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powderblueblood · 10 months

Note

🎵 + Steve or Eddie please :)

send me 🎵+ character name and i’ll write a lil blurb inspired by a song from their playlist (you can also request songs and i will do my level best. god is a dj and i'm god)

▶ IN MY BED - AMY WINEHOUSE

yours is a familiar face, but that don't make your place safe or you're fucking both steve and eddie on a casual basis and they're kinda clingy and jealous like peanut and butter

an: OH SHE'S SMUTTY. is this on either of the playlists i've made for steve or eddie. technically no. did i just hear it on shuffle and get inspired to write about having a hawkins slut era. technically yes. but the best part is you asked for steve or eddie and you got both, anon!!

MINORS FUCK OFF - warnings: heavy smut from the get-go; unprotected p-in-v, allusions to cunnilingus and fellatio, public sex, semi-mean!reader, leaving steve with blue balls, forceful!eddie, some mild degradation (use of the word slut, etc), hope u enjoy and hope we can coerce them into a threesome some day. it would save reader so much time

word count: 3.6k

You can't keep playing with boys like that, y'know. Somebody's going to get hurt.

As long as that somebody isn't you, you're pretty far past the point of giving a fuck.

You had emerged from the painful chrysalis of Hawkins adolescence with a great rack and a huge fucking chip on your shoulder. So much time wasted, lingering in the limbo of awkwardness and timidity, not even with the credit of being humiliated by your peers. You were glossed over, completely unnoticed by the opposite sex (and even the same sex that you'd daringly fantasize about in the dark of night).

You spent so much time sitting with your hands stuck shyly between your legs that it was only right that King Steve Harrington is now pleadingly prying them apart.

"What time did you say you had to leave, again?" he says, voice strained against the shell of your ear. Steve's fingers are making dents in the softness of your inner thighs as he spreads your legs further and futher away from one another. You're sitting pretty on his kitchen table, a place you'd chosen on purpose because from there, you could flash him the bright blue of your panties under your short, short work skirt.

Work skirt was a loose term, but you found you made better tips at the Hideout when you dressed more scantily than you'd like. Something something clientele, something something dinner and a show.

Something your co-worker had said.

All you knew was whenever you showed up at Steve's dressed for a bar shift, it drove him crazy. It drew him right to you, moth to flame, fly to spider's web, turning him all desperate and whining and eager to please. Like a dog.

"Mmm," you hum, glancing at your watch, "'bout fifteen."

You loved driving Steve crazy. Thrived on it– and part of it was a private revenge fantasy. All those years gone by using him as shower nozzle masturbation material, and now you were the one he couldn't get enough of.

His nose teases at your lips as he continues to massage into your thighs. And you admit, he's good with his hands– deliberate pressure, making the wetness at your core spread.

"Call off. Say you're sick," and his right hand is pulling at the gusset of your panties. Your hips keen toward him, an automatic response, and he strokes a knuckle down the glistening slit of your lips.

"Sick how," you ask, not really desiring an answer, talking just to talk as you web your fingers into his hair. You've noticed that the only time he's not precious about it is when you're about to fuck. Then, you can muss up his hairdo all you want.

"I couuuld," he murmurs, "make you scream my name so loud--"

The middle and ring fingers on Steve's right hand sinks inside you, down to the knuckle. You swallow a little moan, but it strangles itself out anyway.

"--that they think you have laryngitis."

You skitter out a snort, despite the fact that he's stroking you real nice with his fingers. It's so silly; it's exactly the kind of thing you'd come to expect from Steve. You used to overhear Nancy Wheeler in the hallways being all, you're an idiot, Steve Harrington. Tone dripping in affection. And you got it now, you did.

"Come on," he says, tongue ghosting at your neck as the pad of a finger circles that drop of nerves between your legs, "Take the day." He swallows. "Stay with me."

But you weren't his fuckin' girlfriend.

To be completely straight, you'd been skirting around this thing for a while– the moony-eyed way Steve would look at you after he'd cum, the trapping you in the bedsheets with peppered kisses, the recreational sports games he'd keep inviting you to and you'd keep bailing on. You couldn't even remember if he played baseball or basketball. And you didn't... care.

"I just don't know why you work in that dump," Steve says, attempting to stick a little edge on that moment of softness. But his fingers had stopped moving inside you, which quite simply would not do.

"Because," you say, you with the hard edge, you with the steeliness he can't seem to get enough of, "some of us," your hand reaches down to clamp onto his, "don't have a choice what dumps we work in," and you begin to rut onto his hand, grinding into his palm. In order to get this show on the road, you add in one pretty little groan. "... your highness."

Your slickness makes an obscene squelch and Steve's jaw cocks open, his blown-out pupils meeting yours. "Fuckin'... shit. I'd pay to keep you here if you promised to do that all day."

And you know he'd love that, to make you a kept woman. But Hawkins rich isn't kept woman rich, and you've got bills to pay.

"That can be arranged," you whisper, biting at his finely sculpted jaw, "but if you wanna put your cock in me today, you better make it fast. Those beers ain’t gonna sling themselves."

“Yeah—yeah.” Steve fumbles, aiding you in pulling off your panties. You wrap them around his wrist for safekeeping, because this skirt is way too tiny to go commando in. Flash your ass at your co-worker and you’d never live it down.

Steve unbuckles and yanks his khakis down his thighs, a remarkably unsexy clothing choice on anyone else but him. You like him the most like this— pliable, willing to do whatever you say.

You hitch your knees up, bracing the heels of your tennis shoes against the edge of the table. Steve moves to hitch your skirt up, set his hands at ten and two on your hips, but his fingers travel upward to your shirt. It’s this threadbare Janis Joplin thing, another strategic choice. It’s tight enough that you needn’t bother with a bra and also tight enough that any passing wind chill makes your nipples stand to attention. It’s hot in here, so the way they strain against the material is all Steve’s doing.

“Take this off?” It’s a request. Sometimes you wish it’d be a demand. Anyway. You pull it over your head and the way he kneads at your tits makes up for it completely. His tongue, hot and strong and ready, laves over a nipple and you shiver.

“Steve, babe,” you whine, “tick tock.”

You reach down and grab his cock, sprung free from his boxers like a jailbreak, and guide it inside you.

His dick is long and lithe like the rest of him, with this perfectly bulbous tip that caresses that pretty spot, that one that makes you open-mouth moan into his shoulder, right on entrance.

Steve rocks his hips into yours, one of his big hands cupping at your jaw. “So nice, right?” he says, licking into your mouth.

“So fucking nice.” But now is not the time for one of Steve Harrington’s classic slow jams, a drawn-out fuckfest that would ordinarily leave you rosy and blissed out. Now, you need him—

“Harder,” you breathe, “fuck me harder. Faster, baby, please. I need— I have to get you off before I leave.”

Steve is a giver, but talk like that makes him feral. He'll rarely ever take control with you, rather wait for your permission to let him take control. Which is nice, you guess, consent and all that but it kind of snuffs the fire out for you sometimes. The process takes a little longer than it needs to.

But god, when he gets into a rhythm, there's no stopping him. He guides you (when he could have shoved you) back onto your elbows as his length drills in and out of you. He bears over you with that slyly muscular frame, face buried in your breasts, keeping up a relentless pace that almost, almost has your legs seizing, almost–

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

“Fuck!” and it’s too sharp a curse to be one of pleasure. Steve is lost in you entirely, so much so that you have to tug at the hairs at the nape of his neck to get his focused attention. “Stevie, I gotta go.”

“No–fuck, come on, I’m so close.” You’ve fucked Steve Harrington enough times to know that he’s nowhere near close, that he’s got a position or two left in him before knockout. Your square stare communicates this perfectly; but he doesn’t stop, his pace just slows. Achingly slows, the way he loves to do when you’re right at the apex of an orgasm and he wants to hear the extended version of your desperate pleading. “You can be late.”

“No, I can’t,” you grumble, palming around for your discarded shirt. “I’m opening. Drunks are--mmm--lining up around the block to see me.” And my goddamn co-opener is always late. “Down, boy.”

“Fii-ii-iine,” he groans, voice cracking as his heartbeat slows in his chest. You can just about feel it thumping from here. He eases himself out of you, but doesn’t make any swift movements away from you. Pink lips, so pink that you’d once hornily remarked they were almost the same color as your pussy, pout as he stares up at you from beneath his bushy brows. God, he looks pathetic.

He’s so fucking hot.

You unwind your bright blue underwear from his wrist slowly. “You mad at me?”

“Little bit,” he murmurs, “Leaving someone with blue balls is like, a serious health hazard. You know that, don’t you?”

“Forgot you were pre-med, Steve.” Oh, that man is not pre-anything other than pre-cumming.

“If you get back here and I don’t answer the door because I’m dead from unfulfilled horniness, you’ve only got yourself to blame.”

“That is, assuming I’ll be back?” This little exercise in reminding Steve of the fluidity of your relationship earns you the most heartbreaking little scoff. You can’t help but hold his hand to your now-reclothed chest and peck a kiss to his lips. “Kidding. I’ll make it up to you, promise.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.”

“I’ll be thinking about finishing you off for my whole shift, if that helps,” you hum against his mouth, which is already hungrily looking for more of you.

“How ‘bout I pick you up after?”

“Mmm, I don’t know.” Look, as much as you like Steve, and you do, you like him lots, you really need a night to recharge your social battery after the shift you’re about to have.

Especially when your co-worker comes sneaking in the door a whole 15 minutes late.

“Hey!” he whispers, making a whole pantomime of shiftily stepping inside, eyes darting around underneath his curly bangs, “Bev around?”

“You know as well as I do that she’s still on that cruise, Eddie.”

“And thank fuck for that, am I right?!” A ringed hand comes down hard on the bartop, making your glass of off-brand cola rattle. Something inside you clenches as Eddie Munson beams down at you. “God bless the Indiana Sweepstakes.”

You chuckle out a little mm-hmm! and return to the crossword book someone had abandoned here months ago. When it’s slow, you and Eddie try and fail to figure out the clues, which has lead to interspersed shittalking, which has led to flirting. Which has led to… other things. On the clock and off.

The natural course of which a river flows.

Speaking of wet things, you cross one leg over the other. You hadn’t, as it happened, stopped thinking about Steve’s absence between your thighs since you’d gunned your shitty car out of his building’s driveway. Though, the closer you got to The Hideout, the less that absence became about Steve and more became about… well, anyone.

What? You’re a red-blooded American woman with a healthy sex drive.

And you’ve seen how Eddie Munson handles the wheel of a car. Forceful. Relentless. Wild.

“Figured out where I know you from, by the way,” he says, snatching the bar towel from your shoulder and throwing it over his own.

“Hey! Those things are in short supply, asshole, get your own.”

“Finders keepers,” Eddie smirks, “And– Spanish class, sophomore year.”

Cringing falsely, you toss your hands up in surrender. “Ay papi. You got me.”

“You told me you were from Oregon, you little liar.”

“And you believed me, right?” you shrug. “Not surprising that you didn’t clock me right away. I was kind of unremarkable.”

Eddie squidges past you in the narrow space behind the bar, leaning around you for something– for what, you don’t really register, because he lingers there a little longer than he needs to. You can feel his breath on your neck. “Certainly not unremarkable now, huh?” His fingers ghost at your waist. “Nice shirt.”

See, the thing you’ve found with Eddie is he doesn’t waste any time.

He’s a lifer at The Hideout, worked here all through high school, right up to now. After your first couple of shifts, you locked yourselves in the bar for what he called a peer review. It only took a couple of shots of whiskey between you before he was on his knees, eating you out from your seat on the barstool. You ground yourself onto the slope of his nose, the tip making imperfect but workable contact with your clit as his tongue dove past your lips. Eddie had gripped onto you like a man possessed, determined to make you choke out his name through your orgasm.

But Eddie had never fucked you. He’d eaten you like a last meal, sure. He’d fingered you against the rough brick exterior of the bar, yep. You’d even given him road head the couple of times he’d given you a ride home after work, dawn breaking over Hawkins and Eddie struggling to drive in a straight line toward your apartment block. But he’d never fucked you.

“Thanks,” you respond, tilting your head upwards to look at him. “Guy I was fucking before I came in sure seemed to think so.”

Eddie’s mouth curls up into this devilish little grin. “You tryin’ to make me jealous, telling me you’re gettin’ dicked down before work?”

“To his credit, dicked down is,” you sigh, “a little bit of an understatement.”

“Couldn’t finish the job?”

“Not his fault. My alarm went off.”

“And you’re so punctual.”

“Always.”

Eddie’s hand tightens around its place on your waist, dimpling into the soft flesh. “So you’re left all… wanting, is the conclusion I’m coming to.”

“Yeah…” and your teeth sink into your bottom lip. From behind you, he angles his hips against your ass, a suggestion of a push upward. The material of your skirt catches, gathers and shifts against him so you can just about feel the swell of him on your almost bare ass.

“Oh, you little slut,” he says, and fuck, if you don’t love the way he says it. The hardness on the letter ‘t’. “Coming in here all dick-hungry. You’re asking me for a favor, then?”

“Least you could do,” you say lowly, “for leaving me hanging in here all the time.”

“Right,” Eddie nods, his hand travelling toward the hem of your skirt, “The opening rush is crazy around here.”

Ain’t a sinner in the bar but the two of you.

Eddie’s fingers crawl onto your thigh, reaching higher and higher, and you nearly let out a pitiful little moan in anticipation. All you want, all you want is to plant your hands on the bar and have him drive his cock into you, ringed fingers bruising the soft flesh of your hips. Chained jeans rattling.

So you move his hand to the waistband of your panties, not that it’s far off. A suggestion of pull these fucking things down.

Eddie’s eyes flare wide. Anybody could come in. Are you sure about this?

But you’re so fucking wet that a job like this isn’t going to take long. He might not cum, but you sure will. You sure fucking will, if he keeps looking at you like that. Like he wants to wrap a ringed hand around your throat and fuck you so good, you’ll forget even the regulars’ orders.

“Eddie,” you say, purposely wiggling against him as your panties fall to the floor, “C’mon. You’re telling me you’ll let me jerk you off in the keg room but you haven’t thought about how wet it makes me? How much I want you to just–!”

“Shut up,” he says, “Fuckin’ shut up. Bend over.”

Your pulse quickens, mouth popping open.

“I said,” Eddie starts, hands going to his silver belt, “bend over, slut.”

And boy, do you ever comply– Jesus. You’ve never seen him like this before, half-mad and fully hard. Usually, Eddie’s the kind of guy who’ll joke his way through a hookup. There’ll be flashes here and there, sure. He’s got no problem telling you where to put it and when. But this…

You bend at the waist, leaning against the bar for support and scoot your legs apart. A great idea on your part, you toss a look over your shoulder– Eddie’s pumping the length of himself, his free hand roaming over the curve of your ass. He notices you looking and gives it a solid smack!, fat jiggling on the recoil. The sight of that makes his eyes keen back in his head a little, a smile dancing at his lips.

“You better be ready to dance,” he says, fingers teasing at your slit before he enters you in one slow, slow, stretching movement. “We got customers coming in, any minute now.”

Eddie breathes out a little oh god! in response to feeling just how tight you are around him. He feels exactly as you expected him to– you knew he was big from taking him in your mouth but the girth of him makes you wince a little. Once he’s moving against your honeyed walls, you’re in fucking heaven. He’s thick and solid and this close to throbbing; he’d been waiting for this as long as you had.

“Don’t worry,” he strains reassuringly, palm coming in harsh contact with your ass cheek again, “You’re cummin’ first, sweetheart.”

The brazen moan, the sound all jittery from Eddie’s rutting into your pussy, seemed to echo in the empty bar.

God, the acoustics really were great in here.

The sound of his balls slapping against your gorgeous, plush ass joins the symphony and the sting of his force hitting your soft spot makes your eyes water. You want to look at him again– you have to. Your eyes go over your shoulder and Eddie’s there, fucking beautiful under the bar light’s glow and transfixed on the way your body’s moving against him. He doesn’t need any encouraging. His hand reaches for your throat, holding your chin in place so you can watch him fuck you, so he can watch your pretty face contort as you crest your orgasm.

Your cunt tightens around him and the sounds he starts making are nothing short of obscene– guttural, growling, snarling. “Fucking getting what you want now, aren’t you, baby girl? All you needed–uhnh–was my fucking–fat cock to cum all over–”

And it’s hitting you in waves you’d gladly drown in, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes. You reach down to flick at your swollen clit, half-regretting you’re not drawing out the contractions of your pussy a little bit longer. “Good fucking girl, give me everything you got–”

“Cum inside me, Eddie, fucking please–” you cry, right over the crest of your orgasm.

“Huh?” He barely registers what you’ve said, talking you through the arresting drown of your orgasm. But then he gets it, and his eyes do that siren flare thing that they do. “Really? Yeah?”

“Yeah, fucking– yeah!” you yell, a little louder than you mean to, “Fill me, please, I want you drippin’ out of me all night–”

That’s enough for him to jerk and shudder, his noises becoming tauter, his thrusts becoming shorter, bottoming out inside you in a warm gush.

Fuck. Fuck.

“Fuck,” you blink, moving Eddie’s hand from your throat as he eases himself out of you.

“Yeah,” he breathes, pulling the bar towel from his shoulder to wipe himself off. “Fu-uuck.”

You turn back to face him and snatch the towel, patting between your own legs.

“Gross,” he chides.

“Finders keepers, asshole,” you giggle, breathless. And satisfied. That giggle bubbling out of you is contagious, because now Eddie’s giggling too. Peals and peals of silly laughter, fizzing out of you both like phosphate. That was fun. Eddie’s fun.

“Might wanna put those back on,” he points to the ground once he’s caught his breath. Oh right. Your panties.

“Yeah, I–”

But then the bar door swings open, your name called out through the entrance. Wait, is that–

“--fuckin’ Steve Harrington?” Eddie mutters, leaning over the bar to get a better look.

“Babe,” Steve says, catching sight of you with a little slip of red leather in his hand. “You forgot your…”

He pauses, Maybe he catches that you and Eddie are in a state of post-coital undoneness. I mean, the pink cheeks, the ruffled hair, Eddie’s half-secured belt may be a tip off, but…

“...wallet.”

But where a guilty feeling ought to have settled in, there’s no boats in your damn harbor. Steve Harrington, while lovely, was not your fuckin’ boyfriend. You pluck the wallet out of his hand as his eyes narrow, looking toward Eddie. Eddie, for his part, is putting the puzzle pieces together.

So it was Steve’s place you were running off to after shifts, Steve’s new car you were jumping out of when you arrived sometimes.

And he looks a little… jealous.

“Thanks, Stevie,” you say, blowing him a little kiss with the wallet. “You wanna drink while you’re here?”

“Nah, I– I gotta… I’m jettin’. So. Later? Later.” Steve Harrington, still struggling to be the epitome of cool. And failing miserably.

You give him a little wave and watch him, fondly, as he leaves. God bless Banana Republic and everything those should-be-fuck-ugly khakis have done for you. In your peripheral vision, Eddie appears next to you. Leaning on the bar. Glaring.

“What’s the matter, Munson?” you simper. “Cat got your dick?”

#powder room talk #Anonymous

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eganeyes · 5 months

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indulgent domestic modern!au clegan headcanons for the soul:

they're both really good in the kitchen!! i see them both as well functioning adults ngl so they both do the cooking, cleaning, laundry, etc working together like a well oiled machine.

bucky's more of the savory cook out of the two of them—I've been so into tinned fish talk on tiktok lately and been busy imagining this man just doing easy recipes for dinner and lunches. he likes making donburi, the air-fryer is his best friend, a risotto recipe he stole from benny's mom, wine marinated steaks, etc. he's the type to have to be in action to be calm so it's pretty common to see him running around the kitchen doing like six things at once.

buck's more of a baker, he has a sourdough starter on the counter and in the refrigerator bucky stays far, far away from. he makes the bread bucky uses for avocado toast breakfasts, cupcakes he shares liberally, dog friendly peanut butter cookies he made specifically for meatball, etc. rolling and smacking thick dough is like a stress reliever for him, so nearing the anniversary of him finally leaving his childhood house, the oven is on near 24/7 and the entire house smells like a bakery. everyone pops by now and then to take home some of the overload of baked goods and offer distraction in the form of chaos—at first by bucky's invitation but nowadays it's like an unwritten yearly calendar thing.

buck's usually in charge of breakfast. he makes fluffy pancakes more often than not, scrambled eggs on toast, always has two coffee pots ready for each of them because they go through it like its water. brady has made some very pointed suggestions on their kidneys, especially bucky's, but gets called out right back on the actual tobacco pipe he still smokes with in this day and age. if bucky wakes up earlier, he makes them avocado toast because he tried it at this hipster cafe as a joke but it's really not a joke anymore now.

they're both morning people it's revolting. when curt stays over he makes it very clear he won't be up before 9 the earliest and fuck them both if they try anything to actually wake him up. they wake him up. there's a guest room that may as well be curt's and his clothes are folded neatly in the dresser.

buck likes cantaloupe, so bucky regularly cuts up the fruit and packs them into lunch boxes for him.

brady shares the same birthday as meatball. so every year without fail, aside from his actual cake, bucky gets an extra plain cake with meatball printed on it with the words happy birthday meatball!! in large letters and a tiny (and brady) under it.

two of the shelves displayed in their house is just full of tchotchkes from all over the world from their adventures. yes there is concerning amount of unicorn statues. buck always looks moderately pained when someone asks about it. among them is a rock that tripped bucky up one random hike and somehow caused him to fall of cliff and get stuck in an outcropping of rocks. air rescue had to be called and he was an absolute nightmare of a broken ankle patient. again, buck always looks moderately pained when somebody asks about it.

they're hemming and hawing over getting a dog which the others find absolutely bewildering and when asked about it they both say its like cheating on meatball, which makes zero sense because the dog is benny's do not even think of stealing him cleven i swear—

they do get a dog from the shelter though!! they get a beagle. no really the dog is literally the bane of their existence they just had to choose the most exuberant 5yo dog with a powdered sugar face that's literally the antithesis of meatball. they name him tomato. benny despairs on how his dog isn't even really just his.

obsessed with the thought of them building their house by themselves like grey's anatomy's derek no hear me out architect!blakely helping them design the house and they have an open plan design which i kind of hate but the image of buck cooking in the kitchen yelling at bucky who's got his feet up on the coffee table oh

they go on these planned little adventures for dates and one of said plans is doing a pilates class together. hear me out: they both suck at it 😭. an hour in and bucky is literally stuck on the machine terrified of moving, he has cramps in muscles he didn't even know could get cramps. he looks to the left and buck is flat on the ground unmoving. they sign up for another class but bring curt into it thinking it'd be hilarious but no curt becomes the instructor's favorite within minutes. they sign up for another class in protest and bring brady and nearly kill the guy from sheer anger. their competitive asses work overtime and somehow end up getting instructor certificates just to prove they could.

the day they discover kahoot is honestly a mistake because when they host get togethers they do little presentations on what they've been doing since they last met and do full on kahoot quizzes and several expensive glasses are sacrificed for the worser worse. 'what was the shirt color of the lady photobombing us in that beach selfie?' and dougie straight up lobs his phone at bucky's face.

some extra casually possessive clegan hcs:

passenger princess buck with bucky's hand always casually draped over buck's closest thigh, absentmindedly playing with the inseam of his pants when they hit a red light

or: buck laying a hand on bucky's thigh to calm him down when some asshole cuts them off, or when bucky starts going past the speed limit, or just for comfort during a long drive

sitting thigh to thigh during breakfast/lunch/in the bar, sometimes even overlapping, buck's arm always around the back of bucky's chair

when they're sitting on high stools, bucky's leg is always propped up on buck's footrest

buck sitting on the only high stool available, bucky leaning by his side with an arm tucked around his hip

this pose of dua/callum insanity. squinting down on a tourist map of madrid for a random trip together, bucky's arms around buck with their heads bent trying to read tiny spanish lettering under the overbearing sun, buck tucking his hand into bucky's backpocket and tugging him closer like that'll help them find their hotel easier

some vacation fun: actually from this post I've added a few to and had brainworms on

the buckies go on a 7 day trip to somewhere with beaches and resorts and spa days and fruity little drinks with tiny little umbrellas and tell literally 0 people. they get ambushed on day 4 anyway.

in every beach outing thing, there has got to be a scene where they do each others' sunscreen. doing buck's, bucky purposefully leaves some parts of his skin unsuncreened on his back spelling out 'I SUCK' with an arrow pointing down to his ass. thankfully buck's blessed with perfect golden skin so he doesnt sunburn like at all.

buck brings a whole rack of books to read while sun tanning, a cute little folded table, cooler, bright towels for mats, and a rented umbrella setting up his downtime perfectly.

bucky leaves him to it for the first two hours because he loves the man: he goes to play beach volleyball with some random people he charms within minutes, saves a kid's sandcastle from being eaten by the waves and somehow ropes the kid and 4 other random children to build a giant fortress with a moat, accidentally step on a few crabs, takes hundreds of pics with other random tourists for some strange reason (they think he's a movie star and he does nothing to dissuade that), does karaoke near the beach bar with several equally enthusiastic drunk people, and pets every dog in his vicinity. he acquires exactly 9 numbers despite telling people he's very much taken, several insider local attractions added to his knowledge, and finds out the dirty sordid underground clubs in the area. all within 2 hours.

he comes trotting back to buck without a single hit to his stamina, and finally starts lobbying for a jet ski race.

in the two hours he was gone, bucky had flirted heavily with the jet ski rental managers, and rented 2 jet skis with a discount he refused and without an actual boating license but he's like really persuasive guys you don't get it. they do know how to ride it though because they're the kind of couple with a terrifying amount of qualifications in their CVs.

buck pretending not to be as competitive as his partner and hemming and hawing about going on the jet ski but the minute the race is on their trash talking gets so loud beach security has to stop by to calm them down.

buck leaves bucky with their kit to get some ice cream and comes back to bucky lounging on the mat. without pause, he kicks up sand directly on top of bucky and buries the man within minutes without giving the man the chance to defend himself from buck's onslaught.

buck sends the 100bg gc a pic of bucky buried under the sand with a coke right beside his head and a straw poking out straight to his mouth for easy access and it becomes the gcs new pfp.

the boys trace their location within days and on day 4 of their vacation they get ambushed in their hotel room and it turns into a big outing. jack scoffs at the buckies' itinerary and types out a new one for their entire group.

#a no pain day <3 #gathered all my eggs in one post so i could be done with them #mota #masters of the air #buck cleven #bucky egan #clegan #buck x bucky #mota headcanons #mota hcs #mota modern!au #just indulgence honestly #curt biddick #benny demarco #john brady #james douglass #jack kidd #this is literally just for me im sorry 😭#eganeyes

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cumikering · 7 months

Text

Werewolf Keegan x reader 5

3.2k | fluff, suggestive You threatened Keegan with a good time (part 1) (part 6)

Guess who didn’t wipe off your lipstick smudge the rest of the evening. Keegan was into the whole claiming shenanigan more than he thought he did after all.

He smiled to himself as you hiked to the cabin in his jacket. ‘It’s warmer than yours,’ he said, and he was a few seconds away from offering you his beanie. How soon could he make you wear a shirt that said Keegan’s without it being weird?

As part of Raider’s handover process, he had started his training with Gabe. The K9, however, stayed with his handler that weekend because Keegan was taking you on an overnight trip. He figured the cabin was too small for the three of you. That, and he couldn’t find blindfold for dogs.

On the deck next to steaming cups of tea, you had wraps you packed that morning. You leaned onto his shoulder, looking over the city in the distance.

“I miss Raider,” you said longingly. “He’d keep me warm.”

How dare you think he couldn’t keep you warm. Was this a challenge? He pulled you closer. “Are you cold? We can go inside.”

You smiled. “In a bit. Want to watch the sunset with you.”

He moved you to sit between his thighs before putting his beanie on you, tugging it past your eyes. You giggled as you repositioned it. He held your hands and stuffed them in the pockets of your (his) jacket, chin resting on your shoulder.

Against the textured pink backdrop, the sun inched towards the horizon. Keegan nuzzled your neck, his strong arms wrapping around you. The night fell as the golden flares fizzled out and he flicked on the LED lantern. He laid you down on the deck, his hand behind your head, kissing all over your face with his fingers lacing between yours.

“We need to get in! I don’t want the wolf to come by again.”

“Leave some PB sandwiches out as a peace offering,” he said, rubbing his nose against yours.

You laughed. “No, they’re mine and I’m not sharing with anyone.”

“Not even with me?”

“No, all mine.”

He let out a mock gasp. “I’ll have to eat them all when you’re sleeping.”

He got up to his feet before taking your hand to help you up, leading you into the cabin.

“This is the bed?!” you exclaimed, gesturing at the mattress, which was more of a glorified yoga mat, if he was honest.

“I thought I’d warned you.”

“Well, yes, but you didn’t tell me it was this small. How are we going to fit in there?”

We? He melted a little. “It’s yours. I’m taking the floor. There’s an extra blanket here somewhere.”

“You know I won’t let you do that, right? But… I can’t sleep pressed up to you without a shower either!”

Silly you, threatening him with a good time. “I don’t mind. Not at all.”

You got cleaned up and climbed into bed in his hoodie and your thickest sweats. With your back against the wall, you lay on his chest.

“You know, the first time you stayed at mine,” you began.

His heart skipped a beat. Oh shit, did you-

“I dreamt of my childhood dog, that he was next to me in bed.”

Oh, thank fuck. “What’s his name?”

“Jake.”

Huh, so that’s what you said.

“He was a huge Newfoundland, fluffy jet black fur, like your hair.” You smiled. “Now you know why I like touching it so much.”

It was official. He wasn’t going to cut his hair ever again.

He slid your hand under his shirt. “You sure it wasn’t just me? I’m pretty hairy too.”

You laughed, pinching his stomach.

“Hey, peanut,” Keegan said, fingers twirling your hair.

“What did you just call me?”

“Peanut, like peanut butter.” My favourite fucking thing.

“At this point the P in your name should just be Peanut.”

He chuckled. “Would you still like me if I was a dog?”

“I think the question is supposed to be worm, not dog.”

“Yeah, but I’ve got no plans of becoming a worm. Dogs though, they chill and nap. It’s always a good time being a dog.”

“You’re making it sound like you do plan on becoming a dog.”

“Look at Raider. He’s always happy, isn’t he?”

“That’s true.”

“So? Would you still like me if I was a dog?”

“Yes, I will. Maybe even more.” You paused. “But don’t shed too much!”

He pressed a kiss against your temple. “I promise I’ll clean up after myself with an industrial-sized lint roller.”

He knew it was silly banter, but the words lulled that little part of his brain, that you’d like the other him anyway. He wanted to soak in it, fantasise that you were staying despite his demanding schedule and sullen silence, that maybe you liked him enough to make it work.

Would you, he wanted to ask. If you wanted to bear it with him, make you promise you’d never leave and be the end of all of this, give him what he never knew he wanted.

But that’s not how life worked, so he didn’t. Not now with his terrible secret anyway.

Comfortable silence filled the room. Your hand was still under his shirt, warm against his fuzzy stomach.

“I might go out for a walk later tonight, so don’t be worried if I’m gone, okay?”

“Don’t get lost.”

He chuckled. “No, you don’t get lost.”

“Touché.”

Keegan held you close as your breathing eventually deepened. When he was sure you were asleep, he carefully removed his arm from under you before tucking you in, kissing you on your forehead.

Outside, the night was still with the crescent moon high in the cloudless sky. He stepped out onto the deck and took a deep breath of the fresh cold air before shifting behind the bushes.

With a content sigh, his wolf rolled on the ground, the dried leaves tickling his back making him pant. He jumped to his paws before running through the woods, revelling in the breeze in his fur. He’d missed this. It was nice to finally stretch his legs after so long.

And that better-than-peanut-butter scent filled him again. He stopped in his tracks and turned back towards the cabin. Uh oh, did he wake you?

Sure enough, you sat on the deck, arms wrapping around your legs as you gazed at the moon with a small smile. He sighed. Oh, you were so pretty. He could, and would, look at you all night. He’d love to come up to you, but you were scared of his wolf. As quietly as he could, he crawled behind the bushes. He could settle for the next best thing for his peanut.

As he pushed his snout against the leaves to peek between them, a twig crunched under him. Your head whipped to his direction, and he ducked and froze in place. Dog logic: if he couldn’t see you, you couldn’t see him either.

You leaned back again and began combing through your hair with your fingers. He held his breath, letting your scent breeze pass, but it wouldn’t, and it was his undoing. The leaves rustled as he sat up, panting behind the bushes, front paws padding in eagerness. Why did you have to make it so hard for him?

“Keegan?”

His tail swayed faster. With a whimper, he stuck his head out.

“Oh God, it’s you,” you gasped.

Yes, it’s me!! He hopped out, tail wagging.

“Okay,” you said breathlessly. You stood as slowly as you could. “I guess it’s my fault for going outside. Keegan said you’re friendly, but you’re huge and I’m still very much scared.”

His head tilted. Why did his name sound so good coming out of your mouth?

You backed towards the door. “Respectfully, I don’t mean to be rude at all, but on the off-chance you understand this, would you mind terribly if you keep your distance? Please?”

It was hard to register your words when your scent made his head spin. He crawled towards you, making himself as small as he could as his tail continued to fan behind him. When he got to you, he rubbed the top of his head against your stomach.

“Please don’t bite me,” you said under your breath.

I won’t! At your feet, he rolled onto his back, blocking the door. Give me belly rubs NOW! He waited, his paws folded in front of him, panting. When nothing happened, he lifted his head.

You stood there frozen. He whimpered, high-pitched and desperate. I promise I won’t bite! With a shaky breath, you tentatively reached for his belly. He boofed, tongue lolling.

You let out a nervous chuckle. “I suppose you’re pretty friendly after all.”

I told you! He huffed. Now keep going, please, miss.

You sat down, still scratching him. When you stopped, he lifted his head again. This time you had an amused smile on your face. He flipped over and licked the back of your hand before splaying over your lap.

“You have no idea how big you are, do you?” You laughed, scratching the back of his ears.

He sighed, tilting towards you. Yes, yes, right there. On the brink of falling asleep, his eyes fluttered. I CAN’T. You’d get a heart attack if he shifted back to his bare human form right there.

He straightened up, sitting on your lap as he stared you down with his bright yellow eyes, unblinking, face inches away from you.

You looked away. “C- Can you not do that, please? It’s rude to stare, and I feel you’re going to bite my face off.”

He whimpered, looking down at his paws. It was hard being a misunderstood wolf.

“Thank you.” You ran your fingers down the fur of his neck. “I know Keegan would be laughing if he sees me talking to you.”

His tail trashed again at his name.

“Do you know him?” You chuckled. “Keegan?”

His paws padded on your thighs.

“You do, huh?” You patted his head. “You’re such a sweet boy, very smart too.”

You called him a sweet boy! Could he sprain his tail from excitement? He was going to pass out.

A gust of wind rushed between you, fresh, smelling like dawn. He walked over to the edge of the deck, snout in the air. The rain was coming. Sure enough, the first drop fell.

“Oh, I hope he’s not too far away. I don’t want him to get sick.”

That reminded him. He needed to secure his clothes behind the bushes before they got wet. He nuzzled your neck and licked your hand one last time before disappearing into the woods.

You stood on the deck with your hood drawn tight when Keegan rushed to the cabin with his lantern, rain splotches on his shirt.

“What are you doing out here?” He wrapped an arm around your shoulder, guiding you back in. “It’s cold out.”

“You went for a walk with no jacket on.”

“I don’t get cold, you do.”

“Well, then you should have stayed in bed and kept me warm.”

He smiled. “Sorry. I won’t leave again.”

You told him about your encounter with the wolf-dog before quickly falling asleep in his arms.

“Would love to see that handsome boy again. His fur is so soft, like your hair,” you’d mumbled.

It made his imaginary tail wag.

When he left for his next mission days after, Keegan took his beanie and hoodie you wore that night. Sleeping on floors of differing textures didn’t feel so bad when he felt like you were there next to him (on the rare occasions he could tune out Ajax’s snoring). In the field, your handkerchief stayed in his pocket. On his phone, there was now a peanut emoji next to your name.

It was a luxury that he arrived back in the city during the day and finished his debrief before it got dark. With a racing heart, he waited outside your work to pick you up for dinner. It had been too long since he saw you last.

“Keegan!” You gave him a chaste kiss and wrapped your arms around him. “Thank you so much. I love, love it!”

He chuckled, his hands on your shoulders, looking you over. “What?”

“The flowers. They’re my favourite.” You held out the small bouquet, the smile on your face too sweet as your eyes twinkled.

He blinked. “Those aren’t from me.”

“Oh,” you said in a small voice as you took a step back.

He didn’t mean to break your heart, but bitterness pricked.

“There’s no sender, but you got back today and I thought-” You didn’t meet his eyes.

He pulled you to him, kissing your temple. “No, I’m sorry. I should have got you something.”

He didn’t know who those flowers were from, but he could fight. The dude would have to go to war with this jealous spec ops soldier before even dreaming of snatching you, because he sure as hell wasn’t about to let that happen.

He should be flattered you thought it was him when it could have been anyone. He had to step his game up the following weekend. You deserved it.

Time to find new date spots and get you more jackets.

But as luck would have it, that Friday afternoon the familiar heat crawled up his spine. He groaned. His rut was approaching and he knew it was only going to get worse for the next day or two.

I’m coming down with a fever. I don’t think I can meet you tonight, and I might have to cancel the reservation tomorrow. I’m sorry

Bare in bed, Keegan buried his face in one of his beanies you wore, his hips squirming in discomfort, skin damp with sweat. With you in mind, for hours, he did what he could to nurse the distress but as he’d expected, to no avail. It could have been worse really - at least this time his rut came while he was home. Still, he wanted to scream at the thought of the weekend without you.

Fuck this rut. He was supposed to be cuddling on your couch watching a movie, making you laugh with his lame commentary. He should be sleeping next to you, nuzzling your neck with your back pressed to his chest, but there he was instead, stuck at home with his body on fire.He just wanted you. Was that too much to ask for?

He groaned pitifully, not even registering the knock at the door until-

“Keegan?”

He stilled, thinking he was imagining your sweet voice, but you called out again.

“Peanut?” he said to himself. He sat up, swiping his boxers from the floor and stumbling to the door, eyelids heavy.

There you stood in your clothes from work, holding a bag of takeaway with a smile that immediately dropped when your eyes travelled down his flushed, shirtless body.

“Oh dear,” you muttered, looking away. “Am I interrupt- Are you with someone?”

Confused by the crack in your voice, he looked himself over. He wanted to die when he realised what you saw. Fuck. This. Rut.

He pulled you in by the wrist and slammed the door close before bolting into his bedroom. “Give me a second!”

Behind his door, he took deep breaths and willed the situation to go down (it didn’t, of course). But he did his best concealing it in his sweatpants and the baggiest hoodie he owned that felt like the sauna cranked to infinity.

When he emerged out, you were sitting at the table.

“Are you o-“

“I’m so sorry. I swear that happens whenever I get a fever.” He knelt beside you, gripping your hands.

You stared at him for a few seconds before letting out a chuckle. “You don’t look good.” You pushed the clumps of hair off his wet forehead.

His head thumped, skin scalding, but your scent swirling around him dulled the ache. Ever the sweet little thing, you surprised him with a visit, even brought him food to his den. Did you know you were playing a dangerous game?

His fingers grasped your chin as he leaned in. Thinking it was a peck, you pulled away after a beat but he pressed on, arm wrapping around your waist, making you giggle. You were intoxicating even that your shirt carried faint scents of others too. What a nuisance. You needed that off.

He led to his bed and pulled you on top of him, cupping your cheek.

“It’s your fault if I get sick too.” You smiled against his lips.

He knew you wouldn’t, but he couldn’t help wonder what would happen if you did magically catch the same illness, and if you’d be able to keep your hands off him, if he would be able to keep his off you if you couldn’t. His fingers dug into your waist at the thought.

“I think about kissing you a lot. Way too often,” he said breathlessly, eyes closed.

You pulled at the fabric stuck to his skin. “Do you want to get changed? You’re sweating so much.”

He pulled his hoodie off in a swift motion, not caring where he tossed it. “Miss you too much.” His eyes flickered close again. “Just… Stay. Need you here.”

You lay next to him with your head propped up, wiping his face and chest with the small towel on the nightstand. Your fingers went to his hair.

He let out a satisfied sigh.

“You love scratches, don’t you?”

“Love when you touch me,” he rasped.

Your fingers trailed down his neck and chest, dancing over the rise and fall of him, slowing the closer they travelled south. He could feel his own heartbeat as chills ran down his spine, his breath growing shorter. Eyes half-lidded, he tugged your fingers just a hair lower.

An invitation. A plea.

Keegan woke with your back to him, wrapped tight in the comforter you hogged all night. You’d changed into one of his shirts and sweats, your feet sticking out from the burrito you’d rolled yourself into. He got up to grab a pair of socks, and as he put them on you, he realised his head had stopped spinning. His fever was gone.

Last night, he recalled, with the blush over your face and the way your chest heaved, you couldn’t meet his gaze. Even through fluttering lids, he didn’t miss how your eyes raked over him, over and over, your lips parted. Your touch lingered the rest of the night until sleep took him: breathless, but floating with the glow in his chest.

He chuckled softly at the sight of you sleeping so peacefully, leaning in to kiss your temple, and he lingered over you. The morning had started spilling into the room, golden against your perfect face, your pretty lashes fanned over your cheeks. The lips he never got tired of kissing curled into the faintest smile. He sighed.

Keegan chose this path to make use of soul he was granted, for a purpose. He put his life on the line to fight, to protect what he loved. He never knew what it was until then.

@tiredmetalenthusiast @shadofireshinobi @keegansshark @two-gh0sts @rowanyaboats @mangoguy @astraluminaaa @dead-cipher @synnicall

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newtonsheffield · 5 months

Note

peanut butter 😂😂 we are gonna need newton’s thoughts on Peanut Butter and Hyacinth picking that name

Imagine Newton, thinking he’s getting to go out for a drive in the Land Rover with Anthony and his Katie. Only to be BETRAYED.

Newton’s tail wagged as the car came to a stop, peering out the window.

“Okay, buddy boy. Let’s go.”

Newton had no idea where they were but, if Katie had brought him here, it must be a treat. He deserved a treat, really. Keeping the farm running as a single dog, with all those sheep. Not to mention trying to keep Anthony in line. God it was a wonder his back didn’t break under the weight of it all.

Katie clipped him onto his leash and he strained towards the house where he assumed some sort of spa day was waiting for him, Anthony following behind.

“Anthony?” A strange woman called out, “Here about the Pup?”

Newton huffed, tapping the woman’s foot with his paw. Obviously they were here about the Pup. They were here about him.

“Just round this way.” The woman called out, scratching Newton behind the ears, “Handsome boy.”

Newton followed her, Katie and Anthony trailing behind as she went to a tiny barn.

Strange place for a spa but- Oh no.

They weren’t here for Newton. He realised that the moment the barn door opened. There was a border collie inside, a litter of pups all around her.

No! Newton yipped, turning around a scrambling towards the exit. We don’t need a pup, thank you!

Newton couldn’t stop glaring at it. The tiny pup, Mr Peanut Butter, Hyacinth had named him ignoring Newton’s derisive scoff, was chewing Newton’s tennis ball across the room.

He’d curled up against Newton’s tummy in the car on the way home and the pup had had the audacity to try and climb on Newton’s bed.

Katie! Newton yipped, Katie it’s got my ball!

Newton ran forward, just managing to save his bear from the clutches of the pup. He tucked it into his bed and turned on the puppy who’d followed him over, liver spotted ears pricked.

Okay, Mr Peanut Butter. We need to establish some rules! Newton Huffed.

Sorry. Peanut Butter whined.

It’s fine, it’s just Morton is mine. Anthony has some slippers over there that are for Chewing.

Peanut butter wagged his tail. Can you show me?

Newton huffed, considering, I could go for a chew, We’ll take one each.

Yes!

#modern bruises au #newton thoughts #kathony #anthony x kate #kate sharma #kate sheffield #anthony bridgerton #molly’s asks and answers

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nelapanela94 · 1 year

Text

“Thank you, Y/N.” Falco chirps as he stacks three boxes of cupcakes on the countertop. Vanilla, chocolate, red velvet, peanut butter and coconut. The sweet, nose-tickling mingle of fresh from the oven goods waters his mouth like a dog in front of a steak. Would Levi notice if one is missing?

“Thank you. Falco.” You tie the straps around your waist. Wheat flour dusts your hair. “I hope Captain Levi likes them.”

“He will love them.” He squints and lowers his voice, fanning a hand toward himself to lure your attention. “He might not seem, but he has a sweet tooth.”

You place your hands on your hips and smile. “That’s great news.”

“Are you coming to the opening?” Falco asks apprehensively. His plans would go to the trash bin if your answer were no.

“I wouldn’t miss it.”

Falco sighs in relief. He checks his mental list and now all his hopes lie in that their boss won't screw them over. He better watch his mouth.

“Great!” He totes the pile against his chest. “See you there. By the way, uh… he likes red.” His cheeks fluster and the bell waves goodbye after him. You watch him cross the street to the new tea shop in town that three months ago was an empty storefront with a weathered for rent sign. About eight weeks ago, taking off his hat, Levi limped into your store with a business proposal under his arm: he was looking for a pastry supplier.

A chuckle drips from your lips as you recall that meeting. Humanity’s strongest soldier, Captain Levi Ackerman is a stuttering and blushing mess. He expected to face Mr. [y/ last name], but as soon as he stepped into your office, his armament plummeted. “My father is out of town for the week, but I am acquainted.”

That afternoon, he left with a great deal, with a box of free samples and an odd sensation in his belly. Bees. No. Butterflies swarming all around.

You shower in the staff room, slip into a white A-line dress, swipe a bit of blush on your cheeks and paint your lips in cherry red. Golden loops dangle from your ears. Pretty but not overdone.

Someone knocks. You furrow your brows and pad barefoot to the door. You were not expecting anyone this evening. You rise on your toes and Levi’s warped face balloons through the peephole. Your cheeks warm. You check your breath, fix your hair, practice your best smile.

“Hey.”

Levi’s eyes open wide, a light blush grazing his cheeks. “Hi.”

“I didn’t know you were coming.” You crack your knuckles and rub your hands down your waist. “What a pleasant surprise.”

He sheepishly smiles.

“Congratulations for the opening Levi.”

“Thanks.” He clears his throat. “I uhhh… I wanted to know if you’re free after” His eyes struggle to focus on you. Hange must be watching, bursting out in laugh.

“I am.”

“Would you go on a date with me?”

“It took you eight weeks to ask.” You quip.

Levi’s ears turn red.

“My answer is yes.” You open the door and invite him in. “I won’t take too long. I just need to get my shoes on. Don’t be shy and take a seat.”

He nods as you barrel into your room.

Somewhere, Falco smiles.

#levi ackerman #attack on titan #levi attack on titan #aot #snk levi #shingeki no kyojin #snk #levi aot #levi x reader #levi x you #Levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x reader #fluff #levi fluff

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valentinbelleyh505 · 4 months

Note

Make hoppyx kickin head canons

Okay! 💚💛

Here you go!

Cool Autistic Girl × Cool ADHD Boy

Kickin and Hoppy first meeting was in the skate, so when he saw her, he started crush and (lie) jealous on her lol- and DogDay wake up him lmfao

DogDay — *seeing Hoppy training with her skate* “your so cool skating!!”

Hoppy — “thank you, Spaniel dog.”

Kickin — “i'm here, DogDay! What are you doing?”

DogDay — “Kickin, look at how this girl is so cool at skating!”

Kickin — “wha-” *sees Hoppy at first time and playing the love at first sight song, and Hoppy finish her training

DogDay — “did you see this kickin, how cool the talent of skate she does? ...Kickin? Kickin are you okay-?” *kickin wake ups*

Kickin — “HOW DID YOU DO THAT?!”

Hoppy — “it's my cool talent of sports with skate, yellow Chicken. Anyways my name is Hoppy, Hoppy Hopscotch.”

DogDay — “what a cool name, nice to meets you Hoppy!”

Kickin — “it's so nice to meets you- WAIT, now i want to make a challenge, i dare that you better than me from the skate!!”

DogDay — “WHAT?!”

Hoppy — “wow, i'll do that challenge with you then...”

They do that skate challenge, and Hoppy win the challenge, then Kickin, wanted the revanch but Hoppy was upset then later Kickin planned more challenge with skate and the others sports that he thinked he will win, but these challenge Hoppy always winned. (I think my The Lion Guard fan that is also a HopKick shipper, know the reference lol)

Obvious Hoppy Hopscotch it's better than KichinChicken in everything

Both are competitive and had a friendly-rivaly with each-other but from the inside it looks like they are in love with each other but they are TOO flustered to confess their feelings on each-other

Kickin always have a dream that Hoppy said that he is the best and he confess that she is the best, and when he wake up he sees that his mom and dad or the boys looking at him, and he gives they a good morning (i think y'all know the reference, specially my other friend that is also a HopKick fan lol)

when Hoppy said to a friend that her favorite season is autumn, Kickin listed and walks up blushing and said that is also his favorite season, and Hoppy was suprised... Hm...

Hoppy have Arachibutyrophobia (fear of peanut butter), so in a day when Picky or her dad asks her if she wants any food with peanut butter, Kickin says that she doesn't like any food with peanut butter

Hoppy secretly admires when Kickin is surfing, and Kickin always admires when Hoppy is skating

they both always tries to help each other, and also Kickin always tries to help Hoppy to go in the Moon

they're Rapunzel/Flynn, Chicken Little/Abby, Rainbow Dash/AppleJack, Judy/Nick, LadyBug/ChatNoir, Bonnie/Chica and SPECIALLY Bunga/Binga

in the 1st of February, DogDay and Bubba knew that Kickin have a crush on Hoppy

Hoppy — *walks up*

Kickin — *looking at Hoppy walks away and blushes*

DogDay & Bubba — *seeing Kickin blushing looking at Hoppy*

Bubba — “...hey Kickin, do you like het?”

DogDay — *GASP* “DO YOU LIKE HOPPY?!”

Kickin — “what?? No........ E.. yes.”

DogDay — “OMG!!! did you confess her? Valentine's Day it's coming.”

Kickin — “ahn... Not yeet.”

so after this, DogDay tell this to CatNap that Kickin have a crush on Hoppy

when is winter, Kickin sees that Hoppy is don't with jacket, so he gives his jacket to her don't feel cold (this is based on a cute video from tiktok that i found on Twitter/X)

their songs are Who is Better Than Who, ToyBox's Best Friend, and ToyBox's SuperStar

and later, Bobby was the second critter who knew that Kickin have a crush on Hoppy, so she tell to Crafty and Picky

and Bobby started to make every fanfiction about Hoppy/Kickin love story omg- and Crafty make every fanarts of HopKick

Kickin's Mom gives a gift for Kickin that is a sketchbook that he keeps under his mattress, that is just COVERED in doodles of Hoppy with tiny pink and red hearts all over the pages

in Valentine's Day, Kickin was going to ask to Hoppy want to be his gf, but he was too nervous to ask her, so DogDay, CatNap and Bubba helped Kickin on this and they turned his WingMen, Bubba teaches Kickin how to flirt and DogDay & CatNap got some gifts for he gives to Hoppy, so after he going to ask her with courage, and he did it!

During molting season Kickin gets insecure about his looks and thinks he looks ugly due to his lack of feathers and thinks that Hoppy won't like him anymore because he's "less attractive" but then Hoppy comforts him and promises him that she still loves him no matter what he looks like while cuddling him and getting soft kisses all over his face while reassures him, that she thinks that he still looks cute to her

they both are good on babysitting, when Picky and her parents are out she requests they to babysitter her youngest brother, JuniPiggy, when heis sleeping, they play some games, watch a movie or any series/TV shows and/or also sleeps. This is same thing with Bobby and her youngest sister

when they had any nightmares, they always comfort each-other, and ofc Bobby found it cute

their favorite comics are DC and any FNAF Graphic Novel Trilogy, they always read these comics together

they also loves horror movies and stories, they didn't scares of this tip of movies or stories

DogDay told to the rest of the Smiling Critters that Kickin and Hoppy are Dating

DogDay — “KICKIN DID IT!!”

Picky — “oh?”

DogDay — “HE DID IT!!”

Bobby — “HE DID IT?!”

DogDay — “he did it!”

Crafty — “he did?!”

DogDay — “Pit, KICKIN DID IT!”

PitClowin — “OMG HE DID?!”

DogDay — “KALY AND KOOKY, HE DID IT!!”

Kalyganroo & Kooky — “HE DID?!”

DogDay — “KICKIN DID IT!!!”

Platty — “he did what?”

*DogDay shows the photo of Kickin and Hoppy kissing*

Platty — “omg!! Says to Kickin that am i so happy for him. He deserved a cool relationship.”

this is based on a Chickn Nuggit short <3

my Smiling Critters OC, PlattyWally likes Kickin's romantic relationship with Hoppy, and she was so happy when knew that they are Dating

DogDay, CraftyCorn and Bobby BearHug are #1 HopKick Fans

so, meanwhile these are some of my HopKick Headcanons

some of the ideas @dollieguts1010 gives to me and inspired by

*when i got more, i'll update this*

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yanderepuck · 9 months

Text

"Of course I know how to measure!"

"Then, dear... What are you using that spoon for?"

"You need a teaspoon of-"

"Tablespoon?" Will looks at the recipe book in front of him. "What is a tablespoon? It is saying five grams."

You pout at him. You don't know grams. You don't weigh measurements. You've always used cups, and teaspoons and tablespoons. How are you supposed to know what five grams of baking powder is?

"Let me see that!" You squeeze yourself between him and the counter to look at the book. His arms wrap around your waist as you look at ingredients.

You keep pouting. This is always how you made them back home. You know the recipe by heart. You don't need a book.

You close it. "I don't need that! Me and my grandma used to make cookies all the time. I know this by heart," you step away and continue to mix the ingredients together.

Will leans against the counter watching you. His hair is pulled back from trying to help you. "Your face will get stuck with that dearie," he pokes your cheek trying to get you to smile.

"Wiiiiiiill," you whine. Your hair is pulled back but is a mess.

"I only want to help you," he puts his hands on your cheeks and kisses you. "Tell me. Why do you wish to make these cookies so bad?"

"I made them every holiday with my family and I want to make them for you," you look up at him with puppy dog eyes. "But you have to be so precise with ingredients when baking and I grew up using measuring spoons and you don't have the ones I need."

"I am sure they will turn out perfect," he kisses you again and holds your hands. "Please, take a break."

"I will once they are in the oven," you kiss him back. "Now out of my way! I have things I need to do."

Will laughs and steps to the side.

"Keep Puck out of the kitchen. He keeps trying to attack my feet."

You look over to the table, where Puck is hiding under.

"Cometh here," Will goes over and scoops him up. "We leave her alone," he gives Pucks nose a little kiss and leaves the kitchen with him.

You continue to make the cookies. Making a few different kinds so that Will can try them. You never asked him what kind of holiday cookies he's ever had, but you imagine it's not many.

You make sugar, peanut butter, gingerbread, thumb prints, lemon drop. Anything you think he would like, plus you're giving some to the mansion. You even tried to make lady locks, which isn't easy without the right tools.

Some time goes by and Will still hasn't seen you exit the kitchen. "Stay," he looks at Puck and he gets up. "Love? Why don't you rest now. It has been-" he stops once he smells the cookies. "That smell is amazing."

You are putting the cookies on a tray. You were just about to bring him a few. You quickly wipe your hands on your very dirty clothes and bring a plate over to him.

"I finished!"

His mismatched eyes look down at the plate. He's seen maybe two of those cookies before. You see the confusion and point at each one, telling him the names.

He still seems confused, tilting his head slightly.

"Go on. Try one!" You are very excited to see his reaction. He picks up the one you called a thumb print and bites into it. Crumbs fall from it and he quickly puts his other hand under the cookie to stop from making a mess.

"Oh my. That's delicious," he smiles and eats the other bite of his cookie.

You smile, feeling so proud of yourself. Considering he only eats at fancy restaurants, hearing his compliments make you bubbly inside.

"I still need to ice the sugar cookies. Would you like to help?"

"Ice them?" He's confused.

"Yeah, like putting icing on them."

"Oh! Yes I'll help you," he smiles.

You put the plate down and bring the cookies and icing to the table to sit down and ice them with him. Will sits down and watches you decorate one before starting on his own.

You both talk and laugh as you get them all decorated .

Tag list:

@kissmetwicekissmedeadly @fang-and-feather @xalxtusxiao @namine-somebodies-nobody @ana-thedaydreamer @evil-quartett @ameyoruakiikemenseries @yrenesposts @p1nkpandomium @tele86 @damekathearasi @lokis-laugh @candied-boys @breadmercury @azulashengrottospiano

#ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp shakespeare

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thesullengrrrl · 1 month

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baby wants, baby gets

"Oh yeah, that's it," Elaine groaned, her head falling back against the couch. "Hmmm...so good!"

She looked at her husband whose expression is a mixture of surprise and adoration and disgust.

"Rosie, I think this is the best we've ever made."

Her cravings were fairly normal in the beginning—chocolates, apples, spoonfuls of peanut butter (she had her own jar), that noodle soup from a specific Chinese restaurant three blocks away...until the bump started showing.

Ice. Sauerkraut. Olive oil drizzled over vanilla ice cream. Pickles with cheese and hot sauce. Almost everything with hot sauce.

And now...a half-eaten sandwich with potato chips as a filling and the other small plate was filled with slices of pickled onions.

Rosie swallowed as she offered the sandwich to him. "Baby, you should try it. The pickles just cut through the greasiness of the chips..."

"Don't worry about me," he told her instead, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I want you girls to eat more."

"You really think we're having a girl?" Elaine beamed. "I always thought you were hoping for a boy."

"Really?"

"Don't men always wish for a boy? To continue their name, something like that?" she answered, finishing the last bite of her sandwich. "Men from your time, mostly. I think."

"Well, yes," he nodded. "But I don't know, I have this feeling we're gonna have a girl. Little Laney crawling around, chasing dogs or running around the house..."

Her heart warmed. "I hope the baby has your eyes."

"No, I want the baby to have your eyes," Rosie protested, kissing her hand. "Sage eyes."

"I think I like your ocean eyes better," she retorted, smiling. "Then your curls...our baby's gonna be so cute."

"Have you come up with names yet?"

His wife shook his head. "Although I'm vetoing Robert Junior for a boy. I don't want my hypothetical son to have a name that sounds like he has a mortgage upon birth."

Rosie let out a laugh, imagining a frowning baby staring at him. "You don't want my child to be named after me?"

"That's my kid too!" she protested. "So no, no Robert Junior, Robert. I swear, if I see the birth certificate and it says Robert Junior, I will stand from my bed, all bloody and have you change it."

He raised his hands in surrender, knowing his wife might actually do it. "Okay, Robert Junior no more. But maybe for a girl..."

"No!"

#we'll meet again #oc: elaine byrne #rosie rosenthal x oc #drabble #queued post

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anadorablekiwi · 2 months

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@silvercaptain24 @telemna-hyelle …so you know that modern hsr au i was playing around with? Also @onceuponaladye , im 90% sure this au wont have any spoilers or anything

The one i said i would never write because there’s too many different characters/mini plots to follow?

…

Well.

Enjoy?

“Oh, are you Bailu’s older brother? It’s a pleasure to meet you!” The woman smiled brightly. “Im her teacher, she has spoken highly of you!”

Dan Heng did his best to conceal his tension. “Yes. My name is Dan Heng, I’m a technology major at Xiangzhou University.”

The teacher poorly hid surprise. “Oh, you’re a college student then? It must be difficult balancing school, work, and taking care of little Bailu here.”

Bailu pouted at being called ‘little’ and stuck her tongue out at the lady.

Dan Heng forced a chuckle and smile. “Well, I’ve started focusing mostly on Work and Bailu right now. I only take a class or two each semester.”

While not technically a lie, he chose to leave out the fact that he had started college in general with just two online classes. This semester. And is only 17 years old.

Relief flashed across the teacher’s eyes. “Oh, that's good! Well, if you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask me!”

“Thank you.”

Dan Heng led Bailu out of the school to where he had parked. He attempted light conversation for her sake, but he was still mildly panicked, and he knew Bailu could pick up on it.

Once they reached the privacy of their tiny apartment, Bailu finally broke the tension.

“I didn’t say anything that would make her worry, promise,” she offered in a small voice.

Dan Heng gave a slight smile and ruffled her hair. “I know, Bailu. Don’t worry. Its probably because I look young. Or, well, I look my age.”

He hung Bailu’s backpack on its hook by the door and headed towards the kitchen.

“Hopefully that should keep her off our backs. Want some ants on a log for your after school snack?”

“Ooo! Yes please!!” Bailu replied enthusiastically.

~~~

[months later]

“Woo Hoo!! Summer Vacation!!!” Bailu cheered as she pushed past Dan Heng and ran inside. She quickly took off her backpack and shoes, initially tossing them aside. One look from Dan Heng later, they had been put into their proper places.

“Cracker and peanut butter sandwiches for snack today?” Dan Heng removed his own shoes and put them away.

“Oh yes please! And Juice?” Bailu looked up at him, eyes full of hope and pleading.

Dan Heng chuckled. “Sure. And juice.”

Dan Heng set a plate and cup down on the cardboard box they had converted into a table. “Snack’s ready!”

A muffled ‘yay!!’ Was heard from the other room, followed by rapid footsteps.

Just as Bailu sat down to eat, Dan Heng’s phone rang. He looked at the screen, and raised a puzzled eyebrow.

“Video call…?” He muttered.

Dan Heng answered the call. “Hi.”

Jing Yuan smiled back from the screen. “Hello there! And oh perfect, Bailu is with you, too!”

Bailu grinned and waved. “Hi mister Jing Yuan!!”

Jing Yuan chuckled. “Hello there, little Bailu. I was wondering if you two would like to stay with me for a couple weeks, kick off your summer vacation with a bit of fun? You can play with the animals on Boothill’s ranch, help out with the horses…”

“HORSES??” Bailu practically screamed. She turned to her brother with her very best puppy dog eyes. “Please??? Can we????”

Dan Heng sighed. Jing Yuan clearly did this on purpose. He would know Dan Heng would want to decline, but if asking over video call, he was almost guaranteed to be within Bailu’s hearing range when the question was offered.

Reluctantly, he answered, “…sure. Why not?”

“YES!!!” Bailu shouted/cheered. She began to talk quickly, rambling off things she was planning on doing and excitedly ran to the other room.

“Bailu! You need to finish your snack!” Dan Heng called out. He finally turned his attention back to Jing Yuan.

“Sorry about that. Sure, we accept your invitation. When exactly were you thinking?”

Jing Yuan flashed a bright smile. “Perfect! How about you drive up here tomorrow? Or whatever time works best for you two, of course.”

Bailu, having returned to finish her snack, replied with mouth full of crackers and peanut butter. “Yes! Tomorrow!!”

Dan Heng wanted to smack his head into the wall.

“…Sure, tomorrow works. Thank you for the invitation, Mr. Jing Yuan.”

“Of course! And how many times must I say, just Jing Yuan is fine. No need for formalities. Well, I shall see you two sometime tomorrow then!”

“Bye!! See you tomorrow!!!” Bailu called.

“Goodbye Bailu, Dan Heng. Have a good rest of your day.”

“Bye.”

Dan Heng ended the call and let out a sigh.

Bailu grinned innocently at him as she took a sip of juice.

Dan Heng had an odd feeling about this.

#kiwi rambles #i was in a writing mood #and got inspo for this part #if i do fully flesh out this au this snippet will be like. in the middle #but its the part i had inspo for so 🤷🏻‍♀️ 😂🤣

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blue2black · 9 months

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Has anyone seen the Class Of 09 animation that was posted a month ago?

I love the two games and I REALLY loved the anime one. I really hope they get the sources they need to make more of it! :)

But, anyway, the anime kinda reminded me of a dynamic Ghost, Gaz and Soap could’ve had if they ever knew each other in high school.

Allow me to demonstrate:

—————————

Gaz: …is this what cam girls feel like?

Ghost: I feel like cam girls do a little more than we did.

Gaz: But at least they get paid, we had to flirt with that weirdo for free.

Ghost: No, we lost a bet. That’s not free, it’s just hoe and pro bono.

Gaz: Why would you put up flirting with Graves in the first place?

Ghost: Oh, so you thought she could steal that hot dog roller?

Gaz: No! But…ugh, just that whole class yesterday.

Gaz: “WoW, gRaVeS, yOuR nArUtO dRaWiNgS aRe So GoOd”—EW.

Ghost: That wasn’t even the worst part. People had to watch us do that.

Gaz: Plus, he probably won’t leave me alone for like, a month now. He’s gonna go home to his video games and make created characters of us..

Ghost: Yeah, he’ll kill us in Grand Theft Auto.

Gaz: You can make characters in Grand Theft Auto?

Ghost: Do I look like a bitch who would know?

Gaz: Whatever.

Gaz: God, I need a Xanax. *reaching in his back pocket*

Gaz: Wait, where’d I put it-

Ghost: *has the Xanax on his tongue and swallows*

Gaz: Bitch, that was my last Xan! How’d you take that??

Ghost: Quick hands.

Ghost: Ass and Xanax, what a combo.

Gaz: Goes together like peanut butter and percocet.

Ghost, mimicking Graves: “This is true”.

Gaz: Oh yeah, he kept doing that! “This is true”.

Ghost: Like he’s too good to say “yeah”, he has to be a scientist about it.

Gaz: Oh, and what about: “Uhmmm, okaayy”.

Ghost: I HATE it when they do that. Like, they gotta sound like the gay, comic, relief cat in every Disney movie.

Gaz: “ThIs Is TrUe”.

Ghost: “ThIs Is TrUe”.

Gaz: “YeS, iN fAcT”.

Ghost: “QuItE tHe InTeReStInG oUtFiT”.

Gaz: “Stop screaming, we’re having sex”.

Soap, in the distance: What are you doing?

Gaz and Ghost: *startled*

Soap, walking up to them holding McDonald’s fries: Sounds like you had a class with Graves.

Ghost: He has McDonald’s—Johnny, where’d you get McDonald’s?

Soap: …McDonald’s?

Ghost, holding out his hand: Bitch, give me a chip.

Soap, pulling the fries away: Is that how you ask?

Ghost, still holding out his hand: Bitch, PLEASE give me a chip.

Gaz: And yeah, we had a class with Graves.

Soap, feeding a fry to Ghost: Me too, I could tell.

Soap: He was drawing pictures of you guys the whole class.

Gaz: No way.

Ghost, with his mouth full: What are we doing on the pictures?

Soap: Like, being cute. Making kissy faces with hearts around it.

Gaz: SIMON, we’re gonna get murdered. We’re gonna get murdered by a guy who can’t even tie his FUCKING shoes. *slams his fist on the table*

Ghost: Well, at least he won’t torture us, can’t tie a rope either.

Soap: Yeah, but I ripped them up and threw them in the trash. Told that hoe to watch it.

Gaz: You’re the best, John.

Soap: I know.

Soap, walking away: Okay, I gotta go sell the janitor Adderall, I’ll see you guys later.

Ghost, once Soap’s gone: …he’s like the hottest man ever.

Gaz: And I love his hair.

Ghost: What’s gayer, dating a guy or wanting a guy to have sex with your dead body?

Gaz: Uh…dating a guy?

Ghost: Still straight… *sighs*

Gaz: What were we talking about…?

Gaz: Oh yeah, so, what’re we doing for marketing?

Ghost: It’s the movie casting thing, right?

Gaz: Yeah, yeah, so, I was thinking- *BOOM*

*Ghost and Gaz pause and look behind Gaz*

Ghost: I think the AC exploded again.

Gaz, looking back at Ghost: That scared me, but yeah.

Gaz: The challenge should be a cast of bald guys who don’t look like they say the n-word.

Ghost: How is that a challenge?

Gaz: Name one.

Ghost: Vin Diesel—no, wait…

Ghost: Bruce Willis—wow, this is challenging.

*BOOM BOOM*

Gaz: Damn, that’s a lot of AC units.

INTERCOM: *static* ATTENTION STUDENTS AND FACILITY ARE IN EMERGENCY LOCKDOWN. PLEASE FOLLOW PROCEDURES AT THIS TIME. *static*

Gaz: ..what the fuck was that about?-

*Ghost and Gaz flinch at the BOOM’s and people yelling and screaming behind the wall*

Ghost: Is that…

Gaz, getting up: GRAVES SNAPPED. WE GOTTA GET OUT OF HERE.

Ghost, not moving: Huh…

Gaz: What’re you doing?! Let’s go!

Ghost: We flirted with him yesterday, we’re the last people he’d kill. Just chill out.

Gaz: That’s easy for you to say, you took my last Xanax!

*Ghost watches as Gaz runs away*

Ghost, sitting there listening to the gunshots and screams: …

Ghost, noticing Gaz walking back to him: I thought you were running for it.

Gaz, sitting back down: Security locked the doors…

*BOOM*

Ghost: Damn, that was a big one.

Gaz: He won’t be in rush hour three.

*they both sit there listening to the banging and yells*

—————————

Original:

youtube

#call of duty modern warfare #cod mw3 #cod mw2 #call of duty #class of 09 #high school au #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mactavish #incorrect quotes #gotta love that game man #it’s so good #and chaotic I love it #please watch the original!#blue2black: call of duty

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voidaxolotl · 1 month

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Sitting here watching Jurrasic Park for the milli-fuckin-th time and have been thinking about ways the parked could've worked if they had, like, at least one person who ran a successful zoo with animals that weren't depressed.

Theres a whole post somewhere about giving the dinosaurs enrichment within their enclosures- like a giant pumpkin full of goats for the t-rex's, puzzles and doors with handles for the raptors, etc- and I can't help but to agree.

If Hammond had been patient and set up at least a year of just watching and researching the creatures they made, on the island were there are no cages and whatnot, then "paid no experience" to get some kind of animal handlers or something who have worked with apex predators- the carnivores in the park would've been too preoccupied with whatever lil toys and games that were made for them to be running at electic fences or noticing that said fences weren't elecrified anymore (like eventually they would've probably noticed? But if you have the big-boi-T-rex busy all day trying to get his lil arms into a giant verson of one of those dog treat things where you coat the inside with peanut butter? Big-boi would be too tired at night to go poke at a fence)

Now yes, the "raptors" (apparently the ones in the movies are closer to Utah raptors, not velocerapters?) could still pose a large problem with those large craniums the movies give them (those girls are sitting like, from well trained dog to tested monkey level of problem solvin). Solution? Don't breed raptor?

Yeah they'd miss out on one of the most popular dinosaur attraction, but the park would totally be safer. (it alsp would of they just, didn't put any of the carnivorous boys on the island but lets be real, that would be asking too mich of a large corporation) If they REALLY want raptors they could probably start with a much larger encloser to let them run around and check out the entire thing, then probably place different mazes with different prizes given to them at the end (maybe not food unless tbey see a human giving saod food to them or they'll associate "escape" or "getting in/out" of something = "food at the end" and end up eating whatever they see on the other side unless they are trained to associate "human" as "food giver" and not food)

But yeah. If Hammond had gotten a research team to go watch the "wild" creations he made for at least a year (if not each creatures life spans), hired trainers, handlers, etc who have worked with apex predators and large herbivors, had paid for larger enclosers and any enrichment for the animls- maybe his park would've held a better chance.

Oh, and firing Henry Wu. That was something the post I referenced earlier added- and I agree. Also, no making up "new dinosaurs" the things you made are already "new dinosaurs" because they're different to fossils and will have a diffierent behavior due to the new ecosystem they have been thrusted into (I believe both Henry and Grant make comments about this? The fact that what was made for the park weren't actually dinosaurs, just creatures we started giving that name to for lack of a better one)

Just make more dino merch if they park starts failing! But lets be real, with the emount of neurodivergent people who hyperfixate on dinosaurs, and the amount of kids that have a dinosaur phase almost right away, Jurassic Park would always have some kind of audience.

Anyways- theres my TED talk-

#jurrassic park rant #jurrasic park #and still watch jurrassic park when i feel down #jurrasic world #give the t-rex a giant pumpkin filled with meat #and give the triceratops giant watermelon to hit #give the pteridactyl bells to ring

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workingforthewidow · 1 year

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‘What you were wearin’ on the first night we met’

Welcome to part 2 of the Sun to Me series.

This story is NSFW and not for minors- if you are under 18 go ask your legal guardian if you can watch the movie.

Warnings: kidnapping, forced marriage, dub-con, attempted non-con, abuse, Stockholm syndrome, age gap (15 years- K&C are 19 Sinclairs are 33 soon to be 34 yes we will have a birthday party for them). Don’t like it don’t read it,

Proof read quickly. It’s 9pm and I’m about to sleep but wanted to get this out! I will proofread again in the morning!

Please reblog! I love seeing what y’all comment and tag :)

Request open see the pinned post for guidelines!

—

‘Oh my goodness why is it so hot? Sure it’s the middle of August but damn it shouldn’t be this hot. Ow fuck why does my head hurt?’ The thoughts swirled around Katie’s brain as she slowly came back into consciousness. She felt a weight around her neck and reached her hand up to feel metal encircling her throat. Her eyes opened and she took in the room around her. She was on a mattress on the floor and the metal around her neck was attached to the wall like she was a dog on chain. She looked down to see she was wearing her clothes. But the small joy disappeared when she realized they weren’t the clothes she had earlier. Someone had gone through her bag and changed her clothes.

The room was dimly lit with candles everywhere. That explained the heat. She could barely see around farther than 5 feet away. She looked around and couldn’t see or hear Caroline anywhere. Panic started to fill her body. Her breathing started to quicken.

“CAROLINE! CAROLINE!” She started screaming hoping to get some idea of where her sister was. She kept screaming her name until she heard a door swing open.

She pushed herself back as far against the wall as she could fear taking over the panic filling her. Tears filled her eyes as long jean clad legs came into view. Her eyes trailed up to see man with long black hair wearing an expressionless mask staring down at her.

“My sister, where is my sister?” She chocked out a sobbing beg.

The man continued to look at her before pulling out a notepad from his pocket and writing on it. Then he held it down to her.

~She is safe. So are you.~ He took back and began writing again.

“Why am I here? What are you doing to us?” She whispered though her sobs.

The man continued writing.

~I will explain later. I am going to get you food you have been asleep for 10 hours. Are you allergic to anything? Or your sister? Bo probably won’t think to ask that.~

Katie’s head spun again. So this guy and Bo knew each other. Maybe this guy was the owner of the museum, it would make sense seeing as it looked like this mask was made of wax.

“We can’t eat seafood. Fish or shellfish of any kind. But that’s it.” She said trying to hold back the tears. She thought back to all the crime shows she had watched, maybe if she went along things will be okay.

The man nodded and patted her head awkwardly like he didn’t know how to act around her. Maybe she was the first person he had ever held hostage. The man then turned and walked back of the room leaving Katie alone. Her only thoughts were on Caroline before she passed out again.

When she woke again there was a paper plate with what looked to be a peanut butter sandwich and chips, and a bottle of water set out next to her. Along with was a note with her name on it, spelled wrong but she knew it was meant for her. She opened the water bottle and was relieved when it popped like a fresh bottle does. ‘Okay so it’s most likely not poisoned.’ She thought picking up the sandwich noting it looked and smelled fine. She took a drink and started eating while she read over the note left for her.

~You are safe I promise. I do not plan to kill you. Your sister is safe as well. Bo won’t kill her.~ Kill it said kill not hurt, so maybe they did plan to hurt the girls. ~My name is Vincent, Bo is my twin. Whatever you need I will get for you just tell me. I hope you can learn to like it here and feel like it is your home. You are mine now and I will take care of you. Just be good and I can be good to you. I will be a good husband for you, my angel.~

‘Oh my god. Oh my god. They want wives? Why us?’ Her tears came flowing out again. Hadn’t enough bad things happened to them? First their parents die and they have to sell their house. This trip was suppose to be a fresh start. Drive to the coast and find a little place for the two of them. But now two psychos planned on keeping them.

Her sobs were so loud she didn’t hear the door open or Vincent’s footsteps as he approached. It wasn’t until he put his hand on her chin making her up to him did she notice him. She jumped and tried to move away from his touch but he tightened his grip on her chin holding her in place.

“Please, can I see Caroline? Please. We, we’ve never been this long without talking to each other.” She begged and pleaded with him.

He shook his head and used his other hand to brush at her hair which had fallen out of place sometime during her sleep.

Okay if she couldn’t see Caroline she at least needed to move a little, her legs were going to go to mush if she didn’t use them.

“Okay, umm can I take a shower and use the restroom? Please.” She tacked the please on at the end hoping it would better her chances. He looked at her and at the door and nodded slowly. He reached in his pocket and took out a key. He undid the metal collar around her throat and took her hand to help her stand.

“Thank you.” She said it barely above a whisper. He lead to other side of the room she hadn’t been able to see before. Her suitcase was there- so she was right he had her things. He pointed to the suitcase and she opened it getting some clean underwear and a bra, blood rushing to her cheeks as she quickly grabbed a purple satin set. Why did she let Caroline help her pick her clothes?

She went to grab her jeans but he stopped her, pulling out one of her dresses, a simple purple dress. Okay so this is how the game is going to be played. She could play along, so far he hadn’t physically hurt her or done anything immoral (besides kidnapping). She could play nice and work to find Caroline and get out of this hell. Away from the twin demons.

Once she had clothes in her hands, he put his hand on her back and led her down a hallway into a bathroom. Her toiletry bag already on the little shelf above the toilet.

The man, Vincent, looked at her then pointed to a watch on his wrist before holding up both hands then one hand. It took her a minute but she got it.

“I have 15 minutes?” He nodded and went to close the door and glared at her. “You’re going to stand at the door and wait for me?” She guessed again earning another nod. She nodded back and as soon as the door was closed started the water as hot as she could make it. While the water warmed she used the toilet realizing it had been well over 24 hours since the last time she had been able to use one. Once the water was hot she stepped in, and in an effort to conserve time she brought her toothbrush and brushed her teeth while she wet her hair. Not seeing any soap or shampoo she took the little travel bottles from her bag. Hopefully this Vincent man would get her some more if he really did plan on keeping her.

She showered as quickly as she could and climbed out of the shower drying off with the towel that had been hanging on a hook. She got dressed and brushed her wet hair highly doubting there would be a hair dryer anywhere. She looked in the mirror and was pleasantly surprised to see that she didn’t look completely awful. Sure her eyes were red and a little swollen from all the tears but maybe her mama was right, a good shower is good for the soul. She took one last look and opened the door.

True to his word Vincent was standing in front of the door, his back facing her. He turned and looked her up and down. He took her hand a walked her back to the room she was in before. But instead of going to the bed he sat her in a chair before standing behind her. She had no idea what was going to happen and her breath began to quicken. It slowed when she felt a brush being gently pulled through her hair, his hands even gentler than her own. After a few minutes he stopped and started parting her hair. It took her a moment but she realized he was braiding it. She stayed silent waiting for him to finish. She felt him drop her hair and then felt his fingers tracing the lines of some of the tattoos on her shoulders. His touch was light like a feather. Once he was done he awkwardly patted her head again and took her hand bring her back to the mattress.

While walking the short distance Katie felt her hair and noted he had done an amazing job at a double French braid held together at the end with what felt like average rubber bands. She would have to get her hair-ties from her bag and try to get him to use those if this would be common practice. She wondered if his mother had taught him to braid or he taught himself with his long hair. They got to the bed and he gestured for her to sit back down. Her eyes widened when he took the metal collar in hand, “Please, I promise I won’t run or do anything stupid. It… it… hurts. Please.” The tears had returned, running down her freshly cleaned face.

Vincent cocked his head looking at her and she assumed he weighing his options. He moved to another area in the room and she could hear him rummaging around some boxes. He returned seconds later with handcuffs. He held them in one hand and the metal collar in the other, giving her the choice. She didn’t trust her voice not to crack from the sobs and pointed to the handcuffs before holding her arms up, praying he didn’t make her put them behind her back. Thankfully he took her arms in front of her and locked the cuffs into place before pushing her, forcing her to lay down. Once he was sure she’d stay he walked away again before returning with his notepad and pen.

“Oh umm, you spelled my name wrong.” She said carefully, hoping her tone conveyed that she wasn’t upset or mad. Maybe having a somewhat normal conversation with him would help her situation. It was a pretty common mistake for someone to misspell her name. “You spelled it like how Captain Janeway spells her name. But my name is spelled like Catherine Zeta-Jones.” She couldn’t see his face but she could feel his confusion. “Oh um those pop culture references but I guess y’all don’t get much tv or movies out here. My name is spelled C-a-t-h-e-r-i-n-e not K-a-t-h-r-y-n, it happens all the time. I just thought since I’m living here now and all I should tell you. But if you want to call me Katie that’s fine. Most people do. And that is spelled with a K, K-a-t-i-e.”

Vincent nodded and scribbled down his reply, ~I like Catherine. Pretty name for a pretty girl. I will talk to Bo and see if you can see Caroline tomorrow. Do you want dinner?~

Caroline. He would let her see Caroline. That meant she was alive right? He couldn’t be that cruel as to give her false hope. “Thank you. I really just want to sleep. If that’s okay. There’s just so much going on.” It was then she realized she didn’t even know what time or even what day it was. She was in a basement of some sort with no clocks or windows.

Vincent nodded and wrote once more, ~Sleep would be good for you. I will be in the next room working. If you need anything come to me. I will know if you try to leave and it will not end well for you or your sister.~

Katie’s eyes tears up again, she hoped soon her tears would dry up, “Okay. I promise I will be here.” He stayed for a few minutes and watched her as she fell asleep before going back to his studio.

—

Caroline could feel pressure on her wrist and on her ankles. She tried wiggling them to no avail. Her eyes slowly opened but quickly widen when she took in her surroundings. She was in some kind of doctors chair with her hands and feet secured down. She couldn’t see Katie anywhere.

“Katie! Catherine!” She screamed hoping her sister would come out of somewhere.

“Baby if you wanna keep that tongue in your pretty little mouth you better shut the fuck up.” She heard a voice above her and looked up to see a sewer grate and the mechanic, Bo, standing over it. “I’ll be down there in a minute, you just calm down.”

Calm down? How the hell could she calm down? She was tied down in a basement and her sister was missing! What was she suppose to do? Katie had always been the one with the plans. Katie would know what to do. Thinking of her twin made the tears really start coming down her cheeks. Was she dead? Had he hurt her?

While these thoughts floated in her head she heard the door being pushed open and watched as Bo walked in like he didn’t have a worry in the world.

“Good morning baby. Slept a lot longer than ya sister. Heard her crying to Vinny already.” Katie was alive. Caroline didn’t say anything as Bo got closer to her and brushed her hair away from where it had fallen in her face. “Stop wiggling. Gonna mess up your wrist. Now if you promise to be good I’ll take the cuffs off. Let you eat and take a shower.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a knife.

Caroline looked to him with fear filled eyes and nodded.

“Wanna hear your words baby. Be a nice girl and use your manners.”

“Please take the cuffs off. I promise I’ll be good.” Her voice was soft and quiet like she was thinking over each word she said before saying it.

Bo smirked at her and carefully slid his knife under the duct tape undoing her wrist and ankles. He offered her his hand and helped her stand up, “Good girl. That wasn’t so hard now was it? Come ‘ere. Got your suitcase from your car. Picked a nice little outfit for you.” He lead her through a long hallway to a small bathroom. Her bathroom bag and a stack of clothes sat on the edge of the sink.

Bo pushed her in, following behind her, and closed the door.

“You have 15 minutes. After that I’m opening the door. Your choice if you want an audience yet or not.” He said holding her face to keep her eyes on his. “Tell me you understand.”

“Yes, 15 minutes. I understand.” He seemed to take that answer and stepped out of the room.

She made quick work of the using the restroom and getting in the shower. She tried to think of what was happening but all her thoughts lead her back to Katie. Trying to distract herself, she almost started her hair routine but cringed when she realized that was a mistake. It took her 10 minutes to get through the whole thing and that didn’t include washing her body or anything else. Maybe she was faster than she thought. If she had at least 10 minutes she could just do the routine quickly and hope the shampoo falling from her hair would be enough to wash her body for now.

“Bo?” She called softly hoping he wouldn’t open the door, “How much time do I have?”

“9 minutes.” His replied was muffled by the door.

Okay she could do it. She started the routine quickly running through all the steps. She finished and grabbed the towel off the sink drying herself before getting dress. Just as she was finishing putting on her bra and underwear, a soft baby pink matching lace set, the door swung open revealing a very happy looking Bo.

He let out a whistle and looked her over, pausing at her chest for longer than she liked. “Guess I do get a show today. Look at you didn’t expect to see all that on you.” He gestured to her tattoo covered body.

“Katie’s a tattoo artist and a seamstress. I do hair and makeup. We practice on each other. Hers is just a bit more permanent.” Caroline was suddenly very aware of how little clothing she had on. “Can I get dressed now? Please, sir.” She asked batting her eyelashes innocently. He said wanted a nice girl with manners and she’d be sure to use all the training her southern belle mama had put her through. Katie may have more book smarts than she did but Caroline knew how to play a man.

Bo’s smirk somehow got even darker than it already was, “Now look at that. She does have manners. I like that baby, you can keep that up. Put your clothes on hurry up. Need to eat.”

She took the clothes off the sink feeling his eyes watching her every move. She was expecting her tiny shorts and a crop top but he had taken one of her dresses. She pulled it one and tried to get the zipper up her back but failed. She tried again and huffed when she couldn’t get it.

“Let me do it baby.” His fingers moved down her spine slowly enjoying how soft her skin was. He easily pulled the zipper and moved her wet hair over one of her shoulders. Bending down he kissed the other shoulder where it met her neck.

“Thank you.” She said trying to keep up the act. She decided to try her hand at a request to see what she could get, “Can I… can I, please, dry my hair? Or can you do it? My dress will get messed up if it get wet. My hair supplies bag is in my suitcase.” She looked up at the mirror in front of her and caught his gaze. He was smirking again.

He kissed her neck again and wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her back to his chest. “I guess since you asked so nicely I’ll let you. Can’t have my pretty little wife walking around in messed up clothes.”

Caroline felt like she was going to vomit. Wife. What the fuck was this psycho talking about? She was so wrapped in her head she didn’t even notice he had left the room and came back with things. She went to grab them but he held them in one hand high above his head. He was at least a foot taller than her so the objects were far from her reach.

“If you want them you gotta pay the price baby.” He pulled her against his chest and pressed his lips to hers. Her first reaction was to pull away but she reminded herself to play along. She let him kiss her, letting him move his lips against hers, and when his tongue traced along the seam of her lips she let him in.

He finally pulled away after what felt like a lifetime, “Good girl. Do that curly thing again. I like that and keep it down.” She nodded and started drying her hair trying to do it as quickly as possible.

Bo stood in the doorway blocking her in just in case she decided to be brave and get away from him. Damn she was pretty. His pretty little housewife. He had always wanted the perfect family. Pretty little wife to cook and clean while he went to work. He’d come home and she’d be waiting at the door for him beer in hand and a welcome home kiss while their kids ran up to him wanting hugs from their daddy. It would be perfect just like he dreamed.

“Bo…. Bo?” He didn’t hear her softly saying his name until she put her hand on his chest. “Are you okay? You looked as spaced out as I do when Katie starts going off about whatever book she’s reading.” She giggled softly thinking of her sister and Bo thought it was the prettiest music he had ever heard.

“Just fine, baby. Thinking about how pretty you are and what a good little wife and mama you’re gonna be.” He ran his hand through her soft curls happy she had followed his directions. “You promise to be good?”

He made it sound like he was going to offer something. She’d take anything she could get at the moment. “Yes, sir, I will be good.”

“Good girl. Gonna take you home now. Gotta lot of work for you and that sister of yours if Vincent lets her out of the studio.” He took her hand and led her out of the underground. Seeing sunlight was nice and feeling it against her skin was even better. They walked to his truck his hand holding hers tightly a sign for her not to run. He opened the truck door and helped her up before climbing in the driver side. He pulled her across the bench seat and wrapped one arm around her waist while driving with the other.

‘Play the game Caroline it’s just a game.’ She reminded herself to give her the courage to do what she was about to do.

She turned her head and pressed her lips to his cheek briefly, “Thank you, this is my favorite dress.” ‘Be calm and play the game.’ He’s a man, Mama always said all men what two things- food and sex. One she could do with ease, the other not so much. Mama raised them with the church to be good pure girls.

Bo took his arm from her waist and moved his hand to her thigh, squeezing a little harder then she was expecting. “You’re welcome baby. You keep being good and I’ll make sure you have everything your little heart wants.”

One more try, she would try one more time to see Katie today, “Can I see Katie yet? Please just for a minute.” She had been able to hold back the tears for a long time but finally thinking about her sister again made them flow.

Bo sighed and rolled his eyes gripping her thigh again. “Not right now. You make me a good lunch and start your housework and maybe I’ll think about it. Okay?”

She nodded and wiped the tears from her cheeks. Luckily this time he didn’t make her speak it. Her voice would probably crack if she had to speak right now. Finally they made it to the house and he lead her inside to the kitchen.

He open the fridge and grabbed a beer, “Make whatever you want with what we got. Make a list of things you’ll need and I’ll have Lester pick them up next time he goes out to the city for supplies,” he noticed the confusing on her face at the mention of Lester, “Les is the youngest brother. Me and Vincent are twins but Mama said I’m the older one. Then Lester came 3 years later.” He didn’t know why he told her all that but maybe it was good he felt comfortable telling her about their family that fast. She was the new Sinclair matriarch in a sense. “Now get to cooking baby. You got a lot to learn to be a good little wife.”

She rummaged around the kitchen finding enough things to make chicken and beans. There didn’t seem to be a fruit or vegetable in the house at all. Those would be first on her list. While she moved around the kitchen finding things she needed to cook, Bo sat at the table with his beer and went over his expectations for his new ‘wife’.

1.) No leaving the house without him or one of his brothers being with her

2.) Make sure all meals are made on time. He can’t be late for work. (Caroline wondered how you can be late for work when you are the owner and boss.)

3.) When he comes home at the end of the day she was to be at the door waiting of him, smile on her face and beer in hand, ready for his welcome home kiss

4.) Make sure the house stays clean, can’t have anything dangerous out once babies start coming. But only rooms with the doors open. He closed all the rooms she wasn’t allowed in.

5.) If she sees anyone in town besides one of the boys she was not allowed to speak to them unless it was to direct them to the boys. As soon as the strangers were gone she was to go to their room and hide. And if she heard screams- no she didn’t.

“Get all that through your pretty head, baby?” He asked her while she plate his food and sat in front of him.

“Yes, stay home, cook, clean, don’t talk to strangers, beer and kiss when you come home.” Like a good southern wife. He didn’t have to tell her most of those rules her mama already had. Hopefully if her twin was with his twin he wasn’t wanting what Bo wanted. Katie didn’t grasp all this the way Caroline did. Katie’s nose was too stuck in books to learn anything about this.

“Good. Where’s your food?”

“Not hungry. Just tired.” She even yawned at the end. He had said she slept all night but she felt like she had been hit by a truck. Bo pulled her onto his lap and held a sliced chicken to her lips.

“You can take a nap after you eat something. Can’t have ya withering away on me. You gotta be nice and healthy for our babies.” His other hand ghosted over her empty midsection as if to pretend a life was growing instead. Caroline had to control herself not to cringe and slowly chewed the meat. That seemed to satisfy Bo for while. He ate the whole meal occasionally feeding her bits of it.

“I knew I found a good one,” he said kissing her shoulder, “That was better than anything Mama ever made. You still wanna nap?”

Caroline yawned and nodded her head, “Please.”

Bo smiled and stood still holding her in his arms. She wrapped her legs about his waist to hold herself. He carried her up a staircase and into what she assumed was his room.

“Once I know you’re really gonna be good I’ll let ya redecorate. Give it a woman’s touch.” He said laying her down on the bed and pulling a blanket over her. “I gotta go see Vinny. You stay here and nap. If you wake up and I’m still gone you can go to the kitchen and wash dishes. I’m being nice since you’re still learning but after today dishes are done before bed.” She nodded as he continued this time getting in her face his forehead against hers, noses touching. “If I come back to this house and you aren’t in this room, the bathroom next door, or the kitchen- I will take my shotgun and shoot your sister in between the eyes, before coming for you. Understand baby?”

Tears sprang to her eyes immediately and she nodded her head fiercely, “Y-ye-yes, Bo. Yes, sir. I understand. I promise I will be good.”

That seemed to make Bo happy since he kissed her softly and left her to fall asleep.

#house of wax #house of wax 2005 #slasher fanfic #slasher fic #slashers #bo sinclair #brian van holt #vincent sinclair #Sadly no Jonesy this chapter #She will return for the birthday party #house of wax fic

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shipskicksandgiggles · 1 year

Text

dialogue prompts

so for those unaware of how my life tends to go, I end up in a lot of situations where I end up saying something weird or people say weird things to me, and I like adapting those things into prompt lists. send whatever ship/character/what have you with a number and we’ll see how this goes

“Did I go too far?” “Did you go too far? I called my husband a cartoon lesbian!”

“You’re throwing candy at him and he doesn’t even have his tits out.” “That’s how he gets a peanut butter cup.”

“Conservative radio? That has to be Rush Limbaugh.” “Fuck Rush Limbaugh!”

“I’m a massive fucking atheist, but it brings me so much joy to picture Nancy Reagan in hell.”

“You’re so small, it’s like your body can’t contain your excitement. It’s really funny to watch actually.”

“Do not use the word ‘curate’ in relation to 80s heavy metal. You picked it. ‘Curate’, fuck off.”

“I think the neighbors got evicted.” “No, really? It’s about time.”

“You’re like the guy, what’s his name, can’t talk to girls?” “I’d be mad if you weren’t totally right.”

“When you were little I thought you might have been autistic.” “When I was little?”

“You have been gone for six hours-” “Hello child.” “Hi dad- more than six hours actually-”

“I almost took the wrong exit and ended up in Canada, so that’s my day.”

“Who has childproof locks on their car doors?” “What?” “I don’t know, I got stuck in the backseat of a car because of childproofing that shouldn’t exist.”

“I feel like your boyfriend can’t cook.” “Why would you think that?” “Because you cook for him sometimes.” “Why would that mean he can’t though?”

“I think my grandpa tried to set me up with his pastor’s son. Stop laughing, this is serious.”

“Why did she hate you?” “No idea, at that point I was just trying to survive middle school.”

“Well, I mean, the waitress was flirting with you.” “The waitress was what now?”

“What kind of cosmic fuck up did you make to result in this kind of karma?” “I don’t know. I’m so tired.”

“What are you, a dog? Stop chewing on that, you absolute child.”

“You’re just boobing all over the place.” “Boobing.”

“Wait, hold on, let me guess. May of whatever year we were in seventh grade in Detroit.” “Yeah actually, what the fuck? That’s so specific, how did you do that?”

“I like that you call information about yourself lore… Wait, did you just say you got hit by a car?” “I love the order you processed that in.”

“Who had them pegged as the bitch with the biggest tits in this apartment? Not me, that’s for sure.”

“Come here, I need you to bless the vodka bottle.” “I don’t believe in Jesus.” “You don’t need to, just come bless the bottle.”

“I’m stealing his daughter and if he’s still being a homophobe I’ll steal his wife too.”

“I broke up with my boyfriend and my therapist fucking cheered.” “I don’t disagree with her.”

“You would suck dick for a crab rangoon.” “Oh for sure.”

“Someone just handed me condoms in a way that seemed like he thought I had the hardware to be able to use them, however I like that I pass as someone who does, so I’ll take it.”

“So you’re like, an expert on the Titanic, right?” “Is this about the submarine?” “Maybe.” “Great, buckle in, you’ve come to the right person.”

“Do you want me to explain bottom surgery to you? Because I think you’re going to get grossed out.” “Yeah, I’ll be fine.” (dear reader, she was, in fact, grossed out)

“You have main character things happen to you while having the attitude of a quirky side character, and I love it.”

“Is that a lemon?” “It’s a cat, but I see where you’re coming from.”

“During pride month? This is homophobia.” “That was loud.” “Good, I hope the homophobe heard.”

“He was like, ‘is your roommate hot?’ and I was like ‘what, yeah, why?’ like who asks that?” “You think I’m hot?”

“So I have a proposition.” “No.” “You don’t even know what it is.” “Yes I do. That one asshole is hitting you up for a booty call. Don’t.” “Bitch.”

“Where are your wisdom teeth?” “Probably in a medical waste container somewhere if they’re still on this plane of existence.”

“I thought he was kidding!” “Who would joke about a turtle?”

“Hey, can someone drive me to the Urgent Care?” “Like now?” “If you’re not busy.”

“Listen. I avoided admitting myself to a hospital for any reason for almost 17 years. Don’t yell at me for not knowing that wasn’t an Urgent Care problem.”

“Whose Rabbi came to the soccer game?”

“Are you fucking colorblind? That’s purple.”

“I got hit on at the grocery store.” “Was he cute?” “He looked greasy.”

“How do you not know who David Bowie is?” “That is the loudest I’ve ever heard you, holy fuck.”

“When I get wine drunk, I get horny.” “We could have a threesome.” “There’s four people here.” “Oh. Foursome then.”

“Hey can I give you a dollar for one of those beanie babies? I need to butcher it for a cat toy.” “Sure?”

“Sit, we need to talk to you about something.” “Remember when you got high a couple weeks ago and had a gender crisis?”

“Are you going to stab me?” “What? Oh, butter knife, sorry.”

“You know when men have that little swoop of hair? The queef?” “Oh my god I’m crying, you mean a quiff.”

“There is a very large bug on my flowers and I don’t want to touch it.” “That’s my cicada, he’s already dead.”

“Dude, I’ve lived with you for like three months, you’re so obviously a switch.”

“Sometimes you say things and I do not question you because they are the most on brand things you could possibly say. Like sure, I’ll buy that you listen to punk music and have a high pain tolerance. That seems right.”

#ellis writes #prompts #writing prompts #dialogue prompts #send prompts #these are some fun ones #also if anyone wants to send a good omens prompt 👀

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