#tickets on my machine like just fucking help me

[freesomebodybyluna]

today has been so evil so far if you go to sbux today you're going to hell

[seumyo]

BAKUGOU KATSUKI ✰ 10:32

You tell Bakugou once that you don’t know how to take the train home, and he almost blasted your ears off with semi-yelling (or full-on yelling at some point) insults. 

“Hah?” He scoffs, eyes narrowing. This information is new to him, and a surprising one at that. 

You? The nerd that always bested him when it came to academics, which pissed him off the first few months in U.A.? The person who was not only book smart but was street and people smart as well? 

The whole goddamn package doesn’t know how to take the train?

Really?

He’s calling bull.

“What do you mean you don’t know how to take the train home? What kind of idiot doesn’t know that?”

“I just—“ you’re abashed and really don’t know what to say, “I didn’t really— I’ve never had the chance to take one until now!” For a consistent honors student, you can’t really have everything, can you?

“How’ve you been getting to school and back, then?”

“We had a driver—“

“Fuckin’ course—“

“But hey! Listen—in my defense—my schools were usually a walking distance from our house.”

“And now what? Gonna stand here and wait for a miracle to happen?”

You nudge his side with a frustrated frown (more like a pout, Bakugou thinks.) “Quit it, asshole.”

He backtracks briefly, though you could barely tell at this point. And it’s clear enough that he takes your words into consideration. It could be the fact that you actually look scared shitless right now, something foreign to your typical lax and carefree persona.

“C’mon.” Bakugou grabs you by the arm.

“Ow— hey! Where are we going?”

“You have to learn somehow, or else you’ll look fuckin’ clueless and dumb, nerd.”

You don’t argue because you really just wanted to get home, and while you could just call in your driver, you considered that this was important information that would help you in the long run. Besides, you do agree with Bakugou that not knowing how to commute like this is embarrassing, especially at your age.

“What’s this?” 

Bakugou hands you a card. It’s decorated with a minimalist logo of Musutafu’s native flower, whose color is your favorite.

“An IC card,” he simply answers.

It’s cute, you thought. You noticed how the other commuters had the standard design, so Bakugou must've gotten it personalized to your preference. How thoughtful.

“You could’ve just helped me get a ticket, though,” you murmur. You fiddle with the card in your hand, glancing at him with a puzzled expression. “I don’t think I’ll be using this card that often. It’ll be a waste.”

“Then try and use it as often as you can, nerd.”

“I’ll pay you back for this—how much was it?”

“Forget it.”

“Really, Bak—“

“Forget it,” he barks. “Keep up, you shitty extra. Or else you’d miss the last train to your station.” Bakugou starts walking, and you follow suit.

You can load your IC card at the ticket machines or the nearest ATMs. Different stations call for different ticket gates that obviously have different fares. The expiration of cards usually depends on what provider you got them from—

“What do I do now?”

You’re hesitantly in front of the ticket gate, with Bakugou on the other side. You’re like a kid who’s lost their mother in the mall.

“Just—“ Bakugou had to take a deep breath and not make a scene in the train station. He pinched the bridge of his nose, calling for all his ancestors to give him the strength to remain patient.

“Place your shitty card on the card reader. That’s it.”

You do as you’re taught, and you awed when the gates opened and let yourself walk through with a stupidly big smile on your face. “I did it!”

Bakugou thinks it’s fucking stupid of him to think that your enthusiasm for mundane things was cute. But fuck, something must be wrong with him because suddenly he feels a flurry of butterflies lodged in his throat, his heart beating ridiculously fast. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” 

He gives you directions, how to navigate through Musutafu without getting lost, and the basic stations you’ll be passing by to get to your station. He sees you type most of the things he says on your phone, and the way you were so eager to learn was a sight to see, really.

Boarding the metro, people were just as eager to get home as you two. So you two stood, not that there was much room to do anything about it.

“Hold onto the handle unless you want to fall on your ass,” Bakugou says. His tone is hushed to not disturb the other passengers. At least he followed basic commuting etiquette. 

“It’s so beautiful,” you breathe out. The passing buildings were as huge as those of U.A.’s, if not bigger. With the golden hue of the apparent descent of the sun below the horizon, Musutafu just became more beautiful in your eyes.

He scoffs.

“What’s so interestin’ about a buncha tacky buildings? Never seen one before you came here?”

“Of course I have; they’re just not like this.”

Bakugou follows your line of sight, and he thinks about it carefully. He couldn’t see what you saw, but maybe it’s because he grew up looking at this scenery. It doesn’t amaze him as much as it did when he was younger, he concludes. To you, this was a first. 

An experience that could become a core memory in this city. And he’s with you as you live through it. The thought causes a familiar feeling of pride to exude from his chest.

Maybe he’ll learn to appreciate more mundane things with you too in the future.

The train stops at another station, and the people scurry out. Once in motion, you were surprised by the speed when it took off, and the motion had you stumbling back. You stumble against Bakugou.

“What did I say about keeping a firm hold on the handles, you shitty extra? That’s what those are for.” Whether it’s by instinct or unintentional, Bakugou guides your hand to hold onto the support pole. He doesn’t let go, and you didn’t make a comment about it.

“Sorry! Still getting used to it,” you quietly laugh. “I hope the people here don’t think I’m really that inexperienced when it comes to taking the metro home,” you told him. “It’s embarrassing to think that I haven’t taken one until now.”

Bakugou thinks it’s alright because you were actually on set to learn. No matter what those other extras say or comment, no matter if they give you unimpressed glances, he’s there to grant them one of his own spine-chilling glares if they had the balls to do so. 

A passenger who appeared to be around your age stood up from his seat. “Excuse me, you can take my seat. I get off at the next stop,” he says. You’re a bit hesitant to take the offer, but he reassures you that it’s fine. It’ll be an awkward death for you if you don’t accept it, because now he’s standing. “Please, I insist.”

Unknown to you, Bakugou had an obvious scowl on his face until the stranger left.

“You look like you’re about to shit yourself.”

“Shut up, I’m not.”

“Jealous?”

“Hah? Why would I be—”

“Shh!” you kicked his shoe with yours.

“Quiet, remember?”

Bakugou rolls his eyes, still frowning. You hold his free hand, cheekily smiling when he tries to free it from your hold. And in the end, he lets you do whatever the fuck it is that you want, but he would never ever admit that he was jealous of some nameless extra. He’s too far into liking you to help you board a train, get you a personalized IC card, miss his stop two stations ago because yours was still three stations after his, but he doesn’t think he’d be vocal about it anytime soon.

He’ll leave it to you to confess.

Then again, you already knew.

Bakugou Katsuki would not go above and beyond like this for anyone else, but he unknowingly does for you.

SEUMYO © 2024, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[saerins]

𝒊𝒏 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆

+ nagi seishiro x f!reader | wc 2.4k | content: fluff, high school setting!, some cursing

notes: this was something requested by an anon !! i realised this prompt was also done in my other fic whole except nagi was the second lead :’) also pleaseeeee excuse me if this is ass because i haven’t written in a long time T_T but i’m working on getting back properly !! <3

summary: he didn’t ask you out because he wanted to, yet nagi gets more than he bargained for in the end.

“so, um, nagi, why’d you ask me out all of a sudden?”

it’s kind of an awkward situation to be in, you think, as you look around the arcade, shuffling your feet beside where nagi’s seated, trying to win some tickets from what you can only assume to be a music machine.

when he’d asked you out on a date yesterday, you didn’t think he’d take you to an arcade, of all places. (then again, nagi asking anyone out is sort of unbelievable, honestly.) if you knew sooner (or if nagi had bothered to tell you), you wouldn’t have worn such a nice dress for today.

besides, you’re not even sure why you’d agreed. call your state half-flustered or whatever, because you heard that nagi seishiro of all people does not bother with human relationships much. you’ve only ever seen him interact with mikage reo anyway—and you’d just chalked it up to him wanting it that way. nagi had never shown interest in girls or romance or that kind of shit, so cue your surprise when he asked you out yesterday, when he saw you at the bus stop.

“hey, wanna go on a date tomorrow?”

you blinked at him, utterly surprised because that was the first time that nagi had ever spoken to you.

“um, where to?” (you were still malfunctioning over the fact that he was asking you out on a date.)

nagi scratched the back of his head, and you could faintly make out reo a few ways behind him, watching on.

“hmm, not sure, i’ll text you tomorrow morning?” he suggested, pulling out his phone. “what’s your number?”

okay sure, you could’ve asked for more details, but it was hard getting nagi to respond to you at all. you’re pretty sure he was gaming, that’s why.

“oh, ‘cause reo asked me to.”

that… was not the answer you were expecting. “reo asked you to?”

nagi has a bad habit of not elaborating. you don’t really like that, because you don’t like asking questions, but you can’t help yourself now. this is too bizarre for you to let go.

“yeah, something about how he’s sick of me playing games all day long, told me to go get a date, then he’d return me my switch,” nagi mumbles, and you can’t help but think that reo’s plan may have backfired, considering how he’s on a date and still playing games.

while nagi’s grey eyes are focused on the screen in front of him, you find yourself drawn to the way he’s sucking in his cheek as he concentrates, the way his bangs fall over his eyes and how his fingers can respond so quickly to the lines on the screen.

“you’re pretty good at this,” you tell him, getting lost in how well he’s playing. the points on the screen gets so high he’s almost nearing the high score.

for a moment, nagi’s distracted by how close you are to him; your hair smells like citrus and it’s really smooth. it’s also the only time anyone other than reo has been this close and you’re not anyone so he doesn’t really see why you’re able to steal his focus from the game.

someone like you shouldn’t make him notice things that aren’t about games or himself.

but you do—and he misses the first note since the start of the game, though he recovers fairly easily.

he doesn’t know much about you, only that you’re in his class and you’re very pretty (now that he’s actually looking at you). you have a really cute laugh too, he realises, right when he wins the game and probably what’s a thousand tickets, with you rejoicing happily beside him.

“oh my god, you’re so fucking good at this,” you’re jumping and giggly and nothing like how quiet you are in school and why does he feel a little giddy knowing that he’s getting to see this firsthand? this doesn’t make sense. “okay, move aside, teach me, i wanna do it too.”

nagi obliges. it’s a pain having to teach someone else compared to doing it himself, he gets to know, as you miss probably half the notes on screen even when he tries to tell you how to do it. hell, he’s not really a good teacher.

you win about 300 tickets.

“not bad for a rookie,” nagi comments as you grab your own pile and stack it in your shared basket. the neon red and blue flashes pretty against your skin. it makes you even prettier, he feels.

you raise a brow. “nagi seishiro, wanna play a bet?”

no, not really. but somehow, he can’t quite turn down a game when it’s from you.

“what’re you betting?”

you hold out the basket in front of you. “i’m gonna find a game where i can beat you.” your chest is puffed out, like you’re determined, like you really believe you can. “if i lose, you can decide my punishment.”

nagi blinks at you. you’re… weird. you make his heart beat faster than usual. it’s a little concerning. “and if you win?”

grinning, you wink at him, “let’s leave that to later.”

whatever possessed him to spend the entire day following you around the arcade and watching you fail, he doesn’t know. you’re pretty bad at everything compared to him, but it’s not really fair—he’s probably spent ten times as much of his days in the arcade than you.

have you ever even set foot in here before?

nagi observes as you try desperately to beat him in ddr. you fail, naturally. your feet coordination really isn’t that good, but it’s pretty cute how hard you’re trying. you’re still pretty even at the end of it, even when you’re sweating and some of your hair is matted against your skin. he keeps that to himself though.

throughout the entire day, nagi finds himself entertained by your persistent insistence to beat him at something. it’s funny how you’re awful at the arcade games. it’s also funny how you’re honestly trying. it’s really no use but here you are, sweating once again from shooting hoops.

your 64 versus nagi’s 154.

“wow, you’re really bad at all these games,” nagi murmurs when he sees your score. “wanna go somewhere else?”

you’re quick to open your mouth but it takes you just as quick to shut it, probably knowing you’ll never beat him. at least, not today. “fine, you win,” you say through gritted teeth. you’re a little prideful; nagi’s learning a lot about you. “what do you want?”

nagi seems to have forgotten your earlier bet. he just shrugs and tells you to choose what you want at the exchange counter.

“you don’t want anything?”

nagi looks at the prizes with such disinterest it makes you wonder what can interest a guy like him. he shakes his head, “i can get anything i want anytime anyway.”

(the underlying insinuation that coming to the arcade with him is your only chance to win prizes flies right over your head.)

but when nagi looks at your slightly disappointed face, he tries to backtrack. “i’ll let you know when i think of something i want since i won,” he says, looking away from you. “but you choose one of the prizes today.”

turns out it’s so easy to please you. just like that and that smile is back on your face.

you choose a big goddamn pink teddy bear by the way. nagi sighs as he leaves the arcade with you. it’s probably a character nagi doesn’t know. he’s judging you, but then you hug it and smile at him and he forgets what he’s thinking about.

“i know this was only because reo asked you to, but…” you mumble after you and nagi both finished eating dinner, sitting across from each other at the ramen shop. “it was fun.”

nagi’s not sure what this is. just a customary thing where you’re showing appreciation for the time you two spent together today? you’re looking away from him though, he’s pretty sure normal customs don’t dictate that. he’s pretty sure you’re supposed to look at him when you say that.

“why’re you looking away?”

you look at him in blank shock (an expression that he doesn’t know how to process—what’s so weird about asking you that?) before you smile helplessly. “you’re very weird, nagi seishiro.”

“what do you mean?” nagi’s clueless, in that nagi seishiro way only he can be.

a few seconds of silence pass when you try to make up your mind. it’s unnerving how big and wide his eyes are, especially when they’re focused only on you and nothing else. in the end, you manage with a shake of your head.

“it’s nothing,” you decide. telling him of your possible crush on him would not do any good, you guess.

something bugs nagi; he can’t understand what it is. he just knows something feels off but it’s not like he’s ever felt this particular kind of irk—he doesn’t know what to do.

when the time comes to leave the restaurant, nagi finds himself walking the opposite way to his home because you started walking first.

somehow, his feet follows you.

it’s stupid—walking this far away from the direction of his home is troublesome. it’ll be a hassle to get home when his bus is on the other side of the long gone restaurant. why is he walking you to the train station again when he’ll just see you next week anyway? you’re in the same class.

“oh, are you gonna take the train too?”

nagi blinks at you, drawing a blank at your question. he must’ve completely zoned out. did the both of you get here in complete silence?

“no,” he answers honestly. he doesn’t elaborate. as usual.

by now, that doesn’t surprise you. instead you just nod your head, a hesitance borne in the shuffling of your feet. “well,” you drawl out, dragging the syllable, somehow hoping this wasn’t the end of the night but it is. “this was a nice one-time date,” you settle for, smiling. you’re about to just say goodbye, but you bite on your bottom lip, contemplating, before you slip his phone out of his hand and slide the screen to the side, taking a picture of the both of you together, nagi looking at the screen in surprise and you winking beside him.

when you hand it back to him, you bite your inner mouth, trying not to grin. “in case reo asks for evidence,” you offer as an excuse. you totally didn’t want to take a picture with nagi. “he better give you your game back!”

nagi gets this fleeting feeling that he doesn’t know how to explain when he sees you smiling at him. like how you remind him of the color gray. not because it’s bland but because it’s his favourite color. you remind him of spring and the cool breeze and how refreshing it feels.

“it was a nice one-time date, nagi seishiro,” you chuckle before you turn around, ready to head into the station and probably never spend such time with nagi again. you’ll probably get over the sadness of what could’ve been pretty quickly. you think.

but just before you can enter, you hear the firm steadiness in nagi’s voice. “no.”

you whip your head around, not quite sure you heard him right. “no?” you narrow your stare a little, moving out of other people’s way as they push past you into the station. “as in, you didn’t like it?”

you hope he doesn’t mean it like that.

nagi looks away, earnestly processing it. it came blurting out of him, he didn’t even know what he said until he said it. “i won the bet and what i want is… this. again. with you.”

the implications of his words slowly sink in and it has you feeling giddy. nagi, the guy who barely cares about anything nor makes the time for anyone—is he actually telling you this? is he really saying he’d take you out more?

meanwhile, nagi’s feet stay firmly planted where he is, wondering why you make him feel like this, why you make him feel like he can’t get enough. you’re just… you. before today, he could honestly say you were insignificant. but just the way you are; how you speak, your smile, your laugh and your resilience—nagi likes it, finds comfort in it, somehow.

“then,” you say as you enter the station, face giddy with the excitement of something new blossoming. “i’ll wait for more dates with you, sei.”

the way you call him that makes his heart skip a beat and he’s left blankly staring at your figure as you retreat into the station, stealing his heart with you.

“fine, fine,” reo sighs. it’s two days later on a monday and reo grudgingly gives nagi back his switch. “so, what’d you two do anyway?” he asks, shifting his gaze between nagi and you, though you’re at the other end of the classroom, talking excitedly to your friends.

nagi’s attention quickly transfers to his switch, already opening up a game to play. “nothing much,” is all he offers, and reo’s beginning to think maybe it was more of a punishment for you than a date.

reo sighs again, ready to lecture nagi for being the worst date ever when he pulls up his phone to look at the time. but he accidentally takes nagi’s phone instead, unlocking it to find his own chat thread—to which nagi doesn’t even bother saving his name (reo side eyes him but nagi doesn’t even realise).

that doesn’t surprise him, but what does is when reo realises your contact is saved—with the icon being a picture of the two of you together. you must really be something to be able to make nagi do something so idiotic like this.

“oi, nagi.”

nagi only responds with a raise of his brow. he’s still clicking away at the controls. reo guesses it must be a racing game from those sounds.

“if you guys get married i better be the best man for being your matchmaker,” reo teases, his grin filling his face.

even though nagi doesn’t respond, the champagne pink that brushes across his cheeks is enough indication to reo of nagi’s feelings for you.

looks like he never needed to worry after all.

[kinardsevan]

I wanna see both 4 and 6 but my first choice is 4

Tommy is pissed. He and Evan had plans to spend a week off in Florida, hitting up all the parks at Disney World. The tickets have been bought, the bags are packed, and they’re supposed to be leaving in twenty-four hours. 

Which is why he can’t understand why Eddie called him from the ER. 

Last he’d heard from his boyfriend and their mutual best friend, they’d been planning to take a bike ride through the park. Evan just got a new mountain bike that he’s been using pretty regularly on his days off. Tommy has joined him on several of the rides,  but he’d been finishing up a 12 that he’d picked up off of one of his coworkers to help add to their vacation fund. 

When he walks into the trauma bay, Evan is on the gurney and Eddie seated in the chair beside him, arms crossed. 

“What in the fuck happened,” he asks, taking in Evan’s obvious injuries. He’s managed to scrape up half his face, there’s a nasty cut on his knee that probably needs stitches, and Evan is holding his left arm pretty tightly to his body in a way that has Tommy thinking it’s probably pretty injured. Eddie isn’t unscathed either; he has scrape on both calves and forearms, but he’s far less beat up than Evan is. 

“We were just fucking around and finding out,” Evan replies, keeping his gaze low. “And we ended up finding out a little too hard.” 

Eddie snorts. 

“Evan.” 

“He went over this thing that looked like a half-pipe,” Eddie states. 

“Edmundo!” Evan whines. Tommy glares at him. 

“Which one of you is in the hospital bed right now, Evan,” he chides. The blonde flinches at the statement. 

“Anyway,” Eddie continues. “Turns out it was a wall, not a halfpipe.” 

Tommy’s gaze zeroes in entirely on Evan than. 

“What in the actual fuck?” He asks. He’s laughing, and he’s not even sure why, because he’s definitely not amused. “Baby,” he comments incredulously. 

Evan presses his lips together in a thin line, eyes darting back and forth away from both Eddie and Tommy’s gaze. 

“Oops?” he finally comments after a silence that’s drug on far too long. 

Tommy just shakes his head, and he laughs again, mostly because he both can’t and can believe this is the life he signed up for when he and Evan started dating exclusively eight months ago. 

“You’re an absolute shit head,” he tells him, crossing the room and perching on the bed, resting a hand on Evan’s thigh, away from the blood. “And you’re lucky I love you.” 

Evan blushes then, looks up at him, a small smile on his face. “Still?” 

Tommy tilts his head at him. “Yes, still.” 

Eddie gags obnoxiously then, pushing himself up from his chair. 

“I’m gonna go find the vending machines,” he states. “Let me know when we’re leaving.” 

He walks out of the room, leaving Evan and Tommy alone. Tommy shifts into the empty chair, leans his head against his hand with his elbow on the arm of the chair. 

“So what’s the worst of it,” he asks. Evan gets that inconspicuous look on his face again, looks away. He scrunches his face, like he’s trying to make less of the moment. 

“Just a small, minor…dislocation.” 

Tommy groans then, dropping his head back on the chair. After a beat, he lifts it back up, looking over at his boyfriend. 

“Still going to Disney World tomorrow?” He asks. 

Evan grins. “Oh fuck yes. Try and stop me.” 

[the-kr8tor]

Woven Wheel

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 4.3k

Tags: use of Y/N sparingly, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), Hobie is taller than the reader, CW food, FLUFF.

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Thread the Needle Masterlist

CHAPTER 5 >>> CHAPTER 6

You sit on Hobie's rickety chair, on your lap is his emerald bed sheet, your hands expertly stitch together the large hole on the side of the cloth. Eyes glued to what you're doing, you don't notice Hobie's piercing gaze.

He's crouched over to the other side of the room, fixing the wiring of his answering machine. Hobie watches your cherry earrings sway as you move your head to the side to inspect your handiwork. The bags under your eyes are more prominent than the last time he saw you. He sighs, fingers wrapping around the wiring of his answering machine.

Hobie should've been more persuasive at telling you to stay home and get some much needed rest. But you being you, you won the argument, telling him that it'll be your place too once you graduate so you should come over and help with the cleaning and fixing. With that you already won, but then you added the fact that he already used a ticket from your favour card. Rolling your eyes through the payphone's receiver as if he can see you, you tell him that you always keep to your word. He relents, the only thing he can do now is to make sure you don't get too tired, opting to give you the easiest job, even if he means he has to do more.

So here you are sitting in his sparse living room, mending his bedsheet, watching as James walks over to you. You smile politely to the blonde, making small talk.

"You're gonna burn a hole right through her" Ned appears out of nowhere, whispering right in Hobie's ear.

Hobie pushes him off, Ned cackles at his annoyed reaction. "Fucker"

"You look like a lovesick teen, just go fuckin' tell her, you idiot" Ned sits down to Hobie's level, whispering to him. "Seriously, go do it before someone else does" as Ned says this, you laugh at something James said, the blonde smiles sheepishly at you. "Also I need to see you two finally get together before I leave. I deserve that much after watching you two yearn for each other the entire time I've known you lot"

Hobie frowns at what Ned says, fingers twisting the wiring in his hands faster, he jumps when a sudden jolt of electricity shocks him, the wiring falling from his hand "Fuck!" He yells, holding and shaking his hands.

You perk up, attuned to his scream of pain, stopping mid conversation. "You okay, Hobs?" Handing the linen to James, speed walking the small distance towards Hobie's crouched form. "The hell did you do?" Crouching down, you hold his hands gingerly, massaging his calloused fingers. Probably the opposite of what you should do when somebody gets electrocuted.

"I'm okay, just a shock is all" Hobie stares at your hands gingerly holding his. You nod, still a little concerned.

Ned chuckles, Hobie stares daggers at his friend, shutting him up, a faint smirk staying on his lips. "Maybe you should let Yuri do that, she's good with that kind of stuff" Ned teases Hobie more.

"Let me do what?" Yuri enters the boat, a large box in her hands.

"I have it," Hobie grumbles.

You stand up, dropping Hobie's hands on his side, "oh, let me help you with that"

Ned stops you before you could get your hands over to the box. "Got it, y/n"

"I got it" Yuri lightly shoves Ned away, "I'm not a damsel in distress" she walks towards the pile of boxes on the side of the boat, dropping the large box next to the pile, "see, no sweat"

"When's lunch?" James pipes up, still holding Hobie's bedsheet.

"Mate, you barely did anything" Ned scrunches his nose, "you're right though, when's lunch, Hobie?"

You laugh, Yuri rolls her eyes, a ghost of a smile on her red lips.

"Bunch of leeches, the lot of you" he murmurs. Tapping you on your arm, "what do you want?" Hobie asks you.

"Pizza or fish and chips" Ned says before you could answer, a teasing smile on his lips.

"I asked her not you" Hobie huffs.

"I second that," James agrees, pointing at Ned.

"A coke too," Yuri adds.

"Christ" Hobie places his hands over his hips, "you good with either?" He turns his head towards you.

"A large coke for me, please" you add to the teasing.

"I expected better from you" Hobie narrows his eyes, you giggle at his expression.

—

The chair creaks from under you, finishing the last stitches on the bed sheet, you try to make conversation with Yuri. She sorts through the various boxes for some utensils to eat with. The men left a few minutes ago to buy lunch, leaving you and Yuri inside the Houseboat.

"So what are you gonna study?" You break the silence.

"Getting right to the point, huh?" Yuri teases but you take it too seriously, eyes widening, afraid that you might've offended her.

"Sorry, I didn't mean–"

"I was joking," Yuri stops her perusal of boxes, now looking straight at you with her piercing gaze, "you can ask" she chuckles, "seriously, don't apologize"

"Oh, okay, sorr–" Yuri raises a sharp brow, you backtrack, suddenly nervous from her stare, "right, so um, what are you gonna study?"

Yuri smiles, "Architecture, I know, it's a surprise, huh?" She gestures towards her dark clothes, combat boots and spiked denim jacket.

"Kind of? I mean look at me, do I look like a fashion student?" Gesturing towards your not so plain clothes, but still pretty tame from what you used to wear back in the day. You opted for a pair of bell bottomed jeans instead of your usual straight cut denim, your long sleeved blouse rustles slightly when a draft blows in. The detailed design of hummingbirds stitched on the collar of your shirt practically comes alive every time you turn your head. You're slowly trying to ease back to your usual self, following Danny's advice. And it actually works since you had a major breakthrough with your design a few nights ago. You're keeping it a secret, a little surprise for your model.

"You're a fashion student?!" She feigns surprise.

Chuckling, you see why her and Hobie are friends.

"I joke" Yuri winks, "I stopped tryin' to blend in a looong time ago" she crosses the small threshold, sitting in front of you on an equally rickety chair, "you look different, they stare, you look plain, they whisper. You can't bloody win. Might as well be myself out of spite, right?" she lifts her leg to cross it over the other. "Così va il mondo'' she sighs.

"Such is life" you translate, Yuri smirks, eyes twinkling.

"I see why Hobie likes you so much," she leans on the wooden table, elbows propped up, hand holding her chin. "You're not just pretty, but smart too, huh?"

Smiling genuinely at her, you take note of her freckles, dotting her face like stars, her septum piercing glinting in the low light of the lamp you've placed on the table.

The door to the houseboat swings open, the boys' bickering slices the silence inside the boat.

"Fuckin' told you to hold it on its side!" Hobie argues with James.

"I did! It slid down! I can't control gravity, Hobie!" James retaliates.

Ned enters the space first, he looks so out of it, face frowning, exasperated at his two companions. He holds a liter of coke in his hand, the other a plastic bag of something hot inside.

Yuri side eyes you, shaking her head at the men arguing, you chuckle. She stands up reluctantly, going towards the pile of boxes to take out the utensils.

You follow her lead, walking to meet halfway with the tired Ned. He hands you the bottle of coke.

"I feel like I've aged ten bloody years"

You chuckle, helping Ned place the food on the wobbly table.

"Wait, place it on the floor, that table's not stable enough" Hobie stops you, grabbing the soda bottle from your hands, he juggles it in between the paper bag he's carrying.

"I got it, Hobie" you take the bottle from his hand, " 's not that heavy, you're already carrying too much"

"Where do we eat then, doofus?" Yuri asks the question that's on everyone's mind, she holds plates of various sizes in her hands, mismatched spoons and forks placed on top of the ceramic, in her other hand are mugs, hanging precariously on her ring clad fingers.

"Well, idiot," Hobie retaliates, "the floor is your best friend" He sits down on the newly polished floor, the wood gleaming in all its glory. The paper bag almost spills over when he sits down, grabbing the top of the bag before the contents decorate the clean floors.

"The chips!" James dramatically yells.

"They're fine!" Hobie clicks his tongue, he taps the floor next to him. "Right here, y/n" he softened up when he said your name.

You don't waste a second to cross the space, dropping down next to him. You sit criss crossed, cradling the liter bottle like a baby.

"You need a dining table or at least a settee that doesn't give you tetanus when the spring pokes you" Ned unceremoniously sits down, adjacent to you, he yelps when hot oil singes his finger. "Where else are we gonna sit?" He licks the oil off his red fingertip.

"You gonna buy me one, Neddy?" Hobie gives you a box full of chips, you give him a small 'thank you'.

"I'll buy you one if you actually do what we discussed earlier" Ned replies. Hobie narrows his eyes, non-verbally telling him to shut up.

You look at Ned quizzically, he shrugs, handing everyone their share of fried fish. Your stomach grumbles at the sight. Everyone sits in a circle, the pizza box and soda lays in the middle of the group.

Yuri snorts, knowing what he meant. James opens the pizza box, the savory smell coating the small space. He quickly grabs a slice, gobbling it down.

"Bloody hell, use a plate at least. Were you raised in a barn?" Yuri grimaces, handing James a plate. He nods a thank you, mouth full of dough. "Here you go, love" she hands you a couple of plates and utensils.

"Thanks,Yuri" You hand the spare utensils to Hobie, Leaning forward to grab a slice.

"What's all this? You two best mates now?" Hobie asks, biting off a chip.

"You jealous? We're just lookin' out for each other. Ain't that right, sweets?" Yuri winks at you. You stop chewing for a hot second.

Ned guffaws while James laughs with a mouthful of cheese and sauce. Hobie rolls his eyes, handing you his makeshift glass so you could pour him a drink.

You pour him one while Hobie casually rolls your sleeves up to your elbows so you don't splash soda on it. The fizz rises up towards the edge of the mug. "It's not that cold anymore"

"I'll manage" Hobie thanks you by tapping his mug towards yours, it clinks when they meet.

"Best fish and chips in town, fuck I'm gonna miss this" Ned says.

"They have fish and chips in Richmond," Yuri scoffs, biting into the doughy pizza.

"I know they have fish and chips! But not this fish and chips" he shows his plate like a commercial, hand gesturing around his plate.

"They literally all taste the same" James quips, hand reaching for tissues.

"They would taste the same for you because you don't stop to actually taste it" Ned rebukes.

Their banter fades in the background as Hobie scooches next to you, legs kissing yours, "you want my slice?"

"Hmm? You don't like it?" You lean further into him, "is it the cheese?"

"Nah, I just don't like it" he leans towards you, further closing the already small distance, breath mixing in with yours. "It's too.." he tries to find the right word to describe it, "..gooey for me"

You snort at his choice of word "hehehe say it again"

"What's so funny about 'gooey'?"

"You saying 'gooey', big punk Hobie saying gooey is funny" you take the pizza from his plate, taking a bite from it. "Oh, you're right, it is gooey"

"Doughy, fuck that's the word I was looking for"

You giggle, "I think 'doughy' has the same effect as 'gooey'"

"You're very funny" Hobie stops for a second, unabashedly staring at your lips, he brings his thumb over to it, wiping at the corner of your mouth. You don't have time to react, freezing into place. "Sorry, you got sauce on it" he continues wiping, thumb grazing your lower lip. You stare at him, eyes wide, breath hitching in your throat. "Got it"

You clear your throat, "Thanks"

"Oi lovebirds!" Ned whistles to get your attention, Hobie glares at Ned.

"We're not dogs, what the hell do you want?"

"Pass me the hot sauce" Ned points at the packets near your crossed legs.

Hobie scoffs, tossing Ned the packets. It bounces off Ned's mug, almost falling inside his drink. Ned flips Hobie the bird as a thank you. Hobie lovingly answers the same.

The group munches on their food quietly for a few minutes, you relish in the peace. Until James burps. Yuri scrunches her nose, you hide your giggle with a bite of your lip.

"So, what are you planning on doing after you graduate?" Yuri bravely asks, her utensils clinking on the plate as she finishes eating.

"Getting right to the point, huh?" You tilt your head at Yuri, copying the words she uttered a few minutes ago.

Yuri smiles, "aye, you got me there"

Hobie watches the interaction, glad that you made friends with Yuri.

"Well there's this fashion house where an old friend of mine works at, that would be nice working with him. And it's right here in London so I don't have to go far" you wipe your fingers with a napkin.

"Think big, y/n! What's your ultimate goal?" Yuri pats your knee.

"She's right, go big or go home, eh?" Ned chides in.

"You guys are laying it on me, huh?" You shyly say.

"My da applied to the biggest radio station in London when he was younger, he never thought he'd even get accepted! Now look at him, the most famous radio host in the country!" James adds in the conversation.

"Wait, who's your dad?" Hobie asks.

"JJJ" James answers, huffing his chest in pride.

You all look at him surprised, Hobie slowly turns to look at you, mirroring the same expression.

"What the fuck? You're just gonna drop that insane lore just like that?" Ned looks at James, shocked.

"Yeah, and you know what?" James shifts in his seat, hand curling around his drink. "I'm not even gonna elaborate" he snickers, drinking loudly from his mug.

"I see the resemblance" you lean a bit to look at James closely.

"Yeah, just tape a mustache on him and he's a carbon copy" Hobie agrees.

"Let's shut the fuck up about him, yeah?" Yuri cuts in, James softly mumbles out a 'hey'. "You don't even want to tell us" Yuri points a finger in James' direction. "Let's go back to the topic at hand, y/n, what do you want to do after graduation?"

"You don't have to answer if you don't want to," Hobie places his chin on your shoulder, comforting you.

"Aye, you don't have to answer if you don't feel comfortable telling us. I mean I am asking what your hopes and dreams are. It's a tall order." Yuri tells you.

"It's fine, really" you smile bashfully, "I– there's a fashion house in Paris, that I've been dreaming of working at since I was a kid. I guess that's what I want to do after." You fiddle with your thumbs.

Hobie watches the twinkle in your eyes, he smiles sadly at the prospect of you moving so far away from him, but he can't help but feel proud. He sighs, avoiding looking at your face, instead he stares at your discarded plate.

"Now that's the answer I was lookin' for"

"Thought you wanted to model?" James asks, looking confused in your direction. You tilt your head to ask him what he meant. "You two did go to a runway show, I thought it's because you wanted to model or something"

"Oh, that was for research" you answer.

Ned snorts "can't imagine Hobie at a runway show, especially him walking down on it" Ned shields his face with his arms when Hobie throws him another packet of sauce, this time aiming right for his face. It bounces off harmlessly, Ned sticks his tongue out. Hobie mumbles out a 'child', glaring at his friend.

"Mate, show us your runway walk!" James stands up, posing exaggeratedly.

"You first" Hobie lifts his head off your shoulder.

"I asked you first!"

"You asked for jack shit, fuck off" Hobie says flatly. You laugh at them both.

"Yeah, Hobie he did ask you first" Yuri grabs her plate to put in the sink.

"Why don't you do it then?" Hobie raises a pierced brow.

"Sure, If everyone does it" she leans casually on the kitchen island, a towel over her shoulder. "What do you say? You up for a little modeling?" Yuri smirks at you.

"Uh, no thank you" you stand up grabbing yours and Hobie's plates.

"I'll do it, I've got the physic for it" Ned stands up, cleaning up his station. "Let's clean this up, so we have the space"

"Let's goooo!" James grabs his dirty plates, quickly putting it in the sink.

"I've never seen him clean that fast" Hobie whispers to you, taking the plates from your hands. You smile at him, crouching down to take the empty mugs from the floor.

Once the floor gets cleaned (again) James hypes himself up, getting ready to walk. You grab your digital camera from your bag. Maybe if you assign yourself as the photographer they wouldn't notice you not walking with them.

You don't know if it's the sugar high from the soda or James' instigation but whatever it is they all comply. Yuri has a rare grin on her face, Ned punches Hobie's arm while he laughs loudly. James jumps up and down excitedly.

Hobie chuckles when you show him the camera, "go get a good angle of me"

"That's going to be hard" you tease. Hobie elbows your side lightly. Walking to the front of the 'runway', you crouch down for the best angle to take their pictures.

"Alright James! Go" Ned pats James' back.

James walks dramatically, hips swaying from side to side. Once he reaches you, he pouts, exaggerated. Pointing at the camera.

The flash goes off, James nods appreciatively, walking back to the rest of the group. Ned is up next, walking casually. He flips the bird at the camera. You laugh loudly, music to Hobie's ears. He's glad their shenanigans are making you laugh.

Yuri walks like she owns the place, hand on her waist, striking a pose at the end. She pauses for a second so you could take her picture, Yuri throws you a 'rock on sign' with her hand, it shows clearly in the grainy screen. She walks back to the laughing group.

Yuri grabs Hobie's shoulders, shaking him. "Your turn, Hobart!" She chuckles deeply, pushing him towards the starting position, "you better strike a bloody pose or you'll have to do it again!" The other two laugh at Yuri's teasing.

Hobie huffs, walking normally towards you. The instigators yell at him to do it properly.

"Hobie, you fucker! That's not how a proper model walks!" Ned exclaims.

He stops in front of you, the flash goes off, as you laugh at the picture you've taken. Hobie lifts you easily by your arm. You stand up, grinning at him.

"What are you doing?" You say, chuckling.

"You think you could escape? You gotta walk with me" Hobie throws his arm around your shoulder, cackling loudly.

You try to wiggle out of his hold. "Nooo!" Your smile betrays you as you try to hopelessly push him away. Yuri takes the camera from your hand, angling it to take numerous pictures of you two.

You laugh loudly as Hobie imitates (as best as he could) how a model walks, with you in his arms. The flash goes off in tandem with your strides, making it look like you're on an actual runway.

"Love it!" James cheers you on.

"Work it!" Ned adds, clapping his hands.

You stop at the end, grinning from ear to ear. Yuri keeps taking pictures, you're sure it's gonna run out of space soon enough, but it's well worth it. Hobie bends at his waist, grabbing the back of your knees, his other hand slides to your back, looping his arm across it, pulling you to his chest, lifting you off the ground. You yelp, quickly looping your arms to his neck.

"Hobie! What the fu–" click! Yuri captures the moment.

"That one's for the front page!" Yuri laughs, checking the picture on the small screen. James and Ned scooch closer to Yuri, peeking at the pictures. They laugh and smile at the pictures you've taken.

Hobie still holds you up, hands warm against your jeans. "You come here often?" He smiles down at you, eyes twinkling at your flustered face.

"I could strangle you right now" you quip.

"You're not tall enough" Hobie scoffs even though he has a smile on his lips.

"I literally have my arms around your neck"

"Kinky" he narrows his eyes at you, a smirk playing on his lips.

You chuckle nervously, "you can let me go now" you say despite not actually wanting him to let go.

"Nah, you look great in this angle" heat rises in your cheeks when he winks at you.

"Well you don't, you've got a bit of a double chin in this angle" you tease back, almost not getting the sentence out completely because of your laughs.

"I could just drop you, y'know"

"But you won't" you lean up slightly, pinching the back of his neck.

"You sure 'bout that?" He pretends to drop you, you gasp a bit, smacking your palm on his chest. He chuckles at your reaction. "I'm not gonna drop you" he fixes his hold on you.

"Yeah, but I'm getting heavy aren't I?" You grin at how he's trying really hard at carrying you.

"No" he lies, slowly putting you back on the ground.

"Mm-hmm, told you so"

—

You hum as Yuri gives you an unexpected hug goodbye, reciprocating the embrace, you pull away, holding her at arm's length.

"Watch us play at the concert?" Yuri asks you.

"Of course, I'll be there"

"Ohh, we'll definitely win then" Yuri goes in for another hug, squeezing you.

You and Hobie stand on the boat, watching them drive off in Yuri's beetle.

The sun slowly sets in the horizon, bathing the boat in its orange light. A breeze rushes past, hugging your coat tighter around you.

"You want a ride?"

"Ride?" You got distracted by the rays hitting his face just right, accentuating his sculpted face.

"Yeah, ride y'know, vroom vroom?" He acts as if he's revving his motorcycle's engine.

You laugh again, face hurting from all the smiling. "Are you trying to get rid of me already?"

"Never" he holds the crook of your elbow. "You're not too tired?" Concern on his face.

"A bit, but I'm not done yet with your bed sheet" you stand closer to him, the tips of your shoes kissing his. "Why do you have so many holes in them? I think I know what to get you for your birthday"

"I'm genuinely excited for new bed sheets" he rubs your arm, warming you.

"That's a sign you're getting old"

"Fuck off, I'm only a year older than you" he scoffs with no ounce of malice in it.

"Mm-hmm you're a homeowner now, how does it feel Mr. Hobart Brown" you lift an imaginary microphone to him. He finds your playfulness endearing, smiling softly at your good mood.

He plays along, leaning towards the invisible mic. "It'll be better once you've moved in"

You bite your lip, bashfully looking at him through your eyelashes. Moving the mic back to you "You've gone soft, can you tell us about that?"

Hobie sighs loudly, almost blurting out exactly why he's gone soft around the edges. He holds your wrist, pretending to talk into the imaginary mic "Well Ms. L/n, it comes with age" he surrenders just so he can hear you laugh wholeheartedly again.

"Knew it" You poke his chest. "Now, let me help you set up your bed. I can't let you sleep on the floor"

He bites his tongue at the innuendo that appears in his mind, "I'm not gonna sleep on the floor, I have a mattress"

"Yeah, a mattress that's on the floor!" You put your hands on your hips.

Hobie surrenders to you once again, at least he gets to hangout with you more. He's already getting ready for the screaming match when you two get frustrated with building the complicated bed frame.

—

You run from the metro station, legs straining, huffing, trying to regulate your breathing. Maybe it's a mistake to wear your new boots to the show, your heels clack against the hard pavement, increasing your chance of stumbling and breaking your ankle.

Fuck, fuck, fuck! You internally curse. You promised the band you'll be there for their final show, I can't believe I overslept! Please tell me they're not on yet! Regretting sleeping late because of your project. You shouldn't have made that complicated embroidery.

You skid to a stop, holding up your ticket to show the security guard. He nods stiffly, you practically run towards the side of the stage, dodging the growing crowd. You quickly gaze over the large stage, finding the staff still setting it all up. Yes! They haven't started yet! Smiling victoriously.

You stop, heels skidding to a halt, smile fading away when you see an unknown woman right next to Hobie, whispering closely to his ear, bare arms around his neck, fingers fiddling with the metal chain he always wears.

Oh

A/N: This chapter made me miss my chaotic OCs 🥺 Thank you for reading! Consider reblogging if you enjoyed it ❤️

(please tell me if I missed any asterisks, they're placeholders for me during drafting. I feel like I missed some lol)

*pictures above are from pinterest*

[healmyhrt]

⌗ photobooth, n. sturniolo

nick x male!reader

summary: you share a sweet moment with nick in the photobooth at prom.

disclaimers!: kissing, mild cursing, use of y/n, short

a/n: i’ve never written anything nick related before, so i wanted to switch it up a little and give nicolas some love <3. tell me how i did, and feel free to leave constructive criticism!

i waited in line next to the photo booth, fidgeting with my fingers anxiously. it was senior prom, and i didn’t even have a date, so i wasn’t quite sure why i was at the photo booth anyway. memories, i guess.

i was a few couples and friend groups away from being next, when i hear a familiar voice call my name from behind me.

“y/n?”

i turn around, and i’m met with nicolas sturniolo, my crush. he grins widely when he sees my face, and leans in to give me a hug. the hug is quick, but i wish it could’ve lasted longer.

we both share a step back to look at each other’s outfits. nick was wearing a white button down, with black slacks and a velvet red tie. i look at his shoes, and he has black high-top converse on.

“i like that you went with comfortability before style.” i say, pointing to his converse, with a smile. he laughs and pulls up a pant leg to show the full shoe, and his funky socks. his socks were purple with black bats all over them.

“fuck yeah. always.” he replies. a few more people move up in the line, and nicolas and i proceed with our conversation as the line continues along.

“so who are you here with?” i finally ask. nick sighs, and looks at the ground. “nobody. not many openly gay boys here, unfortunately.” he replies with a shrug.

“same.” nick looks up and shares a small smile. we’re next up in the photobooth, and i hold the curtain open so nick can go in before me.

“why, thank you.” he says in a british accent. i bow dramatically in response. “of course, good sir.” i reply, mimicking his accent. he laughs, as i seat myself next to him.

i take an envelope out of my jacket pocket, and hold out a ticket. “how many photos did you pay for?” i ask. nicolas takes a ticket out of his pants pocket, and reads it.

“five.”

“me too! we could uh— we can double them, and each get the same five, if— if you’d like.” i stutter out. he smiles, and takes my ticket out of my hand, inserting them both.

“pick a frame!” the machine speaks to us, loudly, i might add. nick scrolls through the frames on the tiny screen, and stops on the pink frame with hearts all over it, that was titled “Love Burst”.

i nervously look at him, and he clicks on the frame, submitting it into the machine. the countdown starts, and i look at nick in panic for what poses to do.

he chuckles, and turns me around, putting his back against mine. we both cross our arms, and put on serious faces into the camera.

the next countdown starts, and we do the same pose, but this time holding up finger guns, and smiling.

“what pose now?” i question.

nick puts an arm around my shoulder, and takes my arm, putting it around his. he smiles into the camera, but i just look at him. i cant help but look at him.

the next countdown begins, and we don’t even realize it. nick turns his head to stare back at me, and i stare into his blue eyes, as his dark pupils dilate.

the camera makes a click sound that grabs our attention, and we realize that its the last one.

“last one.” nick says, turning back toward me. i nervously trail my eyes down from his eyes to his lips, and he definitely notices. “what pose now?” he asks, with a grin. he leans in closer to me, my eyes still on his lips.

“can i kiss you?”

nicolas nods, and i immediately smash my lips onto his. i feel like i’ve been waiting for this moment my whole life, and i honestly have. i’ve had a crush on nick since i was in the 6th grade, and here i was sharing a kiss with him in the photobooth at our senior prom.

the camera flashes, and i pull away, while a blush coats my cheeks. we step out of the booth, and collect our snapshots.

they looked perfect.

[hereforreadandwrite]

Chapter Six

Masterlist

As Grandma Georgina had said, things have started to look up for the Bucket family. The next day Charlie helped his parents fix the roof, Grandpa Joe had spent the day out of bed, not feeling the slightest fatigue. Your uncle had found a new job, he was fixing the machines that took his job. As for you, you had resumed the course of your miserable life, you had resumed your work at Bill's shop, with the old clothes of your grandmothers and your aunt. You didn't have the courage to put on the clothes Willy bought you. It was still too painful for you. How could you be heartbroken when nothing was happening between you two? On the one hand, you could understand the fact that a family is a burden. But you couldn't forgive him for upsetting Charlie. Your cousin had started working as a shoe shiner, around the corner. A sigh escaped your lips as you finished placing the Wonka bars on the rack. You didn't want to think about that damn chocolatier, but you couldn't.

"Fucking chocolate," you muttered as you went into the back room to throw the empty box away with the others.

Another day of work had just ended. You left the shop to go to Charlie's workstation. You smile as you see the boy packing his things. The two cousins returned home. The dinner was taken in a religious silence. Ever since you visited the chocolate factory, your family barely spoke to you, especially Grandpa Joe. He was mad at you for the story of the golden ticket and for not letting him visit the chocolate factory one last time. It was stupid. Completely stupid.

"It's great that luck is finally smiling on us," Charlie said as he poured a sugary drink into the new glasses his parents had bought.

"We just needed time to bounce back," Mr. Bucket replied with a huge grin.

Time for them to bounce back. What about you? They always took your entire salary, leaving you penniless. In this chance, you were unhappy. Everyone was happy except you. Why were you the only one who had to suffer? You snapped out of your thoughts when you heard them laugh. You felt like they were laughing at you.

"Since Uncle Bucket is finally bouncing back and making a better living, I can finally keep my salary," you say, glaring at your uncle and aunt sternly.

Your request threw a chill in the cabin. Your gaze rested on your uncle and your aunt who did not know what to answer. They were serious? You shrug, fingering your food with your fork.

"It's true, now that you have a stable salary uncle. I'm going to start saving," you say, stuffing a piece of chicken in your mouth. "

We…we still have some difficulty, honey," Mrs. Bucket said with a tight smile.

"Me too. Since all my salary has been going into your pocket for several years. Besides, have you thought about paying me back everything you've taken from me since I was… uh… thirteen. Thirteen years of salary. That's a lot, isn't it?" you commented, throwing your cutlery on your plate.

"Charlie, go to your room," Mr. Bucket said as he put down his cutlery.

"Why should he leave? You have nothing to hide from him, do you?" you asked, glaring at your uncle.

"Charlie go to your room!"

"Charlie stay here!"

Charlie was staring between you and his panicked father. He didn't like the turn of events. The atmosphere was palpable. You and your uncle looked each other in the eye. You refused to look away. You had the right to keep your money and be reimbursed.

"Why do you want Charlie out?" you asked, your voice dripping with hate.

"(Y/N)! You're getting unreasonable!" growled Mrs. Bucket.

"Unreasonable?" you asked looking at your aunt. "Is it unreasonable of me to want my hard-earned money back? Is it unreasonable of me to want to save up to buy things for myself? Kind of nice clothes? Sweets? Jewelry?"

"We already give you our clothes!"

"Old, seedy and ugly."

"We buy you sweets!"

"Lie."

"And what do you want to do with jewelry?! We're not going to pay you back a single penny! You know we're in need!"

"I too am in need. And your fault!" You had just said your sentence while shouting and slamming your hands on the table, startling everyone.

You looked at your uncle and your aunt with hatred. It was always the same thing, they wanted to make you feel guilty. But now you weren't going to let it go. You weren't going to let yourself go anymore.

"It's over! I won't give you a single penny anymore!" you say between your teeth. "I'm tired of having to pay to live under this roof!"

"Do you think we wanted you? We just felt sorry. We were hesitant to put you in an orphanage. We should have done that," Mr. Bucket said. "It would have saved us this whole situation. You are a parasite (Y/N). And you will always remain a parasite."

It was like a cold shower. You couldn't help but laugh nervously. You knew it. You headed for the coat rack, grabbed your jacket and left the Bucket family residence. Tears streamed down your cheeks. You knew this day was coming, but you never thought it would happen like this, in front of Charlie. You stopped in front of Bill's shop. You entered the store and were surprised to see a young man holding the cash register.

"Good evening miss," the young man greeted smiling at you. "How can I help you?"

"Do you...do you work here?" you asked under your breath.

"Yes. Bill hired me two days ago," he said, laughing a little. "I only work nights, but Bill is going to fire this girl. He says she was no longer suitable because of the image she sent back."

"What kind of image did she send back?"

"A poor, badly-dressed girl. Maybe I shouldn't say this, but he admitted to me that he hired her out of pity, because her family is poor. But with the publicity of her finding the golden ticket in his shop, he couldn't afford to keep her."

You felt something inside you snap. The only person you trusted had just betrayed you because of your financial situation. You thanked Bill's new employee before leaving the small shop to wander around town. Where could you go? Nobody needed you. Neither your family nor your boss. What could you do? You were taken out of your thoughts by noticing that you were in front of the chocolate factory. You had come without realizing it. Since the visit, you hadn't seen Willy. All you knew about him was that the sale of his sweets had fallen sharply. You put your hand on the back of your neck, hesitating to knock on his door.

"If you change your mind Barley sugar, my door is open."

You approached the door intended for the employees. You pressed the intercom button. You had to wait a few seconds before the high-pitched voice of an Oompa Loompa was heard. You instantly regret doing that. You sputtered an apology, saying it was a mistake. You started to walk away when you heard the intercom chime low and the gate unlock. You stopped, turning towards the gate. An out Oompa Loompa, approaching you.

"You should come inside, miss (Y/L/N). This way."

A defeated sigh escaped your lips. You follow the Oompa Loompa inside the chocolate factory. The little man leads you to the huge entrance hall. He asked you to wait there, the time he went to warn Willy of your arrival. You ran your hands over your scruffy coat, leaning your back against the wall. Why did you come here? Willy was probably going to spit in your face like your aunt and uncle. Like Bill. Yes, that was probably it. You were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard the "ding" of the elevator. You felt your heart beat faster when you saw Willy stepping out of the elevator.

"You came back," he said under his breath.

"I… I must be disturbing you," you said as you started to back away towards the door.

"No! No, you don't bother me!" he hastened to say, catching up with you. "Please don't go."

"No! It was a stupid idea. I… I shouldn't be here," you say, feeling a wave of angst wash over you.

Your heart was racing, your breathing became erratic, you were sweating profusely. You were having a panic attack. Tears were leaking from your eyes, rolling down your cheeks. Seeing you in this state, Willy put his hands on your shoulders, telling you to focus on his breathing. You watched Willy take a deep breath in through his nose and a long breath out through his mouth. You imitated him, concentrating on the chocolatier's breathing. Inhaling and exhaling like him until your panic attack subsides, leaving you drained of all energy. Willy put his arm around your shoulders, leading you to the glass elevator. The chocolatier pressed a button, activating the elevator which took you, both of you, to his apartment. His living space was spacious. Willy guided you to his huge leather sofa before going to the kitchen area. You took the opportunity to look around. Everything here screamed Willy Wonka. Everything was in shades of red and gold. There were numerous papers scattered on the coffee table as well as, what looked like, treats. Willy came back and sat next to you, handing you a steaming cup of cocoa.

"Here. This will warm you up."

You took the steaming cup in your hands. The heat warmed your frozen hands. You were watching the hot drink swirl around in the cup when you saw movement in your peripheral vision. You looked up, watching Willy gather up his papers and the sweets.

"Such a mess," he said, laughing nervously.

"You needn't be embarrassed. I'm the one unexpectedly showing up," you say bringing the cup to your lips, drinking the sugary drink.

The hot cocoa did you a world of good. You had long deprived yourself of the sweets of the great Willy Wonka. After the visit, you had stopped eating his treats. Although you couldn't afford it. You set the empty mug down on the table, nervously running your hands over your scruffy clothes. What were you supposed to say? Did you have to tell Willy you had nowhere to go? That you had lost your job because of your financial situation? You nervously rubbed your hands between them, feeling the tears start to roll down your cheeks again, your throat tightened, preventing you from speaking properly. Willy took your hand in his, squeezing it gently, telling you to take your time and breathe well. You took a deep breath, swallowing back your tears.

"I...I lost everything," you say with a tight throat.

"How so?" Willy asked

"My uncle and my aunt... we... we had a fight. I... I was tired of having to give them all my salary. My... my uncle got a new job and... I told them I didn't want to give them my salary anymore and... I left. I went to Bill's and... he replaced me with someone else."

"Why does your boss do such a thing?"

"Because I'm poor. I'm poor because of my uncle and my aunt. I have to wear old clothes and according to them I don't need new clothes or anything. I... I can't go home anymore."

Willy felt something snap inside him when he heard your words. You couldn't go home any more, just as he couldn't go back to his father after he ran away. The chocolatier put his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his embrace.

"I'm sorry, Barley sugar. No one should go through such an ordeal," he said, pressing his cheek to the top of your head as he hugged you before stepping back, cupping your face in his hands to wipe away your tears with his thumbs. "You know what we're going to do? I'm going to fix you a nice hot bath, you'll put on some fluffy pajamas and then you'll have a good night's sleep. We'll discuss all this tomorrow morning, okay?"

"You… are you okay with me staying here?" you asked surprised.

"Of course. What kind of person would I be if I left you out?" he said, taking your hand in his. "Come."

Willy led you to the bathroom. You sat on the edge of the tub, watching Willy run the hot water, putting products in the tub that seemed to cost a fortune. When your bath was ready, Willy went to his room before returning with clean clothes. He tells you to take your time before you leave the room, leaving you alone. The chocolatier closed the door behind him, allowing you to undress and step into the tub. The hot water bit into your icy skin. You were sinking into the water. The smell of the products smelled extremely good. How could things have gotten so bad? All for a damn golden ticket you refused to give to Grandpa Joe and Charlie. You shook your head, pushing his thoughts out of your mind. You didn't have to think about it anymore. You grabbed the soap, cleaning your body and your tangled hair. Once clean, you got out of the tub to dry off and put on the pajamas that Willy lent you. You buttoned up the shirt and put on the pants, which fell to the floor.

"Great," you muttered as you put the pants back on, which you had to hold on to before leaving the bathroom.

Willy turned to you, asking if everything was going well. Her voice stuck in her throat seeing you dressed in her pajamas that were too big for you. You had to roll up the sleeves and the edges of the pants so you wouldn't trip while walking as you approached him for help.

"The... the pants are too big," you say uncomfortably.

"Too big? Oh yes! Let me help you," he said, rolling up the edge to tighten the pants at the waist before stepping back. "Voilà!"

"Thank Willy."

"No problem. I… I'll show you where you're going to sleep." Willy motioned for you to follow him as he headed for his room.

The room was the size of the Bucket family home. There was a King-sinz bed in the middle of the room, solid wood furniture. Willy walked over to his chest of drawers to pull out a pillow and blanket.

"What are you doing?" you asked looking at Willy.

"I'm going to sleep on the couch."

"No, I'm going to sleep there, sleep in your bed. I don't want to feel like I'm chasing you."

"Oh! Don't worry, Barley sugar. I usually fall asleep on my desk and I still have a lot of work to do. I still have a few more hours. Sleep. We'll talk tomorrow morning."

"Alright good night."

"Good night." Willy left the room leaving you alone.

You turned off the light before slipping under the covers. The sheets were nothing like those of the Bucket family, the mattress was comfortable and it was the first time you slept alone. It was nice to have a bed for either. Without realizing it, you fell asleep, exhausted by this evening.

You were suddenly awakened from your sleep when you heard the door to the room open with force and slam against the wall. The light was on, dazzling you. You didn't have time to open your eyes when someone took the blanket off.

"Get up," Willy ordered, standing in front of the bed. "Hurry up."

"Willy? What's going on?" you asked perplexed.

"Get up, you're leaving."

"W-what?"

"Are you deaf? I told you to leave," he said grabbing your arm, forcing you out of bed. "Hurry up."

"But... you said your doors were always open to me," you say, your throat tight.

"You seriously think I'm going to harbor a poor girl in my chocolate factory," he says, dragging you to the door of his apartment.

You were trying to speak, but your voice was stuck in your throat. Willy opened the door, pushing you into a darkened room.

You looked around you lost before looking at Willy who slammed the door in your face. Your eyelids opened by themselves, your heart was beating at breakneck speed in your chest. You hurriedly turned on the bedside lamp, looking around frantically. You were still in Willy's room. He didn't kick you out. You hurriedly left the bed, as well as the room, to see the chocolatier sitting in his chair, busy reading, scribbling notes, crossing out and mumbling to himself. You moved closer to the sofa, catching Willy's attention.

"Already standing up?" he asked, pulling out a watch. "It's three o'clock in the morning."

"You… you want me to stay?" you asked lost.

"Sure. Are you okay? You're pale," he said, getting up from his couch to come closer to you. "You're shaking. What's going on?"

"You... you were kicking me out. You said you didn't want a poor girl in your chocolate shop."

"(Y/N). I'll never kick you out. I told you, didn't I? The doors of my chocolate factory will always be open to you," he said, hugging you. "You had a nightmare. Just a horrible nightmare. I'll never kick you out, I promise."

You clung to his shirt like your life depended on it. You couldn't stop your body from shaking from this nightmare. Willy put his hand on your cheek, making you raise your head. He was smiling tenderly at you as he leaned in towards you, pressing his lips to your forehead.

"You should go back to bed, Barley sugar," he said, running his hand over your cheek.

"Would you mind sleeping with me. I... I don't want to sleep alone."

You felt like a child asking her parents to join them in their bed. Except that there, you were no longer a child and you had just asked Willy Wonka if he could sleep with you. He didn't say anything, he just smiled when he placed another kiss on your forehead. He nodded, telling you he was going to change and you could go back to the bedroom until he came back. You went back to the chocolatier's room. Slipping under the sheets waiting for his return. You felt the claws of sleep trying to tear you away from reality. Your eyelids started to close on their own when you heard the door close. Your eyelids opened to see Willy dressed in his pajamas. It was quite comical to see. The chocolatier came and slipped under the sheets, turning off the light before lying down beside you.

"Sleep, (Y/N). Tomorrow will be another day."

You nodded slightly, falling asleep again. Willy sighed, adjusting the blanket around your shoulders before falling asleep too.

(o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o)

You awoke from your sleepless sleep feeling your cheek pressed against something firm and warm. When you opened your eyes, your gaze saw Willy's face. The chocolatier was asleep, his arm wrapped around your waist. In your sleep, you had moved closer to him and vice versa. You tried to gently pull your arm away from your waist to get off the bed, but Willy tightened his grip, pulling you closer to him as he nuzzled your hair.

"Mmh... too soon...," Willy muttered still sleepy. "Sleep..."

"B-but..."

You didn't have time to talk until the alarm clock started ringing. Willy sighed loudly. He had to let go of you to cut off this instrument of torture. You didn't have time to talk until the alarm clock started ringing. But you, you didn't know what you were going to be able to do to occupy yourself and forget what happened last night. Just thinking about it made you feel bad. What were you going to do? You had to hurry to find a new job and a new place to live. You left the room going to sit on the couch while Willy shuffled into the kitchen.

"What do you want to eat?" he asked, opening the door of his fridge.

"I…I don't know. I don't usually eat in the morning," you say, getting up from the sofa and moving closer to the counter.

"In that case, let me prepare something for you," he said, taking some ingredients.

You watched Willy begin to scramble eggs with sausage and toast. You were surprised to find that he knew how to do something other than sweets. Once breakfast was ready, he placed a well-stocked plate in front of you before taking his own plate to begin eating.

"That's really good," you say as you finish your plate. "It's quite surprising."

"Really? You thought I was a bad cook?" Willy chuckled.

"It's just that… since you're so obsessed with sweets, I couldn't see you eating anything other than chocolate."

"I can't… really contradict you," he said, pushing his empty plate aside. "Well. Now. We're going to have to discuss what's going to happen."

You wanted to disappear six feet underground. You didn't want to talk about the Bucket family and Bill. You pushed your plate away, running your hands over your face.

"You don't have to worry. I'll find a job soon..."

"(Y/N)."

"I won't be dragging your feet for very long."

"(Y/N). I don't want you to leave."

To say you were surprised was an understatement. You didn't expect him to say such a thing to you. If his goal was to leave you speechless, he had succeeded. You didn't know what to answer. You mumbled a few words before shutting up and massaging your temples.

"Wi-Willy... why do you want me to stay? I'm just a burden to people. Nobody needs a poor girl. I'm just going to drive down your chocolate stock. People aren't going to let this go!"

Willy nodded slightly when he heard your explanations. The chocolatier sighed, running his hand through his tangled hair.

"You're right. People wouldn't take kindly to me harboring a poor girl, like you say," he said with a sigh, shrugging his shoulders.

"You see."

"But I've never been like the others, Barley sugar. I would have thought you had understood that during the visit," he said, moving around the counter to come closer to you. "I'm not like other people. I don't care that you're a poor girl. It doesn't mean anything. It doesn't define who you are."

"Are you telling me you know me?"

"Partly. I know you hate your social status, but you're nice," he said, tucking a flyaway hair behind your ear. "You have your heart on your sleeve. Despite what happened with your uncle and aunt, you were helping them. I know that despite everything, you love Charlie with all your heart. You have a good person (Y/N). You inherit my happiness. Let me give you all this."

You felt like your heart was going to explode and you were sure that your cheeks were as red as the wrappers of his famous chocolate. You swallowed hard, unable to help but laugh nervously.

"I feel like I'm hearing a statement," you say, fiddling with your fingers nervously.

"What if there was one?"

Alright, there you were pretty sure your face had turned crimson. You mumbled incomprehensible words, trying to create some sort of sentence. Your confusion greatly amused the chocolatier. Willy ran his fingers over your cheek, pressing his lips to your forehead before stepping back to get ready. You let out your breath when you heard the bathroom door close. Did Willy really just tell you that he wanted you to stay with him because he wanted to make you happy? Was he telling the truth or was he making fun of you?

(o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o)

Two weeks passed.

Two weeks you lived in the chocolate factory and watched TV. Even though Willy had told you he wanted to make you happy, you were still so unhappy. Willy had tried to entertain you and occupy your mind as best he could. He had taken the time to show you around the rest of his chocolate factory, he had shown you how he made his famous chocolate bars, but you were still concerned about the Bucket family and what they had done to you.

Every night, you had nightmares of Willy throwing you out, you saw your uncle and your aunt throwing you out again, Bill who made fun of everything or Mrs Beauregarde insulting you by clinging to Willy. Tonight was no exception to this rule. You woke up with a start and terrified, forcing Willy to abandon his work to come and console you and reassure you. You couldn't help wondering how long he was going to put up with you. You prevented him from working and you knew that the purchase of his sweets fell even more. You were definitely going to ruin it.

"I can't stay here anymore," you say between sobs.

"Barley sugar, you just had a bad dream. I would never kick you out, you know that," he said, cupping your face in his hands.

"I'm not talking about that," you say stepping back. "It's my fault that your sweets have dropped even more! I'm just a dead weight preventing you from working properly! I...I don't..."

"(Y/N). (Y/N) look at me."

You shook your head, clutching the blanket in your hands. You had had enough of this whole situation. Of your discomfort. You felt like the last of the fools. You just wanted to be quiet and not feel like a burden on others anymore. Willy places his fingers under your chin, forcing you to raise your head and stare at him. The chocolatier pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"It's not your fault that my treats are selling less. I'm solely to blame for that," he said, sighing and stepping back. "I'm completely lost. I hesitate about everything, I don't know what taste to give them, I change my mind every two minutes. Since the visit, nothing works as I would like and as..."

Willy fell silent, you saw a spark run through his eyes. A huge smile appeared on his lips. The chocolatier had come to the conclusion that the candies looked like him and since he was bad, his candies were bad because of it. You wiped away your tears, looking puzzled at Willy as he smiled at you.

"We're going to have to go see Charlie."

What?

[ssuperficialspacecadett]

Friday Fight Night

Chapter Four of the Through the Scope series | Chapter Five

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 3.4K

Chapter Overview: You help Benny and the guys get ready for FFN.

Notes: this chapter is just a bit shorter than what i usually like to post, but i didn't have a lot of time to write this week & i'm actually content with where i ended it ! sometimes u just have to stop a little short so u don't just start typing random shit to meet a bullshit word count u give urself u know? i updated the tag list so if i missed u PLZ LET ME KNOW & i will add u asap !! well as usual...my asks are always open & happy reading <3

*no use of y/n & female presenting reader*

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Why is this so difficult? It's just like every other day at work, except for the fact that it's not. You have been standing in front of your closet for a good 10 minutes now just looking at your clothes. Suddenly nothing seems good enough to wear. Maybe something would be good enough if you knew how to dress for a fight. Should you wear workout gear? No, you weren’t the one fighting. Should you wear a tank top and a tennis skirt? Probably not if it gets as rowdy as Benny says it will. 

“Just pick a fucking outfit, you idiot.” You chastise. 

After yet another once over of your closet you pick out a worn, white t-shirt with an image of Speed Racer on it. It had definitely seen its glory days years ago when you were still in college. If it worked then, it should work now. You take it off its hanger, along with some jeans, and put it all on. You’re tying your shoes when your phone chimes next to you. 

???: Hey, we will be getting to the gym around closing time. Are you staying to help Benny set up? 

???: Oh, this is Frankie BTW

Seeing his name on your screen makes your chest tighten with excitement. You obviously gave him your number so he could text you, but now it feels so real. Something about Frankie texting ‘BTW’ makes you giggle to yourself as you sit on the floor.

You: Yes, I figured I would make myself useful. No point in going home since the fights start at 10:00 P.M. and I might lose my parking spot.

You have to set your phone down before you overthink the most basic text you have ever sent in your life. Just for good measure, you leave it on your bed while you go into the bathroom. Despite your best efforts to remain nonchalant about the whole situation, you find yourself putting on a little more makeup than usual. By the time you have wrapped up and returned to your room an unread text is waiting for you. 

Frankie: Good thinking. See you tonight then.

The rest of your morning has a bit more pep in it than before.

***

Your day at the gym passes by as usual. The only two exceptions were a truck load of last minute Friday Fight Night tickets sales and then compliments on how the gym was smelling. You made a mental note to smack Benny upside the head for throwing such a temper tantrum about it. In between customers you found yourself checking your phone more than you regularly do. You told yourself that it was just because you were excited about the fights and were counting down the minutes and not because you were hoping to receive another text from Frankie. Unfortunately, lying to yourself never really works out. 

In an effort to keep yourself occupied, you answer emails from people that are applying for a gym membership, make laps around the gym to see if you need to replace any of the wipes used to clean the machines, and collect all of the dirty towels for a load of laundry. Much to your dismay, these tasks don’t take very long to complete. By 3:30 P.M. you reluctantly slink back to the front desk where the single most unwanted guest is waiting. 

“There she is! My favorite receptionist! I’m still interested in knowing your name, darlin’.” 

“Good afternoon, Brunson.” You plop yourself down in your chair and pull up the schedule on the computer. “Just working out today? I don’t see that you’re with Benny.”

“You caught me. I want to make sure that I’m in good shape when I fight in a few weeks time.” 

For a few blissful seconds you allow yourself to indulge in the idea of Brunson getting clocked, hard, right in the jaw. 

“Well, enjoy yourself.” You scan his card quickly in an attempt to move him on his way.

“I always do so when you’re here.” He clicks his tongue at you while he walks past your desk. 

“God, he’s insufferable.” You mumble to yourself.

It’s 4:00 P.M. when Benny finally ventures up to the front lobby with you.

“Where have you been? I feel like I haven’t seen you all day, man.”

“Because you haven’t,” He covers his face with his hands and whines into them before coming back up for air. “At first I couldn’t find where the white board I used to write out the fightin’ pairs was. Then there was somethin’ wrong with the beer delivery and they kept me out back for fuckin’ ever. That isn’t even coverin’ all the one on one sessions I've had today or the ones I’m still goin’ to have.”

It’s breaking your heart to see how stressed out he’s getting with all of the things he has to juggle today. You get out of your chair, walk over to him, and rub on his shoulder comfortingly. 

“It’s going to be alright, Benny. I’m staying after work to help you set up and Frankie told me that the guys are coming to help around closing too. You won't be in this alone for much longer.”

He places both of his hands on his hips and exhales deeply.

“Thank you,” You can see the earnestness in his eyes. “I really appreciate it.”

“Of course. That’s what friends are for, right?”

He smiles down at you from his 6’2 frame and before you can move he pulls you in for a deadly tight hug.

“Benny!” You can’t stop laughing. “Let me go this fucking instant!”

“Friends like hugs from other friends, right?” He yells over your incessant protesting. 

“I’m going to kill you, you know that?!” Your tone of voice doesn’t even sound remotely serious. 

Eventually you get him to unlatch himself from you so the two of you can finish up the work day in order to prepare for this evening.

***

You stand back proudly and admire all of your handiwork. Benny put you in charge of setting up the beer table, so set up the beer table you did. You designed a poster to hang on the wall above the table so people would be able to clearly see their options and their respective prices. You set a long, metal tub in the center of the table and filled it halfway with ice. Then you made a little arrangement out of the beer and poured the last half of the ice on it to keep it cold. The cash box was fully stocked and set to the side. All in all, you did a pretty good job. Thankfully, one of Benny’s regulars volunteered to work it this evening.

“All done over here!” You call over to Benny. “How’s the sign coming?”

You watch in horror as he stands up to reveal a barely legible fighting roster. He must have seen your face flounder when you looked at it because he just tosses the dry erase marker over to you and crosses his arms. 

“Oh, Benny I-”

“I know it looks bad. I’ve never had a knack for all this creative shit.”

You squeeze his hand as you pass him while heading to the white board. He slides over the roster that has been printed on paper for you to use as your guide. You’re so engrossed with your new task that you don’t notice when the guys come in around 8:30 P.M..

“You sure are givin’ Benny a run for his money this evenin’. The place hasn’t looked this put together in…well ever.” That sugary, sweet southern drawl could only belong to one man. 

“Thank you, Will!” You toss over your shoulder.

“Aw screw you, dude. Maybe it would have been if y’all had gotten here when y’all said you would.” Benny notes.

“Blame Fish.” Pope snickers. “He couldn’t find the perfect outfit.” 

That got your interest peaked. You turn around to look at what Frankie is wearing. Regular work boots, soft looking denim jeans, a black undershirt, a worn blue button up with the top few buttons left undone, and finally his cap- oh god he’s looking at you. If you had been a smarter woman, you would have noticed that two thirds of the group standing behind you were looking at your sign. That damned one third of the group was watching you trail your way up his whole body. He’s like an oak; completely unwavering as you take him in. 

“Well, I like it. ” You squeak out as you turn your attention back to the roster. “Now why don’t you guys go make yourselves useful and help Benny?”

You hear a unified ‘yes ma’am’ come from behind you followed by the scattering of three pairs of feet. There truly isn't anything more sexy than men who can follow orders.

All five of y’all work tirelessly for the next hour to get everything finished before the doors open to the public. When you cross off the last item on your to-do list, you decide that you have earned a drink. You sneak over to the beer table and open one of the coolers that you set up behind it that contains the excess bottles. Much to your dismay, the bottle caps don't twist off like you originally thought. You’re on your knees looking around in the extra bags and praying that Benny had the foresight to get a bottle opener when Frankie walks up next to you. 

“Lose something?”

“Just my dignity trying to locate the stupid fucking bottle opener.”

He laughs jovially as he extends his hand to help you up. You take it and sheepishly hand him your bottle when he motions for it. The two of you walk around to the front of the table and you watch as he easily takes out his keys and pops the cap open with a bottle opener he had attached to them. You notice that instead of tossing the cap in the trash he places it back in his pocket along with his keys. Right when he starts to hand the drink back to you he pulls it back towards him. 

“Hey! What gives?”

“I have to test it to make sure it isn’t poisonous or something.”

“Oh my god, you dick.” You lean back on the table behind you.

“You won’t be saying that when I save your life.” He takes a small sip and passes it over to you. “Nope. It’s not poison. You’re in the clear.”

Now it’s your turn. You turn to look out at the gym while you take a drink of your well deserved reward. 

“Wait,” You look over at Frankie. “What if it's a slow acting poison and now we are both infected? I guess you have to stay here and finish this with me so we can go out together.”

He leisurely reclines next to you on the table and takes the bottle in his hand when you offer it to him. “That's some pretty sound logic. I can’t argue with that.”

You try to stop yourself, but you watch as he brings the frosty glass to his pouty lips. They look more pink than usual against the dark color of the bottle. His hands make the beer bottle look so much smaller than it really is. Your eyes wander to that nose you’re so fond of. God, what would it feel like on your clit as he ate his fill of you? Now that you’re closer to him you’re able to see the gray that's intricately woven into his beard and hair. Would it tickle the inside of your thighs when he buried his face in your pussy? Feelings you haven’t had for a man in a long time rock through your body the further you sink into your fantasy. Drifting even further, his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows the chilled liquid. You want to decorate the sensitive skin with blossoming purple marks. 

“What?” He’s looking at you now. “Do I have something on my face?”

“No,” You say almost breathlessly. “I just wanted to make sure you didn’t hog it all.”

“I would never.” The low baritone of his voice reverberates through you. 

Benny, thankfully, yells from across the gym at the both of y’all before you do something questionable. 

“Hey, lazy asses! It’s showtime!”

You and Frankie both let out a breath neither of y’all realized you were holding. He looks down at his watch and then faces his friend with a mild look of annoyance.

“It’s 9:30, man. It’s just the boxers and the ring girls coming in right now.”

You notice that Frankie’s body immediately tenses up after he says this. Confused, you look over at Benny who has eyes as bright as the sun and is making a beeline towards you. 

“I’m sorry.” Frankie whispers down to you. “I’m so sorry.”

“Benny? What are you-?”

“I have a proposition for you.” He says while gripping both sides of your arms. “Do you wanna hear it?”

“I don’t think I have a choice by the look of things.”

“Please be my ring girl.” He gasps.

“Oh my god.” You let your head roll back. “Benny, are you serious right now?”

“Don’t say no yet. Just think about it before you decide.” 

You roll your head over to face Frankie and raise your eyebrows. You’re met with a shrug that is just as innocent as his grin.

“Does this offer have an expiration date?” You inquire shifting your focus back to the man that currently has you in a vice grip. 

“Just think about it.” He pleads.

“Fine, but I’m pretty sure I’m gonna say n-”

“La-la-la! I can’t hear you! La-la-la!”

“Don’t you have fighters to go hype up in the locker room?” Frankie cuts in.

“Nothin’ I hate more than when you’re right, Fish. Catch y’all in between the matches!”

With one final ‘think about it’, he bounds off into the locker rooms. All you can do is laugh hysterically at what just transpired. Frankie probably thinks you have lost your mind with the way you are doubled over right now. 

“Hey let us in on the joke, why don’t you?” Pope sits next to you on the table. 

“I could use a good laugh as well.” Will adds blithely.

“What you two could use is a reality check.” you walk around the table and grab a beer for each of them. “God, I can’t believe him.”

You hand Will and Pope their drinks completely forgetting about taking the tops off. Fortunately, that didn’t stop them. Will snatches Pope’s beer out of his hand and positions the bottles where one has its cap resting just barely on the edge of the other's cap. Then he slams them down on his knee and Pope’s opens with ease. After he hands the open one off, he pops his own with a thick ring he’s wearing. 

“I’m thoroughly impressed, Will. What the hell was that?”

“You just gotta learn to make due sometimes.” 

Frankie and Pope both mutter ‘show-off’ under their breaths as Will explains to you the physics behind his little trick. 

“Okay, now back to what Benny was talking about.” You adjust your stance so you can better face the group. “Are y’all in on this? This ‘ring girl’ shit?”

“Can’t say it wouldn’t be fun though.” Pope prods his finger at you. 

“Oh, yes I can.” You say swatting at him.

“You know, Benny. Once he sets his mind to somethin’ he’s pretty determined to see it through.”

“That doesn’t even begin to answer my question, Will.” You groan as you take the beer from Frankie’s hand. 

The movements between y’all are so natural, so fluid that it feels like something you have been doing for years. You see Pope, almost in shock, watch you as you take a drink.

“Can I get some of that?”

“No way, man.” You shelter the bottle against your body. “Three is a crowd and you literally have an open one in your hand.”

“Will’s right,” Frankie reasons with you. “Benny is as one track minded as they come.”

“Tell him to get on another track then.”

“How about this?” Pope counters. “You go into the locker room with Benny and see what it takes to be a ring girl. Then and only then will he accept your answer of ‘no’ if that’s still what you want.”

“If that will get him off my case then that's fine with me.” 

You start to turn towards the locker room doors when a blue sleeved arm reaches over your shoulder and plucks the beer from you. 

“Hey, give that back!”

“I just want to make sure you don’t hog it all.” Frankie’s tone is thick with sarcasm.

“I would never.” You grin.

Pope waits until you have cleared the locker room doors before he whacks Frankie in the shoulder. Unfortunately, Frankie doesn’t see it coming because he is too busy hoping to catch one more glimpse of you.

“If that's how you act around women you think are ‘just cool’ then I’m terrified to see how you act around women you actually like.”

“The fuck was that for? And the fuck are you talking about, man?” He massages the spot where Pope smacked him. 

“Will, please tell me you aren’t as blind as he is?”

“Sorry, Fish. I see it too.”

“See what?”

“That you look like a goddamn catfish whenever you look at her! Eyes all big and mouth agape.”

“I do not.” Frankie mutters. 

“Come on.” Pope folds his arms across his chest. “You think she’s cute.”

“What are we in middle school? You’re being ridiculous. Will?” 

“I’ll be honest, I wanna know too.” He flashes that signature boyish Miller smile.

All Frankie can do is laugh nervously while he removes his cap and runs his fingers through his hair. He knows that he’s in the middle of a losing battle and that he’ll have to concede. They are going to be ecstatic that a woman other than Rochelle has caught his eye. Especially when it's a woman that meshes so naturally with their group. No, what’s stopping him is that a part of himself wants to keep it a secret. To have something that is just his. No prying eyes, no unwanted advice, no consequences, and no one else has to get hurt but him. As soon as the acknowledgement of his affection for you falls from his lips, it's real. As selfish as it sounds, he wants to keep you at arms length. He feels like everything he touches breaks and he doesn’t want you to become the next casualty. You wouldn’t want him if you knew the truth about the things he has done. But then you smile or laugh and he can feel himself falling deeper and deeper into his delusions of grandeur. 

“Well, if you don’t like her then maybe I’ll ask her out.”

“No, you won't because,” Frankie puts his cap back on. “I think she’s cute. Are y’all happy? I like her.”

“Atta boy, Fish!” Will cheers. 

“I knew it!” Pope says as he pulls Frankie in for a hug. “She’s a good one, man.”

“I know she is. I just don’t know if I’m going to do anything about it right now.”

Will’s hand comes to rest on his shoulder. “Why’s that?” 

“I don’t want to fuck it up. To drag her into the shit show that is my life. I don’t even know if she feels the same way either!”

The two other men nod in understanding. Frankie takes a sip of the drink he stole from you and sighs as he looks up at the ceiling. 

“All I know is…is that I like her.”

“Shh!” 

“Pope, you were the one that wanted to talk about this!”

“Shut the fuck up! She's coming!”

“Y’all ready? I’m going to open the doors for everyone!”

The three of them use the time it takes you to unlock the doors and arrive back in order to regroup from their previous conversation.

“Did you,” Will clears his throat. “Did you like the view back there? See a future in being Benny’s ring girl?”

“I like the view from right here, thank you very much.” 

“So,” Pope rubs his hands together. “Who ready to see some dudes get the shit beat out of them?”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

{tag list: @cutesyscreenname @rsquared31 @smol-beb @bitchwitch1981 @avastrasposts @hoeslingz @saltybutteredtoast @javicstories @c-justhere @pimosworld @modernperplexity @beboldbebravethings @modernperplexity @mxtokko @moonliqhtszn @tanzthompson }

[luckkythirt33n]

Just HC a fic of head chef Crowley and FOH/restaurant manager Aziraphale human!AU between me and my brain rot fiend and OH MY God another ongoing fic to write while I wait for my AO3 invite :))))))))) hahah I need help <3

here's it cookin in the dms:

"Okay guys we are 86 the salmon, you got that?? 86 SALMON!"

*ticket machine beeps*

"Wha-whatthe fuck, who rung through a salmon???*

*checks ticket, sees azis name*

"graawhh- ANGEL WHAT THE FUCK DID I JUST SAY?!"

"I beg your finest PARDON, you can't speak to me like that in front of the servers!"

"I just told you 86 salmon, how can someone as brilliant as you be so stupid?!"

"CROWLEY!!"

"THATS CHEF TO YOU!"

[icallhimjoey]

i know he didnt win the poll, but coffeeshop!joe deserves a short little follow up because i miss him and i want to know how he's doing

GIRL the way i've held onto this request for weeks because i wanted to use this for @ghostinthebackofyourhead's birthday (which is TODAY surprise, pls go wish her a happy birthday, she's the loveliest) im sorry it took forever, but here you go! Wordcount: 1.6K

---

Sunshine Blend Blonde Roast

“I don’t want to... intrude, even though, you kind of make it really impossible not to,” you colleague said whilst finishing up two cappuccinos for a customer as he looked over the machine at Joe.

“Intrude, my guy. You have a free pass to intrude whenever,” you quipped and threw him a plastic lid when you saw him reach for one.

“What did you do?” he said it soft enough for Joe not to hear, but loud enough for you to hear over the music just fine.

You grinned as you wiped down the counters.

“I did absolutely nothing,”

“Then why has he been sat there, glaring at you for... what's it been? Must have nearly been an hour now...”

From behind the coffee machine, the two of you just openly looked at Joe who didn’t shy away from staring right back at you, frowning deeply still.

“Sometimes,” you started, and couldn’t help but laugh before you could finish that sentence. It was the infectious type of giggle. The cackle your co-worker couldn’t help but smile at, even though he had no idea what was so funny.

“Sometimes he gets really mad at me just because I’m just so stinkin' cute,”

You saw Joe narrow his eyes from where he was sat, looking at you over his coffee cup which you knew must have been either empty, or cold by now.

He'd clearly heard you.

“Is that the problem?” you asked, voice louder now. “Am I being too cute today?”

You knew it wasn’t why Joe had sat down at a table by himself, just to wait out your shift. Joe was annoyed that you’d even taken on a shift in the first place, because who the fuck decides to work on their birthday if they don’t have to?

Well. You did.

Because a colleague had asked the full groupchat if someone could cover for him tomorrow, because he’d forgotten he had tickets for a festival, and then no one had replied in over an hour. And, you know, you didn’t really have plans – not that you knew about anyway – so, why not help out a friend?

“Go party, my man, I’ve got you,” you’d texted back and then you’d neglected to tell Joe about it until the next day when you were about to leave to go to work.

Apparently, Joe did have plans for you.

Obviously.

It was your birthday, after all.

“I don’t think that’s the issue,” you colleague said when Joe’s facial expression didn’t falter.

“Oh man, I’m not?” It wasn’t busy in the coffee shop, but the people that were in were all most definitely trying to follow what was currently happening between the loud girl behind the counter and the grumpy man who kept eerily quiet for someone being spoken to like that.

You sucked in air through your teeth and shook your head.

“Dangerous game to play, not calling a girl cute on her birthday, I don’t know how that could ever end well...”

“It’s your birthday?” your colleague had no idea.

“Oh, you’re adorable!” Joe suddenly shouted across the shop, all sarcastic. It just made you grin wider and scrunch up your nose at him.

“Happy birthday!” your colleague said.

“Thank you.” You replied but kept your eye-contact with Joe which was turning more challenging by the second.

“You’re starting to freak out our other customers, though,”

You noticed someone to the side who kind of waited to walk through your line of sight from each other, not wanting to get stuck in the crossfire. A little like they were waiting for one of you to take pic of the other and they didn’t want to ruin the snapshot, which was hilarious.

“No, please," you gestured for them to walk. "Don’t worry about him. He’s all bark, no bite,” you kindly spoke to them as they let out a relieved chuckle before they made their way to the door. The comment made Joe roll his eyes.

The little break from looking at Joe gave your colleague the chance to place two dirty blenders into your hands for you to rinse, and just for a second you got back to work. Sang and moved a bit to the music you had playing, all pleased with yourself because you’d stocked everything up behind the counter, and then had wiped it all clean, so it all looked very nice and organised.

T'was very satisfying.

You fucking loved your job.

“Okay, now he’s starting to freak me out a little bit,”

“Joe, stop staring,” you called, not looking up from your task at hand, and you heard a soft snicker come from his direction.

“I think you’re right,” you then said to your colleague. “I don’t think my overall cuteness is the issue here,”

“I think,” you placed the now rinsed blenders back in their spot and turned back to give Joe a glance. “I think it’s got something to do with Joe not being allowed behind the counter and the fact that he owes me a lot of birthday kisses still,”

“You’ve gotten plenty birthday ki–” Joe called, sort of too loudly for your colleague to be comfortable with.

But you made it worse, because you cut him off with your voice raised even louder, saying “One for every year I’ve been alive, Joe! That’s how birthday kisses work!” You played being annoyed with him, knowing it was all games.

Joe loved being in the coffee shop whilst you worked. Gave him a chance to just sit back and watch you. Just, working. Being yourself. And he got to do all openly without having to pretend he wasn’t looking whenever you glanced over at him.

Instead, he’d just get to smile all dreamily at you, and then you’d smile back all confidently, or pull a silly face to make him laugh. Or, on exceptionally special days, you’d grow a bit shy from his consistent eyes on you, and Joe would make you blush. Those were his favourite days.

Also, Joe was allowed behind the counter. There just couldn’t be other customers in store, because if there were other customers, there was work, and Joe wasn’t meant to distract you from doing your actual job.

Your boss had come down hard on the two of you more than once, so you followed the rules. Behaved like the good boy and good girl you were, not wanting to be yelled at again by your superior.

It’s why you’d noticed that there was just one other person left now, and they had started putting their coat back on. It’s also why you’d noticed that Joe had noticed them too.

The door hadn’t even fallen fully shut before Joe shot up out of his seat and made his way around with fast footsteps and grabby hands. It made you squeal and want to hide in a panic from him as you laughed, but Joe’s hands found you quick as they took hold of you by the waist. And then, so did his mouth as it latched itself onto yours for a quality birthday kiss.

Full tongue.

Full giggles.

Full shenanigans.

Your colleague didn’t do shenanigans, and he had to push the two of you aside a little as he reached around to pick up everything he needed to go clean the tables people had just sat at.

“It’s her birthday, it’s her birthday,” the two of you could hear him whisper to himself which made you both smile into your kiss.

You loved your job, but your job with Joe in the shop? So much better.

Joe kissed you for a while, all soft and tender, and then broke the kiss to say, "Seven." before diving back in.

Then, not sooner after, Joe broke away again before he muttered, "Eight." and you couldn't help but let a belly laugh escape you, head thrown back and all. It gave Joe the chance to giggle into your neck for a moment.

"I don't think the first six ones really count, I don't remember them," you joked and you could hear your colleague scoff loudly from across the shop. He was so done with your shit.

Fortunately, Joe kind of loved your shit.

Joe leant in once more to kiss you all soft and sweet, and then said, "Three." before leaning back enough to take in your lovesick dopey grin, not unlike his own.

It was your birthday, and if you said those kisses didn't count, they didn't count.

The door of the shop opened and new customers walked in, promptly ending the cute romantic little moment you had going.

"You want another coffee?" you asked Joe before you were willing to let go of him completely.

Your colleague came around to help the people who'd just stepped inside, because he was collegiate like that.

"I'd love one," Joe said, leaning in for a last quick peck before half-jogging his way back around the counter into allowed territory. Customer territory.

"One large americano, coming up,"

"Actually," Joe stopped just before he was about to sit down in the same spot he always sat when he came to visit you at work. "Surprise me."

And if that didn't make it the best fucking birthday ever, you didn't what would.

It was your birthday and if you wanted to work on your birthday, you could. If you wanted to kiss Joe behind the counter for a bit, you could. And if you wanted to make Joe a ridiculously sweet wild colourful iced proper milkshake of a coffee, you absolutely could.

"Happy birthday to me," you smiled as you scooped ice into a blender, glancing up at Joe who had now sat down again, his chin resting on top his fist as he smiled at you all smugly. Look how happy he made you.

"Happy birthday to you, babe."

---

The Taglisted: 

@ghostinthebackofyourhead @dirtyeddietini @jasminearondottir @josephquinned @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @thefemininemystiquee @alana4610 @emmamooney @thatonefan-girl @paola-carter @figmentofquinn @haylaansmi @thewondernanazombie @munsonmunster @kellysimagines @mybffjoe @chaoticgood-munson @sherrylyn628 @bdpst-massacre @05secondsofsexgods @lovelyblueness @adoreyouusugar @nadixq @prozacandnicotine @munsonswhore86 @alwayslindie @breddiemunson @eddie-joe-munson @ali-in-w0nderland @pepperstories @phyllosilicate-s @thebellenouvelle @luvrsbian @joesquinns @choke-me-eddie @alizztor @jnnyrd @did-it-work @capricornrisingsstuff @quinnsmunson @frogers @kennedy-brooke @daleyeahson @eddielives1986 @harringtonfan4 @sadbitchfangirl

(taglist currently full, sorry)

[heartscrypt]

wip review wednesday (it is not fucking wednesday)

rb the art im talking abt here to support me : )

i wanted to do something a lil new and actually talk through my choices in the artwork in the post so like if you're not here for commentary. i put everything under a read more!!!!

ok so here's a basic breakdown of what everyone is doing in the piece. or supposed to be doing. you can zoom in on shit to verify if u want

jamiazu: obviously jamil is beating azul at ddr. less obviously azul is sweating because this is actually not the first round of ddr. he has lost horribly in two other rounds but he's not giving up (he should give up)

tweels: they're both judging azul because they know he's horrible at cardio so what in the world is that boy doing on that dance machine. jade is making snide remarks about azul's lack of balance behind his hand and floyd's listening in amusement

adeucepel: epel just won an impossible amount of tickets at skeeball. apparently his aim is really good thanks to some carnival game in his home town. deuce is being excitedly supportive and helping him gather the tickets. ace is arguing that he should get a share because he totally helped epel score (he didn't)

rookvil: they're looking at the ticket prizes. vil is scrutinizing the cheap mass produced quality. rook is just happy to have his arm around her waist and equally happy to listen to her sharp criticism. shes so beautiful when shes annoyed♥️

diasomnia: silver is attempting to figure out the card machine in order to get a play card for malleus. malleus was not told that they were going to the arcade (hes definitely not dressed for it) but is honestly happy to just be there and is volunteering to try his hand at the machine (five seconds after this scene he will break it on accident). sebek is running over to yell at silver for not being able to figure out the card machine (he's also not able to figure it out). lilia is watching his kids from the inside of a ghostbusters shooter booth game. you know the ones

idikei: idia is destroying some zombies in a shooter game. cater is actually not playing. he's got his phone in his hand and he's just talking At idia while idia plays

ruggie: he's actually judging jamil. raising his eyebrows at jamil even bothering to play against azul who is clearly not even at his skill level. bro this is not even fair game

part of my art process for this piece was getting outfit suggestions from my friends so to everyone who complimented the outfit choices in the tags im pulling back the curtains. i have a million mice running around in my brain (my friends). here are some funny snippets (i did not put idia in a squid games shirt. i did give him crocs though)

[heartxshaped-bruises]

✧･ﾟ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐙𝐈 𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐙𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒

tw: swearing, mentions of death, NSFW

"Every new thing you say makes me yearn for the sweet embrace of death."

"So you're not gonna kill me, you're gonna queer-eye me?"

"Okay, can I be honest with you? I'd lie to you for money."

"You're hotter than the flames you're about to be engulfed in."

"What's the point of killing someone who wants it? Where's the thrill in that?"

"I didn't ask for this. You gave me two very terrible options."

"That's what you think I'm doing? I'm just trying to make conversation."

"I don't like you."

"I wish it was socially acceptable to tell you that I wanna kill you with a hammer."

"The real burning is the burning desire that I feel for you."

"You know, I'm not gonna be the same person after that experience."

"Everytime you enter a public space that I'm occupying, my entire body stiffens."

"This isn't 'hanging out', you're trying to kill me!"

"I don't go to the gym because I sweat, and sweating is really just your pores crying, and crying is weak."

"Ohh, I can't? What are you gonna do? Kill me?"

"You would choose satan before a guy who can actually take care of you."

"I'm here to ask you to take the soul of an influencer I follow."

"Are you hitting on me before my execution?"

"Your tears are my lubricant."

"Am I gonna have to play the tooth-fairy in this scenario?"

"Wow. It's honestly really refreshing to see you all excited for once."

"Don't mouth me off, I know exactly what you're doing in your spare time."

"You're lucky I don't call the FBI."

"Okay, au revoir, bitch! I'm buying myself a first-class ticket to hell!"

"Would you be interested in entering a new dimension with me next week?"

"If it was the purge, you'd be the first one on my fucking list."

"You're an inspiration for young serial killers out there."

"It turned a little bit into a, uh... Lord Of The Flies situation."

"Your skin is so nice, by the way - you'd make a nice purse."

"I'm just messing with you, relax."

"My ideal girl is young enough to be my daughter, but treats me like my mom."

"Why would I tell you my biggest weakness? Are you up to something?"

"If you think about it, step-bro was just helping step-sis out because she was stuck in the laundry machine."

"Did I suck off someone important and like, forgot about it or why am I getting rewarded?"

[anopenbookunderlockandkey]

The 118 Turtles Chat

Buck: EDS! HEY HEY EDS!

Bobby: Buck, this is the group chat

Buck: I know but he’s not answering me in our chat or my phone calls and Chris’ phone is off

Hen: maybe because it’s 8:45am after 3 nights of 7-7 shifts

Buck: but the turtles!

Bobby: turtles?

Buck: yes, the turtles! 🐢

Hen: Bobby, why’re you humoring him?

Buck: because Bobby knows how excited Christopher is to see the baby turtles at the aquarium! We have to get there at 10am when tickets go on sale

Hen: ever hear of buying things online?

Buck: you can’t! And they need to come with me cause the turtle exhibit opens at 10:15

Buck: will you guys please call and text Eddie too???

Chim: No

Buck: if you’re nice I’ll bring my niece too 😇

Chim: Eddie, wake up so Uncle Buck can bring your son and my daughter to see the turtles

Hen: what if my kids or Bobby’s kids wanted to go???

Buck: it’s family day

Chim: yeah Hen duh it’s family day 🤪

Hen: if Eddie is family we’re all family

Bobby: I tried calling Eddie, he didn’t answer me either

Buck: see! I told you, he sleeps like the dead, like me if you will 💀

Bobby: stop joking about being dead Buck

Buck: what’s the point of living if I can’t joke about dying

Chim: maybe Denny should call Chris on the Xbox, he’ll answer for his video game friends

Hen: don’t bring my child into this

Buck: yes! Please Hen! Have Denny go and see if Chris is on, it’s Saturday morning and his dad is asleep, he’s definitely taking advantage of that

Chim: I texted Denny, said he’s playing games with Chris

Buck: Hen! Hen! Henrietta my favorite, please go talk to Chris and have him wake up his dad, promise him pancakes

Chim: Denny says he won’t tell Chris unless he also gets to see the turtles

Bobby: but it’s family day for Eddie, Buck, and Chris

Chim: Denny says he also wants pancakes and for his mom to be Buck’s slave for a day

Buck: HEN HEN I NEED YOU, PLEASE HEN, THE BABY TURTLES 🐢

Hen: Calm down Turtle boy, Chim didn’t text Denny, Denny is asleep in his bed like I’d like to be

Buck: … this is about THE TURTLES. we need to actually talk to one of them

Bobby: why don’t you just go over there?

Buck: if I drive there and back it will take too long, they need to meet me at the aquarium

Buck: I’ve checked Instagram, there’s already a line for tickets, the turtles are a BIG DEAL

Hen: fine, I’ll call Eddie

Buck: HENRIETTA WILSON YOU ARE THE BEST

Hen: dammit he’s not answering his home phone either, has anyone ever heard his answering machine

Chim: hahahaha yes, last time I left a message on that thing I had to click five different buttons, it’s set up like an office phone, different extensions for him, Chris, and Buck

Buck: home phone?

Hen: you didn’t know Eddie has a landline?

Chim: yes Buck, back in the Stone Age we had wired phones

Bobby: but you’re an option on the answering machine?

Chim: CODEPENDENT

Hen: I need the telephone gods to smile down on me as I make this next phone call and let Eddie wake up, I need to sleep

Bobby: if he hasn’t woken up by now I don’t think there’s a chance

Buck: Bobby! don’t say that, we need to see the turtles!!!

Ravi: why don’t you check location sharing? Maybe he’s not home and his phone is still on silent from being on shift

Buck: great idea! See guys, this is being helpful

Hen: you think mr hates technology has location sharing on?

Ravi: you think he’d know how to turn that default setting off?

Chim: we’ve all been calling him and being helpful, I take offense turtle boy

Buck: Ravi, you’re the best!

Hen: oh thank god, you found Eddie?

*15 minutes pass*

Hen: Buck did you reach Eddie?

*10 minutes pass*

Hen: Buck, it’s almost 10am, and you are the reason I could not sleep, did you guys get in line for the damn turtle tickets?

*20 minutes pass*

Hen: after all that I didn’t even get to know if you saw the turtles?!

Eddie: (image of Buck, Chris and Jee with baby turtles)

Buck: 🐢🐢🐢

Bobby: have a fun family day!

Hen: Eddie, why the fuck didn’t you answer your phone???

Eddie: I left it in Buck’s jeep when he dropped me off after our shift

Hen: I have no words

Buck: 😇 🐢

For @professionalprocrastinator22 and the fun real life phone tag her family played about turtles that inspired this. And for @gravelyhalversobbing and her love of turtles.

[hollywoodxwhore]

Ours | Chapter 9

Colson x Presley (Original Female Character)

Synopsis: Presley and Colson fell in love accidentally, but they were meant to be. Now that all the obstacles have been removed, they're moving in together in LA. Now, they have all the time in the world for Colson to teach Presley all of the things he knows. This fic is the sequel to Mine, which can be found in my masterlist!

Warnings/Content: Smut (18+), swearing, fluffy romantic shit, col and pres getting married

I couldn't wait any longer.

Colson

Three Months Later

“We’re motherfucking number one!” Rook’s voice is a scream, startling all of us. Somehow, he was the first one to read the text and now the rest of us scramble to grab our phones, reading the group text. 

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Cash says, eyes wide as he looks around at each of us. “Is this real?”

“Get used to it,” Slim says with a happy laugh, clapping Cash on the back. “Only number ones from here on out.”

I’m speechless. Normally, my reaction is to jump up and scream, but in this moment, I’m shell shocked. Deep down, I was scared that it was a fluke, that Tickets hit at just the right time and people were so startled by its newness that they couldn’t help but listen. Releasing Mainstream Sellout was, quite honestly, terrifying.

It’s darker than Tickets. It’s my diary, essentially, my soul bared for my fans and critics to analyze, to judge. As much as I want to make music just because I love it, as little as I want to care about fame, I wanted a number one so desperately that I was almost insane about it. Could we do it again? Were we only good for one pop punk album? Was the Machine Gun Kelly craze here and gone before we knew it?

Realistically, I know I have fans that will ride til the end, no matter what type of music we make. But what if we lose some? What if they’re sick of the pop punk vibe and want rap back and can’t wait until we release another rap album? I’ve been torn about this album for a long time. We delayed the release date twice before Slim finally told me to fuck off and gave permission to release it.

And here we are with our second rock album going number one.

“Colson.” I shake my head a little, coming out of my daze to realize that Presley has been saying my name repeatedly. I look at her sheepishly and rub the back of my neck. My fiancee’s beautiful green eyes sparkle with amusement and she chuckles. “Where’d you go, baby?” she asks, resting her hand on my shoulder.

I reach over and pull her into my arms, squeezing her tight. She climbs into my lap, embracing me, and I close my eyes. “Sorry,” I murmur into her hair. “Just doesn’t feel real. I didn’t think it was going to happen,” I confess.

I can feel her smile against my neck. She presses a kiss there. “I did,” she says simply, then gets off my lap. I look at her for a moment and I realize that she really means it. She never doubted for a second that we’d go number one. 

When Megan and I were together, she tried so hard to convince me that pop punk wasn’t the way to go. “You can’t just switch genres,” she said, that grimace that was so often on her face apparent. 

I frowned. “We’re not switching genres,” I argued defensively. “We’ve always done rock. We’ve always had guitar and singing on our albums.” It occurred to me all of a sudden that maybe Megan had lied to me. If she’d listened to our old stuff like she claimed she did, then she would know this. She would never say something so insulting.

She rolled her eyes. “I’m bored.” I was working; we were in the studio, but when she stood up and took off her dress before crawling into my lap, I knew work was going to be delayed. I sighed and tried to pretend that she hadn’t hurt me. 

Now my girl sits beside me beaming with pride as I hug and high five my band, celebrating our second number one rock album. Megan was wrong in so many ways. The longer I’m with Presley, the more and more the pain of Megan fades. Pres is healing me without even meaning to.

Later that night when Presley and I are celebrating in our bed, her back to my chest with my hand wrapped in her silky black hair, I feel such a burst of love for her that it’s almost overwhelming. I keep one arm wrapped around her waist as I kiss her neck, groaning. “Presley, baby, I love you so much.”

“Col,” Pres whines as I fuck into her, her ass shaking against my hips.

“Pres,” I pant. “I don’t want to wait. Let’s get married.”

“Right now?” Presley cries, curling her hand around my wrist, but I don’t stop fucking her.

“Not right now,” I say with a breathless laugh. “Let’s fucking go to Vegas and just do it.”

“Colson,” Presley says, but it melts into a moan. “Are you serious? I don’t want to go to Vegas,” she says, bewildered. “T-too many people.”

I laugh into her neck, biting down gently. “Then let’s go to the courthouse,” I pant. “Cash and Liv can be our witnesses.”

“Please don’t talk about my brother when I can feel you behind my fucking belly button,” Presley groans, and I start to laugh so hard that we lose balance. Presley falls forward onto her stomach and I follow, rutting against her. We’re both too close to stop this and have a real conversation, so I speed things up, slipping a hand beneath her hips.

Presley whimpers and fists the sheets as I rub circles in her clit, and I hold off until I feel her start to clench around me. We come at the same time, our sounds mingling in the warm air around us. When we’re done, I roll off of Pres and grab some tissues, breathing hard.

Once she’s cleaned up, I pull her onto my chest, tip her chin up, and kiss her. I kiss her with everything in me. With all the love and pride and joy I feel. Presley melts on top of me and makes a soft, helpless sound, and I know I have her. She doesn’t want to wait either. I want her to be my wife. 

It’s crazy to think we met in September, got together in October, and now, in April, I’m ready to marry her. I guess it’s true what they say: when you know, you know.

“Cols?” Presley murmurs, breaking me from my thoughts. I look down at her and bite my lip. She looks extra beautiful like this, hair messy and eyes glassy with pleasure. I can’t help but kiss her swollen lips once more. “I don’t want a big wedding,” she says.

“No?” I ask, hope rising in my chest.

Presley shakes her head. “No. I don’t even want one,” she admits. “Did you mean it? Do you really want to go to the courthouse? Because if that’s what you want…” I can tell just by the way she talks about it that she’s relieved by the thought of not having a huge wedding. She likes simple things, and a courthouse wedding just might be perfect for my girl.

“Pres, I’d marry you however and wherever and whenever you want,” I tell her, tucking her hair behind her ear. “All I care about is that I’m marrying you.” 

Presley bites her lip. “You won’t be disappointed if we get married at the courthouse?”

I shake my head, grinning. “No, baby. I’ll be thrilled.”

“We’ll have to put off our honeymoon,” she says. “Too much to do with the new album.”

I shrug. “We’ll figure it out,” I tell her, stroking her cheek. 

“Col?”

“Hm?”

“Thank you.” Her voice is small. My brow furrows and I tilt my head a little so I can see her better. The blinds are open and the light from the moon casts a silvery shadow over the bed, illuminating Presley’s face. The shadows of her eyelashes are outlined on her cheeks and she looks almost ethereal, like she couldn’t possibly be real.

“For what?” I ask, a little breathless with my love for her.

“For knowing me.” She bites her lip and my heart skips a beat. I’m quiet, giving her time to sort out her thoughts. “For not wanting to change who I am but for embracing it. I was so scared when I met you. Of everything.” 

I know this is true. It breaks my heart to know she lived in fear for so long. I lift her hand to my lips and press gentle kisses to her fingertips.

“You showed me I don’t have to be afraid,” she says. “You showed me that I deserve to be loved for exactly who I am.”

“Pres,” I say, voice thick with emotion. “Fuck, baby. You showed me the same damn thing. You know that, right?”

Presley laces our fingers together and nods. “Col, I want to be with you forever,” she says. “I don’t want to live in a world where I’m not yours.”

“Jesus,” I say, shaking my head in awe that someone like Presley could ever love someone like me. I cover her mouth with my own and push a hand into her hair, keeping her face close to mine. Our hearts pound fiercely against one another as her hand slides to my bicep and squeezes. “Marry me,” I say as I break the kiss, “tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Presley laughs right against my mouth, and I love the sound and the taste of it. “Fuck, Colson. I’m going to be your wife tomorrow?”

“Hell yeah, Presley Baker,” I say, and the sound of her name paired with mine makes my stomach flip in the best way. And then, we stop talking entirely, practicing how we’ll consummate our marriage tomorrow. 

Presley said she would marry me today on three conditions.

One - Cash and Olivia will be our witnesses.

Two - We still dress up in our wedding clothes (yes, Presley already has her dress).

Three - We still get to say personal vows. 

I agreed to all three, so here we are, preparing for our wedding in two different places. I slept at Cash and Olivia’s last night so Presley and I wouldn’t see each other on our wedding day until the ceremony. I’m still here, Cash securing a flower to my suit while Olivia and Presley get ready at our house. 

“You sure you want to marry my sister?” Cash jokes as he takes a step back. He’s grinning, dimples carved into his cheeks. “Looks good, man.”

I glance at myself in the mirror. No one can blame me or act surprised by my pale pink suit. I love how it looks, and my hair looks damn good, too. I can only imagine how stunning Presley is going to look. We’re going to have a small “reception” after the ceremony with some of our closest friends. Sam will take pictures, and then we’ll go home to our house as husband and wife. 

“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life,” I admit to Cash as I slip into my shoes. My hands are sweaty as I tuck my vows into the inner pocket of my coat. “You’ve got the rings?”

Cash pats the pocket of his dress pants and nods. “Safe and sound. You ready?”

I take one more look in the mirror. In less than an hour, I will have a wife. “Ready,” I croak.

When we arrive at the courthouse, the girls are already there. Presley is hiding away somewhere while Olivia, Cash, and I talk to the Justice of the Peace. I’m half listening as she explains how the ceremony will go. It’s very simple: the Justice says a few words, we share our vows and exchange rings, she pronounces us married, we sign the marriage license, and boom. 

“Are we ready to get started?” the Justice asks. 

I swallow hard. “Ready,” I say. 

The Justice of the Peace is a woman in her fifties with locs and eyes that crinkle in the corners when she smiles. “Congratulations,” she says, patting my shoulder. 

Olivia and I follow her into the courtroom. Cash is going to be walking Presley down the “aisle”, so he goes to find her. I wipe sweaty hands on my pants as Olivia and I approach the front of the room where the Justice stands. 

“Ready, Col?” Olivia asks, reaching up to fix my hair. “You look great. I’m so happy for you.” Hey eyes brim with tears and I pull her in for a hug.

“Thank you,” I say tightly, trying not to cry. I release her when someone clears their throat, and then, all of my attention is on the woman who is going to be my wife in just a few minutes.

I knew from the first time I saw her that Presley was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. As she stands in the doorway, her arm wrapped around her brother’s, I realize she’s even more beautiful than I ever thought possible.

Her dress is her in every sense of the word. It’s white, per tradition, but it’s sexy as hell while still being classy. Lace drapes over her tall frame as the dress hugs her curves, emphasizing her hips and breasts. Her long hair cascades down her back, pearls decorating the top of her head. Her hair is split in a tight middle part with the top smoothed back behind her ears as the rest hangs loose and flowy. Her makeup is flawless, making her eyes pop, and I can tell she’s wearing heels as she’s closer to Cash’s height than usual.

I have to remind myself to breathe as she smiles at me, bouncing on her toes with excitement. I let out a breathless laugh and press a hand flat to my chest, trying to calm my erratic heartbeat. Cash is beaming as they start to walk toward me. Every second that passes that she isn’t in my arms makes it harder and harder to breathe. This woman is going to be my wife.

Finally, after what feels like forever, Cash and Presley stop in front of me. Cash wraps her in a fierce hug, whispering words to her that I can’t make out. Then, he throws his arms around me in a huge bear hug. “You’re about to be my brother,” he says thickly, and tears sting in my eyes as I hug him so hard it almost hurts. He pulls away, steps aside, and then, all I see is Presley.

She steps forward, giving me her hands, and I let out a breath. Along with it come a few tears, but I don’t even care. I’ve never felt love like this, never felt emotion like this. “Hi baby,” she whispers, and I can tell she’s emotional, too. Her eyes glitter with unshed tears.

“Hi,” I say back, voice rough with emotion. “My god, you’re stunning.”

“You’re gorgeous,” she breathes, and then she’s in my arms. I hold her close, breathing in her intoxicating scent, and close my eyes. After a few moments, we pull back and step in front of the Justice, who’s smiling.

“Wow,” she remarks. “I’ve done this many times and I’m not sure I’ve ever seen two people more in love than the pair of you.”

Presley and I look at each other and beam.

“We are gathered here today to join the two of you in marriage,” the Justice says. “You have chosen to read your own vows. Who will start?”

“Me,” Presley says quickly, and I let go of her hands so Olivia can hand her vows over. Presley clears her throat and I notice her hands are trembling as she unfolds the paper. She meets my eyes and then looks down at her paper. She takes a deep breath and begins.

“Colson Baker. Less than a year ago, you were my celebrity crush. You still are, if I’m being honest. In the time I’ve known you, you have become my everything. My confidant, my inspiration, my safe place. The love of my life and my best friend.

“It’s hard to think that I lived without you for as long as I did. My eyes and my heart were closed to so many things before you. I didn’t know love like this actually existed outside of romance novels, but Col, you’re my real life love story.

“Colson, I promise to always love you and to always like you. I promise to always laugh at your jokes, even the cheesy ones. I promise to be your biggest fan and supporter. I promise to always be backstage or front row at your shows, screaming the loudest for you. I promise to always be your muse and your sounding board for ideas. 

“I promise to build a family with you when we’re ready. I promise to make you so happy that the pain you’ve felt in the past is a distant memory. Colson, I promise that I will always, always be yours, baby. I love you more than life.”

When she finishes, we’re both crying. It’s messy and almost pathetic, and we both laugh wetly when our respective witnesses hand us each a tissue. Once we’re a little more put together, the Justice asks Cash for my ring. He steps forward and hands it to Presley. 

The ring is black with roses on it, engraved on the inside. Presley slips the ring onto my finger. It fits perfectly and I nearly lose my breath looking down at my wedding ring.

“Colson, you may proceed with your vows,” the Justice says.

I nod and swallow hard, pulling my vows from my suit. I unfold the paper and clear my throat, looking at Pres for a long moment before looking at the paper. “Presley Maeve Carver,” I begin. “You came into my life when I needed you most and you never left.

“I had pretty much sworn myself to a life of solitude when we met. I remember when your brother told me to stay away from you. I was so mad, but now that I look back, I can’t blame him. I wasn’t on the right path. But Presley, you helped me find the path I so desperately needed.

“Pres, you’ve shown me what unconditional love is. You’ve shown me that every part of me is worth loving, even the dark parts that I’ve tried so hard to keep hidden. You make me feel so safe and so wholly myself. 

“I promise to love you no matter what happens. I promise to continue to write songs about you. I promise to always stare at you whether you’re dressed like this or wearing no makeup. I promise to hold your hand and kiss you as much as you want. I promise I will never let you down.

“I promise to be the best father to our children and the best husband to you. You make it easy, my love. I can’t wait to spend an eternity with you. I love you, Presley.”

More tears. After another couple of tissues, I slide Presley’s wedding band onto her finger, joining her engagement ring, and we take hands again. I’m shaking but I’m so beyond happy.

“Colson Baker,” the Justice of the Peace says, smiling up at me. “Do you take Presley Maeve Carver to be your wife?”

I look down into Presley’s emerald eyes. “I do,” I say firmly. 

“Presley Maeve Carver,” the Justice continues. “Do you take Colson Baker to be your husband?”

Pres squeezes my hands and smiles widely. “I do.”

“By the power vested in me by the state of California, I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the Justice says. “Colson, you may kiss your bride.”

And fuck, do I.

Presley is in my arms in seconds, her body tipped back as I kiss her, tender and passionate and so full of love. She clings to me as we kiss, our tiny crowd cheering, and god, I don’t ever want to come up for air. I never want to let this woman go.

But I never have to.

Taglist:@triplexdoublex@jaxbreaker@mgklove99xx@jinx-on-mars-19xx@iamnotanearthlingmotherfucker @anonymousme86 @whiteleoqueen @feroniakutenpuu@hxllywoodwhxree

[final-girl96]

Killer Geek Chapter Five

Woodsboro Theater

I set my bag in the back where the employee break room is, took my name tag and clipped it to my shirt before putting my hair up and out of my face, then walked out to the front to help at the concession counter. “What can I get you guys?” I asked a couple who stepped u0 to the counter. “One large popcorn and one medium coke and one medium blue raspberry slushie, please.” I got the popcorn and drinks and rang them up. “That'll be nine-fifty.” The man handed me a ten dollar bill and I gave him his change. “Enjoy the movie.” It went like that all night; I helped at the concession counter and in the ticket booth.

When the last movie let out and people left there were only four of us left working. Two of us, Jillian and Marcus went to clean the theaters, there were only four of them so it wouldn't take them too long. We always tried to keep them clean between each showing. I cleaned up the concession stand, shutting down the popcorn, cheese dispenser, soda, and slushie machines. I took any of the leftover popcorn, which wasn't much, and threw it away. before I went and wiped down the counters and swept the floors. Brady was gathering the trash and taking it out to the dumpsters behind the building.

After forty-five minutes, Jilian and Marcus came out of the back room. “You guys have a good night, I'll see tomorrow,” I said. Jillian smiled, waving a hand, while they walked to the front doors. “See ya, yn!” I walked to the doors, watched them disappear, and got ready to lock the doors. “Alright, all the trash is taken out. The carpets in the lobby and halls are all vacuumed. You sure you don't want me to stay behind?” Brady asked.

Brady was a few years older than me, he graduated last year, and was one of the nicest guys in school. “Yeah, I'm fine. I just need to put the money in the safe and then I'm done,” I told him. “I don't see your brother out there,” he said looking outside. Billy was usually sitting out front impatiently waiting or sometimes Stu is out there waiting. “Yeah, Randy is picking me up tonight, he should be here soon.” He nodded his head, “Maybe I should just wait until he gets here. You shouldn't be here alone,” he said. I laughed nervously, “What do you mean? I've been here alone before,” I said.

“Yeah, but Billy or Stu have always been right out front. I'll wait until Randy gets here,” he said. I shook my head, “I'll be fine, Brady, really. Now go home!” I pushed him towards the door and he reluctantly opened the door. “Okay, okay, fine. I'll see you tomorrow.” I nodded and watched him leave and locked the doors. I went back to the counter and grabbed the money bag off the counter then headed to the office where the safe was. I made sure to double count everything before setting it in the safe and going to grab my stuff.

I locked the office door and shut the lights off on my way. When I walked out to the lobby and looked out the doors Randy still wasn't there. I pulled my lower lip in between my teeth and chewed on it. It was a nervous habit of mine. All kinds of thoughts were starting to bubble up inside my head but before one could burst open a voice froze me dead in my spot.

“He's going to be a little late.”

Randy

When I walked out of the video store, I locked The door behind me and headed for my car. Yn would be getting out of work soon and I wanted to be there before she did. I walked around to the driver's side of my car and opened the door but stopped when I noticed my front tire was flat. “What the fuck?” I closed my door and knelt down beside my car. “God Damnit!” I stood back up and rushed to the store's door, frantically opening it. I needed to get a hold of Billy.

“Hello?”

“Sid, is Billy still there?” I asked in a rush. “No, he went to Stu's. Is everything alright?” She asked. I hummed, “yeah, yeah, everything is fine. Thanks.” I hung up and dialed Stu's number. It rang and rang for what felt like forever. “Yo?” I rolled my eyes at Stu's way of answering the phone. “It's Randy, I need to talk to Billy!”

“What's up, Randy?! Yo, Billy, Randy's on the phone!” Stu yelled into the phone and I held it away from my ear. “So how's it goin’, man?” I huffed and mumbled under my breath about how he was an idiot. It was clear he was high out of his mind. “Give me the phone, dumbass. What? Aren't you supposed to be picking my sister up?” Billy asked with annoyance in his voice.

“My tires were slashed! I'm not going to be able to pick her up but I'm gonna run to the theater and sit with her until you get there.” I hung up the phone without letting him respond. After locking up again I took off down the sidewalk at a jog.

YN

Parker stood by the concession counter. He was leaning on it with his legs crossed at the ankles and his arms crossed over his chest. “How did you get in here?” I asked. He just smiled at me and shook his head. “It doesn't matter. All that matters is we're alone and you don't need to hide your feelings for me.” He pushed off the counter and started towards me. I moved so I was sidestepping him over taking my eyes off of him. “I don't have feelings for you, Parker. I never did and I never will.”

“You'll learn. I mean, you should be grateful that I've chosen you to be my girlfriend. Any girl would die to be in your position,” he moved closer and I moved back even further. “You really are full of yourself.” By now we had traded places. He stood over by the doors and I was closer to the concession counter. All I needed to do was get behind the counter so I could run for the back. If I got to the office and unlocked it in time, got in, locked the door again I could call Billy.

My eyes flicker towards the door and back to Parker. Would I be able to get the door unlocked before he got to me? Probably not but I had to do something. “Don't do anything stupid. I don't want to hurt you, yn. I just want to talk alone without your little friends and your brother getting in the way.” He took small steps every few words and again I took large steps back. “Stop! Don't take another fucking step! We can talk but you need to stay right where you are!” He stopped, putting his hands up in surrender but he had this creep ass smile that made me feel even more uneasy.

Where the fuck is Randy?

“What do you want?” I asked him. My back was pressed against the door to the back room. “I told you what I want. I want you to agree to go out with me.” He was getting more irritated but still had that smile on his smug face. “Well, harassing me isn't going to get you anywhere. Manipulating my brother's friend and my best friend doesn't help you either. Maybe try to be gentle about it instead of demanding it. Ya know ask fucking nicely.”

I turned the knob slowly as I talked but I didn't push in on it yet. “You're right, I'm sorry.” The smile dropped from his face and he stepped back more. “I didn't mean to scare you. I'll just go and um…Come up with a real good way to ask you out; A proper way. A way that is fitting for a beautiful girl like you. I'll just leave the way I came.” He walked towards the hall that led to the back door was, passed the concession counter. “I'll see you at school. Oh and you might want to lock this back door.” He gave me a shrug and a lopsided grin before disappearing down the hall.

I waited for the click of the door shutting and pushed into the back room to the office. I unlocked the door as fast as I could, stepped inside, slammed the door shut, and then locked it. “Fucking hell.” My heart was pounding behind my ribcage and my hands shook.

[probablygayattorneys]

I told my brother that if I never play Azran Legacy then Emmy never leaves and I can keep her in that moment forever

And he decided to lift the burden on me by just telling me why she left, thereby ripping off that bandaid. Only problem is, he’s never played Azran Legacy (or any Layton game, for that matter) so he doesn’t know either. But he wasn’t going to let that stop him, so he came up with a reason. And then a few more, just in case.

These reasons include:

-Roundhouse kicked a high ranking government official and is avoiding trial

-Layton doesn’t kill people… but he doesn’t always save them either, and then the train crashed.

-Took the fall for Two-Face killing cops so Harvey Dent’s legacy will live on

-She was the only one who could disarm the bomb but to keep her wife and kids safe she let Descole break her neck.

-Flashed her titties to everyone and is now off to find new people to flash

-She wasn’t actually the Professor’s assistant, she was his apprentice, but near the end of the game she really deepens her connection with the Force and starts to believe that she can overpower him and become the new Professor… however, when she tried to pull off this fight, it’s over, Emmy, the Professor has the high ground.

-Got a job at Hooters which has been a longtime dream of hers and the Professor told her she absolutely could not abandon her dreams to stay his assistant

-Bees.

-She learned the greatest secret the American government has been trying to keep from the public for years (Obama's last name) and had to be eliminated by any means possible.

-Emmy sacrificed herself to save the rest of them from the balrog but she comes back in New World Of Steam as Emmy the White.

-Got a ticket for the Eras tour and is still stuck in traffic leaving the stadium

-She was in a motorcycle accident and plowed into the side of an airplane hanger. She was so innocent… and stoned, apparently.

-After they all sang Seize the Day, she wasn’t able to escape from the cops and they hauled her off to the refuge.

-It’s not Emmy. The first Emmy you see, the teenage one he helps is Emmy, but every single one since is Don Paolo.

-She was just a courier, meant to deliver something to New Vegas, but the game was rigged from the start.

-Moved to Seattle with Grosky to start their own law office.

-This one just says "Bones"

-Was killed by 30-50 feral hogs that ran into her yard within 3-5 minutes while Luke was playing.

-Drove a segway off a cliff

-Bruce Willis was DEAD the ENTIRE TIME!

-Left a note that says “Professor’s Assistant Emmeline Altava Chooses Death” and then fucked off to Europe or something for a year

-She ran away to be with Descole. She was attracted to his manly figure. His Waluigi like body. His spindly little legs. The cut of his jib, if you will.

-Rode her Vespa into a crowd of people while screaming “PEPSI MAN!”

-Didn’t learn STREET SMARTS from JJ Bittenbinder and went to a secondary location

-“Tell me about the rabbits, Emmy.”

-She’s a Russian sleeper agent sent to kill the professor and it’s just taken so damn long because a good hitman doesn’t leave collateral damage but she finally got Layton away from Luke long enough to get the job done.

-Was at a bar on international women’s day, did two shots and tried to fight another girl which caused an all out full bar fight and she fell into a coma after a third girl hit her over the head with an almost full bottle of Hood River Gin.

-Professor Sycamore’s airship flew her to places she’d never been… now she’s lying on the cold hard ground (goat noise)

-The time machine wasn’t stable enough to keep her in the present and it sent back in time to the moment the time machine exploded, sealing her fate.

-Moved to France to learn how to be a heart surgeon.

-She finally was approved to manage her own Dairy Queen franchise.

-She is dead and has been for the past ten years. The professor needs to let her go. The accident wasn’t his fault.

-She walked to Memphis to become a dentist. Anything but this.

-Most think... She died.

-....But I think we oughta believe she made it to the other side :)