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preciouspeterbparker · 4 years

Text

the warmest bed i’ve ever known

finally got this bitch finished!

based on “tis the damn season” by taylor swift. i was also listening to the phoebe bridgers cover of “christmas song”, “last christmas” cover by pale waves (recorded @ spotify), and “home alone, too” by the staves

also this is only my 2nd time writing starker so lmk what you think plz?

happy holidays! - bloo

word count: 6.07k. this was intended to basically be a porny blurb...instead there’s so much fucking plot it’s probably overwhelming and minimal porn. i’m sorry

warnings: angst, depression & anxiety, drug use (that good kush ft some hotboxing & shotgunning), smut, character death (not tony or peter), tony’s kind of country lmao. despite all the aforementioned things, there is in fact a happy ending!

summary: peter makes the trip back home for christmas and once again finds himself caught up in deep brown eyes and a charming smile. tis the damn season.

Peter had forgotten how cold New York winters were. He’d grown used to the year-long warmth of Los Angeles. He supposed the cold was appropriate- it was as if the weather was in cahoots with the solid, frigid thing that was sitting in the pit of his stomach. The last time he’d spent Christmas in Aurora, the last time he’d seen him… Tony.

Just thinking the other man’s name made Peter flex his hands anxiously as he slid out of the driver’s seat of his black Mercedes AMG GT into the amber glow of the streetlight, gently shutting the door closed behind him, still in the overly cautious period of owning the new car. He wondered what Tony would think of it. Last time Peter had come home, he was still driving May’s old Subaru. It’d been almost 2 years to the day, now, which felt like both a century and no time at all. He wished it wasn’t so hard. He wished they hadn’t been caught in this song & dance for so long. It seemed like no matter how good Peter’s intentions, it always came down to one thing: he was so damn scared. He always ran away, no matter how badly he wanted to stay.

Scuffing a boot through the slush in the street, the brunette straightened his shoulders and made his way toward the brick building, a quick smile quirking half his mouth up as he read the neon red sign above the closed garage door. Stark’s. Memories came flooding back, the countless nights he spent cooped up in the little shop during high school, sketching elaborate ensembles and daydreaming about having his very first collection while surrounded by the smell of motor oil and the sounds of tinkering. The bell above the door jingled merrily as Peter stepped through and wiped his feet on the mat. The pleasant sound of Frank Sinatra crooning the words of “The Christmas Waltz” met his ears. Another small smile flitted over Peter’s face. That was something that tended to happen when he was around Tony.

“Just a second,” came the slightly muffled voice, a little strained. The man in question was bent over, headfirst in the engine of his old 1979 Chevy C10, the one he’d gotten senior year of highschool. The collar of a heather grey henley peeked out from under a deep red and green plaid flannel stretched over his shoulders as he leaned a little further under the hood, using a wrench to tighten what looked to be a lugnut to Peter from his spot by the door, too nervous to go further inside.

“I can wait,” Peter replied softly, trying not to stare at Tony’s jean-clad ass and anxious of the older boy man’s reaction. (It looked like Tony had done a lot of growing up over the past two years, no longer the boy he remembered. Peter supposed the same could be said about himself in a way, though he wasn’t sure if it was for better or worse.)

And apparently he was right to be cautious.

Tony promptly smacked his head on the underside of the hood as he jerked upright at the sound of Peter’s voice. “Fuck.” Moving more carefully, Tony stood upright and turned around, his dark eyes wide. “Peter,” he said, visibly and audibly surprised. To be honest, it hurt Peter a little bit, how surprised he sounded. Maybe coming here was a mistake. Did they not do this nearly every year over the past seven? Had- Oh god, had something changed? Fuck, did Tony finally get tired of- Had he found-

Peter resolutely cut that train of thought off before he could panic. “Hi, Tony.” He swallowed drily, making eye contact for a moment, before casting his eyes away only for them to make their way back to the open face in front of him. “Think you have time for a quick bite to eat?” He slipped his left hand into the pocket of the new, warm wool coat he bought expressly for this trip. “It’s almost dinner time. And I have a treat,” he intoned, tapping his right pointer and middle fingers against his lips.

Tony beamed and immediately reached for a shop rag to wipe his hands, the black grease and oil smearing on the probably-used-to-be-white-at-some-point fabric. One of those hands came up to scratch at his facial hair, a new addition that made something simmer deep in Peter’s gut. The older man's brown eyes twinkled as he paused to glance at Peter. “You had me at ‘hi, Tony.’” He then proceeded to move about the shop, swiping his phone from atop a chest of metal drawers, Sinatra’s voice coming to an abrupt stop. He pulled on his old lined jean jacket (the one Peter was constantly mending in high school; now it just had small tears in some places, and what appeared to be Tony’s d-i-y patchwork in others). The sign on the front door was flipped to ‘closed’ and Tony pulled a keyring from his belt loop, locking it and flicking off the lights. The streetlights outside the building and the colorful holiday lights strung along the edge of the roof provided just enough light for them to be able to clearly see each other, the sun having set early, around four o’clock. Peter had forgotten about that as well.

He moved to grab his car keys from a pocket but Tony spoke up, patting the dark green paint of his truck’s hood and walking over to the garage door. His hand hovered over the button that would open it. “Actually, I just finished giving Delilah a tuneup, mind if we take ‘er for a spin?”

“Sure,” Peter agreed without hesitation, still feeling relieved (and grateful) that his invitation was accepted.

Tony pushed his palm against the button and paused to do a double-take after the metal door lifted completely. His eyebrows rose at the sight of Peter’s car parked in the small lot beside the shop. “Damn, L.A.. Not worried about your fancy new car?” His tone was slightly teasing, but there was a bit of shock mixed with something else as well, and it caused Peter to go hot, feeling insecure. (What if Tony didn’t like who Peter was, now? Peter didn’t exactly like who he was now.) Tony must’ve noticed his discomfort, because he cracked a grin and bumped his shoulder against Peter’s as he made his way to the driver’s side, yanking the door open. “C’mon, Parker, ‘m just fuckin’ with you. Hop in - how’da some burgers from Delmar’s an’ a trip out to the field sound?”

***

They grabbed food from the hole-in-the-wall diner down the road (the one where sixteen year-old Peter burned the shit out of his hand on his first day and promptly quit) and once they were bundled back in the truck with their burgers, fries and one banana milkshake (“yeah, but these are your favorite,” Tony had said in response to Peter’s exclamation that it was too cold out), Tony drove them out to the field behind the old high school. He parked the car under the lamppost, leaving it running in order to keep the heat on. His thick mechanic’s fingers began to fiddle with the temperature controls. Nat King Cole was playing quietly on the radio.

Peter shifted the paper bag of food in his lap, searching for words but not knowing what to say, and plucked the joint and lighter from his coat. The paper-covered filter found its way between his lips and he inhaled softly as he lit the tip. Satisfied with the light, he french inhaled, closing his eyes for a moment. The first hit was always the best. Peter loved the way he could feel it all the way in his bones. He didn’t know how to describe it other than deep. When he opened them, he made eye contact with Tony in the dim light, and immediately cut his gaze away as he felt the heat rush to his face. He could feel when Tony looked away a moment later.

The lull continued and Peter gingerly held the joint between his fingertips as he exhaled, hand outstretched.

Worn fingers plucked it away, and Peter’s eyes were immediately drawn to the slightly chapped lips that wrapped themselves around the filter. “You stayin’ at um, at May's...old place?” Tony faltered as he inhaled, as if he wasn't sure what the most sensitive way to talk about it was.

“Yeah," Peter said softly as he looked down at his lap. Spending his first night in the house alone last night had made him feel the loneliest he'd ever been in his life, and that was saying something because he’d been feeling pretty miserable lately. Peter saw May everywhere he looked, waiting to hear her call for him to come taste some new-fangled recipe from the kitchen, or to please, for the hundredth time, rinse the dishes before he put them in the sink. He missed her more than he thought possible, her death earth-shattering after having already lost Ben when he was 17, back when this mess all started. When he left for the first time. When he started running away. “It’s- It’s weird but I’m...adjusting. It’s honestly not that different to when she was alive, though. Y’know- recently.” He cut himself off, not sure if he wanted Tony to know the full reality of his existence, now.

Because it was true. It killed Peter to admit it, but his relationship with Aunt May started going downhill around the time of Ben’s death, too. By the time she had her heart attack a little more than two years ago, he hadn’t seen her in over a year, or talked to her in nearly as long. It was the biggest regret of his life, pushing May away; the second was the way he essentially did the same thing to Tony, however drawn-out it had been.

Peter reached out for the joint and his fingers brushed against Tony’s, sending a jolt up his spine. “How,” Peter started, swallowing as he twiddled the lighter between his fingers not holding the joint. “How’ve you been, Tony?” He was scared to ask what he really wanted to know. Have you finally had enough? Did you stop waiting on me? Am I too late? To distract himself a bit, he cracked the window so he could ash the joint before taking another drag.

"Same ol’, same ol’,” came Tony’s reply, his voice weary. “I mean, you already know this, but nothin’ really changes here." The quiet way he said it was slightly self-deprecating and the younger man hated it, hated that he had something to do with it. (Peter remembered the way he spat the words at Tony in the wee hours of the morning oh so long ago. "I've gotta get out of this fucking town- I can’t stay here, Tony! You might be okay dying here, a nobody with nothing, but I'm not!")

That’s why I had to leave, he thought, chest tightening. I was trapped in this town. It was never you, Tony. You were perfect. You’re perfect.

"..Yeah," is what came out instead. Peter took another hit before he handed the joint back to Tony and began rifling through the grease-splotched bag, passing the older man his burger before unwrapping his own. He took the top bun off in order to lay down a handful of fries from the bag, smooshing the top back on afterwards. A moan left Peter’s mouth at the first bite, and he heard a chuckle bubble up from Tony’s chest. (He would never admit it, especially not to anyone back in L.A., anyone who didn’t know him before, but this was his favorite meal in the world.)

“Funny that you still do that. So, um,” Tony began again, stuffing a few fries in his mouth and chewing as he spoke out the side of his mouth. “I saw your new collection. It looked nice.” He licked a bit of salt off his thumb.

Peter’s ears burned as he swallowed his bite and raised an eyebrow at the man across from him. “You pay attention to fashion, now?” He fought off a smile at the thought of Tony delicately flipping through the pages of a high-fashion magazine.

“Not like- I’ve tried to keep up with your work,” Tony mumbled, swallowing, his own face taking on a bit of a rosy-hue. “Like to know what you're up to all the way out there.” The joint touched his lips for a few seconds before it made its way back to Peter’s fingers. “I do know how Google works.”

Peter shivered as he felt something flutter in the pit of his stomach at the salt grains that touched his tongue when he took his next pull. “Tastes like salt,” he breathed on the exhale, locking eyes with Tony through the smoke that had accumulated in the car.

Something flashed in the older man’s eyes as he stole the weed back and took a large hit, crooking his salt-sprinkled fingers to beckon Peter closer.

Peter’s own reddened eyes widened when he caught on to what Tony wanted, his heart picking up speed. They hadn’t done that in years. Still clutching his burger in his left hand, he used the right to support himself as he leaned over the console to press his mouth against Tony’s. He closed his eyes as he inhaled, fighting the urge to slip his tongue somewhere it didn’t belong. One of Tony’s hands came up to pull his head closer for a moment, his tongue having the same idea as Peter’s, causing him to whine into Tony’s mouth. His pants were getting tight as he licked right back in response, feeling a slight burn from exhaling through his nose. He missed this. Nobody kissed him like Tony did-

“Shit!” Tony pulled away sharply, and Peter’s heart stopped for a second. But when he realized what was happening, he couldn’t contain the surprised cackle that erupted as he saw the joint land in the other man’s lap. “Quit it,” was Tony’s reply, though he was grinning as he said it. He grabbed what was left of the joint off his jeans and stubbed it out the rest of the way on the dashboard. “It burned my fuckin’ finger.”

“Oh poor baby,” Peter shot back, shifting in his seat and taking another bite of his burger. He willed the slight chub to go away, but knew it was a lost cause. He pretty much signed up for it; he was always turned on when he was high around Tony (and most of the time when he was sober, too). Some kind of conditioning or something, he thought deliriously.

“Ya better hush up, Parker,” Tony snarked and dipped some fries into Peter’s banana shake. He rolled his neck a bit, reaching for his burger. “So, kid. Tell me ‘bout L.A..”

***

Peter was basking peacefully in his high, humming along to whatever was playing through the speakers. He and Tony had both finished their food, chatting about this and that, but nothing of real substance, their earlier stilted conversation far from their minds. Shooting the shit, as Tony called it, over some weed and a meal was their normal routine when they were younger, and it came as naturally as breathing. Peter had never met anyone else he could simply coexist with on this level, simply enjoying the other’s presence for what it was. I love you, he thought as he looked at Tony, who was leaning back in his seat with his eyes closed and nodding his head along with the beat. I’m so in love with you and it scares the shit out of me.

The younger man’s eyes roved over Tony’s face as his mind raced. What was he doing? Would something be different this time? He wasn’t that angry seventeen year old anymore- now he was twenty-four, clinically depressed, and living someone else’s life. Would it be so bad to finally leave that all behind, to finally let himself have what he’s denied himself for so long? Didn’t he deserve to be happy, after all this pain? And even if it wasn’t in the cards for them, if Peter was destined to be alone, wouldn’t even the most miniscule amount of time with Tony be worth it?

Tony’s gravelly voice startled him back to the present. “I should probably be gettin’ you home, huh, Peter?” The bearded man opened his eyes and began sitting up, turning to look at him. The expression on his face was unreadable, and Peter didn’t know if he should agree or protest, so he merely lifted a shoulder in faux indifference, shooting Tony a half-smile.

Please, call me Pete… Just Pete, Peter begged in his head. Tony calling him by his full name made the ugly thing in his chest wriggle uncomfortably. Last time he was home, before he said those awful things, Tony hadn’t called him Peter in years. Yet another beautiful thing that he’d taken for granted and ruined for himself.

“Could also drive around for a bit if you wanted, see some lights.” Damn Tony and his ability to read Peter so well. The suggestion was soft, and he looked down as he said it, almost as if he was feeling shy.

Peter shook his head minutely and shifted a little in his seat, gently biting his lip. “I’m getting a little tired, haven’t smoked in a while,” he lied through his teeth, but the smile on his face was real this time.

Tony grinned right back at him.

(“What would we even do on a date? There’s nothing to do here, Tony,” Peter said with a laugh. “I dunno,” Tony replied, snuggling the lighter-haired teenager closer into his chest as they snuggled on the couch. “We could go look at the Christmas lights, get some hot chocolate… I could tie some mistletoe to the mirror in the truck. There’d be sum kissin’ involved….” He trailed off as Peter’s lips found his own. “Or we could do the kissin’ right here,” he murmured, sinking into the kiss.)

***

The drive back to May’s house was spent with Tony catching Peter up on everyone in town as they passed various houses. (“Remember Happy Hogan, the butcher?? Him an’ that pretty florist, Ms. Potts, got married last year. Think they’re havin’ a baby,last I heard.” “Rhodey’s mama died this spring, she got cancer, but he an’ Mr. Rhodes still live out here now that Rhodey’s moved home. Honorable discharge last fall. Done got himself a new girlfriend now too, Carol; he met ‘er in the Air Force. She’s a sweet one, I think you’d like ‘er.”)

When they pulled into the driveway, Tony cut the engine and hopped out. Peter did the same, grabbing the bag with their trash and patting his pocket, double-checking for his keys and lighter. He stepped around Tony, who had stopped at the bottom of the front steps, and walked up to the door, fumbling for a minute with his keys under the porch light to find the right one (it had robin’s egg blue polka-dots of May’s favorite nail polish). Tony’s footsteps followed him up the stairs.

Peter stuck the key in the lock and opened the door a crack before turning to face the taller man. “So.”

Tony’s eyes searched his own as they gazed at one another. “So,” he parroted back. His index finger went up to rub at his nose as he took a hard sniff in. There was a beat of silence. “Thanks for the joint, and uh, the company. It was good seein’ you,” he said at last, a hint of his signature lopsided grin curving his lips.

Peter felt the goodbye that was coming before it even left Tony’s mouth, and something in him broke. “Don’t leave me here alone.” The words came out of Peter’s mouth in a mumble, and suddenly he couldn’t make eye contact with Tony, losing focus and staring at his own feet instead. He felt the harsh burning of tears as it hit him again just how alone he was about to be when he walked inside, how alone he already was. He was always so fucking alone.

Even in L.A., so much bigger than fucking Aurora, New York, surrounded by thousands of people, Peter still felt invisible, insignificant. He had no friends. Sure, he had a publicist, and connections, and celebrity acquaintances & clientele. But without his money and his clothes, what would he have? What did he have when he was just Peter Parker, rather than Peter Benjamin, semi-famous designer? Nothing. (When he got the call about May, and he’d broken down in the bathroom during a business meeting with representatives for Tom Ford, he realized he had no one to call. No one to comfort him or tell him it would be okay. He’d sobbed into his pillow that night, screaming his throat raw with Tony’s number punched into his phone, ready to be dialed. He never called.) He had nothing and no one, and it was all his fault because he was so stupid, and maybe this is just what he deserved. If he hadn’t pushed everyone-

“Hey- Hey, Peter, no. Never,” Tony was saying gently, cautiously pulling Peter into his strong arms and out of his anxiety attack. “‘m not goin’ anywhere if y’don’t want me to, baby.” He tucked Peter’s head under his chin, a chill running down his spine due to the chilly evening air. “S’okay, everythin’s okay.”

Peter sucked in a deep breath through his mouth, trying to calm himself. His forehead dug into Tony’s shoulder painfully but it helped to ground him. The soothing sensation of Tony’s fingers tracing circles on his back helped, too. Peter’s breath was still hitching every so often, so he shut his eyes and tried to synch his breathing with Tony’s. It felt so nice to just be this close to someone- Peter couldn’t remember the last time he’d been held. Tony had probably been the last one to do it, though. (He’d had sex in L.A. of course, but it was all superficial. Nothing real. Nothing like what he had with Tony- not even close.) Shifting slightly, he buried his nose in the crook of Tony’s neck, searching unconsciously for the smell he loved so much; a mix of gasoline, teakwood, and something smoky. The scent sent a shiver down Peter’s spine, and that hot feeling simmered in his stomach again. He’d always joked that he would bottle Tony’s smell if he could. Tony would just laugh and jokingly tease Peter for always having his nose in his neck or armpit.

Now Tony just hummed lightly in response, tightening his hold for a moment before relaxing. “‘Yer’okay,” he whispered, once he could feel that Peter’s breathing had evened out for the most part.

Peter pulled back a bit and stared at a spot in the middle of Tony’s chest, thinking. He decided to go for it. Worst that could happen was Tony saying no, and leaving Peter here alone, but he knew he’d end up alone eventually. But he’d delay the inevitable as long as he could. “Kiss me, T,” he said quietly, leaning in before he could change his mind. His lips brushed Tony’s and he pulled back, trying not to go cross eyed looking into the other’s eyes. “I don’t wanna be alone anymore.”

Tony stared at him for a moment before their mouths met again, and Peter nipped gently at his lip before clumsily walking backwards through the cracked front door, pulling Tony with him with their mouths still connected. Tony’s foot kicked it closed behind them, bathing them in darkness, and he tripped a bit when Peter clutched at the lapels of his jacket a little too hard. Cursing under his breath, he leaned back against the door and tugged Peter along, using the support behind him to balance as he toed his boots off. They disconnected momentarily as the shorter man did the same, hands still gripping the denim.

Peter licked his lip as they stood in the dark entryway. Looking up at Tony, he shrugged his coat off, letting it fall to the hardwood floor beneath them. He reached out and gently pushed the denim jacket off the taller man’s shoulders too before leaning in, stopping just before their lips made contact. “Come upstairs with me,” he whispered.

Tony’s mocha eyes flitted around for a minute, searching his face for something. Peter couldn’t tell if he liked what he saw, but Tony kissed him again before taking his hand. “Your room,” he questioned, taking hold of the banister and leading Peter up the stairs.

***

“Fuck, Tony. Right there, right there, ohhhhh.” Peter was on his back with one leg thrown over Tony’s shoulder and the other bent off to the side, the ball of his foot pushing into the mattress. The mechanic’s uncut cock was stretching his lubed hole. Tony was leaning over him and one of his hands was clutching at Peter’s hip, the other at the leg up by his face. His facial hair scratched deliciously against the pale skin on the inside of Peter’s knee as he pressed a kiss there.

(Tony had kissed and licked and sucked praises into the skin of his neck, chest, stomach and thighs as he’d fingered him open at a torturously slow pace. “So good fer me, Pete. Look at you. You’re so goddamn beautiful.” Peter had whimpered and whined the whole time as he tried to fuck himself on the thick digits whose pads were caressing his prostate.)

A moan left the older man’s lips as he looked into Peter’s eyes. “You feel so good, baby. Always feel so- fuckin’- good,” he grunted, thrusting further in the tight, wet heat. “Love fuckin’ your ass.” He dug his fingers tighter into Peter’s skin, sure to leave bruises.

Gasping, Peter arched his hips up, toes curling, cock bobbing against his stomach with every thrust. He could feel Tony deep inside him, in that place that only he had ever been able to reach. Fuck, why had he ever let this go? Never letting you go again, Tony. You can’t leave me alone. I need you. I love you. He whined, baring his neck in a silent plea and bringing his leg down so that both were wrapped around the man’s thick waist. Tony reacted accordingly; his hands moved up to clutch at Peter’s near the headboard and his mouth latched onto the column of Peter’s neck, sucking. A wounded noise escaped Peter, his hole clenching, and Tony bit down harshly at the sensation. Peter keened again, going limp on the mattress as his legs fell open to the side. “Shit, Tony, god!”

Hot, wet breath tickled Peter’s neck with every ragged exhale that left Tony’s mouth, causing the smaller to whine lewdly, squirming. “Yeah? Are you- mine? Y’gon be mine- huh, Pete?” Peter heard the unspoken question, the twinge of desperation in Tony’s voice. Will you finally be mine? He sounded tired, that deep-in-your-bones type weariness, Peter noticed as he felt his own chest start to get tight. He’d really done a number on the person who deserved it the least. And for what? To come crawling back years later, expecting to be forgiven?

Yes, he thought in response to Tony’s question, hating himself for it. One of his hands tangled itself in the crown of Tony’s head, fingers pulling the strands at the root possessively as teeth sunk into his neck again. Yours. Always yours. He let out another moan, rolling his hips in an attempt to get some friction on his neglected cock that was weeping precum as Tony continued to thrust in and out of him. “Please, please- Tony, please.” If Peter had any shame left, he’d probably be blushing at how needy and wrecked he sounded. Instead it just turned him on, knowing just how gone he was for the other man.

With a grunt, Tony redistributed his weight and brought two fingers to Peter’s lips. “Open up fer a minute, baby,” he requested softly, slipping the digits inside. Peter laved them with his tongue, coating them with thick saliva and Tony groaned at the feeling, dick twitching in Peter’s ass. Once they were sufficiently wet, he pulled his fingers away, a thin string of drool stretching to connect them to Peter’s slick lips. “Fuckin’ gorgeous, Pete, Christ.” His calloused hand wrapped loosely around the hot, rosy cock between them. “Fuck my hand, baby.”

Peter complied without hesitation, rocking his hips and pressing his shaft in and out of the slick tunnel that was Tony’s hand. He cried out when Tony’s thumb caressed the underside of the head as the cock inside of him nailed directly into his prostate. The pressure had already been a lot, but the pleasure was suddenly overwhelming in a new way. He was so close and Tony hadn’t even been touching him for thirty seconds. “F-fuck, Tony, I’m gonna- Ahhhhh-”

“Yeah, cum for me, Pete,” Tony’s warm breath heaved into his ear, tongue sneaking out to lick the outer shell and dip inside briefly at the same time he tightened his grip on Peter’s sensitive member. “Fuck, cum for me, baby, cum on my- Cum on my cock- God-.”

And with a cry, Peter did just that, biting into Tony’s shoulder as the tension in his gut snapped, hole twitch relentlessly around the hard cock inside him as his own shot spurt after spurt of hot cum on his chest; some reached the hollow of his throat and his chin. “God, Tony, shit, shit, shit.”

“Yesssss, Pete, holy fuck.” Tony buried himself inside one last time, his mouth latching onto the column of Peter’s neck as he reached his orgasm, shoving himself inside as deep as possible. His dick twitched, painting Peter’s insides with his spend and making him groan.

They stayed that way for a moment before Tony pulled back to look into Peter’s eyes. “Lemme clean’ya up,” he offered gently as he carefully pulled his softening cock out of the heat of the younger man’s ass. There was a slight burbling sound, and he brushed his lips against Peter’s when he saw the embarrassment flash across his face. “Hol’ on.” Climbing out of the bed, he made his way to the bathroom that was adjoined to Peter’s room.

Peter’s heart was beating uncomfortably in his chest as he lay among the sheets, bringing his hands up to his chest to fiddle with each other anxiously. It couldn’t be over. He wasn’t ready for it to be over. He wasn’t ready to be alone again.

When Tony walked back in, he got back on the bed, gently wiping the cum off Peter’s chest with a warm rag, smirking at the full-body shivers that ran through the young man in response to the cloth being swiped lightly over his nipples. Once his chest was clean, Tony moved down to run the fabric between Peter’s ass cheeks, collecting the milky-white substance that was leaking out of the hole.

“Stay,” Peter whispered, once Tony had thrown the washcloth in the hamper and climbed back into bed at Peter’s invitation of patting the spot beside himself in bed. He wiggled so that his back was pressed up against Tony’s front. His fingers tangled themselves with those on a slightly larger hand and as he let his eyes slip shut, he felt Tony’s lips press a kiss into the sweaty curls at the back of his head.

***

When Peter woke up, it was well past noon. The bed was so warm that the heat from his and Tony’s bodies trapped up under the fluffy comforter would be sweltering if he didn’t crave it so much.

Peter swallowed drily as he looked at Tony’s face in the afternoon light, peaceful in sleep. At some point during their sleep, they had shifted to where they were facing each other. He wanted to trace his fingers along the strong facial features in front of him, but he refrained, not wanting to wake the older man. He knew he needed to talk to Tony. He knew that Tony deserved better. But maybe Peter could be selfish just this once... It was Christmas after all. Tis the damn season and all that.

Leaning forward, with a hand pressed gently against Tony’s chest, Peter pecked his lips against the sleeping man’s in a kiss. He got no response, so he did it again, adding a little more pressure. Tony began to stir; his arm wrapped lazily around Peter’s naked waist, pulling their bottom halves together.

“G’mornin’,” Tony mumbled sleepily as he blinked a few times before his gaze focused on Peter. His voice was scratchy and rough, and Peter’s hips jerked slightly in response as he whispered back his own greeting, partially because Tony had begun to get hard. The mechanic brought up a hand and took hold of Peter’s chin, pulling their mouths together as he ground their burgeoning erections together.

Peter wrapped a leg around Tony’s waist as they lay there on their sides and began to gently rock his hips. “Tony,” he mewled, eyes screwed shut. The words were bubbling up inside him, just like the arousal was blooming in his gut. One of his arms wrapped around Tony’s neck, pulling their bodies together as close as they could get.

“Yeah,” came Tony’s breathy reply. His eyes were roving over Peter’s flushed face as he undulated his own hips, thumb coming up to press against the younger’s spit-slick bottom lip. “Whadisit?”

Peter took the digit into his mouth for a moment and they made eye contact as he swirled his tongue around the tip, fellating it. He released it from his mouth with a pop, biting his own lip. “Am I too late,” he asked quietly, burying his face in the muscled chest before him, pecking tender kisses on the heated flesh. “Do you still love me?” His voice shook as he continued, breath faltering as well as the sensations built up. He squeezed his eyes shut even though Tony couldn’t see the tears building in his eyes as he chased his pleasure, preparing for the inevitable pain that was sure to follow.

“Pete.” The way Tony said his name was reverent, like he didn’t see Peter for the walking mistake that he was. He was breathing heavier now, too, with the exertion of frotting their hard cocks together. “How could I ever stop, baby?” He craned his neck in order to meet Peter’s eyes. “Was just waitin’ on ya t’come home.” He pressed their lips together as Peter’s leg tightened around his waist. “Was always just waitin’ on ya t’come home,” he repeated. A particularly hard thrust had them both groaning, clutching desperately at each other as they chased that euphoric feeling. “’Course I love you, Peter. Now cum for me.”

Peter couldn’t help but obey as a sob burst from his lips, Tony following him over the edge. “I love you,” he cried, as their bodies shook together. “I’m s-sorry Tony, I love you- Don’t go, don’t ever leave me. I won’t- I promise I won’t go again. I can’t go again, I can’t leave you again. I won’t.” Tony’s thumbs came up to wipe the tears from under his eyes, and a kiss was pressed to his temple as he felt himself be pulled into those strong arms.

“I’d never leave you, Pete.”

***

The bed was cold when Peter woke again. He lay there, watching the sunset through his bedroom window. Gentle creaks could be heard as the house groaned under pressure from the falling snow. He rolled over, grimacing at the pain in his lower half and pulling a pillow to his chest. It still smelled of teakwood, smoke, and gasoline. He smiled, burying his face further into the intoxicating scent. “I love you,” he whispered to the empty house, feeling lighter than he had in years.

(Yes, the bed was cold, now. But Tony would be back to warm it up. And he’d have burgers, fries, and a banana milkshake when he returned. Maybe even a joint. Peter was glad he didn’t have to wait long. They’d had just about enough of that over the past seven years.)

#starker #hey it might be a week later than i intended to finish but at least it's out by christmas #bloo writes bad things (tm)#enjoy!

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ithebookhoarder · 4 years

Note

Your sleepy head canons for the SW trio were adorable! Can I pretty please ask what the original star wars babies would be like with a sick reader? I just need some cuteness in my life right now and I'm rewatching the movies so yeah...

A/N: Um, yes you can! One fluffy dose of OG star wars coming up.

Star Wars (Head-canons): Dealing with a sick reader

Masterlist:

Han:

This man is a marshmallow on the inside, even if years alone in the smuggling game has ensured that it’s deeply hidden away beneath that stoicism and devil-may-care attitude.

You are one of the only people in the entire galaxy he lets see his softer side, whether it’s his casual affection during the day on the Falcon, or his little thoughtful gestures like fetching you caff when you’re flying or working your ass off on repairs.

It’s why he’s actually rather sweet to you when you’re sick, ordering Chewie to take over whatever you were meant to be doing so you can get some rest.

“Han. I’m fine. It’s just a sniffle. I’ll live.”

“I know that, princess, but I don’t need you breaking my ship because you’re too busy coughing and sneezing to see what wires you’re tinkering with.”

You laugh, knowing his sass is his way of hiding the worry that’s brewing inside of him at the sight of you coughing and spluttering around the place. So, you surrender your tools to him and allow him to help you back to your quarters. It’s that or letting him drag you there over his shoulder, like some kind of deranged caveman.

Once you get to your room, you half expect him to leave you there to fend for yourself, but you’re surprised to see him hovering around you, already working out a list of supplies.

“You should lie down. I’ll grab ya some of that fancy tea you like so damn much.”

“Thanks, hon.”

“Do you need anything else? What about some more blankets? Some pillows? I can grab Chewie’s. He doesn’t need it-“

Who knew Han Solo could be such a secret mother hen?

Turns out, with all his travels, he knows a thing or two about fending off a cold. It’s actually rather cute.

You’re too busy trying not to laugh to say no as he hurries about the place and effectively builds you a nest in your shared quarters. He’s also glued to your side, leaving his Wookie first mate in charge while he sees to your every need, even if it’s just holding you while you sleep off whatever it is that’s taken you down.

“I told you you needed a better coat on that planet but nooo your stubborn ass said you didn’t need one.”

“Han. Stop. I didn’t catch this cold there.”

“Where else would you have caught it?”

“Things just happen. It’s ok.”

Han definitely doesn’t think it’s ok, but he doesn’t want to tire you out for arguing over something dumb. You’re just as stubborn as he is and arguments between you two have been known to go on for days sometimes.

Instead, he agrees to disagree for now. As long as you rest and get better then everything else doesn’t matter.

However, the next time you plan to leave the ship he just so happens to be waiting by the ramp, a thick, chunky coat in his hand. And a hat. And gloves.

He grins and presses a kiss to your frowning face as you waddle out, almost suffocating but willing to endure for his sake and as a thank you for all his care the past week.

You also make a mental note to repay the favour next time he gets a little under the weather. You’re sure Chewie would enjoy the sight of his captain haggling with clients, while swaddled in knitwear.

Luke:

Coming from a desert planet, Luke doesn’t know too much about handling things like colds. He’s more used to handling dehydration, sunburn, malnutrition or even the odd blaster wound or two from Jawas.

However, once joining the Rebellion, he learns pretty quickly after being struck down with surprising regularity. He’s an old friend to colds and other conditions common on other planets and in space.

That’s actually how he meets you, always being ordered to stop by the Med Bay by Leia the minute he starts sneezing.

“I don’t need you spreading the plague, Luke,” she sighs, ushering him over to you and ordering him to let you take care of him. “You may be some mighty Jedi but even Jedis get sick.”

You actually enjoy getting to spend time with Luke when he’s sick, and sharing your knowledge about cures and ways to avoid catching diseases in the first place. Luke also enjoys listening to you, admiring how clever you are and how kind, and careful, you are when handling patients.

Thus, when you eventually get sick, he’s only too eager to return the favour. It’s time for him to take care of you, even if he knows you’re perfectly capable of doing it yourself.

“Just because you can doesn’t mean you should, Y/N. Let me help you. Please?”

You smile, agreeing as he takes up residence at your bedside for the next few days. Turns out, he actually has a tender bedside manner, and is incredibly good at keeping you distracted when you get fed up of being on bedrest.

He’s also incredibly aware of changes in mood or your condition, sensing them through the force before you even do. Hence why he’s by your side the moment you take a bad turn, despite him being half way across the base for training.

If he’s out of breath then that’s just a coincidence cause nooooo, he didn’t run here. No. He was right outside and just so happened to be coming in when you needed him most.

“Luke? What the-?”

“Here. I brought soup and some more pain killers from the med bay.”

You take his offerings, grinning in delight as the smell of food hits your nose. “Hmm, my saviour.”

His smile is the cutest thing you’ve ever seen as is his blushing cheeks. “I’m just taking care of you. Who else is going to nurse me back to health next time I’m the one who’s sick?”

“Anything for my favourite farm-boy.”

“Your farm-boy.”

His kiss as he settles in bed beside you is almost enough to make you feel better all on its own.

Leia:

Like mother, like daughter, this woman is a public servant. She may also be a workaholic, but she has her priorities in order and you come before whatever meetings or plans she has for the day.

In fact, the first time you got sick and didn’t tell her, she was hurt. It was C3-PO that had outed you, saying something about you being in your rooms and unable to join in the meeting scheduled that morning when asked where you were. (You knew you shouldn’t have trusted that golden tin can)

Leia had been on you in seconds, bursting in your room and yelling at you for a whole hour about how stupid it was to suffer in silence.

“We have medical staff, Y/N, for this exact reason! You’d rather lie here in pain, suffering, when you could have called someone? Or even me? Don’t tell me you’ve been around Han too much, Maker knows I don’t need two stubborn idiots on this base.”

“I love you too, Your Majesty.”

“Shut up or I’ll tell threepio to come and watch you.”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

She would dare, but you were more than happy to put up with the lecture, however, given that she was busy wiping at your brow and tucking you in whilst yelling. That, and you had enough of a headache without threepio making worse.

It felt rather surreal to think you had royalty waiting on you hand and foot - even if Leia would have yelled again if you said that to her face. She loved you more than anything and made sure to tell you at least once a day. She wasn’t just a princess, she was your partner and that was all that mattered.

Needless to say, you’d learnt your lesson; whenever you got sick again, you made sure to let Leia know you weren’t feeling great.

That way she could make sure to keep an eye on you, or assign someone to do so when she was dragged from your side for some super urgent meeting she couldn’t avoid any longer.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Leia. Go. You’re needed. I can survive an hour or so without you, but we all know this base won’t if you don’t get your ass over to mission control.”

“You have a good point.”

You chuckle as she steals a kiss before hurrying off to her duties. By the time you wake up from your nap, she’s back again and curled up next to you, watching you out of the corner of her eye whilst she works on the pad in her lap.

She also sings you little lullabies when you’re sick and can’t sleep. They’re all songs her parents sang to her whenever she got sick as a kid. That alone makes you feel better, sharing something so private with her.

Long story short, you may hate being sick, but you don’t hate being sick with Leia around to love and care for you.

#star wars #Star Wars fanfic #star wars imagine #star wars headcanons #princess leia x reader #leia x reader #leia organa #luke skywalker x reader #Luke Skywalker #han solo x reader #Han Solo #masterlist #ithebookhoarder #request #prompt #answered #EPIV #star wars x reader #han x reader

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themadauthorshatter · 4 years

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PG-13 NINJAGO REWRITE/UNIVERSE ALTERATIONS!

This is basically if the show was meant for a more teenaged and mature audience. I don't know how long this will be, but I'll just start with the characters first, because I can

Because he's my favorite, and I love him, Zane's first: Instead of being a robot, how about something more tragic? DECADES remotely close to the series beginning, Zane was in a very nice family. An adopted, blended family, but a nice family nonetheless. So, what happened? A storm? A fire? A natural disaster? Worse. A war. A raid made by the opposing side, more specifically. Zane protected his siblings and villagers from attackers, but was grabbed and lined up for execution. When they grabbed and injured an elderly man, Zane attacked the officer and punched him. A lot. Another officer muzzle bumped him off and beat him to death in front of his family. The ally side arrive and save everyone. Too bad they're too late to save Zane. All, but one. A scientist who's been reformed and is skilled in mechanics and artificial organs; synthetics. He's also lost his own son. He deserts into the woods with Zane and gets to work, replacing Zane's skin with a stretchy material close to what you find in the legs of old barbie dolls, where the legs and heads were soft, his hair with- well, wig hair, his bones and joints with metal and clock work, his normal eyes with porcelain doll eyes, and his heart with a core that keeps him running and alive. Think Tony Stark's arc reactor, but if it's removed, Zane has 15 minutes to put it back or else he'll die and stay dead. It took FOREVER, but Zane eventually awoke up. The doctor, fuck it, was so relieved and helped Zane sit up and get used to being alive again-and half metal, but let's focus on his motor skills first. He lived with this doctor for a VERY, VERY long time. For context, if we were to set this in 2021, Zane would have died in around 1923 and been brought back in 1944 and saw the doctor that worked on him die in 2010. He's OLD. Back on track, Zane learned all he does, reading, talking, cooking, and whatnot, until the master of ice pays a visit and spends the day with Zane, asking him who he is, how old he is, and how long he's been with the doctor. After his visit, and Wu's, the doctor starts to see Zane slowly realize what's happened to him, but also question where his family is. Turns out the war wasn't easily won because the doctor shows Zane a family in a graveyard, near where they live. HIS FAMILY. And his name is there too. After this, Zane is traumatized, refusing to eat, drink, sleep, and talk, even ignoring his companion in the form of the Falcon. When the doctor sees Zane shaking sporadically, and sees him drooling a lot, he realizes the toll this is all taking on his son, who breaks down emotionally and mentally in his arms.

"F-father?"

"Yes? What is it, Zane?"

"I'm supposed to be dead, right? The tombstone in the graveyard, I should be under it, right?"

Cue silence from the doctor.

"Do you love me?"

"More than life itself."

"And... you would do anything for me?"

"Anything. Why?"

"I want to die. I want you to destroy me!"

The doctor gasps and hugs Zane close.

"I can't! You're my son, Zane! I can't lose you!"

"Am I your son, or your prized possession built from scrap parts and a corpse?"

"Zane-"

"I had a sister!" Zane snaps. "A mother! A father! And three brothers and a cousin and an uncle! I died protecting them and here I am while they rest beneath the ground!"

"You're my son, Zane!" The doctor holds Zane's shoulders to steady him. "You're my son, and I do love you. You're all that I have now, son."

Zane, broken and miserable, apologizes to his father as he drives a screwdriver into his own head, forcing his father to catch him as he falls down.

When Zane comes to, he's resting in his bed and feels worse than ever, as in he's sad and guilty for going off on his father the way he did.

The doctor apologizes for not telling him sooner, admitting that Zane's recovery took so long that resurrecting his whole family would be impossible, even if he'd taught Zane how to do it, no one in his family had the same blood type and some were even allergic to the medicine used to keep Zane's body fresh.

When Zane feels a poke in his head and notices his foot twitches at random, he gets curious. "What are you working on now?"

"You've been having seizures recently. I want to make sure the small cables and wires in your brain are all set correctly, so I know none of them are causing it."

"I see."

"Can you say your name?"

"Zane."

"Can you spell it?"

Cue some focused humming as Zane struggles a little bit. "Z... A...I-"

"Wrong. Try again."

"Z... A..." Long pause. "N... E."

"Good."

"Can... Can you change things from your position? Effect my movements and mind?"

"I can try."

"Can you make me forget?"

The doctor tells Zane it would be better if he remembered his family, but Zane weeps as he admits he'll tey to destroy himself again, if he remembers his family; it's not just grief, it's also a huge amount of guilt over the fact that he's alive while his family is dead.

The doctor agrees and hides his memories of his family.

He also rigs the same wiring to his heart rate monitor; when he dies, Zane will leave and forget him, and the fact that he is supposed to be dead. He'll forget just about everything, except for his name, how to read, breathe, eat, and take care of himself.

AND THAT HAPPENS.

Zane wanders through the woods, mute and silent until some villagers take him in and give him shelter. It takes a village to raise a child, so the village pitches in. Some children try getting him to play with them, but he only stands and stares, even when a little girl tells him she thinks he's cute.

Wu finds him again, and takes him to the monastery, where Jay and Cole are.

They do not like Zane. He stands, he stares, and he barely pays attention to what they have to say, though he does stare at Wu a lot.

They also think he's creepy because, well... remember that one stance Arthur does in the movie Joker, where he stands holding himself between the door frames and looks really creepy? Zane does that. A lot. In the morning when they wake him up and at night when they're about to go to sleep.

They sort of got what was wrong when he had a seizure while cooking; Cole was talking and explaining why he and Jay were keeping their diatance from him, and then heard Zane fall and the pot OF BOILING SOUP tumble on top of him. He shouted for Wu amd Jay and held Zane until the seizure stopped and Zane just stared at him tiredly and almost like he was about to cry.

"Are you... okay, Zane?"

"... Co... Cole?"

"Yeah? What is it?"

"... I'm sorry. Dinner is... going to have to wait." Zane tries to stand, but Jay holds his shoulder.

"Dude, are you sure? We can just order takeout for the night, if you're not up for cooking."

"I'm... I'm fine... J... J..."

Jay holds Zane in front of him by the shoulders. "I'm Jay. Remember?" Zane repeats Jay's name and Jay and Cole help him to sit down at the table.

"Perhaps you should rest for the evening and allow one of your brothers to prepare dinner tonight?" Wu highly recommends as he holds a hand on Zane's shoulder, in case he has another seizure.

Zane reluctantly agrees and Jay and Cole order a pizza; Zane offered to pay, but they told him to sit the hell down.

Upon meetung Kai, Zane is back at square one, except he has Cole and Jay to keep him in check and to help Kai gor when he gets weirded out.

They all get scared when they hear and see Zane banging his head against the wall, like bending his back and head back and curling into the wall as hard as he can and when he had a really bad seizure while sleeping, but don't bring it up because he stares off into space and stops cooking.

YOU CAN ONLY IMAGINE HOW THEY REACTED WHEN THEY ALL GOIND OIT ZANE HAS BEEN DEAD ALL THIS TIME!!!!!!!

Personality wise, Zane is still smart, funny on accident, and very brave with a sixth sense, he's just the most "ninja" out of all the ninja because he's surprisingly light on his feet and quiet as a shadow. When he meets someone new, he doesn't talk. At all. It's a trust thing, so he'll whisper to anyone he does trust to talk back to the new person.

Still the ice ninja, but Kai made the mistake of interrupting a staring contest between Zane and his mirror reflection by tapping on his shoulder.

Zane spun around to face him with terrifying speed, but Kai backed up and held his hands up.

"Sorry, Zane. I just... You're... really cold."

Zane checked his outfit, which was long sleeved.

"I don't know, maybe... take a bath to warm up? Eat a little more? Get sime sunshine?"

Their one sided conversation ended with Zane staring at him before patting Kai on the head, and trying to make his spiky ass hair stay down, and returning to the mirror.

I should note:

ZANE AND MIRRORS DO NOT MIX.

He hates them. They freak him out. It has nothing to do with memories, he just gets scares that there's another him in another bathroom in another monastery in another Ninjago in another world, where it's all the same, but backwards. Sort of doesn't get that all reflective surfaces like ceramic plates, cutlery, and anyhting else of the sort are just reflecting light.

He doesn't get movies or video games, either. The other three tried teaching him, but he quickly became the player they had to look out for, because he'd get lost exploring the game's map rather than actually playing, which he found boring. Usually he'll just sit back and watch them play, ever the passive observer.

His seizures are due to immense stress and his memories trying to come back, but the little feat of tinkering his father did keeps fighting back, so whenever he's cooking and reminded of the doctor that saves him, he has a seizure.

He can take a lot of damage, but he's not good with getting electrocuted; if he's hit, he's down and useless for fifteen minutes, at least. Remember that cinstricti that almost killed him and Cole? Zane was more annoyed at the snake and concerned for Cole's safety rather than his. AND THE SNAKE DIDN'T FEEL ZANE'S RIBS. AT ALL.

The area around the core that keeps Zane alive is made if a similar material as those squishy slime balls that you sqeeze and the slime spews out of the little holes in the net, but a little more durable. Now that I think about it, it's made of a sort of ooblek substance, but it's a different matieral than cornstarche added. I don't know what, but it's made to keep the core, and Zane, from getting hurt.

Zane actually hides from Nya during her first few months of joining the team. Again, nothing to do with memory, he just got freaked out because she got kidnapped by the skeleton army. She keeps her distance, too, giving him glances and smiles while he stares at her, and Jay even switched seats with Nya to try and help Zane warm up to her, as in he'd sit next to her. He did so and got Nya to talk about something that had been eating her up inside, leading to her hugging him and crying in his shoulder. Kai and Jay were extremely close to yelling at him until Nya pulled away and thanked Zane, because she needed to cry.

When they go off on him for what happened to the monastery, Zane has a mini seizure until he sees the falcon and leaves just as the seizure starts.

Cole and Jay know what to do with these seizures, but when Kai first saw Zane having one, he held Zane and shouted for help until Zane put a hand over Kai's mouth and rubbed his eyes with the other; "I hate when that happens."

For any TLDR people: Zane's basically a reanimated corpse running on robot energy who doesn't remember his past because he asked to not remember. He can talk, he just doesn't much because it's a trust thing. Cooking is his therapeutic thing, he sleeps fine, but he has a hard time going to sleep. Still has his sixth sense and ice powers, he's just more mute and out of tune with the others; guy killed in 1923 is in 2021. Great asset to the team, even though he's the guy they keep an eye on so he doesn't get to badly hurt.

I'll write more about the other ninja, this is just to show how mature this universe alteration is going to be

Oh, yeah, here's Cole's alterations. I didn't change too much of his character, but I hope you guys still like it😅

#ninjago #ninjago rewrite #universe alteration #war tw #character death tw #self annihilation tw #voluntary amnesia tw #seizure tw #angst and distress tw #ninjago zane

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agathaarts · 4 years

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Been tinkering around in my old Legend of Zelda AU sandbox (LoZ: Melody of Memory), figuring out how things work in this story and with everyone involved. I haven’t quite finished nailing down Ganondorf’s deal, though it’s coming soon, but for now...some rough concept ideas for LInk and Zelda, bc costume design is hard and I’m going to keep struggling with it hhhh

The story in mind primarily follows the young Link about. Zelda’s already an adult by that point, their births staggered this cycle, but Link also has access to The Big Gameplay Mechanic of this run- and thus sections of the “game” or “story” or whatever are actually playing through the memories of a younger Zelda, during her own adventuring and heroism days. Though, it’s kind of obvious, Zelda in her adult years has some....things going on.

Not sure yet, exactly if this is how it’ll go down, but Zelda and Link first meet when Zelda is trying to cure herself by seeking one of the holy springs deep in the Lost Wood, but Link- knowing that the spring is corrupted and the surrounding area has become dangerous, tries to waylay her and interrupt the ambush set up for her. He has no idea she’s important or probably even what a princess is, he just doesn’t want this nice lady to get murderized on his watch!

She’s actually quite capable, herself, and well-defended once her Sheikah guard finds her, but she’s still impressed and amused by this weird little kid wearing a Korok mask and fearlessly trying to save her.

More detailed descriptions and whatnot of both of them under the cut, but if you’ve got characters or concepts you’d like to see let me know! Otherwise this all will probably go under #loz melody of memory or something like that!

LINK - For being raised by a hodgepodge of fairies, forest spirits (basically koroks and the deku), and a literal dragon, Link is astonishingly well-socialized, even if his grasp of private property can be a bit shaky at times and he is unable to speak aloud, generally relying on simple gestures or a fairy to translate his thoughts into words. He’s imbued with a powerful sense of heroism, which is a very nice way of saying that he doesn’t always think things through before he does them, and he can be found engaging in activities such as trying to get honey out of beehives, jumping on the back of bulbos and wolves to ride them, and hanging out with the spirits who raised him. His days, before the story begins, are filled with adventure and discovery and simple pleasures, but there’s a dark pressure oncoming that he’ll have to step up to handle before long...

As an adult, he’s got some other adventures and travels going on, but we won’t get into those just yet!

Zelda - Princess, divinely touched, daughter of the Hylian King and the Sheikah warrior he fell in love with and made Queen, Zelda spends her younger years torn between worlds. To the people of Hyrule, she’s a future leader, a chosen of the Goddesses, supposedly imbued with wisdom beyond all others. To herself, though, she’s clever and quick and feels a calling to shape the world around her. A capable Sheik in training (”Sheik” is just the singular term for an unnamed Sheikah), she follows the path of the Sheikah, who basically specialize in magitech gadgetry and the refinement of other abilities. I haven’t figured out how to draw her workshop outfits yet, but given her own choices she’d probably much rather be an inventor in a shop somewhere.

Of course, when Link meets her as an adult, she is still torn between worlds- but more...literally, at this point. An attempt to seal oncoming darkness and evil away has left her stranded, trapped half in the physical realm, and half in the spirit worlds, and she is slowly losing the fight to keep herself whole, becoming corrupted with a dark malice that is slowly sapping her strength, attempting to overtake her. She barely keeps it at bay, for now, but seeks to cure herself and finish her work to seal away the evil...

...but there are things out there who are seeking to recover the power she’s used herself to seal away, and they converge and grow in audacity.

Also a little glimpse of her once she’s been freed. She’ll remain scarred for the rest of her life, but she’ll grow healthy and her hair will start to return to brown again, though it gets cut for the first time in her life as a result of her being freed because I’m a sucker for a good metaphorical “dramatic hair cut”

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blazinbeautywrites · 4 years

Text

Holiday Treat

Note: Due to the rampant uprising of plagiarism on this site and others I am stating once and once only that this is my ORIGINAL work. If I find out that you have stolen/taken any part of my work I will handle you and the situation the way I see fit.

None of the pics or gifs I use belong to me so full credit goes to the originators of said gifs and pics.

Request: 15 + 19 for a Kris Wu smut. The reader and him are having Christmas dinner with their teenage kids (son and are daughter). Kris is feeling naughty and is teasing her to have a quickie but she is hesitating at first because she thinks their teenagers might hear them or be suspicious of what they are up to

Length:1,296 words

Genre: Smut

“No underwear? You’re a dirty girl.” Kris whispered as he rubbed the inside of his wife’s thighs. He let his index finger travel to her exposed heat and was delighted to feel how wet she was. Kris wanted a quickie and hated that Eboni was denying him. Kris and Eboni have been together for 17 years and have been married for 10. He never failed to remind her how frisky he was.

“Babe the kids are in the next room, please keep your dick in your pants.” Eboni replied. She nodded towards their two 15 year old twins, Kaia and Kaden, sitting at their dining table awaiting their mom’s Christmas dinner. Eboni had a full spread. Baked macaroni, pasta, dressing, ham, sweet potatoes and an assortment of pies and cakes lined her kitchen counter. She handed Kris a basket of buttered rolls and instructed him to place it by the other food. They walked out of the kitchen and joined their kids at the dinner table.

“Alright guys phones away you know the rules.” Kris said.

“Please dad I just have to beat one more level.” Kaden said as he stared intently at his phone.

“You heard your dad. Phones away now.” Eboni reiterated. Their kids groaned and put their phones up while Kris shoveled food onto their plates. Both Kris and Eboni had to work on Christmas so they were having their Christmas dinner the night before so they could spend some time with their kids.

“I hope you two are finished your holiday packets because that little holiday party yall are trying to go to next week is out of the question.” Kris spoke. As he dove into his food, Kris slipped a hand underneath the table and slid it under Eboni’s dress.

“Jesus dad can we just have a normal dinner without you nagging us? Yes we’ve finished all of our homework.” Kaia replied. Eboni smiled knowing Kris was just messing with them. She tried to forget about the fact that Kris was playing with her slick heat.

She and Kris decided that they’ve been a little too hard on the twins so to make up for missing the holidays with them, they’d secretly bought them gifts. Kris went out and got his son a PS5, new shoes and a new phone. While Eboni, knowing Kaia wanted to be a youtuber, went out and brought her daughter a camera and other filming essentials.

“Your right. But since we won’t be here tomorrow we wanted to do something special for you guys.” Eboni said. She quickly left and returned with a few beautifully wrapped gifts. She handed her kids their gifts and watched as their faces lit up with joy and excitement.

“OH MY GOD! THANK YOU THANK THANK YOU!” Kaia and Kaden both screamed in unison. They ran and hugged both their parents then left to tinker with all of their gifts.

“I knew they’d love them. Good job fucking with them. I thought Kaia was gonna murder you the way she was glaring.” Eboni said as she grabbed some foil to wrap up her kids food for later. She sat their plates on the counter and sat back down and the table next to Kris. He looked at her with a mischievous smile and placed his hand back where it was, only this time he was free to fully indulge himself. He was rubbing her clit in a long, agonizing pace. Eboni tightly gripped her fork as she struggled to keep her moaning at bay. She was panting hard and placed her hand on top of his to make him move faster. He happily obliged and soon she was coming undone. He watched as she rested her head on the table. He enjoyed seeing his wife this way. He watched as she got up and walked in the kitchen. He followed her and watched as she hopped up on their kitchen island. She motioned for him to come to her. He obeyed and immediately pulled her off of the counter. He turned her around and bent her over the counter. He raised up her dress and admired his work.

“Mmmmm look at that pretty pussy. So fucking wet. Tell me what you want baby girl.” Kris whispered in her ear.

“I want you to fuck me.” Eboni moaned. Kris chuckled and slapped her ass, making her moan once more. He shoved three fingers inside of her and fingered her right into another orgasm. He felt her clenching and pulsating around his fingers.

“You’re so greedy for daddy’s cock.” Kris moaned into her ear. He quickly pulled his pants down and pushed himself inside of her. They both sighed, finally getting what they both craved. Kris wasted no time. He was determined to fuck her into the next day. Eboni was a moaning mess and made no efforts to be quiet. She was being fucked way too good to be bothered by her volume. Kris was pounding into her and she was loving every second of it.

“Choke me baby.” She moaned. Kris pulled her up by the hair then wrapped his large hand around her throat as he continued to fuck her. She grabbed the sides of his shirt to steady herself as he destroyed her insides.

“You like that baby? You like being fucked like a little slut don’t you? Such a DIRTY. FUCKING. GIRL.” Kris breathed as he gave her deep, hard strokes.

“Yes daddy keep fucking me like that….god I’m gonna fucking come…...SHIT!” Eboni yelled as she felt the strongest orgasm of her life. Kris let her go as he followed suit and collapsed against her. He pulled out, watching as his cum dripped from her soaking pussy. Kris adjusted himself and placed himself back inside of his pants.

“That was…...whew that was something.” Kris said as he ran his fingers through his hair. He helped Eboni stand and turned her around and kissed her. She leaned into the kiss and quickly pulled away.

“Hmmm as much as I love this, we need to put the food up and go shower. We both have a long day tomorrow.” Eboni said. She and Kris quickly put the food away and headed to their bathroom to shower together, which turned into a second round of mind blowing sex.

___________

The next morning, Eboni and Kris awoke to the smell of eggs, bacon and coffee. They walked into the kitchen to see Kaia at the island plating food and pouring 2 cups of coffee.

“Smells good sweetie. What’s the occasion?” Eboni asked.

“Oh well you know it’s Christmas. Plus I assumed you both worked up quite an appetite after your extreme love making last night.” Kaia said. She gave her parents a knowing look and walked away.

“So you heard us? I’m so sorry.” Eboni was beyond mortified, though she knew she was loud but she was in the moment she gave no fucks.

“How could I not? You were screaming like a damn banshee. Anyways, I don’t care what you guys do but please, next time yall decide to have sex where we eat, please at least send us away for the night.” And with that Kaia left them to their breakfast. Eboni looked at Kris in shame and Kris bust out laughing.

“Kris this shit isn’t funny! We’ve scarred our children.” Eboni said as she hid her face in her hands.

“Oh they’ll be okay, they're tough. Plus, we can just bribe them. I already know Kaia is gonna scam a car out of us.” Kris said.

“Oh god.” Eboni said, taking a sip of her coffee. She was ashamed but she definitely didn’t regret the mind blowing orgams she had. Oh well. Like Kris said, the kids will be alright.

#kris wu #wu yifan #khh #kr&b #kris wu scenarios #wu yifan scenarios #khh scenarios #kr&b scenarios

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lochrannn · 3 years

Text

AU-gust: Mama, didn’t mean to make you cry

Read on AO3

prompt no 11: Summer Camp

Characters: Lila Pitt, Diego Hargreeves, Number Five Hargreeves

Relationship: Lila Pitts/Diego Hargreeves

Diego has asked her twice whether she’d like to help out with the summer holiday programme that he’s set up at his gym for inner city kids whose parents haven’t got the means or availability to send them off to camp, but Lila just waffled a half-answer that boiled down to “no thanks” and he hasn’t asked her again.

It’s not like she doesn’t support the idea. She supposes it’s a nice thing to do for the kids. Diego’s definitely thriving and she’ll usually actively support anything that’ll make him happy, but he’s enjoying himself with or without her participation and when it boils down to it, Lila really doesn’t need to spend her days hanging out with a bunch of snivelling children full of tragic backstories. She’s got plenty of that herself, thank you very much.

That may not have been how she put it to Diego. Maybe the fact that she very quickly started ranting about snot-nosed brats is the reason why he hasn’t brought it up again.

Until today that is.

“Hey Lila,” Diego calls from the kitchen as she’s in the process of brushing her teeth, “can I ask for a favor?”

Lila walks out of the bathroom, mouth full of toothpaste and scrubbing away to find Diego at the kitchen table tinkering with a torch.

“Wha’ ‘ooh you nee’?” Lila asks, finding it a bit hard to articulate around the foam, but she’s sure Diego got the message.

“I… uh… I’m running a little late and I kinda need Five’s van,” he says, not looking up at her, instead concentrating on connecting two very thin looking wires, “He said I could pick it up this morning but I’ve got to get to the gym and won’t have time to swing by the Academy first.”

Then he does take his eyes off his work and instead turns them on her, big and round and shiny, the puppy dog eyes that she personally believes are an unfair tactic in any conversation and asks, “You’re not doing anything this morning, right? You wouldn’t… you know…?” he trails off, apparently hoping that he doesn’t actually have to ask, that she’ll just fill in the rest for herself.

Lila goes over to the kitchen sink to rinse her mouth out and get rid of the toothpaste and once she’s satisfied that she will be able to talk properly again she asks, brandishing her toothbrush a little menacingly at him, “So you’re asking me, on my day off, to take the bus over to the Academy, so I can get the van that your murdering, geriatric brother who walks around in a child’s body, stole off some unsuspecting handyman, even though you could all afford to buy a fucking van, and then bring it to you and what? Get the bus back home after?”

“Uh… yeah?” Diego says a bit dumbly, then rallies and offers, “I’ll make you pancakes this evening!” and when she’s still staring him down he adds, “and I’ll give you a foot rub!”

“That’s not a fair offer, Diego, those are things you like!” Lila says indignantly.

“Yeah, but so do you!” Diego shoots back with an almost sly smirk.

“Urgh!” She throws her hands up in the air, “Fine!”

When Diego gets up and wraps his arms around her, she only resists for a moment on principle and then lets him press his lips against her temple. “Thanks babe!”

“Helloooooo?!” Lila calls out as she’s walking into the big entrance hall of the Umbrella Academy mansion.

She doesn’t actually have a key, but she doesn’t need one as nobody ever bothers locking the door. Anyone who might be even a remote threat to the Academy would easily get in whether the door was locked or not.

Her voice echoes in the hall but nobody answers, so she heads to the back stairs to make her way down to the kitchen.

When she gets there she finds both the man she was looking for and also her least favourite Hargreeves sitting at the kitchen table with the newspaper and a cup of coffee.

“Mh, where are the others?” she asks without any real greeting.

“Lila, always a pleasure!” Five’s response is dripping with sarcasm.

“Yeah, fuck you too!” she shoots back. “So where are the ape man and ghost boy?”

“They’ve gone to help our stabbiest brother with his little community engagement project,” Five answers with a bit of a huff, turning a page of his paper and then giving it a straightening shake.

“Why aren’t you with them?” Lila asks, genuinely curious now.

“I don’t particularly like children.”

Lila nods almost sympathetically.

“And they usually seem to think I’m one of them, which makes me want to chew off my own foot.”

“You are one of them, though, pipsqueak!” Lila says, ruffling his hair on the way to the coffee pot to pour herself a cup. It’s a testament to how far they’ve come that all he does is swat at her but doesn’t try and impale her hand with a fork.

“Also, why am I picking the van up if one of you three stooges could have brought it over just as easily?” She’s suddenly filled with indignation.

“Klaus and Luther were already gone when Diego rang and I’m waiting for an important call from Switzerland,” Five says a bit primly and Lila has to stop herself from rolling her eyes.

“Oh, the CERN thing… And? Will we be sucked into a black hole or do you think that’s another apocalypse you can best?” Lila asks, not actually too concerned. Once you’ve dealt with enough doomsday scenarios, you become a bit desensitised.

Five shrugs. “Time will tell.”

“Right!” That’s enough playing nice with Five for one day, one of the reasons they do get on in a way is because they make sure to interact in bite sized increments, “Where are the keys, then?”

As Lila climbs out of the van she wonders how best to get the keys to Diego with the least amount of interaction with any of the screeching children on the premises.

For a moment she even considered just leaving the key in the ignition and wandering off, but she thinks Diego would throw a hissy fit. God forbid a car thief might take an interest in their stolen van.

As she comes around the side of the building she can already hear the absolute racket the group of children inside are making and a genuine shiver of apprehension runs down her spine.

But then a closer noise draws her attention and when she takes a look behind the dumpster she regrets having followed her instincts because cowering in the corner is a small child with long, dark, wavy hair that is sobbing uncontrollably.

For a second she thinks she might just hurry inside to let one of the adults know there’s a kid on her own out here, but even to her that doesn’t quite feel right, so she calls out softly, “Uh… little girl… I don’t think you should be out here.”

The girl spins around in shock and her huge, watery, brown eyes fix on Lila, almost like she’s a little bit afraid.

Then she sniffs loudly, Lila tries not to wince at the sound, and says with determination, “I’m not going back in!”

“Yeah? Why’s that?” Lila asks, approaching the child but also looking around for anyone more qualified to deal with the situation.

“Because Brad’s a dick!” she shouts as if Lila should have guessed that.

Lila has to suppress the urge to laugh at the foul language coming out of such a tiny little person, instead she says, “I don’t think you’re supposed to use words like that.”

The girl scowls at her, so Lila tries a different tactic. “What did he do?” she asks while crouching down next to the girl, who doesn’t seem to be too scared of her now.

“Don’t wanna talk about it.” the girl mumbles petulantly.

“Okay…” Lila feels entirely in over her head, but so far she hasn’t had the urge to strangle this kid, so maybe she can make it through a conversation with her.

“What’s your name?” she asks.

“Niha,” the girl answers, “What’s yours?”

“Lila,” Lila offers.

“Oh cool! You’re Lila! Coach Diego talks about you all the time!” There’s genuine excitement in the girl’s expression now and LIla is completely taken aback.

“He does?!” she asks, her voice maybe just a bit shrill.

“Yeah! He says you’re one of the best fighters he knows and that it doesn’t matter that you’re a girl, that you put him on his ass all the time in training. See, Coach Diego uses bad language as well!” Niha says triumphantly, as if she’s just won some kind of argument.

“Yeah, I bet he does.” Lila is quite baffled at the glimpse she’s getting of Diego’s summer camp.

“Do you really not want to talk about what Brad did?” she then asks with as gentle a voice as possible, hoping to change the subject, as she suddenly feels a bit awkward about the idea that all of these children apparently know about her.

Niha huffs and caves in on herself again.

“He said I was dirt poor because I didn’t bring any snacks from home.” She sniffs and then blubbers on, “But that’s not even the truth, my mom just didn’t buy any for me. She doesn’t really care that much, I don’t think she really loves me!” And then the girl starts sobbing again and Lila has no idea what to do.

That’s not quite true. She knows what she’s supposed to say. She’s supposed to say ‘of course you’re mummy loves you, she probably just forgot’, but who the hell is she to tell anyone that their mum loves them?

So instead she puts her hand on the small girl's back and rubs it gently, then says, “Hey Niha, you know what? In a few years’ time you’ll be able to get a job and earn your own money and buy all the snacks you want!”

“I’m only eight!” Niha says with a bit of confusion and a bit of indignation and Lila has to admit maybe that wasn’t the best argument.

“Okay, look, I’ll buy you some snacks, okay? And Diego can bring them in for you tomorrow, how does that sound?”

“But he brings us snacks anyway!” The girl looks at her like she’s a bit of an idiot and right now Lila feels almost inclined to agree.

“But these’ll be special snacks, you little knowitall, just for you from me, alright?” Lila explains, trying to keep the exasperation out of her voice.

Niha’s eyes start shining brightly again, filling with more unshed tears and Lila hopes she’s not going to start crying again because she doesn’t think her brittle heart can take any more of that, but then something else seems to occur to the girl and she asks, nosily, “Are you Coach Diego’s wife?”

“Uhm!” Lila just makes a noise in panic and is luckily saved by the clanging sound of the metal door to the gym.

“Yo Niha, what are you doing out here? Oh, hey Lila!” Diego calls out with a surprised look on his face as he makes his way over.

Niha looks up at Lila, apparently hoping that she can explain the situation, but really, Lila is not too sure.

“Uh, she said she just needed some air, but she’s all better now, right?” Lila looks at the girl imploringly and she seems just as happy to go along with the lie.

“Well you’d better get back inside, then, we’re about to start an epic game of hide and seek!” Diego explains to the girl and it seems that was the best suggestion Niha has heard all day, because she jumps up to run over to the entrance. She just about manages to remember her manners when she calls out “Thanks!” to Lila before disappearing through the door.

Lila is still crouched on the floor, feeling a little overwhelmed.

“You okay?” Diego asks while she can hear him approach her. She doesn’t need to look at him to know that he’s frowning.

Lila just hums noncommittally, but doesn’t move. The thought of that little girl making her way through life without being sure of her mother’s love is slowly breaking her heart.

“What’s up?” Diego tries again, as he reaches her.

She still doesn’t answer and when a tear rolls down her cheek, she feels Diego’s hand wrap around her arm and he pulls her to her feet before enveloping her in a tight hug.

She wraps her arms around his waist, to squeeze against him even more tightly and presses her face into his chest, hoping she can hide the fact that she’s crying. If not from Diego, then at least from the rest of the world.

He doesn’t ask her about it, at this point he knows she won’t talk until she’s ready to, instead he just holds on to her, stroking her hair gently with one hand until she feels no more brimming tears and she pulls away.

He does keep his hand at the back of her head though as he stoops a little to look her straight in the eyes. “You good?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Lila says, a bit embarrassed about her sudden mild breakdown.

“You wanna come inside?” Diego asks with a soft smile that never fails to make something flutter in her chest and she feels at least a bit better.

“Nah, I’m good!” she says, voice more steady now.

“You sure?” Diego tries to make certain as he rights himself and lets his hand drop from her head to take her own with it instead.

“Yes, definitely,” Lila squeezes his hand to reassure him. “Don’t have the time, anyway. I’ve gotta go to the supermarket and buy some snacks!”

#au_gust_2021 #fanfic #tua #the umbrella academy #diego hargreeves #lila pitts #dielila #diego x lila #diego/lila #five hargreeves #lochrannn lxd au challenge

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slytherinbarnes · 4 years

Text

Sub Rosa [9]

ix. unity day

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: Language, drinking, violence/fighting, implied character death, sad things.

Summary: Unity Day welcomes an ironic twist, when a meeting with the Grounders results in everything except unity.

a/n: happy show day bbs. let’s pretend everything is okay, and just watch this cute smiley gif of Bellamy that I made for this chapter bc he is baby and I love him! also, yes, the taglist for this series is OPEN! also also, yes all of your sweet comments and reblogs DO make me scream with happiness, so thank you!

previous chapter // season masterlist // series masterlist

You drop down from your perch in your tree, where you spent the better half of the morning watching the Unity Day celebrations from above. As your feet hit the ground, you meander over to the crowd gathered to watch Jaha’s speech, catching the end. “To our sons and daughters on Earth listening to this message, we will see you soon. The first Exodus ship will launch in under sixty hours, carrying you the reinforcements that you need, so stay strong. Help is on the way.”

You roll your eyes as he finishes, before the Unity Day pageant begins. You watch in relative interest, as the crowd around you thins in favor of the Unity Juice that Jasper is passing around. You move closer to the screen as the story of the Ark is told, and you feel someone come up beside you. You know it’s Clarke before she even opens her mouth. “Unity Day right?”

You scoff, catching onto her tone. “We all know the history of the Ark. Refusing to acknowledge the violence doesn’t erase the fact that it happened.” You turn to look at her, shrugging. “Besides, I never got to enjoy it like you guys did. I was always locked up, forced to listen to the celebrations over the speakers.”

She says nothing, and instead turns to watch the pageant. As the story continues, there’s a strange sound before the comms cut out, leaving nothing behind but static. You and Clarke exchange confused glances, and you mutter, “Strange.”

“I’ll keep an eye on it, who knows what’s going on up there.” She takes a breath before turning fully to face you. “I know you don’t want to talk about it, but mom will be down in two days.”

“You’re right, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I’m not saying you need to forgive her. I’m just saying that you need to be ready to deal with this, to see her and maybe work with her, even if you don’t forgive her.” She squeezes your arm, “Just think about it.”

You watch as she walks off, before you shake your head and move to the perimeter, opting instead to spend a little time on security.

Night comes quickly, and with it, the sounds of partying only grow louder. As more Unity Juice makes its way around camp, you trade out on detail, and move to check on the comms. You aren’t surprised to find Clarke already there, tinkering with the static screen. “Still dead?”

She looks up, “Yeah, there’s nothing.”

She stands up straight and looks around, and you watch her eyes catch on the partying. You smile a little, “You should join them.”

Her eyes flit to yours, surprised, and she immediately shakes her head. “Me? No. There’s still too much to do.”

“Nothing that can’t wait until morning.” You bump her shoulder with your own. “As our top medical professional and the unofficial leader of this camp, you deserve a night off.”

“I’m not the only leader. You, me, and Bellamy share that title.” She turns to you, a smirk on your face. “Maybe you should go tell him to party. Let loose with him.”

You pull a face and shake your head, “I know what you’re thinking, and no. He’s an ass, and he’s not my type.”

She laughs, and you smile at the sound. “How would you know your type? You were-”

She cuts herself off, expression dropping, looking uncomfortable. You laugh and turn to her, “I was locked up. It’s okay Clarke, you can say it. It’s not like it isn’t the truth.”

When she stays quiet, you grab her hand. “C’mon, we’re gonna go get a drink together, AND just to appease you, I’ll bring one to Bellamy.”

Her grin splits her face, and she wiggles her eyebrows suggestively. “Really? Ooooo.”

You roll your eyes and lead her to the fire in the middle of camp, picking up two cups of juice, handing one to your twin. You turn to face each other, and your mouth lifts in a smile. “To the stars.”

Her smile matches yours, “To the moon.”

You both tap the cups together before swallowing the juice quickly, urging it past your tongue and down your throat before you can think about the taste. You scrunch your nose as you feel it trace a path through your body, and you smile when you find Clarke’s expression matching your own. You both laugh and you have to control the feeling spreading through your body, a mixture of pure joy and a nostalgia for something you’ve never gotten to experience before. Going to a party with your twin sister.

She pulls you from your thoughts by lifting two cups to your face, a smirk hidden behind her neutral expression. “Appease me.”

You grab the cups with an eye roll and scan the camp for Bellamy, finding him quickly near the edge of the party, watching everything with a smile on his face. Your stomach flips, and you tell yourself it’s the Unity Juice. You head towards him, turning to glance at your sister, who is full blown laughing now. You shake your head and turn back, coming to a stop in front of Bellamy. He smiles, “Best Unity Day ever.”

He lifts the apple in his hand to take a bite, as you lift the drink to him. He takes it with his empty hand, and glances down at the other cup in your hand. “Didn’t know you were the type to let loose.”

A laugh blows past your lips, “Never really had the chance before this.”

His smile drops a fraction of an inch, and you regret being the reason why. His eyes find the Ark in the sky. “Your mother comes down in two days. You ready to face her?” His eyes drop and lock with yours, “You ready to forgive her?”

“I don’t want to talk about my mother.” You lift your glass and give him a one sided cheers, before draining it in a single gulp. When you lower the cup, you can see mischief glinting in his eyes.

“Well I guess that’s that then.” And then he lifts his glass to do the same.

You don’t know how long it’s been when Clarke finds you and Bellamy, plopped beside each other, side by side, laughing. “Hey Clarke, are-”

You lift your eyes to greet her, cutting yourself off when you see her face, expression etched with that serious look she gets. “I need to talk to you.” Her eyes shift from yours to Bellamy. “Both of you.”

You stand, a little uneasy on your feet, and you feel Bellamy shift onto his feet beside you. “What’s wrong?”

��Finn's set up a meeting with the Grounders. I'm leaving to go talk to them.”

You rear back in shock, and Bellamy stills beside you, voice coming out in a quiet angry way that scares you a little. “Because you think that impaling people on spears is code for ‘let's be friends’? Have you lost your damn mind?”

“Bellamy is right, Clarke.”

She shrugs, “I think it might be worth a shot. I mean, we do have to live with these people.”

“They'll probably gut you, string you up as a warning.”

Her voice drops, “Well, that's why I'm here. I need you both to follow us, be our backup.”

You think about Finn, and all his anti violence rhetoric. “Does Finn know about this?”

She turns to you, “Finn doesn't need to know.” She grabs your hand, giving you a serious look. “And bring guns.”

You nod your head and squeeze her hand. “Be careful.”

She squeezes back and walks away, leaving you and Bellamy to make a beeline for the weapons tent. When you both step inside, Jasper and Raven are already there, lost in conversation. Bellamy starts talking as soon as he sees them. “Jasper, you're coming with me.”

“I am?”

You lift a gun and hand it to Bellamy, who passes it to Jasper. “You handled yourself well in the cave with the Grounder.”

“I mean, I hit him in the head.”

You step over to the bullets and start grabbing some, but Raven puts her hand on your arm to stop you. “If you're planning on shooting anything, you better think twice. I haven't checked those yet.”

You shrug her off, “Then give me some bullets that work.”

“What do you need them for?”

You say nothing, and turn to look at Bellamy, who just shrugs in response. You turn back to her and give her a glare. “Your boyfriend's being an idiot. And has now dragged my twin into his idiocy.”

You see her face drop, and regret mentioning Clarke, just a little. She hands you a few magazines full of bullets. “I'm coming with you.”

You shrug, “We can always use one more.”

You turn and hand some of the bullets to Bellamy before you both exit the tent, Raven and Jasper right behind you. Bellamy nudges your arm and then points, and you follow his finger and see Clarke and Finn ducking out of camp. You turn to Bellamy and nod, letting him take point before you follow, the other recruits hot on your heels.

Most of the hike is spent in silence, trying to keep Finn from hearing the group following behind them. Night bleeds into day, and you feel yourself growing sober with every step you take. You never thought you’d miss Unity Juice, yet here you are. As the terrain slopes down, Finn and Clarke stay level as your group goes down below. Eventually the trees open up over a small creek and a bridge, and you can see Clarke and Finn standing side by side, with...Octavia.

Your brows lift in surprise, and Jasper whispers, “What's Octavia doing here?”

You all watch as the Grounder from before runs across the bridge, catching Octavia in a hug as she flings himself into his arms. You nod, your earlier suspicions now proven correct, as Raven reaches the same one. “I guess we know how he got away.”

Beside you, Bellamy tenses, and you reach out to put a hand on his arm. He turns towards you and his eyes soften a bit, before you give him a small smile and a nod. He nods in return and you both turn back to the scene, watching as the Grounder angrily eyes Clarke, and she shifts back and forth, nervous. You feel your fingers tense around your gun, but before you can react, Finn reaches out and grabs Clarke’s hand. You turn and look at Raven, her face fallen, and realize how stupid you were for directing your anger at her on behalf of Clarke. Because Finn is clearly the problem.

You turn back to the bridge, watching as three horses emerge from the shadows, and a woman slides off one of the horses and makes her way towards Clarke, who is now walking to the center of the bridge, alone. You watch through your scope, trying to make out what they’re saying, but unable to. All you can see is the anger on the Grounder woman’s face. Raven says as much. “Grounder Princess looks pissed.”

Behind you, Jasper mutters, “Oh, no. No. This is bad.”

Bellamy spins towards him, and you watch as Jasper lifts his scope to the sky. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“There’s Grounders in the trees.”

“What?”

“Where?”

“Are you sure?”

You all lift your guns and look around, scanning the trees nervously. You lower your gun when you don’t see anything, and turn to give Bellamy a concerned look. “I don't see anything.”

“They're gonna shoot!” And before any of you can stop him, he jumps from behind the treeline, screaming, “Clarke, run! Run!”

He lifts his gun and immediately starts firing, and you watch as a Grounder falls from a tree. You lift your gun and turn towards the Grounder woman, aiming as she pulls a knife from her sleeve. You pull the trigger and fire a single bullet, watching as it catches her in the shoulder. Clarke turns to look at you, scared, her eyes locked on yours. You nod once, and then turn back to the trees, firing as Raven yells behind you, “Go, go, go!”

You and Bellamy cover them as they run back into the woods, and you watch in relief as Clarke, Finn, and Octavia slip behind the trees, heading into safer territory.

You and Bellamy turn and leave, covering each other, sprinting up the hill and meeting up with the others as you tear through the trees, ignoring the branches that tear and scratch you. You run until the sun drops from the sky and the walls of the camp come into view, and only then do you all stop, doubling over to catch your breath.

You look around at the others, and your eyes land on Finn, who is leveling a glare at Clarke. If looks could kill. You step closer to him, brushing past Bellamy to glare right back. “You got something to say?”

Finn stands tall, still looking at Clarke, voice loud. “Yeah. I told you, no guns!”

She steps beside you, radiating anger. “I told you we couldn't trust the Grounders! I was right.”

Raven cuts in right after, exasperated. “Why didn't you tell me what you were up to?”

He spins towards her, “I tried, but you were too busy making bullets for your gun!”

Bellamy jumps to Raven’s defense, “You're lucky she brought that! They came there to kill you, Finn.”

“You don't know that! Jasper fired the first shot!”

Octavia glares at Jasper, “You ruined everything.”

“I saved you! You're welcome.”

Octavia storms off and Jasper follows, clearly upset. Finn turns back to Clarke, “Well, if we weren't at war already, we sure as hell are now. You didn't have to trust the Grounders. You just had to trust me.”

Finn storms off into the camp, with Raven right behind, calling his name. You, Clarke, and Bellamy exchange glances, thinking the same thing. He turns to you, shaking his head. “Like I said, best Unity Day ever.”

Behind you, a loud sound rips through the air, and you all turn to look at the sky, watching as a bright light races across it. Bellamy muses, “The Exodus ship? Your mom's early.”

Clarke lets out a laugh and you feel your skin pull tight with anxious energy. But as you all watch the ship, her smile fades. “Wait. Too fast. No parachute? Something's wrong.”

And as soon as she gets the words out, the ship disappears behind a range of mountains. Seconds later, a bright light flashes through the sky, followed by an explosion. You jolt back as if the explosion hit you, mouth dropping open in shock. Beside you, Clarke shifts, and then stumbles, dropping to her knees, a choked sob escaping her throat. You drop down beside her, wrapping your arms around her as she sobs, crying out for the only parent you both had left.

You feel Bellamy lower down behind you, placing a strong hand on your shoulder and Clarke’s. Later you’ll wonder when things changed between you and him, when your mutual hatred started to ebb. Whether it was gradual, or all at once. Whether it was ever really hatred at all, or just misplaced anger. But for now, you hold your twin close, comforting her as she cries for your mother.

It’s hours later before you pull yourself up into your tree, and allow yourself to think about her. And just as you start to get lost in thought, a voice drifts up from below. “Anyone home?”

“Yes.”

“Can I come up?”

You hesitate for a moment. “Yes.”

You wait and listen, the sound of boots scraping against bark and grunts as he pulls himself higher. And then, a dark head of hair pops into view, followed by a face full of freckles, cheeks pink from exertion. He pulls himself up beside you and leans heavily against the trunk, catching his breath. You hide a smile and let your gaze lift to the stars, watching as the Ark blinks across the sky. Bellamy lets out a breath, and then, “You couldn’t have picked a lower branch?”

You breathe out a laugh, and glance over at him, watching as his eyes scan your face. You blush and look back up. “Better view up here.”

“You’re fond of the sky.”

You smile, and turn to look at him. “Because of my dad. He used to teach me the constellations, tell me all the stories, answer every question I had. It was our thing. Everything else was Clarke’s thing. But this,” you glance at the sky again, “This was all mine.”

You sigh, look down and pick at your nails. You can still feel Bellamy’s gaze heavy on your face. “I spent my entire life eclipsed by her. Weird to think that now she’s all I have left.”

You feel tears start to well up in your eyes, and Bellamy shifts closer, putting his hand on your knee. “I thought I wanted her dead. But now that she is…” You glance at him, remembering his mom. “I know that’s selfish. Your mom was taken from you and I wished mine away. But I was so angry. Angry that she turned in my father, angry that she took the only person that really understood me. Because, despite being a twin, I knew they favored her more. Clarke was better behaved, so she was chosen to see the Ark, be in the open. Clarke got the best grades, top choice for an apprenticeship, the undying favor of our mother. And I got a mother that always seemed ashamed of her secret.”

You fall silent, letting the anger squish out the sadness, until none of it remains. Bellamy takes a breath and his voice is quiet when he says, “You’re allowed to feel conflicted, you know. She was your mom, who, despite everything, kept you a secret until you were born because she didn’t want to give you up. And she gave up your father, for whatever her reasons were, and you’re allowed to be angry about that too. But don’t let that anger poison you and your relationship with your sister.” His voice drops softer, “Trust me.”

You look over at him, and his hand squeezes your knee. “You are not Clarke, and that is a good thing. You always talk about how bright she shines, but the stars don’t light up the darkness like the moon can. The stars don’t control the tide. The stars are important, but the moon is our guiding light.”

You feel tears squeeze your throat for a different reason, but you swallow them back down, whispering a quiet, “Thank you.”

He nods and you both fall into silence, shifting your gaze from Bellamy, to the guiding light that sits high in the sky.

next chapter

#bellamy blake x reader #bellamy x reader #bellamy blake fanfiction #bellamy blake x you #the 100 #the 100 fanfiction #bellamy blake x y/n

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yandere-society · 5 years

Text

Day 10 | Home For Christmas

Synopsis: The two new hot guys next door are super friendly and very helpful! Especially since you’ve injured your leg and now are forced to prance around in your wheelchair. They came over to your house, put up decorations, helped you bake and kept you company when you couldn’t be home for Christmas. Although now that you think about it, they’re a little too friendly…to the point you can’t tell them no.

The 12 Days of Black Christmas Event Masterlist

Pairing: Namhope x Female Reader

Admin: @roses-ruby

Trigger warnings: Yandere themes, Obsessive behavior, Murder, Physical abuse, kidnapping

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

🎶You can plan on me

Please have snow and mistletoe

And presents on the tree🎶

“Oop, let me get that for you-”

Your outstretched hand stops midair, head turning to face the tall dimpled man on your left. He smiled at you fondly and you felt your cheeks warming.

“Thank you.” You say, pushing yourself back to make room for his long legs. Namjoon shifts, taking the red ornament out of your hand, and placing it on a high branch. You watch silently as he tinkers with the small toy stockings, humming along to Crosby’s I’ll be home for Christmas which continually rung throughout the house from your mom’s old record player on the back shelf. Suddenly, he makes eye contact with you again, his eyes turning into little crescents as his mouth stretches, leaving you blushing and turning away. It wasn’t something you could help.

Since the first time you laid eyes on him, you’ve always thought he was so freaking hot. Speaking of hotties-

“Alright, the pie is done!” A shout comes from behind you, making you turn your head as the wheels of your chair rotate back. A man with a heart-shaped smile and eyes brighter than the sun steps out of the kitchen in his pink frilly apron, setting down the holiday pie on the table directly in front. One whiff of the sweet desert has your mouth watering in delight.

“It smells delicious, Hoseok! You both are so kind…thank you for everything.”

Said man laughs, the melodious sound echoing the walls along with the music, “Nonsense, we’re always here to help.”

“Exactly, that’s what neighbors are for.” Namjoon chirped, walking over to where Hoseok stood. He took a glance at the pie and then poked the top, immediately being reprimanded by Hoseok’s oven mitt hand.

“Don’t do that, you’ll ruin it.”

Namjoon retracts his hand, resembling a kicked puppy, “I just thought it looked cool. You don’t have to be so mean.”

“Well maybe I wouldn’t be if you didn’t just drop the eggnog on yourself this morning, while standing completely still.”

“Hey! That was an accident!”

You gaze in confusion as the men began to argue, an amused sigh leaving your lips.

Namjoon and Hoseok were the two sexy guys from next door, helping you around the house while you sat there helpless with a broken leg, as well as your lovely new best friends. They had moved into the apartment next door back in July, before the start of the fall semester. It was a breath of fresh air honestly, as your last neighbor was a cranky old lady with way too many mean cats. You weren’t sure what happened to her, but you weren’t complaining once you ran into Joon in the hallway as he carried large boxes into his apartment.

His muscles ripped through his loose grey tank top and his arm flexed while he lugged the heavy load. He was tall, jacked, smart, kind and very dorky. You almost fell in love at first sight. Then there was his sun in human form roommate, Hoseok. Now, Hoseok may not have been as giant or as muscular as Namjoon, but his bright personality, social nature and lethal moves did not lose to anyone. Millions of women would become wet in a matter of seconds from the way he twisted his hips. Millions more at Namjoon’s deep honey voice.

You were blessed to have such hotties living next door.

Because of their approachable nature, they befriended you very quickly. It went from small talks in the hallway to long conversations as you rested on your couch. From shy glances here and there a few times a week to seeing one another daily. They had practically moved in. Their shoes were always in your house, you had bought them their own pair of toothbrushes for your bathroom and they even had a small section of their clothes in your closet. You all even started heading to classes together.

Of course, you had lusted for them in the beginning. Sometime their gazes were intense, and it seemed like they were eye-fucking you. Other times they seemed to get very jealous if you had anyone else in your apartment or if you went anywhere without telling them. But you knew it was all in your imagination. It’s not their fault if they just couldn’t help but ooze sex appeal which made you imagine the two hot guys next door – your best friends – being obsessed with you. As of now you were fine with the wonderful friendship you were able to build with them. Better off as friends as they say.

You had been quite lonely when you moved into the big city, away from your family who you were always close to. Your dad had warned you about the many dangers of the city so you made sure to stay safe and away from those who could wish you harm. Joon and Hoseok were the first people that made you open yourself up and for that you were grateful. It was very fun to spend your days being tutored by Namjoon or laughing at Hoseok. Though you still longed for your family when the holiday season arrived. Sadly, as you were making plans to visit home, someone had decided to push you down the University’s stairs which resulted in a horribly broken leg bone and a laggy wheelchair.

No one saw who did it.

Unable to fly, you were stuck in your small apartment for all of the festive season. The first night you had cried a lot on the phone with your mother, but your amazing best friends had barged in and promised to make this the best Christmas you’ve ever had right here in the apartment. They were so serious about it, they hadn’t let you leave the place even for a bit. Decorations, entertainment, food, they had it all planned out and thanks to them, you were able to have one of the merriest Christmas eve’s of your life.

🎶Christmas Eve will find me

Where the love light gleams🎶

The music from the record player wakes you from your daze, your eyes once again concentrating on the two bickering men in front of the dinner table.

With a smile, you turn back around to the pine tree, to see it filled with many kinds of decorations and ornaments. Yet it was still missing something. A small pout forms on your lips as you recall the weeping phone conversation you had with your mother. You had told her to send your favorite ornament – a small marbled turtle dove, over to your place so you had something from home you could cherish this year. It was a keepsake from your childhood and had many memories attached to it. Tomorrow was Christmas and you wondered why it hadn’t arrived already.

Maybe the front desk has it?

It wasn’t like you could call them, phone reception in your apartment had been getting worse and worse for some reason. With a sigh, you rotate back around to see Namjoon and Hoseok arguing about the dinner plates. If you use the elevator, you could rush downstairs, inquire about any packages and rush back upstairs without either of them noticing,

Nodding to yourself, you wheel your chair to the front door. You quietly pull open the door as Joon and Hobi’s voices and I’ll be home for Christmas continue to surround the background. With a few swift moves, you were in the hallway, heading for the elevator.

For some reason you felt uneasy. The same feeling you got before you were pushed down the stairs. You stopped in front of the lift, pressing the button and waiting anxiously for its arrival. The door of the elevator opened quickly to your relief and as soon as you were about to roll in-

-a deafening scream of your name pierces through the quiet hallway and startles you.

Immediately you were being pulled away from the elevator, pushed back into the hallway you came from and shoved inside your apartment as the door banged shut behind you. It was deathly lull, all you could hear was your heavy breathing even though you hadn’t moved an inch and the old Christmas song still repeating. Slowly you turn around to face the entrance and were met by the raging scowls of Namjoon and Hoseok.

A chill runs down your spine at the fury in their eyes.

“W-w-wha-”

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Hoseok growls, and you gasp at the venom in his tone. This was not the cheerful, loving Hoseok you knew.

“Seriously ___,” Namjoon groans, voice slightly tamer than Hoseok’s, “How could you leave the second we weren’t looking?”

“N-no I-”

“This is your fault.” Joon spits at Hoseok “I told you to break both of her legs so she couldn’t move at all.”

Your jaw hangs open.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I kill the old lady, I push ___ down the stairs, I set up that complicated ass box that blocks the cell signals and what do YOU do exactly?’

All the information was speeding around your brain and you could feel yourself choking up. Did he just say kill?

“You’re the one who wanted to do all that! Always fucking criticizing me for being clumsy and shit- fuck, I plan, YOU execute, remember?”

As they begin to argue once again, you start shaking in your seat. Murderers. Not only did you befriend the people who were responsible for your broken leg, but you had let actual murderers into your home. Suddenly everything started to make sense. Your neighbor lady suddenly disappearing. You always running into them whether in your complex, university or even the store. In fact, you always felt they were a bit too pushy with their help, but you didn’t want to be mean. The over-friendly skin ship and how they constantly made you feel guilty until you blocked all the other people from your life. How they pushed themselves and their belongings into your apartment.

How they made your home their home.

Holy shit…shitshitshit what were you going to do now? Who could you call? Where would you go with this broken leg? How would you escape? They could do whatever they want to you and they knew it.

“-__?...___!” The sound of your name jolts you. Hoseok sits on his knees, eye level with you as Joon sits beside him, equally concerned. “___, are you alright?”

This…this was the Hoseok and Namjoon you know. The ones who infiltrated your life with their handsome faces and kind personalities. When you don’t answer him, he cups your face causing you to stiffen.

“Hey don’t worry. I know we argued a lot, but it’s fine now. Since you’re here…since we have you…just don’t leave us again.” He states gently, tilting his head to the side like an insane person. “Instead, why don’t we go eat that pie, hmm?”

You could feel your pupils shaking as you look into his bottomless orbs. Though you were in your own home, you have never been more afraid.

“He’s right you know.”

You turn to Namjoon beside him who places his hand above your limp one. The very first tear drops out of your socket as you find him smiling. How you wish you could have found the sinister reality of his dimpled smile those thousand times he’s shown it to you before.

“We have you and you have us. So, if you leave us like that again, we’ll be very upset…we may lose our temper and who knows what we would do…just…You should stay home for Christmas, alright?”

And as soon as he says that the stupid never-ending song repeats its end once more.

🎶I'll be home for Christmas

If only in my dreams🎶

#bts #namjoon #jhope #hoseok #yandere bts #yandere namjoon #yandere jhope #yandere hoseok #rm #yandere rm #bts x reader #yandere x reader

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raccoonhearteyes · 4 years

Text

Clarke vs. The Hot Customer

Meanwhile in DC, CIA Agent Lexa Woods and NSA Agent Anya Forrest sit across the desk with Homeland Security General Indra Beckman.

Beckman starts, “Last night at 18:00, CIA operative Costia Daniels was killed in action. Before her death, she sent the entire Intersect Project to a civilian, a top-secret mission known only among those with the highest clearance in the CIA. The project consisted of every CIA mission and intel since the CIA’s founding in 1947. All contained in a supercomputer. The goal was for the intel to be downloaded into the human brain. While it has yet to be tested, it would give the agency’s top agents every piece of information necessary to complete their missions, without having to read every file, look through every photo, and analyze every document. This project is now in the inbox of one Clarke Griffin. As I’m sure you can guess, this is not ideal. The recipient’s unsecured g-mail means that every terrorist and their mother can track who it went to. And they will go after them without hesitation in order to get their hands on our intelligence.”

“Why did she send it to a civilian instead of a CIA contact?” Anya asks.

“We don’t know. As far as we can tell, she’s just some random college dropout. She works at a Buy-More. Your job is to find Clarke Griffin, find out what she knows, and download the e-mail yourselves so our nation’s secrets are not floating around in the head of some idiot civilian.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Clarke wakes up on her bedroom floor to the blaring alarm on her nightstand. She’s groggy, and doesn’t quite remember why she apparently passed out on the floor instead of changing into pajamas and climbing into her bed.

Slowly, the memories of last night trickle in. She remembers a hot pocket, going to her room to play video games, and… an e-mail from Costia? That can’t be right. They haven’t spoken in years… But she distinctly remembers getting an e-mail from her, then a bunch of weird pictures, and that’s it.

She goes over to her computer to try and reread the email, but the thing won’t turn on. It seems to be fried from the inside. “Great, so not only did Costia ruin my life, she sent me a computer virus that destroyed my computer?” Clarke wonders.

Clarke’s still a little woozy from the unending strobe light of incomprehensible images her brain was exposed to the night before, so she skips breakfast, and thanks her past self for not even changing out of her work clothes so she can just walk right out the door and head to the Buy-More.

Raven is sitting at the Nerd Herd help desk waiting for her.

“You never logged on to LoL last night,” Raven complains. “Yeah, I got a weird e-mail from Costia and it torpedoed my computer.”

“I’m sorry what? Costia? Costia Daniels? The one that ruined your life and got you stuck working at a Buy-More with me?”

“The one and only.”

“What did she want?”

“I don’t know. It was a weird e-mail. It spazzed through a bunch of images and then fried my hard drive.”

“What a bitch.” “Yup.”

It’s a slow day at the Buy-More so Raven and Clarke spend most of the day chit chatting about nothing, planning their next video game all-nighter, and talking about starting their own electronics company to beat out the Buy-More. It’s an idea they’ve talked about for years, but is nothing more than a pipe dream. Neither of them have the capital to get that thing off the ground. No matter how many engineering degrees Raven collects. Eventually they fall into a game of “Guess what that customer is thinking.”

“I am going to hoard this for when the nuclear apocalypse hits us and toilet paper is scarce,” Raven says about the guy with 100 rolls of toilet paper and nothing else in his cart.

“I need a copy of Die Hard for every TV in my house,” Clarke gruffs about the old many with 8 copies of Die Hard in his basket.

The two are so enthralled in their game that they hardly notice a customer approach the help desk.

In a high-pitched valley girl voice, Clarke says, “I’m getting this video camera so I can finally make a sex tape with my boyfriend!” Raven laughs way harder than Clarke thinks the joke earned, but then the customer clears her throat and Clarke whirls around. The customer raises her eyebrows in surprise.

“Um… I… did you? That wasn’t… Hi, welcome to the Nerd Herd. How can I help you?”

Clarke chokes on her tongue a little when she realizes just how beautiful the customer is. She’s wearing tight fitting jeans, a tank top, and an unbuttoned flannel over her shirt. Clarke’s gaydar lightly pings in the back of her mind. Her hair is a mane of curly brown locks. She has a pair of sunglasses perched on the top of her head, and the greenest eyes Clarke has ever seen. When her gaze flicks back up to make eye contact, there’s something… intense about the way this girl looks at her.

“I’ve been having phone troubles. It doesn’t seem to be receiving calls.”

“Can I have a name for the intake form?”

“Lexa.”

“Well Lexa, I’ll see what I can do.”

Clarke fiddles around with the phone, looking for external damage or immediately obvious reasons for malfunction. When she finds nothing evident, she tells Lexa, “It must be something internal, I’ll take it to the back and see what’s going on. Come back in about an hour, and it should be all set.”

“That sounds perfect. Thank you…” Lexa pauses waiting for a name

“Clarke.”

“Thank you, Clarke. I’ll see you in an hour.”

As Lexa turns to walk away, Clarke stares at her ass and says a quiet, “Bye Lexa.”

“HEY CLARKE! You telling this customer goodbye or are you announcing that you’re bi?” Raven says a little too loudly for it to not be intentional.

Lexa turns to flash a smile at Clarke, and Clarke turns to Raven and says, “Reyes, I will kill you in your sleep.”

An hour spent tinkering in the repair shop, and the phone is back to fully functional. Clarke waits at the help desk for Lexa to return. This time she ensures that she’s not mid-game so she doesn’t embarrass herself a second time in front of this customer. She most certainly notices when Lexa walks into the store. This time, the flannel is tied around her waist and Clarke stares at the tattoo curling around her bicep. Then she stares at the biceps themselves and considers tracing the lines with her tongue. Scolding herself for being just as big of a perv as fellow Nerd Herders Jasper and Monty, she smiles and pointedly does not stray from making eye contact. Lexa is less successful as she sneaks a peek down Clarke’s shirt that may have one or two fewer buttons done up this time around.

“What’s the verdict doc?” Lexa asks, leaning into Clarke’s space at the counter.

“All fixed,” Clarke smiles.

“How do I know it works?”

Clarke grins, “Aha, watch this.”

She digs her own phone out of her pocket and dials a number. She waits a few seconds until the phone in Lexa’s hand starts to vibrate and “NERD HERD HOTTIE” pops up on the screen.

“See? Good as new”

“Thank you, Clarke. I really appreciate it,” Lexa says, and turns to leave the store. Clarke’s bubble of hope pops as she watches her walk away. But then, after a few steps, Lexa picks up her phone, scrolls through a screen and lifts the phone to her ear.

A few feet behind her, Clarke’s phone buzzes on the counter. She answers.

“Do you want to get dinner tonight?” Lexa asks.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They agree to meet at Grounders at 7:00. Lexa arrives 15 minutes early and waits at the entrance. She’s wearing a green button up, tight grey pants, and her hair is done up in a neat braid. She has a stun gun tucked into her jacket, a knife hidden in each boot, and a blade laced within the braid. But this is supposed to look like a first date, not a mission, so she tries to make herself look nervous by shifting her weight from one leg to the other, and gets ready to flirt some information out of her mark.

Clarke steps out of an Uber at 7:06 wearing a light blue sundress that makes her look even more like a ray of sunshine. It’s a stark contrast from the unisex Nerd Herd uniform, and Lexa can’t help but give her a once over. Twice maybe thrice if she’s being completely honest. “I thought you might have changed your mind,” Lexa confesses, looking at her watch.

“Of course not! Just bad LA traffic,” Clarke replies and leads them into the restaurant.

Conversation is easy. They make each other laugh. The waitress comes over three times in 45 minutes before either of them have even glanced at the menu. Lexa assures the waitress that they do, in fact, know how to read, and a few minutes later they actually order their food. Neither can stop themselves from long looks and bashful smiles. Clarke learns that Lexa just moved to town and is still looking for the right fit job. They talk about their childhoods and interests. Eventually, they stumble on the topic of whether or not it’s weird that Lexa asked out her phone repair woman. Clarke immediately reddens at the memory of the first words Lexa heard her say. Clarke apologizes for her having to overhear the game she plays with Raven at the Buy-More.

“Speaking of which, how does a girl as beautiful and smart as you end up working for the Nerd Herd?” Lexa asks incredulously.

“That’s kind of a long story. The spark notes version is that I am one semester shy of a computer science degree at Stanford. My senior year, my former best friend and roommate Costia framed me for cheating and got me kicked out of school. No explanation. Since then I haven’t really had the drive to finish the degree. Or trust anyone. I’ve really just been surviving ever since. No sense in living when everything you loved is gone, right? Sorry, that was probably a little heavy for a first date…”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Lexa assures. The name Costia did not go unnoticed, so Lexa presses on, “What ever happened to that Costia girl?”

“The funny thing is I haven’t really thought about her in a few years, but the last two days it’s been at nagging in my mind. I actually got an e-mail from her yesterday, but all it contained was a virus that fried my computer,” Clarke shrugs.

The waiter interrupts to fill their wine glasses, and Lexa’s opportunity to press more about this e-mail vanishes as Clarke switches the subject completely, and they fall back into easy conversation, longing and somewhat thirsty looks, and grinning at each other.

Lexa pays their check while Clarke runs to the bathroom, and they have decided that 3 hours taking up this restaurant’s table is probably long enough. Yes, it’s a mission, but Lexa is genuinely enjoying talking to this girl. She’s sweet and funny, and looks damn good in that dress.

“Can I drive you home?” Lexa asks.

The drive is a comfortable silence. Lexa’s hand rests on Clarke’s knee and mindlessly draws patterns on her thigh until Clarke intertwines their fingers. The drive ends too quickly as they pull up to the complex where Clarke lives.

Lexa walks Clarke to her door. Clarke’s walk slows to a crawl, trying to prolong her time with Lexa as much as possible. But the trip from the car to the stoop is only so long, so she settles for pretending to struggle to find her keys. God she wants to kiss her. She wants to kiss her so badly she hasn’t listened to a word Lexa has said because she can’t think about anything else. Lexa pauses in front of the door, and shuffles a bit closer to Clarke.

“Goodnight, Clarke”, she says as she leans in. Clarke closes her eyes in anticipation, and then feels Lexa’s lips land just left of the mark. Lexa places a chaste kiss on the corner of Clarke’s mouth, then turns to walk away. She turns back with a wink and a wave as Clarke unlocks her front door, and melts to a puddle once she’s crossed the threshold.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lexa paces outside the front of the Buy-More while on the phone with the General. “Beckman, she’s just a normal girl. She hasn’t done anything wrong. I don’t even think the e-mail made it to her. She said she hasn’t heard from Costia since college!” “Agent Woods, Daniels was one of our top agents. There must be a reason she sent it to her. Now, go find out if she’s just a really good liar, or if she’s actually as innocent as you seem to think.” She hangs up without a greeting or dismissal.

Lexa tries to shake off the conversation, and walks through the Buy-More doors to go find Clarke, who at the moment is helping someone pick out a blender. Lexa pretends to be interested in a video camera and presses random buttons while waiting for Clarke to be free.

“Looking at cameras for our sex tape?” Clarke asks with a cheeky grin.

Lexa rolls her eyes and replies, “No, I was just in the neighborhood and wanted to say hi. I had fun last night.”

Clarke lights up with a goofy grin and thinks about how she didn’t kiss her last night. Clarke eyes her lips, and catches Lexa doing the same. She does a quick scan of the floor, hoping to confirm that no manager is there to catch her making out with a girl while on the clock. She’s made it almost a full 360 when it happens.

She sees a man standing in the DVD section. He doesn’t look that much different than a normal customer, but once she sees the scar on his neck, images flash before her eyes. The scar. The man’s name, and seven different aliases. A Russian Prison manifest. A rank within Russian Intelligence operations. They flash before her eyes in rapid succession, pulling the information to the forefront of her brain, and making her a little dizzy with the completely unconscious recall of information she doesn’t remember learning in the first place. The images stop and her eyes refocus

“Lexa, this is going to sound crazy, but that man in the DVDs section is a Russian spy and he

is armed to kill. Don’t ask me how I know that, I just do.”

Clarke watches Lexa’s eyes widen in alarm. “Holy shit, you downloaded it.”

“What?”

“The Intersect.” “The what?” “I have to get you out of here.”

Lexa grabs Clarke’s hand and pulls her towards the back of the store.

“Lexa, what is going on.” She doesn’t answer. Instead she goes into the breakroom, punches a series of numbers into the vending machine, and watches the machine slide to the right to reveal a passageway. Lexa pulls Clarke through, ignoring her questions and utter shock at what is going on. Clarke is led down some stairs into a conference room with screens taking up a full wall, a wall full of weapons, and a video conference call happening at the table in the center. An angry looking Asian woman sits at the table talking to the screen with a black woman with more medals on her military coat than Clarke knew existed.

Lexa interrupts their conversation with, “She’s the Intersect.”

“She what?”

“She’s the Intersect. She downloaded it. She just recognized a Russian operative upstairs.”

The other women in the room and on the screen look shocked and horrified.

“So it works?” the woman on the screen asks. “WILL SOMEONE PLEASE TELL ME WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON. WHERE AM I? WHAT IS THE INTERSECT? WHY IS THERE A SECRET BASE IN THE BUY-MORE? WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE?” Clarke yells, finally getting Lexa’s attention.

Lexa starts, “My name is Lexa Woods. I work for the CIA.”

“Anya Forrest, Colonel in the NSA.”

“And I’m General Indra Beckman, head of Homeland Security”

Clarke begins to laugh hysterically. “Did Raven put you up to this? She always goes WAY TOO BIG or way too small for pranks. Jeezus how much did she spend on this?!” She wanders the base touching weapons, poking screens, and searching for a hidden camera.

“This isn’t a joke, Miss Griffin,” Beckman interrupts.

The tone sobers Clarke immediately.

Beckman continues, “Three days ago, CIA operative Costia Daniels sent you an email. That email contained every secret the CIA has in what was called the Intersect Project. That information is now in your head. Until a new Intersect can be built, the CIA and NSA’s number one priority will be protecting you.”

“I’m sorry, what now?” Clarke asks.

“You will assist in missions as needed.”

Clarke is, again, much too stunned to grasp anything that was just said. Instead, she asks every question that has run through her mind since she thought she was about to kiss Lexa at work to the current moment. Costia was CIA? Why did she send it to me? How does it work? Can I get it removed? You’re sure this isn’t an over the top prank? Costia is dead?

Lexa, Anya, and Beckman patiently answer every question Clarke has. For the most part, they are very understanding of the barrage of questions. The questions continue for about thirty minutes, but eventually die down. This is real. Clarke will be working with the CIA. Other countries will try to find the Intersect, so she is in danger. She is now their most important asset, and they will protect her at all costs. She doesn’t really have a choice in this.

“I didn’t ask for this,” Clarke states. “We know, but your country is calling,” Beckman answers.

General Beckman hangs up the call, Anya goes back to cleaning an enormous gun, Lexa starts to organize files, and Clarke… Clarke sits at the table staring at her hands. Deep in thought, and too stunned to form coherent thoughts. After ten minutes, she takes a deep breath and addresses Lexa.

“So that date then?”

Lexa reads the implied question and answers, “Was part of my mission to find out what you knew.”

“Ah.”

“Clarke.”

“I don’t know why I thought it was anything else. No one that model hot dates a girl from the Nerd Herd. Is that like a requirement for spy work?”

Lexa cocks her head like a confused puppy.

Clarke glances between Anya and Lexa, and waggles her fingers between the two of them. “You know, the mind-blowing hotness? I mean, it works. Girl that looks like you asks me to jump off the roof and I’d probably do it without asking any follow up questions. Of course it was all fake. You’re probably straight. Really deluded myself into this one. Big yikes.”

Anya looks up from the barrel of her gun and chuffs, “Definitely not straight”

Lexa blushes but doesn’t disagree with Anya. Instead she addresses Clarke directly. “You do realize that we will need to continue dating, right?”

Clarke continues rambling to herself about being an idiot for thinking a girl like Lexa was into her, but then the content of Lexa’s question sinks in. Her brain jolts like a record scratch. “Huh?”

“It’s the perfect cover for why I’m suddenly in your life and may suddenly vanish from it. I can keep a close eye on you when you’re not at work, and it won’t seem suspicious if I stay over. During the day, Anya will work at the Buy More with you.”

Clarke still hasn’t wrapped her head around “continue dating” so instead asks, “I’m dead, right? That Russian operative in DVDs killed me and I’m bleeding out on the Buy-More floor, right? Because there is no way the US government just asked me to fake date a bombshell agent for the safety of our country.”

Anya finishes reassembling her gun, looks up at the newly christened fake couple, and says, “Believe it, babe.”

#clexa #chuck au #lexa #clarke griffin #chapter 2 #slow burn #fake dating #clexa chuck au #cia #formatting is a bitch going from word to this #anyone have recs for how its not?

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cowtale-utau · 4 years

Text

This idea has been bounced around a couple times in various convos so I decided to go ahead and do it. Here is the CT!Skele cast, but Fem.

Undertale Sans/Flush – Somehow even more reserved, but a bit softer. She’s a little more inclined to help even if it’s inconvenient, but even less like to forgive someones transgressions.

Undertale Papyrus/Gail – The peace keeper of the bunch. She’s good at soothing tempers, or matching them as needed. She tries to do things the diplomatic way, but won’t hesitate to put her foot down. She’s even slower to anger than her male version, but burns hotter.

Underfell Sans/Tinker – She still loves her mechanical shit, but is more obvious about it. She’s always tinkering with something, and has oil on her hands. More social, but holds her cards just as close to her chest. She’ll be your best friend and you’ll know nothing of substance about her.

Underfell Papyrus/Queen – Regal and haughty, a real “Queen” type. Highly demanding and expects to be catered to and obeyed. A romantic at heart but good luck ever meeting her standards. (Be nice to her in a genuine way rather than the pandering. She’s not as high maintenance as she likes to come off.)

Underswap Sans/Sprite – Plays into her “cuteness” and uses it to her advantage. She’s manipulative and cunning, but also genuinely friendly. She won’t be needlessly mean, but she always gets her way.

Underswap Papyrus/Harper - Fairly quiet and reserved, but she exudes an air of calm. She has a relaxing presence that makes it easy to open up to her. Don’t get on her bad side, she will use that vulnerability against you.

Swapfell(Red) Sans/Lash – Bad bitch supreme. She has attitude for days and demands nothing less than the best of everything. And if you won’t give it to her, she is more than capable of taking it by force.

Swapfell(Red) Papyrus/Dingo – While people do make her nervous, she also craves attention. She wants to be liked, but is afraid she will do or say the wrong thing. She overcompensates by being either overly helpful or overly stand offish.

Horrortale Sans/Charine – Fiercely protective and more accepting of her past. She did what she had to and she won’t apologize for it. She isn’t proud of it, but she won’t hide from it. She’s forgetful, but rather than brooding over it, she tries to find the humor in it. She can improv fairly well.

Horrortale Papyrus/Sousie – Reclusive and quiet, but by no means shy or nervous. She prefers to avoid large groups of people, and is slow to trust. She’d much rather spend time in her gardens than with people, but the few she does let close find her a gentle if fierce friend.

Swapfell(Purple) Sans/Dee - A working woman with her shit together. She’s always going and doing, and making sure the house/camp is in order. She somehow juggles her job and the home in ways that no one understands. Making sure everything is in order. Sassy and blunt, but compassionate.

Swapfell(Purple) Papyrus/Skate – The consummate “hot mess” party girl. Wild and uninhibited, and well known on the party scene, her initial impression is highly deceptive. Under the air headed facade, is an exceptionally clever manipulator.

Fellswap Gold Sans/Rain – Honestly doesn’t change all that much. Actually gets a little more over bearing but slightly less controlling. Wants her loved ones to do what makes them happy, but is constantly present and hovering.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus/Nefeli – Both softer and more ruthless than her male version. She’s a fierce protector of all those she takes in. And she tries to take in everyone. She presents a more emotionally stable front, but is under a lot of self-imposed pressure to right all the wrongs she perceives in the world.

Underlust Sans/Absinthe – Very similar to the male counterpart. The only real difference is rather than avoidance, she’s is outright ruthless when it comes to shutting down “suitors”. She can get cruel about it and has no care to bother being gentle with peoples feelings.

Underlust Papyrus/Versi – Unlike the ones who are “similar” Cali straight up doesn’t change. Her behavior when male was already highly andro, and that doesn’t change when she is female.

Dancetale Sans/Jazz – Quiet, a bit shy but actually somewhat excitable. If you can find a topic she loves, you can coax her out of her shell and she’ll ramble on for as long as you allow her. She just needs a little encouragement to know its safe for her to open up.

Dancetale Papyrus/Samba – Total cheerleader. But like, head cheerleader. A massive ego covering deep insecurities. Pushes everyone to be and do their best (sometimes a little too hard) while also maintaining that she is the undisputed best.

Outertale Sans/Pluto – She’s still bitter and angry, but more inclined to trying. She does go out and at least attempt to experience and appreciate the world for what it is. She’s a grumpy cuddler, and is better at not being a total hermit.

Outertale Papyrus/Venus – Level headed and supportive. She’s friendly and sociable, but hard working and driven. She has a quiet self confidence and is largely unbothered by things. She doesn’t have time to let things get her down. There is so much life to be lived instead!

Farmtale Sans/Parsley – Both more and less shitty than her male variant. She’s kinder to her family, not as hardened, while being even worse to “outsiders”. She toys with peoples feelings to get her way and has left a long trail of broken hearts behind her.

Farmtale Papyrus/Rosemary – Headstrong and hardworking. She’s always covered in soil. She enjoys working the fields and feels satisfied with every sprout. She’s not quite as tired as her male counterpart, being a bit better at balancing her work to rest ratio. She doesn’t feel the same need to suppress her emotions with work.

G!Sans/Aurelia – Just as wildly reckless and curious as her male alt. She’s always looking for the next thrill. She dives into things without considering the repercussions but is fully willing to deal with the consequences as well.

G!Papyrus/Viridiana – Studious, and exasperated, but overall pretty relaxed. She doesn’t see much point in getting worked up over things. Just don’t mess with her books. She’s obsessive about how they’re organized and will be very cross if you fuck with her system.

Fun Facts!

Versi is short for “versicolored” a call back to calico patterns on cats.

Rain was chosen to both keep to the weather theme and as a homonym to reign.

The G!Sisters got names the most similar because those are both actual names I very much like that fit well to the theme.

Jazz was almost named Twerk because it was amusing to me. I then spent way to long thinking about if a skeleton could even twerk given they have no ass.

Gail is the shortened form of “gaily” which has a similar meaning to lief.

Sousie is just ‘sous (chef)’ with a feminine ending added.

Charine is short for ‘saccharine’.

Dee is a pun on PHD.

Skate is short for cheapskate, a play on the fact that Flint is short for skinflint, someone who is stingy with money.

and also, TYSM @cathoodies for all your help with bouncing name ideas!

#Cowtale #femme skeles #full cast #fullcast #genderswap #the ladies

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pepperonyspizza · 4 years

Photo

This one is dedicated to @iloveyou3thousand and the amazing moodboard he made that you all should check out! It was the inspiration for this fic

Day 2: College AU - also posted on Ao3!

No Warnings, Pepperony, Domestic Fluff

“How is your paper coming along?” Tony ask while he makes himself comfortable on the windowsill.

He’s spent the past 20 minutes tinkering with what used to be a blender but now looks more like a torture device that could appear in one of the Saw sequels. All he tried to do was improve the thing but, as it happens with so many of his creations, he apparently did the exact opposite.

“It's nearly finished,” Pepper answers, a smirk visible on her face.

She never says anything when he’s in the middle of working, only ever watches and observes. Tony isn’t sure if she knows that any attempt at starting a conversation would be fruitless as long as his mind is focused on something else, or if she simply enjoys watching him. Whichever the case, she never tries to pull him away from his work (unless he’s set himself on fire, that is) and he loves her all the more for it.

Pepper is still smiling at him by the time Tony finally finds a comfortable enough position on the ledge, right opposite of his girlfriend with his back leaning against the wall.

“What?”

“Nothing. I’m simply wondering how you’re going to explain to Rhodey that you’ve destroyed yet another one of your kitchen utensils.” She nudges his leg with her foot. “Is there anything left that you haven’t taken apart yet?

He actually has to take a moment to think about it.

“The new microwave. I haven’t touched it unless I wanted to use it for its intended purpose.”

Granted, he’s nearly gotten both himself and Rhodey expelled by blowing up the old one and caused the entire building to be evacuated. That was the day he had to promise Rhodey to stop indulging in his more daring ideas.

“Rhodey is finally learning how to keep you under control,” Pepper muses, causing a grin much like her own to spread across Tony’s face.

“Yeah, he’s good at that,” he admits before pushing himself off the wall and crawling towards her on his hands and knees, only stopping when his face is inches away from her own. Pepper tilts her head, watching him curiously. “But not as good as you are.”

He’s told her so countless times before and it must have gotten to the point where it is boring to hear him say it - but Tony loves her laugh. No matter how angry or upset he is, all it takes is Pepper and her good mood to lift his own spirit. He was reluctant to tell her that much, afraid that he’d come across as too cliché, at least until she admitted that she felt the exact same thing.

“No one is,” she says and there is no arrogance behind her words.

She’s simply stating a fact, one he has no problem admitting to being correct. By now, most of his friends know so as well. Pepper can keep him in check better than anyone, probably because she doesn’t do it unless she deems it truly necessary - which most often means that she’s scared he’s going to hurt himself.

It’s hard to get angry at someone when they only have your best interest in mind.

“Hey.” Pepper’s hand in his hair pulls him out of his thoughts. He’s still only inches apart from her and this close, he can see just how blue her eyes are. Even with the sun already beginning to disappear, Tony sees. He also sees the amusement in them. “Where are you?” “Right here.”

His whispered reply gets rewarded with a soft kiss. Just like it’s the case with her laugh, he loves her kisses, could spend all day doing nothing but kissing her over and over again until their lips hurt. Sadly, Pepper never agrees with him on that, saying that one of them has to be the responsible one.

She pulls away way too soon and Tony makes a displeased noise as he chases after her mouth. He is certain that she tries to say something but the words are lost when his lips find hers once again. He kisses her with everything he has, enjoying the way her hand tightens in his hair. His own fingers curl themselves into the fabric of her hoodie, which is actually Tony’s but he’s long ago accepted that once his clothes fall into Pepper’s hands, they are as good as lost to him. She looks much better in them anyway and he’d be a fool to say that the thought of her running around her room and smelling like him wouldn’t turn him on.

“I love you,” he says as soon as he pulls back.

Pepper beams up at him and presses one last lingering kiss to his lips. She’s much less vocal about her feelings than Tony is, a fact that surprises almost everyone - but she wouldn't put up with nearly as much as she does if she didn’t love him, of that he is sure. Anyone who drives across town in the middle of the night to bail his drunk ass out of jail is worth fighting for.

Tony silently manoeuvres them around until they are both sitting on the same side of the wide windowsill, tightly pressed against each other. He’s got his arm wrapped around her and Pepper has her head resting on his shoulder as they look out the window and down at the campus below. The U-shaped layout of the building gives them a great view of almost everything.

They continue to watch the fall day slowly come to an end, content and at peace.

It’s only when the sun has completely disappeared from view that Pepper speaks up again.

“How are your classes?”

“Boring,” Tony replies quickly, not in the mood to talk about something as unimportant as that. He feels Pepper’s body shake in silent laughter and presses a kiss to the side of her head. “But they are going well. Rhodey makes sure that I attend most of them regularly, so there is nothing you have to worry about.”

“I always worry about you,” she says, making Tony laugh, although he doesn’t even try to keep quiet.

“Which makes me a very lucky man.”

“Indeed, it does.”

Pepper turns until she’s able to throw one of her arms, as well as one of her legs over his body, effectively clinging to him. Tony is once again thankful for how large the window sill is. Beside the bed, it’s his favourite place for them to cuddle.

He pulls her as close as possible and proceeds to press kisses to her cheek and forehead, noticing that, somewhere in the process, Pepper’s eyes fall close and her breathing begins to even out. Not hearing any objection from her, Tony continues until it becomes clear that she has fallen asleep in his arms. He waits until he hears the first snore (not that Pepper snores, she’s told him so herself) before he takes her into his arms and lifts her up.

It takes a bit of time, given their location and the fact that she’s slightly taller than him but Tony eventually manages to get her into his bed. He makes his way over to the window to close it, careful not to wake her.

He strips himself of his shirt and trousers, leaving them on his desk chair in case Rhodey decides to come back to their room some time in the night. The last thing Tony needs is to be woken up by his friend because he’s decorated the floor with his dirty clothes.

Pepper makes a noise and turns, clearly unhappy about being left alone. Tony returns to her as quickly as possible, scared that she’s going to wake up. He lays down next to her and pulls the covers over both their bodies, though Pepper seems content with using him as a blanket, snuggling close as soon as she’s able to.

Tony doesn’t complain. He doubts that he ever will, not when burying his nose in her hair makes him feel this good. It’s also the easiest way for him to fall asleep, something he’s reminded of when it takes no more than a few minutes for him to drift off and follow his girlfriend to a safer place.

#pepperony #tony stark #pepper potts #my writing #au_gust_2020 #college au

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aforrestofstuff · 4 years

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What do you think the OPM characters' guilty pleasures would be? I feel like Tatsu loves soap operas and Atomic Samurai secretly loves a really popular boy band, like SMAP

Thanks for your request, anon! Sorry this took me so long to get to, you were buried in my inbox lol. But I hope this was worth the wait because oh boy this required all 3 of my brain cells.

Tornado of Terror: As you said, soap operas. She also loves candy apples in canon. But...she also is a HUGE fan of those really cheesy Cosmopolitan magazines that have all of the personality quizzes and the “which hot male celeb would date you” scenarios. She doesn’t fall for it one bit. In fact, she hate reads those fuckers in the same way that people pay to go see bad movies. It’s fun.

Silverfang: Yoga and following along to some cheesy-ass 80s workout videos. I’ve said he likes yoga in a previous headcanon, but he also likes to exercise along to some obnoxious 80s pop while some dude in a leotard instructs him on what to do from a TV screen. He wears sweatbands and legwarmers, too. The whole shebang. He only does it when he’s alone, though. Sometimes he’ll try to teach yoga to his disciples as a way to help them decompress after a long training session, but his workout tapes are his best-kept secret.

Atomic Samurai: I don’t know what a SMAP is, but he’s definitely got some questionable music choices going on considering he’s... well, the way that he is. I’d say he likes to listen to old country, like Marty Robbins and Glen Campbell. It’s really funny because you’ve got this intimidating man from Japan (or a fictional universe basically set in Japan) with a badass katana and shit but inside that empty head of his, there’s just a faint “out in the west Texas town of El Paso....”

Child Emperor: Picking at scabs. He’s often on his knees fixing shit in his lab, and he probably gets burned all the damn time from playing around with lasers so he’s undoubtedly always has a wound healing somewhere. Whenever he’s working on something, he’ll just absentmindedly pick at his scabs. It’s a bad habit and he knows it, but nothing beats the feeling of peeling off an entire patch of that shit. So satisfying.

Metal Knight: Buying books. He doesn’t even read them. He just buys bigass novels with smart-sounding names to fill up his library because he thinks it’ll make his dick grow another three inches or some shit. One of the few things he likes in this world (besides homicide) is the smell of a new book. If he’s feeling particularly pissy, he’ll go into his library and just ssssssnnnnnnnnnniififfffffffffff. He spends an outrageous amount of money on it. If he has anyone over (which is unlikely, but hypothetically speaking) and they mention his library by asking something like “have you read all of these?” It’ll be one of the few times in his life that he’ll feel shame.

King: Reading and writing fanfiction based on his favorite video game/anime series. Nobody knows he does this except his small following online, of course. And even more so, nobody online knows he’s an ultra-popular S-Class hero who’s friends with the most powerful man on earth. He’s actually a pretty decent writer, he just doesn’t take himself too seriously so the plotline to his stories tend to get a little haywire and overly self-indulgent. Let him have his fun. He just wants to be a Sailor Scout.

Zombieman: Singing. He actually used to be a good singer (he sounded like a discount Steve Perry back in the day), but constant smoking really fucked up his voice. He might as well have lungs the size of grapes because he can’t carry a note for more than 2 seconds without wheezing like an accordion with asthma. He’s never sang in front of anyone before because he thinks it’s silly thing that isn’t worth showing off. Play anything from The Eagles though, and he’ll have a hard time resisting.

Drive Knight: He likes to open up panels in his arms and legs to play with the wires (basically a robot’s version of nerve endings, I’m assuming) just so he can feel something. It’s kind of sad because he doesn’t experience pain or the cold or being tickled... (I know what y’all are thinking and you’d better STOP). So he sometimes takes it upon himself to dick around with his insides and dip his toe into what it feels like to be human, even if it’s just for a little bit. He’s super secretive about it (he’s just secretive about everything, really) because he doesn’t want anyone to know that he desires something outside of being a weapon of mass destruction justice.

Pig God: His whole schtick is basically indulging in a guilty pleasure — pigging out on delicious food with no regard whatsoever for one’s overall health. Other than that, however, he does like to collect body pillows. There, I said it. All he fucking does is eat and he’s too much of a big boi to be going out 24/7, so he’s gotta be on the internet/watching anime/playing video games/reading manga during all of that downtime between his stints of doing hero work. His bed is fucking ginormous to handle all of that big boy-ness and on it, he has his body pillow nest. He rests on a throne made for kings. A true icon.

Superalloy Darkshine: Also working out along to some cheesy 80s exercise videos. His hero outfit was inspired from what those ravishing instructors would wear on the television. Well, it was supposed to be a full leotard but it ripped every time he flexed just a tiny bit so the speedo is the only thing that’s left. He’s gotta hella rhythm and keeps up with the music using little to no effort. Although, he can’t go too hard because he’s also a big boi and he’ll literally shake the entire building if he gets too turnt up. Dance muscle boy, dance.

Watchdog Man: Eating too many dog treats lol. Sometimes while he’s stationed on his little podium thing, visitors will leave him little offerings like dog treats and other miscellaneous food items/toys. He never takes them or eats them in front of people, but he often brings everything home with him after a long day just to gobble that shit up. He’s gained a little weight since he started doing it but you can’t even notice it because his suit is hella bulky. Some of it is due in part to stress-eating because being a dog and dude at the same time is hectic, but it’s honest work.

Flashy Flash: Racing shit. Whenever he’s on his travels during, say, assassination missions or hero work, he gets hella bored really quickly. So, to help with this, he’ll often race birds or planes flying in the sky on his way to his destination to see who’s quicker (it’s always him). Sometimes he’ll even play catch with himself by throwing a pine cone or something and running to the place he guesses it’ll land before it even touches the ground. He just does a ton of weird speedster shit whenever he’s bored and he’ll deny it if anyone asks.

Genos: Purposefully putting a little bit too much oil on his joints after each upgrade so he’ll be as slick as a salamander. It’s a really funny feeling to be able to move your limbs with little to no resistance without having to worry about popping or breaking anything. It just makes him feel so agile despite being like, a hunk of actual metal. If he wasn’t so uptight, he would loosen the screws in his fingers to he can bend them almost all the way back (he’s actually thought about it a few times), but both Dr. Kuseno and his 3 remaining braincells attested to that. He just likes to tinker around with his body and see what weird shit he can do. It’s a bad habit because it’s led to a few things being broken on multiple occasions.

Metal Bat: Zenko’s shitty pop music. Whenever he drops her off at school or piano practice, he’ll immediately go home and blast that shit on full volume (because he’s practically deaf from always jumping out of falling buildings and continuously blasting music in his earbuds) while doing chores and the like. He’s one of those people that HAVE to have something going on in the background as they’re getting shit done. He’d rather be caught dead than listening to the OPM equivalent of Taylor Swift because he knows Zenko would never let him live it down.

Tanktop Master: Wearing suits around the house when he’s not even going anywhere. He’s got to wear his tanktop 24/7 whenever he’s in public to keep up The Image (which he has no problem with, he genuinely loves the tanktop ideology) but he also needs to feel fancy every once and a while. So, if he happens to have the time while in between appearances, he’ll prance around in a suit tailored just for him. Because he’s so fucking huge that he had to pay someone a large sum to custom make an outfit that actually fits. He is 7-motherfucking-feet tall. 7.

Puri-Puri Prisoner: Making Valentine’s Day cards all times of the year. Listen, it gets boring as hell in prison. Sometimes the guards will let all of the inmates have a little glitter and glue to keep themselves busy because no harm can come of a little arts and crafts, right? He likes to make cards on the daily just to let all of his lovers know how much he appreciates them. If they express even the slightest amount of disdain for his creations, he’ll spent the next week crying in the darkest corner of his cell block. He also likes origami. Origami is huge in prison because it’s hella time-consuming and guaranteed to calm a busy mind. His favorite things to make are little unicorns.

Amai Mask: Bath bombs. There have been several mishaps in which he’s used a poorly-made bath bomb and came out of the tub looking like Shrek but he’s grown and lot since then, okay? After a long day or a particularly stressful concert, he’ll sink into some hot water and drop a ball of lavender-scented goodness in there. It’s become a bit of an addiction because he’s got multiple cabinets dedicated solely to his collection, but at least he always smells divine.

Iaian: Shakespearean dramas. Kama got him hooked on theater shit and he’s since ripped through all of the most well-known plays. He thinks in iambic pentameter. It wasn’t always noticeable since he’s a quiet, well-reserved guy but his fellow disciples and Kami have recently noticed that he’s developed a bit of a dramatic flair. Even worse, he’s started calling himself a knight whenever he puts on his armor. Everyone prays it’s just a phase but seeing as how stubborn Iaian is, that seeks highly unlikely. Kami is dying inside because he can’t handle another drama nerd.

Okamaitachi: Soap operas, like Tatsumaki. Kama is the most dramatic out of all of the disciples so it’s only natural that she’d like the most dramatic genre of any show out there. She doesn’t exactly watch them religiously though. She’s the type of viewer to drop off the face of the earth for three seasons and come back without knowing what the fuck is going on (because the disciples have limited access to cable due to Kami’s dumbassery and ignorance to anything technology-related), but still cry during the finale anyway because oh no these people are so hot and one of them is deaaaaaad and the other one is that person’s long-lost sister....

Bushidrill: Taking alcohol from Atomic Samurai’s stash every so often. Bushidrill knows what the good shit is and he could buy it himself if he wanted to, but why would he when there’s a perfectly good alcoholic to steal from living right down the hall? He only takes in small doses because, believe it or not—he’s smart, but Kami isn’t gonna notice regardless of whether or not Bushi takes 1 or 5 bottles at a time because the old shit couldn’t spot a purple raccoon if it was 3 feet in front of him. There have been times where Bushi has opened bottles of Kami’s alcohol right in front of him just to play God and he always, without missing a beat, says “Oh, we have the same taste. How neat.”

Fubuki: I’ve said this before in a previous headcanon, but she has a mild obsession with Victorian aesthetic. She’s got a small collection of semi-authentic ballgowns that cost upwards of a-fuckton-of-money each, but anything’s worth it to be able to play dress-up with Lily. Fubuki’s favorite thing is making Lily feel beautiful because everyone has been an insecure teenager at one point and she knows how it feels to not be comfortable in one’s own skin. This isn’t exactly a guilty pleasure because she’s not guilty about it, but it’s almost gotten to a point where an intervention is needed. She’s got so many damn dresses and sooooo much fine china....

Saitama: Retail therapy, lol. Saitama is only good at budgeting because he has no choice given how fucking poor he is, but give this boy even a little bit of leeway and he’ll buy the ugliest clothes (to which he thinks look poppin’) and the best meats without even batting an eye. His entire manga collection is the product of him having little to no self control the moment he realizes he’s got a bit of money to spend on himself. This is also the only time he’ll experiment with cooking because now he can actually afford to fuck up, literally.

Mumen Rider: Sweets! I’ve said this in a previous hc but he has a major sweet tooth. You can substitute salt for sugar in any given recipe and he’ll see it as a major improvement because he just goes absolutely buckwild for anything sweet. His pancreas is suffering, but he believes nothing feels better than curling up under the covers on a rainy day with a heaping helping of milk chocolate. The only thing that makes him feel better after getting beat to shit is a kiss on the cheek and box of his favorite cookies (and some bananas, lol).

Sonic: Like Flash, he also likes racing things. But, in addition to that, his guilty pleasure is doing his own hair in elaborate hairstyles (when it was longer). He’s pretty much homeless so he’s got a lot of time to himself in between murders. This is when you can find him sitting in the woods somewhere braiding flowers into his hair and tying it off with a moss ribbon. He’d never admit he does this because he’s a big macho man and he’d probably cry.

Garou: Spicy chips. I’ve said this before in a previous hc, but he absolutely inhales his food without even tasting it half the time so it’s not even like he gets to enjoy the flavor that much. He just likes the burn because he’s a shithead. He also doesn’t fear death or a torn-up asshole, so he’ll eat an entire family-sized bag of the OPM-universe equivalent to Takis without even batting an eye. He’s been beat to shit so many times that the agony that comes with downing so much spice is lost on him. He doesn’t even need water. It’s insane. Someone stop this madman at once.

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bobasheebaby · 4 years

Text

200 Brooklyn 99 Prompts

Rosa

1 “Talk to him, that's what friends do.” “Nope. I'm gonna wait 'til I'm on my deathbed, get in the last word and then die immediately.” “That's your plan for dealing with this?” “That's my plan for dealing with everything. I have seventy-seven arguments I'm going to win that way.”

2 “I'm already seeing somebody, NAME.” “Oh, and just like that, things got interesting.” “And just like that, I left.”

3 “NAME is even wearing his/her formal leather jacket.” “It's the one without any blood on it.”

4 “Right, that's the guy/girl you said the lame stuff about. Like he’s/she's a good listener.” “Sorry, what do you look for in a guy/girl?” “Real stuff, like the shape of his/her ass.”

5 “Sorry I'm late. I had to go back to the deli and return my Everything Bagel. In what world does everything not include beef jerky?” “All of them.”

6 “He/She also likes to look up recipes online and go, "Who's got the time?"

7 “Thank you, NAME. Your entire life is garbage.”

8 “NAME , tell us about your family.” “I have one.”

9 “Anyone over the age of six celebrating a birthday should go to hell.”

10 “I am dating his/her nephew/niece. Now we are hanging out on weekends. What is next? Oh! Small talk.”

11 “Wait, is that a smile I see?” “Possibly. My immune system is too weak to fight off my smile muscles.”

12 “Whoa, what happened? You know what, forget it. I'll just read NAME’s notes.”

13 “NAME? Are you stuck in there?” “No, I'm in here by choice.” “Oh, 'cause I hear some banging noises as if someone was struggling to open the door.” “No. That was the pipes.” “Or, is it the sound of you learning how to ask for help? You know, you can't spell ‘independent’ without ‘dependent.’” “And you can't spell ‘Go [bleep] yourself’ without ‘[bleep] you.’”

14 “I've said "excuse me" more times this morning than I have in my entire life. Twice!”

15 “Oh, nothing better after a long shift than coming to BAR NAME. It's like Cheers, where everybody knows your name.” “A place where everybody knows your name is hell. You're describing hell.”

16 “So, what is this? Casual, serious? I need to know how to make fun of you.”

17 “NAME and I broke up. He/She ate soup too much.” “What, like every day?” “It happened twice.”

18 “So, what are you drinking?” “I'll have a margarita. But, like, a skinny margarita. So, like, tequila, lime, and a tiny splash of agave.” “Mm. I refuse to order that.”

19 “What are you looking all wistful about?” “Just thinking, about relationships and love, and how I'm way better at them than I thought I'd be. Should I do a TED Talk on it?” “Doesn't seem any dumber than all the other TED Talks.”

20 “Why didn't you tell me? I had no idea things were getting that serious.” “Yeah, it's very embarrassing having feelings.”

21 “So are you bringing someone to the wedding?” “No, I'm taking a break from dating for a while.” “What?” “I'm sick of asking people how many siblings they have. Oh, is it somewhere between zero and two? How fascinating.”

22 “I grew a goatee and it looks amazing, and I know you can see it.” “Of course we can see it, NAME. It's horrible.”

23 “It feels like you're being a little harsh.” “Thanks, good note. I was going for extremely harsh. I'll turn it up.”

24 “Are your senses heightened?” “I think I might be pregnant, not bitten by a radioactive spider.”

25 “You're what sneezes are!”

26 “Seriously, you guys should stand up once in a while. You know, for your hearts.”

27 “NAME, this is dumb. I'm just gonna go.” “No, no, no. You promised me more time. I still have seven minutes.” “I really don't want to miss my flight, and I cannot physically stand the way that room smells anymore.” “Just breathe through your mouth.”

28 “You know, some people say, ‘Mo money, mo problems,’ but those people are idiots. Money's amazing.”

29 “Dude, just admit you ruined everything and turned our lives into a living hell. No biggie.”

30 “We don't want anyone getting alcohol poisoning, so if you throw up, you're disqualified.” “I never throw up. I just tell my stomach to deal with it. My body is terrified of me.”

Jake

31 “I also have a hairline fracture in my thumb. Mankind's least important finger, am I right?”

32 “I wasn't hurt that badly. The doctor said all my bleeding was internal. That's where the blood's supposed to be.”

33 “How much could I possibly owe you? Fifty, sixty bucks?” “Two thousand, four hundred and thirty seven dollars.” “Dollars?! Wait, of course dollars. Why was that the part I was surprised by?”

34 “So, I'm going to grab a healthy breakfast.” “Are those gummy bears wrapped in a fruit roll-up?” “Breakfast burrito, but yeah.” “I pity your dentist.” “Joke's on you. I don't have a dentist.”

35 “I'm talking to my credit card company. I tried to get an online subscription to the New Yorker and they declined me. Apparently, based on my previous purchases, they assumed it was fraud. That's crazy. I'm fancy. One time I had coffee-flavored ice cream.”

36 “Rules are made to be broken.” “They were made to be followed. Nothing is made to be broken.” “Uh, piñatas.” “Glow sticks.” “Karate boards.” “Spaghetti when you have a small pot.” “Rules.”

37 “Hey, can I ask you something?” “Mm-hmm.” “If the toilets drain into the ocean, does that mean a tiny shark could swim up and bite me in the butt?” “No, not at all.” “Psh, lame.”

38 “NAME, super important question. Which one of these shirts should I wear to dinner with your dad/mom tonight?” “Those are exactly the same.” “I have a signature look, NAME.”

39 “Hello, good sir, I'd like your finest bottle of wine, please.” “That will be $1,600.” “Great, I'd like your $8-est bottle of wine, please.”

40 “I am straight-up depressed. NAME’s been doing her best to cheer me up. He/She gave me this sticker this morning just for waking up.” “Ew, it's like you're dating your teacher.” “I know, it's so hot.”

41 “Wait. Before you say anything, I want to guess what happened based on your face. Someone died. No! You won a prize. I'm not getting better at this.”

42 “What is the bandwidth on the wifi here? We have much content to stream.”

43 “Oh, you sweaty, chair-spinning morons. You're gonna get us out of here.”

44 “Sir, I think I speak for all of us when —“ “He/She doesn't.” “He/She doesn't.”

45 “So, your brother/sister's a bit of a nightmare.” “I wouldn't say that. I mean, at most, he’s/she's a daymare.” “Those are so much scarier.” “Yeah.”

46 “Look, NAME, I burnt two hundred calories.” “That's your heart rate.” “Yeah, that checks out.”

47 “I don't slump, people. I opposite of slump. I pmuls. That's slump backwards and it's what I do. I pmuls all over this bitch.”

48 “Excuse me. We were just looking for a place to —“ “Boink.” “Yes, boink. That's my preferred term for it, too.”

49 “Thank you for doing this. I love you.” “Noice. Smort. I love you too.”

50 “Adult parties? I believe they're called orgies.”

51 “I have a sexy voice!

Champagne.

Mountain range.

Hugs.”

52 “Has anyone ever told you you look just like a statue?” “Yes.”

53 “NAME, you're smiling. It's very weird. Like seeing a turtle out of its shell.”

54 “You look happy. Let me guess. Your egg sandwich fell on the floor, and they gave it to you for free.” “No. Can you do that? Why doesn't everyone just drop their sandwiches on the floor?” “I was trying to insult you.” “And instead you gave me an amazing life hack!”

55 “So, we gonna talk about what happened back there? I haven't seen someone cry that much since NAME heard they were remaking ‘First Wives Club.’”

56 “Hey, there, NAME. Everything okay?” “No, I'm having a meltdown.” “Props. That was amazing.” “Thanks. It was a lot of work.”

57 “Almost makes me wanna take things seriously all the time. But then I'm like ‘boobs, farts, boobs, whatever’.”

58 “Ahh, babe, this is so nice. There are hot stones on our butts for no reason.” “Not on mine. My butt stones keep falling off, because I'm so tense about NAME being here and ruining everything.”

59 “Okay, don't shoot! That's how people get shot.”

60 “Rule number 3: Let's not have sex right away.” “Cool. Cool cool cool cool cool. No doubt, no doubt, no doubt. Good rule. No sex. Good rule.”

Charles

61 “Okay, but I thought since you were in charge, maybe I could be your right hand man? Your Tinker Bell?” “Tinker Bell?” “Let me tell you something about Tinker Bell. Tinker Bell is a loyal lieutenant and a real thorn in the side of Captain Hook.”

62 “NAME, why don't you show Danger what a fax machine is.” “Okay. Imagine a letter had unprotected sex with a phone.”

63 “Hey, NAME, are you ready to go streaking?” “What?” “That's what my dad/mom and I called getting blonde streaks in your hair. We used to do it to our ponytails on road trips. You just take a little lemon up top, and let the sun do the rest. We called it giving each other road head.” “You just said you called it going streaking.” “It had a couple names.”

64 “So we have good news, and we have bad news.” “My Nana always said, ‘Bad news first because the good news is probably a lie.’ Fun fact: she made me cry a lot.”

65 “What about me? What if something happens to NAME, and he never gets to meet my baby? I don't want to hang out with some stupid baby who's never met NAME.”

66 “Oh, you're right. I'm gonna tell him/her. It might not be today. It might not be tomorrow. It definitely won't be later than tomorrow. So pretty much today or tomorrow then.”

67 “No! I was eavesdropping. I'm always eavesdropping.” “I don't like it.” “Look, I didn't spend the last seven years watching your love ripen, only to have it sullied by a city hall wedding. You're getting married right here, right now.”

68 “I know you think my judgement's clouded because I like him/her a little bit.” “You doodled your wedding invitation.” “No, that's our joint tombstone.” “My mistake.”

69 “How many times have I smacked you in your face?” “Lost count.” “And you still have no fear of me.” “I'm trying to read your womb vibe.” “Exactly. Knock it off.”

70 “Okay, first of all, NAME, you look amazing. Secondly, I made an appointment at the salon with Nikki, for you, under the name Gabriella Fuentes de San Miguel Estrada. I had fun with the name.” “Clearly.”

71 “He’s/She's got a type, which is really any one but you.” “Yeah, that was my ex-husband/ex-wife's type, too.”

72 “Sexy train is leaving the station. Check out this caboose. Later, sluts.”

73 “I can't wait to see you, my luscious little breakfast quiche. I just want to draw you a bubble bath and spoon-feed you caviar. I think we should open up a joint checking account. I love you. [pause] What am I doing?” “It's okay. I hung up right after ‘Chucklebunny’.” “Help me. I've gone Full NAME.”

74 “Do you desire a crispen potato?” “Oh, don't mind if I do-ble. Wait a minute. Crispen potato. Why are you fancy talking.” “How dare you, sir/madam. I speak the common tongue.” “There it is again. You only do that when you're lying or hiding something.” “Hiding? Ha. Pish-posh.”

75 “Hey, donut holes. Don't mind if I do. Eurgh! Fish? Fish donuts, NAME? What is wrong with you?” “It's takoyaki. I'm drowning my sorrows in octopus balls.”

76 “Put on a T-shirt for all I care. It doesn't matter what you wear.” “Of course it matters. He has to wear the smaller checks. Big checks wash him out. Where are you, NAME?”

77 “Ooh, if they have your phone, we can track where they're going. I have ‘Find My Phone’ set up to track you. What? I do that for all my friends, not just you.” “Show me.” “There's no time!”

78 “You okay?” “Yeah, no burns. The doctor said I was lucky my body was so damp.”

79 “You guys have been down here for two hours. What, did you have sex forty times?”

80 “What? You don't need closet space. You have, like, one outfit.”

81 “You just graduated pie school, bitches. [pause] Sorry I said bitches, I'm just really worked up.”

82 “So, I know you're NAME’s best friend, and —“ “Did he/she say that? Did you get that on tape?” “No.” “No, he/she didn't say that or no, you didn't get it on tape? Doesn't matter. Either way, you screwed up big time.”

83 “What you did is the culinary equivalent of unprotected sex.”

84 “That's right. Boom. Just kicked Santa in the testicles.”

85 “No, there's no one in my life. [wink] Sort of a sad thing to wink about, I realize now.”

86 “NAME! Were you dreaming about NAME again?” “Why did you wake me up?! I told you never to wake me up!”

87 “You used all the touching time, NAME. I get 100% of the goodbye touching time. 100%.”

88 “Do you wanna know why he/she went out with him/her and not you?” “Yeah.” “Because he/she actually asked him/her out.”

89 “NAME, will you taste this batter?” “Mm-hmm. Hmm. I think it's a little off.” “You know what's off? Your mouth! Why NAME lets your stupid tongue anywhere near him/her I'll never know. Nope, I forgot the sugar. That's on me.”

90 “There's no need for NAME to see me unleash the beast.”

Captain Holt

91 “Look at you. Always working. What happened to my fun big/little brother/sister?” “Fun? I was never fun. You take that back.”

92 “It's the most fun day of the year. Something you wouldn't understand because you're not programmed to feel joy.” “Yes, but my software is due for an exuberance upgrade.”

93 “Sticks and stones, NAME.” “Describing your breakfast?”

94 “NAME, how are you feeling?” “Better today. I even managed to eat some plain toast this morning.” “Smart. Something bland.” “That's my favorite breakfast.”

95 “Joining us for lunch, Sir?” “Oh, no, I've already consumed the required calories for this day period.” “Yummy.”

96 “You all right, NAME? Tough weekend?” “I went to Barbados with my husband/wife. We wove hats out of palm fronds and swam with the stingrays. I've never been happier.”

97 “Maybe I should wing it. Love, it sustains you. It's like oatmeal.” “Okay. Okay. Not bad for winging it.” “I lied. Took me two hours to write that.”

98 “I do not have a problem. If I want to play Kwazy Cupcakes, I will play Kwazy Cupcakes. Kwazy is a difficult word to say in anger, but I think I've made my feelings clear.”

99 “This place is so romantic.” “Yeah, and so intimate.” “Don't worry. I'm not listening to you. I'm just thinking about how this sea bass is cold but not as cold and cruel as the hands of fate that have thrust my entire life into darkness.” “Ah, damn it. I just ordered the sea bass.”

100 “Yeah, and your new shirt is very aggressive and confusing. Is the pineapple the slut, or is it calling someone else a slut?” “Clearly the pineapple is the slut.” “Huh.”

101 “Oh, I've caused a problem. I think I am getting a text message. Bloop. Ah, there it is.”

102 “So nice of you to greet us, NAME. I thought surely you'd still be crushed under that house in Munchkinland.”

103 “So, do you NAME --“ “Yes.” “And do you --“ “Yes. Yes. We do. We're married.”

104 “I mean, don't people call you NAME?” “How dare you.”

105 “So you lied to me? Out of pity. You pity me.” “I wouldn't put it that way.” “I would. I am offended. I am angry. I am very tired. So I'm gonna take a nap, but when I wake up, oh, you are in for it.”

106 “Look at that. You've helped me find my smile.”

107 “Huh. Meat from the street. Sounds like a fun treat. Hah. I'm a poet and ... I didn't even know I was rhyming those words. But it happened anyway.”

108 “Oh, look at that. An alert. I'm probably trending already. What? My account has been deactivated?” “Twitter thinks you're a bot.” “Why? I am a human. I am a human male/female.”

109 “Care to sit? I'm sure you'd like to take some weight off your cloven hooves.” “Call me the devil, NAME? How original.” “Actually, I was calling you a goat. You goat.”

110 “NAME! I'm coming with you.” “Thank you, NAME.” “I'm also coming.” “Not necessary.”

111 “Spot checks are done. Needless to say I'm thoroughly underwhelmed.” “Huh. From your expression, I would have guessed constipated. Or chilly.”

112 “NAME, you have a pretty low bar for what you consider drama. Once, I used an exclamation point in a email. You called me Diana Ross.” “I assure you, in this case, I do not exaggerate.”

113 “I know they say it's not good to have a TV in the bedroom. Which is why I don't.”

114 “NAME, did you just laugh?” “Uproariously.”

115 “You know when you play along with the robot jokes, it kinda ruins my enjoyment of them?” “Yes, I know.”

116 “And what do you hope to get out of this, NAME? Let me guess revenge on Dorothy for killing your sister?”

117 “It was a good game though for a dumbass.” Okay, you're kinda overusing that one. Maybe switch it up a little bit.” “Oh, good note. You dick.” “That landed good.”

118 “Dancing over. Situation defused.” “No!”

119 “All right, NAME, I'm sick of you wasting time. So, yes, I spilled some minestrone on my pants and I'm sitting in my underwear. Happy?”

120 “You found me. Drinking seltzer in the shadows.”

Gina

121 “It's a sloppy Jessica. Mac n cheese, chili, pizza on a bun. Its everything I've wanted to eat for the last 48 hours.” “What happened? I thought you were gonna 'last forever bitches.'” “Turns out I gave up easy. You hear that bitches? I gave up so easy.”

122 “If NAME had a twin, he/she would have eaten him/her in the womb.”

123 “Wait a minute, I think I just figured something out. I got to go.” “Aren't you forgetting something?” [person a gives Person b a kiss on the forehead] “Uh no, pay your bill! Damn, who raised you?”

124 “The English language can not fully capture the depth and complexity of my thoughts. So I'm incorporating Emoji into my speech to better express myself. Winky face.”

125 “All right, gang. Diet day 4. How's everyone holding up?” “Honestly, I'm going to last forever. You hear that bitches? I'm gonna last forever.”

126 “If I die, turn my tweets into a book!”

127 “The only reason I didn't tell you is I don't value you as people, so why be honest?”

128 “Breakups are a cartoony thumbs down. They make people feel face-with-Xs-for-the-eyes.”

129 “I'm sorry. I just don't think this is something you're good at.” “What? The only thing I'm not good at is modesty, because I'm great at it.”

130 “Click. I just captured the exact moment you realized you had failed. I guess we all got something out of this.”

131 “It's so addictive, right? I play so much that when I close my eyes at night, I just see cupcakes instead of my normal dizzying array of flashing lights.”

132 “Forget your ex with meaningless sex. It rhymes because it's true.”

133 “NAME. NAME. NAME, I screwed up, big time.” “NAME, given your daily life experiences, you're gonna have to be more specific.”

134 “So, talk to me, goose. How are we looking?” “Sexy, but not like we're trying too hard. Like, sure, we're trying, but it's almost effortless.”

135 “Give me the ring.” “You sound like Gollum.” “That means nothing to me. I don't see those movies, I'm too pretty.”

136 “Oh no, six drink NAME isn't fun. He’s/She's just sad. Damn it!”

137 “I never have second thoughts. That's the luxury of having great first thoughts.”

138 “Ugh, constantly getting NAME’s approval is the worst.” “Yes. I can only imagine.”

139 “You think you can just bully people, but you can't. It's not okay. I'm the bully around here. Ask anyone.”

140 “This just might work out after all.” “You're damn right it will, 'cause we're a ragtag, scrappity, fart-dumb, moron parade, smart-ass team!”

141 “Okay, NAME, stop freaking out. I have the day off. I can step in and help.” “Yeah, me too. I'm not off, but I come and go as I please. It's part of my charm. I'm like an outdoor cat.”

142 “Gina, please keep an eye on NAME today. He's/She’s gonna say something to the wrong person and get himself/herself punched.” “Sure, I'd love to see NAME get punched.” “Try again.” “I will stop NAME from getting punched.” “Correct.”

143 “Oh, I want him/her out. But I'm too scared to tell him/her. “ “All right, listen. I know that your spirit animal is a caterpillar that's been stepped on —“ “Mm-hmm.”

144 “What are you creeps doing? You made me look away from my phone. You better pray I didn't miss a text.” “In the two seconds you looked away?” “Seventeen texts. All of them important.”

145 “What is my favorite soup?” “Chicken noodle.” “Potato leek.” “Corn frickin' noodle. I mean, chowder, damn it.” “You're all wrong. I've never had soup.” “Don't bother. They all suck.”

146 “Okay, so that plumber was useless. But we are two smart and capable people who can definitely figure out how to fix a toilet.” “Of course we can. The internet will tell us what to do. She always does.”

147 “It's crazy how much he/she flirts with me.”

148 “Good morning.” “For whom?” “For you-m.”

149 “So he/she didn't say what happened, which can only mean one thing.” “He's/She’s in a fight club.”

150 “What's up? How can I help?” “Well, when I was a kid, I invented a magnetic flashlight clip so I could read under the covers. This clip and I went all around the world together the Shire, Sweet Valley High, Terabithia.” “But never to a friend's house, huh?” “Uncalled for.”

Amy

151 “That stuff with us is in the past. We talked about that.” “I know, but that was before you saw me in this dope ass tux. I mean you must be freaking out.” “Oh, I really am. I'm really into rented clothes. I love how many butts have been in them.”

152 “You know, we're birds of a feather, you and I.” “I hate cliches.” “Cliches are the worst.”

153 “And now I don't know what to do.” “I think you do know what to do.” “Thanks, NAME.” [leaves the room] “I have no idea what he’s/she's gonna do but that's the safest way to give NAME advice.” “Yep.”

154 “Insult me all you want, for I have only this to say —“ “Victory shall be mine!” “I heard you practicing in the shower. You can't surprise me. Letting me into your life was the worst mistake you ever made.” “Cool, fun take on our relationship.”

155 “NAME, where you at?” “Four drinks.” “What's four-drink NAME again?” “Why don't you come over here and find out?” “Right, Horny NAME”

156 “I'm sorry. We only excluded you because you're kind of an over-texter.” “Over-texter? That's not even a thing.” “Oh really? So you don't remember the time you sent 97 unanswered texts in a five-minute span?” “My phone vibrated itself off the desk. I think it was committing suicide.”

157 “What the hell? I used NAME's exact recipe. I know I'm not a great cook, but I love following instructions.”

158 “What's going on? Is this a dream? No, I'm not holding a label maker.”

159 “My power went out last night and my alarm didn't go off.” “Your alarm is power dependent? You brought this on yourself, son.”

160 “I'd also like to apologize for my friend. His /Her parents didn't give him/her enough attention.”

161 “I'm in! A bet which improves someone's manners? Double score.”

162 “He’s/She's scared.” “He’s/She's not scared. With all due respect, NAME, NAME has no feelings.”

163 “I'm so cold even my fiery dance moves aren't keeping me warm.”

164 “I'm sorry. I tried to be myself and they hated it.”

165 “All right, someone's gotta go out there and kill that feathery bastard. NAME, you're always looking for an excuse to behead something.”

Sergeant Jeffords

166 “It was like taking candy from a baby.” “Why are you giving candy to a baby in the first place? Don't give candy to a baby! They can't brush their teeth!”

167 “I was raised on disco. Little NAME loved to hustle.”

168 “Or is your favorite artist really Taylor Swift?” [Scoffs] “No.” “Lie.” “All right, fine, she is. She makes me feel things.” “She makes all of us feel things!”

169 “Urgh, what's in these?” “Potatoes, butter, a little milk. Oh, and I ran out of salt, so I used baking soda.” “Why wouldn't you? They're both white powders. Of course they're interchangeable.” “Yeah.”

170 “I warned you against using donuts. They're my trigger food.”

171 “Hey, NAME, you know how you're really good at doodling?” “I know you think you're complimenting me, but calling them doodles is an insult. You a big fan of Picasso's doodles?”

172 “Your tone's braggy but your words are real sad.”

173 “See, NAME? Tough love works.” “Damn it! NAME proved the wrong point.”

174 “Now, be respectful and grieve your asses off.” “I don't know why this is happening.” “NAME, I love it. Everyone follow his/her lead!”

175 “Everything's spoiled. My lunch is ruined. My chicken, my potatoes, pasta, my meatballs, ham, my yogurt.” “Wow, that's a lot of yogurt.” “I love yogurt.”

176 “Kind of seemed like you were gonna get up and leave after saying all that.” “I was, but I think I hear NAME.”

177 “You better look cute in this picture, or no one's gonna want you. Do something with your damn paws!”

178 “My tolerance has really changed since I had kids!”

179 “I'm hungry!” “Oh, you're in luck; the fanny pack is filled with granola.” “Mmm! Loose granola.” “I don't want fanny granola! I want steaks and whiskey!”

180 “You probably can't tell, but I'm flexing my brain like crazy right now.”

181 “What's that smell? That's lavender. NAME loves lavender.”

182 “Okay. Excuse me. Can we please eat? My body is starting to digest itself. NAME needs nutrients!”

183 “Don't look at me. NAME wastes all that time building muscles, make him do it.” “Oh, come on, you all know these are just for show.”

184 “Sorry? You bumbling son of a bitch. You just ruined my life. I hope you get hit by a truck and a dog takes a dump on your face.” “Nothing to see here. Just a little hypoglycaemic rage. Move along.”

185 “I feel like a proud mama hen whose baby chicks have learned to fly!”

Hitchcock

186 “NAME, why do you have your shirt off?” “Can't spill food on your shirt if you're not wearing one.”

187 “What bet? What are you guys talking about?” “Seriously? The bet? They've been keeping score all year. It comes up all the time. What are you doing all day?!” “Nothing. Why, you want to hang out?”

188 “So you just want us to lie on the ground and do nothing like a bunch of losers?” “Yes, precisely.” “No!” “Jackpot!”

189 “I don't like it. Something stinks.” “Well, I'm sorry, but I refuse to mask my natural musk with a bunch of chemicals.”

190 “My God. NAME, are you the only person still making sense?” “Yeah. It's bad.”

191 “All right, food is ready, decorations are set, guests should start arriving any moment, and the chairs are still perfection.” “He/She said they're perfection. I'm so proud of you, buddy.” “It was you. You made this happen.”

192 “Who do you think it's gonna be?” “I've no idea.” “I bet it's me. I just hope I'm ready.”

193 “Okay, look, this was maybe a weird way to start the night, but the good news is, we can still make our dinner reservation and no one got hurt.” “Actually, I cut myself real bad.” “Of course you did.”

Scully

194 “Oh, so your plan is to not take this seriously at all?” “Oh, I am as serious as a heart attack. No offense, NAME.” “Nah. Mine are never that serious. I call 'em ‘oopsies’.”

195 “I miss my home chair.” “You miss a chair?”

196 “Are those thumbtacks? What the hell, NAME?” “I thought they'd make good confetti.” “Why?”

197 “All right, anyone else have questions? NAME, NAME, you've been weirdly silent.” “We didn't want to say anything that would get us uninvited.”

198 “Okay, first of all, I want to say that this was one of the hardest decisions I've ever had to make. There is so much talent in this room.” “Just tell us, bitch. Act as if you already have the role.”

199 “I'll be back. Don't move.” “Not a problem. I hate moving.”

200 “Where should we begin? Do you have any experience with puzzles?” “Yes. I've never solved one.”

#brooklyn 99 prompts #brooklyn 99 quotes #jake peralta #rosa diaz #amy santiago #gina linetti #captain holt #sergeant jeffords #terry jeffords #charles boyle #scully b99 #hitchcock b99 #bb 99 prompts #bb 99 quotes #quaratine sucks and making these keeps my mind busy #i live in covid 19 hell

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