johnny sits up straight, leaning on his knees and you sigh, shaking your head. Resting your arm along the back of the couch, you fit your hand to your face, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Fuck.”

“Stop. Don’t do it, V. It’s not worth it,” Johnny warns, standing up and you wrench your gaze up as you shift your feet on the floor and lean forward, burying your face in your hands. “I can feel everything you are feeling, and if I have to deal with your indecisive debates on whether or not it’s worth it to become attached to this corp piece of shit, I’ll kill myself.”

“You’re already dead, Johnny.”

“Let me live a little.” He stands and edges around you as if he were real and you rest your chin in your palms, watching as his holographic imagine crosses you before glitching back into view again across the table. He sits down. “The truth is, you’re gonna have a hell of a problem.”

“I know.”

“So, stop.” Johnny says it like it’s so easy and you chew on your cheek as the faucet turns off and you turn around to see Takemura begin to leave your bathroom. His pale eyes catch yours and you turn around only to see your brain tumour’s gone and left you alone. It’s eerily quiet in your head and you stand, clearing your throat.

Takemura slips the clean rice into the rice cooker before closing it and you cross your arms below your breasts, squeezing yourself tightly. You feel bare in your clothes despite wearing your scuffed jacket. He regards you warily, and then he sighs, gesturing to the couch—a silent ask.

 You nod, stepping back and letting him take where you were sitting earlier. You retreat across from him, where Johnny was sitting and he glances around your apartment. You wonder if he’s judging even more of you, but then he looks into his hands, swallowing visibly. 

“V—"

“You’re not the only one with principles. Just because I kill for money don't mean I'd do anything for it,” you begin coldly, leaning back and studying him. “And nothing about my life has been easy. When I said you did what you had to do to keep food on the table, that wasn’t me judging you. That was me getting it, alright, Goro?” His eyes meet yours and you arch an eyebrow, scoffing. “Not my problem if you don’t believe me. Yeah, I oppose corps, because they ruined my life, and so many other people’s lives no one can count 'em, but that doesn't mean you're any better than me. You don’t get to make assumptions about me. You never get to make assumptions about Jackie.That is all I have to say.”

He nods, accepting your harsh tone and you bite your tongue, trying not to burn down the bridge anymore than you need to as you prop a foot up against the table. Takemura doesn't say anything for a hot moment and you think you've wasted your time. Your knee jiggles. He doesn't even look at you.

Then: “I must again say that we are both still grieving. We ache to lash out. That is why I said what I said, and why, I presume, you say what you say.” He steeples his fingers and regards you with those eyes, gorgeous in their own right. “I understand what I said was callous. You have been nothing but understanding to my own loss.”

“No shit.”

“And I understand Mr. Welles was your friend.”

“He was like my brother,” you correct icily. “He’s been there for me since the beginning, I—I can’t forgive you saying something like that about him so easily, Goro.”

He dips his head. “I understand. It is why I cook for you. It is how I best express myself." The corner of his mouth tugs up faintly in a mirthless facsimile of a smile before he exhales sharply through his nose, looking at you again. "I confess I have not had time recently to cook, but I will do my best.” Johnny’s link comes to life at the mention and your own stomach squirms silently. “We are in this together, V. I do not wish for you to be angry at me.”

“Don’t do it, V. Don’t take it.”

“Fuck off, Johnny. I’m starving.” Aloud, you say: “I’ll be angry for a while. Just… let me sleep on it and we'll see from there.” He nods and you let your arms fall to your sides as you sit up. “It’s been a long few days, so I just… I just want to not think about anything for a while, you know?”

“I understand.”

He says that a lot, you notice. 

“Thank you for apologizing, at least,” you continue grudgingly. “Thanks.” You stand and gesture vaguely around the place. “Make yourself at home. I’m… I’m going to shower and scrub this grime off.” Dried blood, sweat, dirt, et cetera. He nods and stands as well, returning to the tiny cooking station he’s made for himself. You head to your closet, managing to pick out a clean shirt that’s a bit big and a jacket you ripped off a 6th Street goon a few weeks back. You just picked it up from the cleaners.

Heading for the bathroom, you set your crap on the toilet cover before poking your head out. Spotting Takemura sitting in front of the table, carefully sharpening a knife, you wait until he’s noticed you staring and he prompts you silently to ask.

“How’d you even know where I live, anyway?” 

He turns his gaze back on the blade.

“Ms. Olszewski marked it in my map, should the need arise.”

“This was a need?” you ask, curiously sardonic. Takemura doesn’t smile back and again, you get that impression he either doesn’t know how or he doesn’t do it often enough to remember. For some reason, that makes you sad. "Could've left it well enough alone. You know that."

“Oh, come on, V,” Johnny murmurs in your ear. “Don’t wax poetics on this guy.”

You ignore him.

“I do not enjoy the thought of a rift between you and I,” admits Takemura. He sets down the knife and sighs, eyes flitting to you briefly. Your hand wraps around the doorframe and you press your lips into a faint frown. "I... I have grown used to you."

You nod despite the words punching into your chest. “I don’t like it when we fight either.” At least, that you don’t have to fight twice to figure out. Your expression eases and your shoulders drop. “I’ll just hop in. Help yourself to whatever you can find. Really.” He accepts your offer with another nod and you close the door. It locks and you press your back against the metal, tipping your head back.

“For the love of—“

“Shut it, Johnny. Just… just give me a second.”

And on one of the rare occassions that he listens to you, Silverhand says nothing about how your heart doesn’t feel like wrought iron anymore.

[thedistantdusk]

Arcadia, Chapter 3

Thanks to everyone who followed along! Things are heating up with this chapter! Most of the referenced triggers from chapter 1 apply in this chapter specifically. Here's the link to chapter 2, if you're just seeing this now :)

Thanks again to @secretkeeper13, @accio-broom, @remedialpotions, @jamezbot, @jenoramaca, @not-steve42, @ginisbetterthanfirewhiskey... god, I'm forgetting people, and I'm sorry! But you're all amazing <3

___________________________

D A Y + T H R E E

As fate would have it, Ginny wakes before 0-700.

Not that she sleeps.

Nightmares, the likes of which she hasn’t experienced in years, torment her throughout the night. They leave her scared. Miserable. Guilty. Around 3 AM, she finally reaches for her Dreamless Sleep potion with shaking hands. For more reasons than one, she’s pleased that Harry’s slept on the couch.

She knows now just how stupid this entire mission truly was. The longer she analyzes it, the more she accepts that her bloody pride got her here in the first place. A chance for a promotion, however small, gave her false confidence in her ability to disregard a decade of sexual tension, all while trapped in close quarters with the person she wants the most.

She hopes Harry makes himself sparse today, though she knows that sounds cruel. But the longer they spend together, the clearer it becomes they’re on the cusp of something… and not something that would look good on a performance review. He’s been kind and understanding so far, even when she’s fucked things up. She just hopes she can ignore the most human parts of herself until they’ve dealt with this.

So at half-past 8, Ginny — Jenny — emerges from the house in a bright floral sundress and nude pumps. Were it not for the secret weapon clutched in her right fist, she might have fit in quite well... but Jenny has no intention of fitting in. Not anymore. In three confident strides, she marches across the front lawn, bends down, and spears the prongs of a lurid pink flamingo into the grass.

Yes.

She grins and takes in her work. How ghastly against the backdrop of earth tones! How repugnant!

Ginny steals quick glimpses over each shoulder, only to be met with the eerie, blanketed silence that’s defined Arcadia since their arrival. No activity at all. Which means she’ll have no issue with the next bit…

She strides to the mailbox at the end of their driveway and gives it a sharp kick. The post slides out of alignment, leaving it askew. Perfect. She returns to the house with a bounce in her step. Living with the twins taught her a thing or two about how to infuriate complete strangers.

She just hopes it’ll be enough.

___________________________

As luck would have it, it is enough. Her efforts receive reward more quickly than she thought— more quickly than she’s been conditioned to expect.

Scarcely an hour passes before she finds the warning she needs. And to be honest, it could’ve been there sooner; she just figured she’d give it that long before she checked.

Still, it’s not even 10 AM when she opens the door and sees it on their welcome mat: a folded paper with Pee-tri scrolled on the front. She can’t help but admire the sheer cheek as she unfolds it; this is the closest they’ll get to a public call-out for the way Harry insists on correcting everyone’s pronunciation. The message inside doesn’t surprise her, either.

Be like the others before dark. Or else.

Ginny glimpses out at the lawn, just to confirm— and yes. Sure enough. Just as she’d suspected, the flamingo's gone. The mailbox is straight. Everything’s back to normal.

She kicks the door closed with a smirk and wonders if they’re aware of how easily they’ve exposed themselves. How—

“What’ve you got there?” Harry calls from the sofa in the living room. He looks up from his laptop with bleary, dark-rimmed eyes. A wave of guilt washes through her; that sofa clearly didn’t get more comfortable overnight. Not that he would’ve accepted the alternative.

“Erm. A letter.” She waves in front of her and walks into the living room. “I’ve done a great job annoying them!”

He offers a gentle smile. “Any chance you’ll let me know who this ‘them’ is that you’re so worried about?”

Ginny rolls her eyes and settles on the other end of the couch. “You know I can’t—”

“Talk about your work,” Harry finishes, turning back to his computer. “Right.”

“Mm. Not exactly that I can’t… talk about my work,” she ventures, putting her feet up on the white ottoman. “More like I can’t give information until it’s essential knowledge for all parties involved. Based on criteria that I also can’t share.”

“Sounds like a fun job,” Harry deadpans, still looking at the computer. “But anyway, if I were to suggest something like… I don’t know…” He casually tilts the screen in her direction. “The fact that Oliver Skinner definitely has a criminal record, and maybe that’s worth looking into. You couldn’t confirm or deny that?”

Ginny just shrugs. “That’s correct. I can neither confirm nor deny.”

His theory is wrong, of course. Dead wrong.

They wouldn’t have sent an Unspeakable and an Auror into the country if this were a simple Muggle murderer. Harry would be able to suss this out, she reckons, if he had more sleep. Poor bloke.

He groans and cracks his back. “I’m starting to understand why King’s always so frustrated.”

“Probably because he has to deal with you all the time,” Ginny quips, reaching for a magazine on the floor. Ugh. Of course, it’s only the TV guide, Radio Times. They don’t even have a TV, but it came with the Daily Mail on Sunday.

Harry reaches for a glass of water on the coffee table. “Fine,” he relents, in between sips. “I’ll stay in my lane. But if I get bored, I’ll get tetchy.” He gestures to the computer. “And since they’ve given us this laptop, I’ve had time to do a bit of—”

“They’ve given me a laptop,” Ginny corrects, arching a brow. “As you’re well aware, Auror Potter, that is technically the property of the DoM.” She returns to the guide with a shrug. “I just don’t care if you use it, mostly because I don’t expect you’ll be looking up tits all day.”

He chokes on his water; Ginny just laughs and turns the page. Ooh, lovely! Eurovision looks particularly flamboyant this year…

“You’re absolutely right,” Harry says, once he recovers. “I’d never look up tits on government property!” He looks affronted as he hands over the laptop, but she knows he’s not done... not when he’s set that up so perfectly. Annnnd sure enough…

“You of all people should know I'm an arse-man, Ginny.”

Now it’s her turn for an unattractive snort as he winks over his shoulder and marches upstairs.

When he’s gone, Ginny rolls her eyes and opens her laptop. He’s an incredible liar on the arse-man front, but it was a good joke. A simple joke…. one that didn’t deserve looking into.

It’s just unfortunate that can’t stop these stupid fucking butterflies from erupting in her stomach like she’s ten years old again.

___________________________

He launches into the air again, the gardens of his neighbors spanning out in front of him. Each perfectly manicured. Each disturbing in its performative precision. None of this is real; none of this is life.

He pulled out the trampoline after dinner, when Ginny okayed it. He’s not used to that— checking before he does things. This whole exercise has been a great reminder that his teamwork skills are rusty, especially when he’s in a subordinate role. Ron left after their first year to work in the magic shop instead, which only made sense after… yeah. Harry draws a deep breath and jumps again. Ron and Hermione haven’t been problem-solving in his head for ages. There’s been no one to share the burden of choices or—

“OI!” Oliver’s voice thunders across the garden.

Harry smiles and takes another huge leap into the air. Just in time…

He rips open the fence door and stomps over, hands balled into fists. Harry’s never seen anyone look quite so furious while dressed in cashmere. And standing beside a trampoline.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Oliver hisses, eyes narrowed to slits. “Are you trying to make enemies, Henry? Is this entire estate a bloody joke to you?”

“Of course not!” Harry lands on his bum before he jumps up again. “This is very serious!”

“Oliver!” Sharon wails, hurrying over. “Oliver. Please! This really—”

“Keep your nose where it belongs, woman,” Oliver snarls, looking at her like she’s scum on his shoe. “No one wants your opinion!”

Sharon flinches… and this, more than anything else, gets Harry’s back up. “No need to take it out on her!” he snaps, climbing down from the trampoline. “Talk to me if you’ve got a problem, Ollie. Why not—”

But just as Harry’s feet touch the grass, something very weird happens: A dull buzzing fills his ears. Sharon and Oliver hear it too, but unlike Harry, they aren’t looking around in bewildered confusion. In a flash, the rage on Oliver’s face transforms into something much different: fear. And as the pressure grows, Harry can only watch as Oliver grabs Sharon’s hand, yanking her from the garden, when—

An unmistakable sound replaces the buzzing. A large piece of glass from somewhere in the front of the house shatters on the pavement. And with that, the buzzing stops.

Birds chirp again. Someone laughs in the distance. Harry jabs a finger in his ear, trying to clear it, but it seems Oliver’s returned to his furious state. He lunges towards Harry, a vein ticking in his neck, his hands outstretched as if to push him over— but Harry doesn’t have time for this. He’s already running around him, bolting towards the source of the sound, his hand inching for his pocket…

Because whatever they’ve got going on isn’t related to Oliver, is it? No… definitely not. That buzzing was too creepy to be muggle. Harry hadn’t really been convinced of the Oliver theory in the first place, even if the wanker has a criminal record for drunk driving. He mostly suggested it to Ginny to see if she’d give him any information.

Harry spots the broken glass the second he reaches the pavement. The lamppost right outside their house has shattered, light bulb and all. Bits of glass sparkle on the street, but the lamppost is at least 10 feet high. Harry scans around for signs of a ladder, or some form of a projectile… any method someone might’ve used to— oh! A baseball rolls around in one of the open garages across the street. He’s about to march over and collect it when his conscience stops him.

Because that’s the definition of circumstantial evidence, isn’t it? Harry sighs, rubbing his forehead. Snatching the baseball while working alone is one thing, but it’s not worth risking Ginny’s job. Especially because he reckons these thoroughly unmemorable homes are each equipped with monitoring systems. At absolute best, that would be… awkward to explain to the muggle police, especially without an obvious connection between the ball and the shattered lamppost...

Harry’s just about to turn back inside and write it off a freak occurrence when—

Shit.

His breath freezes in his throat.

What the...

He blinks a few times to make sure he’s not imagining it, but no...

There’s no weird buzzing this time… but something else is happening instead. The grass on the far side of their yard is bulging and curling, right in front of his eyes. The soil creaks as this… this mass — a huge sphere of some sort — passes through; bits of dirt fly into the air before settling back.

Harry’s veins turn to ice, his stomach churning. Work has introduced him to new, vile varieties of ghouls and nasties. He’s been bitten by a leprechaun. Stalked by a vampire. He’s encountered every disturbing otherworldly menace that one could imagine.

But he’s never seen anything like this.

His only solace is that it’s headed towards Mike’s empty house… this massive, rolling boulder that travels beneath the soil. ‘Boulder’ isn’t exactly the right term, though; he’s never seen a boulder move with a slinking, predatory grace. He’s never gotten gooseflesh from a rock, no matter how large.

And try as he might, he can only stand there, wide-eyed, his heart racing. Because now he knows for sure what Ginny only alluded to before: whatever they’re chasing isn’t human.

And it’s aware of them.

___________________________

The door creaks open less than five minutes after the glass shatters, but Ginny’s prepared.

She’s standing in the alcove just off the entryway, wand in one hand, fire poker in the other. It’s probably not the best strategy she’s ever had— but she reckons that if a Muggle were to catch sight of an altercation, it would be an easy memory supplantation. Wands and fire pokers don’t look that dissimilar, and—

“Ginny?” Harry calls. Directly into her ear.

Shit! She jumps into the air, the poker clattering to the ground.

“When did you learn to move like a cat?” she demands, turning to face him. “You nearly—”

“We need to talk,” he says brusquely. It’s only then that she takes in his wide, haunted eyes. His white pallor. The way he hasn’t even commented on the ridiculousness of her fire poker.

Oh.

He’s scared.

Scared in a way she hasn’t seen him in ages. Maybe ever. Which means he heard…? Shit. She’d might as well ask.

“What do you erm…” She toys with her wand handle. “Want to talk about?”

Harry heaves a tired sigh. “I’m only going to ask you this once,” he says flatly, rubbing his hand over his forehead. Then he blinks up at her, his eyes pulsing and stern. “What the fuck was that?”

“The… shattered lamppost?” she hedges. “I’ve no idea. I just—”

Apparently, that was the wrong response.

Harry groans. “You know damn well I don’t mean the bloody lamppost!” he snarls. “I mean that… that thing! First the weird buzzing, then whatever moved through the grass! It was like some creepy worm, or—”

“—not a worm,” she amends, staring at her cuticles.

This, too, was the wrong reply; she’s never seen him go from bewildered to enraged quite so fast.

Harry lets out a furious roar and kicks at an empty box. “This is why Unspeakables are so fucking annoying!” he shouts, tossing his hands in the air. “You never fucking say anything — even if it might help someone!”

Pfft! He can do better than that...

“Not sure what you expected,” she deadpans. “Would it help if I were a Speakable instead?”

Harry rolls his eyes and throws himself on the couch. Ginny just leans against the door… and waits. She can’t say she blames him for being angry. It’s probably made him feel vulnerable in ways he hasn’t in ages.

“The least you can bloody do,” Harry says, cutting into her thoughts, “is to let me know how to kill it.” He glimpses up at her, his chest still heaving. “Because if anything happened to you….” His hand curls around his wand, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “We both know I’d never forgive myself.”

Fuck.

Her heart clenches; as embarrassing as it is, tears sting the backs of her eyes. She wasn’t expecting that… but it makes perfect sense. He’s not angry because he’s vulnerable; he’s angry because he doesn’t know how to protect her.

Because he’s Harry.

Her Harry.

And try as she might, she can’t deny that. He’s hers… even though now he’s broken and angry and scared and alone. Which is probably why she loves the fucking fuck out of him.

No.

She stops herself, squeezing her eyes shut. Mission. Mission. They’re on a mission.

Right. She clears her throat and steps forward, two papers clutched in her hand.

“What’s that?” Harry grumbles as she hands them over. He scans the pages, brow furrowing. “Sugar… engine oil. Red Dye 40. What am I supposed to do with—?”

Ginny smiles and tries to make this easy. “It’s the report from the necklace. The thing that was on Mike’s medallion… it’s rubbish. Not blood, not some ghost slime. It’s just a weird mixture of types of rubbish.”

She should’ve figured he wouldn’t find this significant.

“What a brilliant scientific discovery.” Harry tosses the paper to the side. “Hermione would be thrilled.”

Ginny gnaws at her cheek, choosing her words carefully… but if he’s already seen it, if he’s already heard it, surely there’s no harm...

Harry rises to his feet and takes a step closer until he’s towering over her, all warm and brooding. They aren’t touching… not exactly. He’s just hovering close enough to give her strength, whether he knows it or not. When she finally gets the nerve to look up at him, his green eyes are swirling with more pain than rage. Truth be told, she prefers the rage. “I deserve to know,” he says thickly, like he’s suppressing something in his throat, “what the fuck is going on.”

Ginny breaks their eye contact. Some of this she hasn’t even shared with Attica yet. She’s violating about a million protocols by telling Harry first, but if they’re together on a mission…

“It’s… not what we thought. Not what I thought,” she admits softly, after a moment. “We came out here under the assumption of chasing something from the Thought Chamber. Something that erm… may have escaped. During a routine experiment.”

He’s not impressed, though. “Yeah,” he says, arching a brow. “I gathered all of that from your intro with the camera, thanks. Do you ever plan on telling me anything new?” He jerks his chin towards the window. “Because you’ve sure as hell never mentioned Evil Grass Monster Experiment #6, and that may have been helpful to fucking know before I saw it.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake!

His attitude is more infuriating than his actual words, but she lacks the patience for dealing with either. The bloody nerve, to act all impatient with information that’s kept secret for a reason...

“I don’t have to tell you shit, actually,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest. “And in case you’re unaware, I can protect myself.”

Harry pulls back with a laugh, but this one is cruel. Dark. The sort she’s never heard from him before. “Makes sense,” he says with a fake grin. Then he taps her on the nose. “Because when that thing outside inevitably kills someone else, we all know how well you’ll manage the guilt.”

Ouch.

She reels back, stung. He’s got to know that’s a low blow. Younger Ginny would have Bat Bogeyed him into oblivion, but she’s better now. She’s changed.

At least that’s what she tells herself as she glares at him, her hands fisted so tightly they turn white. “Say what you mean,” she manages several moments later, when rage isn’t clawing at her chest. “If you’d like to rehash our breakup, Auror Potter, I’m all ears!” She gives her best impression of an icy smirk. “This isn’t exactly professional… but then again, when have you ever been?”

Harry looks like he’s going to respond, but a loud vibration starts in his back pocket. “Fuck!” Now it’s his turn to leap into the air before he realizes it’s just his wand. And really, she’s tempted to laugh— but the look on his face helps her put the pieces together.

Because if his wand’s vibrating, that means it’s an emergency; only department heads can summon their employees like that. They’re the only ones with access to that sort of technology, not that she’s really interested either way.

“It’s King,” he mutters. She’s about to get on him for stating the obvious, but when he peers at her again, his face is filled with such timid yearning that she can only see the 11-year-old boy on the train platform. “Can I…erm. Use your mobile?”

Fine. Ginny nods towards the bedroom, her head still spinning. She’s still a bit angry with him, but he’s so fucking broken. They both are. And besides, they’ve got bigger problems. What could possibly have King so worried that he’d call Harry from a mission? The man is unflappable.

Harry returns a minute later, his face stony, jaw set. In another life, she might’ve seen the bulge in his pocket and asked if that’s just her mobile, or if he’s happy to see her.

Instead, she tucks her hair behind her ears like the seasoned professional she is. “There’s no reception inside,” she points out. “I’ve had luck calling Attica from up the street, right at the corner. Just watch out for…”

Harry smirks. “Grass monsters?”

Ginny draws a breath to consider her options. She could keep him in the dark forever, but isn’t that the whole point of this assignment? To learn? It’s time for the truth, she reckons...

“It’s erm. It’s called a tulpa, actually.”

His eyes light up at this. “A tulpa?”

Ginny shifts her weight and searches for the right words. “It’s a… it’s sort of like an evil imaginary friend, created by a group of people to do their bidding,” she explains, reaching for the discarded papers. “They come from the material of whatever’s underground. I’ve only heard of creatures made from clay or water, but since this village was built on a rubbish tip”— she flicks the papers with her fingers— “that’s our guy!”

She can almost see the gears spinning in Harry’s head as he studies the far wall. “So…” he says slowly, still peering off, “it’s basically an evil dump monster, made of rubbish, that can murder people.”

A laugh slips past her lips. It sounds a bit dumb when he puts it that way. She clears her throat and continues. “I was wrong because it’s not something that’s escaped, more like something that’s—”

“Formed,” Harry finishes quickly. For the first time all week, he sounds intrigued. Like he’s happy to be here. “So… they’ve made it to keep order, then?”

“It would seem so.” She shrugs. “I… honestly don’t know. But between the weird buzzing and the rubbish, it’s the closest match we’ve got. According to the system database, anyway.”

There’s another pause as Harry mulls this over. “So, how do we get rid of it, then?”

How fucked up is it that her heart warms at the way he says ‘we’?

Ginny brushes that aside. “Considering the mask in Gogolak’s house and the way they’ve made a point to tell us he’s in charge, I’d say he’s the one we need to get rid of.”

Harry crosses his arms over his chest but doesn’t object.

“Or at least… knock him totally unconscious,” she adds, swallowing; Gogolak’s a wanker, but she’d rather not kill him, either. “Beyond just being asleep. Because he sleeps at night, but the tulpa’s still here, which means he needs to be down for the count. Comatose, even.”

Harry’s wand buzzes again. Ah, shit; in all the hubbub, she’d forgotten about that.

Concern floods Harry’s face. “Give me five minutes.” He blinks. “Ok?”

She waves towards the door. “Duty calls.”

He gives her a weak smile and turns away; she begins the trek upstairs to send Attica an email update.

“Ginny?”

She stops to look down at him. Harry’s paused, halfway out the door. “Thank you,” he says softly, meeting her eyes. “And… I’m sorry. For everything. Ok? I’ll always, erm…”

But she can’t right now. She actually fucking can’t.

“Later,” she whispers, nearly begging. “Please. Let’s do this later.”

Because of course she loves him.

She’s always fucking loved him, even though that’s changed forms. It’s shifted. It’s evolved. He feels the same way… she knows he’s bloody feels the same way. She just doesn’t have the resources to deal with whatever this fuck is reigniting, right in front of her eyes, as the tulpa dances in the back of her head.

Luckily, he understands. Harry just swallows again, nods at her, and heads out into the night.

___________________________

As it would turn out, he was wrong about the identity of the summoner.

“Great news!” Hermione announces on the other end of the mobile. “MLE found Yaxley. He was hiding in a cave in Romania, just like you said.”

Harry snorts; he wishes that gave him more pride. “Well, if you’d listened to me months ago, then—”

“The important part is that we have him,” Hermione says, cutting across. “We need you back ASAP to prep for witness questioning. You’ll take the stand, of course. The trial’s set to start next week!”

He can practically hear her bouncing with excitement. Very little brings her more joy than trials of former Death Eaters.

“Erm… about that.” Harry rubs the back of his neck. “We’re actually right on the cusp of something here. I’m gonna need a couple more days to wrap things up.”

“Really?” Hermione sounds surprised. “Kingsley and Robards said you’d be pleased. Said you found this mission as useless as they did.”

Fuck, he was such an arse.

“Well, things… changed,” he offers lamely. “It’s going really well. This mission is so important to her. I’d just hate to leave at the last minute.”

“Ohhh?” Hermione draws out the word in a way that suggests she finds herself quite clever. Even before she asks, he knows what she’s on about. “How’s it going with Ginny, then?”

Harry rolls his eyes. Her coy prodding is obvious, even over the phone.

“As I already said, it’s going well,” he replies flatly. “We’re a great team. Always have been.”

But she can’t let him have that one, can she?

“Well… not always,” Hermione allows. “After Percy—”

Harry groans. For fuck’s sake, what’s her obsession with stating the obvious? “Yeah, well,” he retorts, “I’d like to know who you think did well after that, especially since…”

He trails off with a sigh.

Especially since what, exactly?

He toys with the fraying ends of his hoodie string.

Especially since Ginny was the last to speak with Percy? That she still carries the weight of the guilt for what she said that night? That she’s never admitted it, but that he suspects her choice to become an Unspeakable was influenced by the things she wishes she could un-say?

Harry makes a face. That’s corny as fuck, isn’t it? What a thing to pull from his arse...

Hermione interrupts his thoughts for a bit of bragging. “Well, Ron and I have done just fine.”

He can almost imagine her staring at her engagement ring in dreamy affection. The mental image makes his reply sound more bitter than he intends.

“Well,” Harry snaps, “Ron wasn’t the last person to speak with Percy. So I’m not sure how you could compare the two, really.”

Shit.

The silence on the other end tells him he needs to apologize, even if it’s true. Fortunately, Hermione gives him an easy out. “Anyway.” She clears her throat. “I’ll give you until tomorrow night, but we really need you the following day. If you haven’t settled this, we’re swapping you out. Got it?”

Harry sighs. He’s exhausted, but this couldn’t possibly take much longer. Ginny’s more or less got the proof she needs now. They just need to confront Gogolak, knock him out, and—

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

Harry cranes his neck towards the source of the noise. Huh… weird. Far up the street, flashing lights tip him off. That’s definitely Oliver’s Audi, the one parked in the driveway directly beside theirs. It’s in utopia blue with a metallic finish, a detail Oliver probably mentioned at least fifty times the other night. Then, while Sharon and Ginny were out walking the dog, Oliver began a mind-numbing lecture on the car’s exact miles per liter. Harry was a bit drunk, which is probably why he interrupted to ask a much more important maths question: How many blow jobs per week is too many, exactly?

Even from a distance, Harry can tell that Oliver’s nearly the same shade of murderous red now; he storms from the house and turns off the alarm with his key fob. But then he pauses, glancing around like something’s spooked him. He must decide it’s not that significant, though, because he huffs back inside soon enough. Fucking wanker...

“....Harry?”

“Sorry!” Harry shakes his head. “Yeah, sorry, that works. See you then, Hermione.”

“Can’t wait!” she trills. He doesn’t need to see her face to know she’s smug and grinning.

___________________________

Two minutes after Harry leaves, Ginny feels it again: that same sensation she experienced while walking Captain Bone.

She’s sitting at her laptop when it starts… this deeply unsettling shift. It stands the hair up on the back of her neck. She rushes to the window on instinct, but just like before, everything outside looks the same. There’s no “moving grass monster,” as Harry called it. Not yet, at least.

Still, she can’t deny it’s growing louder. Getting stronger. And now that she’s felt it for a bit longer, she can put more words to it. It’s like she’s plummeting through the absence of sound; like all the wind’s been sucked from the air. It’s a building pressure, a mounting unease, and before she knows it, her whole body starts to shake.

Then two things happen in quick succession: that weird feeling stops, and a car alarm begins to blare in the distance.

Weird.

She shudders. This whole thing is so fucking weird. Weird is her job, and this place is still Very Fucking Weird. Seriously, who enjoys living here? She’s reaching for her wand, just in case, when the front door slams open.

In retrospect, it’s a blessing she knows Harry as well as she does… because she can tell that those heavy, clobbering footsteps don’t belong to him. She knows he’s not the one drawing deep, ragged breaths as he marches up the stairs.

She hides around the corner of the bedroom, her heart racing, and goes through a mental list of spells she might use. Shield charms. Enchantments. The buzzing’s stopped, so this probably isn’t the tulpa… but who else would be here? Gogolak? It sounds more human than—

“Jenny?” a deep, soothing voice asks. “Are you in here?”

Her breath freezes in her throat. She’s only heard that voice once before… but it’s so similar to her former life that she identifies it at once.

“Mike?” A wave of relief washes through her. She shoves her wand into her dress as she comes around the corner. Sure enough, there he is, in the flesh. Mike Snodgrass. A man she presumed dead days ago.

“Hi!” Mike pants. He cracks a smile. “I’d offer to shake your hand, but.” He winces, wiping a palm on his ripped khakis. “Been hiding!” Fuck. His whole outfit (yellow Polo, khakis) is the same he wore days ago to unload their boxes, except now it’s filthy. Stained. Like he’s been living beneath cars and inside drains. He’s just missing his Saint Julian medallion, which she’s sent to the Ministry.

Ginny feels sick. She wrote him off as dead so carelessly...

“I’ve been trying to take it down,” he adds earnestly, peering at her. His cheeks are caked in something red and grimy, the same stuff she stuffed into her bra. He’s been tailing the tulpa, she realizes, her stomach plummeting…

Except he’s got no clue what he’s doing.

“I was about to leave the development, to just run away, but that’s when I figured out it was coming for you two!” He shudders, closing his eyes. It feels like he’s been waiting a long, long time to say this. “And I’ve been aimless without Jess in the first place. So what was the point in leaving, really, if I could save…?”

He trails off, clearing his throat; when he looks up at her again, there’s a flash of annoyance in his eyes. “I’ve been leaving clues, though! Why didn’t you listen?”

“Clues?” Ginny sounds like she’s a million miles away.

Mike’s nearly pleading now. “You had to go and kick the mailbox and stick the flamingo in the grass, didn’t you?” He raises his pointer finger. “And even though I left you a note, you had to make it even worse! It only attacks when the sun goes down, see.”

“You… you left the note?” she whispers. She was so certain that it was from Gogolak...

But Mike proceeds in such a rush it’s clear he hasn’t heard her. “It was about to get Henry by the trampoline, so I threw the baseball as a diversion. I broke the lamppost, too— which worked. For a second,” he adds hastily, glancing over his shoulder.

“How did you also set off the car alarm— oh.” Her head’s still spinning. “Buddy system. Right.”

Mike dangles a keyfob. “Covenant rules. Stole the spare off Jane.” He glances into the hall again before whipping back to face her. “It’ll need a sacrifice tonight, though,” he adds grimly. “And every night, until you all have perfect behavior. It was coming for you earlier, see. We aren’t meant to be outdoors after dark without a permit for dog-walking, so.” He shrugs. “If there’s an unapproved disruption like a car alarm, it knows just where to hunt.”

It’s then that the final pieces of this dreadful puzzle slide together in her brain. “Captain Bone,” Ginny breathes; she swears a feather could knock her over. “He was the first since we arrived. Punishment for us sticking out.”

“I couldn’t save him,” Mike laments. “It came up and snatched him. So I threw in my medallion, right after his collar, just to make them think I was already gone.”

“That’s… that was brilliant,” she admits, biting her lip. “Thank you. You didn’t have—”

“Nah,” he says firmly. “I did. For starters, you remind me so much of…” He stops mid-sentence, an odd expression on his face.

For a second, she thinks he’s being sentimental, but then she feels it too.

Shit.

The hairs on her arm stand up. It’s back… that weird way she felt before. Like the air’s sucked from the room. That creeping, clawing silence. This time, though, it only gets louder, louder, louder, until she’s throwing her hands over her ears, all hope of self-defense forgotten.

But Mike knows what he’s doing. He knows exactly what he’s doing. She doesn’t have the chance to object or get her wand before he’s ripping open the closet door and throwing her inside. Ginny opens her mouth in a startled cry, but it’s like she’s screaming underwater, the sound distant and distorted. Mike slams the door closed with her inside and stomps to the center of the room— but now the thundering, roaring wind is causing her physical pain… it’s so loud now that it reverberates in her chest, so loud that her hands shake as she reaches for her wand at long last, but fuck fuck fuck, it’s too late…

It’s too fucking late.

Because Mike’s made a choice. One he can’t take back. He just stands in the middle of the room, puffing out his chest, offering himself as the proud sacrifice, even as the noise grows so loud that Ginny screams her throat raw.

She feels it enter the bedroom, this looming, shifting mass— but by then, she’s certain her ears are bleeding, her eardrums bursting. Her whole body rattles and shakes as she peers through the slats in the closet door, but she’s frozen. Stuck. Miserable. She couldn’t cast a spell if she tried… even as the tulpa oozes into the room, lunges itself back, and swallows Mike with a sickening squelch.

Even though the slats of the door, Ginny’s sprayed with blood. Covered. And she’s dizzy now… so dizzy. A drop of blood trickles into her eye; she reaches up to wipe it from her face, and it’s only then that she hears her own screams again. They reverberate through the small space, anguished and pleading, so loud that she’s certain someone up the street could hear, but she doesn’t care. She doesn’t fucking care. She just screams over and over and over, her nails clawing at the walls, until the world slips away into darkness.

___________________________

Blood.

It’s the first thing he smells as he charges up the steps. His chest squeezes, his eyes water, his head pounds over and over again with one word: No.

No. No. No.

Not Ginny. It can’t be.

But almost as soon as he smells the blood, he hears her screaming, and yes! His heart soars. Screaming is good; screaming means she’s alive and breathing and—

Fuck.

His dinner rises in his throat as he steps into the bedroom. He smelled the blood from the steps, he hadn’t expected… this much. It always takes him aback, exactly how much blood is in one human body, and he’s certainly never seen it sprayed, all over the floor… covering the walls. Covering the closet, even, where Ginny’s still screaming.

He flings open the door, thinking he’s prepared for what he might see. Somehow, though, none of that measures up. Because he’s dealt with tears in his line of work… but he’s never, ever seen her so broken. His chest clenches when he takes her in. Her perfect suburban dress — the yellow floral one, the one he liked so much— is now red and grimy, caked in blood, as Ginny rocks back and forth on the floor, sobs wracking her body.

Blood’s covering her face, too, and her arms. Dried trails of it have crusted around her eyes, like she’s fallen asleep wiping them away… or perhaps lost consciousness. The thought is too terrible to bear. He kicks the door open completely and brings her into his arms in one fell swoop.

She melts against him, her voice raw and broken. “H-Harry!” she manages. “P-please! I need-I need!” She begins to shake, pressing her face to his chest.

“A shower,” he says firmly, stepping into the en-suite. “You… you just need a shower. Ok? And maybe some calming draught, I’ve got some in my luggage, and—”

“No!” she cries, shaking her head. Her eyes are wide and filled with horror. “Don’t… don’t leave. Don’t leave me, Harry, please!”

“I… ok,” he allows, carrying her to his luggage to retrieve the bottle. She clings to his neck as he reaches for it, but she weighs next to nothing. Fuck, she’s so thin… he’d just been too busy eyeing her up to realize exactly how thin. What a complete wanker.

It’s not difficult to unzip the suitcase with one hand and pass her the bottle. “Take this,” he urges, thrusting it into her hands. “Please, Ginny. You’ll feel—”

She’s already downed it before he gets to the end of the sentence. She tips her head back, drawing air into her lungs. “Thanks.” Her voice is still hoarse. Ragged.

“Shower, then,” he murmurs, walking her into the bathroom. He feels her start to relax against him, her body growing looser, as he opens the curtain and turns on the tap.

“Thanks,” she whispers again, her head tucked beneath his chin. His fingers itch with restraint; he’d do anything, he thinks, to hold her against him. To press a kiss to her temple. To tell her he loves her and that she’s beautiful and perfect and he’s sorry, so sorry, that any of this happened and—

She peers up at him, her eyes more focused now, less wide-eyed and horror-struck. “Would you stay here?” she asks, biting her lip. “While I shower? Just so I’m not—”

“‘Course.” Harry swallows, putting her on her feet. She lands with unintentional grace, one foot after the next.

“And can you… erm.” She turns her back to him, lifting her hair above her zipper. His hands shake as he reaches for the clasp. He knows the exact shape of her back as he slides it down, over the middle bump of her white bra strap. He nearly unstraps that for her, too, before he catches himself. It reeks of intimacy, doesn’t it? All of this…

His eyes linger on the soft swell of her bum before he turns around, self-disgust hammering in his throat.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” he adds feebly. He balls his hands into fists as her dress hits the floor… followed by her bra. And her knickers.

“Not your fault,” she croaks, stepping into the shower. He smiles, his glasses fogging up as he moves to sit on the closed toilet seat. Even covered in blood and traumatized, she can't bring herself to blame him.

She finishes several minutes later.

“Erm… towel?” She shuts the water off. “Could you?”

“Sure,” he soothes, thrusting one through the curtain. “D’you want me to leave, or…?”

Ginny manages a weak snort. “Nah. Nothing you haven’t seen before.”

He chuckles at the door as he turns around again. She’s right, of course; he knows every bloody inch of her… but it’s not quite the same now.

There’s a tap on his shoulder. He whips around to face her. Admittedly, she looks… better. The blood’s gone. Her eyes are still red-rimmed from sobbing, but she’s looking a bit less like a woman who witnessed a death. Which reminds him…

“Erm. Give me a second to get it all cleaned up?”

Ginny shudders and settles on the toilet seat; he immediately kicks himself for asking. “Yeah,” she says a moment later. “Just… come get me, ok? When you’re done?”

He nods.

___________________________

It can’t be later than 10 PM when he finally carries her to the bed, still wrapped in a towel.

He’s exhausted from the nights on the sofa, but he knows she’s worse off. He’s cleaned the bedroom fairly well, he thinks, considering. There’s a rust-colored stain above the closet that he reckons won’t go anywhere anytime soon. He just hopes she doesn’t see it.

He rests her on the duvet surface, fully prepared to head downstairs for the night— but the pleading look on her face informs him he’s got other plans, instead. So without sharing a single word, he spreads his palms, lies beside her, and waits.

It comes eventually, as he knew it would. One person can’t deal with all that, see all that, without eventually cracking. And as a fellow fucked-up individual, he would know.

It starts as simple tears, ones that he wipes away. It progresses into sobs… full-body sobs. The sort he heard coming up the stairs. He’s surprised she’s got any left, but Ginny’s always been the sort to keep him on his toes. And just as her water-dark hair starts to dry and sprout red tendrils, he faces the thing he expected least of all: a kiss.

She starts softly. Slowly. Her lips so tender and soft that he forgets everything. She moans against his mouth, her whole body leaning into it; he’s instantly reminded of how much he’s fucking missed her. How lonely he’s been. How could he have forgotten the tiny mewl she makes in the back of her throat as her tongue parts his lips? He must’ve blocked it out, he realizes, as she begins to slide her body against him, panting, as she tips her head back. His lips trail down her neck, nibbling and biting, as she grips his arms and hair and bum. Because if he’d remembered all of these little details, he’d have gone mad long ago.

He’s throbbing hard by the time he gets to the tail end of her towel, which brushes the tip of her thighs. He tries to adjust himself, to—

“You can take it out, you know.”

Oh. He blinks up at her, his breath freezing in his throat. She’s peering down at him, her lips red and swollen.

“I know you’re hard,” she adds, her voice still raw. “So if it’s uncomfortable… take it out.”

He arches a brow from his position at her thigh. He’s about to retort with something snappy. Something that might keep them bantering for ages. But Ginny has no patience.

“Please.” It’s nearly a command. She blinks down with glassy eyes, her lips swollen. “I want you, Harry.”

Fuck. He groans, rubbing his cock against his palm to relieve some of the pressure. It doesn’t help for long, not that it matters; he’d rather focus on her, anyway. So with a slip of his fingers, the towel opens. She releases a breathy moan, tipping her head back.

Naked.

She’s finally naked. In front of him. His breathing grows ragged, his eyes scanning the territory somehow both totally familiar and completely new. She is thinner; he was right. Her hip bones jut out now, her stomach more sunken. But most of her is the same. The smattering of freckles on her chest. The way her breasts have puckered and darkened, the way her chest is rising and falling so fast. The thatch of dark red hair at the apex of her thighs.

“Well,” she quips. He blinks up at her as she reclines on her elbow. “Are you going to fuck me, Harry, or just stare all day?”

With that, he removes his glasses and gives her a smirk— her only real warning— before he kisses her one more time, just as his fingers spread her thighs.

She opens beneath him with a breathy sigh. Fuck, she’s so wet… he groans into her mouth as he dips his fingers further and further down. She’s dripping by the time he finds her clit… by the time he begins to swirl in tight circles. Clockwise. The pattern that screams of such intimate familiarity that it’s as if the years never passed.

He’s scarcely done anything, but she’s already writhing against his fingers, arching her back. “Please,” she slurs after a minute, “put them in.”

He’s never been one to deny her, has he?

It’s like muscle memory how quickly he finds his face between her thighs instead. He spares a moment of self-indulgence as he closes his eyes, breathing her in. She smells like home. She always has. It’s comfort… but more than that, it’s proof. Proof she wants him as much as he wants her. It’s why he stuffed his face in her knickers whenever he got a spare moment on the Horcrux hunt: one hand on that black lace, the other pulling at his cock. It’s bloody erotic, seeing proof of how much she wants him… but it’s more than that.

It’s love.

And despite all the things he’s forgotten tonight, he’d never forget this. He presses two fingers inside her, his hands shaking, and lets his body do the rest. Fuck, he’s missed this. She cries out above him, her hands grasping at his hair, tugging him closer. He’s never forgotten this… the way she tastes. The way she smells. The right way to run his tongue against her clit. Exactly how many fingers she needs, pressed against her just there… crooked in a certain position… just as she begins to thrust herself up and down on them, her cries growing louder, more insistent… and yesssss, there it is, she’s right there, right fucking there—

“Harry!” Her hair rubs against the pillow with abandon. “I’m… I’m so close,” she pants, her body starting to shake.

“Come for me,” he commands, his cock fit to burst, his face slippery. “Come for me, Ginny.”

He returns to her clit for a split-second before she says the words that change everything.

Her whole body tenses, a blush spreading up her chest. “I love you!” she cries, her voice strangled… and with that, she’s coming, clenching around him, her body shaking as he rides her through it.

What he doesn’t tell her is that he comes, too. The second those words wash over him. Those fucking words that prove he’s fucked up, fucked up, fucked up… but he can’t exactly help that, can he?

He just shoves his face into the duvet, thrusting his hips once, twice, and with a grunt, he’s off. His cock tightens and bursts, filling his boxers. Soaking through his jeans. He pulls back, dizzy, when the clenching finally stops.

Luckily, she seems too distracted to notice. Ginny’s half-asleep as he rises from between her thighs, pulling the blanket over her. He presses a kiss to her temple and makes quick work of removing his soggy clothes. Fairly embarrassing, this. Like he’s 16 again and rutting on the lawn.

He mutters a quick cleaning charm and changes into basketball shorts before settling down beside her in bed… making sure he’s on top of the duvet.

But as he drifts off, there’s something far less sentimental that hammers through his chest: They need to get their shit sorted.

Before he ever, ever lets that happen again.