#it appears to still be working but do i want to risk the cringe of trying to draw

[samijey]

.

[tragedybunny]

Fun Astarion idea:

Tav finds a wish spell (does the Deck of Many Things behind Astarion's back and gets insanely lucky), and offers to use it to cure his Vampirism.

He would probably be annoyed at them for risking that, at least.

This one ended up short and sweet anon, but I didn't want to belabor it because I think it would be gilding the lily.

As requested, Tav draws from the Deck Many Things, Astarion is less than thrilled.

Gambles and Wishes - F!Reader x Astarion

“Astarion,” you pound on the door to your home’s library until you thought it would break. 

“I’m still not talking to you,” he shouts back, not even getting close to the door. 

It was locked from the inside and you consider an unlocking spell for a moment but stop. The lock was a boundary, and you hated to cross his boundaries, he didn’t get to have any for so long. Instead you opt to groan in frustration. “Please, this isn’t the healthiest way to solve our problems.”

“Neither is lying, but that didn’t stop you,” he shoots back and you cringe because he’s technically right. 

“It wasn’t lying so much as not telling. And see, you’re talking to me so why don’t we stop shouting through the door.” To be honest, it was starting to make you nervous, he’d never been angry at you for this long before. Maybe your good intentions had taken things too far. “Please Love, Starry Sky,” your voice shakes. 

The noise of the lock opening causes your heart to leap, but you're not sure if it’s dread or elation, so you just stand there, arms crossed around yourself until the door opens. Astarion stares at you with watery red eyes, “is that really how you want this relationship to work?”

“No, you’re right, but the possible reward was too great to deny.” Why can’t he understand, you’d do anything for him?

“So was the risk, you pulled a card from the Deck of Many things. You know magic, you know what could’ve happened.” He’s not shouting anymore, it’s so much worse. He’s barely whispering the words, and the tears are finally starting to spill over. “And you didn’t even consult me, we’re supposed to be equals in this.” 

So much for those boundaries you didn’t want to cross, the realization started to eat you up inside. Protecting him wasn’t a good excuse anymore. “I’m so sorry. It’s just that I would risk anything for you and I knew you wouldn’t let me.” 

Even amidst all the pain, the two of you find yourselves holding onto each other. “Sunlight, that’s because you always take risks for me. You need to worry more about yourself sometimes.” He sniffles into your shoulder, and you hope his tears are drying as you stroke his hair. 

“I know, last one I promise. But I got what I wanted, one Wish spell, we can have the life we thought was impossible.” The life you wanted so badly to give him, the life he deserved. 

Stepping back from you, he appraises you seriously. “Are you sure this is what you would use it on? You could have an Empire, become a Goddess. Not that you aren’t already, especially when it comes too- ” he smiles lasciviously. 

“Astarion,” playfully you smack his shoulder, “behave yourself. And yes this is the only thing I could think of using it on. I couldn’t wish for anything more than you.”  

“You’re still a silly girl who’s too nice to me.” New tears appear in his eyes you notice, but for an entirely different reason. “Well then I accept, on one condition of course.”

“And what is that?” 

“You promise you’re stuck with me as long as we both live. I’m not used to being alive of course, I’m going to need someone to keep an eye on me for a long time. And let’s be honest, you’re the most qualified. I don’t think any of our friends would really be able to handle it.” 

He’s rambling but you know it’s because he’s nervous, so you lean over and kiss him softly. “Deal. Now let’s make you an un-undead Love.” 

[narcissisticmf]

don't fret | matt sturniolo x fem!reader

request: ""go away." "that's the last thing you need from me right now." matt sturniolo plss🫶🏼🫶🏼" from anonymous

description: when y/n is feeling overwhelmed, matt decides the best thing she needs is comfort.. and sleep.

trigger warnings: mentions of anxiety, angst, etc. read at your own risk.

word count: <1k

Your fingers danced across the keyboard of your laptop as you felt your eyes growing weary. They struggled to stay open. Shifting your gaze up, you glanced at the clock and saw that it read 2:54 AM. You released a gently sigh from your parted chapped lips and returned your attention to the silver screen.

Despite being on winter break, there was still a lot of work you had to do for some of your classes and other personal things you needed to get done. You'd been staying at the Sturniolo's house in Los Angeles for a little while, to visit Matt while you'd been on break. But it didn't exactly feel like you'd gotten much of a break.

"Y/N/N?" Matt appeared into the kitchen, where you sat at the table. He looked tired and his voice was groggy. The light over the table was on, while the rest of the house was dark.

"Sorry, was I too loud?" You cringed your teeth and stopped typing for a moment as your weary gaze was on Matt.

"No, I was just thirsty, why're you up?" He asked as he led himself to the fridge to grab a bottle of water. It wasn't long before he shut it and with the plastic bottle in hand, he made his way to the table and sat beside you.

"I just have a lot going on that I need to take care of," You whispered, not wanting to wake Nick or Chris.

"Did you take a break at all?" Matt asked.

"No, there's no time for a break, I have to get this stuff done," You replied before returning your gaze to the computer and typed away again.

"Y/N," Matt started, but you ignored him and focused on the words you were typing into the document. However, those words would later be read as gibberish since your brain was completely fried, you could almost smell the burnt gears within your head.

"Hey," He poked your side, but you didn't budge. "Sweetheart, come on, you should really take a break. Too much work in one sitting isn't healthy."

"No, I need to do this," You replied, the exhaustion was evident in your placid tone.

"No, you don't," Matt stated and gripped your laptop, sliding it away from you on the table.

"Come on, Matt, I'm not kidding, give it back," You looked at him with annoyance.

"No," He shook his head.

You grumbled, "Why won't you just go away?"

"That's the last thing you need from me right now," Matt replied and gently closed the laptop. You watched his movements and sighed, too exhausted to fight him.

"Go to bed," He spoke quietly.

"Okay, but tomorrow, I'm getting right back on it whether you like it or not," You said with a subtle raspiness coming through.

"Yeah, whatever, just get some sleep," Matt smiled. You returned the gesture, sleepily. He took the laptop off the table and stood up from his chair. He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to your temple. "Love you," He muttered.

"I love you too," You replied with a sleepily grin.

.

a/n: hi cuties!! thank you so much for this request and for taking part in my event! i still can't believe i hit 1k 🥹 i love you guys so much and i hope this piece was good and was what you were hoping for! be safe, my dears and happy new year! <3 — angelina.

[hayleythesugarbowl]

I loved the angela giarratana x reader headcanons you did i hope it’s not too much for me to ask if you can do a full on story if you can’t that’s fine I understand if you need an ideal what about reader getting really close to someone from smosh and Angela miss reading it think reader liked them or something plz 😊😊😊😊

Misread Signs || Angela Giarratana x reader

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • smosh masterlist ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧⋆

summary: oneshot where you start to become really close with courtney, and angela takes this as a sign that you aren’t interested in her, until unusual circumstances cause you both to realize each other’s feelings

word count: 2.2k

warnings: none

a/n: thank you so much for this request babe, i love angela so much and i was so happy to write for her!! hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy this <3🍓🎀

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey, (Y/n)!” 

     Courtney greeted you as you fell into step beside her. You had been called to set earlier than, in your opinion, was natural for any human being to be awake. Courtney however was as bubbly as ever. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes, smiling at her enthusiasm. 

     “Hi, Court.” You had only been friends with Courtney for a few weeks, ever since you had moved from Smosh editor to cast member and she’d taken you under her wing, but it felt like you had known her for much longer. 

     You plopped down in the first chair you found, waiting for the rest of the cast to arrive. Courtney sat down next to you, pulling out her phone as you two began talking about what shoots were scheduled for the day, starting with TNTL. 

     A motion to your right caught your eye and you looked up.

     “Angela!” Courtney exclaimed.

     Angela set her bag down and looked over at you and Courtney, smiling, coffee in hand.

     “Hey guys, how are we today?” 

     Was it too much to hope that one of these times she would look only at you? Ask how you were doing? You let out a small sigh and Courtney gave you a sympathetic look. 

     It felt like ever since you started working at Smosh you had been chasing Angela’s attention. Hoping she would notice you. Finding excuses to talk to her. Striking up conversation with her in hopes that one day she would miraculously ask you out. She hadn’t. 

     Yet. 

     But you were starting to loose hope that you would ever become anything more than…acquaintances? You liked to think you’d started to become friends. That she liked you. But it had been hard to constantly see her act the same around everyone else as she did with you.

     And then when you became a member of the cast, you and Courtney had started to become close. She listened to you vent for hours about getting nowhere with Angela and you enjoyed her friendship. 

     Now, she grabbed your wrist, bringing you back to the present. 

     “(Y/n), you good?” She looked at you knowingly.

     You shook the wistful look off your face and said, “Yeah, I’m ok. It’s nothing new.”

     Your friend put a hand on your shoulder, “Hey, I don’t know. I still have faith in you two.” She gestured between you and Angela. “I mean you’re both gorgeous, so why hasn’t one of you asked the other one out?”

     You batted her hand away quickly, cringing at her obviousness but laughing despite yourself. 

      “See, there’s the (Y/n) I know and love,” she bumped her shoulder into yours gently.

     “Thanks Court,” you smiled at her. 

     Risking a glance at Angela, you saw she was now in the middle of a conversation with Shayne, laughing at one of his jokes—lucky bastard— and gesturing animatedly. As if she sensed you looking however, she glanced over at you and Courtney, a thoughtful expression appearing on her face before she smiled and turned back to Shayne and the few other people who had started to gather near them. 

     “Ooh, stolen glances!” Courtney sing-songed. 

     By then, most of the cast had now arrived and you heard someone shout, “Quiet on set,” and then, “could someone please grab the boxes labeled ‘new props’ from the storage room?’”

     “I’ll do it,” Angela called out enthusiastically, “Anyone want to come with?”

     Always offering to help. It was yet another one of the reasons you liked her so much.

     “(Y/n) will!” Courtney volunteered. You shot her a look and she gave you a mischievous one back.

     “Ok, great!” Angela said as you walked over towards her, simultaneously cursing and thanking Courtney in your head. 

      The silence was deafening. For all of about 12 seconds before Angela broke it, saying, “So, you ready for today? Early call time today, I know you hate mornings!”

      You nodded, but it caught you off guard that she would have remembered such a small detail about you. You figured you must have mentioned it at some point.

     “Ok, help me out. I’ve worked here for a year now and I still don’t know to get to the storage room.” She laughed and you laughed with her.

     “Down this hallway on the left,” you pointed ahead of you. You’d been working here a few months less than Angela but you felt like you pretty much knew your way around the place. You stopped in front of your destination and opened the door, stepping into a room full of bins of colorful props and costumes 

     “This reminds me,” Angela started, picking up a feather boa, “Hear me out, I have this idea for a bit.”

     She picked up the boa and draped it around her shoulders, grabbing a nurse’s hat and leaning dramatically against the door, pushing it shut. “A dental hygienist who should’ve been on broadway!”

     You laughed as she began singing off-key showtunes. 

     “Brava!”

     “Alright, we’d better get back,” she said, still keeping the boa on her shoulders. 

     You both grabbed a bin and you went to push the door open but it wouldn’t budge. You put the box you were holding down and jiggled the handle with more force.

     “Uh, Angela? We might have a problem,” you said.

     You both inspected the door, and when it was decided that you were in fact stuck, you sat down on a box and Angela followed. 

     “Ok, we can figure this out,” you said. “Do you have your phone?”

     She shook her head. “Left it in my bag. You?”

     “Left it with Courtney.”

     Angela nodded, but looked down. After a moment she said, with a hint of a smile on her face, “Well, that only leaves one option.” 

     She got up quickly and began banging her fist on the door, shouting. “Hey! Hello? Can anyone hear us? We’re kinda trapped in here!” 

     You joined her. After a few minutes though, you realized your efforts were fruitless and you both stopped, sitting back down again.

     “Well, seeing as we’re stuck in here for the foreseeable future,” Angela started, “wanna play a game or something?”

     “Sure.”

     “Alright, I spy, with my little eye, something blue,” she said.

     “The pool noodle?”

     “Dang it! That was supposed to take longer,” she threw the boa at you. You picked up the thing nearest to you—a stuffed frog—and threw it at her, draping her boa around your shoulders and posing dramatically as she had. It smelled like her, and your heart fluttered. 

     You enjoyed this, you couldn’t help but admit to yourself. You hadn’t actually talked to Angela in weeks. It was nice to have an excuse to spend time with her. Even if it was a bit awkward, and you were sweating, and locked in a storage closet for who knows how long. You looked at her and tried not to stare at her eyes, and how the lighting in the room made them sparkle. 

     An awkward silence descended, and you began pulling feathers off of the boa to pass the time. The seconds ticked by.

     “Ok, it’s been like 10 minutes now. They cannot start tntl without us because then who’ll see my broadway dentist bit?” Angela stood up.

     “Well, I saw it, and I loved it, for what it’s worth. And I’m sure someone will come looking for us soon. Courtney has my phone and my coffee so she’ll realize when she sees them, right?”

     Angela sat back down and you began inspecting your shoes.

    “So, you and Court, huh?” You looked up and found Angela watching you intently, waiting for an answer. She began pulling at a loose thread on her sweatshirt. 

     “What?”

     “I just, figured you two were a thing. I mean you spend so much time together and it just seemed like…” 

     Again, what? You blinked. “Um, no, Courtney and I are friends but—”

     “Oh, sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed,” she interrupted, “I just—you guys seem really close.”

     “No, it’s ok,” you assured her, “I’m just a single pringle.” You internally slapped yourself. Why, why were you like this?

     “Same!” She gave you a high five. You internally groaned. Why, why was she like this? 

     “So,” she continued, “got your eye on somebody else then?”

     “Oh, I don’t know l—” you started.

     “C’mon,” she nudged your shoe with hers, “we never catch up anymore!”

     Because we’re both busy. Because we  didn’t make an effort. Because I didn’t think you felt the same way about me as I felt about you.

     Instead, you just sighed. You did not want to have this conversation with her, especially when you didn’t exactly want to tell her the answer. But the opportunity to talk with her was too inviting. This was what you wanted, wasn’t it?

     “There might be…someone?” You didn’t want to give her any more information than that. You couldn’t.

     “I knew it!” She shrieked. “So, who are they?”

     “Well, they’re beautiful and talented and funny…”

     “Sounds like a real catch!”

     Yes, you do. “Well, what about you?” You asked, “Doesn’t seem fair that you’re the only one asking the questions,” you smiled.

      She raised up her arms in defeat, “Ok, caught me! There is someone.” 

      Great, You thought. Just my luck. 

     “Well, anyone would be lucky to be with you,” you told her.

     “Thanks, I appreciate it,” Angela answered you, “you’re not too bad yourself.”

     She leaned in for a hug, and you hugged her back, savoring this moment—even if she was telling you about someone else that she had feelings for. 

     Suddenly, the door to the storage room opened and a worried Courtney, followed by Shayne appeared.

     “Angela, (Y/n), you’re here!” Courtney said.

     “Yeah, we sort of got locked in,” Angela answered her.

     “We were getting worried—and waiting on you,” Shayne teased, and then looked between the two of you, pulling back from your embrace. “Oh, good you finally told (Y/n) how you feel! See, told you it’d go well!”

     You narrowed your eyes at Shayne, “What?”

     The look of panic on Shayne’s face was nothing compared to that of Angela’s.

     You turned to her, “What’s he talking about?”

     Courtney jumped in, “Shayne and I should be getting back to set. We’ll see you there.” She looked at her friend pointedly.

     “Right,” Shayne ran a hand through his hair, “glad you guys are ok, we’ll just be—” he pointed in front of him towards the hallway and, picking up a box of props, left with Courtney.

     “I’m going to kill him,” Angela clenched her fist.

     “Well,” you prompted.

     “Right, um…” Angela paused. You had never seen her speechless before. She seemed at a loss for words and it shocked you to see her this way and not her usual outgoing, confident self.

     “So,” she continued, “what Shayne was referring to was, um, well I told him earlier that I—Ok, just gonna rip off the bandage… I may or may not have a teeny, tiny, crush on you.”

     You could hardly believe what you were hearing. Angela what? This whole time you had just assumed she didn’t return your feelings.

     “Say something?” She prompted

     “When?” Was all you managed.

     “A while…”

     You couldn’t breathe. Then something clicked. “And when you were talking about liking someone just a second ago…”

     “Bingo,” she gave you a wry smile, “you the whole time. Surprise!”

     “I don’t know what to say, I—”

     “It’s ok, I don’t expect—anything, I—well this isn’t exactly how I planned on having this conversation but,” she threw her hands up, “now you know!”

      “Angela I—” 

     “I was planning on asking you out sometime, I really was. But then I saw how close you were getting with Courtney and I thought—I don’t know.”

     “Courtney and I are nothing more than friends. She’s like a sister to me. In fact, most of our friendship was spent talking about you,” you admitted.

     Now it was Angela’s turn to be confused. “What?”

     You didn’t know what got into you then. Maybe it was the time you’d spent on the storage room. Or maybe it was knowing Angela liked you and seeing the way she was looking at you right now. But, one way or another, you figured now was a good a time as any.

     “I like you too…a lot, actually. I have ever since you started working here and I never told you because I never imagined you could feel the same way and I just think you’re so beautiful and talented and smart and—”

     You never got to finish that sentence because suddenly Angela was kissing you, and you were kissing her back. She put her arms around your back, pulling you close, and you put your hands in her hair. You almost forgot about where you were or that you were needed on set. Almost.              

     “Shouldn’t we get back?” you pulled away and lifted a thumb towards the door. “They’re probably waiting for us.”

     “They’ve waited this long for us, what’s another minute or two.” She joked. 

     She smiled and then she was kissing you again, more passionately this time. You let all of your other thoughts go, enjoying the moment. 

     And it was perfect. 

     Just you, and Angela, and a closet full of fake limbs, animal onesies, and giant hats with googly eyes. You felt like you’d been waiting for this moment for months. 

     And maybe, she had too. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ˋ°•*⁀➷ hope you enjoyed this!! let me know if you have any other smosh requests!! 🍒🪩

[hiro--aoki]

TWD Incorrect Quotes from my classmates

Tw: contains swear words, mention of sex, use of slut and maybe some other offense things, idk

Michonne: Because your minds are still developing you want to….

Y/N: Do drugs!

Michonne: Take more risks…

Y/N: Nah…

Michonne: A risk is any unsafe action or stupid, thoughtless and careless behaviour.

Carl to Y/N: Literally me.

*Coughs that sound like an erupting volcano*

Abraham: My tummy hurts.

Michonne: Can you name three risks?

Merle: Sex with no protection!

Carl: A gun with no safety on!

Y/N: Having a forehead as big as Merle’s!

Deanna: So, we have codes A, C and D.

Rick: Why not code B? Where’s the B????

Aaron: B-cause.

Glenn: You should b- ashamed of yourself…. I’m not funny

Maggie: You’re not funny

Deanna: So, code A stands for….?

Daryl: Ass!

Eugene: Acceptable!

Aaron: Yeah *fistbump*

Y/N: Nerd!

Deanna: What about code C?

Maggie: Coffee.

Eugene: Calculated!

Deanna: Yes! How about code D?

Abraham: Deez nuts!

Sasha: Dangerous!

Carol: Destructive!

Deanna: Yeah! You guys concern me!

Y/N: Ron, shut up you acoustic monk.

Glenn: Guys I accidentally wrote relationhips instead of relationships.

Carl: Y/N, has relationhips.

Y/N: What’s that supposed to mean?!?!

Y/N: Carl, has a shirt that says ‘ Roblox is life’ shirt, and he said it suits me.

Negan: Feel how soft my water bottle is.

Simon: Stop stroking your water bottle like that!

Michonne: What’s something that was legal, but was a destructive decision?

Merle: Weed!

Enid: I wanna jump off a cliff.

Y/N: I wanna kiss a 12 gauge.

Enid: My dad jumped out of a plane without a parachute…

Carl: My dad is a plane.

Andrea: My butt hurts.

Dale: *Gives strange look*

Andrea: You’re looking at me like you wanna fuck me.

Dale: What?

Shane: Ha!

Dale: No, I actually didn’t hear.

Amy: Real.

Negan: Did you wash your ass today?

Michonne: So, tell me an example of a safety risk?

Merle: Your mom

Michonne: …and some conatin cannabis

Judith: These gummies tastes funny.

*Watching a budget direct ad and Captain Risky comes on*

Jesus: Smash

Ron: Bro’s him

Daryl: I mean he has all the skills

Carl: Bluds the main character

Y/N: You look like a potato

Dwight: You look like a trash can

Y/N: Nuh uh

Dwight: Yeah uh

Negan: Dwight, keep working *Lightly caresses the shovel Dwight’s hand*

Y/N: Stop!

Dwight: Stop it I don’t like it!

Y/N: Yes, we are Sluts

Rosita: Sexy Ladies Under Tonnes of Stress

Y/N: I can’t make a decision that big, I can’t even tie my own shoes!

Enid: Please tell me you’re joking.

Y/N: I’m not, I tie them like a three-year old! Let me show you!

Enid: No, no thanks…

Y/N: Watch my feet! Watch my shoes. *Ties laces with two loops*

Enid: Ew *visibly cringes*

Carl: …I just asked if you wanted pancakes or waffles….

Glenn: Look how much funny shit we said today.

Daryl: I can’t it’s too black

Glenn: Ayo?

Daryl: I meant too dark!

Y/N: Nah!

*Glenn adjusts lighting*

Daryl: Now it’s too white!

Y/N: !!!

Daryl: Too bright! Too bright!

Negan: BALLS

Y/N: Gotta rizz ‘em with the ‘tism

Negan: I’m a Savior….save ya mom!

*Carl and Ron carrying a log*

Enid: For a second I thought that was in their ass’s

Y/N: I want them up my ass

Enid: What?

Y/N: What?

*Truck passes*

Daryl: Awww yeah, listen to tha’

Y/N: I can smell the air…

Daryl: No shit, sherlock!

Glenn: Don’t judge a book by it’s-

Eugene: Erm actually, it’s in the human instincts system, for us to make a quick judgement on a person appearance to determine whether they are friend or foe.

Y/N: Oooh, did I appear friend or foe when you first saw me?

Eugene: Well, when I first encountered you, you looked like you couldn’t hurt a fly, but since then, I have realised my mistake and have grown scared of you.

Rosita: He’s scared of everything…

Eugene: Not pickles!

Beth: What song do you wear?

[bibliophilesince2003]

Do you enjoy (Star Wars) Bad Batch? Do you want to read a fan-fiction focused on an original character who is forced to work with the Bad Batch in order to save Omega and put a dent in an original antagonist's plan? Do you enjoy books with a sense of adventure and mystery, with wholesome, saddening, and comedic moments in between?

I enjoy reading fan-fiction from time to time, and I've always been a writer. However, I was shocked to find that most Bad Batch fan-fiction is either incomplete or a romance between a member of the Bad Batch and an original character. I wanted to write something not focused on romance, but focused on a realistic situation with realistic conversation.

Since I couldn't find it, I wrote it. Started in November of 2023, I finished the book in February of this year (2024) and am very proud of it. In fact, I am working on book two... a book following the events of book one.

What is it called and where can I find it, you ask? Well, here are the links to Star Wars: The Bad Batch - Keeper's Arena. I have it posted on Wattpad and Archive of Our Own, so it depends on your preference. On Wattpad, it has reached 3k reads. I appreciate all the love and support the people on Wattpad have given me; they were there when I first started. It has only recently been posted on Archive of Our Own; it has a very small amount of clicks at the moment.

Still need some convincing? Here's a snippet from an earlier chapter:

This was a very bad idea. Jade hastily broke off another piece of bread, hoping to finish soon or that the topic would change. She heard the doors open, and a hush came over the crowd, even as the electronic music continued to pulse, and the lights flashed. Jade risked a look over her shoulder, then looked away, her nerves spiking.

Omega's brothers.

She felt guilty and a bit worried. Did they believe the rumors going around? Did they know what she looked like? She assumed they began walking at a casual, non-threatening pace, as the chatter increased in volume again.

"Please don't come over here, please don't –"

Jade's inward begging would do no good; they were already heading for the counter. Jade lifted her face and tried to relax. If she didn't want them to notice her, she needed to be as calm as possible. She stopped tapping her foot, realizing she was doing it without thinking. Jade glanced to her left as the one with the bandana arrived at the counter first, waiting for the bartender. The one with the prosthetic arm was paying close attention to the bartender's conversation with the other men, frowning. Well, that wasn't a good sign. Jade drank more water, finishing it off. As long as she got out in time, she would be fine. She hoped the bartender would stay with the men a bit longer, but he noticed his new guests, coming to face the one with the bandana.

"Alright, men. What are you having?"

"We're looking for someone," the leader of the group – it seemed – stated.

"Do I look like a directory?" the bartender scoffed, clearly annoyed with the appearance of multiple unique guests.

"Maybe those men know more about it than you do," the frowning one pointed to the other side of the counter, where the three men discussing rumors with the bartender were seated.

"You mean that girl that was snatched?" the bartender questioned, turning his head to raise his voice. "Joe, what did you hear about this?"

Joe sighed, throwing up his hands. Jade carefully pushed her plate away and turned in her seat, staring instead at the booths against the wall. She fumbled a bit as she closed up her thigh bag, and the stool made a quiet squeak. Jade cringed, but she couldn't feel any eyes on her. Not yet at least.

"She had some sort of help, or else she was being set up. At any rate, she wasn't alone."

Jade froze, knowing what would come next.

"There was a woman with her, an older teenager. In fact, I'm almost entirely sure that's her, at the end of the counter. Whatever you're going to do, grab her fast. She doesn't look like much, and she keeps to herself, but she's armed."

He was talking in hushed tones, and Jade wasn't sure if she had even heard him right, but there was no mistaking the shuffle of feet.

"So much for being done with running for the day," Jade thought, and she slid off of the stool and ran, straight for the door.

[nerdzzone]

Worlds Apart

Chapter Five

Summary: Single mom, Bridget Clark, thought that she was fine by herself. Moving her son to a new town and out of the hustle and bustle of Boston, she thought that life would be quieter and simpler, but a chance encounter with a certain Hollywood actor only a week after their big move had her questioning everything. Bridget was faced with the ultimate decision of head vs heart, but would letting her guard down prove to be worth the risk?

Series Masterlist

-----

Waking up the morning after her birthday, Bridget was immediately reminded of why tequila shots were rarely a good idea for anyone over the age of twenty-two. Her head was pounding, it felt like it weighed far more than it usually did, and even simply rolling over had her feeling like her brain was going to burst out of her skull. She reached for the glass of water on the nightstand, taking a few big swigs in an attempt to get rid of some of the dryness in her mouth and she was relieved when her stomach didn’t turn and immediately attempt to force it back out. She might have been a far cry from feeling her best, but she’d definitely had much worse hangovers in her life and she was grateful for that small win.

However, a wave of dread washed over her as the memories of the end of their night came back to her. Frantically grabbing her phone, she was hoping to find that the messages she remembered sending had all been a dream, but the several notifications of messages from Chris confirmed that it was all true. She was torn about whether she should read what he had to say or just assume that she’d embarrassed herself enough that he no longer wanted anything to do with her, but eventually her curiosity got the best of her and she opened their conversation.

The first thing that caught her eye was the picture of his face that popped up on the screen. He looked tired and like he’d had a very long day, but he was handsome nonetheless. The visible neckline of the t-shirt he was wearing and the soft light in the room told her that he must have sent it after he was home for the night and the timestamp confirmed her suspicions as she realized his reply had come long after she’d fallen asleep.

After staring at - and appreciating - the picture for longer than she was willing to admit, she tore her gaze away to focus on the message that accompanied it.

Sorry for the late reply, it’s been a long and busy night. Not sure my face is quite up to Paul’s standard, but who am I to deny the birthday girl?

The picture came through after that message, but it was followed by another.

I think it’s only fair that I get a picture in return though, don’t you? I have a theory that I’d like to prove and it would really help me out.

Her curiosity was piqued, but the heavy feeling of residual mascara around her eyes and the crunch of leftover hairspray in her hair despite its current out of control style had her cringing at the thought. A glance at the clock told her it was just before ten - a fact that surprised her considering her routine usually made it impossible for her to sleep after eight even on days she didn’t work or have Landon - which meant it was just after seven where Chris was on the west coast. Feeling comforted by the time difference, Bridget answered him.

A theory? What would that be?

She assumed she had plenty of time - especially if Chris was up late - to relax and freshen up before he answered, but she’d barely had enough time to snuggle back down under the blankets next to her still snoring friend and open her other unread messages of delayed birthday well wishes when a notification popped up.

I’ll explain when I get the evidence I need.

Again, her curiosity was getting the best of her as she tried to puzzle out what exactly a picture of her face could be used as evidence for. She was intrigued enough to sit up a little higher in bed and fluff her wild hair as she opened the front camera on her phone. The reflection that appeared on the screen had her dreading the thought of Chris seeing her in her current state, but there was something about the casual picture he’d sent her that made her pause just as she was about to turn her camera off. He definitely still looked great - she doubted there was ever a time when he didn’t - but it was also drastically different to the pictures she’d seen of him on the red carpet earlier that day. His hair was messy, his eyes were tired, it wasn’t a perfectly poised snapshot, and if he was willing to share that vulnerability with her then it had her thinking that maybe she should let her guard down and return the sentiment.

She ruffled her hair a little more in an attempt to shift it from unruly messy to sultry messy and leaned into the hungover look as she stared at the camera and snapped a quick picture. It absolutely wasn’t her best - definitely not a picture she would want to share all over social media - but it wasn’t entirely awful and she quickly sent it before she could change her mind, adding a disclaimer underneath the picture.

I don’t always look so rough in the morning, but I’m currently facing the consequences of drinking over the age of thirty.

Bridget tried not to let the suspense drive her insane as she stared at her phone, desperately hoping that Chris hadn’t fallen back to sleep and wouldn't leave that picture unanswered for a moment longer than necessary, but she was relieved when he once again replied almost immediately.

Haha well that’s the thing! You mentioned something about not being cute after a wild night and I couldn’t imagine that you’re ever not adorable. Turns out I’m right, you’re gorgeous even when you’re hungover.

The giddiness that his words stirred up inside her had her feeling a touch embarrassed by how easily a few sweet words could get under her skin. She felt her cheeks heat up and her smile stretching wide across her face as he seemed so genuine in what he’d said. Of course, it could have just been mindless flirting - she was sure he was well versed in how to charm a woman - but the fact that he’d remembered her offhanded comment enough to circle back to it encouraged her to believe that he was being sincere - even if she wasn’t entirely convinced he was right.

Wow, that is very generous of you to say! I’m glad I wasn’t there to see your actual horrified reaction, but thank you for being so kind.

Wrapped up in the conversation happening on her phone, Bridget hadn’t even realized that Molly was awake until a voice croaked out from the blankets beside her.

“Who are you talking to?” She questioned, her face barely visible as it peaked out from under the duvet. “The ear to ear grin on your face is blinding me.”

“Sorry,” Bridget giggled as she let her phone fall onto the bed beside her. “Well, I’m not really. It’s almost ten so you should be waking up anyway, but I was talking to Chris.”

The blanket lowered slightly as Molly poked her head out of the soft cocoon she’d buried herself in enough for Bridget to see the excitement in her eyes once again.

“You were? What did he say?”

“He was just commenting on how gorgeous I am even when I’m hungover.”

She spoke with a nonchalance that she hadn’t had when sending the picture, but the way that Molly’s eyebrow raised at that information had her biting back more giggles.

“And how would he know that?”

“Because I sent him a picture.”

“Well, that was bold of you,” Molly teased, a smug look on her face as she ventured a little further out from under the blankets just in time to hear Bridget’s indignant scoff. “Not that you don’t look super cute while you’re all ruffled and sleepy, but you must really like him if you’re feeling confident enough to send him a picture so early in the morning after one date.”

“Well, he sent me one last night when he was tired,” she admitted. “So it seemed fair to do the same.”

“That’s adorable,” Molly smiled. “You guys are already disgustingly cute.”

“Shut up,” Bridget blushed. “It’s no big deal.”

“You haven’t been on a date in five years,” Molly reminded her, finally throwing off the blanket completely as she stretched. “And now you’re exchanging selfies with someone you clearly like. That is a big deal and I’m very happy for you.”

Bridget’s first instinct was to roll her eyes, but she knew her old friend was most likely being more sincere than teasing in her excitement so she flashed her a smile instead.

“I’m happy for me too,” she admitted. “I’m really trying not to get too ahead of myself, but he seems really sweet and it’s nice to have someone that I’m excited to talk to.”

“You deserve it,” Molly assured her before adding, “And I deserve some coffee. Do you want some?”

“Yes, please,” Bridget nodded as Molly dragged herself out of bed. “I’ll be out in a sec.”

When Molly had disappeared out of the room, Bridget checked her phone and saw two more messages from Chris.

I’m not being kind, I’m being honest. You’re beautiful.

How were the birthday celebrations?

She answered quickly - not wanting to draw anymore of Molly’s well-intentioned attention to the situation - and explained briefly about her day with Landon, the dinner with her friends, and drinks with Molly before turning the conversation back towards him and asking about the premiere. She briefly wondered if she’d overshared by giving him so much detail instead of sticking to something simple like ‘it was good, thanks for asking’, but when Chris responded to her own question with just as much enthusiasm, she felt more at ease. He informed her that it had been a pretty exciting evening, but shared that he always found the big premieres to be pretty draining. He mentioned the anxiety that he struggled with before every big event and how hard it could be to get out of his own head and really be in the moment in the midst of all the chaos. He assured her that it had all worked out well in the end and been a success overall, but she appreciated his willingness to open up. There was something about Chris that made her want to let her guard down and it was comforting to know that he apparently felt the same way.

They continued their conversation throughout the morning - as Bridget cooked a big, greasy breakfast with Molly and Chris prepared for the day of press he had ahead of him - but it petered out just as Bridget headed home to shower and get some chores done before she had to head back into the city to pick Landon up from daycare. Chris was on her mind for almost the entire drive as she tried once again to understand how someone as kind, interesting, successful, and attractive as he was actually seemed to be as interested in her as she was in him, but just as she was trying to force herself to get a grip back on reality before she got carried away, she pulled up to her house and noticed the almost comically large bouquet of flowers on her doorstep.

Curious about who they could possibly be from, she hurried out of the car and as she read the card that was tucked in between the bright and beautiful arrangement, she felt her heart soar.

Happy Birthday!

Sorry for the belated gift, but everywhere was closed by the time I found out. I hope you had a great day and aren’t feeling too rough this morning.

Chris

-

In the days after her birthday, Bridget and Chris spent almost every free moment they had messaging each other. With Chris busy doing press for the movie and Bridget busy balancing work and her duties as a mom, they’d had to sneak in short conversations whenever possible but Bridget was grateful that Chris was making an effort to reach out at all. However, despite the fact that he was already exceeding her expectations for staying in touch, she had a feeling that it was about to change on the Sunday after her birthday when the press tour went international and he was heading to Beijing.

They’d texted back and forth most of Sunday afternoon after she’d dropped Landon off with his dad, but Chris had to say goodbye early in the evening to board his flight. Bridget had been determined to give him space - let him initiate the conversation so she didn’t bother him or make him feel pressured to reply to him when she knew his schedule would be pretty busy - but she caved almost as soon as she woke up the following morning. Her fingers were practically itching to text him as she opened and closed their conversation at least three times before she decided that it was only polite to send him a message. Not checking in to see if he arrived safely would be pretty rude and she quickly sent him a text before she could change her mind.

After their various conversations over the weekend, she was pretty sure that he would answer her as soon as he could. However, she wasn’t prepared for the way that her phone screen lit up less than a minute later with an incoming call from Chris. A million questions instantly started running through her mind - was it an accident? did he hit the wrong button when he saw the notification of her text? did he mean to call someone else? - but she quickly realized the only way to get any kind of explanation was to answer.

“Hello?”

Her voice was quiet and tentative as if she expected it to be a pocket dial with no one on the other end, but the sound of Chris’ chuckle floating through the phone immediately put her at ease.

“You sound tired,” he informed her. “Did I wake you up?”

“No,” she assured him before pointing out, “I texted you first.”

“Good point,” he admitted. “But is this okay?”

“Yeah,” Bridget smiled. “It’s really nice to hear your voice.”

“Yours too. I was gonna text you back, but I’m pretty exhausted so I thought this might be easier.”

His admission had a frown sliding onto Bridget’s face.

“If you’re exhausted then you should get some sleep…”

“I’m trying to stay up a little longer,” he assured her. “I wanna beat the jetlag a little.”

“Oh, that makes sense. What time is it there?”

“Almost seven-thirty in the evening.”

Bridget glanced at the clock beside her bed and saw that it was also almost seven-thirty for her.

“So you’re twelve hours ahead?” She questioned, waiting for him to confirm before she asked him another question. “How was your flight?”

“It was long,” Chris sighed. “I was hoping to sleep, but it was pretty turbulent so I kept waking up.”

“I hate when that happens,” Bridget sympathized. “But if you didn’t sleep much on your way there then maybe you’ll adjust to the time difference even if you go to sleep now?”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?”

He’d tried to sound offended, but Bridget could hear the smile in his voice.

“No,” she giggled. “I’m trying to be considerate.”

“Well, thanks, but I’d rather stay awake a little bit longer,” he insisted, pausing slightly before adding, “Especially if I get to talk to you.”

The words had Bridget’s breath catching in her throat as she felt an increasingly familiar goofy grin slide onto her face.

“You’re such a charmer,” she teased, earning another chuckle from Chris. “So, do you get to bunk alone or does Marvel make you guys share rooms?”

“They’re pretty generous,” Chris admitted. “I’m not sure about everyone, but most of us get our own rooms.”

“Ah, yes, all the big superstars have to be spoiled, I guess.”

She hoped he could hear the teasing edge to her tone and was relieved when he went along with her joke.

“Yeah, well, you know what a diva I am.” The smirk in his voice was clear and Bridget bit her lip to hold back another giggle as he continued. “But it does have some drawbacks.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, I hate being alone in hotel room beds,” he admitted. “They’re always so cold and stiff.”

“Are you wishing you had someone to break it in with?”

“Not like that,” Chris chuckled, grasping what she was implying. “But it would be nice to have someone to warm up with, maybe cuddle a little.”

“Yeah? And which of your co-stars were you hoping they’d make you share a room with to help you with that?”

“You’re hilarious,” Chris drawled sarcastically. “I actually had someone else in mind. How do you feel about cuddling?”

“I love it,” she confessed, feeling a wave of yearning wash over her touch starved body just at the thought of being wrapped up in his arms and pressed tightly against his side. “Do you?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty physical with my affection.” The images that his words conjured up in her mind doused her in a flood of heat that was followed by a flush of embarrassment that she was clearly so desperate for any of the affection he was willing to offer. “So I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

“Me too,” Bridget smiled before boldly adding, “It’s just a shame we’re not in the same bed.”

There was a brief moment of silence on the other end of the phone as if Chris needed a second to process what she’d said, but just before she could mumble out an apology, he chuckled. It was a slightly darker, rougher chuckle than the lighthearted ones she’d heard earlier and the sound sent another shiver down her spine.

“That is a shame,” he agreed. “I guess I’ll have to suffer in this giant bed all by myself.”

Bridget laughed at the dramatic sigh that fell from his lips, but another glance at the clock had her amusement quickly replaced by disappointment.

“Sounds like quite a hardship,” she mockingly sympathized. “But unfortunately, I have to leave my nice, warm, cozy bed and get ready for work.”

“Oh, right. I’d already forgotten that it’s Monday morning for you.”

“Unfortunately,” Bridget stifled a yawn. “So I’ll let you go get some sleep.”

“Alright, I hope you have a good day.”

“Thanks, good luck with all your interviews tomorrow and have fun at the premiere.”

Chris thanked her for her well-wishes as well before they said their goodbyes and hung up, leaving Bridget to drag herself out of bed and go about her day with a smile on her face that she just couldn’t shake.

-

The first week of Chris’ travels made it difficult for them to stay in touch. The twelve hour time difference meant that one of them was always just about to start their day while the other was winding down which meant their conversations were mostly limited to brief check-ins. However, Chris still made the effort to send her a message every single day so even if the conversations were short, Bridget was content. She really hadn’t expected to hear from him more than once or twice while he was away, but now the thought of such limited contact had her stomach in knots. She knew it was silly - they still barely knew each other and he was still well within his rights to change his mind and cut their contact altogether - but he was always so eager and genuine in their conversations. She didn’t get the impression that he would be looking for an excuse to toss her aside any time soon.

She found herself sitting on the couch as Landon built a train track on the floor by her feet debating for what felt like the millionth time whether or not she was letting herself get too attached. She was willing to admit - at least to herself, not anyone else - that Chris took up more time in her mind than anything else currently did and that she looked forward to their conversations maybe a little more than she should, but it was fun and refreshing and Chris seemed just as enthusiastic as she was so that made it easier to let herself indulge.

Almost as if to prove her point, her phone lit up in her hand with an incoming facetime call from Chris. They hadn’t even spoken on the phone since the last time he’d called so she was a little surprised by the sudden shift to video, but she lifted up her phone until it was in front of her face and answered.

“Hey!” Chris grinned as his face appeared on the screen. “There you are.”

“Here I am,” Bridget confirmed, matching his smile as she let her eyes drift to the small shot of herself in the corner to make sure that she looked at least somewhat presentable. “Did you make it to London?”

“I did,” he nodded. “We got in a few hours ago, but we went out for dinner to try and stay awake a bit longer.”

“You must be exhausted,” Bridget sympathized, doing the math of all the various time differences in her head. “I don’t know how you can handle bouncing through all these time zones.”

“I get used to it,” Chris shrugged. “And then sleep for a week when I get home.”

Bridget was just about to comment on how he’d earned the rest when their conversation caught Landon’s attention.

“Who are you talking to?”

“My friend, Chris,” Bridget informed him. “He’s all the way across the ocean in England right now.”

“That sounds really far…” Landon’s eyes widened as he scrambled up, standing on the couch to lean into the camera’s view. “Hi, Chris!”

“Hi, Landon!” Chris smiled. “Do you have baseball today?”

The question confused both of them for a moment until Bridget realized what Landon was wearing.

“No, not today, but Landon loves wearing his jersey,” she informed him. “I had to order a second one just to get the first one off of him long enough to wash it.”

Bridget rolled her eyes, but Landon puffed up his chest to make the logo a little more clear and Chris chuckled at his pride.

“I don’t blame him, that’s a pretty cool jersey. Are you liking baseball so far?”

“I love it,” Landon frantically nodded. “I even hit the ball sometimes! Not all the time, but sometimes I do!”

“Well, that’s better than I can do,” Chris admitted. “Usually I can’t hit the ball at all.”

“I can teach you!” Landon offered, earning a snort of laughter from Bridget at his confidence. “Maybe when I’m a little better at it.”

“That would be really fun,” Chris agreed. “I could use a good coach.”

“Landon might have to work on that a little bit more,” Bridget teased. “We were playing catch yesterday and he gave me a pretty hard time for not being able to throw very well.”

“But you were bad at it,” Landon protested over the sounds of Chris’ laughter. “I couldn’t even catch the ball!”

“Good coaches have to be patient.”

Bridget had to admit that she was embarrassingly bad at the game they’d been playing and Landon’s frustration was probably justified, but she appreciated the way he had the decency to look a little sheepish as he sighed and agreed to her criticism. However, before anything else could be said about it, a look of realization crossed over Landon’s face as he changed the subject with a lack of tact that only a four year old could get away with.

“Do you have a dog?”

The question was directed at Chris who nodded in confirmation.

“I do! You met him at the park one day, remember?”

“Yeah!” Landon grinned. “Where is he?”

“He’s not with me right now, he has to stay home when I travel.”

The sadness was clear in his voice and Bridget thought it was sweet how much he obviously missed his little companion.

“Landon loves dogs,” she explained even though she was pretty sure she’d mentioned that before. “He wants us to get one.”

“I love dogs too,” Chris agreed. “But, you know what? Dodger is staying with my sister right now and I’m sure he’d love it if you took him for a walk some time.”

The suggestion had Landon’s whole face lighting up as he blurted out an excited, “Really?!”

“Yeah,” Chris smiled. “He really misses me when I’m gone so I bet making a new friend would cheer him up a lot.”

Landon’s attention turned back to Bridget as he bounced on the couch, his excitement making it hard for him to sit still.

“Can we, Mommy? Can we, please?”

“I don’t see why not,” Bridget shrugged. “Is he with Carly?”

“Yeah, he likes being around the kids. They keep him entertained.”

“Okay, then I can text her and see if we can set up a time to borrow him,” she agreed, earning a squeal of joy from Landon before he jumped off the couch and turned his attention back to the trains. “I think you just made his day.”

“I should have suggested it sooner. I’m sure Carly won’t mind the break, but there’s no pressure if you don’t have the time.”

“I think we can find time to fit it in,” she assured him. “And hopefully it will get Landon off my back about getting him a dog for a little while so it’s a win-win.”

“Unless it just makes him want one more,” Chris pointed out with a smirk. “But you can borrow him when I’m home too if it does help.”

“Thanks, I think,” Bridget smirked. “Unless you’re just looking for some free dog sitting.”

Her teasing earned a bark of laughter from Chris as he shook his head.

“One day you’re gonna have to stop thinking the worst of me.”

“You’ve gotta earn that privilege, I’m afraid,” Bridget giggled. “But anyway, how’s London?”

“It’s good so far,” Chris shrugged, but as he launched into a little more detail about where they’d gone for dinner and the brief parts of the city that he’d actually had the chance to see that day, Bridget was struck by how natural their conversation was. Considering they’d only been on one date - maybe two, if painting her house counted as an unofficial one - it was amazing how easily they slipped into casually chatting like old friends. It felt far more like they’d known each other for years than the reality of them being virtual strangers, but Chris drew her focus back as he sleepily rubbed his eyes and admitted, “I’m tired though. I don’t feel like I’ll really be able to enjoy it here because I doubt I’ll have much energy for anything other than work, but maybe I’ll feel differently in the morning.”

“That’s understandable,” Bridget assured him, knowing how exhausted travelling always made her from the limited experience she had with it. “Have you been there before?”

“Yeah, so I’ve seen a lot of the big tourist attractions,” he admitted. “There’s a few other places I’d like to see, but nothing that I’m convinced would be worth losing sleep over.”

“I’ve never been, but I bet there’s some amazing libraries,” Bridget mused wistfully before she felt her cheeks heat up as she realized how lame she sounded. “Sorry, that was super dorky. I just, uh, I know that there’s one that supposedly used to be an asylum so that’s kinda cool. They're not all boring, sometimes the architecture is pretty impressive too.”

She cringed at her rambled defense as she was once again reminded that she was in a very different league to Chris when it came to interesting careers, but the amused look on his face slowed her spiral into humiliation at least a little bit.

“I know what you mean,” he assured her. “Some libraries are pretty incredible. I haven’t been in a long time, but the one in Boston is beautiful.”

“It is! It was my home away from home for a long time.”

Technically, if she was being honest, it was more like home to her than her actual home was for a very large portion of her childhood, but she was relieved when the fond smile that accompanied her words didn’t spark any more questions from Chris.

“Maybe I’ll try and squeeze in a library tour while I’m here,” he decided. “I bet there are some pretty great ones. I’ll check it out and report back, see if it’s worth your time coming all the way over here some day.”

“Well, I’m sure I could find other things in London to entertain myself.”

“Yeah,” Chris flashed her a smirk. “But would you want to?”

A giggle slipped from her lips as she felt a strange flush of pride that he apparently already had her so well figured out, but she couldn’t resist shooting him a playful glare.

“Maybe,” she shrugged. “I do have other interests.”

“Oh, yeah? Name one.”

It was a teasing challenge as while his tone implied that it would be a difficult task for her, she was pretty sure that he knew she’d be able to come up at least one other thing she liked besides libraries and books, but the answer that rolled off her tongue surprised her almost as much as it surprised him.

“Well, lately I’ve been getting kinda into Captain America.”

Her answer earned a chuckle from Chris as he pressed for more information.

“Yeah? The comic books or the movie?”

“If I’m being really honest, I’d have to say the actor is what appeals to me the most.”

“Wow, I’m sure he’d be very flattered to hear that.”

Chris flashed her a wink that had her biting the inside of her cheek to hold back a giggle, but as he let out a yawn she knew that his bedtime was probably long overdue.

“I hope he is and I hope he doesn’t mind that I have to cut our conversation short, but I should probably go make Landon some dinner,” she informed him, hoping he’d be less resistant to ending their conversation if it wasn’t solely for his benefit. “And you should probably go get some sleep if you’re planning on finding the energy for that library tour.”

“You’re probably right,” he agreed. “I guess I’ll have to do that now, won’t I?”

“Yep,” Bridget smiled. “I expect a full written report.”

“Of course you do,” Chris smirked. “There’s that sexy librarian side coming out.”

Despite the blush that the word ‘sexy’ had flushing over her cheeks, Bridget stuck out her tongue before saying goodnight and hanging up. She tried her best to keep the lovesick smile off of her face, but it was hard when her conversations with Chris left her feeling so giddy and she was just grateful that Landon’s age left him clueless and distractible enough not to question her suddenly great mood.

-

Most days, Bridget liked being a parent. 

She liked watching Landon learn new things, she liked any opportunity to see things from his point of view and she liked getting to teach him about the world. She even liked helping him work through his bigger emotions and watching him slowly but surely learn better problem solving and coping skills. 

However, there were also days when it was a struggle. 

Days when Landon showed his stubborn side and refused to listen, when he would get frustrated and upset over every little thing and when it seemed like nothing Bridget tried to do could turn his mood around. Luckily, those days were few and far between, but as Bridget sipped a glass of wine at the end of one of those particularly rough days, she found herself feeling very glad that it was over.

It wasn’t until she was almost halfway through her drink that she felt like her head had stopped spinning enough to turn her attention to the text that remained unread on her phone. It was the first time since Chris had left town about a month and a half earlier that she’d let any message go unanswered for more than about an hour and while the guilt of ignoring him had weighed on her, she hoped he would understand as she typed out a reply.

Sorry. Had a bad day. I’m glad you made it back to L.A., maybe we can chat tomorrow if you’re not busy. I don’t think I’d be great company tonight.

He’d been bouncing back and forth between L.A. and New York since he’d returned to the US at the start of May and they’d spent almost every evening chatting and catching up about their days. They’d planned to talk that evening, but Bridget really didn’t feel like she had it in her to be cheerful and she wasn’t sure that their relationship was at a point yet where he wouldn’t be scared off by her bad mood. That was why she was surprised to see her phone almost instantly light up with an incoming call and Chris’ name on the screen.

“Hi, Chris…”

Her greeting came out as a sigh and she immediately felt bad for how disinterested she sounded, but before she could apologize, Chris replied.

“Hey, is everything okay?” He asked. “We don’t have to talk if you don’t feel like it, but if you need someone to vent to then I’m happy to listen.”

His words would have made her laugh if they hadn’t sounded so sincere. He reminded her of one of those cliche descriptions of the perfect man that women just want to rub their feet and listen to their problems, but she could hear the concern in his voice and doubted that he was feigning interest just to win her over.

“It’s just been a tough day,” she admitted. “But I’m sure you have better things to do than listen to me complain.”

“You’ve listened to me complain plenty since I left,” he pointed out and Bridget did have to admit that it was true. He often opened up about how monotonous and exhausting all the press and interviews could be and she was happy to listen so she wasn’t entirely sure why she felt so guilty sharing her frustrations as well. “What happened?”

“Landon’s just been giving me a hard time all day,” she told him. “He didn’t sleep well last night so I should have expected it, but I literally Googled ‘am I a bad mom?’ at least four times today so that’s the point I’m at in my parenting journey.”

“Well, I can answer that question for you because you’re definitely not.”

Considering the rather small amount of time that Chris had actually seen Bridget and Landon together, it would have been easy to dismiss his support as meaningless reassurance that he knew would make her feel better with no evidence behind his claim, but Bridget knew that his heart was in the right place as she thanked him for the gesture.

“I appreciate that,” she sighed. “But sometimes I just feel so ineffective. Like, there’s only so many times I can warn him not to do something before I have to just let him do it and deal with the consequences, but then it’s hard to watch when he’s devastated by the outcome.”

“Is that what happened today?”

“Yeah,” she nodded to herself. “We’ve spent the entire week building this big Lego spaceship and he was so proud of finally finishing it, but then he wanted to play with it which is totally fine, but he kept balancing it right on the edge of the coffee table so I warned him that it would fall off and break and he just kept getting irritated with me and saying that it would be fine until it fell onto the floor and shattered into a million pieces.”

“Oh man, that’s rough,” Chris sympathized. “But sometimes I think they’ve just gotta learn things like that the hard way.”

“Definitely,” Bridget agreed. “But he was so crushed when it broke and that turned into anger because I couldn’t immediately put it back together even though it took days to build in the first place.”

“Patience is a hard skill at his age.”

Chris’ words were said with a chuckle that - despite her still lingering bad mood - had Bridget’s lips twitching into a smile.

“It is. And that was the last of a long list of hiccups we had today so I think we were both just kinda over it,” Bridget reflected. “But I’m sure tomorrow will be better and I’m sure that you are tired of hearing me vent about something you have no interest in.”

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone - long enough to make Bridget a bit nervous - before Chris spoke again.

“Well, you’re wrong about that for a couple of reasons,” he informed her, a hint of something that sounded like hurt in his voice. “First of all, I asked you to vent, I told you it was fine. I wouldn’t have done that if I was going to be irritated about it after two minutes of listening to you. And second, I am absolutely interested in hearing about Landon - even on days when things aren’t so great. I know he’s a big part of your life and if we’re gonna to do this then I’d like to be involved in that too - even if for now that just means getting to listen to you work through your frustrations.”

Again, his words sounded so much like exactly what she wanted to hear that she would have questioned how genuine they were if she couldn’t hear the sincerity in his voice. He was clearly bothered by what she’d said and she felt bad for assuming that parenting woes weren’t a part of her life that he would care much about, but something he’d said had her momentarily distracted from what he was saying.

In all their conversations, they hadn’t mentioned anything about what exactly their situation was. They talked a lot - enough that they’d become pretty good friends - and they flirted pretty regularly - enough that it was obvious that friends probably wasn’t all they would be - but they hadn’t actually talked about what their plan was. So Chris speculating about if they were ‘gonna do this’ was something that Bridget took as a pretty good sign that his time away hadn’t given him any second thoughts and had her biting back a smile despite the guilt she felt from his scolding.

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I wasn’t trying to be dismissive, I really do appreciate your support. I just don’t want to bore you if it’s not a problem that you can really relate to.”

“I can relate to it in some ways,” he assured her. “I’ve spent enough time with my niece and nephews to know how tough kids can be some days. They’re good kids, but even good kids have their bad days.”

“Absolutely. Landon is a good kid too, but that doesn’t make days like today any easier.”

Another heavy sigh fell from her lips as she sipped her wine and tried to shake off her bad mood, but it was what Chris said next that really cheered her up.

“I know, but I bet tomorrow will be better,” he assured her before adding, “And I don’t want to be presumptuous by thinking that this will help at all, but I’m gonna be home in a few days. Maybe I could take your mind off things by taking you out on another date?”

The flush of excitement that Bridget felt as she processed his offer easily succeeded in washing away the last of her melancholy feelings. Her heart raced, her hands started to sweat, and it took more effort that she was happy to admit to play it cooler than simply immediately blurting out an enthusiastic ‘yes!’. She’d been curious about when he would be coming back as she did remember him saying he’d only be gone for a couple of months - which by her math was wrapping up pretty soon - but she couldn’t think of a way to ask about it that didn’t feel too desperate so she’d just been hoping that he’d mention it when he was ready. So, to hear that he was eager to make plans for when he was back was music to her ears.

“I would really like that,” Bridget accepted, grateful that they weren’t using video and Chris couldn’t see the goofy grin on her face. “And you’re not being presumptuous, I was hoping you’d be back soon.”

“I'm happy to hear that!” Chris let out an audible breath of relief and Bridget couldn’t stop a giggle from slipping from her lips before he continued. “I have a few more things to do over the next few days, but I think I’m gonna fly back on Tuesday night.”

“Great. I’ll be childfree until Sunday, but I understand if you need a little while to catch your breath when you get back.”

Even though her statement was true, the thought of having to wait almost two weeks until she had another free evening made her heart clench with disappointment and she was relieved when Chris rushed to assure her.

“Nah, usually just a couple days is all I need. We could aim for Friday if that works for you?”

“Absolutely,” Bridget smiled. “That’s made me feel better already, thank you.”

“No, thank you for saying yes,” Chris chuckled. “I was worried you’d come to your senses while I was away and turn me down.”

“Definitely not. I’ve really enjoyed talking to you.”

Bridget felt that was a somewhat obvious statement considering how much time they’d spent chatting while he was away, but there was something that made her feel vulnerable about actually admitting it to him and she was relieved when he returned the sentiment.

Once their plans were in place and the weight of Bridget’s bad day had lifted, they continued their conversation as they figured out what their second official date would entail, talked about what other obligations Chris had in L.A. and what else Bridget had planned that week. It was the same easy and comfortable conversation that they always seemed to fall into, but the excitement of seeing each other again so soon bubbling under the surface had Bridget feeling desperate for that close connection that could only be reached by actually being in the same room and from Chris’ enthusiasm and increased flirtation she thought it was safe to assume that he was feeling the same way.

[phantomspiderr]

By Any Means ║ Part 2

Pairing: Joel Miller x *f!reader

Word Count: 1.4k+

Summary: twenty years after your life completely went up in smoke. You've settled somewhere safe after years of risking your life but it looks like all of that is about to be turned upside down too when an old contact appears out of nowhere.

Warnings/Tags: tlou hbo spoilers, creepy drunk man, mentions of alcohol & drinking, trauma, canon level violence, cursing, mentions of death

a/n: sorry no joel in this chapter but I promise he'll be back next chapter! As always I hope you enjoy, I appreciate you. Anyway, the last chapter flopped so hard and kinda expect this one to as well but we move and I’m committed to posting it anyway. sorry it’s a bit shit.

Also, I forgot to shoutout my bestie in the last chapter, @natashasvixen you're the best! Couldn’t do anything without you, thank you for all your support🤍

*no real description of reader or gender as far as I know but I've written it with a female reader in mind

series masterlist | phantomspiderr masterlist

“Well hello there darlin’,” your body involuntarily cringes upon hearing the nickname. Your reaching hand freezes around a glass and for a moment you think about the past, pre-outbreak, before quickly shaking your head at that thought.

“We’re closed.” You speak flatly, hoping the drunk will just turn around and leave. You don’t even turn to look in his direction. It’d been a long day, and you just wanted to clean up and go home.

“‘M not looking for a drink darlin’,” this time the nickname makes you angry. Sometimes you wonder why you ever decided to work in the only bar in this godforsaken town was a good idea.

“We’re still closed.” You continue clearing the table in front of you, then there’s a hand on your waist and you freeze again.

“I said I’m not looking for a drink,” he stinks, he smells of stale dirt and strongly of alcohol. His grip is harsh, and he has the audacity to push his body up against you. In a second, you grab onto his wrist, twisting until his arm is folded behind him, and he’s pinned against another table. A few glasses fly to the floor, smashing upon contact, and the already unsteady table wobbles.

“And I said we’re closed. Now, piss off.” You shove the man, and he fumbles to stay on his feet.

“Fucking bitch,” he spits on the floor at your feet, mumbling more drunk profanities as he exits the bar. When the heavy door closes, you finally let out a shuddering breath, your body now trembling just a little. You close your eyes and draw in a deep breath, attempting to calm your racing heart. Even after years of having to take care of yourself, you still find it hard to shake off the fear the courses through you during every confrontation.

You’d thought moving into this smaller town would be better than the QZ, that maybe people would be nicer, and that it’d maybe feel a bit more normal, but it wasn’t. No amount of ‘normal’ looking ration stores or homes made it feel like it used to. People were all too busy surviving that it wasn’t until they were a few drinks in that maybe they’d be nicer. There were a few exceptions, of course. You’d made a few distant friends along the way, but moving from place to place for years in an apocalypse wasn’t exactly the ideal situation to make close friends.

You were pretty much on your own now, having separated from the only two people you knew after one too many innocent lives had been taken. You’d never agreed with the Hunter's way of life, but you had loved Joel enough to follow him anywhere. But he had become cruel and cold towards everyone, especially to you. You had of course always understood why, everyone had become some sort of shell of who they once were, but eventually it had taken a toll.

It was after one exceptionally harsh fight, where in a drunken state Joel had proclaimed you were a burden that just hung around, that you simply left. It was the final straw. You’d learnt enough to defend yourself in the few years following Joel and Tommy on their suicide missions. So, you packed up what little things you had and just disappeared at the first sign of light. It was hard being alone after so many years, realising you know no one or anything about where you were. Then after days of travelling, you’d managed to sneak yourself into a quarantine zone and there you worked to keep yourself safe for a few years. Eventually, that life had bored you enough that you left with a small group of people, heading for a rumoured town free of FEDRA’s command. It wasn’t all the rumours had made it out to be, but it was the place you called home for now. You had a little house that you shared with a few people, there was some livestock and best of all it was safe, for the most part. It would do for now, even though you longed for something better. Somewhere with nicer people, one of those bigger communities you’d heard about, a place where everything almost felt normal.

Your fingers rub at your temples, attempting to fight off an impending headache before going back to your cleaning up with a huff. The days felt like they were testing you, for reasons you don’t know, but you were tired.

“Oh fuck off will you!” The words tumble out of your mouth upon hearing the front door creak open again. Assuming it to be the drunk guy from before or just another drunk wanting his ass kicked.

“Well it’s good to see you again too,” the familiar voice immediately has your head whipping around.

“Marlene?!”

~

“Well, what the fuck do you want?” Forcefully, you place a glass down in front of Marlene, the contents spilling a little onto the table you’d just cleaned. You sit across from her, arms folded over your chest and an unfriendly look on your face.

“You’re not in the best of moods, maybe I should travel across the states looking for you at a better time?” Her sarcasm is not helping your mood, and your face tells her that much. Marlene sighs deeply before taking a sip of the drink, wincing at its strength, and then continuing. “I need your help.”

You loudly scoff, on the brink of getting up from the table and just leaving there and then. Let’s just say your last interaction with Marlene was not a polite one; you’re sure you can remember her calling you a deserter and a bitch all in the same breath.

“It’s important.”

“Not a fucking chance.”

She sighs out your name before rubbing a hand over her face.

“I need you. You’re the only one I know that can do this-”

“No! No, Marlene. You fucked me over once to save your precious Fireflies, and I don’t doubt you’d do it again!” You’re both trying to be louder than the other, talking over each other like it’ll stop you from hearing what the other has to say.

“There’s a cure.” She says it too simply for it to be true.

“Bullshit!”

“Ok, there will be.” This time you’re quiet, wanting to hear what story she’s concocted to make you fall back into her business. Your silence is enough of a go ahead for her to keep going. “There’s a girl. She’s immune, and I have doctors across the country that say she is the cure for all of this.”

“So, that’s what you want? A glorified babysitter for some kid?”

“No. Something went wrong-”

“There it is.” You slam your hands onto the table, moving to your feet. You're done with the conversation, bad things tend to follow Marlene and you just don’t want to be involved this time.

“Will you just fucking sit down and listen!” You both stare at each other for far too long of a moment until you concede, sitting back in your chair. Marlene downs the remainder of her drink before she starts talking again.

“I had… some people agree to take her to a drop off point. Things went south with that crew, last I heard one of them was infected, and then nothing. I need a group to go, track them down. Make sure the girl’s still living. Take her where she needs to be.” You’re shaking your head, not believing for a second you’re actually considering this suicide mission. “I’ve already organised a group and a rendezvous point that we’ve encoded over the radio in case Jo- in case they hear it, so they know where to go.”

“And why the fuck do you need me? If I remember right, you called me a traitor for wanting something more to life than fucking Firefly chaos.”

“You’re one of the best we’ve got.” You raise an eyebrow at her. “Okay, had. Look, can you just set aside whatever shit happened between us and realise what this girl means.”

She’s really selling this in a way only Marlene can. Ultimately, you could just say no, and go back to cleaning alcohol-stained tables and piles of puke off the floor. Or… you could go, maybe be part of history, or at the very least die trying. Goddamn Fireflies and their hope.

“Fine.” Marlene’s visibly shocked by your response. “But,” her face drops again, knowing she should have expected a but, “after that, I’m done. I don’t want to hear from you again. Ever.” 

There’s just silence as you stare at one another, and then Marlene smiles before extending her hand toward you. You look at it for a moment before sighing and against your better judgment making the deal and shaking her hand.

[7waystreet]

phone s*x | park jimin

synopsis —  it doesn’t matter if you can’t see Jimin in person; he'll make sure to get it on with you over a steamy video call

genre — fluff; smut

warnings — 18+ language and sexual content, masturbation (male & fem)

word count — 1.4k

"Show me your pussy."

You're deeply glaring at his amorous eyes in protest, but you already know the more you keep gazing at him, the more you're going to want him.

"I really can't right now. My parents are like literally in the room next door."

"So? Close the door."

Taking a soft gulp, you bite down on your bottom lip in contemplation as Jimin continues to intensely stare at you through your phone screen, absolutely not showing any sign of wanting to back down from his request. It's been a while since you've last met up with him, and you're both now obviously getting sexually frustrated, your parents not knowing anything about your secret relationship with Jimin that had started a few months ago.

If you're going to do as he says, you've got to make sure nobody from your family accidentally walks in on you though, which is a big risk knowing how your siblings usually barge into your bedroom at any given time without warning.

"I'm still waiting..."

"Geez, lower your voice! Hold up, I'm closing the door."

The light dances in his devilish eyes as he flashes you a victorious smirk, your own lips curling up into a sly grin while you crawl out of your sheets and tip toe over to shut your bedroom's door.

"I miss fucking you over that cute bed of yours. Wait, when are your parents traveling again?"

"They leave in 2 days for their vacation so you can come over then."

"Damn, two more days of no sex?"

You playfully roll your eyes at his exaggerated groaning, his neediness for you warming your heart as you prop up your phone in a neat position on your bedside table in an angle where Jimin can fully see your body.

"Rich of you to say that when you can jerk off to my nudes all you want. My own fingers don't do as much to get me going."

Jimin's face drops at your words, a frown settling on his pretty face as he appears like he's deep in thought, trying to come up with a plan to get you the help you need to fully feel aroused. You try to finger yourself or play around with your clit while you're both on FaceTime late at night, but it's not as pleasurable as when he does it to you. It's just a tease if anything, your own hands not being able to guarantee you an orgasm, but his sturdy yet soft ones working like magic on you.

"Do you have anything that can vibrate, like a toy or something? That might help you out! Yoongi hyung said he used one on his girlfriend, and that got her cumming buckets."

You've already pulled your pajama pants half off, rolling them past your exposed thighs, but you now pause at Jimin's curious comment. Instead of cringing at the fact that you've learned something entirely unnecessary about Yoongi and his girlfriend's private sex life, you actually feel your heart racing at Jimin's brilliant idea, the thought of probably getting to orgasm in a long while selfishly clouding your judgement.

"Wait yeah, my toothbrush is electric so it kinda vibrates! Why couldn't I have thought of this before?!"

"That's the Jimin effect, baby."

"I'll be right back, let me get my toothbrush."

Smirking at him, you slide your pants back up in a rush of excitement, securely hiding your phone underneath your pillow in case someone walks in and sees you on a video call with Jimin like this. Casually leaving your room, you stroll to your bathroom past your parents bedroom looking as normal as possible, like you aren't just about to press the backside of your vibrating toothbrush onto your clit a few feet away from them.

"(y/n), you're still awake? Go to bed honey, it's so late."

"Yeah mom, I will. Just about to brush my teeth first."

You can't help but silently giggle to yourself, making sure your parents don't catch you sneaking out of the bathroom with the toothbrush after you've actually brushed your teeth for a few mins. Closing your bedroom door tightly shut behind you once again, you sprint over to your mattress and pick your phone back up from underneath the pillow, waving the toothbrush in Jimin's face as his smile greets you when his eyes fall on what you're holding.

"You know, you're one dirty girl."

"Shut up and take your pants off, mister."

"Someone's in a hurry..."

You chuckle at him as you hop back in your bed and re-position your phone on your bedside table, Jimin's simultaneously doing the same in his room, your heart desperately wishing he was with you right now instead of having to do this through the screen. You gotta do what you gotta do is what you're thinking when you take off your pants for Jimin all over again.

"Take off your bra too. I wanna see your tits."

You do as you're told, carefully pulling off your basic cotton t-shirt and bra, stripping yourself of everything on your body except the silver chain necklace that Jimin's gifted you on your anniversary.

"Keep the necklace on, it's hot."

His words are already getting you exhilarated, the slightly authoritative tone in his voice making you feel even more wanted by him. Just something about him openly stating out things he'd like you to do is an attractive quality that he naturally possesses, always getting you horny in no time despite not even being able to physically touch you in any way.

"Damn Jiminie, you're hard already?"

"I can't even begin to describe how badly I wanna fuck you."

Your gaze slowly travels down from his edgy jawline to the perfect abs on his honey skin, finally ending on his raging boner, which pops right up when he pulls his boxers off, his hand now on it's way over to the bottle of lotion sitting on his bedside table.

"I wish you could too."

Your overwhelmed eyes observe how he's squirted out a thick lotion on his palm, then slowly massaging it on his length as he stares you down in utmost lust.

"Well, tell me how bad you want me to fuck you."

"You already know how I'd rather have you all to myself."

"I wish I could rail that tight little pussy too."

Your own hand starts to explore yourself, your fingers reaching down and sliding past your navel, gently rubbing around your clit to get you going too.

"Shit, you look so hot touching yourself like that."

Jimin's unwaveringly looking into your eyes, the glint in them shining through as his sight drops to your boobs while he continues to jack off to you. You're starting to feel wet from your motions too, a finger slipping into your hole as you try to pump yourself with it and create some friction, but you know you need another push to get yourself to cum without his touch.

You now pick up the toothbrush off of your sheets, taking a pause for a second as you wonder if you really should be doing this.

"Do it. Stuff it in you like it's my dick."

Jimin's words motivate you even though you're a bit scared at first, starting off with just pressing the cold bottom part on your clit. Turning the toothbrush on, the pulsating feeling gets you going way more than you'd anticipated, your legs starting to shiver from the sudden brilliant pleasure running through your body.

"Don't stop there. Put it inside of you."

You turn off the vibration, sucking in a big breath from your mouth and deciding to just go for it, now bravely sliding the toothbrush into your wet heat. You're obviously not going to stab yourself with the sharp bristles so you take it easy by going in with the other end, then turning the toothbrush back on to start the pulsations again. The feeling isn't the same as having sex with Jimin, but it's the best you can do on your own at the moment, the girth of the toothbrush thicker than your fingers and the vibrations mimicking his thrusts in you.

"Now make yourself cum for me."

Jimin looks like he's nearing his end too, the pace of his stroking increasing while he gets himself off to your naked body, his twinkling eyes then closing up as he imagines fucking you instead. You're trying hard not to moan, afraid your family's going to hear you through the wall, biting down on your tongue as you finally experience your orgasm, your breath severed as Jimin's cum drips out of his tip in no time too.

"That's my good girl."

[integra1127grimmreaper]

The One That Got Away - Part ten

Negan Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 9

Warning: swearing, smut, cheating

Things between Negan and you were progressing really fast, you woke up each morning to text messages from him for the past week since the night the two of you had gone out for drinks. And each day he would ask when you would be available for that dinner date, eventually you caved in; revealing which day was your off day from work.

Queue today’s text.

“Hey there… we still on for tonight?”

“Hey, not sure if I’m up for going out tonight.”

“You ok?”

“Just had a shitty day at work and want a peaceful night in at home.”

“I understand… tell ya what; why don’t we chill at your house, and I make us dinner?”

Silently staring at Negan’s last text, you debated the suggestion for some time.

Was it really a good idea to have him over to your house?

Just the two of you alone, with no one around to keep you from doing something extremely stupid.

“Hey, earth to Y/N…”

“So, what ya say… you, me, a quiet dinner?”

Realizing that Negan wasn’t going to give up until getting the answer he wanted, you responded.

“OK”

“Awesome, see ya later then.”

Mentally shaking your head at the decision, you had just made, you end the conversation by sending your address.

You were nervously fretting over your appearance in the mirror as you awaited Negan’s arrival.

You must have changed your outfit about five times already.

Finally deciding on a casual yet decent looking house dress.

Relax idiot… it’s only a friendly dinner between two friends, nothing else.

So lost in the internal bantering between yourself, you didn’t notice the time, not until hearing the sound of your doorbell going off.

“Hey there…” you stared wide-eyed at a broad smiling Negan as he entered through door with a grocery bag in hand.

“Hey… hope ya like spaghetti? It’s my specialty, so I’m treating ya to that tonight.”

“Sounds great…” you smile in response.

“Let me show you to the kitchen.”

You silently sat sipping at your glass of wine while Negan busied himself around your kitchen preparing dinner.

“So, how was your day?” Negan asks, his back to you as he stirred the sauce.

“Busy...” you remark with a heavy sigh.

“Had to attend two domestic disturbances, and a public intoxication, the most stressful part of it all was the paperwork though.”

Negan cringes in sympathy, “no wonder you weren’t in the mood for going out.”

“Enough about me arresting people” you change the topic.

“How was your day?”

“Same as usual” Negan shrugs.

“Dealing with and swearing at shithead kids all day.”

“I can’t believe you’re still getting away with doing that…” you snicker.

“Parents are always complaining” he chuckles out.

“Hasn’t stopped me from doing it though.”

“How you still have a job, is beyond me” you chuckle along with him.

“That’s because I’m fuckin’ good at my job… that, and I’m handsome as fuck” he winks at you.

“There’s no denying that…” you softly mumble into your glass.

“So, you think I’m handsome…?” Negan licks his top lip smugly.

“I’ve always found you attractive” you admit, covering it up with a chuckle then.

“Heck, a lot of kids during our high school time thought the same thing…”

“True…” Negan nods.

“But what matters; is that you did.”

“Don’t be silly…” you blush, waving his remark off.

With a serious look on his face, Negan steps closer to you; reaching out a hand to gently touch your cheek.

“I always thought you were beautiful…”

“Please…” you roll your eyes in denial.

“I was far from that, and even further from it now.”

“You’re even sexier now…” Negan groans out, eyes having turned dark with lust.

“You’re delusional” you brush him off.

“No, seriously… I wouldn’t have taken the risk of fucking you back then if I didn’t think so.”

“C’mon… that only counts as half sex” you shrug his comment off.

“Half sex?!” Negan scoffs, dropping his hand disappointedly.

“What are you? A fuckin’ teenager?”

“Neither of us came” you point out to him.

“So, it’s only counted as half…”

“My dick was inside you for quite some time, which means I fucked you. Even though we were interrupted, I fucked you… and it felt incredible.”

You lift your arms up in defeat.

“Ok, you win…”

“We fucked… you fucked me.”

Pulling your chair away from the island, Negan steps in-between your legs, causing your heartrate to rise.

“Does that day still cross your mind…? Do you regret it?”

“Negan…” you murmur as his hand stroked your cheek yet again.

“I don’t...” Negan confesses, hand moving up to tangle in your hair.

“I still remember how incredibly tight you were around me, it’s never left my mind…”

Your eyes fluttered shut as Negan gently massaged your scalp. When you opened them again, his lips were mere inches from your own.

Negan silently stared into your eyes for a moment, seeing that you were into it as well; he slams his lips hard against your own.

Pulling you up to your feet, Negan wraps his arms tightly around your waist as the two of you devoured each other’s mouths.

Your arms wrap around the back of Negan’s neck as his hands lower down, pulling the skirt of your dress upward.

Completely lost in the moment, you gasp out in surprise when Negan suddenly lifts you onto the island.

Recovering quickly; you begin unbuttoning his shirt as the two of you continue kissing, your hands roaming all over each other’s bodies in a passionate frenzy.

The moment is suddenly interrupted though by the sound of the pasta water having boiled over.

“Shit!” Negan rushes to remove it from the stove.

You were seated on top of the island still as you attempted to even your breathing.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Negan scolds as you were just about to jump off it.

“I-” you begin to say but Negan interrupts with a shake of his head.

“I’m not done with you…” he growls, hastily stalking back toward you.

He then lifts you up from the island, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist.

“Which way is your bedroom?”

Staring at him wide-eyed, you silently point toward it, and he carries you in the direction.

Placing you on the edge of the bed, Negan immediately begins undressing as you silently sat almost trance like admiring his every move.

You were snapped out your trance, when a boxer clad Negan roughly grabs hold of your hair; tipping down to capture your lips in a hard kiss.

You softly moaned out as Negan and your tongue battle for dominance, pulling away for air; Negan reaches down to pull your dress over your head.

“Jesus, you’re fuckin’ beautiful…” he groans out, groping at your breast as your head tilts back in pleasure.

Wanting to have some power control over him yourself, you reach out to stroke his cock through his boxers.

“You’re killing me here, Sweetheart…”

Negan lets out a grunt of pleasure, eyes fluttering shut as his head tilts to the back.

With a victorious smirk, you finally stop torturing him, slipping your hand into the waistband of his boxers, and gently pulling out his straining erection.

Negan watched through hooded lids as you lightly licked at the tip, looking up at him; you gently swirl your tongue around it, dipping the tip of it into the slit of his cock.

“Fuuuuck…” Negan hisses out, gripping tight hold your head as you opened your mouth to fully take him in.

Gurgling noises filled the room as you hollowed your cheeks as best you could while Negan fucked the shit out of your mouth.

After a few minutes, Negan pulls away from you with a loud groan.

“Don’t want to cum yet, not until I’ve had that pussy wrapped around my dick again…”

“Then take it…” you slur out, eyes fully lust blown.

With a deep growl, Negan pushes you back onto the bed, reaching for your panties, hastily removing them.

“You’re fuckin’ soaked…” Negan groans out in approval as he goes to bury his face in-between your legs.

A loud cry escapes your lips when his mouth latches onto your centre, your fingers instinctively burying in his hair.

“Fuck, Negan…” you tug at his hair, pulling him up your body.

“I can’t wait anymore…”

“What’s wrong, Sweetheart…?” Negan whispers against your lips, fingers circling over your clit.

“I-need-you…” you slur, eyes rolling into the back of your head in pleasure.

Grabbing hold of his erection, Negan strokes it between your soaking folds.

“What is it you need from me, Baby…?”

“Please-fuck-me…” you whimper out desperately.

Placing the tip of his cock against your entrance, Negan smirks down at you.

“Anytime baby…”

With one powerful snap of his hips, Negan buries himself till the hilt inside you; causing you both to groan out as you spasm around him.

“Fuck...” Negan buries his face into the side of your neck with a groan.

“You still feel so fuckin’ tight…”

Your only response was a soft whimper; your mind void of any and all thought, except for the pleasurable stinging sensation of him stretching your walls.

Negan’s hips slowly begin to rock into you, causing your back to arch off from the bed with each deep thrust of his cock into you.

Once you’ve adjusted, Negan’s hips begin picking up pace. The sounds of skin loudly slapping against each other, along with your whimpers and Negan’s grunts echo throughout the room as you tightly clung to him for dear life.

“Negan…” you cry out, feeling your orgasm fast approaching.

“I know baby, I’m almost there too…” Negan moans out, anchoring his arms under your shoulders for better grip.

After a few more hard thrusts from Negan, you couldn’t hold it anymore.

“I’m cumming…” you cried out, walls clenching tightly around him, triggering him to cum as well.

“Fuuuuck…” Negan groaned out in your neck as he emptied himself deep inside you.

After finally having caught your breaths, Negan rolls off you with a satisfied grunt; pulling you against his side and places a kiss into your hair.

“And that my dear, is a job completed…” he utters out breathlessly.

You couldn’t stop the snicker that slipped your lips at his reference to the ‘half sex’ comment you had made earlier.

It wasn’t long after that, when your eyes began fluttering close as satisfied exhaustion finally took over your body.

Part 11

Tags: @neganswoman @especially @thecupcakevigilante ​ @nt-multi-fandom ​  @tonysterco ​ @stoneyggirl2​

[annaraebananawriter]

"We just can't seem to get it right, huh?" With Dream and Nightmare? Maybe after some kind of truce and they had a fight?

Oooh, how I love writing Dream and Nightmare having a fight and then making up afterward. Even though my skills for writing dialogue in arguments are still rusty and generally not the greatest, in my opinion.

This got a little long, and that's my bad. But I had lots of fun writing it, and I hope you have lots of fun reading it!

Small warning for smoking and some implied self-hate.

That said, happy reading! Prompt is italicized.

~oOo~

Dream sat on the curb of a random street in a generally negative AU. The despondence in the air weakened him just enough that he didn't have the power to summon his own portal. He was definitely late for dinner.

Sighing, he took a drag of his cigarette and stared into the concrete at his feet.

Usually, he stayed clear of negative AUs. He didn't want to risk being stranded there until Ink realized where he was and took him home or his brother's gang found him and thought he was intruding. Fighting was a necessity, not a want. Even now, after the truce, he still tended to stick to his regular AUs, helping the people there until he couldn't anymore. Then, he would sleep, if he felt like it, for a few hours and repeat it all in the morning.

It was his way of spreading positivity, the way he was used to. Nightmare, upon learning this, had frowned and seemed frustrated at something, but otherwise left it alone.

Until earlier.

He had just been hanging out with Nightmare. Part of the truce was an agreement they made to try and understand each other's jobs, and the way they did their duty. Dream tagged along on some of Nightmare's routines, and vice versa. Sure, the negativity or positive made their magic weaker, relying on the other for transportation, but physically they were fine.

Today was a Nightmare day--or night. His brother tended to work at night, drawn to those having bad dreams or bad thoughts or things similar. He heightened the emotions closest to the surface and kept an eye on things.

Dream usually hung back and watched silently. Not today.

They had been by a kid's house, whose dream was just on the edge of turning into a nightmare. He watched from the window as Nightmare expanded the drop of fear into something more, watched the kid start to turn and whimper. His brother appeared beside him not long after and they both stood there for a moment.

Fidgeting with his fingers, Dream found himself talking before he really knew what he was going to say. "Are you sure you need to do it this way?"

Almost immediately, he inwardly cringed, tensing up for the coming response.

Nightmare's gaze turned to him. "Do what this way?"

Dream had shifted in place, uncomfortable. "Well, you know...spread negativity, I guess. Do you have to do it this way? It just seems..."

Nightmare still stared at him, almost daring him to complete his sentence.

"...cruel?" Dream's voice lowered, bordering on a whisper. It almost feels like saying something taboo, he thought.

"Why would it be cruel?" His brother's voice was clipped.

"I just mean--"

"I know what you mean," his brother had said, icy, turning to walk away. Dream hurried to follow. "I had thought we were past this, Dream."

"We are. I honestly didn't mean it that way. I just--"

"What other way is there? For kids, nightmares are a sure way they learn what to fear. At the same time, it creates a memory for them with their parents or guardians or siblings, good or bad. It helps them."

"Yes, I know."

"Do you?" Nightmare stopped at the end of the block. "Do you? I think you still have a bias about what is good and what is bad. You agreed to not let this bias control your actions."

"I am not."

"Aren't you?"

Dream floundered for something to say, understanding he upset his brother and wanting to make things right. "I...I do not think so, no. I had simply meant that I don't see the need for scaring a child into submission." He remembered something one of the villagers used to say, repeating it absently. "Negativity is not something to be pushed or heeded, simply something to be controlled and rid of."

A beat of silence passed.

Nightmare straightened, smiling bitterly. "Funny. That sounds exactly like something the villagers that beat me used to say." He ignored Dream's flinch away, turning. "You claim to be learning and go and say things like that."

Dream stood frozen for a moment. "Night, I--"

Nightmare held up his hand. "If you want to be rid of me, you just had to ask." Then, Nightmare slipped into the shadows and vanished from the AU. Dream stood there alone, hand half-outstretched.

The position reminded him of someplace else. He hastily shoved his hand into his pocket.

In the present, he took another drag of his cigarette.

He can see that he said all of the wrong things. That's easy to understand. It's also easy to understand why Nightmare got so defensive over what he did. He is not angry over that. He is mostly angry at himself and his stupid beliefs that he can't seem to shake. Why must he always see things through a black-and-white lens? Even Ink and Blue are far better at being open-minded than he is. Is there just something wrong with him?

A guardian should be mindful and respect their opposites, he reminded himself. And yet, when had he done that? He's failed at the simplest thing of being a guardian.

(Just like everything else in his life.)

It was probably for the best that Nightmare left him here before things escalated even more.

And yet, just as he finished the thought, someone sat beside him. Nightmare gazed out across the street, stoic. Dream watched him anxiously, an apology running circles in his mind. Just as he managed to get it down to his mouth, Nightmare spoke.

"We just can't seem to get it right, huh?" he said, holding his hand out as he turned to him. Dream stared for a moment, not getting it.

Nightmare sighed, plucking the smoke out of his fingers to take a drag himself.

"What do you mean?" Dream asked, tugging his knees to his chest.

"We seem to always argue, even when we don't mean to." Nightmare said, taking another drag. "I apologize for leaving you here. I just had to cool down for a moment. And I already know you're sorry, the guilt is practically dripping off you, so shut your mouth."

Dream sighed, ignoring him. "I'm sorry for what I said."

Nightmare groaned. "Did you not hear me? I said to shut your mouth. I already forgive you." He fell silent.

Dream looked away. "I..." He struggled for the right words. "I think...I think I've been taught that negativity is akin to a sin, something to atone for should you indulge in it. I am truly trying to understand that that is wrong, but..."

"You haven't had five hundred years to unlearn everything," Nightmare finished, saying what he was hesitant to. "I know. And it might be overdue, but I'm sorry for that." He seemed genuinely sad as he said it.

"It's not your fault."

"Isn't it?"

Dream frowned, turning bitter. "No. If anything, the villagers should be to blame." Something in his soul instantly tried to protest, still clinging to the belief that they were once friends. He shook it away.

Nightmare hummed. And Dream must really be getting sleep-deprived because he could've sworn he felt a prick of pride from his brother for saying such words. "I suppose you're right, brother." Taking one more drag, he held it out for Dream to take. "They were really shitty people, weren't they?"

With a heavy soul that felt ten times lighter from the simple act of Nightmare calling him his brother, Dream let himself smile. "They were. They really were." He took the cigarette and took the last drag, stamping it out with his foot.

They watched the stars together for the rest of the night.

[jinxquickfoot]

@badthingshappenbingo prompt: Human Shield

Find the fic on Ao3

Note: Second half is written from Tony's POV during Civil War, but not intended to be anti-Team Cap or anti-Steve.

2012

God, Tony wants to die.

“Put the shield down Rogers, or I’m going to shoot him in the head.”

Not literally, obviously. Figuratively. From embarrassment.

The guy they’ve been chasing for the past week is just that—a guy. A very well-trained, very strong guy, based on the burly arm gripping Tony by the throat, but still. Human shield is not Tony’s best look.

Steve is managing to appear, Tony begrudgingly admits, exponentially cooler. His expression is stoic behind the cowl and shield, the gun resting on the rim, film and steady. “Let him go, Batroc. It’s over.”

Batroc huffs, right in Tony’s ear. Tony cringes away because gross—he does not need this guy’s morning breath anywhere near his breathing passages—but that only presses his temple more firmly against Batroc’s firearm.

He’s already working on ideas to make the suit more portable. The suitcase design was a good start, but it had just taken one kick from the Frenchman to send it skidding out of reach. Tony’s hand-to-hand skills are far from weak, but he and Steve had been ambushed without warning, and apparently Batroc had decided that Tony was the more controllable hostage of the two.

Next time, this wouldn’t happen. He’d make some sort of suit he could carry on his person all the time, even just a gauntlet, so he’d be ready always.

But that was next time. This time, Tony has to make do with what he’s given. Which, at the moment, is the hostage training Natasha had forced him through for this exact scenario.

“You know I wear a two-hundred-pound suit around the bad guys, right?” Tony had scoffed. “I highly doubt one of them is going to be able to get me in a chokehold.”

Natasha’s response to that had been to, naturally, put Tony in a chokehold, not releasing him until he had agreed to let her show him a few moves.

“A human shield makes it harder to hit the target,” Natasha had told him. “But not impossible. Still, you want to reduce the odds of getting shot yourself as best you can, which means you aim for the ribs. Give us a window, and we’ll take the assailant out.”

They’d practiced it until Tony had it perfect. “There. You happy now, Romanoff?”

“Now that I know one of my friends is in slightly less danger than before? A little bit, yeah.”

Batroc’s blathering on about something else, demands or threats, but Tony isn’t listening. He catches Steve’s eye, raising an eyebrow. Ready? He sees Steve make the calculation—determining the risk. Then he makes eye contact with Tony, and nods. Ready.

Batroc doesn’t see it coming. He’s so focused on Steve that he’s completely unprepared when Tony slams his elbow into his solar plexus.

The gun at Tony’s head stutters, the hold around his throat loosening. It’s not enough to pull free, but the next moment there’s a bang, and then strong arms are grabbing his and pulling him to safety.

“Are you alright?”

Tony winces as he runs a hand over his surely bruised throat. Batroc is bellowing on the ground, bleeding from the shoulder, but neither Tony nor Steve pay him any attention. “Yeah,” Tony croaks, clearing his throat. Ow. “Just some bruised pride. Maybe a few other things. Nice shot.”

Steve claps him on the shoulder. “Always. Although not something I want to do often.”

“You getting squeamish, Captain?”

“Not for this,” Steve replies grimly. “For you—for anyone on the team—I’ll always make the shot. I promise.”

2016

Tony has been through a myriad of feelings the past couple of days, but the absolute panic of I’m about to be shot in the face is a new one. The swell of pride when one of his inventions works for the first time, however—that’s one he’s all too familiar with.

The nanotech gauntlet is barely out of the testing phase, but it’s the only one he’s allowed to carry these days under the Accords. He’s not meant to be using it, either, not without UN permission, but he thinks they’ll let him off the hook given there’s a feral Winter Soldier plowing through Avengers right now.

Catching the gun is the first thing that comes to mind when Barnes points the thing right in his face, his thoughts transforming from That was incredibly stupid to That was amazingly genius in a nanosecond. It’s also a nanosecond of distraction, where he’s not moving, not thinking, and apparently that’s all Barnes needs to get the upper hand.

Tony braces, preparing for the blow as the metal arm swings for his head, but the pain doesn’t come. Instead of a hit, he feels metal grip his throat, a human but inhumanely strong second hand wrap around his waist, as he hears the distant clatter of his glasses hitting the floor.

At the last possible second, Tony throws a counter-maneuver—one of the many, many moves he’d practiced with Natasha after the Batroc incident—but he doesn’t account for Barnes’s strength. The escape attempt does nothing, and then Tony finds himself helpless in the Winter Soldier’s hold.

“Release him.”

Barnes spins them both around, looking for escape paths, the arms around Tony tightening as T’Challa stalks towards them with claws at the ready.

“You will not escape here,” T’Challa adds, and Tony doesn’t know whether the calm murder in his voice is a point in or against his favor. Tony recalls the day he found out his own father had died. He hadn’t exactly handled it with aplomb. He can’t even begin to imagine how he’d react if he’d found out it was deliberate, that there was someone to blame outside of a lethal combination of windy country roads and whiskey.

Barnes responds by shifting his grip, too fast and too expert for Tony to take advantage, so his gun is pointing at Tony’s neck.

“That’s not going to help you.” A new voice. Barnes doesn’t turn to meet it, clearly more worried about the Black Panther. Natasha moves around to where they can both see her, meeting Tony’s eye. “Stay calm, Tony. We’ll get you out of this.”

Tony would love to believe her, but knowledge of just how deadly Barnes is even without a gun isn’t helping matters.

And then, a third voice. “Bucky!”

This time, Barnes does move, even though he’s careful not to let either T’Challa or Natasha out of his sight. Steve is running full tilt at them, not even bothering with the stairs as he leaps to the lower floor. The shield is missing, but Steve’s managed to acquire a gun. He holds it loosely between his fingers as though he’s worried it's going to burn him, not even trying to lift it when he sees the situation before him.

“Bucky,” Steve says again, all determination. “I know you’re in there. Stand down.”

Judging by the increase in pressure on Tony’s throat, Barnes has absolutely no intention of following that order. Tony chokes, instinctively trying to pry the arm away, but it’s like trying to shift concrete.

The gun in Steve’s hand twitches. “Bucky,” he says, yet again, his voice soft. “You’re not in danger. These are allies. I’m your ally. I know you remember me.”

Great, so Tony’s life depends on the memory of a guy with seventy years worth of brain damage.

“Steve,” Natasha murmurs—a warning. She’s eyeing the gun, as though thinking of grabbing it.

Steve notices. His response is to clutch it a little tighter. Which Tony reads as I know what I’m doing, Romanoff, back off. And apparently Barnes reads as This man is about to shoot me so time to run away.

Tony has no choice but to be dragged with him, feet unable to find purchase as Barnes starts backing through the building. More backup has arrived, but Tony’s unable to pay them much attention. He doubts any of them are willing to take a shot anyway, not with the gun trained on them, and not when he’s blocking so much of Barnes’s body.

The panic doesn’t properly set in until he realizes Barnes is taking him to the roof. “Hey, you don’t need—” he tries, but immediately gets cut off when more pressure is added to his throat. He blinks rapidly as they burst into sudden daylight, willing them to adjust, then almost wishing he was still blinded as he sees Barnes’s target.

Tony is just thinking that he really doesn’t want to find out if Barnes is planning to drag him onto that helicopter, or if his part here is done and he’s about to be disposed of, when another figure joins them on the roof. “Bucky, stop.”

Barnes doesn’t stop. He doesn’t go to the helicopter either. Instead, he drags Tony backward until they’re balanced on the edge of the roof, and Tony catches a glimpse of water way too far below them. The gun is still at Tony’s neck. Tony grimaces as he tries to move away from it, but Barnes’s grip is as resolute as ever.

“No one is going to hurt you,” Steve tries. “I know you’re confused, but I know you know me. I’m Steve. You’re Bucky. James Buchanan Barnes.”

Tony wishes he could have one ounce of Steve’s conviction. Maybe then his heart would stop pounding quite so fast.

Barnes doesn’t move. He doesn’t let him go. And Tony’s done playing damsel in distress. He raises his arms, just slightly, willing Steve to see the movement.

Steve does. His eyes go a little wider, his grip shifting on his gun. It’s not pointed anywhere near Barnes, but Steve’s reflexes are super-soldier fast. He’ll make the shot.

Tony watches Steve’s face, seeing the indecision there. Alright, give the guy a second to work through the idea of shooting his closest friend from the olden times. They only need a shoulder wound for Steve to get Tony out of this. Batroc had survived, and then healed well enough to escape SHIELD custody and had a second go at Steve on the Lemurian Star. And he wasn’t even a super-soldier.

Barnes will be fine, even if he ends up falling off the roof. Steve had survived a much longer fall in much worse condition from the helicarrier. Tony’s not so sure about his own well-being if they don’t do this. And he has no idea how long he has before Barnes either fires, snaps his neck, or throws him into the water below.

He brings his elbows up, and slams them backward.

Something snaps in his arm, pain ricocheting up his side, but none of that matters as time seems to slow. Because he’s not free. There was no gunshot. Just the sound of a finger squeezing a trigger, right beside his ear.

This is it. He’s dead. Steve didn’t take the shot and he’s dead.

That thought can’t have lasted longer than a quarter-second, but it feels like an eternity before he feels Barnes go rigid behind him.

Tony doesn’t waste the opening. He tugs the arm away from him, even as he sees Steve barrelling towards them. Tony remembers this part. Being tugged out of Batroc’s grip, beyond relieved even if there was no way he was showing it.

But when Steve reaches him, he doesn’t slow down. He doesn’t look at him. Tony is vaguely aware of a splash, and then Steve is launching himself off the roof, and gentle hands are gripping Tony’s bad arm.

“What—”

“I hit Barnes with a Widow’s Bite,” Natasha’s saying, tilting her bracelet up to show the missing disc. “Maybe you had a point about building ones you could throw.”

Tony cranes his head over the roof to where Steve has surfaced with an unconscious Barnes lolling in his arms.

“Hey.” Natasha tilts his face back towards her, concerned. “You okay?”

Tony blinks at her, trying to remember how to speak, but his voice is gone. He supposes nearly getting shot in the head twice in the space of ten minutes will do that to a person.

When she doesn’t get an answer, Natasha gently prods his elbow, making him wince. “Fractured,” she remarks. “You tried that move I showed you, huh?”

He had. And Steve hadn’t taken the shot.

He hadn’t… he hadn’t even looked at him.

“Come on.” Natasha helps him stand. “Let’s deal with that elbow, and then we’ll deal with the mess that just got one hundred times worse.”

Author's note: Steve believed that Bucky would never actually hurt Tony and therefore Tony was never in any real danger.

[movedtodykedvonte]

your tags said to send asks or you would post spamton essays but what if i Want the essays

anyway how do you think his attitude and behavior would change once he started to develop a crush on someone? does he hide it well or is it obvious somethings up? And how does this crush behavior differ between addispam, big shot, and current spam?

The essays are more or less random ramblings. I like writing them but the brain power to do so is absurd. As per Spamton’s behavior when developing a crush I feel like no matter what he’s the most incompetent love sick guy but in an endearing way. Overall I 100% think what initially makes him attracted to you is any patience, kindness or support you’d give him. Anyway my ideas under the cut

Addison Spamton

Addisons are a materialistic species at heart and so I feel his courtship starts by business favors. You’d notice a change when more off brand versions of your favorite stuff appear in his shop.

Or when he cuts his already dirt cheap prices even lower for you. He insists it just a perk for always supporting him despite being the perpetually unluckiest addison

He’d be pretty vague and shy about admitting anything. His business ventures rarely work out for him and he does not wanna risk the same when it comes to romantic ones

Still Addispam would go out of his way to hang around you, asking you for advice on flyers, products or lingering in low sale areas just to encounter you. 

If your a fellow ad I bet he’d go out of his way to only shop at your store

He thinks he’s slick and that you don’t notice how he seemingly values your opinion more than anyone's or how he constantly invades your space when practicing pitches or the thinly veiled flirts in the “drafts” of emails he plans to send out

He’s emotionally ooey gooey and like a love sick puppy and if you called him out he’d deny it all and his shop would be closed for a few days to emotionally recover

He either confesses through an email just so he doesn’t lose any courage in person or he sputters something incomprehensible out that you have to piece together as a confession. 

That or you’d have to make a deal to date him cause there’s no way I believe he’d not try and pitch himself to you like some black friday valentine sales

Big Shot Spamton

This guy may be successful now but he still sucks at romance and flirting.

He’s a lot more open about liking you but is still lacks that social confidence that would allow him to be suave.

I bet he asked the phone for advice trying to court you

If you knew him before bigshotification, he’d buy you a lot of everything he knows you like. He insists its just to repay all the years you supported and helped him before but it’s def a weird courtship thing

If he didn’t know you before he’d listen to whatever you remotely mention liking and buy you it in bulk. It’s anonymous in this case but it’s still obvious because he like hounds you if you liked the gift your secret admirer got you

He’s not trying to buy your affection but everyone around him seems to like him better when he splurges on them and he hopes it’ll make you really like him

Really shitty flirting and compliments, they just don’t make sense but he says them like they are the coolest thing. Some make you cringe but most make you giggle. Spamton thinks that means they’re working <:)

Would try to have hang outs with you that are just lavish dates. Drags you around by the hand, just to not lose you but it’s def an excuse to hold your hand

For whatever reason he considers bringing you on business meetings as dates/hanging out. You’re really just emotional support and something to look at

He’d try and confess like you hadn’t realized he’s had the fattest crush on you but make sure you have room to say no without worrying he’d stop pampering you.

The moment you even show any sort of reciprocation he starts showing you off like one of his new cungadero model

Current Spamton

I don’t think he’d truly hide it all at this point but he’s very vague on if it’s exactly a crush on you or just trying to butter you up for a con. Like if you ask he’ll just flirt then try to sell you trash

He insists on giving you minitons as like little helpers as like a business trade for your help/company. However, they just cling to you or swarm around you like let annoying and cuter gnats

He’s less sleazy towards you, he tries to scam you still but he gives you hints so you can back out, you let yourself get conned just for the banter

Talks about how he could treat you if he was a big shot still and all the places/things he’d show you. If you insist you could take him out he just laughs and says he’s not that easy

You are a hundred percent sure you see more stray pipis the closer to your home despite Spamton never agreeing to come to your home. Maybe you catch light reflecting off something pink and yellow before disappearing behind a corner. It’s cute in a stalkerish way

I feel like he has no shame now and outright says he finds you nice or cute or attractive but he never goes farther than a weird compliment or dirty joke.

He also keeps you way past the time you try to leave the trash zone. Weird pitches where he doesn’t even know what he’s selling to you. Just wants you to stay a little longer

He’s really scared of confirming anything cause he’s scared if his intentions are clear you’ll be disgusted and stop hanging out and he’s too attention starved to lose that

Despite all his boldness with hitting on you, you’d have to ask him... multiple times... and bribe him... and possibly drag him into your house. 

He wouldn’t make it easy but he’s grateful he didn’t have to humiliate himself trying to ask you in a sweet none glitched way.

Surprisingly I don’t think he’d be that bad or hopeless but he acts like the minitons don’t try to kiss you every time he summons them. Any version.

[albenyx]

11. they set us up, didn't they?

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[ɴᴀᴍᴇ]

A SECOND CHANCE

"make sure to enjoy! don't drink unless you want to embarrass yourself!" you hear sevy from the other side of the room, in her office, typing in her laptop and working her ass off.

"i won't!" you close the door, glaring at your phone, at ein's message to be specific. "I swear to archons, if i wasn't soft-hearted i wouldn't mind if i stood up the guy" you click your tongue as you walk to the meeting place, which was a cafe not too far away.

spotting the cafe you feel your hands start to sweat profusely, nervous. you never tried blind dates, your plan was to turn down whoever you were going on a date with. your cousin, ein had barely given you any information on who you're going on a date with.

"he's blonde, and he wears glasses," you remember her super useful description of the guy as you enter the cafe to look for a someone who's 'blonde with glasses' and luckily what ein had given you seemed useful enough when you spot a blonde guy sitting in a corner reading documents of some sort.

taking a seat, you sigh looking down at your hands "hello, i'm assuming your the guy for the blind date considering you're the only blonde here right now. listen, i'm sure you're a great guy but i'm— ..?" you pause when you look up to see a familiar face.

albedo..?

"oh" you see his brows furrow, as he moves to put his documents in a bag he brought. you pursed your lips awkwardly, watching him as he continues his actions. should you risk it?

"albedo-?.." you attempt to make conversation, confirming that he is albedo when you notice him pause his actions before he continued to fix the documents, looking at you right after.

"what are you doing here." he looks at you in a bored manner, and you only look at him sadly. albedo hates it, he doesn't like the image of you longing for him, silently begging him to let you explain. he hates it, he hates how he can't bring it in him to actually despise you, and it's annoying. "i.. was set up in a blind date." you mumble, tension, and awkwardness dancing in the air.

"oh"

he deadpans at you and sighs. "they set us up, didn't they?" you blurt out the question in realization "considering how kaeya cannot mind his business, yes. they did." albedo nods to you, and that's when you just look at him, making sure to take in his appearance and drilling the image into memory because you are not sure if you'll see him personally again after this.

albedo on the other hand is surprised at how much you changed, you seemed dull, and you looked more tired compared to back then. "so um.. can i have a few minutes of your time?" you'll try. you'll try and explain to him, and even if he won't believe you at least you can say that you tried.

he wants to say no, he wants to refuse to hear you out, this will hurt. he knows, yet he nods to your question and sits still. ready to hear whatever explanation you had.

you sigh out of relief when you see him stay seated, "so.. about the bet." you start already cringing at your chosen words "it.. was a dare. not that you were the target when it was made, it just happens that you were the man ein first laid her eyes on." you recall how your cousin boldly pointed at albedo when he entered your classroom

flashback

"him! that guy yeah! make him fall for you then you won't have to pay!" ein grins devilishly, and you sigh in defeat already feeling bad for the blonde guy who'll have to become your victim for a stupid bet you can't say no to.

"do I have to?" you look at your cousin, trying once more to let her change her mind "yup, it's either that or you pay us" she smiles, and you frown at her words "i can't just make someone fall in love with me then break their heart" you argue "relax! just tell him you don't return the feelings if he confesses! easy as that." your frown deepens at your cousin's words, and you frown even more when you realize you can't pay. not when you're a working student and barely make enough for your tuition, so you agree.

"i'm really sorry." you sigh, embarrassment creeping up on you when albedo doesn't respond and only stares at you. maybe i should go you pursed your lips awaiting for the man to say something "the damage has been done, there's no point in explaining things to me." he says and you feel your face heating up more in embarrassment

"right.." "give me a chance" was left unsaid "and it's not like i'm still in love with you. i've moved on, i suggest you do the same" he stands up, fixing his bag and you could only nod in understanding, why did you even think you had a chance?

on the other hand albedo was fighting himself, he was speechless, he doesn't know what to tell you. does he want you back in his life? he's already an anonymous person in your perspective. does he really want to give you and him another go? he's torn between yes and no, not sure if he should really give the two of you a chance.

"i.. understand. i just wanted to apologize again." you mumble also standing up and fixing yourself before you face albedo with a smile. i hate you, i hate that pretty smile. albedo's arms are itching to hug you, why would you still smile at me? i'm hurting you right now, stop smiling at me like that. "well then, i guess this will be our final goodbye?" you clear your throat, your heart hurts when you see albedo nod

"it is." it's not

"goodbye [name]" give me time

this isn't goodbye [name], i promise you that.

you give him one of your best smiles and nod "goodbye albedo"

and with that, albedo leaves you first. walking out the cafe and heading off to who knows where as you sat back down and stared at the table blankly that was it, you really were asshole.

SYNOPSIS — When you and Albedo break up right before college, you started to become a mess after you graduated, it was your fault for being an asshole so who were you to complain when you find out he's been doing well? Your adult life was just you being a carefree soul, partying every friday till sunday, do your job from monday to thursday, till on a saturday night you had called him while drunk! How would you react when you find out your ex pulled you out the bar and drove you home with zero complaints? the ex you had hurt for a bet?

NOTE — just like what albedo said, this isn't goodbye;)

taglist — @skaramush @ay4kshalatus @sunizome @shimenawas @biuun @sevynnee @rrinsluvr @sheiiy @shailuvs @hellsblessing @aromaticism @lovelyiez @crispynutduck @kaiyoschaos @lazy-sanns @sweetstrawberrybabe

likes and reblogs are highly appreciated !

[i-named-my-car-rhys]

A Stupid Question (and Cassian losing his pants)

Just some fluffy inner circle banter (mostly picking on Cassian) and Feyre learning a bit more about magic! 

This is the first acotar fic I’ve ever posted, let me know what you guys think :) 

Word count: 907

Rhys snapped his fingers and all the dishes vanished from the table, off to… I didn’t know where they went. I’d been in the Night Court for several months now, and yet I’d never asked. 

Mor laughed across the table at something Cassian had said, who was now grinning proudly. 

I didn’t notice Rhys had leaned toward me until I felt his breath, warm on my ear, as he murmured, “Everything alright, Feyre darling?” 

I bit the inside of my cheek, my mate tracking the movement. “I have kind of a stupid question,” I whispered back after a moment. Although I knew I had only been in Prythian for a little more than a year, I still felt embarrassment heat my cheeks at my lack of understanding of basic magic concepts such as this. 

“Believe me, darling, you would not think that at all if you heard some of the questions that have come out of Cassian’s mouth,” Rhys said with a grin. 

Azriel snorted from his position on my mate’s other side. Cassian glanced over from his conversation with Mor, noting the glimmer in Rhys’s eyes. “What’s so funny?” 

“I was just telling Feyre that it’s nearly impossible to ask a more stupid question than, ‘Do females shit too, or is that only males?’” Rhys replied innocently. 

“I was drunk!” The Illyrian general protested. 

“Doesn’t change that you had to ask,” the Shadowsinger chuckled. Cassian glared at Azriel, who simply shrugged. Amren shook her head and sighed. 

“What’s your question, darling?” Rhys asked me again. I had to admit, his attempts to make me more comfortable made me fall even more in love with him. 

“Well, I’ve been wondering for a while now,” I started, cringing slightly at the stares from the five centuries-old fae, “How does the… vanishing work?” 

I was relieved when nobody immediately laughed. Rhys opened his mouth but Mor answered first. “It can go one of two ways. Either we send the items to the pocket realm,” she started, and I nodded along having heard about that from Rhys before, “Or we can send them to another place in the world.” 

“The risk with that,” Amren added, “Is that it may be difficult to know if there’s something else in the place you send the object to.” 

Rhys nodded. “For example, say I wanted to move this glass of wine to Cassian’s chair, but I was in another room and didn’t know he was sitting there. This would happen.” 

Rhys snapped his fingers. I could only watch as the wine glass appeared on top of Cassian’s head and started to tip forwards. Faster than I could blink, the Illyrian warrior snatched the glass out of the air before it could spill all over him. Glaring at the High Lord beside me, Cassian set Rhysand’s glass down in front of himself. “You are not getting this back.” 

My mate smirked as he snapped his fingers again and the wine glass appeared in his other hand. Cassian huffed and rolled his eyes. I tried and failed to hold back a wide grin. 

That explained how Rhys was able to pass back and forth the notes we’d written to each other in my earlier months with him in the Night Court. I mentally added vanishing to the list of skills I wanted to learn. 

“Does that answer your question?” Rhys asked, sipping from his wine glass. 

“Yes, but what’s to stop someone from vanishing another’s belongings? Such as an enemy’s weapon on a battlefield, or…” I couldn’t help but add, “An enemy’s pants during an important meeting?” I couldn’t help but imagine the look on Tamlin’s face if Rhysand had done that to him. 

Mor burst out laughing. “What, like this?” She snapped her fingers. I didn’t see anything happen–until Cassian suddenly looked down at his lap with wide eyes, wings flaring slightly behind him. 

“Mor, what the f–” 

The blonde-haired female snapped her fingers again. Cassian pushed out his chair, palms flat on the table, and growled at Mor. Fortunately, his pants had been returned. 

“That, Feyre darling, is why.” Rhys gestured towards the Illyrian who looked ready to start a brawl with the grinning female beside him. 

Azriel chuckled from the other side of the table. “It had quite a similar effect on Kier.” 

I stared at the High Lord beside me in disbelief. “You did that to Kier?” 

My mate laughed as he leaned back in his chair, the sound music to my ears. “A long time ago. I’ve since moved onto more sophisticated ways of irritating Mor’s father.” 

“Glad I wasn’t there for that,” Mor muttered. I couldn’t say I felt sorry for the truly awful steward of the Court of Nightmares. Only satisfaction at the thought of his mortification. 

“As for vanishing weapons in battle,” Rhys continued, “It’s simply a matter of practicality. It would take far too long to vanish enough individual weapons to make an impact in a battle. It would also be considered rather dishonorable.” 

I considered this. “Would you teach me how to do that? Vanish things, and use the pocket realms?” The possibilities with that kind of skill were endless. 

“Of course, darling,” Rhys said, mischief dancing in his star-flecked eyes. Perhaps we could start in the bedroom. I can think of a few things I’d love for you to vanish there, my mate purred down the bond. I kicked him under the table. 

[siriannatan]

Heroes of Empires City Chapter 7

I was close to giving up on having a chapter for this week since I was not feeling too well this week. But I managed to get a bit of a shorter one put together. Not my best work but it gets us places for the next chapter.

AO3

Tinkerer's second debut was on Scott's day off so he had full opportunity to see it from the civilian's perspective and he had one thing to say - fWhip looked damn cook in a more fitting leather jacket. And all the dark brown made his hair and wings stand out so much more and... And the damn fire was hot to see in action. It was a bit sad the scarf was gone but since it was a gift from Jimmy, Scott guessed fWhip did not want to risk damaging it anymore. A fair and personal reason and something he'd be asked on the talk show...

Scott was dreading it a little. It would be his first time on one of those and Tinkerer wasn't known for much of formal appearances on shows like that. An interview if the media caught him after he caught a villain happened. Obviously. Not even Scott managed to avoid the media as much as he seemed to them to try - as evidenced by the photo that had him and fWhip have to show up on TV.   And fWhip's flying ability. Scott was glad he could see that with some distance because it was frankly impressive how quickly he was learning. They were still meeting to practice some more complicated manoeuvres but at this point, it was more a fun part of the job than the mandatory practice Katherine assigned them. She had good reasons. They wouldn't always fight in conditions that made flying easy.

Unfortunately, good days had to come to an end and Scott and fWhip were herded into a TV studio. Given a quick tour of the main stage and were introduced to the host. Angeline. a pretty but unnerving woman with far too much interest in their private life. At least Katherine was there to force some distance before they were stashed in a greenroom until it was their time to talk. At least it was a short slot...

Jimmy wasn't sure what to do with himself with fWhip and Scott's interview coming up. He did have a bad feeling about it though. But wasn't sure why. He and Scott were just friends and he wasn't even on speaking terms with fWhip but... the idea of the two cutest guys he knows, ignoring the hero problem, and being seen as a couple was... making him annoyed for some reason.

Tinkerer's new costume was really cool. Too cool for the absolute nerd fWhip was under it. The lack of scarf stung a lot. Even if he was angry fWhip included it in his hero costume and thought Jimmy would not figure it out. But even with all that he had to admit one thing - Scott and fWhip looked damn good on their own but when put together... How was he supposed to work with them and be angry at them if he knew the two cute guys under the costumes? And... 

Maybe he should have talked to fWhip instead of just letting him break up with him...

"I know we got the questions ahead of time and all that but I don't feel at all ready," fWhip sighed, staring at the floor.

"Well, if our host gets out of control Katherine'll just cut the show," Scott tried to cheer him up despite sharing his statement.

There wasn't much time to talk since shortly after that they were called to the stage. And introduced in probably the most cringe way possible. "Empires City's guardian angel and the hidden dragon - Major and Tinkerer." Scott was tempted to just leave after that and wondered why the PR team never discussed that with them...

"Welcome and once again thank you for dropping by, I know heroes lead a busy life protecting the City," the host smiled widely shaking their hands before they sat down. Separate comfy chairs but fWhip had some shuffling to do to be comfy. "We can get a different chair in if needed," the host offered seeing said shuffling.

"No need, just still getting used to these," fWhip politely declined. Scott could see Katherine nod behind the cameras.

"Speaking of, I and a lot of our viewers were all shocked how quickly you recovered from that," Angeline, or Angie as she said they can call her. Over Scott's cold dead body... "And flying with so much grace." fWhip would never call his flying that but still smiled.

"Well, I had a good teacher," he explained, gently nudging Scott. "It'd be stuck in the training room for forever without Major being patient with me," he chuckled, getting small applause from the live audience. Katherine kept looking pleased with the conversation.

Angeline nodded but her smile faltered. Scott guessed she was not the biggest fan of Major. "That's great to hear. Any reasons for a costume change this big? I hear people are missing the scarf."

"Well... that was a gift from a friend and after that Shadow Master clash I might have realised I probably shouldn't include something that personal in my costume. On the other hand, flopping coats and scarfs make flying hard," fWhip tried to laugh it off. Costume change was an expected topic but not that the scarf would be the centre. His glance at Katherine was rather obvious and the audience glanced that way too.

Scott was starting to feel he was there just for one topic. The photo. And Angeline would spend all the time talking to fWhip over him. "Yes. That was a big event for the city. A hero's power evolving and a big villain caught..." she droned on and kept talking to only fWhip. And Scott listened nodding and not seeing any chance to put anything in. He could see Katherine arguing with someone behind the scenes. And it was that moment of distraction Angeline used to move to her main topic.

"A lot of the fans wonder about this picture from that day," she asked, very smugly, and the picture of fWhip in Scott's arms showed on screen. fWhip froze. Likely forgetting everything he was supposed to say after Angeline went over his whole rivalry with Shadow Master. "It must have been nice...."

"Well, Tinkerer was obviously unable to fight and even with the both of us there Stratos didn't see a good way to keep Shadow Master in check so he send me away with him, knowing I could get that done fast," Scott took over the answer and the audience clapped a bit.

Angeline was not too happy about him but kept going. "There have been many interesting theories online..."

"I can assure everyone we're just friends. Being a hero leaves little time for other things," Scott carried on talking. Now a bit worried why fWhip was suddenly very silent.

Jimmy was not in the slightest bit shocked the show was cut. There was no way that's how Katherine and the hero PR team wanted the interview to go that way. And... And Jimmy was close to looking what laws might have been broken there  just so he could show up and let out his anger at that unpleasant woman for nearly causing fWhip a panic attack... He was also considering getting Scott a box of chocolates for stepping in before he caught himself. They broke up. He should not be getting so defensive... Why did he care so much still?

No matter the reason he did. And... was fWhip being a hero that good of a reason to just let the break up happen? Maybe he should talk to fWhip. And Scott too... 

Not that he was given much of a chance to think anymore about it.

Shadow Master did not like the talk show and has escaped from prison...

Luckily he managed to buy enough time for Katherine to get in touch with the important people at the station since the show was apparently making problems and cut it all short. The moment 'cut to commercials' was called Angeline, ignoring the two heroes ran up to her superior who was arguing with Katherine and a short man in a fancy suit.

Scott ignored that commotion and turned to fWhip. "You okay?"

"Yeah... I just... I panicked..." fWhip whispered back. The very confused audience was still there whispering and wondering why the show ended so suddenly that they had to keep up their professional appearance.

"The interview went off the rails, it's not how she was supposed to ask. Katherine's arguing with them about agreement breeches and stuff. You two can go back to the Tower," Pearl jogged up to them with an apologetic smile. 

"Thanks, Pearly, and good luck with the mess," Scott agreed and led fWhip out to the parking lot behind the building. There wasn't really any better place for them since the helicopter pad was needed for other things.  

Having Jimmy be the first thing they saw upon coming back did not spell any good things.

"Sheriff? Can we help you? Katherine's still at the TV station," Scott was not at all apprehensive to talk to the man. If a bit worried about what brought him to the tower.

"Shadow Master broke up during that interview, we lost all track of her," Jimmy said sternly, glancing at fWhip. "How was the interview?"

"Went off the tracks. Could Shadow Master have seen it? Do you need any of us to help with anything at the prison?" fWhip was instantly back to Tinkerer mode. "Or should we wait for Katherine?"

Jimmy had no time to wait for Katherine and Amethyst was already at the prison so Scott and fWhip stayed at the tower. And relayed the news to Katherine who was not too happy to hear it next to having to sue the talk show about breaching the contract. 

"Major, you keep an eye on Tinkerer for now, if she shows up I need you two to get to any other hero. NO fighting her just the two of you," she told them before dismissing them.

Needless to say, fWhip was not thrilled about it.

"All this training and stuff and the moment she shows up I'm almost put in house arrest. I can take care of myself," he complained as they changed for training. "At least it's you and not my sister..." he sighed.

Did Scott have any good response to that? No. "Why is Shadow Master so obsessed with you?" so he used deflection.

"I honestly have no idea. As far as I know, it's how she's been since she showed up, obsessed with me and my inventions," he sighed.

They dropped the topic for the rest of the day which was shockingly calm. Shadow Master was not acting yet. Likely plotting her next big move to try and get Tinkerer to switch to her side. What was going to fail since fWhip had no intention of becoming a villain.

Even with the threat of Shadow Master's revenge Scott had a feeling things would all go well. That is until, in the middle of a solo patrol - Katherine decided only fWhip needed extra protection - something knocked him out...