#printing this on my brain so everytime I feel defeated I look at it

[borkthemork]

Drabble Request: Anne and Marcy after her rescue

You know what, Anon? You get a 2,600 word draft as a treat. Thank you for your patience!

-----

Anne had read books before.

She wasn't the kind of person to read long-winding literature like the typical bookworms back home, but she did read whatever interested her. From magazines to comics to zoo books about bird mating dances, Anne liked stuff that had meat to it.

Give her enemies to lovers, she'd cheer at the makeouts. Give her gut wrenching biographies about surviving the Himalayas, she'd bawl her eyes out. And if one gave her story about being one's true self under the guise and acceptance of a duck instructor then she'd quack it up and never be heard from again.

There needed to be meat, drama, scenes of people kissing in the rain. Stories were all about getting punched in the gut over some random guy, and that would always be the best part!

So she had no idea why Cynthia Coven never stood out to her.

It might be because of the choppy writing style or perhaps fantasy wasn't her thing, but that didn't make sense to her. After all, she'd read anything as long as it was interesting and somehow the Coven books just…didn't stick?

Sure, Cynthia had a pet squirrel. Anne could find a squirrel at the park anytime. Cynthia had spells, curses, people with talking body parts that shouldn't be talking at all. Okay, cool — ugh, why wasn't she interested? Everything about it seemed right up her alley!

She chalked it up to preferences and moved on. 

But somehow, after all these years, the same book fluttered between the pages in her hands. And she found herself narrating, speaking the paragraphs out loud under the green canvas of her tent. 

All because the bedridden girl beside her couldn't sleep. 

It had been forty-six hours since Anne and the girls united. It felt a lot longer than that, if she wanted to be honest, but all the footing, fighting, and planning they did to get out unharmed from Andrias's castle had taken a toll on them. And for Mar-mar even more so, what with the amount of stuff that went down. A lot of explosions. Crying. Frog-on-frog violence.

So in this tent came privacy. Not enough privacy to basically stop Sprig or Sasha from barging in, but the makeshift walls were one of the most protected cliff faces inside the forests. So they were basically between a rock and a hard place.

And since Amphibia's nature became a hazard to not only the typical frog but aggro robot intruders, nothing got through as a threat in the end. Not even the huge mother frobo that she and Sash fought days prior.

Anne flipped a page.

The cold draft had slipped in and raised goosebumps on her umber skin. It almost seemed surreal that Summer started to transition out with the months passing, but the chirp of birds and the lack of cicada song had marked a new season, and now Anne shivered slightly with her narration.

Marcy's wounds needed to heal. From the remains of the stab wound to the headache to the numerous nicks upon her feet, if she didn't start sleeping then the medicine Maddie gave wouldn't come into effect anytime soon.

And if she didn't snore in the next ten minutes, Sash would have to knock her out with some sleepshroom grub saute and Anne wasn't going to let her get drugged anytime soon.

But from what was currently happening, Anne became unsure.

Marcy's eyes fluttered shut a few times. She would start drifting off at some random part in the story and then jolted back to listening intently as if nothing had happened. Nothing in the book could get her to sleep. Not Cynthia's introduction to werebeasts, her dramatic one-liners, or how she got knocked out for a minute straight from drinking a pint of Canadian beer.

Wait, could teens drink beer in Canada? Gah, that wasn't important!

What was important was that Marcy looked dead — terrifyingly dead — and no matter how much Anne tried to keep her eyes on the words, the fear clung to the recesses of her mind, asking if everything was going to be alright despite the girls' current luck streak.

That maybe this would be the last time she'd ever see Marcy alive. All because she fell asleep.

Anne leveled her voice when these thoughts struck her, and hoped Marcy didn't note the hitch in her throat or how she blinked faster to catch herself from crying.

Because Marcy was strong. She was stronger than people gave her credit for.

Anne peered down. Marcy's thumb had pressed to the side of Anne's fingers, their eyes meeting for a second; one harbored bags under her eyes, the other of worry.

"I promise I'll sleep." Her smile reached her gaze, the weariness plain on her worn out dimples and ashen cheeks. Anne might need a washcloth later. "It's been a long time since I've read the Cynthia Coven series, my brain can't help but pay attention."

"I know, Mar-mar." Anne closed her eyes for a second and let out a relaxed sigh. "Seven months can be pretty long."

"Tell me about it." Marcy's eyes lingered at the ceiling, licking her lips. "I've been so busy with everything that's been happening that I've barely caught up with the latest book."

"Yeah." Anne smiled. "You know they've got a new release out?"

She blinked. Almost as if Anne punched her in the face at that moment. "Are you serious? Aw man, I missed so much."

"Hey, it's alright. It'll be waiting for you when we get back." Besides, Anne already wrapped the edition in a lot of Christmas paper, might as well keep the surprise.

But Marcy still looked miserable. She pouted,  letting her sink more into the mattress almost comically, and Anne bit back a laugh when she groaned. "Oh man, I'm so excited, this sucks! At least tell me if Cynthia gets over the Bridge of Quintessence."

"I don't know what that means and besides, you're two books behind, why would you wanna spoil it!"

They shared a laugh and carried on. Anne missed this. She did. In between the page clips and the eagerness flowing in Marcy's voice, it almost seemed like they were back to what they once were: Two girls laughing and making fun of bad jokes, giggling at stuff that didn't make sense in the story. It almost made the worries over Andrias and her parents grow into background noise.

Almost.

Anne perked up. A question had flown past her, and now Marcy stared at her, inquiry clear in her eyes. "Oh, sorry, I zoned out a bit. What'd you say, Marbles?"

"I'm curious, Annarama."

"Curious about what?"

Marcy's eyes traveled over her shoulder for a second. Was it the fatigue? Judging from how she fiddled with her fingers, the question must've been something serious, maybe something about Andrias or what happened back in the castle.

Whatever it was, Anne readied herself as she waited.

And then:

"Is that mine?"

Anne blinked. She ogled her book, then at the bedside table with its medicinal herbs, then the Thai Go logo printed fresh on her shirt. "What's yours?"

She pointed to Anne's waist.

When Anne looked down, the realization struck her like a bat. Under the filtered sunlight, she almost forgot that the yellow jacket around her waist was there to begin with, snug and tight in that hard knot Anne tied everytime she stepped out of the house.

And somehow, it remained clean from countless dimensional hops and Super Saiyan power-ups. And now it was here. Being scrutinized by her and the girl opposite her.

With that, she started to sweat.

Right, that.

A nervous laugh burst out from her mouth, making Marcy stare at her more out of concern.

How was she going to explain that?

"Oh, yeah! I almost forgot!" She rubbed her neck, trying her best to pick out the right reasons in her mind, but nothing stuck out to her. "It's a funny story actually, so funny that you'll probably forget in the morning so why not another time?"

A smile formed. "I don't know, Anne." Her eyes scrunched up too in pleasure, pressing her thumb against Anne's knuckles. "I'm all for sleeping to a comedy. Remember when we watched Borat? I laughed so hard I passed out."

"Oh, Mar-mar, that's not what I mean."

"Then what do you mean?" She then pulled her hand away, frowning. "Unless I'm pushing you, then I'll just—"

"No, no. You're fine!" What wasn't fine was how her heart pounded against her chest. Or, that the more she tried to take a deep breath, Marcy's growing concern made her laughter sound more like an old man wheezing from an asthma attack.

Anne was about to make a dumbass out of herself and that was fine! As long as she stayed calm and explained then maybe she wouldn't feel nervous about this.

Wait, why was she nervous anyway? It was just a jacket!

Oh, she knew why.

"Okay." Anne placed the book down, trying to regain her breath. Might as well go for it. What was the worst that could happen? Don't answer that. "So you remember how I've been trying to find my way back after I got through the portal?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, I didn't want to forget. Not like I would've but I thought you died and I knew taking down Andrias was the only way to avenge you and get Sasha back." Anne sharply inhaled — words speeding past her ears. "So I thought 'Hey, I'll carry your jacket so I don't forget' and I basically wore it around everyday until I finally found a way back. So…"

Marcy's stare didn't help her sweating as she spoke, giving jazz hands to finish it all off. "Here I am. Yeah."

Marcy continued to stare at her. She'd never seen her this gobsmacked before; usually she found a way to ask questions, to let her enthusiasm shine through with eager stride, but now she became a deer in the highlights. All agape. All wide-eyed.

Oh Frog, I broke her.

"Mar-mar, you okay?"

"So you wore my jacket as a reminder to stop Andrias," she asked slowly, "after months of finding a way back?"

Anne puffed out her cheeks. "Maybe?"

"Anne…"

"Okay, okay, yeah." She hung her head, defeat in her voice. "I did."

"Oh." Marcy's eyes widened to the size of saucers, a shaky exhale breaking through. "Oh."

Anne stood up. If she didn't get out in the next fifteen seconds, she was going to explode. "Okay, yep! That's it for the Cynthia Coven series! Goodnight, Mar-mar, I'll check up on you later—!"

"Wait, wait!"

Marcy latched onto her wrist. Her ears pounded on, hard to focus with her sweaty palms and the shallowness of her breath. Because this whole situation was awkward and weird and it made her feel funny things in her heart and darn it Anne should've handled this back on Earth — not while they were stuck in the middle of a Frog darn war!

"Anne, please look at me."

She did. 

When she turned, the sight surprised her. Marcy's cheeks had darkened considerably as they held each other's gazes, the hold on her arm still having them tethered to one another.

Then the touch loosened slightly. It didn't speak of fear nor did it speak of pain. It didn't speak of the desperation Marcy once had when she held her fists in the broken halls of the Newtopian castle. What Anne instead found was reassurance. A reassurance in their interlocked hands, at how they gazed intently under the tent canvas, a heat creeping well onto Anne's cheeks too.

"It's really sweet that you wore my jacket like that." Marcy then bore down at the bedding lines, almost squeaking her words. "And very clever! Yeah! Because a physical reminder is a great alternative to notebooks and to-do list, and since my jacket has emotional connotations to me, of course you'd wear it! It just makes sense."

Marcy coughed into her sleeve, words almost a whisper. "You've always been good at improvising, after all."

"Mar-mar..."

"And thank you."

Anne stopped. She could've honed in on the bustling Wartwoodians outside. Or the rustle of the forest trees. But she focused on the comforting tap of Marcy's fingers, and the gleam in the girl's eyes — almost as if Marcy was about to cry.

"You've always been kind," she murmured. Her fingers trailed circles on Anne's palms, leaving her to shudder slightly under the touch. Especially when Marcy's eyes grew half-lidded. Remorse on her lips. "And to know you worked so hard after everything I did to you and Sash, I don't how I'll ever make it up for it."

"You don't have to do that," she said. Her words drifted between them, remembering what Mrs. Wu said a few months ago: That Marcy was the best out of all of them. Because she always needed to be. "What Andrias did was not your fault, and I'll beat him again if he ever makes you think it is."

"Besides," she said, putting on a smile. "Having you beside me has always been enough. Honest."

But Marcy's grief remained on her face, unspoken as her fingers faltered their dragging on Anne's palms.

Because she wanted to hold her hand instead, both their fingers trembling from the bedridden girl's arm.

"Anne, I hurt you. I did. No matter how much I try to justify myself, I still omitted everything about what I knew." Her eyebrows furrowed, glaring more at their shaky hands. "I was selfish. I wasn't honest."

"Don't say that. You didn't know this would happen, I understand this now."

"But you're still angry." Marcy sighed. "I know you are."

The conifers rustled silently. The faraway bugs whistled, occupying each interval as they held hands, their gazes observing anything but the other. Until Anne couldn't think up a better excuse anymore.

As much as Anne tried to forgive, there was something frightening about the resentment in her skin, underneath all that warmth. It went against every lesson she learned. Every lesson of compassion. Or maybe she was just denying it for what it truly was — a tight angry wound that had reason to exist as much as their handlock. 

Her body sagged at the thought. She'd gotten so far, trying to deny anything about herself would reverse so much.

"Yeah," she said softly. "I'm still mad. I don't want to be, but I am. But that doesn't mean I was gonna leave you guys in the middle of a war." The next words were under her breath. "I never wanted you guys to get hurt in the first place."

Marcy brushed her knuckles. "Take as much time as you need."

"I think a few months is enough."

"Or a year."

A smile. "Maybe more."

And Anne held her hand until the silence heard their heartbeats. Until their smiles returned slowly, surely.

"I talked to Sasha before you came in," Marcy said.

"You did?"

She nodded. "Mhm. And I don't know if she told you this, but we both agreed to a concordance." Marcy faltered. "An agreement I mean."

Anne snorted. "You don't have to dumb yourself down around me."

"Heyy, I'm not, I just don't want this to sound...clinical."

"Right."

The younger girl shuffled closer to her, which was surprising enough with the limited room on the bed itself. But when Anne held her eyes, there came recognition of something new. Was it relief? Worry?

"What we agreed on is that you don't have to forgive us. Maybe you'll be mad at us for a long time—"

"Mar-mar, I'm not—"

"Let me finish," she said softly. Anne hesitated. She resolved to caress Marcy's knuckles instead, and, of course, she didn't seem to mind. "Whatever happens, whatever you decide, we're not going to abandon you. If you want us out of your life, we'll respect it. If you want us to stay, then we'll respect that too."

Marcy inhaled, slow and careful. 

"And when you're ready, I'll make sure to be close by."

There had been times where Anne couldn’t predict what her future held. There had been numerous moments where Anne wanted to quit, to get angry, to question how her life hit upon all these coincidences like pinball and found herself in the most surprising of situations.

But when Marcy finished, stared at her, waiting for her to let her statement sink in, everything seemed to click in place. For just a single moment.

Each word had come out resilient, well thought-out. Anne could imagine the planning so clearly: How Sasha and Marcy sat in the same positions as them, sat with their heads together as they discussed what to say. And the more Anne listened, she could only hope that Sasha was just around the corner, ready to say the same things in her own Sasha-like way.

But for now, they gripped each other's hands, squeezed their fingers until Anne could only think of the heat. The burn in her nose. Then the bit-back sob and her trembling lip as Marcy pressed a thumb carefully to Anne's cheek, rubbing the tear trail away.

Because out of everything Anne predicted to find at the other end of the portal, it wasn’t this. 

"You promise?"

Marcy smiled, the ends of her lips twitching weakly. "I promise this time." Her voice broke. "I do."

With it, came the waterworks.

[bisexualsforprompto]

A Ladybug’s Revenge

This will most likely be a one shot.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If Marinette had the words to describe the intense hate she felt when he walked into the room she would.

She might say that everytime he spoke to her, the acid dripping from his vile words made her dig her nails into her skin and grit her teeth.

Maybe she’d say that when he blamed her for something, not being on his moral compass it made her pray for release.

Or she could say that the very way he held himself, the very way he stayed out of conversations made him look timid, but how could a timid coward of a pacifist make her feel like she wanted to throw up and shove him out of a window at the same time?

Everything she felt about Adrien Agreste made her feel so contradictory. She wanted him dead but at the same time she wished she was dead.

She wished she was dead so that she could show him that lies did hurt, that lies could kill.

She wished he was dead because everytime he stared at her and smiled she felt boiling hot rage course through her veins. Every single muscle tensed. Yet he didn’t care what he did to her, he only cared about his own selfish ideas.

Adrien might’ve preached taking the high road but he was a hypocrite, as low as they could get. He said he didn’t want Lila to be akumatized.

Marinette thought it admirable at first.

Then she found out.

As guardian Marinette had to know who Chat Noir was, so she asked Tikki for his identity. She couldn’t say she was surprised, but everything had truly clicked the moment she saw the blonde the next day.

He didn’t want Lila akumatized, he didn’t want her lies exposed, because he didn’t want to deal with the backlash.

Lila was a formidable foe, so by handing her every battle and all her enemies heads on a silver platter Adrien was able to keep himself from having to work too hard.

Because god forbid the model had to work for once in his life.

Marinette had seriously considered ending it all. One could say out of sheer spite. She wanted to see the look on his face when he found out she took her own life because of him. A beautiful revenge and it would ruin his life.

No more Ladybug to love, no more Marinette to be his friend, and a gigantic mess for him to solve...because Marinette would tell the class every single thing before she died.

She had written the letter outlining all the lies and giving all the evidence, she written every little thing her classmates did to her, she made sure Adrien had the longest section.

Harassing her when Marinette was Ladybug and standing idly by at her suffering when she was Marinette.

The letter had ended being almost five pages.

But Marinette burned it. She wasn’t taking her life.

For one, she wasn’t the problem and two, if she were dead she would never see the look on Adrien’s face or anyone’s for that matter when the truth came out.

She still had many who stood beside her.

She had her parents, she had Kagami, Alya and Luka, and she had the kwamis.

She had a duty to protect the people she loved, the city she loved, even if there were those in it who she didn’t.

But most of all she had a plan.

The night she decided to put her plan into action she told her parents everything. Ladybug, the Lila situation, everything that Adrien, Chat Noir, had done.

Tom was furious and Sabine was even more so. Marinette had called Kagami, Luka and Alya to her house. The six of them, plus the kwamis when Marinette introduced the miracle box were ready to work.

Marinette knew since Adrien was Chat Noir he couldn’t be Hawkmoth, but after consulting the kwamis Gabriel Agreste was back on the table.

Her parents, Luka, Kagami, Alya and she mapped out every akuma occurrence, besides the Collector incident he was nowhere to be found every single time. They scoured every single footage from attacks, no Gabriel.

Until they found traffic camera footage, apparently Kagami had picked up hacking as a hobby when she wasn’t busy with fencing. It was foolish for Gabriel Agreste to mutter to himself after the Animistro was defeated, they heard every word. And that was all the confirmation Marinette needed.

Kagami had wielded the mouse miraculous, Luka the snake, and Sabine the turtle. Kagami had hacked into the Agreste’s security feed so Tom was there lookout. Alya waited on a rooftop nearby the Agreste mansion waiting for her task, the most important one.

In the dead of night the four miraculous wielders snuck into the Agreste manor.

They found Gabriel Agreste sleeping, hunched over in his office. Luka activated his second chance and Kagami used her multitude.

The small Kagami mice had run over to Gabriel on his desk and took his brooch off him without alerting the man.

At the same time Marinette and Sabine had gone upstairs to Adrien’s room.

Ladybug pulled off his ring in his slumber and right after it was fully in her grasp Adrien woke up.

Sabrine used her shelter around the boy, creating a force field he couldn’t get out of.

“Adrien Agreste, I hereby relinquish you of the black cat miraculous, and deem you unfit to ever wield any miraculous again.” Marinette spoke steadily as Adrien banged against the protection around him.

Marinette grabbed her mother and swung her yo-yo out of Adrien’s window. She dropped in front of the manor in a Spider-Man like fashion. Kagami and Luka ran outside to her.

“It took a few second chances but-“

Kagami shoved Hawkmoth’s miraculous to Marinette.

“Good. Now one last thing…” Marinette leaped onto a nearby building, the others following her soon after. They began working on the most important part of the plan…

Adrien Agreste couldn’t believe his eyes. In huge bold print on the Ladyblog read “Ladybug reveals identity after Hawkmoth’s defeat, watch the whole video to help Ladybug get justice.”

Adrien shakily pressed play, his lady had taken away his miraculous but maybe he could still make her his, the first step would be finding her identity.

“Hello Paris,” Ladybug begun with a stone cold look gracing her face, “You know me best as Ladybug, but underneath the mask I am not as strong.” The bluenette sucked in a breath, “I have been harassed by my ex partner Chat Noir and his civilian identity as well. In addition I have been a victim of relentless bullying at my school, this involves a liar, Adrien Agreste, yes the model, and the rest of my class. I am not telling you this so that you take matters into your own hands,” Ladybug said as she stared at the camera dead on. “I am telling you this because I need my class to know lies do hurt, you all know and trust me as Ladybug, but my civilian identity is considered to be a bully. I’m here to disprove that.” Ladybug sighed before whispering, “Spots off.” A blinding pink light surrounded her.

Adrien’s bugaboo was there no longer, Marinette Dupain-Cheng was staring in front of him. “I, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, was Ladybug. Revealing my identity was the only way to get everything to end. Some of you will be happy to know,” Marinette growled, “That you made me want to kill myself.” Adrien winced. “I wanted to die because of the people in Paris. But that doesn’t matter anymore.” Marinette gave a shy smile, “I am here to tell you that because Hawkmoth is defeated I will no longer be Paris’s saviour.”

Adrien gasped. Marinette was abandoning Paris? Didn’t she remember what he said about the high road?

“I have experienced physical torment and emotional abuse from school. The old Chat Noir was sexually harassing me on the job and to top it all off one man knew all about this and did absolutely nothing. The man who used to be Chat Noir, Adrien Agreste.

“Adrien, if you’re watching this I need you to know: I am not your Lady. I am not anybody’s. I also want you to know that if you try to find me you will not succeed. I am leaving France and nobody will ever see me again. I won’t tell you where I’m going, but I will tell you why...Adrien Agreste, Lila Rossi, Gabriel Agreste, and Caline Bustier, you are the reason that Ladybug will no longer stay in Paris.” Adrien’s eyes widened, it couldn’t be true…

“This is Ladybug, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, signing off. Bug out.”

The feed stopped. Adrien threw his phone on the ground, leaving it shattered as he stomped out of his room. He refused to believe it.

Gabriel Agreste had to admit he was bested, but there were two things Ladybug or Miss Dupain-Cheng forgot. One was the peacock miraculous that he had just fixed and the second was the crucial fact that he always got what he wanted. No matter what the cost.

Marinette stared out the window feeling her shoulders relax as the cab passed a dismal grey sign. She sighed and smiled, feeling a new beam of hope shine into her life. She read the sign and began to dream of her class’s faces when they watched the video, she then pushed it away, ready to start her new life,

“Welcome to Gotham.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ngl, I have no idea what this was it was going somewhere and then my brain went FUCK IM TIRED, I am so sleep deprived and I wasn’t planning on writing anything this weekend but here we are posting this weird ass salt fic that I wrote in a night and am definitely going to regret tomorrow...YOLO.

(This wasn’t really Maribat but it was kind of I guess) Tag list:

@northernbluetongue

@queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm

@luciferge

@legendaryneckjudgestudent

@interobanginyourmom

@beaversuenightly

@worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry

@mochinek0

@shamefullove

@emjrabbitwolf

@actual-disaster-human

@littleredrobinhoodlum

@elijahcoser

@daminett4life

@18-fandoms-unite-08

@kawaiigiantjudgefish

[thenamesseven]

Hiya! This was requested by a person, I hope I wrote this the way you wanted and that you are happy with the result!

Words: 1718 words.

Plot: Sometimes you are a little too friendly with the other members of GOT7 and Jaebum feels the need of showing everybody who you belong to.

Genre: Angst, smut.

Warning: There's angry smut, not vanilla sex for sure.

Even though today's afternoon you were supposed to hang out with your boyfriend Jaebum, the guys had found ways to interrupt your privacy for so many times that both of you gave up and decided to wait until they all got busy with something else rather than competing to see who got more of your attention.

You couldn't be mad at anyone though. Being honest, you loved how all the boys spoiled you with their attention and how they all treated you like their small sister. They had all got so excited when they came back home and found you sitting on their couch watching TV that even when Jaebum had told them he wanted to keep you to himself, all six of them decided to ignore their leader for once and kept you away from him.

"She's not just yours" Jackson told him smiling, just playing around. However when he saw the death glare Jaebum was sending his way Jackson became a nervous mess.

"(Y/N) is just mine though" Jaebum told him, poking his chest, making the other male all tense "I am her boyfriend, she's not GOT7's girlfriend"

"Babe" You wrapped your arms around his waist, your chest against his side as you rested your chin on his shoulder. You needed to save Jackson from the argument Jaebum wanted to start and physical contact was the best way to calm your boyfriend down "It's okay, let me spend some time with all the guys and then we can go to your room, right?" Even though that was a question for only Jaebum, every single GOT7 member nodded agreeing with you.

“Fine but next time we’re hanging out in your place where none of this idiots can steal you away from me”

Jaebum was kind of needy that day which wasn’t a surprise. The whole group had spent a lot of time preparing for their new comeback what meant that Jaebum and you had barely had time for yourselves. It had been almost three weeks since you slept together and let’s not talk about being naughty…You couldn’t remember the last time you two had your hands on each other for the whole night.

Like you said you decided to spend a little time with the six members, Jaebum was grumpy so he just locked himself in his studio to work on his songs for another mixtape. This was his way of complainning about you choosing the members over him which wasn’t entirely truth. You were going to spend the night with him, he didn’t have to be grumpy for not having you the entire afternoon.

Time flew and you were currently playing UNO with Jackson, Youngjae, Yugyeom and Bambam. The first three guys had already won but you were still trying to defeat Bambam whose objective was beating you.

“Yah! It’s not fair! You are all helping her!” Bambam shouted truly frustrated, you just laughed.

The guys had all gathered around you to help you win. Yugyeom was the one who was closer to you since you were sitting between his legs. Your bodies weren’t touching but everytime he moved you could feel his chest brushing against your back, everytime he spoke his breath would caress your cheek. It didn't bother you, you knew Yugyeom wasn't trying anything with you, he probably wasn't even realizing he was so close to you.

That was until Jaebum appeared out of nowhere.

"Which card?" You whispered turning your head to look at Yugyeom just to find him frowning. Your faces a bit to close to each other's.

"Mhmm..." Thinking he rested his chin on your shoulder "Try with this one" He was about to point to one of the cards you had in your hands when somebody cleared their throat.

Somebody being Jaebum.

You literally felt Yugyeom's muscles getting tense one by one behind you just like Jackson and Youngjae that were next to you. You looked up at your boyfriend, his death glare wasn't directed to you but you felt bad for the rest of the guys.

"Jae-" You couldn't finish his name when he interrupted you.

"To my room, now" He pointed to his door behind him without turning around.

You knew better than to ignore your boyfriend's words so without saying anything you stood up and walked pass him, playing nervously with the hem of your shirt. Walking into his room you stood by the door trying to hear what he was saying to the guys. The living room was filled with silence letting you hear his hushed voice directed to the other guys before you could hear Jaebum's steps towards the room, you started freaking out.

Was he mad? He wouldn't want to break up with you, right?

Your mind got blank as soon as you saw his figure walking into the room, quietly closing the door as you stood there infront of him not knowing what to do. Right when you opened your mouth to say something, he grabbed your shoulders and pushed you against the door roughly, a quiet groan escaping your lips as a complaint.

"Stop tempting me" He whispered, his hands on both sides of your head as he leaned so close to you that his lips were almost on yours "Don't play that game with me" One of his hands move down to your throat, his thumb pressing the spot where he could feel your quick pulse.

"What?" You whispered quietly. You weren't scared of him because you knew Jaebum would never hurt you but there was this new feeling glinting in his eyes, something in his words and touch that were supposed to be scary but turned you on.

"Do I have to remind you who you belong to?" He whispered leaning in, his lips pressing against the spot under your ear that turned you in a shivering mess. You tried to answer but he tossed you onto the bed. You bite your lip to hide the smile that was threatening to pull your lips up, your boyfriend was on dominant mode now and you didn't want to challenge him when he was like that. "Say it" He was hovering over you, the top of your head against the headboard, the lower part of his body between your legs. "Say it (Y/N)"

"I'm yours" You replied without hesitation, staring into his eyes. Your pulse becoming even quicker with anticipation. "I am fully yours" You said again, getting even more wet when he smirked.

"You made me mad" He muttered pulling your jeans "Take this off, it's on the way" Jaebum moved away from you to take his own clothes off as you quickly copied his movements. You were pulling your underwear down, the only piece of cloth left was your panties but Jaebum pushed you back down on the bed "I told you to take off your clothes" He reached down and with a force you didn't know he had, ripped your panties.

"You owe me a pair of panties" You whispered half mad, half turned on.

"What did you say?" He asked with his hand going back up to your throat, he squeezed it gently pressing his naked hips against yours. You couldn't help but moan.

"Jaebum..." You whispered his face leaning down slowly to lick your neck.

Your body was in pure ecstasy at this point. You loved when Jaebum got all worked up. He had a dominant side that you just knew and that turned you on even more. You loved the marks he left to remind everybody you belonged to him, you adored every gentle spank, every whisper and every kiss or lick.

This just showed you were his and only his.

Jaebum jerked you around "I don't want to see that face of yours" He whispered against your ear, your back arched when you felt him pressing the tip of his sex against your wet entrance "Looking all innocent while the guys are all over you...Do you like that? Do you like letting them get close to you to make me angry?" He slapped your ass cheek so hard that you knew you had his hand print on your skin. The only thing that got out of your lips was a moan which made Jaebum pull your hair "I asked you a question (Y/N)" His lips against your ear, his teeth biting your earlobe.

"God, I love it" You replied with your eyes closed. Your voice husky and low with pleasure.

"You are such a fucking brat" He chuckled huskily, pushing himself inside of you in a rough yet hard thrust. You bit your lip so hard that it wouldn't be a surprise if you drew blood out of it.

"Moan for me slut" He whispered, breathing in your scent hard against the skin of your neck right before he spanked you again "Let the guys hear who you belong to"

He didn't give you time to process his words. Jaebum instantly started thrusting again roughly and hard, stretching your inner walls and finding your g spot so fast that it caught you off guard.

"Jaebum..." You attempted to bury your face in the pillow to muffle the sound of your moans but he pulled your hair again, he really wanted the other guys to hear you.

"Louder" He ordered and like the good girl you were, you obeyed him. "Louder, you've moaned louder for me" He whispered banging into you, his hard breathing caressing your skin, drops of sweat rolling down both of your bodies.

"Jaebum!" You were almost screaming, your moans were being heard for sure "Please!"

"Please what, (Y/N)? What do you want?" You felt his tongue caressing the side of your neck, your knuckles turning white from gripping the sheets.

"Let me cum!" You shouted this, you didn't care if the guys could hear you.

"I'll let you, you don't deserve it though" He whispered letting go of your head to make his thrusting harder. It only took you a couple of thrusts to reach your orgasm.

Your body shook with pleasure, your brain had turned off and the only word you could say was his name. You didn't even know how Jaebum had managed to turn around your dumb body before slamming back inside of you. With your eyes open you stared at his face as he reached his climax, pulling out of you and spreading his cum all over your body. Jaebum grunted, looking down at you as he ran his fingers through his hair. His face was slightly red, his chest moving up and down fast as he tried to catch his breath.

"I hope everybody got the message" He muttered laying down on his bed next to you. His stared at the ceiling, cleaning the sweat off his forehead before turning his head to look at you with a smirk.

"You are mine"

[pitbull-tent]

Nature’s Fairy Lights//Poodull

Description: Pitbull and Poodle are very much in love and at camp… they just need to come to terms with it first

Possible triggers: fighting, an anxiety attack, and depressing thoughts.

You’re gonna want to grab some tissues.

Chapter 2: Mud Run

I awake to a cold spot in my bed, leaving me confused and searching for a few seconds. To be fair, it could’ve been the way to early “God Bless America” trumpet alarm, but I’m pretty sure it’s the cold spot. And then, it dawn upon me, as if I was that flag, that Poodle must’ve left sometime during the night.

I arise from the comfort of my blanket coffin- complete with pillows- groaning and stretching. I look over to see what the couple was up to, and was met with their morning kissing session- so I looked away very quickly. Instead, opting to grab a shirt and shorts and walking quickly to the bathroom.

I stare at myself in the very public mirror with dread. I hate changing in front of people. I have two options at this point. Get dressed quickly right now, or wait for one of the bathroom stalls to open. This isn’t a hard choice.

While I wait for someone to finish getting changed, I think about last night. Why would Poodle come over to my cabin? Why would they wrap their arms around me like that? They obviously only think of me as a friend. Do I think of them as a friend? Two days ago the answer would 100% be yes. After yesterday, though, I’m not so sure. Maybe I’m kinda sorta really definitely in love with Poodle. Maybe. What a wild thought. I can’t seem to trust my brain these days.

A stall is finally open, and I hurry to it before it’s taken again. I get dressed quickly and hurry out of the stall. I stand in front of a full body mirror to get a good look at my outfit.

I’m wearing an oversized yellow sweater with a vintage NASA logo printed on the front. It’s coupled with some ripped skinny jeans and a lilac beanie. I take my tired hands and tuck my sweater in the front for fashion reasons. I have to wear my glasses today, as I forgot my contacts at home. My white converse on as always. I ruffle my hair a bit and head back to my cabin.

I look up at the sky as I make my way. Looks and smells like it might rain. Glancing around the campus, I see Poodle waving at me over to them. I turn baby pink, instantly reminded of last night. I let out a breath before walking over.

“Did you sleep well last night?” Their voice still has that sleepy droop to it.

They take a sip from the unicorn mug of tea in their hands. Their eyes are half opened as they look at me. The sun is behind them, giving them an interstellar glow. Honestly, how could you not fall in love with someone like that. Right now, I’d love nothing more than to grab the collar of their shirt, pull them in, and-

“O-oh yeah. I did. How about you?” I stutter out when I realize that they’re still waiting for my answer.

“Better because I was with you.” They hum, taking another sip of their tea like they didn’t just say that. I feel the heat begin to rise to my cheeks from the warmth in my stomach that they make me feel, and I have to fight back an actual giggle. You know who giggles? People that are in love, and I’m definitely NOT that.

Poodle POV

I can’t believe I just did that. I’m FLIRTING and I think I’m doing okay at it. If I could keysmash right now, I would.

Good lord, I hope they like me. I mean, they blushed, so I guess that’s a good sign. I take a deep breath of the wild, calming my nerves and trying to keep my cool the best I can.

“Smells nice, doesn’t it?” Pitbull asks me after I take my breath. Keep your cool Poodle, keep your cool.

“Not as good as you.” I reply. Uh oh, that was bad, wasn’t it. Please god say it worked, say it worked. I’ve been waiting for a year to get them to like me.

They blush slightly, looking away. I have to physically refrain myself from fist bumping the air because I just did that like a pro. Heck yeah. So, I just opt for another sip of my cinnamon tea. Because I’m cool. Yeah.

“Whatever.” They mumble in defeat from my one hit KO. Mortal Kombat who? Sorry, I only know myself.

“Would you like me to escort you to your cabin?” I politely offer, my mother’s teachings showing.

“No, It’s fine. I wouldn’t want to trouble you.” They reply hesitantly, their voice reminding me of honey when you’re deprived of sugar.

“I insist.” I push, really wanting to spend as much time as possible with them, craving their presence as an addict craves drugs.

After this, they give in. Another point for the smooth talker.

We walk in comfortable silence, only the birds making noise around us. I hold my unicorn mug expertly with my right hand while I use my left to grasp Pitbull’s hand like the romancer that I am.

I place my fingers between theirs in a way that one would call interlocked. Their skin softer than the velveteen rabbit I dragged through the dirt as a kid. I can feel their slight hesitation, but they ultimately decide against pulling away, pulling my hand closer instead.

“Want some tea? It’s cinnamon.” I ask in an attempt to stop myself from jumping in joy. I move my mug towards them in a way to tell them that I’m not taking no for an answer. They just roll their eyes, blush, and nod, taking the warm drink from me.

I’m not going to lie, I missed the warmth of the mug, but it was worth it to see Pitbull hold it. Even the way they hold a mug is perfect. How is that even possible? It’s probably because I’m absolutely smitten for them.  They are absolutely flawsome.

The way their face perks up in delight when they taste the drink makes my knees weak. Their eyebrows raise slightly in surprise and their eyes twinkle lightly.

“This is amazing, you’re going to have to teach me how to make it sometime.” They practically moan. I didn’t think the drink was that good, but okay.

“Anything for you.” I reply simply, the words slipping without much thought or effort, earning me yet another sweet blush.

Before I can even comprehend it, they’re handing me the mug back, and I blink twice before I take it, nodding my head in thanks and winking at them. I don’t know why I winked, but there’s no going back now.

“God.” they mumble under their breath, still blushing. I furrow my brows. Did I make them uncomfortable?

“Why are you talking about yourself in the third person?” I’m concerned now, but I don’t know why I just said what I did.

They mumble something under their breath that sounds scarily like “I just love you so much.” but I heard wrong, right?

“What did you say?” I ask, confused.

“I, uh, just l-loathe your lunch.” They stutter out, clearly lying, but I’m not going to call them out on it.

“What did my lunch ever do to you?” I joke before we fall back into silence. Man, I didn’t even get a laugh out of them. It must’ve been a bad joke, but only Jesus will ever know.

And God, apparently.

We reach the doors of Pitbull’s cabin sooner than expected, and I’m disappointed to say the least. I wanted more time with them, I really did, but it looks like time is something I’ll never have enough of.

“We’re here.” They say, turning to me and letting go of my hand.

“We are.” I reply, confused as to what they’re waiting for.

And then it hits me. They probably want a kiss on the cheek or something.

I lean forward and peck their cheek before walking away. I turn back to wave, but they’re already gone, so I just shrug and continue walking.

Pitbull POV

I stumble back into my cabin, face still flushed. The second I shut the door behind me, I hear Turquoise laugh.

“What are you laughing at?” I try to sound mad, but honestly I’m too swept up in my thoughts to care.

“Who’s the lucky duck?” Turquoise giggles, throwing their shirt over their head.

“What? No I’m not- I mean, they’re not- We’re not-” I spit out, feeling my face turning even more red than it already was.

“Oh trust me Pit, I know that look on your face all too well. You’re in love.” Maroon chimes in, running a brush through their hair nonchalantly.

I sigh, not wanting to argue anymore. Half because I’m still tired and half because they’re completely correct, even if I don’t want to believe it yet.

I lay face first on the bottom bunk of my bed, too full of butterflies to care. It’s not like they’d like me anyways.

“Of course they’ll like you hun.” Turquoise says, and my face heats up again. Apparently I’ve been thinking aloud.

“Probably not.” I deny, rolling towards the wall instead of them.

“Have you asked them?” Maroon adds on in a motherly tone.

“No.” I stubbornly admit after a few moments of silence, and I can hear them both sigh and exchange a look.

“Then what are you sitting here for! Go admit your love before I admit it for you!” Maroon yells to me, throwing their pillow at me to make a point. I can physically feel Turquoise’s eyes roll.

I get up slowly, putting emphasis on the fact that I don’t want to. And Maroon throws another pillow at me to get me to hurry out the door. Which works, I’m not gonna lie.

The morning air hits my face yet again when I open up the door and shut it quickly, not wanting to get hit again. I take a deep breath and walk towards the pavilion, figuring that I’ll have to go there for announcements eventually. I’m aware that I’m completely ignoring their advice, but I’m not sure if I’m ready yet. I mean, I’m not even sure about my emotions, let alone coming to terms with them.

Before I can think much, I’ve arrived at my destination. The pavilion is completely empty, spare for a few old wrappers. I sigh, preparing for the wait ahead of me.

I’m totally spaced out, thinking about Poodle. Do they really like me? Do I like them? What was last night about? Why are they so freaking cute? Why is it that everytime I see them, do I want to-

A hand on my shoulder snaps me out of my thoughts, as well as scaring me half to death.

“Oh, sorry! Did I scare you?” My heart stops. That’s not Poodle’s voice, like I was expecting. It was too rough to be Poodle’s voice.

I turn, and am met with the most intense green eyes. Not a good kind of intense, like the forest in the middle of the spring, but like the sun shining through ice. Eyes that could be kind, but in this moment of panic, I’m unable to read anything of the sorts.

“Uh-” I stutter, unsure of what to say.

“Pit! I’ve been looking for you!” My savior, Poodle, yells, and I completely ignore the stranger as they jog up to where I’m stuck to the ground.

I’m sure it’s only because of my relief, but my eyes show me an unearthly glow that surrounds them. A glow that’s soft and faint, but clearly there. I blink a few times, and it disappears. And, yet, the image burns against my eyelids, and I can’t seem to get rid of it.

“Who’s your friend?” Poodle asks, with a hint of jealousy in their voice.  Why would they be jealous? They collapse down next to me with a huff.

“Corgi.” The mysterious stranger says after glancing between the two of us. “You?”

“Poodle.” They say after looking Corgi up and down slowly, asserting dominance without T posing. Corgi looks at me expectantly.

“Pitbull.” I say sweetly, putting my hand out to shake. They don’t take it, dear lord. This is awkward.

I put my hand down even more awkwardly while Poodle and Corgi have a staring contest, clearing my throat when I begin to feel too uncomfortable.

“Are you ready for the mud run?” Somebody else says, joining the conversation. Completely oblivious to what just happened.

“The what?” Poodle questions, apparently the only sane one in this situation.

“It’s where we do a ropes course one by one in the mud.” They say cheerily and in a way that make Poodle seem stupid.

“Of which Bulldog and I will destroy you at.” Corgi pipes up, gesturing to the camper beside them, who I assume is Bulldog.

“Really? Don’t you have to be taller than 4’11 to do that, Corgster?” I growl, also crossing my arms, leaning closer to my challenger.

“Guys, stop.” Poodle interjets putting a hand on

“Say that to your stolen dogs.” They growl at Poodle, and a wave of protectiveness surges through me with some added adrenaline.

“Like you could steal anything, you couldn’t see over a rock if it moved.” I scoff, unsure of why I just did that, but you’ve gotta do what you gotta do to defend your dogs. At this, Corgi gets on their toes and goes to insult me back, their mouth open-

An alarm sounds off before things can get too heated, signalling breakfast.

“This isn’t finished.” Corgi barks, grabbing Bulldog and pulling them away. Bulldog rolls their eyes and puts their chin up, not giving us a second glance as they turn away

“What was that about?” Poodle asks, both angry and worried. Angry at the confrontation, worried about further ones.

“Nothing.” I reply simply, turning away from the duo and towards my partner.

“Whatever.” Poodle mumbles, rolling their eyes, clearly not looking to argue with me.

A tense silence ensues as we walk towards the cafeteria, unspoken words of anger between us. Adrenaline courses through my veins from the confrontation moments ago, blinding my senses.

In that moment, I irrationally decide to kiss Poodle’s cheek. Only god knows why I did it, but I don’t regret it. They stiffen up in surprise, and their face goes red. Oh no. I must’ve made them uncomfortable.

“Uh- I don’t know why I, I-I’m sorry, Poodle- I didn’t mean to make you upset-” I’m tripping over my words in embarrassment.

“No! It’s fine. I, uh, actually kinda liked it...” They trail off, looking down in embarrassment as they mutter the last part. Instead opting to kiss me on the cheek back to show that it’s okay.

“Oh.” I say in surprise, not expecting their velveteen lips to meet my skin so suddenly. Now I’m blushing.

Still not thinking straight because I’m too gay to function, I reach out and take Poodles hand in my own. I’m met with no resistance, which is the biggest relief to date. They move closer so our shoulders are touching as we walk. We don’t say anything, but I can tell the tension that was once between us has been obliterated. Gay love has truly pierced through the veil of death and saved the day.

Without words to focus on, though, my brain is racing with very… uh... un-platonic thoughts towards Poodle. But I’m not in love with them… right?

In this moment, my thoughts flashback to last year at camp, when Turquoise and Maroon were falling in love.

“They love me, they love me not.” I hear Maroon repeatedly say as they pick petals off of a rose.

“Who loves you?” I ask bluntly, causing Maroon to jump and blush.

“N-nobody.” I give them a stern look. “Turquoise...” They admit shyly, placing the picked flower down as I sit in front of them on the grass.

“What’re they like?” I ask sweetly, knowing how much of a hopeless romantic they are.

“They’re perfect, pibble. They’re everything I’ve ever dreamed of.” They get up and start to dance around. “Perfect Turquoise hair, like their name suggests. A hat and piercings that collide with my dress. Their eyes glimmer from the stars of a billion galaxies. Their personality perfectly intertwines with mine. They’re kind, reserved, passionate, incredible, and- ugh. The way their eyes light up when they talk about something they love makes me weak. The way they smile reminds me of sunshine peeking between the clouds. The way they talk, their voice. Even the way they carry themselves makes me sigh. They feel like my other half. They’re the Romeo to my Juliet, the Troy to my Gabriella, they’re my knight in shining armor, and I’m the damsel in distress. Everytime they look at me, I swear that time and the world both stop just to study us… no- the entire universe does.” They speak as if they are describing a dream.  

“But they probably don’t love me back.” They mumble in defeat as they lay back down on the ground, returning to reality.

“Have you asked?” I ask.

“Asked what?” They reply, reminded of my presence to their confession.

“If they do.” I state simply, confused as to why they don’t understand me when I’m being clear.

“Do what?” They inquire with mock innocence, and I catch onto the fact that they’re stalling.

“Love you.” I chuckle, amused by their inability to ask a simple question when they just became all Shakespeare on me.

“No, I don’t want to pester them.” They sigh, looking to the sky as if the universe was holding them away from their one true love.

“Then what are you doing over here? Go talk to them.” I abruptly say, getting up and stretching my hand out in a motion that says that they need to get up too.

“What? Are you serious?” They sputter, looking at me in utter shock.

“Did I stutter?” I reply sternly, and they reluctantly take my hand.

I tug them out of the meadow and onto the path through the forest. I don’t complain because I know that they’re nervous. No matter how much of a hopeless romantic they are, they’re still worried about all the negative things that could happen. Worrying about all of the what if’s. Pessimism is universal, it’s human nature to dwell on the worst outcomes of things. So, I stay silent, knowing that it’s probably best to stay that way for Maroon’s sake.

I see a lake and a person with curly turquoise hair, who I assume is Turquoise. They reach behind them and grab a stone before yeeting it with all their force towards the water, not even trying to skip them. A bag, which I hope is theirs, lays open next to the rock they’re sitting upon.

“Go get em, tiger.” I whisper before shoving Maroon towards them and running into the cover of the trees.

Turquoise turns to see Maroon stumbling in their direction, and blushes before fumbling to help the ‘damsel in distress’. Their hand goes underneath Maroon’s armpit to help the falling red-ish-head, and both blush.

I cannot hear them from where I sit, but I imagine that they’re both apologizing profusely to each other.

The duo goes over to the rock by the water and the bag, Maroon sitting first because Turquoise is quite the gentleperson.

They talk for awhile, and I debate on walking away because the sun’s going down and it’s getting cold. But, then I see Turquoises shoulder’s tense in a way that signals that they’re about to admit something.

After a few seconds, Turquoise reaches into their bag, and I have to squint to see what they pull out. From what I can see, it’s a bouquet of pink wildflowers, and my heart melts slightly for them.

Even though I can’t hear what they’re saying, the confusion on Maroon’s face is apparent. I can tell that Turquoise is really anxious too. They say something and Maroon brings their hands up to their mouth in shock. Oh no. That is not a good sign at all. Turquoise says something else, slightly louder, because I can hear it. I still can’t make out the words though. Maroon shakes their head, their mouth still covered. They’re shivering now.

Are they crying? If Turquoise broke Maroon’s heart with pink flowers at hand, I swear to god-

Turquoise is mostly shouting now, and I can finally make out the words.

“Yes! It is true! I’m not lying! I’ve completely and utterly fallen for you, Maroon. I’ve been waiting to confess to you for the longest time! I love you with all my heart, what can’t you see?” I can tell by the tone of their voice that they’re telling the truth.

Maroon just grasps their shirt and tugs them towards them, Turquoise closing the gap slowly, building tension between the lovers. Maroon brings their open hand up to lace into Turquoise’s curls. At the same time, Turquoise wraps their fingers around Maroon’s hips in order to pull them even closer in the already tight space. Just looking at it makes me feel slightly claustrophobic.

After they’re done, Maroon picks up Turquoise and spins them around, visibly ecstatic. I smile thoughtfully. Looks like Maroon got exactly what they always dreamed of; a knight in shining armor.

Poodle holds open the door to the cafeteria for me, and I’m instantly hit with the worst smell on earth. I nod them a ‘thank you’ before walking in. Thankfully I didn’t gag this year like I did last.

To be fair, I did a bit more than- ehrm- gag last year, persay. But I, uh, won’t go into too much detail about it.

The line is fairly short, considering that most people would rather die than even smell the food, and I feel lucky to be numb to the taste of utter shit. I know that this wouldn’t last long, though, as everybody will eventually get tired of hunger and give into the devil’s slop that the lunch maties serve.

Once we get to the front of the line, Poodle lets go of my hand. I guess I didn’t realize how much I loved the contact, because I already miss the feeling of our interlocked fingers. We both grab a styrofoam tray and get a good helping of whatever they’re serving. Once we’re out of the line, Poodle turns to me and asks:

“You wanna sit outside?” I smile.

“Yeah.” They smile back.

Once we’re out of the stuffy calfeteria, Poodle shifts their tray to one hand. They reach out their hand slightly and I realize what they want. I move my tray as well, because I think want it too. Once my right hand is free, they reach out and grab my hand needily.

Poodle POV

I melt the second I touch their hand. It’s only been about three minutes since I was last holding it, but god did I miss it. I look over to see them smiling at the ground. Their smile is really contagious.

“Okay, let’s find somewhere to sit.” I use a soft tone. They nod their head and blush. How am I pulling this off?

“C’mon.” I guide them across the pavilion and towards the forest. We keep walking until we reach the lake in the middle of the forest.

Pitbull stops for a second, and I see a flicker of recognition in their eyes. I step back to where they are and lean closer to them.

“You okay?” I ask, rubbing my thumb over their hand. My heart is beating so fast from being so close to them. They swallow and nod, giving me a small but genuine smile.

“That’s good. I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t.” Move over peanut butter, I’m the new smoothest thing in town. Pitbull smiles a little more and glances up at me with a look in their eyes I think I’ll always remember.

We make our way down to the shore and sit down. The view of the lake is almost as gorgeous than the person sitting next to me. They're staring out at the lake with an unreadable expression.

“I really like your glasses.” I break the silence by blurting out a compliment.

I wonder why they never wear them. They're round rimmed with a rose gold frame. They deeply contrast my thick black square frames. The way the light catches through the lenses makes their freckles noticeable, and their eyes even more breathtaking.

“Oh- Thank you.” They stutter, blessing me with another blush and small smile. Somehow, I manage not to start crying from how beautiful they are.

“Of course~” HowamIpullingthisoff??? Instead of responding, they just look away with a shrug and shove a spoonful of the- what even is it? Sewage? Into their mouth.

I look down at my own tray of disgusting-whatever-this-is and grimace. I know I’ll have to eat it anyway. To get it over with, I pinch my nose and shovel it all down. Despite the taste being mostly masked, there is a bit of the revolting flavour. I shiver in disgust. I might throw up. I look to my left and see that Pitbull has finished already, watching me with a face of utter amusement. I feel my face flush.

“Glad to see that I’m not the only one who hates this stuff.” They giggle, and It’s the most beautiful sound that I’ve ever heard. So beautiful, in fact, that I find myself laughing with them.

“God help the man that does.” I say after we calm down a bit, and they chuckle in agreement with me.

After that, we get up and walk back to camp hand in hand, our disgusting trays in my right hand. The birds chirping quietly around us, and the most terrible taste in the back of my throat. I sigh, knowing that this is probably the last calm moment I’ll get for a while, with the mud run and all. Because of this, I enjoy this quiet moment even more.

Pitbull POV

Once we get back to the pavilion, the counselors are rounding everyone up for an announcement, and we see our absolute favorite counselor standing on a table with their whistle in their mouth. I brace myself for impact as they blow it like a dick, releasing the second loudest noise known to man, the first being Dan Howell screaming.

We scramble to the nearest seat, really not wishing to hear that noise twice in a row for the sake of our eardrums.

“Howdy campers! Are you guys ready for today’s activity?” She screams at us, her smile radiating with big satanic energy, and we all mumble our agreements quickly, not wanting a repeat of yesterday’s events. “We’re doing a mud run! Now go get changed and meet me at the end of trail #4.”

We all hurry away, and not because we’re eager for the activity. Poodle and I seperate in the crowd, and it’s too chaotic for me to look for them as of right now, so I just push towards my cabin so I can get this over with quickly.

Grabbing my ugliest tee shirt and shorts, I just change in the room because the pair hasn’t arrived yet, probably busy making out with each other somewhere. I also opt to lose the hat because I don’t want it to get ruined, pulling my hair up into a ponytail instead.

I open my phone and look myself over in the camera. I look like one of those people that works out at 6am, which makes me laugh slightly underneath my breath as I put my phone down onto my bed. I grab a pair of dollar store flip flops and jog out the door to go to Poodle’s cabin.

I reach said cabin and knock on the door three times, jumping slightly in excitement. I really really really want to hold Poodle’s hand, and it’s at least a 30 minute walk to where we’re supposed to be going.

The door opens to reveal Poodle, and I smile widely at them.

“Ready to go?” I ask, kissing their cheek randomly because that’s who I am now, apparently.

“After you, my lord.” They reply, taking my hand and kissing it while I just blush slightly, rolling my eyes and pulling them towards trail #4.

We walk in silence after that, our hands swinging between us every once in a while.

I’m not ready for what’s at the end of the trail.

A wall with four ropes on both sides of it sits in the middle of a huge mud lake. On one side, there’s tires and monkey bars, and on the other there’s a series of nets. I’m just thanking god that I took the annoying lady seriously.

After about five minutes of waiting, we call roll.

“Each of you will start at the end of the run with the tires, four at a time. You will be timed, and 30 seconds will be added to your time if you mess up or hit another one of the players. Your goal is to have the shortest time out of all the teams. Now, you and your partner have to stand together in line. Go!” A male counselor says before blowing his whistle, and we all obey immediately.

Luckily, Poodle and I are first in line, so we don’t have to wait long. Unfortunately, though, we’re with our besties, Corgi and Bulldog. I would know those piercing eyes anywhere.

“On the mark, campers!” The announcer booms.

“We’re going to destroy you guys.” Corgi snarls.

“Get set. . .”

“I’d like to see you try.” I growl back.

A gun goes off, and I run as fast as I can, zoning out. Adrenaline coursing through my veins as I complete the course.

Before I can even comprehend it, it’s all over and I’m standing next to Poodle, Bulldog, and Corgi, the winners being announced.

Poodle got first, Bulldog second, and me third. Corgi got 5th, but I wasn’t really in focus until after everybody was gone.

It was probably the shove that did the job.

“You cheated!” Corgi screams.

“Bullshit!” I yell back, too high on adrenaline too care about anything, shoving them even harder back. This just earns me a knuckle sandwich to the jaw.

Oh, it’s on now.

“Hey.” Poodle says sternly, grabbing my hand before I can give the other party any real damage, like I want to. I soften slightly, becoming a bit more rational again.

“I’m not fighting you.” I reply strongly, looking down towards Corgi, lowering my arm.

“Why, because you’ll lose.” They snarl, trying to get my blood to boil.

“Because what’s the point in fighting if both of you are going to lose.” Poodle begins. “Look around, buddy. You’ve lost. So what? You’re going to pick a fight with the first person you see? Why can’t y’all just call a truce or something.”

“Fine, I’ll truce you.” They mumble after taking in Poodle’s words for a few minutes, holding out their hand. I grasp their hand strongly, asserting dominance and shaking it in agreeance. “But this doesn’t mean that we’re friends.”

“Didn’t plan on it meaning that we were friends, buddy.” I reply, earning a glare from Poodle.

We part ways, Corgi giving me the ‘sassy’ hips and Bulldog loudly congratulating themselves, saying that the system was probably rigged because they didn’t get first place. We wait a few moments, waiting until we can’t hear Bulldog, before we continue behind them.

There’s a lot of handholding on the way back, like there was on the way there, but this time we’re complaining about how we both really need showers because the mud is extremely uncomfortable.

“We should take a shower together.” Poodle jokes.

“Conserve water. Save the turtles.” I joke back.

We continue joking about taking a shower together for ‘environmental benefits’. We even joke before we part to get our clothes, and joke when we join again. We joke until we actually get into the showers.

“Should we actually take a shower together?” Poodle jokingly asks, but I don’t think that it’s half bad of an idea after really thinking about it.

“Sure, why not?” I say, grabbing their hand and leading them into the biggest stall.

“W-what?” They sputter out, not sure if I’m joking or not.

“To save the turtles.” I state jokingly, but look at them in a way that lets them know that I’m not actually joking, but am totally okay if they don’t want to.

“To save the turtles.” They giggle, stepping in with me shyly, and I smirk, pulling the curtain closed.

I place our clothes onto the bench after taking Poodle’s, and start stripping, with my back turned to them, starting with my shirt. As I unbuckle my pants, I feel a warm hand brush the dirt off of my shoulders, and it would’ve startled me if I wasn’t familiar with it’s heat.

As quickly as it was there, it’s gone, but I hear the faucet release liquid.

I hurry up on getting undressed, sick of the grime upon my skin, before getting into the shower with my back still turned to them, not wishing to make them uncomfortable.

After a couple of minutes, a tap makes its presence known on my shoulder, and I turn around to meet its source. Green eyes look at me, clearly nervous. I step aside, allowing them to go beneath the domesticated rain. They accept my invitation gracefully, looking up to allow the water access to their skin.

Watching the dirt come off of them is satisfying, to say the least. The way it slowly goes away, running down towards the drain in gentle streams against an equally gentle human being. Small streams of water run down their cheeks, shoulders, and back when they’re not directly beneath the source.

After a few minutes, they turn to me, not knowing what to do next. I turn away, grabbing a bottle of lavender soap and squirting some into my free hand.

I put the bottle down and begin to rub my hands together to create bubble, dancing as I do to get Poodle to laugh, of which they do. I then take the mixture and begin to lather the other half’s hair.

I finally get to lace my fingers between the blonde ringlets, even if they are a bit loser now that they’re wet. I’m careful to be gentle, but I still make sure I’m being thorough.

After I’m completed, I look up and blow a bubble with my hand. Poodle looks at me dumbfounded, jaw slightly agape.

“Want to learn how to do it?” I ask them, and they nod eagerly.

I wash off my hands before grabbing the bottle again, this time squirting some into Poodle’s hands instead of mine. I put their hands together, placing my hands over the back of each other and making them do a rubbing motion, slowly getting sillier until they laugh.

“Now, take you hand and put it into a fist and then make it an ‘okay’ sign. Blow through the part of your hand that looks like a circle.” I instruct them, and they do exactly as I say, getting a bubble.

They giggle, and do it a few more times. Everytime looking at me for assurance that they’re doing it right.

After they stop blowing bubbles, they take their already soaped up hands and begin to run their fingers into my hair softly. So soft, in fact, that I barely notice it.

When they’re done, I wash it out and turn off the water, the two of us going to dry off and get dressed.

Eventually, we end up in my cabin with wet heads and tired eyes. We cuddle up together and fall asleep.

Today’s a free day, so Poodle and I stay at my cabin while Maroon and Turquoise go mess around somewhere. Poodle’s on their phone while I’m reading my book.

“Pibble.” Poodle starts after a couple hours of comfortable silence, and I make a humming noise from where I’m sitting, indicating that they have my attention as they put down their phone. “I have something to confess.”

“Well, what is it?” I ask after they pause for too long, placing my bookmark in my book and closing it, setting it on the floor beside me.

“I can’t tell you. Not yet. In three hours I will, but not now.” They reply, hurrying off before I could say much else, leaving me alone with a million of unanswered questions and prodding thoughts.

So, around the room I pace, checking the time every 10 seconds, knowing that today’s the day that I am going to confess as well, though it’s probably something else.

I’m feeling nervous at Poodle’s wording, and time’s almost up. What do they want to confess to me? I mean, I’m no priest, and I don’t plan on being one anytime soon.

I suppose that the nerves aren’t completely Poodle’s fault though, because today is the day that I’m going to confess. I go to leave my cabin and look for Poodle.

Before I can do that, though, I run directly into said person.

I can’t process what’s happening because I’m met with the most striking eyes I’ve ever seen. Is this the same Poodle that I’ve come to fall in love with?

Their eyes are a breathtaking green laced with turquoise. They’re warm and soft. Nothing at all like Corgi’s sharp, dangerous ones.

How have I never noticed them before? Now that I’m so close, I can see other small things I’d never picked up on before.

Like the way their curly hair falls so effortlessly across their forehead, so perfect and blonde and loopy. The small ringlets are just begging me to lace my fingers delicately through them. To allow them to be what pulls me closer to their holder’s face.

Like how their nose tapers to a perfect point, holding their glasses elegantly. Even if they will get in the way when I hold them close.

Like how their lips show their plumpness even when they’re curled up into a sort of half smile. Their lips are perfect, not chapped or cracked in anyway, and probably feel slightly damp when touched. I imagine that they’d taste like strawberries when kis-

“You okay, Pit?” Their smooth voice cuts through my unreasonable thoughts. I can feel their breath. It still smells like cinnamon. I turn red, realizing I’d been staring at them for far too long.

“O-oh, uh, I-I-” My anxiety stops the words from coming out. I’ve made an utter fool of myself.

Not bothering to explain, I shove them away from me and slam the door in their face, turning the lock before they even get the chance to spit out any questions.

Why did I do that? They have to hate me now. They have to be mad at me. Why wouldn’t they be? Not only did I run into them without apology, but I also shoved them and slammed the door into their face.

I don't even bother to climb up the ladder instead grabbing my pillow and launching myself onto the floor. I violently grab my pillow and hold it close to my face, tears leaving my eyes as if the dirt orbs on my face were sprinklers.

I feel the anxiety eat me alive. My airway begins to close as I sob harder and harder. I pull my legs towards my face as far as they’ll go and gripping my hair with my hands, entering the fetal part of my anxiety attack.

There’s pounding against the wooden door, but at this point it might just be my heart because it’s beating so fast. If this doesn’t kill me, I don’t know what will.

I feel like I’m drowning on air.

Poodle POV

Pitbull’s clearly not going to open the door, but I keep pounding and trying the knob every three seconds, my fists throbbing in pain. It’s only when my knuckles begin to bleed do I stop, instead pacing and looking for a spare key or an open window.

I flick the window that I came through last night, my final hope. No answer. I flick it again and again, met with the same result every time.

I guess Pitbull just hates me. I don’t know what I did, maybe it was something that I said, but they hate me. That’s the only explanation that makes sense at this point in time.

I sigh, putting my head in my hands and slowly sliding down the wall next to the glass, completely defeated. I don’t know who I’ll spend the rest of my life with.

After a few minutes or hours or however long it’s been, I pull myself up off of the ground. My shattered heart stabs into my throat, but all I can do is hold back tears. I swallow my emotions the best I can before walking to my cabin to get extra clothes before heading to the showers.

Life is dull, slow, and useless. My feet feel heavier than my breath, both of which weigh me down. I shiver slightly, even though it’s probably 90 degrees Farenheit out, the sun glowing dully between the clouds. I drag my shoes through the dirt as I walk, feeling like an emotional zombie.

I take the nearest shower, tossing my spare clothes onto the bench before turning the shower on.

I harshly rip my clothes off of my body and the shoes off of my feet before stepping beneath the warm water.

Or so I thought it’d be warm considering it’s been heating up for at least 5 minutes.

I crank the heat onto the faucet until it can no longer produce hotter water. And then it dawns upon me.

It’s not the shower that’s cold, it’s me.

I glance down to my scarred knuckles, no longer covered in blood because it’s been washed but still littered with deep purple bruises and obvious cuts.

My mind flashes back to Pitbull. The way their nose holds their glasses so delicately, how their freckles dance across their face in the sun, how their hands perfectly in mine, how they would smile and blush when I complimented them, how cold they looked when they slammed the door on me. It makes my broken heart ache.

It’s then, and only then, do I allow the sobs to leave my body.

I take my hands to muffle the sound the best I can, not wanting to be caught or disturb anybody else who may be in here with me.

My entire body shakes violently with the first round of tears, and it only goes down from there. After a few seconds, my knees become too weak to hold me, giving out beneath me. So, I sob on the floor instead of on my feet.

I guess it’s just better this way.

[puckish-saint]

Can i ask for an overwatch member (you pick) with an s/o who lost their glasses? Like the cant tell anything apart, are bumping into everything, & need others to see for them. (Lol its happening to me right now)

My pick you say >:D You fool, you have given me the chance to write about my OTP, there will be no turning back! I may be the entire crew on this ship, but I will go down with it.Featuring Poly!Lummetra (Lúcio/Symmetra) Not a day goes past where each of youdoesn’t wonder how the hell you make this work. Some days youwonder if it is working at all.  Today is one of those days, you wakingup to carefully measured not-shouting that still effortlessly drownsout the actual shouting.“You can’t just expect people to dowhatever you want!”You sigh as you reach for your glassesand find them gone. They must still be on the coffee table in theliving room, from where the sounds of the argument come. It’s theold topic, rehashed again. Lúcio and Satya have a lot in common,despite their assurances to the contrary, but when they clash, theyclash. “I can and I will if it is for thebetter. And clearly, if the team had followed my advice, we-”“Idon’t give a shit if we would have won! You didn’t even listen toour suggestions, you-”“There was no need for suggestions, Ialready determined my plan was flawless-”“You stuck up,arrogant- You really believe you’re better than us, don’tyou?”Satya tends to take rhetorical questions at face value,maybe to mess with people, maybe because she can’t be bothered tofilter through the subtle cues in people’s speech. Whatever thereason, she answers as if he asked her a real question, that smug smile on her face that you know she only uses with Lúcio.“I can hardly be compared to a groupof criminals and lowlif- Don’t you dare!”Somethingshatters, loud, piercing and very final.

Somehow you find your way tothe living room without knocking anything over and make out the vagueshapes of Satya and Lúcio, standing across from each other, the veryblurry but also very broken glass coffee table between them. They both turn around as you enter, and you know there to be guilt all over their faces without needing tosee. “Let me guess.” you say, and guessyou have to, even with barely five steps separating you from this morning’s disaster. “That was the sound of a hardlight constructsmashing our expensive new furniture to bits.”If Satya’s despondent silence is anyindication, that wasn’t just any hardlight construct that shatteredtogether with the table. It would have been her graduation piece, oneof her best works so far, usually standing proud on the shelfconveniently located within Lúcio’s reach.“Not just the furniture.” Lúciosays chagrined and picks something up from between the shards looking suspiciously like a bent pair of glasses. You take it from him,hold it up to your face. Nothing to be done about those exceptto give them a one-way ticket to the incinerator.“Alright.” Time to think positive.Breaking your stuff has successfully made Lúcio and Satya stoparguing. And you have an extra pair of glasses in your locker at thetraining range. “If one of you can help me down tothe range so I can get a replacement, we can clean this up togetherin no time.”“I’ll go.” “I will assist you.”They glare at each other, neitherwanting the other to be alone with you to try and get you on theirside. “I broke your glasses.” Lúcioargues. “It’s only fair if I help you.”Satya opens her mouth, undoubtedly todeliver a scathing counter-argument. But then she closes it again.“I … will begin cleaning up, then.”she says and that had to be the first time she ever gave in in anargument with him. Neither of you have counted on this development.Satya looks like she’s disappointed in herself while Lúcio seemsto be reeling from whiplash.You don’t offer them any chance toruin the tentative truce Satya just created and link your arm withLúcio’s, urging him to lead you to the training range.The way is slow on account of youhaving to feel your way forward more than see it. He leads you along with short words of caution when there’s steps ordoorways. Angela offered you more than once to take care of yourshort-sightedness with laser treatments. So far you’ve declined butin an emergency you’d be, as the saying goes, royally fucked.“Honestly, I expected you to tell me all about how wrong Satya is by now.” you say when you arrive at therange and he hasn’t said half a dozen words. He shrugs, guiltyconscience coming off of him like music. “I shouldn’t have broken herconstruct.” he says while he keys in the password to the lockerrooms.“Yeah. Kind of a shitty thing to do.”There’s no sweet-talking what he didand you won’t insult him, or Satya’s hard work, by lying. Yousearch your locker for the case that holds your glasses.“I know. I was just so angry withher, everytime we argue it’s the same thing. She only needs to sayone word and she makes me feel like I’m nothing. Like she’slowering herself to our level. Like she’s doing us a favour beingwith us. I just wanted to … I don’t know ... ““Hurt heras much as she hurt you?” you suggest and add: “Shit. They aren’there.”“What do you mean ‘not here’?”He comes up behind you, searches the locker that remains devoid ofany glasses. You wrack your brain trying to remember where you putthem. The beginning headache doesn’t help the thinking effort. Youclose your eyes and that eases the pressure a little as your eyes areallowed to relax, rather than straining to make out the simplestshapes.You hear Lúcio laugh softly by yourear, before he wraps his arms around your waist.“Now I wish we’d used Satya’stidying system.” he says, half as a joke, half serious. Back whenshe suggested it he made fun of it for a whole day until she droppedthe issue. The thought occurs that destroying her prized constructwasn’t the first time Lúcio tried to reflect some of his own hurtback at her.“You should tell her that.” yousay, making your way back to your apartment. You’ll have to callAngela and hope she still has the 3D blueprints for your glassesstored in her database. If she has, printing a new pair should takeless than an hour.The call is quickly made and Lúcio,who stays close at all times to prevent you from breaking your neckdue to an invisible blob of tripping hazard, takes your words toheart. When you come back to the apartment, cleaned up as if nothinghad broken, the first thing he does is ask Satya if she still hasthat cleaning system she made for him. She’s taken aback, you cantell, and suspects foul play but while you sit down and squint atyour phone for Angela’s number, she sends him the file. It comeswith a holographic map of the apartment and other often frequentedplaces and it becomes clear quickly that Lúcio never actually gaveit a second look before cracking his jokes.“You made all this?” he asks,zooming in to the holo kitchen where in clickable cupboardsare all your hypothetical spices, teas and baking supplies, neatlystored and labeled. He holds it out to you but you shrug, unable tosee more than blue light, but remembering the outline well enoughfrom back when she made it. “Of course.” Satya says, not evenlooking when she pushes the glass you’ve been reaching for intoyour hands. Chances are you would have spilled coke all over the carpetif not for her intervention.Helping you out keeps the peace. Theyhaven’t finished their argument yet, unsaid words still hang in theair, but your sudden helplessness gives you all a much neededbreather. Angela sends an affirmation that the 3D printer is runningand your new glasses will be finished soon, and while you’reprepared to quietly sit and wait, Lúcio has other plans. He flopshimself onto the sofa, one arm around you, wearing his most winningsmile.“Guess what I’m thinking of.” hesays and you’re surprised he’s in the mood for games whenSatya sits on your other side, decidedly more graceful, and says:“Isit smaller than a human being?”“Yes.”Back and forth it goes, Satya askingincreasingly detailed questions, Lúcio answering them with yes’and nos. She wins the first round, guessing ‘tadpoles’, and hewins the second, guessing ‘famous Archi-tech Kunlé Adeyemi’. Itspeaks for how well they do listen to each other that he managed toget that one.Look how well we get along, they seemto say, look how we’re not fighting and breaking your stuff. Sometime between Satya losing a roundto ‘phono pre-amplifiers’ and Lúcio struggling to guesssomething that is both ‘lighter than an atom’ and ‘larger thanthe known universe’, you pull them against you, kiss firstLúcio, then Satya. “Thank you.” you say. “For makingthis effort.”He curls up against you, entwines yourfingers with his, while she shuffles a bit to find a position thatallows her to stay close but not feel stifled.“The difficulties we have are worthovercoming.” she says and for a few seconds she looks you both inthe eye, to reinforce how serious she is with the point she made.Lúcio agrees and shortly after admitsdefeat when he can’t guess what Satya is thinking of. She smiles aprivate little smile and says as if she’s letting you in on asecret: “It is my love for you both.”