#she also couldn’t stand me. so I’m quite sure if she saw it she’d really make sure it got thrown away

[iloveyoumorethansoup]

I texted my roommates from last year asking if any of them had taken one of my baking pans and they all said they hadn’t seen it so I texted one that wasn’t in a group chat and she’s like oh yeah it got left behind and since we knew it was yours and you left we threw it out. Like. What???

[cosmicmunsonwrites]

Drunk reader meets rafe while he’s talking to his friends. Your drunken status leaves you falling asleep on his lap with him taking you back to his house so your safe

but you came right on time

pairing(s): rafe cameron x fem!reader

warnings: alcohol consumption

summary: after having one too many drinks, you find yourself talking to outerbanks’ golden boy.

authors note: guys i’m so sorry for not updating but with school starting last week, i’m literally dying rn. i changed it up just a tad :) thank you for the request though and i really hope you enjoy!

not edited

do not copy my works. i do not condone rewrites, translations, or edited versions. all my content is my content that i wrote.

not my gif

you were currently sat on the couch with a cup of cheap beer in your hand, waiting on your friend to return from wherever she’d gone. she was your ride after all.

“dude, shes smokin’ hot,” you heard a boy say from your right. you then saw him point to a girl across the room. he was standing with a green beer bottle in hand while talking to another guy sat right next to you.

the boy next to you was very pretty. he also looked very troubled.

“are you okay?” you drunkenly asked, trying to provide him some sort of comfort.

his blank expression immediately morphed into one your couldn’t quite make out when he looked towards you. “what?”

you had thought it was a pretty straightforward question. “are you okay?” you repeated a little louder this time incase he couldn’t hear over the music.

he looked almost confused. “yes? why do you ask?”

you opted for a simple shrug before you took another sip of your drink. “you look upset,” you replied. “jus’ wanted to see if you were alright.” then you held out a hand in front of you. “y/n.”

he hesitantly took it. “rafe.”

“cool name,” you slurred out. once your hands were freed from one another, you leaned over and rested your head on his shoulder and cuddled into his side in desperate need of a nap.

you closed your eyes and allowed yourself to slowly find sleep.

rafe hadn’t even noticed, still engaged in a conversation with topper and kelce. but when he did, he couldn’t help but feel the urge to protect you in your vulnerable state. he gently grabbed the cup from your hand and placed it on the table along with his own. “i think ‘m gonna get going,” he alerted the other two.

“so soon?” kelce asked. “it’s just getting started.”

topper chuckled and hit the boys chest. “you gonna take her to your place or somethin’?”

“what else am i supposed to do? leave her here?” he asked with a quirked brow.

the blonde smirked. “i’m sure any other guy here would gladly take her home.”

“you’re disgusting, top,” kelce grimaced.

rafe simply rolled his eyes, not wanting to engage in a conversation with the idiot he called his best friend. he slowly stood up while making sure you wouldn’t fall over. once he was up on his feet, he lightly tapped your shoulder. “hey.”

you grumbled and stirred slightly. “what?”

“c’mon. ‘m gonna take you to my place, okay? i need you to follow me though,” he said softly, grabbing your hands and gently pulling you up on your feet. you drunkenly stumbled into his chest before finally gaining balance. “ready?” he asked as he snaked a hand around your waist for stability.

you nodded and leaned into him a little closer as you walked towards his car. once you arrived without falling over, he opened the passenger door and helped you get in and buckle up before shutting it and doing the same for himself.

fortunately, the ride to the cameron residence was short.

and to make things even better, his parents weren’t home. nor were his sisters.

with his assistance, you two had successfully made it up the stairs and into his bedroom.

“here,” he said, handing her an unopened bottle of water on his bedside table he’d placed there before he left earlier in the day. “take a seat and drink it.”

you groaned, closing your eyes as you sat down. “i don’t like water.”

his brow raised in confusion. “you don’t like water?”

you immediately shook your head slowly to avoid worsening your headache. “no. too bland.”

he couldn’t help but chuckle. “well, i need you to drink a little bit then you can head to bed.” he began to rummage through his drawers before dropping something onto the mattress next to her. “here. change into these. if you need anything, i’m gonna go get some ibuprofen from the kitchen.”

you nodded lazily and waited until he closed the door behind himself to change into the clothes.

when he returned, he knocked softly and asked a soft, “can i come in?” when he got no answer, he slowly opened the door to find you knocked out already. you were dressed in his hoodie and sweats that absolutely swallowed you. he glanced over at the water bottle as he headed to the closet, noticing you’d taken a few sips. he pulled out a soft blanket from inside and draped it over you in hopes of making you as comfortable as possible.

the thought of you not being here with him right now and having someone else take you home to do only god knows what to you was making his blood boil. it didn’t matter though. after all, you were here with him.

he grabbed out another blanket from the college and a pillow, making his bed for the night on the floor. if this were anyone else he was sleeping on the ground for, he’d be pissed. but knowing you were here and protected by him somehow just made him feel a whole lot better.

[augustvandyne]

Hi I wanted to ask if you would write a Lucy Chen imagine. Where the reader is also a police officer and gets hurt badly, so Lucy is very worried. Just fluff with a bit of angst.

Thank you very much.

ofc ofc ofc!

backup

Lucy could tell it was going to be bad by the shake of your voice on the radio. You’d shakily asked for backup, but it was too late.

You and Lucy hadn’t been riding together that day, and that was the worst decision Sergeant Grey had ever made.

You were assigned to a shop with yourself, while Lucy was with Tim.

She didn’t understand. She’d seen you twenty minutes ago, tops. But from there the two of you had went separate ways.

Her voice broke, “Tim,” as soon as your voice had disappeared, and with one look at the woman, he stepped on the gas.

Tim gave her the spiel, if she wasn’t able to handle it, she’d have to step aside until you were safely transported to the hospital, where Tim would take her right after this, along with the rest of the station.

To say the way you looked was bad, was an understatement. The sight of you had everyone speechless, even Nyla.

“Conscious, but unresponsive,” Nolan is able to get out over the lump in his throat.

The man you were obviously up against looked worse than you, if that’s even possible. He took a shot to the chest, and was DOA.

You, on the other hand, had taken several shots and several cuts. There were bruises starting to form along your body and blood pouring out of your cuts.

Bailey has to keep her tears from falling as she and her team load you onto a stretcher.

Lucy stands by the side the whole time, trying to keep her tears at bay, but she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t let a few slip.

Tim and the rest of the team escorted you to the hospital, following behind the ambulance that was going more than a few miles over the speed limit.

By the time Lucy had gotten to the hospital her face was red from rubbing her tears away and her hair was messy from her running her hands through it.

She’s out of the car and by your side before it’s even in park.

“Oh, my god,” Lucy can’t even look at you. She knows it isn’t her fault, but she can’t help but blame herself. She had a bad feeling the whole twenty minutes since she’d saw you, and she should’ve known. “Y/n, you’re gonna be okay. I’m gonna be here the whole time, okay? I’m not leaving until you’re sick of me.”

The nurses push you through, an O.R. already ready for you, as you are a loved face all over LA—the station, the community center, the hospital.

When the doors close, and Lucy can no longer follow, Tim is there to bring her into a tight hug.

He needed it just as bad as she did.

Lucy quite literally breaks down it his arms, and Tim isn’t sure what to do, so he just stays standing there with a broken Lucy in his arms until the rest of the team found the two of them.

The group went around hugging Lucy, which was greatly appreciated by her because she needed it, and that’s why everyone embraced her.

The two of you were at the height of your relationship, and so she was more in love with you than ever.

She was going to marry you, and she knew it, so she couldn’t let you die now.

Sergeant Grey granted Lucy a few days off to get you back up and on your feet, which she gratefully took.

●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

By the time your surgery was done, not a single person had left the hospital.

Tim had tried to get Lucy to go to the cafeteria to eat with him, and to get her to go home to get some things for you and herself, but she wouldn’t even budge.

Nyla had brought her at least two cups of coffee, but Lucy had just let them sit. She was still in shock.

Tim sat on Lucy’s right, while Nyla sat on her left.

Those three were the three most important people in your life.

Lucy was the love of your life. The reason you kept going. You’d attended the academy together, but you were a year behind her, so she’d never really spoken to you. Maybe once or twice at the bar, but that was it.

Tim was your best friend. Any problems you had, you took right to him. On your off days, he’d take you to your favorite food truck and did whatever he could to cheer you up, because when you were sad, there was no light in any room.

Then there was Nyla. Your T.O., mentor, teacher, whatever you wanted to call her. She would never admit it, but you were her favorite. You’d won her over in the first week, and that was a Nyla Harper record.

So here were your three favorite people, all praying you’d make it through this surgery, and then make it through the night.

The nurse that comes out happens to be friends with Tim, so he is able to sweet talk her into letting the three of them come see you in the ICU.

Even though you aren’t awake, Lucy, Tim, and Nyla want to see that you are okay and breathing.

You looked better.

The cuts had bandages over them, and most of the dirt on your face had been washed off.

You’d only taken two actual shots to your body—your ankle and your shoulder. Any other shots had been caught by the vest. That was evident from the bruises formed on your chest.

One of your legs had been cut up pretty badly, and it had stitches. Lucy knew you’d be self conscious over the big gash that ran horizontal on your thigh.

Nyla lets out a loud sigh, her hands on her lower back as she stares at the ceiling to keep the tears from falling.

“Where was her goddamn backup?” Nyla lowers her guard for a second when a tear falls down her face.

“Nolan was on his way,” Tim keeps his jaw clenched, his hands in his pockets to keep himself from doing something he’d regret. “He said he was responding. I don’t— I don’t know. He—“

Lucy stands in the corner next to Nyla, afraid to speak.

Seeing Tim and Nyla so distraught has Lucy’s tears come back. Her heart breaks and drops to the ground all over again, and it definitely doesn’t feel good.

“God, if I’d have drove faster, maybe—“

“Don’t blame yourself,” Nyla takes a seat in the chair by your side, holding one of your hands in hers. “Don’t blame anyone. It’s no one’s fault but the man who did this.”

“I had a bad feeling,” Lucy has to bite her lip to keep herself from breaking down again.

“Lucy—“

“No,” Lucy scoffs. “I should have known.”

●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

Lucy is still asleep by the time you wake up. Nyla and Tim agreed to take turns staying with Lucy until you were discharged from the hospital. Which would be in a few days.

You had a bit of internal bleeding, so the doctors want to keep you for a few days to watch over you.

Tim is in the cafeteria grabbing some air and coffee. The two of you were asleep, so he figured he could have at least ten minutes to himself.

You wake Lucy when you’re reaching for the water, your throat was uncomfortably dry.

Lucy is immediately grabbing the cup and pitcher and pouring you water.

“Lucy—“

“Don’t talk,” Lucy feels her eyes watering again.

“Then don’t cry,” You whisper. You try to reach out and wipe her tears, but it pains you due to the shot in your arm. “I think my arms broken.”

Lucy laughs, glad to have some relief after those last agonizing hours without you.

“You were shot in the foot and shoulder. Your shoulder is broken, baby, but you’ll be okay. You have a large cut on your right thigh, too. I’ll take you to physical therapy, and you’ll be as good as new, okay? Grey gave me the next week or so off, but if you need more time with me, I will stay off longer. You’ll be back soon enough—“

It takes everything in you to lean forward and kiss Lucy.

“It’s okay, Luce,” You smile. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Lucy’s features soften.

“Lay with me,” You insist.

“Are you sure you won’t break another bone moving over?”

“Lay with me,” You say more aggressive this time so Lucy knows you aren’t kidding.

“Okay, fine,” Lucy fits in the spot you open up for her, despite the pain it caused to open it, it was totally worth it. “Now, let me tell you about how I saw Tim crying.”

Tim decides to come in at that moment.

“Oh— you’re awake,” Tim’s brows raise.

“Come and sit,” You turn your head towards him as he sits in the chair beside your bed. “Lucy was just about to tell me about how big and bad Timmy was spotted crying.”

Tim rolls his eyes but listens anyways.

[mrsbsmooth]

So I saw that @cycat-carisi did a short fic where we got the return of Ozzy the way the girlies deserved. And I know, I know, Lewie stayed single. But I kiiiindaaa wanted to do one for him anyway because I missed him so here you go: a random quick fuckabout of what Lewie should've done.

EVERY MINUTE

Lewie/MC - 1000+ words - Teen and Up

(Or read on Ao3)

Lewie breathed a sigh of relief as Bella walked in. 

Single. 

A quick speech, something about not feeling a spark, and Bella was at his side again, squeezing him gently around the middle as they took their seats next to Grace, Ozzy, Amelia, Marshall, Roberto and Flo. 

“Thanks for sticking,” he whispered.

“Not gonna watch my best mate in here go home,” she whispered back. “Especially–”

Her cheeks twitched in a smirk, and she rolled her lips together, silencing herself.

Especially what?

But he couldn’t get Bella’s attention. She glanced over at Flo and Ivy, furrowing her brow as she quickly went to greet them.

It was weird. Based on the ceremony so far, he was surprised that Amelia and Roberto hadn’t gone last. Ozzy having an identical twin, and Amelia bringing him back to the villa? Surely that was a bigger bombshell than Elliot bringing Ivy back. Even the Hamish explosion was bigger news than Elliot and Ivy. 

Ever since Siobhan had gone home, Elliot was single. He was free to crack on as much as he wanted, and he definitely hadn’t wasted that opportunity. Siobhan’s side of the bed hadn’t even been cold before he’d invited Ivy into it. 

Lewie’s heart sank as he thought about it, but he seemed to be the only one. Each of the girls had beamed when they walked in, looking thrilled and happy to be returning to their original guy, or hand in hand with someone new. It was a lovely atmosphere, actually, especially Elliot and Ivy, who seemed from the very first day to have just clicked. Kind of like how Lewie had with Siobhan. Everyone was looking for a connection in here, and Elliot seemed to have found it with Ivy.

Good for him, I guess.

Maya, the host, instructed Elliot to stand, and he did so, helping Ivy to her feet with care.

“Elliot, you decided to twist. Why is that?”

Elliot smiled warmly at her. “Ivy is an absolute worldie, of course. She checks a lot of my boxes, and luckily, she tells me I check quite a few of hers. I’m so glad I had the opportunity to meet her.”

He turned back to Maya, who smiled and nodded. Her eyes flickered to Lewie, before asking Elliot yet another question.

“And you don’t miss Siobhan?”

Elliot’s face fell, and he also glanced at Lewie, frowning as he responded.

“Of course I miss her, she was a real presence in the villa. I think everyone will miss her. I do… regret… that I might’ve gotten in the way of Lewie spending one last day with her, though. It seemed like they had something really special. And in hindsight, yeah… I feel bad that I got in the way of that.”

Lewie shot him a sad smile, nodding his acknowledgement of the half-apology.

“Lewie, how do you feel about that?” Maya asked. 

He shrugged. “I can’t really blame him for shooting his shot. Siobhan was… something else.”

“Do you regret not following her out?”

He breathed a heavy sigh. 

That question had plagued him for days. From about five minutes after she’d left the villa, he’d been wrestling with it. He would’ve left Bella at risk. He didn’t even know if that was what Siobhan would’ve wanted. It was a lot of pressure to put on a new relationship, and they never could’ve guaranteed it would work out. 

But he knew his answer. 

“Every minute of every fucking day.”

Bella’s eyes widened at hearing him swear, and the other girls giggled, glancing between themselves. He furrowed his brow at them, a little annoyed at the fact they seemed to find it funny. 

“Do you think she knows that?” Maya asked. 

“I hope so,” he responded. “I’m hoping she won’t be upset that I didn’t.”

“Well, why don’t you just ask her?”

The door of the villa swung open, and Lewie’s stomach flipped.

No way.

He was on his feet before he even saw her, his heart racing as he tried to get a better look. It couldn’t be, it had to be a prank. There was no way.

But suddenly, there she was. In a skin-tight black dress, her long hair loose around her shoulders. 

She was there. 

She was back. 

And suddenly, he was moving.

He vaguely recalled pushing Elliot out of his way, tripping over himself as he damn near vaulted the firepit. He was across the lawn before he could think, up the stairs before he took a breath, his arms around her, his lips on hers, falling back through the doorway before he could even figure out if she’d brought someone with her or not. 

She whimpered as she threw her arms around his neck, grasping handfuls of his hair as she pulled him closer. He did the same; one hand in her hair, one on her lower back, holding her against him. It still wasn’t close enough. Tongues, lips, desperate hands, grabbing and pulling at each other as he pushed her up against the wall. He was struggling to hold back, and he could feel she was too, pulling him against her with a chorus of tiny, frantic moans.

He could vaguely hear raucous laughter from the firepit outside, but he didn’t care; they could make fun of him as much as they liked. He knew what he wanted, and it was right here in his arms– where she fucking belonged.

He broke apart from her for only a moment, taking a deep breath.

“If you leave again, I’m going with you,” he gasped. “I need you to know that.”

“I know, babe, I know,” she said, her breath heavy. “And I’m not going anywhere without you either. I promise.”

He brought his lips back to hers, kissing her deeply, and he could feel her smiling into the kiss. He couldn’t help but smile back, stroking his thumb over her cheek, as he felt his body start to relax once more. He’d realised while she was away that his body was wound tighter when he was away from her. He slept rough, he felt worse, and the days didn’t seem as bright.

As he kissed her over and over, he ran his hands over the patches of her bare skin that always drove him wild.

He loved everything about her.

He loved how he felt with her.

He–

He paused for a second, smiling into the kiss once more.

Maybe he’d save that one for later. 

[jawritter]

My Brother’s Keeper

Chapter 1

Summary: Y/N, Sam’s roommate, so far have a pretty good thing going. Both work and function around one another well. What happens when his big brother comes down for the holidays with his mysterious past, mixed with Sam’s own mysterious previous life? Can Y/N and the grumpy older brother find a way to get along? Or will it be a not so happy holidays at the Winchester house?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus Sized!Reader x Sam 

Word Count: 1782

Prompt: Roommate AU

Written for: @spnchristmasbingo

Rating: Mature (because of future chapters, this story is 18 + only, and not fit for minor consumption.)

Warnings: Angst, Some bickering

A/N: This is the first Christmas fic I have written in a long time! You guys will get this one real time, and I hope to finish it before New Years! Fingers crossed! Anyways, This fic is unbeta’d, so all mistakes are my won! Feedback is golden! My work is 18+ only! No minors! Thanks so much for reading! 

Main Masterlist

Y/N’s POV:

“You sure about this Sam, it is Christmas after all, what if your brother doesn’t want your roommate tagging along all weekend with you guys?” Y/N questioned for what was probably the third time that day, but the thought of Sam’s older brother coming to stay the weekend with the pair of them had her feeling extremely anxious, and a whole lot like the third wheel of the whole situation. 

“Yes Y/N, I’m sure, I promise, everything will be fine. Dean doesn't mind. He knows you live here; he’s not going to expect you to leave your own house, that you pay half the rent on, just because he’s coming to stay for the weekend. It’s really not a problem.”

Y/N pressed her lips into a thin line as she continued to load the dishwasher in front of her. She didn’t quite believe Sam; he had a tendency to downplay things. He was also a Dean Winchester apologist; she knew that for a fact. Not that she’d ever laid eyes on Dean, save an old picture that Sam had kept in his room. Still, some of the stories these two shared growing up! She knew they’d had a complicated childhood, but Dean Winchester was much like his father John in a lot of ways, and John, from what she’d remembered, was not a good person. Add the fact that Dean was a self-proclaimed ‘ladies’ man’, and she just was not looking forward to this weekend at all. 

Not that she was so deluded to think that Dean would actually hit on someone like her. She wasn’t exactly a ten. Her thighs seemed to touch together, no matter how much she exercised, and she didn’t have a super flat stomach. She wasn’t dumb enough to think that Dean would even look her way. She’d seen the pictures of Cassie, Lisa, some wanna be Barbie knockoff she couldn’t remember the name of, and a few others of his conquest via Sam’s sleuthing on Facebook and Twitter, Lisa being the latest. She looked nothing like those beautiful women. Dean wouldn’t even look her way. Still, she doubted the handsome Winchester wanted a female version of Java the Hut hanging around all weekend while he came to visit his baby brother, especially considering it was Christmas. 

“Trust me Y/N, Dean’s an alright guy. Once you get to know him, you’ll love him. Now, I’ve got to go to work,” Sam announced, suddenly standing from the table and closing his laptop before stuffing it in his bag. “Just try not to stress about it too much, okay Y/N/N? It’s gonna be fine, I promise.”

“Fine,” she agreed reluctantly as she pressed the start button on the dishwasher. 

She remained unconvinced, no matter how much Sam assured her that everything would be fine. There would always be this internal battle that the man would be repulsed by her the moment he saw her, like she felt that most men where, save Sam, he’d been her best friend for years now. He didn’t care what she looked like, or that she came from a poorer family. They connected immediately, and quickly became best friends. So, when she lost her apartment due to covid layoffs, Sam had gladly offered her a room in his house. She’d been living there for almost two years now and had never seen his family aside from pictures. She just assumed other than Dean, he didn’t get along with any of them, or they were all dead, she just never asked. It wasn’t any of her business. 

Sam had gone back to school later in life to finish his law degree, before she’d met him, and was now working his first year in his own law firm. He never really wanted to talk much about his life before this, or why he’d left Stanford, and what he’d done all those years in between, or how he’d ended up in Detroit for that matter. All he’d ever say when she’d asked what he’d done in his time, life really, off of school, he just said the story wasn’t all that interesting, and blew her off. She knew Dean played a role in it, because he talked about his big brother all the time, and even talked about some of the adventures they’d had on the road, people they’d met, places they’d stayed in, sights they’d seen, but he never would give her more information than that; never would tell her why they were on a road trip together, or what happened in between to ultimately separate them.

Though, she was pretty sure his ex-girlfriend, Eileen, might have had something to do with it. He’d said that ultimately, ‘they had different goals in life,’ and because of that, it just didn’t work out. 

The only thing she knew about the oncoming house guest, aside from all the above, was that he was a private detective, and worked closely with law enforcement after doing two years as a working FBI agent. She never told Sam, but she had tried to look him up once, and all she found was an obituary, claiming him to be dead. For some reason, she thought that the FBI part of Dean’s story wasn’t exactly true, but considering his line of work, she thought that it must be a ‘need to know’ kinda thing,’ and she didn’t ask more than that. She had a hard enough time in her current life, she didn’t need to have to go into witness protection program and start all over again. 

“Oh, and Y/N, I’m probably gonna be late this evening, the meeting with this client is probably gonna be long, so Dean’s gonna beat me here. Just let him in, he knows how to make himself at home,” Sam called over his shoulder, closing the front door tightly behind him before she had the chance to argue with him about it. 

Y/N’s nostrils flared as she glared at the door. He’d known all morning that she’d be alone here when Dean got here, yet he waited until he was leaving to drop that little tidbit of information on her! 

She picked up her phone, opening her text app, and sent him a lovely little message about how payback was going to be a bitch, and she wasn’t going to be his brother’s keeper, nor his entertainment, or babysitter for that matter, so he can bring his ass home and do a goddamn zoom meeting for the rest of the week. 

It didn��t help the situation at hand any, but it made her momentarily feel better. That is, until she looked around the room at the state of the messy house in front of her. 

Running one hand down her face, she assessed the state of things, before deciding it was more important that the man show up to a presentable house, rather than taking the time to go fix herself up for nothing, because messy bun and PJ’s, or full face of makeup and fixed hair with nice clothes, it really didn’t matter, all that effort would have been for naught anyway, it wasn’t like he’d even look twice at her. 

Y/N took a deep breath, yelled for Alexa to turn on Metallica on Pandora, and made her way into the kitchen to go and retrieve the broom. There was no putting off the inevitable, but at least cleaning will distract her for a while. 

Dean’s POV: 

“For fucks sakes Sammy!” Dean barked into the phone he had jammed between his right shoulder and ear as he hurried around his bedroom, shoving clothing into a duffle bag that was once used for hunting, but now he just kept it around for weeks he decided to go see his baby brother, still, as his large hand gripped the faded green material of the strap, the memory was not lost on him. Not at all. “You can’t even take off for one day before your vacation is supposed to start! It’s not like I get a free weekend all the damn time. I’m driving all the way up there to see you, not spend time with your roommate.”

“You will only beat me there by a few hours Dean, she doesn’t bite or anything,” Sam argued, the eye rolled damn near audible in his voice, and Dean growled into the phone with all the righteous indignation he could muster, mostly because he knew the next words that were about to come out of Sam’s mouth. “Besides, it’s not like you haven’t had to spend an hour with a strange girl you didn’t—”

“I’ve told you, that’s not me anymore Sam! I’m damn near 44 years old! I’m old, cranky, probably got a little PTSD, and a fucking control freak. That poor girl doesn’t want to spend her afternoon looking at me of all people!”

“I’ll see you when I get home Dean,” Sam insisted, “and try not to knock up my best friend before I get home. She’s hot, but I have faith you can keep it in your pants for an hour.”

“Fuck you— wait a minute, what do you mean she’s hot?” Dean questioned and Sam laughed as he hung up the phone. 

Dean grumbled as he tossed his duffle bag over his shoulder and turned to examine his room for the last time to make sure he had all he needed before whistling at Miracle to follow him. 

Sam said she was hot, but honestly, he wouldn't let his dick get in the way of good sense. He’s not the man he used to be, he had scars, big ones, one that poor girl didn’t need to see. Besides, if Sam thought she was hot he wasn’t gonna step in on his girl. Sammy deserved a normal, happy life, and if this girl could do that for him, he was going to behave himself, no matter how hot she was. 

“She better-not-be allergic to dogs,” Dean said to Miracle as he approached his Baby sitting in the parking garage as shiny and pretty as the day she’d been driven off of the lot. The only woman that hadn’t done him wrong, and he’d do well to remember it. “‘Cause if she is, I'll pick you over my brother’s roommate. She can just get a fucking hotel or something.”

Miracle sat and stared, tongue hanging out, and completely unenthused. 

Dean sighed as he opened the passenger door for his four-legged friend to jump in, “yeah, figured you’d care about as much,” he murmured as he closed the door. “Least you care more than Sam apparently does. It’s almost like he doesn’t want to see me at all.”

Pt. 2 HERE!!!

Forever:

@demongirl1996​​​​​​​  

@as-lost-as-sams-shoe​​​​​​​

@jensenslady79​​​​​​​

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[satansapostle6]

Kids | Rodrick Heffley

Spotify Playlist Link

Rodrick Heffley becomes obsessed when he finally meets his thirty-five year old band mate, Bill Walter’s, younger sister.

Warnings: Mature themes/language. Drug use. Sexual content. Violence.

“The Baby Sister”

“The Family Legacy”

Rodrick couldn’t stop thinking about Sara in the past week since they first started to become friends. It was a sickness.

Today alone, he thought about her first thing in the morning, as he opened his eyes and woke up, as he was brushing his teeth(he hoped his breath didn’t smell bad), as he put on his deodorant(he hoped he didn’t smell bad), as he got dressed, while he drove to school, and all throughout his classes.

He knew he had to do something about his feelings for Sara, because they were really starting to become apparent to most of the other people in his life. This, of course, included his band mates, although Chris and Ben also had eyes for Sara Walter, just like any of the other boys who saw her. Rodrick figured the only reason Sara wasn’t as popular as Heather Hills was because she just didn’t want to be.

Sara spent most of her time in and out of school alone, so naturally Rodrick felt pretty important when she decided to spend her time in his company. She typically came with Bill to band practices in Rodrick Heffley’s garage, where she served as quite the distraction to her brother’s younger band mates.

But that day, the members of the charmingly spelled Löded Diper were busy trying to put together a decent set list, for a small backyard party. Rodrick had been standing around with his arms crossed, rolling his eyes as he and Bill watched Ben and Chris argue over songs. Sara, who sat on the couch, decided she’d tune out all the arguing and work on her flash of potential tattoo designs.

“Will you two just shut the fuck up so we can figure this out?!” Rodrick groaned.

“Just give ‘em a few minutes, little bro,” Bill offered his wisdom as he patted him on the shoulder. “Oh. Dude. I almost forgot.”

“What?” Rodrick asked him in fear, thinking it was some sort of band emergency.

“You should totally ask Sara Bear to come to the party with you!” Bill whispered urgently, eyeing his sister to make sure she wasn’t listening in.

“But… can’t Sara drive herself?” Rodrick questioned.

“No, dude, like on a date!” Bill urged him.

“…What?” Rodrick asked skeptically.

He didn’t know anything about having a sister, but he was certain there was no way any guy would willingly encourage his friend to ask his younger sister out.

“Yeah, man, she’s crazy about you!” Bill insisted. “It’s so obvious!” he scoffed.

“She ashed her cigarette on me the other day,” Rodrick frowned, not trusting him at all.

“That’s how she flirts!” Bill exclaimed. “If she did that to you, you’re in! I mean…Not in. That’s still my baby sister. But, anyway, dude, she likes you.”

“…Really?” Rodrick asked, deciding if anyone knew Sara, it had to be her brother.

“Yeah! You should ask her out. Right now,” he encouraged.

“Okay!” Rodrick exclaimed, walking over to the couch. “Thanks!”

“Yeah, anything for you, brother!”

He then realized that, just like the first time he ever had a real conversation with Sara, he had gone over there with no plan. But, it was already too late, so he decided to just go with it.

“Hey, Sara Bear!” he blurted out, visibly cringing and once he realized what he’d said.

“Hey… Roddy,” she frowned humorously, “What’s up?”

“Uh… I was thinking,” he began.

“I’m impressed,” Sara nodded approvingly.

“No…” Rodrick massaged his temples in frustration as he tried to come up with something good, naturally failing. “I was wondering if you were gonna go to our gig this weekend? At the house party?”

“Yeah,” she replied supportively, “I’ll be there.”

“Alright! Totally! Cool…” he trailed off, trying to regain his composure. “Uh… I was thinking, that, maybe… I don’t know…” he struggled to the point of completely abandoning his train of thought.

“Huh?” she asked in confusion.

“Uh, I don’t know, I just wanted to see if maybe you’d, uh, wanna…”

“Go out with you?” Sara offered, coming to the conclusion before he did.

“Yes! …Yeah,” he nodded, trying to still seem somewhat cool, even if that wasn’t really an option.

Rodrick stood there awkwardly, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his grey jeans.

“Yeah,” Sara nodded with a smile. “For sure.”

“Really?” he laughed, catching himself just as she did. “I mean. Really?” he flirted.

“I know Bill put you up to this,” she smirked, eyes glancing at her older brother for a split second, “He’s been talking you up to me for the past week. He’s a real wing man, by the way.”

“Oh. Cool,” Rodrick remarked, slowly turning to look back at Bill, whose widened eyes suggested he was desperate for an update.

Completely clueless, Bill gave Rodrick a questioning thumbs up as Sara watched. Rodrick slowly made an awkward thumbs up, to which Bill nearly reacted by jumping up and down and shouting. After that, Rodrick returned to the band, feeling rejuvenated.

Just before 6 o’clock, Mrs. Heffley poked her head into the garage, watching as Chris and Ben both took off. Bill and Sara still remained, as Rodrick discussed various details of a song with the thirty-five year old.

“Rodrick? Dinner’s ready,” Susan said.

“I’ll be in in a minute, Mom,” he called, “I’m still talking to Bill and Sara,” he said patiently, pointing out his friends standing in front of him.

“Well, I told you that dinner was ready ten minutes ago, and we’re not eating until everyone’s seated at the table,” she stated calmly. “If you still have things to discuss with your friends, you can do that at the table. We have plenty of food,” she offered.

“It’s okay, Mom,” Rodrick assured her, “Bill and Sara were just—”

“Oh, Mrs. H, we’re starving!” Bill spoke for his sister before she could protest, “Thanks!”

“You’re welcome,” she smiled warmly, “Come on in. I made spaghetti.”

“I love spaghetti!” Bill exclaimed childishly as Rodrick and Sara exchanged looks.

The pair of siblings followed Rodrick into the Heffley house. Bill was much more excited, while Sara seemed a lot more tentative.

“Guys, Rodrick’s friends will be joining us for dinner tonight,” Susan Heffley smiled.

Rodrick took his usual seat beside Greg, who seemed to see Sara’s presence as an opportunity. Rodrick glared at him angrily, as Sara sat down directly across from him, next to Bill.

“I’m so sorry,” he mouthed to her silently, only to receive a tiny ‘it’s okay’ back.

“So, we know Bill,” Susan began, turning to Sara, “I’m sorry, sweetie, what was your name?”

“Sara,” she smiled timidly. “I’m in the same grade as Rodrick.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” Frank said pleasantly as he filled his plate. “You go to Crossland?”

“Mhm,” she nodded, hesitantly putting food on her plate as Bill piled a mess of salad and spaghetti onto his.

“Oh, wow. And Bill’s your older brother?” Susan asked.

“Yeah,” Sara nodded, as Frank Heffley completely froze.

Rodrick’s father’s face froze as Rodrick tried to stop him from making a scene, only to be completely ignored.

“I’m sorry, your Bill’s sister?” the man asked shakily.

“Dad…” Rodrick said nervously.

“Yeah,” Sara responded, not seeming as awkward.

“Rodrick’s taking my baby sister out this Saturday,” Bill announced proudly with a mouthful of meatballs. “He’s been crushing on her all week,” he teased.

Greg turned to Rodrick, eyes widened in fear as both of their parents slowly took in the girl’s appearance, from her balayage, to her thin eyebrows, to her loose-fitting grey sweater that she wore off the shoulder. Luckily, she seemed somewhat more conservative without makeup.

“…Oh,” Frank gasped, still in shock. “So that was your cigarette out there last week?” he concluded, seeming horrified.”

Rodrick was horrified.

“What?” Susan questioned, having no idea what he was talking about.

“You’re the girl Greg told us about that was smoking?” Frank continued.

“Dad!” Rodrick exclaimed, mortified.

“Uh, no, Mr. Heffley,” Sara said quickly, “I don’t smoke… That must’ve been my cousin Cindy that was with me, we hang out a lot, so she’s always with me.”

“Yeah,” Bill agreed, realizing this was his fault,“Cousin Cindy’s a huge smoker. Coughs up a lung every morning.”

“Yeah, Dad, I wasn’t talking about Sara,” Greg promised, feeling uncomfortable.

“Oh,” Frank murmured, allowing himself a moment to adjust, “Sorry. That was rude,” he smiled, trying to be disarming.

“Yes, it was,” Susan agreed with her husband. “So, Rodrick, you’re finally introducing us to your girlfriend?”

Greg nearly choked on his food from laughter as Rodrick’s mouth stood agape in horror.

“Mom!” he gasped, mortified.

Sara just looked across the table at Greg, seeming to just be appreciating the humor in the situation, if anything. Rodrick said nothing to her, and just have her an apologetic grimace.

“We’re not dating!” he cried.

Sara tried her best to hide her involuntary grin at the absurd situation.

“But, aren’t you going out on a date?” Susan asked.

“Honey, just let them be,” Frank said calmly, “They’re just kids…”

“Well, I just wanted to know!” the woman argued.

Rodrick watched powerlessly as Sara uncomfortably looked down at her plate, feeling horrible. He didn’t know what to do to help the situation, but he felt even if he could think of something, it probably wouldn’t work anyway. There wasn’t much he could do for either of them at this point.

Sara sat in her seat quietly throughout the meal, only speaking when spoken to, and constantly looking to her brother to signal that they should leave. But, unfortunately for her, her brother was Bill. Bill didn’t seem to be getting the hint. It was probably another 45 minutes or so before he announced that they’d be leaving.

“Alright, Mr. and Mrs. H, it’s been real, but me and Sara Bear gotta go,” Bill said as he stood, “We’ll catch you guys later!”

“Alright, take care,” Susan Heffley smiled, a strange discomfort behind her eyes.

“See you,” Frank smiled.

“I’ll, uh, walk you guys out,” Rodrick volunteered, standing with them.

He awkwardly walked behind Sara, hand anxiously hovering over the small of her back as he ushered her out of the house.

“I am so sorry,” he sighed, looking at Sara to see if there was a chance he’d ever see her again.

“Aw, don’t be!” Bill said cluelessly, “I had a great time!”

Sara just shook her head as they all walked out the front door.

“Bill, can you start the car?” she asked politely, intending on having a talk with him later.

“Oh, I get it,” he smirked, looking up at Rodrick, “You two want some alone time.”

“Yes, we do,” she agreed impatiently, waiting for him to walk away before directing her attention back to Rodrick. “So…” she grimaced.

“So…” he genuinely had no idea what to say at this point.

“Sorry, I tried to get Bill to leave, but… you know how he is,” Sara sighed.

“No, it’s fine. My parents don’t hate you guys or anything. They just think I’m gonna turn out like Bill,” Rodrick frowned, not hearing himself.

“Yeah. So do mine,” she assured him. “That’s kind of the problem with them.”

“Well… I actually think you’re really cool the way you are,” Rodrick thought aloud, not sure if he sounded stupid.

“Thank you, Rodrick,” Sara nodded, looking up at him in a way that made his knees buckle.

“You’re welcome,” he stared back, still terrified of her.

“I’ll, uh… I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said as she left, worried that if she showed how excited she was everything would immediately start to go wrong.

“See you tomorrow,” he echoed, watching her as she left.

The car ride home wasn’t too bad for Sara. It was easy explaining to him where he went wrong with Mr. and Mrs. Heffley, but it was more difficult for Sara to get him to see the problems with their own family.

“Bill, we saved up enough money,” Sara sighed as they arrived at home. “We could get an apartment, easily. You can be my guardian until I’m 18. We both make enough money—”

“Sar, I told you, we can’t,” Bill sounded heartbroken listening to his sister. “We can’t just leave Connor!”

“Bill, forget about Connor!” she argued, “We need to think about us, just this once!”

“That’s Mom’s job,” he reminded her, “That’s all she’s ever done, is think about us. We can’t just leave her.”

“Bill, she’s an adult, and so are we,” Sara scoffed, looking at the house that wasn’t their childhood home from the sidewalk. “I can’t stay in that house anymore, Bill. Not after that night.”

The incident of three weeks ago was still a very sensitive topic in their household.

“Look, I get it, I really do,” her older brother promised, “But it’s just a couple more years. Less than a year. And then you can do whatever!”

“And what about you, huh?” she demanded. “You’re just gonna stay here, forever, in the basement? Just because of Connor?”

“He needs us!”

“He’ll be okay!” Sara insisted. “It’s not like we’re leaving the country, we just need a little space! We both did our time in that house, and now we need to get out for our own good!”

“I can’t do that,” Bill said with finality.

“Can’t, or won’t?” she questioned, looking him in the eyes.

“I can’t. I can’t leave Connor.”

“You can’t leave Connor, or you can’t leave Mom?”

“I’m not leaving, Sara,” he said softly. “You can. But I have to stay. Okay?”

From the pained look on his face to the glassy reflection in his eyes, Sara knew she couldn’t press it any further. She was angry, and she needed to leave, but she knew her brother had been hurt enough.

“Okay,” she nodded, dropping the subject entirely.

“Okay,” Bill nodded vigorously, sniffling as he tried to regain his youthful energy.

The more Sara looked into the darkness of his eyes that night, the more she realized that it was his childhood that had aged him so.

“Please, for the love of God, Sar,” he sighed, before they walked up to their house. “Just don’t start with him.”

“I won’t start with him if he doesn’t start with me first,” she muttered as Bill opened the door for her.

The two quietly entered their home, hoping they wouldn’t be noticed and could just slip by. Unfortunately, this wasn’t the case.

“You guys sure are home late,” said a voice that made them both shake.

Randy Sharpe, their stepfather, was seated in the living room, reading a book written by a man who could supposedly make anyone a millionaire.

“We had dinner at the Heffleys’,” Bill said through gritted teeth as Sara stopped behind him.

“It’s not even 7 yet,” she said quietly.

“What’d they feed you?” the man asked, being the only one that found humor in his musings. “Caviar on toast?”

“Spaghetti,” Sara interjected. “They’re nice people.”

“And I’m not?” he looked up from his book.

“Yeah, you’re a real peach, Randy,” Bill muttered, creeping off toward the basement as their mother entered the room.

“Hey, Bill. Hey, Sar Bear. How was practice?” Destiny Sharpe asked, intentionally moving the conversation along.

“Good, thanks, Ma,” Bill walked off.

“You know,” Randy chuckled, watching him as he took off his reading glasses, “It makes sense, letting that one come and go as he pleases, I mean… he’s half gone already, but Sara’s still a kid,” he pointed out, pointing his glasses at her.

“Randy, Sara’s sixteen, she’s old enough to not have to come home before 7,” Destiny chuckled, still finding the situation humorous, “Besides. When she works, sometimes she’s not home ‘til 11.”

“What does she need a job for?” he questioned. “She’s a kid!”

“So are you, Randy,” Sara used his name like an insult.

“Hey,” her mother frowned.

“What, he gets to sit there and criticize us all day, but the second someone responds, he’s only human?” she gestured to him in disbelief.

“Hey. Show your mother some respect,” Randy said sternly.

“You first,” Sara cocked her head at him. “Has Mom even seen her paycheck this month? Huh? Could she even tell me how much it’s for, or do I have to go through your ‘accountant’?”

“That is enough,” Destiny interrupted, “Sara, have you been smoking? Weed, that is, because I can smell the box 100’s from over here.”

“I wish,” she responded honestly, glancing over at her stepfather. “I don’t know how else anyone deals with him.”

“What was that, a shot?” Randy butted in. “Taking shots at your mother now?”

“Don’t get any ideas, I’ve seen that shitty Glock you own.”

“Sara!” her mother exclaimed. “You shut your mouth right now—”

“Mom?!”

Everyone looked up at the top of the stairs in a panic as a small twelve year-old looked down the stairs.

“Have you seen my PE shirt?” Connor asked.

Destiny squeezed her eyes shut, trying to calm herself for a moment. “Uh… Yeah, baby! It’s in your drawer!”

They all watched him run back up into his room, silently looking around at each other.

“You two need to learn to get along if you’re going to live under this roof,” Sara’s mother pointed at the two of them warningly.

“Or, you could just throw him out on his ass like you should’ve years ago,” Sara crossed her arms.

“Sara,” Destiny glared, finger pointed accusingly, “You best believe that the first of the two of you to be thrown out of this house wouldn’t be Randy.”

Sara tried to contain the hatred growing within her as Randy mockingly pumped his fist in silence as his wife walked away.

“You know, Sara Bear,” Randy said with a smile, “I don’t know why you’re so determined to hate me. I’ve never laid a finger on you, or your mother. You kids wouldn’t have survived a day with my father.”

“You might not have ever hit my mom,” Sara admitted, “But I wish you would. Just so she’d realize what kind of person you are.”

Before she could lose control, Sara ran off into her room, luckily without doing anything she would regret. Not having any other options left, she angrily sank her fist through her door, putting another hole in it just like the one her middle brother had left in it after Bill shoved his head through it.

Ever since he left, Sara had times where she’d almost forget their brother Paul. They never spoke about Paul, and Paul never spoke about them. Sara envied Paul.

-

“The Date”

[eternalchiyo]

𝔼𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕊𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕜 ~𝔻𝔸ℝ𝕂 05~

Summary: Yui and Chiyo bond?

Word Count: 1395

Chiyo huffed when she finally unloaded the books on one of the tables in the mansion’s study. She ended up taking a bunch of biblical essays with her, as well as some books that seemed to have biblical themes.

She took a moment to gather her thoughts on a sheet of paper. What did she know so far?

Dreams about Lilith, Adam and Eve, a new group of Vampires that suddenly appeared in town, her being sent to this mansion as well as a car crash…

Were these related? What would the Mukami family have to do with all of this? Absentmindedly she started to bite her lower lip, a horrible habit to have when you were a Vampire with fangs. She drew some blood.

Her train of thought was interrupted by a tap on the shoulder. Chiyo jerked her head up to see who was standing behind her.

It turned out to be Yui.

She really needed to work on being more conscious about her surroundings now that there were so many people she’d rather avoid. Looking up at the girl with a defeated sigh, she asked:

“Did you need something?”

“I’m sorry, I called out to you, but you didn’t answer, that’s why I came closer.”

“I did not ask about that, did I?”

“Right,” Yui said, “I wanted to apologize. For what happened on the rooftop the other day.”

Chiyo frowned but made no attempt to stop the other girl from continuing her monologue.

“You see, there was never anything between Shuu-san and I, I’m sorry if it seemed that way. And it looks like the two of you used to be very close, so I just… wanted to say that you don’t need to be worried about me liking him or anything.”

Chiyo rolled her eyes.

“I have more important things to do than worry about whatever sick play Shuu is into these days.”

“Are you sure? You seemed quite upset yesterday…”

Could it be that Yui was genuinely trying to make sure that Chiyo was doing okay? She couldn’t tell, such a thing was as foreign to her as the idea of working out was to Shuu. Quite honestly, the incident did bother Chiyo, but right now she felt as if she could put that thought away and focus on something more important.

“Listen, it’s complicated, okay?” Chiyo said.

She saw Yui fumble with her hands, visibly in thought.

“I have time to listen, if you’d like to share it after all,” she said.

Chiyo has never spoken about what had happened between her and Shuu with anyone. At the same time, she didn’t feel like she trusted Yui enough to start baring her soul now.

She eyed the girl warily.

“It’s just, it helps talking about things sometimes. But I understand that you might not want to talk about it,” Yui said.

“Well, we’re not exactly friends, are we?”

“Do you think we could be?” Yui asked. A bit too eager.

Chiyo never had a friend before. Shuu and she started out as friends, if she thought about it, but she never got along with any girls in the other world. Eventually she just accepted the fact that she was treated as an outcast. Truth be told, she never believed she needed anybody else but Shuu, he had been the center of her world ever since they became close. There was nothing else that she had use for when she had him. Only that now she did not have him anymore. She didn’t really have anyone.

But was it worth a shot to take the extended hand of the human girl in front of her?

“I don’t know,” Chiyo said, “I’ve never made friends before…”

It was embarrassing to admit it in front of Yui. She felt inferior to her, since she seemed like the kind of person that got along with most people. Yui probably had a lot of friends outside the Sakamaki mansion. Hell, she even seemed to get along with the brothers fine. As fine as someone could get along with them of course.

“That’s fine, there’s a first time for everything, right?”

Yui smiled her usual sweet smile. Part of Chiyo wanted to gag at how kind the other girl was, but part of her also felt grateful, relieved even.

“I suppose so…”

In the following days Chiyo decided that she might have to revise some of her conceptions about Yui. While she could be annoying at times with how much of a pushover she was or how she wanted to make everyone happy, Chiyo felt that she actually started to enjoy the girl’s presence.

It was nice to get her mind off Shuu and all the other things that have been happening lately. Maybe Chiyo has been too harsh on herself, trying to solve a mystery she might not even need to solve after all. Maybe she could just enjoy her time in the human world?

“Wow, Chiyo-san! You have so many perfume bottles!” Yui said in awe.

Chiyo had invited the girl to her room to spend some time. Yui has expressed an interest in Chiyo’s makeup skills before so Chiyo thought hanging out and doing some makeup might be fun for once.

“Oh, you know… gotta occupy yourself with something when you have an eternity to live,” Chiyo said sheepishly.

In truth, her obsession probably stemmed from everyone always pointing out her non-vampiric smell. Though she also liked the cute bottles.

Yui looked at all of them, her eyes stopping on a bottle that looked a little bit different from the others. A dark but semi translucent fluid in a clear bottle stood on Chiyo’s vanity. It had no label but a very intricate seal.

“What’s that one– “

She was about to reach for it when Chiyo pushed her hand away.

“Don’t touch that!”

The girl flinched and Chiyo’s eyes widened. She didn’t mean to raise her voice like that, but she also didn’t want Yui to touch this highly valuable flacon of demon essence.

“I’m sorry I– “

“No, I am sorry, I didn’t mean to... yell,” Chiyo said.

She placed the perfume bottle back on her vanity with a sigh.

“This is demonic essence; I use it to mask my human scent.”

“Human scent?”

Chiyo sighed again and looked at Yui with a tired expression. She motioned for Yui to sit down and took a seat opposite of her. For a moment she looked at her own reflection in the vanity mirror before speaking up:

“My mother was a human, but I suppose one of the others already told you as much.”

Yui nodded, a rather serious expression on her face.

“I don’t know her or anything, she died when she gave birth to me. But her smell still follows me everywhere, or rather the mix of Vampire and human blood apparently makes for something actual Vampires detest. So, my father had this made for me.”

“I see,” Yui said, “it seems your father must really love you for custom making something like this for you.”

Chiyo shrugged. She remembered how the last interaction she had with him was him slapping her across the face without even removing the rings from his fingers. She and her father hardly had any common ground; this perfume was the only thing she was grateful for. Sometimes she wondered just what kind of lunatic her mother must have been to have fallen for such a creature.

She turned towards her vanity once more, gathering a bunch of makeup products in her hands, before dipping a brush in sparkly eyeshadow.

“Anyway, enough of this depressing chit chat, hold still, okay?”

The girl’s skin looked smooth even up close. Chiyo wondered why so many people, well... the Sakamaki’s mainly, commented on Yui’s bad appearance, when it was perfectly fine. Sure, maybe a bit dull because she never went out of her way to actually do anything special about it, but she could definitely work with that. She couldn’t help but drag a finger along Yui’s cheek.

“Wow...” she muttered.

“C-chiyo-san? What... are you doing...?”

Her flushed cheeks were kind of adorable, Chiyo chuckled. “I was just admiring your soft skin, not a blemish in sight,” she said, “Don’t worry, I’m not out to bite you. Now really stop squirming or it will mess everything up.”

[band--psycho]

Negan x Reader - To Stay Or To Go?

Yes it has been about a year since I last posted a Negan story - I'm sorry!

I know this story isn't the best but I hope you all enjoy this!💛

And yes I will be writing a part 2!

A sigh slipped past Y/n's lips when she heard a knock at the door; her best friend and bridesmaid, Kass, had gone out to fetch the curling tongs from her room, seen as Y/ns decided to break, today of all days.

'Could she cancel a wedding because of broken curling tongs?' she thought to herself.

“It’s open,” Y/n called out; as she stared at the dress that was hung up against the wardrobe at the back of the room.

Anxiety consuming her.

The hours were going by so quickly and yet there were still two hours before her wedding.

Her wedding…the idea still sounded bizarre.

Part of her did love the man she was marrying today; Y/f/n; he was funny, thoughtful, kind, caring and the sex between them was certainly better than sex she’d had with most people.

Most people in her position would be jumping up and down with excitement if he proposed to them; but even though Y/n pretended to be happy, she wasn’t.

Not really.

But she also didn’t want to break Y/f/ns heart or embarrass him; how could she say no without doing both of those things when he proposed to her in the middle of dinner while they were sitting in an extremely busy restaurant?

Everyone’s eyes were on her, expectantly, forcing the word yes to fall from her lips; and then it was like she just got caught up in this whirlwind and couldn’t get out.

And the one thing that held her back from loving the man she was marrying today, was something neither of them could ever change; he wasn’t Negan....

“How you feeling, sweetheart?”

The unexpected deep voice snapped Y/n out of her thoughts.

She wanted to turn around; to see if the owner of the familiar voice was really here; but she couldn’t bring herself to do so.

She was frozen on the spot, trying to work out if somehow she’d become a witch and teleported the

man her heart truly desired here.

He couldn’t be here?

How did he even know she was here?

There were so many questions that just didn’t make sense that she was sure she must’ve made up the whole scenario in her head; probably a warning from her heart to stop the wedding from happening.

To run.

“You not even gonna look at me, doll?” Negan asked, humor lightly lacing his voice. But Y/n did not move. She stayed frozen in the same spot.

“You’re not real,” she breathed; her mind continuously repeating those very words, over and over again.

“Oh trust me, sweetheart, I’m fucking real,”

“You can’t be,”

She kept telling herself that he couldn’t be real; but deep down she didn’t know what she’d do if he was real.

They didn’t have a horrible break up or anything like that, quite often Y/n wished they had broken up over something awful, that way maybe she wouldn’t still love him.

No, their breakup was the cliche of the right person, wrong time.

“Turn around,” he demanded softly; so she did, if only to prove to herself that he was just a figment of her imagination.

And there he was. Standing there in his same old classic look, a white shirt covered by a leather jacket, black jeans and black boots. He looked like he hadn’t aged at all since the last time she’d seen him; though the black circles under his eyes were darker than she’d ever seen them. A clear sign that he wasn’t sleeping properly.

The same look he practically always wore.

“C’mere,” he whispered, and it was like her body had a mind of its own because before she could even stop herself , she was wrapped up in his embrace.

One arm wrapped around her waist whilst the other was soothingly stroking the top of her head.

It felt like no time had passed even though five years had flown by since we last saw each other.

And still after all that time he felt like home.

She didn’t know how long she stayed like that with him but it was certainly longer than she should have.

“See, told you I was real,” he chuckled lightly, as he pulled her closer.

“What are you doing here?” Y/n mumbled against his chest, taking in the moment…taking in him, like he was going to vanish at any given moment.

“Kass called me,” he replied; making Y/n look up at him with a questionable look.

“She wants me to talk you out of getting married,”

Y/n knew Kass wasn’t happy about you getting married to Y/f/n; mainly because she could see that Y/n wasn’t truly happy with him. She wasn’t truly in love with him.

Kass had been trying to talk her out of this wedding for months; but Y/n just simply brushed off her comments.

“But I’m not gonna do that, sweetheart,” Negan stated, the words practically burning in his throat. He pulled back from Y/n slightly so his hand could move from the back of her head to her face, allowing him to caress her cheek as Y/n's eyes grew in confusion.

If he wasn’t going to do that then why was he here?

“You don’t need me to tell you this is a shit show of a wedding, by the look on your face you already know that,” he continued, making sure to hold her eye contact.

Negan didn’t want Y/f/n and Y/n to get married; why would he?

He still loved Y/n. He never stopped.

But this wasn’t his decision to make, it was Y/ns, it was always Y/ns.

“But I am gonna give you this,” as he said that he pulled away from her a little bit more before pulling out a key from his back pocket with a little post it note attached to it; and placing it carefully in her hand, “It’s a key to a hotel outta town, that’s the address for it.”

Y/n felt her heart stop as she glanced down at the key before looking back up at Negan.

“It’s for if you decide to leave,” he continued, with a softness in his eyes.

“Negan-”

“I won’t be there, not unless you want me to be,” as the words left his lips a cocky smirk tugged at the side of his mouth as he squeezed Y/n's hand.

She should’ve given him back the key; and told him that she was happy.

But that was a lie. But even though it was a lie she didn’t want to let anyone down or hurt Y/f/n because he didn’t deserve to be hurt.

Before she could say or do anything he pressed a delicate kiss to the side of her head before disappearing behind the door he’d entered from.

Leaving Y/n, alone, left with some difficult decisions.

Did she stay and marry Y/f/n or become a runaway bride?

And if she did run away from this marriage, what did that mean for her and Negan?

Years ago he was the right person at the wrong time; what if now he was the right person at the right time….

Taglist :

@little-diable @xacatalepsyx @bookworm1767 @backstagewiththemadness @thaliastregona @munsinner @impala1967dwinchester @mrsnegan @jdmsgal @howlingmadlady @https-lorna @nt-multi-fandom @wheelerdixon @dilfsandtherapy @bcarolina @bestbitchsstuff

[ceph-the-ghost-writer]

18 for the spotify wrapped game, please and thank you!

#18 - "Black No. 1" by Type O Negative

For the Spotify Wrapped Snippet Game

This is definitely an Ollie song/band (though, actually, she doesn't dye her hair fyi). I don't have her "voice" figured out yet, so this also made for a fun way to give it a try. Thanks for sending the prompt in!

Dysthanasia Taglist: @thecyrulik @theimperiumchronicles @k--havok (Sorry, I forget to do this so often that a couple of you might have no idea what's going on in this ^^;)

Words: 1,008

Content Advisory: Swearing, (mostly) joking references to violence

“Ollie?”

She was pretty sure she’d never heard Mergus shout before, actually. It was impressive he could make himself heard over the aneurysm-inducing volume of her stereo at all.

“Ollie!”

She kept ripping the stupid sticky notes from her bedroom wall, wadding them up and hurling them to the carpet, but with only a fraction of her attention.

“Oleander Blume.”

Oh, well, golly gee. Guess she was really in for it now. Smirking, she turned and spotted Mergus standing in front of the stereo set-up, hands shielding his ears. He’d lived through the Black Death, Industrial Revolution, and the Break, but couldn’t find the pause icon on a control panel. She strolled over and slid the volume bar down until only the tinny ringing of temporarily damaged hearing remained. With a sigh, Mergus lowered his hands.

“How on Earth could playing racket at that level be enjoyable?”

“Oh, what, you never cranked your hurdy-gurdy as hard as you could just to forget about the world for a while, old man?”

For that, he looked up at her with his Fledglings These Days Face. Though she rolled her eyes, Ollie pulled the hood of her sweatshirt back and swiped stray wisps of blonde hair away from her cheeks.

“Fine. I’m listening, okay?”

Rather than come right out with what he wanted, Mergus went and perched on the end of her bed. A vision of order and dignity in his flawlessly pressed suit against the backdrop of her tangled pentagram-pattern bedspread and a pile of black and red laundry she still hadn’t hauled to the washer. He plucked a pair of ripped jeans and a fishnet shirt out of the way so he could pat the spot next to him. Damn, it was going to be that kind of night then. Ollie dragged her combat boots as she walked, but parked her ass where told to all the same.

“Whatever it is, just say it. That fucking ghost got into my room again, so I’m not in the mood for a long fireside chat.”

His gaze flickered over to the remaining collage of sticky notes that had spelled her name out in spiky, three-foot high letters. “I thought one of Hawthorne’s aides warded your suite recently.”

“Well, that crusty ass zombie obviously didn’t send one of his best or brightest because the stupid haint made a mess.” Added to it. Whatever.

“Ceph only acts out for attention. They’d leave you be if you acknowledge them once in a while.”

“They’d be out of my hair permanently if I torched their room too.”

He didn’t dignify that with more than a raised eyebrow. He didn’t have to. Not when the memory of Wes Mayer attempting to do the same thing was still a household punchline. Of course, the ass-dragging mutt didn’t have enough brains or subtlety to fill a thimble either. Ollie, on the other hand, made a living on sneaky strategy.

“I stopped by,” Mergus said, “because I have an assignment out on the coast for you.”

“With who?” She already saw it coming, of course. The second he mentioned where they’d be going she knew.

Ollie still let out an agonized groan and flopped back on the bed, arms straight out to the sides as if she’d been crucified, when Mergus answered, “Renato.”

“Why don’t you just send a fluffy little dog along with me instead? Would be about as useful.”

The fine lines gathered in the corners of his eyes and lips deepened with the onset of his I’m Really Quite Serious Face. “I’ve considered the requirements carefully. This is the best way to meet all of them.”

“The best way to finally drive me bugfuck, you mean.” Sweet Satan on a stick. She could already imagine it. Having to watch him preen in the visor mirror every thirty seconds. Controlling her gag reflex while he flirted with every stranger from there to the Pacific. Listening to him bring up that goldfish for the billionth time. She’d beat his perfectly-shaped skull in with a tire iron before they got halfway to their destination.

“I already took into account your history together,” Mergus said. If bloodborn could develop gray hairs, his neat curls and close-cropped beard would’ve had new streaks. “You’ll be taking separate cars, staying in separate accommodations for the most part—but you will work together if it comes down to a fight. Is that understood?”

Ollie lifted her head enough to meet his stern gaze, her eyebrows and curiosity raised. “Who are we fighting?”

“If all goes well, drastic action won’t be necessary.”

“Is it Grandpa Ghoul or Muttley Mayer? Or both?”

He surrendered with a sigh. “Hawthorne and I have…not yet come to an agreement on how to best handle the matter.”

She grinned. “So, keep our heads on a swivel and chainsaw any ouroboroi that get in the way in half.”

Fledglings These Days Face made another cameo. “I’ll stress again that violence is a last resort. And you are not packing a chainsaw.”

“Fine.” She stuck her tongue out.“Spoilsport.”

“Can I rely on you to be civil in a meeting with Renato when I give you both your instructions then? Say, nine o’clock, my office?”

Propping herself on her elbows, Ollie made a show of considering it. “I’ll try to keep the biting and stabbing to a minimum. Sure.”

The smile that made his eyes glitter was worth any future headache. Mergus patted her knee and stood, smoothing his jacket and tie into place. “It means a lot, coming from you, my girl.”

Once alone again, Ollie glanced over at the small hill of laundry. With only a slight scowl, she got up and started stuffing it into a bag to take to the wash room. She was going to need clean clothes to pack soon. Good thing ninety-nine percent of her wardrobe consisted of black. When she made a mess with that chainsaw she planned to buy on the trip, the stains would never show.

[littleperilstories]

The Prince of Thieves: Nothing But a Foolish Child

Mood Boards | Chapter Titles | Also on A03!

Warnings: Mention of jail/prison, mention of death/execution, anxiety- and- fear- and- desperation-fuelled bad decisions 🙃

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Word count: 2254 || Approx reading time: 9 mins

Nothing But a Foolish Child

Teaser: Will would find this whole scene hilarious. “Really? That’s what you’re planning? Could you make it any more dramatic?” I can imagine the way he’d mime me pulling back the bowstring and imitate the sound of an arrow whooshing through the air.

Jamie

I’m only glad that I’m alone when I hear what happened to Will.

It’s old news by the time it reaches me—communicated lazily in bored, impatient mutters, punctuated mostly with smirks and eye rolls. Snatches of gossip drift past me on the wind as I steal through the market, keeping my head down: Were you there that day? Did you hear him scream? Anything else exciting happen lately?

At first, it all means nothing. People gossip all the time; they’ll watch anything if it brings a smidgeon of entertainment to the mundanity of their lives and talk about anything if it brings them enough attention.

Do you think he’ll be the next to hang?

It’s that question, asked between two merchants walking past a butcher shop, that makes me realize I should have been listening more intently.

I gather by the time I leave that my brother is—or was a few days ago—alive.

It’s a good thing that Geoff is staying at the cabin today.

One, he’d surely be upset to hear what they did to Will.

Two, I can hardly breathe, and he’s seen me break down enough times over the past weeks.

I can’t lose control in front of him again. He’ll worry, probably, if I don’t return soon, but I can’t go back to him, not like this.

It’s difficult to tell how much time passes before the shaking stops, before the pain in my chest subsides, before I can appear anything close tocalm.

What do I do now? Should I tell Geoff?

Whether to tell Colette isn’t a problem. Couldn’t tell her if I wanted to. No idea where she’s gone.

But Geoff is here.

He has a soft spot for Will, like everyone does who knows him well, but maybe a little more than most. I’m not sure what it is, because they couldn’t be more different. Geoff thinks Will is funny, for sure. Maybe, though, he sees something in my brother he can’t quite understand or reproduce himself—that loud courage, the frenetic energy and chaos, the downright obnoxiousness. So different from the quiet concentration, the gentleness hiding beneath Geoff’s hulking figure. The calm and surety that drew me to him from the beginning.

What would he say if he knew?

Sure bled a lot. Voices of cruel strangers echo in my head. Yeah, saw him fall. Damn, I’m sad I missed it.

My feet carry me to the one place I know I shouldn’t go. Colette would absolutely murder me if she knew. It’s one thing for her to swan around town, pretending to be a different person at every turn, flirting or eavesdropping to steal bits of news, sneaking around with her quick fingers and light footfalls. She’s more or less uncatchable.

You look like him, she’d remind me sternly. Or maybe she’d go for, You’re the one they’re looking for. Either way, she’d conclude with, It’s too dangerous, Alpha.

I stand outside the prison’s stone walls. Against all odds, I’ve never been on the inside of these bars and stones—but I would give anything to be the one behind them now.

I peer through the gate, trying to imagine the scene as it was a few days ago. Why wasn’t I here? If I had been, what would I have done? What could I have done? Anything? Nothing?

I’d do anything to find you. I promised Will that once, didn’t I? I’m a fucking liar.

I don’t know what to do. What I can do.

Everything is crashing down on me, crushing me, smothering me, forcing every ounce of air from my lungs and I’m not sure I’ll be able to catch my breath. It was supposed to be me. It was only a coincidence, a stroke of hell-sent misfortune that sent Will in my place to what should have been nothing more than a fucking conversation. It’s me the constables want, not him, not really. IA was my idea. It’s my responsibility.

It was supposed to be me.

It was supposed to be me, but it’s Will.

Will is alive, but he’s suffering.

Will is alive, but he’s suffering.

Will is alive.

They wanted me, but they got Will. And Will is still alive.

The thought repeats, an agonizing chorus, messy and disorganized, confused and stuttering. Will is alive, but he might not be soon.

Will is there, alive.

But they want me.

I’d do anything to find you.

Promise?

Promise.

Geoff was the one who taught me to shoot. Where, exactly, he picked up his astonishing and unnerving myriad of unrelated but useful skills, I’m not sure. Not that it matters—I’m grateful no matter where he learned to stitch wounds, shoot a bow, cook decently, pick locks, navigate everywhere he goes like he’s been there before, and do everything else he can do.

This particular skill, I don’t use often—I think Geoff used to hunt more for food, but we haven’t needed to since IA, since we’ve actually had money. Mostly, it was a nice excuse in the early days to sneak off into the woods together. He was a good teacher, patient if a little terse, and having him stand next to or behind me—laying his hands on my arms or shoulders to coax me into the right position—never quite lost its thrill.

If he knew what I was doing, he would be furious, but he isn’t going to find out.

Will would find this whole scene hilarious. “Really? That’s what you’re planning? Could you make it any more dramatic?” I can imagine the way he’d mime me pulling back the bowstring and imitate the sound of an arrow whooshing through the air.

He’d find it funny, that is, if he were here. If I weren’t doing this for him. To get him out.

Geoff may have been a good teacher, but my skills aren’t quite strong enough to hit a target from this distance, especially with twilight falling quickly. Fortunately, I’m not trying to hit a target. I just need to get a message from out here to in there.

I’d love to just send an arrow straight through one of their fucking windows, but I have no idea whose office is where. And this message is for one person in particular: Constable Baden Hatchett.

Shift change is usually quick, no pomp, no fuss. One of the higher-ups stalks past the new guard shortly after…to make sure everything’s in order, or that the bastards are standing up straight, or that their shoes are shiny enough, or whatever it is you’re supposed to care about when you wear the constabulary uniform.

And when Hatchett walks by…

It’s hard to wait, of course, but I remain still, curled in the fork of a tree towering a healthy distance from the prison walls. Nobody, not even Colette, could make the jump from here into the jail yard. I’m not trying to get inside, though.

String secures a single note tightly to the arrow shaft. It’s going to fuck up the balance, I guess, but such is the risk. As long as it gets close enough to Hatchett for him to notice, I don’t care if it’s an impressive shot.

Darkness gathers ever faster, and I know the shift change will be soon. This time of year, when the sun sets early, they switch just before the light disappears completely. Then, I will simply need to wait for Hatchett to make his rounds.

What few birds remain through the autumn grow quiet, only occasional chirps and calls breaking through the gloom. Though I try to concentrate on other things, my heart is racing.

Me and Geoff’s bow, we are the same—strung tightly enough to hurt.

Maybe I’m making a mistake. In fact, I probably am. In our family, it’s not usually me making the severe errors in judgment. That’s Will’s territory, and I’m usually the one cleaning up his mess.

But tonight it’s my turn.

Noise cuts through the air: calls and laughter, relatively quiet and deceptively innocent, as the guards perform their switches.

The countdown begins.

When the man appears, the one I’m waiting for, my vision goes white for an instant. Pure, blind rage.

He arrested my brother.

He hurt my brother.

I’ve never seen his face up close, but I suppose I will soon enough.

Two things nearly stay my hand. My inner circle, of course, but mostly Geoff—how angry he will be if Hatchett accepts my terms. The other, weaker and yet still powerful and sharp in my chest, is worry for a different group. If I am dead, will IA continue without me? If it doesn’t—and I wouldn’t blame the others if they decided to disband entirely—what will become of all the people we’ve helped over the years? Will others rise to take our place, or will they be too fearful once they learn of my fate? Will the days of stealing from the rich and giving care packages to those in need be done for good?

Undeterred by these worries, I touch the arrowhead to my lips, an unconscious wish of good luck, a wordless command to fly straight and true. These are my last moments to change my mind. Once I fire, I am shackled by a promise.

And once I make a promise, I am honour-bound to keep it.

It’s unwise to stay still and try to read his face from this distance; I must rely on my imagination to fill in what I cannot discern. I hope his expression is startled, perhaps slightly fearful, but intrigued, as he reads my message and what I offer in exchange for Will’s freedom.

Geoff is pissed off when I return. “Where were you?”

“I needed to walk.”

I stashed the bow and quiver before I came inside, and by some stroke of good luck, he hasn’t noticed it’s gone. It’s dark enough in the old cabin that I’m probably safe until morning, when I can sneak it back inside to its home in the corner.

“Thought you were done with that, Wolf.”

The hurt in his voice slices into me. “I know.” I don’t want to fight. Tonight, of all nights, I don’t want to become mired in a conflict I might never get to resolve. Or say something I might die regretting. “I’m sorry.”

He’s looking at me with worry and even suspicion. Something—I have to say something. “I think Will’s alive.”

I still don’t know if bringing it up is the right choice, but it’s too late now. I don’t want to tell him about the flogging—don’t want to put those pictures in his head. But I need to give him some kind of reason for my twilight wandering.

He blinks. Blanches, even. “Why d’you think that?”

“No executions since that first one.” I swallow. I hate keeping things from him.

Silence. Uncomfortable. Sickly.

“He must be so scared,” I say. I see Geoff’s mouth open like he’s about to speak, too, but I keep going. “I would be, if I—if it—” Fuck, fuck, I’m going to lose control again. “He’s alone in there. He probably thinks—thinks that—”

He thinks I’ve given up on him.

“And you know what he’s like.” A headache blooms and attacks immediately, wasting no time with any slowly intensifying nonsense. Instant. Violent. “He runs his mouth, he doesn’t think, he’s a complete asshole on a good day. When he’s upset…”

Sure bled a lot. Yeah, saw him fall.

“I don’t know if I can do it, Geoff.” Any more and I will tell him what I’ve done. I bite my tongue. The coppery tang of blood fills my mouth. “I can’t watch him die.”

His anger fades. “You don’t have to. No one would…”

The implication, filthy and shameful: he’d understand if I didn’t go. If I weren’t present for my brother’s unfair, unjust, untimely execution.

You don’t have to, he says. With any luck, I won’t have to. “Don’t say that, Geoff. You know I couldn’t…”

I let the unsaid words hang between us.

Geoff pulls me toward our meagre pile of blankets. There’s no bed in here—it’s set up as a resting spot for hunters, usually groups who just camp on the floor with bedrolls. “Wolf.”

Tonight, I flinch at the name. It’s wrong. It’s cursed.

“Just…” My next words might be the ones to give me away. “Can you just…” I can’t stop myself. “Geoff. Please.”

He knows. He always does. How is it that, no matter where or when, he always knows what I need? What everyone else needs? “Jamie.”

Finally.

“You would actually go, right?” I’m trying so hard not to lose it. “I can’t leave Will, I can’t, not really.” Leaving the house was one thing. Leaving town is another. “But if it was me, or if something happened, you would go.”

It isn’t a question. It cannot be a question.

“It’s different for me and him,” I say. “He’s my brother, my family, I have to—I have to at least be here. But Geoff, promise, fucking promise me you’d leave and never come back.”

Geoff wraps his arms around me, presses his face against my neck, the unkempt, wiry hairs of his beard digging into my skin, a sublime sort of torment, innocent yet lethal. “Jamie.”

His grip tightens, and mine does, too.

“You are my family.”

And I’m done, I’m wrecked. Again. After weeks of teetering on the edge and feeling helpless… Now I’ve finally done something and Geoff said my name and IA is all he has and I am all he has and—

I’m going to abandon him.

Geoff was once a secret I couldn’t tell a single soul—not just the way he made me feel, that day and every day since, but the twist of fate that brought us together that even Will doesn’t know about.

Now he is the one I am keeping secrets from.

Constable Hatchett,

If you want IA, then you want me. If the man you arrested goes free, unharmed, I will turn myself in, and Iustitia aecum will be no more.

Your move.

J. W.

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Tagging: @starlit-hopes-and-dreams, @gala1981, @kixngiggles .

[Banner ID: A narrow horizontal, rectangular banner featuring a barred archway. The bars and the stone walls evoke the feeling of a dungeon or prison. There are burning candles on either side of the archway. The title of the story, The Prince of Thieves, appears in white text in the centre of the image. The author's username, abbreviated to LPS from littleperilstories, appears in the bottom right corner in partially transparent text. End ID.]

[lovelyfanatical]

I Get a Sugar Rush Whenever I'm With You - Chapter 6.2

Happy Friday fellow Drukkari stans, or whatever day it is for you! I come bearing the next mini-chapter! If you missed any prior installments, you can find all of them on my new table of contents here. Previously, Druig and Makkari got to have an extra fluffy baking session, but can the sweetness last? Find out now in the next installment of Drukkari in the Great British Bake Off!

Druig was riding high into the weekend, even if he’d been dreading this particular week since he’d found out what it was. He’d never been much for dieting, as he didn’t see the point of limiting what he ate if he didn’t have to, so an entire week based around cutting out certain ingredients seemed rather daunting. Nevertheless, he’d been in a noticeably better mood ever since his afternoon with Makkari. She hadn’t stayed too long after they finished baking (and eating half the éclairs they’d just made). She’d helped him clean up a bit, packed up the rest of the éclairs, and given him a hug goodbye. He wouldn’t quite call it a date. They were just two friends baking and hanging out. In secret. Even so, he’d enjoyed it immensely, and it seemed like Makkari had as well.

They greeted each other as usual outside the hotel, and Druig couldn’t say for sure, but it felt like something in the air had changed between them. Standing with their friends, it felt like Makkari stayed closer to him than usual. That said, she always stood close enough to bump shoulders with him or reach over and punch his arm if he provoked such a response. Today, however, Makkari didn’t do either of those things. She just stood by him, occasionally chiming into the conversation, and while she didn’t turn her head, Druig thought he’d seen her glancing at him from the corner of her eye, a smile playing at her lips. It was a wonder she could keep up with the conversation at all, as he’d stopped listening almost as soon as he noticed her looking. When he finally tuned back into the group, he saw Ajak eyeing them, one eyebrow beginning to rise. Druig looked away as calmly and casually as he could.

Like he had during weeks prior, Druig held onto that happy feeling as the day progressed. The first challenge wasn’t too bad, but it definitely could’ve gone better. Now that he’d made ice cream during a technical, making it during a signature didn’t seem quite as stressful, even if it was dairy-free. That said, he’d also chosen a more basic flavor profile, making things slightly easier for himself. He’d gone with almond milk vanilla ice cream, dipped in chocolate with a hint of chili. The judges found it simple but effective, though Arishem had also added that he found it a bit underwhelming after last week’s performance. It certainly wasn’t his most glowing review, but Druig found that his wasn’t the opinion he most cared about.

The good thing about the chocolate dip was that he’d been able to save one for Makkari, much to her delight. She happily ate it, remarking, Sorry, I wish I could’ve save one of mine for you.

While Druig was quite curious about hers (Makkari had made mango ice cream topped with chili powder), he’d only replied, Guess you’ll just have to make it again for me sometime.

She gave him an amused look, but before she could respond, Kingo came trotting over, Phastos trudging along behind him.

“It’s days like this that I’m glad I don’t have to do the baking anymore,” Kingo said.

“Spoken like someone who doesn’t have a lactose intolerant child with a sweet tooth,” Phastos replied. Despite being a busy engineer, husband, and father, he’d picked up BSL quite quickly and had already started signing along where he could.

You really don’t miss competing? Makkari asked Kingo.

“I mean, I do. It was a really great experience, but sometimes, it really is more fun to just watch,” Kingo responded.

“No offense, Kingo, but the behind-the-scenes stuff seems to suit you better than being in front of the camera,” Druig added. Kingo’s mouth fell open at the remark.

“Was that an actual back-handed compliment?” he asked.

“You’re actually touched by that?” Phastos asked, visibly confused.

“I’m pretty sure that’s as close as Druig’s ever gotten to complimenting me, so I’ll take it,” Kingo explained matter-of-factly.

“Who’s handing out compliments?” Sersi called over as she and Ajak approached the table.

“Druig said I was doing a good job!” Kingo answered excitedly.

“I also said you weren’t good in front of a camera,” Druig corrected.

“Well, that makes more sense,” Sersi said as she sat down.

“At least he said something nice,” Ajak added. “It’s good to change things up sometimes. Although, I don’t think I’ll be making dairy-free ice cream again any time soon.”

A few of them groaned in agreement (including Kingo, though Makkari threw a crouton at him in retaliation, much to Druig’s amusement). Ajak hadn’t gone for anything too complicated, but her chocolate ice cream hadn’t quite set, making for quite the mess when it came time for judgment. The others had done alright, but Druig could sense that none of them were looking forward to the next two challenges.

One person who hadn’t struggled at all, however, was Sprite, whose avocado ice cream had only garnered praise. As she and Gilgamesh neared the table, completing the party, they started applauding. She paused to roll her eyes but gave them a playful bow before she took her seat and accepted the onslaught of compliments.

“Well, I did have the advantage. I’ve been vegan since I was 12,” Sprite said.

“So last month?” Gilgamesh teased, which earned him a few chuckles, but Sprite was not amused.

“I’m sure you get this all the time, but one day, you’ll be glad you look young for your age,” Ajak tried to reassure.

“You’re right, I do get that all the time,” Sprite replied wryly.

If you do well on the technical, do you think your mom will let you come to dinner with us? Makkari asked.

“Tell her we may seem like grown-ups, but we’re really just a bunch of oversized kids,” Gilgamesh added. “And we promise not to be bad influences!”

“Oh, I don’t actually need her permission. I just didn’t want to hang out with a bunch of adults twice my age and above,” Sprite replied, grinning snarkily. Several members of the group voiced their discontent at this statement, but she cut them off, saying, “I’m kidding! I already asked her, and she said I could make an appearance.”

“What about you, Phastos?” Ajak asked.

“We’ll see. Jack likes me to Facetime him before he goes to bed,” Phastos explained.

One of these days, we’ll get you to dinner, Makkari signed, a playful look in her eye.

“Assuming I make it through this week!” he lamented. No matter how well he did, Phastos always seemed to think he was one mistake away from elimination.

“Well, considering you got Arishem to enjoy peanut butter ice cream, I’d say you make it to next week,” Druig interjected.

“Again, with the almost compliments!” Kingo remarked. “Next thing you know, he’ll start being nice to people not named Makkari!”

This time, Makkari handed Druig the crouton. It hit Kingo right in the forehead, drawing plenty of laughter from most of the table, a light scolding from Ajak, and another eye-roll from Sprite as she muttered something about being more mature than most of her fellow competitors.

-

I may not agree with her actions, but as someone who's always looked young for their age, I can relate to Sprite 😆 Likes, comments, and re-blogs would be much appreciated!

Part 20

[lesbianwriter]

Hi, I really love your writing! I barely see any wlw in general so it’s much appreciated <3

Could you possibly make a short where a straight hero/villain tries to seduce a nmlnm villainess/heroine?

(Bonus: The straight hero/villain has a closeted nmlnm sidekick that the villainess/heroine seduces)

I vividly remember that one day I read a wlw story and realized that it was the second wlw thing I had seen after months. Also I’m sorry but this didn’t end up short at all 🥲

———

The bar teemed with people. Classy people. People who wore pearls, diamonds, and suits. Villain was far from one of those people, but she did a convincing job of blending in, sitting at the bar and nursing a pale, bubbly little drink in a crystal glass and wearing a tight but elegant dress that she’d stolen for her disguise.

“You polish up nicely.” A familiar voice drawled, the sound not dissimilar to nails on a chalkboard. The grating voice was sound of an annoying man-child who didn’t quite grasp the concept of a woman not leaping into his bed the moment he flashed a smile.

Taking a small sip of her drink, Villain kept her eyes facing forward. “Do I know you?”

“Aw, come on, Villain. Let’s stop playing hard to get and have a little fun…it’s not like anybody would blame us. Two attractive enemies, one bed. Passion that you’ll remember your entire life…” He brushed his fingers on her leg, and it took every ounce of Villain’s power not to impale his foot with her heel.

A few people turned to glance, their perfectly curated glass bubble threatened, and though she didn’t care about ruining their “precious” night, she couldn’t afford to fail her mission.

Not with Supervillain’s orders on her shoulders.

Villain offered a tight smile and lowered her voice. “If you don’t get your hands off me now then I will make sure you have scars that you’ll remember your entire life.”

“C’mon, I was playing with you.” Hero leveled her with a softer look, a smirk on his lips still. “You don’t have to be such a prude. Us making love isn’t the worst way this night could end.”

Her eyes flitted back to the menagerie of finely dressed people, meticulously searching for that one person, but as she carefully scanned every face, it came to her like a punch to the gut to realize he wasn’t there…her target was gone. Gone!

As aloofly as possible, she unstrained her tense muscles, melting into a convincing act of composure even as her heart sank.

“I need to go to the bathroom.” She announced, standing up from her seat.

“Are we doing it there?” Hero raised his brows, grinning. “I’ve done it worse places~”

Something snapped. “I’m not interested, Hero. Stop it.” She wrapped her arms a little tighter over her chest, protectively.

“I thought you were into it.”

“How in the world do you think that?!” She snapped back, her tone like whiplash. His eyes widened, clearly unused to being rejected, and her anger only boiled more.

She wanted more than anything to pour the rest of her drink over his head, but she had to keep some level of decorum given her surroundings.

Rich people kept their issues behind curtains.

She walked off with what scraps of composure she had remaining, leaving him alone to stare in shock.

—

—

Sidekick missed something.

She knew she did because when she got back, she saw an empty chair where Villain once was and Hero with a dumbstruck look on his face.

“Hero?” Sidekick approached. “What happened? You’re supposed to be stalling Villain…why isn’t she here?”

“She really isn’t into me.” Hero blinked up at Sidekick. “I mean, she really isn’t into me. I thought it was a banter thing between us.”

“No, those were just insults.” Sidekick looked around the room.

Naturally, Hero had opposed the idea that a woman could possibly resist his charms. To someone who’d been born perfect and grown up as beautiful as he was even the implication that there was something he couldn’t have must’ve been both outlandish and terrifying. Sidekick had told him that Villain wasn’t interested, but he’d brushed her off with his self-confident smile and insisted that everybody was interested in him.

Sidekick didn’t feel like coddling his bruised ego, though. That would be more work than the actual task at hand.

“Where did Villain go?”

“She walked off that way.” Hero pointed.

Truthfully, Sidekick didn’t like Hero that much either. But she had to pretend that she did. Pretending was easier. She had to pretend that she didn’t look at Villain’s lips and wonder what would happen if…

No.

Focus on the mission.

She followed the direction that Hero pointed her down, weaving through crowds of people, searching for one face. Guiltily wanting to see her not for the sake of the mission, but instead to look at her. Soak her in for a millisecond too long before she forced herself to forget.

Then, a pair of hands grabbed her wrist.

“I need your help real quick.”

“What?” Sidekick questioned, already being swept away onto the dance floor. Clumsily, she held onto Villain’s shoulders as her balance shifted, and she flushed at the feeling of Villain’s hands on her waist.

“I need to blend in.” Villain whispered, notching her head to a guy near the center of the floor.

Couples slow-danced all around them. Sidekick’s face felt so hot that she could’ve cooked an egg on it.

This was the closest she’d ever been to Villain. Hero was the one that normally got up close, but now she was the one doing it…she was the one feeling Villain’s hands on her body and being so close that if she moved just a fraction closer…

“Are you okay?” Villain whispered.

“I—I’m…I can’t let you get to your target.” Sidekick swallowed. It was still a job. She couldn’t get swept away by feelings—feelings she couldn’t express, anyhow.

“Is that the only thing you’re thinking?”

“…no, but it doesn’t matter!” She whispered urgently, only loud enough so the two of them could hear the other. “I’m not letting you get away with this because you have a pretty face.”

She knew she wasn’t allowed to want something so bad…but her emotions tangled until she couldn’t find the silver lining of professionalism. She wanted Villain. She longed to know what her lips would feel like on her own, she wanted to feel her and know her.

Everything she wasn’t meant to want clouded her mind.

“You think I’m pretty?” Villain smiled. Her own cheeks tinged pink. She swayed smoothly, falling perfectly in step with the music while Sidekick stumbled to keep up. “I’m flattered.”

“Really? You aren’t going to do to me whatever you did to Hero?”

Sidekick stole a glance back towards where Hero was sitting. His back was turned. He wasn’t even paying attention to the mission…but Sidekick wasn’t that surprised.

“There’s a difference. You, dear Sidekick, aren’t a man. You don’t harass me.” They spun, and Villain didn’t lose her footing once even as her eyes stayed focused on Sidekick.

Embarrassed, Sidekick kept her eyes low, focusing on the small gap where their bodies weren’t touching. “You shouldn’t have picked me for dancing…” Her murmur was low. Nobody else could’ve possibly heard it over the music.

“You should join me.” Villain offered. “We could do so many wonderful things together.” Her hands moved up to Sidekick’s lower back, and she shivered at the contact.

Then, she pulled away, the two of them passed off to the next partner to dance with.

[drabbles-mc]

Keeping Tabs

Sam Wilson x OFC

Prompt: "Anytime you wanna stop by the VA and make me look awesome in front of the girl at the front desk, just let me know."

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: Okay so I truuuuuly can't remember the last time I wrote fic for the MCU. So take it easy on me haha. This is also my first fic for Sam! I was rewatching CAWS last night and when I heard him say that line at the beginning my mind instantly took off without me so here we are! Just a quick, fun little thing to get back into the Marvel swing of things.

MCU Taglist: @garbinge @winchestershiresauce (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

She’d been so busy updating the appointment log that she hadn’t even felt the curls that had fallen forward in front of her shoulders let alone heard him walk up to the front desk. Steve could see the intense focus on her face, and he cracked a small smile at it. He felt a little bad interrupting her.

Her eyes snapped up when she heard him clear his throat, growing wide when she saw who was standing on the other side of the desk giving her one of the most charming smiles she’d ever seen. He was still just as pretty even with the fading bruises on his face. “Sorry,” Steve said, “don’t mean to interrupt. I’m looking for someone.”

She nodded, scrambling to get her desk in order as though Captain America was visiting with the intention of running an inspection on her work station. “Y-yes. Yea. Um, sorry, who—who are you looking for?” She finally got herself situated, fingers at the ready above her keyboard so she could look up whoever it was that he said.

“What’s your name?” he asked with another smile.

She wished that it did anything to calm her down at all. “Annalee—you can call me Annie.”

“Hi, Annie.” He held his hand out for her to shake. “I’m Steve.”

“Yea,” she laughed as she shook his hand, sounding a little surer of herself now that the initial shock of it all was starting to wear off, “I know.”

He chuckled, nodding. “Right.”

“You said you were looking for someone?”

“Yea. Sam Wilson?”

Her face brightened up immediately. “Oh! Sam. Yea, hold on one second.”

She reached for the phone on her desk and dialed the number without having to look it up. She flashed Steve a smile as she held the receiver to her ear and waited for Sam to pick up on the other end of the line. Steve saw the way that she was tapping the end of her pen against the desk while she waited for Sam to answer. He leaned slightly against the front desk.

“Sam, hey,” she said when he answered the phone. “I’m good, I’m good. I’ve actually,” she chuckled, “I’ve got a visitor down here looking for you. You got a minute?” She paused for a second before she gave Steve a reassuring nod. “Great, we’ll be here. See you in a sec.” When she hung up the phone, she looked back over at Steve. “He’s on his way.”

“Thank you,” Steve said with a nod.

There was a quiet moment between them before she asked, “So, what does Captain America need to pay Sam a visit for?”

Steve chuckled at the way she phrased it. He shook his head, seeming so nonchalant. “I ran into him a few days ago. Just had a couple things I wanted to talk to him about.”

She had already been a little more curious about Sam than she cared to admit. The reasons for her curiosity before this had nothing to do with Captain America and everything to do with how Sam looked when he smiled and reached over the front desk to borrow pens from her. This was another interesting layer, though, one that she couldn’t pretend didn’t pique her interest. She didn’t hide it well but she wasn’t quite sure that she cared. “Oh really?”

He could see the way that she wanted to ask for more but was trying to hold herself back. Steve tried to play a little dumb and keep his amused expression under control. “Yea, he mentioned—”

“Hey, man,” Sam said, inadvertently cutting off their conversation as he half-jogged up to the front desk. “Everything alright?”

“Sam, hey, yea.” He reached and shook his hand for a moment before continuing. “I was just wondering if I could talk to you for a minute.”

Sam was trying to get a read on Steve’s face, his body language. No matter what it was, it wasn’t as though there was ever going to be a time when he didn’t make time for Captain America. He realized how long he’d been standing there saying nothing, and quickly recovered. “Yea,” he motioned for Steve to follow him, “I got an office just up the stairs.”

Steve nodded, still not looking bothered by much. “Great.” He turned back to the woman behind the desk, who was very intently watching the interaction between the two men on the other side of her desk. “Nice meeting you, Annie.”

She smiled. “You too, Steve.”

When the two of them reached Sam’s office, he shut the door behind them. “You know,” he said with a chuckle, “I only half meant it when I said the thing about the girl at the front desk.”

Steve smiled knowingly. “Figured it couldn’t hurt, but it doesn’t really seem like you need my help.” He paused, watching for Sam’s reaction. “She seems nice.”

“Annie, yea,” Sam said, his expression softer than he realized, “she’s, she’s cool.” Clearing his throat, he tried to get his composure back. “Anyway, did you actually stop by to talk about something? Or were you just trying to be my wingman?”

Steve laughed. “Little of both, actually.”

Annie heard them coming back down towards her front desk before she saw them. She couldn’t even try to venture a guess as to what the two of them had been talking about while they were up in Sam’s office. However, whatever the conversation had been, they were laughing between themselves now.

She looked down at the screen of her computer in a vain effort to not seem like she was listening and watching for them. It wasn’t until they got much closer to her desk that she looked up, flashing a warm smile at the both of them. She listened as the two of them said goodbye to each other, vague promises to get in touch soon about whatever it was that they had been talking about.

“Offer still stands,” Sam said as he shook Steve’s hand, “if you ever want to come to my group. We’d be more than happy to have you.”

Steve nodded, a polite smile on his face. “I’ll think about it.” He turned and faced Annie, smile still in place. “Thank you for your help, Annie.”

“If you ever need to track Sam down,” she said with a soft laugh, “I’m your girl.”

Steve’s eyebrows lifted slightly as he looked back and forth between the two of them. “Good to know.” He said one last quick goodbye to each of them before turning and heading for the door.

Sam lingered by the desk until Steve had completely exited the building. Once the door shut behind him, he leaned onto the desk, peering over the edge of it more dramatically than necessary as he looked at Annie and waited for her to look back at him instead of where Steve had just walked out.

“So, you’re his girl, huh?” Sam joked.

Annie rolled her eyes as she propped her elbows on the edge of her desk. Resting her chin on top of her interlocked fingers, she asked, “What, feeling a little jealous, Sam?”

He laughed, shaking his head like it was a ridiculous notion despite the fact that his face was heating up. “I know he’s Captain America and all, I just thought that we had something special.”

She arched one eyebrow. “Oh, did you?”

“You don’t?” He acted far more offended than he really was.

“Don’t worry, Sam,” she shook her head as the phone started to ring, “you’re still my favorite.” Reaching for the phone, she shot him one more smile. “Doesn’t matter how many super soldiers come through here.”

He was almost thankful that she had to answer the phone, because his mind was completely devoid of any coherent thoughts, let alone something that would make him sound as smooth as he wanted to come off. He forced himself to move, making his way back towards the stairs that led to his office. He could hear the sounds of various murmured conversations across the floor and on the staircase, but the only thing that he was really trying to tune into was the sound of Annie’s voice as she put the person on the phone in touch with whoever they had been calling for.

When Sam was coming back down the stairs at the end of the day, he was immediately looking over to see if Annie was still behind the desk or if she had already taken off for the night. He picked up his pace a little bit when he saw that she was grabbing her purse and her coat as she got ready to leave.

Just as she was stepping out from behind the desk, Sam popped up. She almost ran into him, not looking up as she fished around her purse for her keys. She let out a small laugh as she pushed her hair back out of her face.

“Hey.” She spotted the keys in his hand. “You taking off too?”

He nodded. “Yea.” He gestured and they both started walking towards the door. “You parked far? I can walk with you.” He saw the way a grin stretched across her face and he let out a laugh that he hoped didn’t convey the small shot of nervousness that went through him. “What?”

“No, no,” she adjusted her purse strap on her shoulder, “nothing. I’d,” she looked at him, giant grin still on her face, “I’d like that.”

Relief went through him. “Alright,” he held open the door for her, “lead the way, then.”

The two of them made small talk as they walked towards the lot where Annie’s car was parked. They chatted in broad strokes about their day, about whatever news they’d heard floating around the VA. When they hit a natural lull in the conversation, Annie figured there wasn’t going to be a better time to try and satiate her curiosity.

“So, can I ask what business you have with Captain America?” She chuckled. “Or is that classified?”

Sam laughed—if she only knew the half of it all. He looked over at her and gave a shake of his head, trying to play it all off to be a much smaller deal than any of it really was. “He’s just got some stuff going on with an old friend. Wanted some advice.”

“And he came to you?” she said, a joking lilt to her voice.

His scoff turned into a laugh. “Don’t gotta sound so surprised about it.”

She rested her hand on the outside of his arm for a moment. “I’m not! I’m not.”

“Trying to convince me or convince yourself?” he asked, arching one eyebrow.

She laughed, and for a second Sam forgot about all the mess of the weeks before. She leaned, bumping her shoulder against his as they walked. “I’m not trying to convince anyone.” She paused, her expression sobering up a bit. “Steve, all those people who come to your groups, they need someone in their corner. They’re lucky to have you.” She paused again and waited for him to look over at her. “I mean it.”

Sam nodded, not quite comfortable with the feeling of praise but he wasn’t totally adverse to it either. It was hard to shy away from it when she seemed so genuine about it. It was hard to shy away from it when really, she was someone that he hoped had a few good thoughts about him every now and then.

“Thank you,” he finally managed, with more effort than it should’ve taken.

Annie saw the entire internal conflict go across his facial features in real time. Rather than piling onto it, she spun her keys around her finger and said, “Thank you for walking me to my car.” She hit the unlock button and the car’s headlights flashed once.

“Anytime you want company, come track me down. You know,” he smirked, “since that’s apparently your thing now.”

“Psh,” she laughed as she walked to the driver’s door of her car, “it’s always been my thing.”

“Keeping tabs on me?” he asked with a smile.

She pulled the car door open, “Trying to, at least.”

“You think that maybe,” he leaned against the opposite side of her car, “giving me your number might make that a little easier?”

She braced herself against her car the same way that he was, mirroring him with a grin. “Really think I’d be doing myself a favor with that?”

“Can’t make things worse, right?”

She laughed. “Thrilling endorsement. How am I supposed to say no?” She held her hand out. “Toss me your phone.”

Any attempt to seem collected and cool about it flew out the window. Sam immediately reached into his pocket and tossed his cell phone over to her so she could put her number in. There was a grin tugging at her lips as she added herself to his contacts. She tossed the phone back to him, trying not to laugh when he almost dropped it completely.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” she asked when he recovered.

He nodded. “That’s the plan.” He lightly tapped on the frame of her car. “Get home safe.”

“You too,” she said with a smile before finally sliding into the driver’s seat.

Sam turned and started to walk back in the direction where his car was parked. He didn’t even make it to the end of the block before pulling his phone back out and scrolling to find Annie’s name in his contacts.

He typed out a message and hit send before he could talk himself out of it. “Hey, it’s Sam”

He’d hardly put the phone back away when it chimed with a response. Checking the notification, he couldn’t help but to laugh and shake his head. “Took you long enough”

[mixes-archive]

I just saw your recent post, and you said you wish people would request other characters, especially fem characters, so it’s my time to shine🤩. I would like to request a NSFW fic with "Kleo" from COD; she’s an operator. I don’t have any specific ideas for the plot, so you can go crazy! I really wish people would write for her more.

Kleo x fem! Reader NSFW

Tags: p with a little bit of plot, mild angst with lots of fluff, making out, miss girl is unable to keep her hands to herself, fingering and oral (both reader receiving) and breastplay

Dear Gods I need this woman I need her I NEED HER TO CALL ME HER LITTLE PRINCESS AND RUIN ME WOOF WOOF GRRRR BARK WO-

I hope you enjoy :)

Summary: Your home felt emptier without her, no matter how many pictures of you together decorated the walls or how much exorbitant furniture filled every room. Dancing makes you feel just a little less alone, or maybe that’s just the shadowy figure watching your performance?

It was always quite lonely without Kleo around. Of course, she’d warned you about this multiple times before getting into a serious relationship with you, but you hadn’t thought much about it back then.

It didn’t make you think less of her, not at all! But you just wish she’d be here a bit more. Of course, when she did get time off, it would almost always be a few days at least, which you always made sure to keep free.

But it had been two months. No visits, no calls, no texts. Just a monthly check, making sure you didn’t have to bear the burden of bills alone.

You were scared to check your mail now. Every time a call came in, you were scared this would be the one. Some of your older neighbors had talked about it once they found out about Kleos job, warning you of the heartbreak that came with it.

,We’re sorry miss, but unfortunately Kleo…‘

No. You couldn’t bear to think about it. By now you should know not to underestimate your girlfriend like that. Still, you needed something to drown those thoughts out.

Where most would’ve reached for alcohol or drugs, you reached for an old, beat up and sticker covered iPod. Kleo had gifted it to you on your first birthday together, you still have it after all these years.

Memories of her teaching you how to put music on that damn thing made you giggle as you connected it to the speakers in the living room. They were massive and yet another gift of hers. This one she gave you because ,she felt like it‘.

Everything just reminded you of her. Even the music.

You played a song you danced to together at one of her many family gatherings. It was slow, and now that you’re actually listening to the lyrics, also a bit sad. How ironic.

Yet you found yourself getting lost in it. Closings your eyes and rhythmically spinning to the music, magically avoiding every piece of furniture that could stand in your way. You had the steps memorized, 1-2-3, 1-2-3, 1-2-3-4, back and forth and back and forth.

You could almost see her dark, curly hair bouncing with every step or how her bright green eyes attentively followed your every move.

Around halfway through the song, tears started to form in your eyes.

Around the end, when the orchestra was dying down and the vocals repeated, until they slowly melted away along the rest of the melody, a pair of arms wrapped around you. Ones your knew all too well.

„Amazing performance, κούκλα“

„I thought you were dead.“

Kleo wrapped her arms around you, her abnormally tall stature leading to your head falling into her neck. She kissed your temple.

„But I’m not. Let’s dance a bit, yeah?“ It was an order more than a question, her hands weaving into yours while spinning you around to face her.

Had she not looked so exhausted, you would’ve likely forced her to talk about what happened. But those bags under her eyes and the fresh scars on her Face told you all you needed to know: ‚I physically can’t talk about it right now.‘

Along with the next song, you both swayed and span, bumping into significantly more furniture than you did on your solo performance. It made you both giggle every time.

Not many words were exchanged during the whole ordeal, not even when her hands dipped to your hips and lower back. Kleo tended to get a bit… touchy whenever she returned from missions.

It was nice. To have her warmth back after all this time had finally stopped your racing brain and intrusive thoughts. You were the first to stop dancing, choosing to embrace her instead. The laugh she let out at that made her chest rumble, and yours with it.

It didn’t catch you off guard when her hands moved to your ass, slowly massaging the soft flesh between her calloused fingers.

„God I missed this.“ She let out a dramatic sigh and let herself fall onto the couch, taking you down with her.

„So you do only love me for my ass! How superficial of you! And here I thought you liked me for my charming personality…“

„Shut up and kiss me you goofball.“

You did just that and gods… did it feel right. That missing piece was finally back. Your house finally felt like home again.

Her lips were just as soft as you’d remembered. She must’ve taken your complaints to heart last time she came back with cracked lips and actually continued to use the chapstick you always had to replaced for her.

She licked at yours lips. „Cherry?“, she asked. „A bit cliché, don’t you think?“

„I know it’s your favorite so shut up.“

To hear her laugh again, so unbothered and loud as always made your stomach fuzzy, or maybe that could’ve also been her hands on your thighs.

Kleos strength always shocked you, especially when she flipped you over without any type of warning. Her arms trapped your head beneath hers.

„Hey there gorgeous!“

„Do that again and I just might die of a heart attack.“

„Oww nwooo, want mwe two kwiss it betta?“ She mocked you, but you didn’t have the strength in you to send a snide remark back. The look she was giving you told you that one, you should shut up, and two, that you either back out now or get fucked so hard you can’t walk even after she returns from her next mission.

You weren’t a pussy, so you smashed your lips into hers. Immediately, she returned the kiss with just as much force. Kleo pried your lips apart with her tounge and you gladly let her in.

Just as you really started to get into it, she pulled away. A string of saliva connected you together for a second more, until it broke.

Her hands reached down to your shirt, carefully unbuttoning it.

„No bra? What a nice surprise.“

„Wasn’t really much of a point in wearing one if there isn’t anyone around to protect them from.“

„How rude. I always treat you boobs with utmost respect.“

Your mention of how she tended to do the exact opposite was cut short by a breathy sigh. Her lips connected to your nipple and suddenly you realized that sexual gratification of any kind other than this would take another eternity to achieve.

Once she sucked on your nipples, it would be impossible to get her off. You were almost convinced she thought that milk would come out of them if she tried hard enough.

Despite your complaints, she was damn good at playing with your breasts. Harshly biting, then softly licking over your tender flesh. Neither of you could ever get enough of it.

Soft moans left your mouth as her tounge rediscovered your chest. You had been deprived of this sensation for so long, it made it feel all the more intense. Your hands could never even hope to compare to the gentle way she licked around your areola, only to then aggressively attacked your nipple with sucks and bites. The other was always treated just as well with her hand, massaged and fondled with in ways that had you seeing stars.

It hadn’t been that long, yet you were already melted into the cushions below you, unable to let out anything other than „I love you“s and garbled versions of her name. Kleo could come from the look on your face alone, begging her for more as she slowly let go of your breasts.

„Let’s move to the bed, yeah? Makes for easier cleanup.“

The wet blanket of a human that was you got picked up by her strong arms. She carried you upstairs and gently dropped you onto the bed without breaking as much as a drop of sweat.

Almost teasingly slow, Kleo removed all your clothes down to your panties, only pausing briefly when she realized they were one of her pairs. A smirk made it’s way to her face as she, even slower than before, removed the last bit of cloth on you.

„I’d say you missed me.“

„You really think I’d miss you?“

„Would be a bit weird of you to soil my underwear if you didn’t atleast somewhat like me.“

Even if you had a response to that, your need for some kind of physical attention was absolutely killing you. You grabbed one of her hands and put them on your body, signaling to her that she should shut up and get on with it. But alas, she was still a tease to the core.

„Be a good girl and tell me how much you missed me.“ Lord knows you would’ve smacked that grin off her if you could, but you had long melted into her unmoving hand. Left with no choice, you followed her orders.

„I thought of you every day.“ Kleo smirked and started massaging your hips.

„Sometimes, I would wear some of your clothes.“ Her hands moved down lower.

„I had to hug your pillow to sleep well.“ Ever so gently, she was prying apart your thighs.

„I tried, but no matter how big or expensive the toy, I couldn’t get off without you.“ That seemed to do it for her.

Large, calloused hands massaged your thighs, as she moved to be in between them. Her eyes were all over your body, as if studying a map.

„You poor thing“, she cooed. „Didn’t have an orgasm for a whole two months?“ Although her tone was teasing, she truly did feel bad. A whole two months would be absolute torture for her.

„I came to the thought of you squirming under me almost every night. God you made my fingers cramp up so much.“ Her voice was dropping lower and her giggles seemed almost sensual as she moved her head towards your pussy.

„My poor princess, I’ll make it up to you, alright? Just be good and let me hear your pretty little noises.“

Her mouth was on you before you could think and gods did it feel good. Her tongue gently licked at your clit, speed growing with fervor at every moan that slipped past your lips. The unholy slurping noises Kleo made would’ve made you giggle under different circumstances, but your brain had ceased all thoughts.

Occasionally, she would give your clit a break to stuff her tongue into your hole, licking your juices up as if her life depended on it. Every time she pulled out to catch her breath, praises of how good and how loud you were being left her, only to then immediately return to your body to keep those noises going.

Being depraved of touch for so long, you were already close to the edge, but then she added her fingers to fully concentrate her efforts onto sucking your clit.

Her fingers were rough, but your wetness more than made up for it. Effortlessly, she moved them in and out, a loud squelching sound coming with every thrust of her thick fingers into you.

Teeth were on your clit, biting down the tiniest bit, her tongue then immediately following after, gently caressing the small bundle until the only words you could form were „Kleo“ and „more“.

She thrived in your pleasure, looking almost as fucked out as you must’ve. Her eyes were dark and her face sweaty. Still, her relentless pace continued, finally giving you what you had craved for so long.

Your thighs clenched around her head as you felt your orgasm coming, and it made her pace even more brutal than before, fingering you at what should be impossible speeds while sucking on your clit much harder than before.

As it all got too much, you finally let go. Cumming on her eager tongue, she licked every last bit of your essence she could get out of you until you were wiggling away from her.

Kleo held eye contact with you as she licked her fingers clean, a lewd moan leaving both of you.

„Princess, why don’t you come back here? We got another 60 days to make up for.“

[oh-meow-swirls]

Yo-kai Watch 1 But I Rewrote It - Chapter 2

so as i'm sure y'all following me will know by now, i've been rewriting 1 over on ao3. for anyone interested, you can find it here.

to summarize briefly: it's a rewrite of 1 where the main difference is that it's in katie's continuity n she has her yo-kai sensing ability from nyanderful days. also jibanyan moves in with her (though that's irrelevant for now but it's almost relevant).

for those who missed it, here’s chapter 1! i’ll edit this to link chapter 3 once i post it here n eventually make an index with all the links but that might take a bit-

Chapter Summary: Katie never expected to end up wrapped up in the world of Yo-kai to this degree - and yet here she was.

Chapter 2 - The World of Yo-kai

Once the rings of light had faded, and Katie could see without shielding her eyes, she could clearly make out the silhouette - a rather stereotypical white ghost, with purple lips and a wispy tuft on its (their?) head, and a wispy tail.

She blinked a few times. The ghost - a Yo-kai - had floated down to her level as it spoke, but she still couldn’t really believe what was in front of her. This couldn’t be real.

Katie wasn’t doubting the existence of Yo-kai - sure, maybe at least some stuff about them was just fabrications, but at least some of it being real did make sense. But… she’d never seen one quite in this way before. When she saw Yo-kai, she usually just caught a glance and they then disappeared when she tried to look back.

Whisper wasn’t doing that.

She blinked in surprise and he still persisted. What was so different about him? The gachapon machine did have a really strong aura… maybe it was something to do with that? Katie couldn't be sure.

"... what?"

"I'm your Yo-kai butler," Whisper reiterated, "at your service. You released me from that stuffy capsule - I was sealed in it by a priest under the impression I was evil 290 years ago! That's 2,280 months! That's 9,880 weeks! That's…"

Katie tuned Whisper out as he began to extrapolate - how did he remember these conversions so well? Had he been running out through his mind that whole 290 years? By the time he got down to seconds, Katie had to cut him off.

"Umm… Whisper?"

The Yo-kai turned to her. "Yes?"

"Most people can't see Yo-kai, right? So… why can I see you?"

"Ah, that's a very good question! Well, that's because… you see… erm…" Whisper stammered, "… well, I'm not sure myself."

Katie gave him a deadpan stare, standing up and brushing herself off before grabbing her net again. "I'm going back to bug-catching."

Internally, Katie was honestly bursting with excitement at seeing a Yo-kai to this degree… but Whisper's incompetence was too much for her. Maybe she'd come back once he was less disoriented from just being released from a capsule-

"Oh! Why search for boring bugs when you could look for Yo-kai instead?"

That caught Katie's interest. She quickly whirled around to face Whisper. "Look for Yo-kai? How?"

"With this!"

A purple, smokey glow appeared around Katie's neck - when it faded, it was clear as a pink watch on a lanyard. She picked it up in her hand to examine it - there was a slot in the side, and the watch face had various colors on it. Below the face was an odd dial with a pointer on it and a closed eye beneath it.

"This is a Yo-kai Watch," Whisper explained, "it allows humans to see us Yo-kai."

"... how?"

"Well-"

Whisper was cut off by a dinging sound from the watch, the arrow on the dial going all over the place. "Ah! The watch has detected a Yo-kai. I believe it's in that tree over there," he gestured at a tree to the right. Katie did sense an aura from there from what she could tell.

She nodded and headed over. "Err… now what?"

"Press this button here."

With a press of the button, up popped the bubble protecting the watch face. "Oh, the bubble popped up!"

"That's no bubble; it's the Yo-kai Lens," he explained, "you can scan hiding Yo-kai with it. Once you've scanned them long enough, they'll be visible without it, too."

Katie nodded, looking through the bubble at the tree - up top near the leaves, she found a… bird? It had wings like a bird, and a bird neck and small bird head, but the body also had a face. It was dark blue primarily, with a cream body. It tried to get away from her sight, but a few dings from the watch solidified her view of the bird.

Whisper took out a strange looking tablet, scrolling and tapping at it. "This Yo-kai is Buhu. She makes those she inspirits depressed."

"Oh, boohoo, you woke me up," the Yo-kai had a rather deadpan voice, drenched in sadness, "guess I need to fight you now…"

You were already awake, it looked like…

"Alright, Katie!" When did you get my name? "This is when you'll summon your Yo-kai friends to fight."

"Er, Whisper… I don't have any Yo-kai friends."

"That's rather rude to that cicada you caught."

"Wait, so that cicada was a Yo-kai?!"

A glow came from her bag and traveled in front of her, manifesting into a small, bipedal cicada-like Yo-kai. "Greetings! I am Cadin. Young Katie, thine bug-catching set mine heart abuzzing."

"Um… you're welcome?"

"I feel the fires of friendship burning within thine heart; I bestow upon thou mine Yo-kai Medal," the cicada jumped up to Katie's level, reaching his hand out; Katie followed as he did, grabbing an odd token he produced, which had a stylized drawing of Cadin on one side, and a lop-sided heart on the other.

"Oh, your first Yo-kai Medal! I'm so proud," Whisper exclaimed, "that medal's a symbol of your friendship with Cadin. You can summon him with your Yo-kai Watch whenever you want.”

“I shall do battle for thou whenever thou beckon mine summon,” Cadin bowed.

“Oh, boohoo, did you forget about me…”

Katie turned on her heel to face the bird Yo-kai. “Oh, er, I didn’t mean to…”

“Let us do battle, feathered fiend!” the cicada drew his sword, engaging Buhu in battle. The two went into battle stance; Cadin slashed Buhu with his sword, while Buhu launched a whirlwind at the cicada Yo-kai.

“This is your first Yo-kai battle, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, actually. What’s going on?”

“Well, that slash Cadin used is his basic attack; every Yo-kai has one, usually something like a headbutt or slap. Every Yo-kai also has an elemental attributal technique, like Buhu’s Whirlwind; most of them are offensive, but there’s restoration attribute techniques that heal allies,” Whisper explained, “there’s also-”

“Katie, I…” Cadin panted, “would greatly admire thine assistance right now!”

The cicada was clearly battered from Buhu’s attacking - the bird was as well, but not as much. Cadin also had an orange glow around him, which emitted an aura; Katie could somehow sense that it made him faster, though how she knew, she wasn’t sure.

“How do I help?” she asked Whisper.

“Yo-kai have a powerful attack known as a Soultimate,” he explained, “you can charge it - see those buttons on your watch face? The Soultimate button allows you to charge a Yo-kai’s Soultimate by playing a small minigame of sorts.”

Katie nodded, pressing the button; she had to spin a dial that appeared on the watch face. As she did so, Cadin began to glow a pale blue. When Katie completed the spinning, Cadin was fully glowing blue and shouted out, “Cicada Cut!”

The cicada slashed at Buhu several times, knocking the bird to the ground. Both Yo-kai panted, clearly tired and battered from the battle; how they weren’t passing out or something, Katie wasn’t sure, but maybe Yo-kai couldn’t? They seemed to recover very quick anyways.

“Oh, boohoo, you won…” Buhu’s voice was equally as deadpan, unsurprisingly, “now what are you going to do with me? Grill me or fry me?”

“No, gross…” Katie replied, “neither, preferably.”

“Are you going to ask me for forgiveness, boohoo…”

“I should say sorry to you, if anything - I woke you up after all.”

There was a glow between the two as a Yo-kai Medal tossed itself towards Katie; Buhu’s medal had a purple eye on the back side with a picture of her on the other. “I should be going now… call me if you feel like disturbing me…”

Cadin nodded and drew his sword away. “Thou fought very valiantly, young Katie! I must be off now as well, but thou can always summon me if thou are in need.”

The two Yo-kai both disappeared in puffs of purple smoke, leaving Katie in bewilderment at what just happened. “... I just became friends with those two Yo-kai, huh?”

“Yep,” Whisper nodded - well, Katie assumed that was what it was, but he didn’t have a pronounced neck, of course, “ah, I have something else for you.”

The butler pulled out a red book, with an intricate design on the front cover. “This is the Yo-kai Medallium - it allows you to store your Yo-kai Medals for safe keeping,” he grabbed the medals Katie had in her hand and put them in two of the book’s slots, before giving the book to her. Katie put it in her bag, feeling a few seconds away from collapsing.

“So, do you understand Yo-kai better now?”

“I… still can’t quite wrap my head around all this…” Katie admitted, “I’ve, er, always been able to sense Yo-kai to some degree, but… when I’ve seen them before it’s just been a glimpse here and there and they’re gone when I look back.”

“Well, Yo-kai are everywhere here in Springdale!” Whisper exclaimed. “They can’t be perceived by most, and your ability of sensing Yo-kai is rare and special - though, I… have known some with the same ability.”

He paused for a moment before snapping out of his thoughts. “But that’s beside the point - the point being that Yo-kai are everywhere. Maybe you’ll be able to befriend all of them someday!”

“I dunno if I’d even want to…” Katie murmured, before noticing the sun beginning to set, “oh! I need to get home, my parents are probably worried about me…”

She quickly hoisted her bag over her shoulder and got her new watch in a position where it likely wouldn’t be in the way before quickly making her way out of the outcove and down Mount Wildwood - Whisper followed. It was hard to not notice, with her aura sensing abilities.

She managed to mostly ignore it until she got to her street - at that point, Katie turned to the Yo-kai. “... why are you following me?”

“Why, I’m your Yo-kai butler, of course!” Whisper replied. “I will be living with you to help you with any Yo-kai related matters.”

Thank goodness my parents can’t see Yo-kai… Katie thought… though, she’d been able to see Whisper, and he had said a priest had sealed him in that capsule, so… she sighed, pushing the door to her house open. “Mom, I’m home!”

Katie paused but didn’t get a response - she heard clear yelling from the living room. Of course - her dad was home at this point. Normally, her mom and dad had a fine relationship, but more recently they’d been arguing… a lot.

“Why do parents have to argue so much…” she muttered to herself, half-talking to Whisper and half-not.

“Not all relationships can be perfect, unfortunately,” the Yo-kai replied, pausing before adding, “though, that uninvited house guest of yours might have something to do with it.”

Right at that moment, Katie felt an aura surge in the living room. “It’s a Yo-kai, isn’t it?”

He nodded. “They appear to be disguising themselves well - I can sense them, but not see them myself. Time to use your Yo-kai Watch!”

Katie nodded, walking into the living room and popping the lens open - “oh, I forgot to say, you can just shine the Yo-kai Light at a hidden Yo-kai to reveal them!” - shining the light around until she found a Yo-kai.

It was a purple blob of slime… she couldn’t see its face, but she could see a bow - also seemingly made of goo. Katie couldn’t help letting out a small “ew…” as she lowered down her watch.

“Ah, this here is Dismarelda,” Whisper pulled out the same tablet from before, “she makes those she inspirits argumentative and generally depressed - she’s the usual culprit for arguments between usually tgreat couples and friends.”

"Er… Miss Dismarelda?"

The blobby Yo-kai turned to face her. "Oh, can you see me, dahling?"

"Yeah, with this wa-"

"Sorry, I don't remember asking for your whole life story, dahling," Dismarelda pointed out.

"Um… could you stop making my parents fight?"

"Hmm…" the Yo-kai thought for a moment. "No, I don't think so."

"We really need to work on your negotiation skills…" Whisper muttered.

"Allow me to rid you of this fiend!"

Cadin appeared in front of Katie and Whisper with a puff of purple smoke, unsheathing his sword and charging at Dismarelda; she barely even moved and knocked the cicada Yo-kai to the ground. "... nevermind. She's far too strong."

He disappeared in another puff of smoke.

"Whoa, she just one-shot Cadin!"

"I think we should retreat for now," Whisper suggested, "we should come back once we've befriended a full team of Yo-kai."

Katie nodded and the pair made their way out of the house.

"Hey, Whisper…"

"Yes, Katie?"

"... what's a team of Yo-kai?"

[nexttrickanvils]

POV + Beware of Karen

.....Stan's perspective of Guybrush and Karen.

How did Stan let Threepwood talk him into this? Sure he’s done some admittedly impressive feats and has been the only pirate to ever outsmart Stan and on multiple occasions even.

But Stan has known Karen for years and he knows how ruthless she can be. He’s seen her belittle a pirate once so badly that he swore he actually saw the man physically shrink (though now that he thinks about it, Stan would not put it past Karen to start using voodoo.)

“So… how did you and Karen meet?” Threepwood asked

Stan winced at that as he responded, “I don’t want to talk about it."

To be perfectly honest, Stan would be the first to admit that he was her first sucker. Lured in by her sweet promises of partnership, double profits, and possible franchising.

“Why’d you divorce? Or is that too personal?”

That he was willing to explain, “We began to see each other as competition. And Karen is quite ruthless to anyone she sees as competition.”

He can still remember how she’d suddenly conveniently come up with a similar but better product, how she’d insult him right in front of customers, and all the other dirty tricks she’d use. Stan will admit that he is no saint but at least he had SOME standards.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a young woman screaming and running past him and Threepwood.

Even before he heard her voice, Stan could tell this was Karen’s work.

“You’ll thank me when you have to beat the men away with a club!”

“…It’s her.”

Well… it was now or never.

Along with Threepwood, Stan approached Karen.

“Karen.”

She looked over to him and immediately her smile dropped, “...Stan.”

It had been what? A few years since he last saw her? Honestly she hadn’t changed a bit. Still had that haircut and face still caked with make-up.

The two glared at each other until Threepwood stepped forward and tried to introduce himself.

Just as Stan expected, Karen couldn’t care less about the pirate and turned her attention back to him.

“You know Stan, I always said you couldn’t find better than me but wow you really dug rock bottom.”

Stan didn’t say anything, he knew all her tricks by now and he wasn’t going to indulge her with a response. Threepwood on the other hand was the perfect chump.

“Oh, oh no! Stan and I are just… acquaintances… who keep running into each other. I’m happily spoken for to the most beautiful ex-government official in the Caribbean.”

And there were the magic words, Stan barely had time to react when Karen grabbed Threepwood and started on her usual spiel about how he was obviously a bad husband and how her products were the only things that could ever fix this marriage- yada yada yada.

(He could also tell how thick Karen laid on the perfume if Threepwood’s wobbly stance was any indication. Like far more wobbly than usual.)

Stan didn’t take responsibility for most things (thank you contracts and liability clauses!) but he did feel responsible for leading Threepwood in Karen’s viper nest. Thus he quickly grabbed the pirate’s arm and pulled him away from her.

Karen crossed her arms as her annoyed expression came back. Here it comes…

“Hmph, I see you haven’t changed a bit, Stan. You just can’t stand the mere IDEA of someone buying something from someone other than you.”

Yes yes, it was always Stan’s fault, Karen is a perfect angel just trying to do her job. If he had a piece of eight for everytime she did this, Stan could comfortably retire and never work a day in his life again.

“This isn’t about sales and you know it, Karen.”

At that point, Threepwood pushed himself away from Stan and faced Karen.

“Listen, I just wanted to talk to you and clear up all… whatever this is!” Threepwood exclaimed as he pointed fingers at the both of them

At that, Karen began to laugh, by god did Stan NOT miss that laugh.

“Oh, sweetie, there is no fixing that mess. And that mess could also be in your future if you don’t…”

“I’m not buying anything!” Threepwood snapped, finally realizing what he was dealing with

“Oh… no wonder your marriage is on the rocks.”

“HEY! My marriage has survived curses, evil undead voodoo jerks, and my mother-in-law! I think it can survive not buying your stuff”

“See this is what she does! She lies and insults you every way to get you to buy from her!”

“Isn’t that what you do?”

Stan let out an offended gasp at Threepwood’s comment. He always treats his customers like they were kings and queens!

“Oh no no no. What I do is a little something called Cold Reading. A skill of the trade. All she does is push you down and down until you can’t take it anymore!”

“…Again, sounds like what you do.”

“I agree with Stan, how dare you compare my mercantile skills to this idiot who couldn’t sell a used ship to a pair of monkeys!”

OH IF SHE’S GOING TO BRING THAT UP…!

“AT LEAST I DON’T TEST MY WARES ON THE MONKEYS!”

Sometimes Stan is haunted by the image of monkeys in lipstick and eyeshadow. Again, he has some standards!

He saw a brief twitch in her eye, Stan couldn’t help but be proud over hitting that particular nerve.

“Still spreading those lies and slander are we? I think we’re done here, Stan. Leave now and if I see your face around here or worse yet, try to set up shop near me. I will have the Island authorities on you like flies on a zombie.”

“BUT! You’re at a marketplace! You can’t have someone arrested for running a business near you!” Shouted Threepwood

Karen smirked, “True but I can if this is what I tell them…”

Instantly Karen pulled out a handkerchief and started crying those fake tears that Stan was oh so familiar with.

“I-It’s my ex-husband, sir! He-he won’t leave me alone! I just want to run my business in peace but he just keeps harassing me!”

In an instant, the “oh woe is me” act was dropped and that smirk came back.

“Have I made myself clear? Now go on, shoo! You’re scaring off customers.”

It seemed that Threepwood finally realized that there was no way to win this fight so he turned around and Stan quickly followed suit.

“Hey! Goibersh!”

“…It’s Guybru-”

Quickly Threepwood caught a tube of lipstick that Karen tossed at him before it could hit him in the face.

“Consider this a free sample. And when your dear lady inevitably demands more, you’re free to come crawling back to me without Stan.”

With that, Karen went straight back to business, already finding some new sap.

As the two walked far far away, Three- Guybrush spoke up.

“Stan…”

“Yes Guybrush?”

“You can stay on the ship. THIS DOES NOT MAKE US FRIENDS! But I’d feel like a jerk if I just left you to her “mercy.””

Stan gave his usual award winning smile. Honestly he had come to Guybrush in desperation and had figured asking for his help was going to be a long shot. But… Well Guybrush was certainly different from other pirates.

“…Thanks. Maybe if we survive this, I’ll give you a ten percent discount on my next business venture.”

“ONLY TEN PERCENT!?”

Ugh… different but he sure is as ungrateful as other pirates.