#'wish we could turn back time/ to the good old days' yeah man I feel that.

[infiniteseriesofhalfways]

Hey, I know the fandom's long gone now and you're not on here as much, but I just wanted to tell you I'm really glad I got to meet you through AH. Your writing for fahc stuff always made me smile and I still have a bunch of it saved in my drafts cause I used to go back and re-read it so much, every so often I think about the think about the writing prompt you did once for Michael, Gavin and Jeremy with "the happiest we ever were" and it makes me feel some sort of way I can't even describe. Anyway, you're really cool and an amazing writer and I'm very lucky I got to share a fandom space with you <3

First, thank you so much, this is incredibly sweet (and flattering) and although I know it might be lame to say back at you, I mean... back at you. I'm pretty sure I'm the lucky one here, because I'm just some guy who wrote some words one time, and yet it introduced me to some of the best people I've known, yourself included.

I think back on that time so often, and I'm always wishing to go back to it, to not have let myself lose it. It was so much fun and it brought me so much joy I can't even begin to put it into words.

I could go on and on about how much the fandom means to me, but suffice it to say I am forever grateful to have shared the space with you, and you're in my heart always 💚💚

[gay-dorito-dust]

Giving Bill Cipher the princess treatment prompt or hc's? (Bill totally isn't threatening Reader's entire family if they don't princess carry him and call him babygirl) I love how you write Bill by the way!

Warning: unhealthy relationship stuff and threats from bill.

After everything that went down with sixer and his supposed ‘betrayal’ bill didn’t think he’d find an another puppet companion so soon until one day he came across poor unfortunate you.

Some half baked sob stories of his origins and looking through his fingers at you to make sure you were feeling sympathy for him later, and you were effectively under his thumb by the end of the week. The quickest he’s ever manipulated someone into feeling sorry for him yet!

Now you were stuck forced to carry him in your arms whenever he wished and calling him…baby girl…why you never bothered to ask as whenever you did raise things into question with Bill it usual turns out something like this:

You: don’t you think that’s a little extreme?

Bill: and here I thought you were suppose to be supportive of my dreams and aspirations. Oh well I guess you didn’t need your family that much if you’re quick to question me-

You: No! It’s a brilliant plan! No flaws at all! You’re so smart…baby girl…

Bill: *smirks when you fall back in line* good now I demand to be carried in your arms *he gives you grabby hands*

You: *sigh* yes baby girl *proceeds to pick him up and carry him for the rest of the day*

You’d even have to call Bill baby girl when your mad unless you wanted the corpses of your family to be piled up on your front door!

It was ridiculous but what could you do when stuck in a less than ideal relationship with a demonic triangle who could bring you to heel with a simple click of his fingers? You were doomed to be his servant for the sake of your family and even if you did go to anyone about it, who’d believe you? You’d be the new old man Mcgucket for certain.

So you only sigh and do whatever Bill wanted in hopes it will satisfy him enough to leave your family alone, even if it was brief.

The worst case scenario would be If bill saw that you weren’t being enthusiastic in your affection towards him, then that would be a harder thing to dig your way out of. It didn’t matter whether you were tired mentally or physically, if Bill wanted to be carried in your arms he will want you to do so with a complicit smile on your face.

Bill: you don’t look happy to be carrying me? *squints his eye*

You: *quickly puts on a fake smile* what?! I’m more than happy to carry my baby girl! It’s the only highlight of my day, nothing could ever compete with spending time with my baby girl!

Bill: good! For a second there I thought you’d have to be attending a family members funeral for a moment. Haha guess I must’ve been seeing things, right? *he stares uncomfortably at you*

You: yeah because how could I ever show you any other emotion other than happiness and love. *internally dying*

Bill: also don’t over compliment me, it makes you look clingy and I don’t like clingy.

You internally: as if you aren’t clingy yourself you fucking discarded sentient Dorito chip.

It’s better to keep playing his game until he inevitably grows bored of you, and god forbid if you ever encounter Stanford Pines ever, your family is certain for destruction if Bill caught you talking to his traitorous ex partner. (Potential for Stanford x reader?)

Needles to say if you were to ever be granted the ability to time travel, you’d go back and warn yourself to not trust Bill Cipher, not if you want your family’s blood on your hands just because you didn’t call him Babygirl first thing in the morning.

You: morning bi-

Bill: whichever family member your love the most will die in 5 seconds if you don’t correct yourself sweetie.

You: morning babygirl, what should we do today?

Bill: *pats you on the shoulder* that wasn’t so hard was it? And I don’t feel like doing anything that requires me to part from you for suspicious periods of time incase you do something I don’t like. *stares at you menacingly*

You: good choice! All day with my babygirl? I’m so lucky…so extremely….lucky. *looks over at the photo of your family and friends* blessed even…

Bill: you sure are! Now why don’t you carry me! *grabby hands 2.0*

[lamiadrowned]

Hellooo! those jinx dating headcanons were so cute, could you maybe expand on Silco meeting Jinx's partner? 🩷

*:･ﾟ✧ silco meeting jinx’s partner

jinx x fem!reader | sfw

this made me so happy to write, the flashback we got of younger silco is heavy on my mind :,) missing him

it would definitely be a lot less intimidating than you’d expect!

in the month or so that you’ve been with jinx, silco isn’t immediately distrusting of you since she talks often about how great you are. not only that, but he can see the difference you’ve made in her life and her mental state. how cheery she becomes when she talks about you. how big her smile gets when he asks about you.

however, it seems she’s a bit embarrassed at the idea of introducing him to you. so, being the protective father that he is, he takes the initiative.

one day, as you’re heading home from work, you quickly reach for the switchblade in your back pocket when you feel a hand on your shoulder behind you.

you turn around to see there’s a woman (who is considerably taller and buffer than you) standing there, clearly surprised to see a knife pointed at her. “my name is sevika, i’m here on behalf of silco. he wants to see you in his office before the day ends. is now a good time?”

thankfully, you recognize the name. jinx had talked about going on a few missions with her. you lower your knife and shrug. “uh… yeah. yeah, now’s fine. lead the way.”

she nods and proceeds to walk with you a few streets down to the building, offering some polite conversation and reassurance– this meeting is solely for the purpose of introducing himself to you, since his daughter won’t.

she takes you to the door of silco’s office, opening it for you and wishing you good luck.

you don’t immediately see silco, but you do hear his voice. “take a seat wherever you’d like.”

once sevika shuts the door behind you, you take a deep breath and follow his instructions; sitting down at his desk and watching his own chair spin around so that he can finally come face-to-face with you.

your anxiety is through the roof and your heart won’t slow down no matter how many deep breaths you take, but you’re able to muster a polite smile.

he sees right through it, though. of course. like father, like daughter. “you seem frightened. i apologize if sevika gave you a scare.“

“oh, no– she was really nice. it’s just… i wasn’t expecting a meeting with the kingpin of the underground today.” you joke.

he laughs, which makes you a bit more comfortable. “another apology is in order, then. i know this is sudden, but jinx… she gets so bashful at the idea of introducing us. i figured, why don’t i take the big leap?”

you nod. “yeah, of course. she talks very highly of you.”

“and you, as well. she talks my ear off, a million words a minute if she finds a way to bring you up.” silco shakes his head with a growing smile. “it’s impressive, how quickly she’s become smitten with you. i’d think you were a sorceress if i didn’t know any better.”

you’re flattered by his kind words, and a bit excited by the fact that she seemingly talks about you so much. you must be doing something right.

the two of you continue on as you answer all of the questions he asks about your upbringing and your current life, and you ask questions about his. it almost begins to feel like you’re talking to an old friend, not the most feared and influential man in the lanes.

however, at one point, he suddenly becomes very serious.

“now, i feel this is an appropriate time to tell you this. you seem to be a genuinely good person, which is all too rare these days.” silco sighs. then, he clasps his hands together and casually leans forward onto the desk, resting his chin on his fists. “with that being said, if i ever come to find out that you have made my daughter suffer in any way, and you will never know peace again. do i make myself clear?”

your eyes widen. you’re finally starting to see why the entire population of zaun is scared witless by him. “understood. it will never come to that, though. i can only hope you take my word for it.”

silco nods in approval of your answer. he’s very impressed by your ability to remain calm in the face of his intimidation. it only proves to him that you’re as good as you seem, and that your intentions are pure– you have nothing to hide.

after a brief silence, he opens his mouth to speak again, but he’s interrupted by the sound of his office door slamming open.

“she’s missing!”

you’re shocked to hear jinx. she sounds frantic, voice hoarse and pitchy, like she can’t contain her terror. “i checked everywhere, high and low! we need to send one of your goons to–”

she’s silenced when she sees you turn around in your chair and meet her glare. her look of horror turns into one of confusion. “what the hell is going on here? is this an intervention?”

you snort at her question, patting the chair next to you, inviting her to come sit down. her shoulders slump and she lets out a dramatic huff as she sulks over to sit beside you. her arms cross defensively. “i don’t know what you weirdos think i did, but those fireworks going off last night were not mine, and to be frank, it’s kind of offensive that you’d assume i–”

“jinx, if you don’t mind,” silco puts a hand up, imploring her to stop talking. “we’ll talk about those fireworks later.”

“what?! i just said they weren’t mine.” jinx scoffs.

“you ramble when you lie. don’t you think i’d know that by now?” silco sighs. “that’s beside the point. since you had no plans to introduce me to y/n, i decided to introduce myself.”

you hum in confirmation. “that’s all. no intervention.”

it takes jinx a long moment to process this information; it seems as if she forgot silco has eyes everywhere, and when he wants something done, it will be done.

you’re almost expecting her to be upset before a beaming smile replaces the scowl on her face. “un-fuckin’-believable! i’m searching all over zaun for you, while you’re here, kicking back with him?!” she points in his direction.

“precisely.” silco steps in for you, aware that this is one of those times where she is very happy, yet tries to pretend that she is very upset. “if it’s of any reassurance to you– to both of you– this relationship has my badge of approval.”

instantly, you feel a sense of pride in knowing that you’d made such a good impression on him. he’s a man that’s very hard to impress, as far as you’ve heard.

you reach for jinx’s hand and squeeze it. her smile is almost as big as yours now. “look at that. i aced the big interview, and i haven’t gone missing.“

[onelittlespiral]

Tf where someone's huge musky cock keeps turning others into massive muscle bros on accident?

FML: Cursed

Up front, I’ll say this one’s a bit different. Let me know if you all like it. -❤️

Everything was too bright. My head was pounding. Memories were fading in and out from last night. Fuck, how much did I have to drink last night? I stumbled out of bed, trying to forced myself towards the bathroom to take a piss. I had made a New Year’s resolution to quit the bottle. Yeah, so much for that. I managed a quick piss and splashed some cold water on my face. That helped a bit. At this point all I wanted to do was bury my head back in my pillow. Slowly, I shuffled back towards my bed:

“Yeah? You coming back for more of this?”

A man. A man was in my bed. A hunk of a man was flexing in my bed. My mouth hung open for a moment as my brain chugged to life. I couldn’t quite believe it.

“…God damn it! Uggh, what did I let happen?”

“What, not in the mood? I can be quite,” he started a little pec dance, “persuasive.”

I was not in a mood to be amused by his flirting. “No, no it’s not you-or at least it is you now but-” I stammered, “Look. It’s complicated. Get up, please, I need you out of here. If you take some time to… cool off… it should pass.” I paused a moment, “I’m sorry.”

Quickly, I started pulling together what clothes I could find that would fit his new stature and tossed them at him. Even facing away from him I could tell he was a little taken aback. I’m sure in his current brain he couldn’t quite believe he was being rejected. But I knew it was better for everyone that he leave now. I scooped up his old clothing and threw it all into a tote. It wasn’t his fault he was here in this situation, getting kicked out of a stranger’s house early in the morning. Maybe that’s why I scribbled down my contact info and slipped it into the bag. He would have questions later, he deserved some answers. By now he had managed to put on the cut off tank and the shorts I had thrown him. The shorts were a size too small and left nothing to the imagination, but it would have to work. I doubted his canvas shoes would fit over those behemoths. He would have to go barefoot. After a few awkward pleasantries where he asked me if we should lift together some time and I politely declined, he finally got the message and slipped out the door. I locked it behind him and slumped to the floor. I still had a headache.

It was going to be a long day. At this point I was awake, so I just decided to hit the shower. The steam helped clear my mind so I could try to piece the night together. It had been two years now and it was still happening. I wish I knew how to stop it. But looking back, I’m not sure what else I could have done. Every time it happened though, every time I saw his face, I just replayed that day again in my mind:

We were sitting at our favorite cafe when I broke the news.

“What do you mean? You’re breaking up with me?” my ex boyfriend was stunned. Truly, I don’t think this had ever happened to him before.

“Please don’t act surprised. We both knew this was coming. We aren’t good for each other.”

“Baby, we aren’t good for each other,” he cooed, leaning over and cupping my jaw, “We’re great together. You can’t pretend to deny it. I can feel that cock twitch, hear every moan when you’re inside me. Come on, let’s go home and I’ll bring you to your knees.”

“No. This isn’t about us in bed. This is everything outside of it. I don’t like how you talk to me, how you treat me, how you touch me,” I said, slapping his hand from my face, “and how you treat everyone in the world as your plaything. I just can’t put up with it anymore.”

That finally set him off, “Oh, you have no idea what I can do.” He snapped his fingers.

I watched as a man in a suit next to us dropped his book. He began to convulse, and I watched in horror. He reverted from his fifties to his late twenties in a moment, smoothing his wrinkles as his hair turned from silver to brown. His skin tightened around his swelling body, as his muscles easily ripped through his shirt and pants. A deep moan escaped his mouth as his clothes reformed themselves into a tank top and gym shorts. As a snap-back hat formed and tightened around his head, I grimaced, knowing that his mind was being assaulted with a new identity. I knew the look on his face well as drool flowed from his open mouth. Then, all at once it stopped. He just picked up his book and kept reading. No one else even seemed to notice what had taken place.

It was a thinly veiled threat and we both knew it. “See? This is the shit I’m talking about. What happens to him now? He had nothing to do with this, you just can’t contain yourself.”

“Oh relax, he’s fine. I didn’t dumb him like I do to you. No one will ever remember anything different. Though I imagine whatever new hires at his firm will be confused why the new boss is a jacked gym bro while everyone else in the office is pushing 40 and wearing suits.” He chuckled at his own joke.

“I can’t! I can’t do this anymore. I don’t ever want to see you again.” I gathered my things to make my exit.

He came round the table, in a far less joking mood, “You’ll regret that,” he grabbed at my groin and cupped my package, “from now on, whenever that gets going, I have a feeling you will be seeing a lot of me” I felt a stirring in my sack. Something had… shifted?

“What did you do?” my shouting had finally drawn the attention of onlookers.

“Good luck, baby. You ever want that resolved, you’ll have to find me.” With that, he turned heel and left.

Now, two years later, he was right. I had seen far too much of him. The water had gone cold. I turned the faucets off and stepped out to dry myself off.

The first time had been a shock. I had given myself time to heal from the relationship, but about two months in I decided to head to a bar. Immediately something was off when I entered. I saw a few old flings, and a friend or two who were surprised to see me there. But it was like when I entered the whole place shifted towards me. Men were buying me drinks and fawning for my attention. The bartender even slipped a few comments in. They all looked smitten with me, trying to get just a little closer. By the end of the night I had some twink sitting in my lap. I decided it was time to blow off some steam. I took him to my place, where he immediately began tearing off my clothes inside the door. I managed to get him back to my bedroom before he had my boxers off. Immediately he buried his nose into my bush. Admittedly I hadn’t been keeping shaved since the breakup, and I guess that was doing it for him. He went to town on my cock. I wasn’t prepared for him to take it in one thrust, but he wasn’t waiting. All I could do was grab his hair and hold on as he worked my cock like a pro. I felt his hair curl beneath my fingers as I held on for the ride, moaning as he pushed all my buttons. He knew just when to pull back to keep me edging, his thick fingers holding on as he devoured my cock. Finally I knew I needed to fuck him. I pulled him off of my cock, but as he stood up and his dazed expression met mine I screamed.

“Fuck baby, where have you been all of my life?” he said.

He was the spitting image of my ex. The hair, the muscle, even that stupid nickname. In shock I pushed him away as he gave me a look of confusion.

“What are you doing here? I told you I never wanted to see you again.”

He looked back at me confused, “What are you talking about? We just met like a few hours ago. You invited me over. Sorry.”

Something about the statement rang true. I only realized later it was because he apologized. My ex would never. “Did he put you up to this? What’s your name?”

“Hey, I’m not sure who you’re talking about, okay? I’m Justin. I was just looking for a good time.”

“Have you seen yourself? You don’t look like the twink I met at the bar.” I retorted

He looked in the mirror, and his face seemed to puzzle for a sec. I knew that look. He was trying to reconcile memories he had. Fake memories. Then he smirked, “Yeah, pretty hot right? I’ve been working out, getting that more twunk look going.”

So he was clueless then. It was weird seeing someone look so much like him, and have a mix of his mannerisms and others. He had certainly made sure his cockiness was implemented. The asshole.

“Look, I’m not sure tonight is going to work out. I need you out of here. Now.” That was a little mean, it wasn’t his fault. But he had to go. I gave him some of my ex’s clothes he had left lying around and pushed him out the door without saying goodnight. It was only next week when I went to the bar that I saw him again. He had seemingly gone back to normal, besides a very distinctive mustache and stubble he was growing now. It didn’t fit his thin, hairless body and it made me chuckle…

*BZZZZZT*

My phone was getting a call from an unknown number. I guess it was time to answer some questions:

-Hey, I found this number in my bag. This the guy from last night?

*Sigh*

-Yeah, it’s me. Are you, uh, feeling better? More… yourself?

-So I’m not crazy! What was that? What happened?

-I am so so so sorry. It’s a long story. Let’s just say my ex is… a looot.

-Well hey, who’s isn’t?

I chuckled

-You’re taking this surprisingly well. Most guys don’t want to look at me after all this.

-So this has happened before?

-Yes. But I promise I didn’t mean to. I must have gotten too drunk last night, and I know that’s not a good excuse. But I’m not sure what to do about it and at this point I’d starting to think I never will

-Woah, woah. Calm down. Would you want someone to come over? To talk to?

I paused.

-No, I think I’ll be fine.

-Please, I want to. I want answers and it seems like you need someone.

-I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Plus, I don’t think I can see you like that.

-I promise. I don’t think I have anything the same.

-Promise?

-Here, look

He did look back to normal. And he was quite cute. I can see why drunk me decided to pick him…

-Still, I’m not sure…

-Nope, it’s decided. I know the address, I’ll be there later tonight around 6. *click*

What had just happened? I think, against all odds, I just got roped into a second date.

God damn it.

[snowysosturn]

Speeding Car - Matt Sturniolo Part 13

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29

Pairing : y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary : After six years with your boyfriend Alex, you start to mentally check out. At a UCLA party, Alex reconnects with his childhood friend Emily, who proposes a double date with her boyfriend Matt. Your attraction to Matt grows as he pays you the first real attention you've had in years, sparking a complicated emotional journey.

Warnings : MDNI, slight tension, angst, suggestive, praise, flirting (kinda), cursing

Matts POV

The sun was dipping low, casting warm orange and pink hues across the sky as I stared out the window. The day had been pretty chill now that Emily was gone, I had some space and could just hang out with Chris and Nick. But now, things were about to get a whole lot more interesting. Nate, our friend from Boston, was visiting for the next week or so and had just arrived at our house. It felt like old times again, having the whole gang together.

“Yo, Matt!” Nate’s voice rang out from the living room. “You ready to lose tonight?”

I smirked, walking in to find him and Chris sprawled out on the couch. “Lose? You mean, are you ready to lose? I’ve been working on my swing, man.”

Nate laughed, shaking his head. “We’ll see about that. My game’s been on point lately.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll put 100 bucks on it.” I said, rolling my eyes and grabbing my phone off the counter. “Where’s Nick?”

“He’s in his room,” Chris said. “Probably trying to pick out an outfit like it’s some kind of fashion show.”

I chuckled. “Well, he better hurry up. We’re supposed to leave in like ten minutes.”

As if on cue, Nick walked down the stairs into the room, looking way too casual for someone who’d spent an extra ten minutes getting ready.

“Speaking of the devil.” I said, crossing my arms with a grin, “You finally done making yourself pretty?”

Nick laughed it off. “I was just making sure my plus one could come.”

“Plus one?” I raised an eyebrow, not sure what he meant.

“Yeah?” Nick said, glancing around the room at all of us. “I invited Y/n to come with us.”

I felt my grin fade a bit, replaced by surprise. I hadn’t seen that coming. Not that I had a problem with Y/n coming along, but with everything that had gone down with Emily... things were complicated, especially after last time.

I shot Nick a look, trying to figure out what he was thinking. “You sure that’s a good idea? I mean, Emily wasn’t exactly happy about us hanging out.”

Nick shrugged, looking calm and collected. “If I remember right, she said she didn’t want you two hanging out alone. We’re all going, right? It’s not like it’s just you and Y/n. There’ll be six of us total.”

I thought about that for a second, replaying Emily’s words in my head. Nick wasn’t wrong. Emily’s issue was with me and Y/n spending time together one on one, not in a group. And honestly, Y/n was Nick’s friend too. We couldn’t just exclude her because of Emily’s feelings.

Nick gave me that knowing look, a half-smile tugging at his lips. “Come on, man. Don’t overthink it. It’s just Top Golf.”

I sighed, feeling some of the tension slip away as I realized Nick had a point. There was no reason to blow this out of proportion. It was just a fun night out with friends.

“Alright, fine,” I said, clapping Nick on the shoulder. “But you’re dealing with Emily if she freaks out.”

Nick chuckled. “Deal. I told her we’ll pick her up on the way.”

The doorbell rang then, echoing through the house.

“That’ll be Madi,” Chris said, getting up to answer it.

I ran a hand through my hair, trying to shake off the last bit of unease. I grabbed my keys off the counter and turned back to the guys. “Alright, let’s do this. Nate, I hope you’re ready to lose your money tonight.”

Nate laughed, his confidence unwavering. “You wish.”

We all grabbed our stuff and headed out the door, the excitement for the night starting to build. As I locked up, I couldn’t help but wonder how the evening was going to play out. With Y/n along for the ride, things were bound to go one of two ways, to be very awkward or very interesting.

But as I climbed into the car with my friends, I pushed those thoughts aside. Tonight was about having fun. Whatever happened, I'd deal with it together. Just like I always did.

Y/n POV

I blinked at the message, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. I hadn’t been expecting an invitation tonight. Before I could overthink it, I typed back a quick reply:

Me: Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude.

His response was immediate.

Nick 💜 : Of course, you’re not intruding! Nate’s visiting from Boston, and Madi’s coming too. It’ll be a good time.

Seeing that Nate and Madi would be there made me feel a little more at ease. It wasn’t just going to be me and the guys, so there wouldn’t be any weirdness or pressure. Still, the thought of seeing Matt again had my heart racing. I wasn’t sure how it would feel being around him tonight.

Me: Okay, sounds fun!

Nick 💜: Great! We’ll swing by and pick you up in about 30. See you soon!

I set my phone down, taking a deep breath to calm my nerves. This was just a casual night out with friends, no big deal. But the potential thought that I’d see Matt again had my mind racing with thoughts I couldn’t quite push away. Shaking my head, I decided to focus on getting ready instead of overthinking.

I pulled open my closet and sifted through my clothes, trying to find something that was cute but casual enough for Top Golf. I settled on a cropped tank top with a flannel shirt layered over it. I paired it with my favorite jeans and some comfy sneakers. After giving myself a look over in the mirror, I decided to put a little extra effort into my hair and makeup. Maybe it was silly, but I wanted to feel confident tonight.

I was just finishing up when my phone buzzed again, this time with a message from Nick letting me know they were outside. I grabbed my bag, gave my reflection a quick nod of approval, and headed out the door. The nervous energy in my chest made me feel ridiculous, but I couldn’t shake it.

As I walked outside, I spotted a familiar car waiting at the curb. Matt’s car. My breath hitched for a moment. I could see Matt in the driver’s seat, Chris up front with him. I walked up to the car trying to not make direct eye contact with anyone. Nick slid open the back door and flashed me a welcoming grin.

“Hey girl! Hop in,” he said, scooting over to make room for me.

I climbed into the car, trying to keep my cool as I greeted everyone. “Hey guys!”

Matt glanced back at me through the rearview mirror, his expression softening as our eyes met. No words were exchanged, we just gave each other a half smile, the kind that made time feel like it slowed down. I returned the smile, feeling a warmth in my chest that made me even more nervous.

“Hey, I’m Madi” said the girl sitting in the third row, offering me a friendly wave.

“And I’m Nate” added the guy next to her, a tall guy with a laid back vibe. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too!” I said, glad to finally meet the people I’d heard about from Nick.

The drive to Top Golf was surprisingly quick. Everyone was in high spirits, chatting and laughing, and I found myself relaxing as the conversation flowed easily. We unloaded from the car once we arrived, and Matt, being the gentleman he was, swung open the door on my side. Our eyes met again as I stepped out, and we exchanged another one of those small, lingering smiles.

“Thanks” I said softly, feeling a flutter in my stomach.

“No problem,” Matt replied, his voice low and easygoing. The moment was brief, but it left me feeling strangely content.

As we all walked into the building, I found myself sticking close to Nick, who was happily chatting about how excited he was to see Nate again, and Matt stood on the other side of me, silent. “I’ve never done this before,” I admitted to him as we waited at the reception desk. “I’m looking forward to seeing what it’s all about.”

Nick gave me a reassuring grin. “You’ll love it. It’s a good time, especially with this crew.”

We got our bay assignment from the receptionist and made our way up to the second floor. The place was electric with energy, people laughing, music playing, and the satisfying whack of golf balls being hit. We reached our booth, which had a great view of the range, and Matt immediately took charge of inputting all of our names into the machine.

I stood back, taking it all in. The setup was way cooler than I’d imagined, with all these targets spread out across the field in different colors. “So, what’s the deal with all the rings out there?” I asked out loud, walking past Matt to get closer to the yellow line on the ground to get a better look.

Matt joined me, leaning in slightly as he explained. “Each ring gives you a different amount of points. The farther away it is and the closer you get to the center, the more points you score.”

I turned to him, genuinely surprised. “Wait, so there’s actually an aim to this? All this time I thought you were just hitting golf balls as stress relief.”

Matt let out a laugh, the sound making me smile. “Yeah, it’s a little more than that. But it’s fun either way.”

Chris was up first, so Matt and I moved out of his way, still chatting. He pointed out the different clubs sitting in the box beside us.

“So, these are your options,” he said, picking up a driver that was easily as tall as me. “This one’s a driver. Good for getting the ball as far out as possible.”

I eyed the club, tilting my head. “That thing’s huge. I don’t think I can even hold that properly. You’re sure I won’t just end up swinging and missing completely?”

Matt grinned, the playful glint in his eyes making me relax a little more. “It’s all in the technique. But if you think it’s too much, there are shorter ones too.” He handed me a smaller club, our fingers brushing briefly. “This one might be more your speed.”

I took the club, testing the weight of it in my hands. “Okay, this feels better. I can actually manage this one.”

“Good choice.” Matt said, his tone teasing as he picked up another club for himself. “But remember, it’s not just about the length. It’s how you use it.”

I rolled my eyes, laughing at his playful manner. “Right. I’ll keep that in mind, golf pro.” I blushed slightly, was he flirting with me? No he didn’t mean it like that.

He chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that way that made it impossible not to smile back. “I’ll show you some tips when it’s your turn.”

“Thanks, I’ll need them,” I admitted, feeling more comfortable around him than I had all night.

We all watched as Chris took his first swing, sending the ball flying towards one of the targets. Everyone cheered, and I found myself getting more excited to take my turn.

As I stood there with Matt, bantering back and forth about the clubs, I realized that maybe tonight wasn’t going to be as nerve wrecking as I’d thought. We were just a group of friends having fun, and Matt’s easygoing nature was making it hard to feel anything but relaxed. He was one of those people I instantly felt comfortable around.

When I looked up at the screen to check whose turn it was, I noticed something that made my heart skip a beat. Instead of my full name, the screen showed my nickname, one that only my closest friends used. My face flushed as I realized Matt must have been the one who put it in like that. It was a small gesture, but it made me feel warm inside.

Feeling a mix of anticipation and nerves, I stepped up to the mark and placed the golf ball on the tee. I took a deep breath, trying to channel the confidence Matt had given me earlier, and swung the club. 

But instead of sailing out into the field, the ball shot straight into the netting below me. I froze in place, wide eyed and embarrassed as laughter erupted behind me. Turning around, I caught their amused faces and couldn’t help but laugh at myself too.

“You’re hitting the ball like it’s mini golf!” Matt called out, his voice full of laughter. His teasing was light hearted, and I could tell he wasn’t trying to make me feel bad.

“I’m scared to swing it properly!” I confessed, still laughing as I turned back to face him.

Matt shook his head, still chuckling as he made his way over to me. “Here, let me help you.”

My heart skipped again as he came closer, standing directly behind me. The next thing I knew, Matt was wrapping his arms around mine, placing his hands on top of mine on the club. His touch was gentle but firm, guiding me into the right position. I could feel his breath on the back of my neck, and suddenly, we were practically spooning while standing up. My heart raced in my chest, beating so loud I was sure he could hear it.

“Just relax,” Matt said softly, his voice close to my ear. We swung the club back together, and in one smooth motion, he guided the swing, sending the ball flying down to the bottom of the field. I watched it soar, feeling a rush of excitement at how far it went.

“Do you feel better about it now?” Matt asked, his voice still low, sending a pleasant shiver down my spine.

“Yeah, it’s a little less scary now,” I admitted, smiling up at him as he stepped back.

With my newfound confidence, I picked up another golf ball and placed it on the tee. Matt walked back to his seat, and I focused on the ball, trying to replicate what Matt had shown me. I took the same stance, swung the club the same way, and to my amazement, the ball flew straight to the furthest ring.

Everyone cheered in unison, and I couldn’t help the grin that spread across my face. “That’s the girl!” I heard Matt yell from behind me, his voice full of encouragement. My cheeks flushed at his praise, but I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face.

I took my last two turns, each time sending the ball further than the last. Every time I hit a good shot, the group cheered, and Matt’s voice always seemed to stand out above the rest. After my final shot, I put the club back in its slot and turned around to see Matt standing there with a big grin. He held up both his hands, and I gave him a double high five, our palms smacking together in a satisfying way.

We both sat down, still buzzing from the game. Matt and I started chatting, the conversation flowing easily between us. It felt good, natural, like we’d been friends forever. Before I knew it, the hour was up, and the game was over.

Nate won by a country mile, with Chris and Matt tying for second. I won’t mention where the rest of us ended up, but let’s just say it was clear who the pros were in this group.

‘Time to cough that 100 bucks up Matt.’ Nate teased.

As we all started gathering our things, Chris groaned. “Ugh, I’m not ready to go home yet. Can we do something else?”

“We could all go for a walk on the beach?” Nate suggested, his tone casual, but the idea sounded perfect to me.

Nick lit up at the suggestion. “Fucking brilliant idea, Nate.”

Matt looked over at me, almost as if he was checking to see if I’d be up for it. Our eyes met, and I gave him a reassuring smile. “The beach sounds nice. I love the beach at night.”

With that, the plan was set. We all piled back into Matt’s car, the mood even more relaxed and happy than before. I slid into the back seat next to Nick again, feeling the cool night air on my face as we drove toward the beach.

It had been a fun night so far, but something told me that the best part was still to come.

a/n : i wasn't going to post this until sunday but here you goooooo (but now you have to wait until sunday for the next part lol)

taglist : @muwapsturniolo @anitahunt @sturnfannn @jayde510 @chrissfavhoe @babyalliah-777 @v33angel @urmom69lol @willowrites @ribread03 @2muchofaslvt @sturnsaver @sleepysturniolo @jcsturniolo11 @jessie-essie @hoeforchrizz @mynbbys @sturniolopanini @mattsturnxoxo @delicatechrry @t77te @sturnsyaper69 @hotdismylife @maggot3647 @ivysturnss @noplaceissafeanymore @mattssgf @yourfavsturniologirl @maethem0nth @sillyponygrl @mattyblover07 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @dominicfikeenthusiast @mattsfavbigtitties @ncm9696

[imtherain]

I Wish I Could Tell You I Love You

Welp, I was supposed to be doing homework and got caught in some feelings, so this happened. Sorry it's not the sex pollen fic, but I swear it's still coming (hah)

loganxreader

word count: 2k and I didn't really edit it/reread it so suffer

Warning? it got away from me so my original plot shifted. I used "you" as the pronouns this time. You have unspecified powers and self esteem issues, Logan is sick of your shit but Tired about it. Takes place during "logan is a teacher at the mansion" times, vaguely angst with a happy ending I guess. idk why all my Logan fics are sad/sad adjacent

[Masterlist]

[More Logan Angst] (Forced Closeness)

[More Logan but make it not angsty] (Why We Wake)

[Logan Masterlist]

Here you go

“Oh, hey, Logan,” You said as you stumbled upon him, sitting in one of the lounge rooms. You had come looking for somewhere quiet to read that wasn’t your bedroom. Why he was sitting there in the dark, you didn’t know.

He looked up at you and it seemed to take him a few seconds to figure out who you were.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Recognition finally sparked behind his eyes. You were glad you had only turned on the two small lamps in the room and nothing brighter. It was the time of day for soft light, ambient warmth to sit with.

“Want me to leave?” You offered, not really sure what was going on. Plus, you and Logan didn’t find yourselves alone very often and you were worried if you stayed, you’d say something stupid.

“No, ‘s fine,” Logan said. He looked you over, noticed you had your fancy little ereader (that he may or may not have put under the staff tree marked ‘from Santa’ for you). He noticed you were dressed way down, far more casually than you normally did in ‘public’. You were simply wearing pajama pants and a cozy top. Normally, you tried to wear ‘real clothes’ if you ever found yourself somewhere kids could potentially see you. Yet here you were, soft cotton, no jewelry or makeup or anything else. If he was a speculating man, he probably would speculate that you were wearing a soft bra underneath for some semblance of decency, but it wasn’t the one you’d been wearing earlier when he’d seen you at the staff meeting.

“Why were you sitting here in the dark?” You attempted to tease Logan. A smirk almost fought its way to his lips.

“I was just sitting here and then it got dark, hadn’t bothered to get up yet,” He explained. He stretched then, as if he just remembered he hadn’t moved at all in a long time.

You watched the way he flexed as his arms went over his head and his eyes closed with that relief that was specific to a good stretch. You hoped he didn’t catch the way your cheeks were warm when you saw his shirt ride up over his abs.

It was the age old story. You had worked at the mansion for a while now, Logan had been here longer. He was always somehow himself, even when he was getting badgered by the kids, or when Scott got on his nerves. You adored that about him, he was always entirely himself. Even if at first, you and he really hadn’t talked much, apart from pleasantries. But time passed and suddenly he shot you winks when he caught your eye from across the hall, he made sure there was a seat for you near him at dinner, he always asked you about your day, and remembered your birthday…

“You good though?” You asked. Something about how Logan seemed to reanimate when you entered the room made you worry.

“Peachy,” Logan said. “What about you? It’s pretty late for you to be wandering the halls,” Your ears got warm at the idea that he knew your schedule because he cared about you. But of course he cared about you, he was your friend. Plus, he liked to keep track of people coming and going. It didn’t mean anything.

“Yeah, I was feeling a little cooped up in my room, so I decided to find a nice little place to read until the feeling went away,” You told him. Logan hummed. “I even put a bra back on, can you believe it?” You chuckled at your own joke. Logan also knew that you refused to run around in what you lovingly called ‘a state of undress’.

“I mean, you didn’t have to do that,” Logan managed a smirk this time.

“I wasn’t about to run around the mansion with my titties flapping in the breeze,” You said before you could think about what you were saying. Logan chuckled at that.

“Is that your mutant power? Magic tits?” He asked. It had been a long standing joke that you didn’t tell Logan what your powers were.

“I mean, every baby/toddler/child I've ever cuddled falls asleep on them, so maybe,” You moved to sit in the armchair next to his. The chairs were angled together so you could still chat. You folded one leg under you and fiddled with the case on your ereader. 

“I could use some of that kind of magic,” Logan mused.

“Why? You’ve got a baby I don’t know about?” You challenged him. He looked at you for a long moment before he shrugged.

“Maybe I do,” 

“I bet Scott’s the dad,” You shot back and Logan actually snorted at that.

“You’re not funny,” 

“Your snort begs to differ,” Sometimes it was easy to be near him. Easy to simply exist as two things with beating hearts and stories they didn’t want to tell. Easy to be friends.

“I have trouble sleeping,” Logan admitted. “That’s what I’d use your magic for,” Something warm in his eyes found its way into your chest and made it hard to breathe.

Just the idea that he’d think about you in anything close to a sexual manner seemed absurd. There was no way you were his type, if your past experiences were to be believed, you were no one’s type. Anyone who had ever tried to express romantic interest, not that there had been many, gave up on the idea within a month. Most never asked for a second date.

Most never bothered with it in the first place.

“If that was my mutation, which it isn’t, I could start a whole business, don’t you think?” You try to keep the joke going, enjoying the moment too much to let it pass.

“A business? Like you’d go around and let people fall asleep on your tits?” Logan scoffed at the idea as if it offended him.

“Sure, why not. I wouldn’t have to be naked or anything, and I’d choose my clientele very carefully. If you play your cards right, I could even hire you as my like… bouncer. In case anyone got any bright ideas. I’d give you… 10%?” 

“I’d want more than that,” 

“I’m not going higher than 15,” I smirked. Logan looked for a moment like he was going to roll his eyes, but all at once the mirth faded and he looked straight ahead instead. He sighed like he was trying to deflate the tractor tire in his chest at the thought of you selling yourself at all, even if it was just some stupid joke.

“Too bad that’s not your mutation then, huh?” His voice was gruff and you settled into your chair, feeling admonished.

You were sure Logan would get up and leave shortly after, he often did when the conversation around him died. But for some reason, he just stayed there, staring at the wall that made up the space of the two large windows that overlooked part of the garden. It was a beautiful night, summer not quite gone, fall not quite cold. 

But here Logan was, just stared at the wallpaper instead.

“You sure you’re ok, Logan?” You ask. You’d reread the same page three times, worrying too much about him to comprehend the story.

“Hmm?” Logan hummed. “Yeah, ‘m fine,” 

“Are you falling asleep with your eyes open?” You pressed, trying to sound like you weren’t worried.

“Come here for a minute,” His face turned to you and it almost looked like he was staring through you. Only, somehow, he was looking at you too. Like maybe he wanted to look into your head and figure out what he needed to say to make you understand. “Please,” He extended his hand to you and, while you weren’t sure exactly what it was in his voice that drew you in, you let it bring you close enough to take his hand. 

He easily pulled you from your chair and into his lap, much to your chagrin. 

“Logan!” You tried to chide him, but at the same time, it felt nice to be close to him.

“Just,” You felt him sigh as he gave into whatever demons were plaguing him. “Just let me hold you for a minute, would you?” Logan laid his forehead on your shoulder, his arms closed around you, holding you to him.

“Ok,” You whispered into his hair. Your arms folded around his neck, one hand coming up to cradle the back of his head. It felt natural to sink your fingers into his hair and scratch gently at his scalp.

Part of you wanted to ask what this was, what it meant. But you were too afraid to break the moment. Too afraid to hear him say it meant nothing at all.

But, as all things must, the moment ended anyway. No matter how much you wanted it to last and last and last.

Logan leaned back against the plush of the chair so he could look up at you. There was a soft smile on his face, like he’d finally seen the sunset he’d been waiting for. You blushed under his scrutiny.

“What?” You chuckle nervously.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” Was his reply and you shook your head, knowing he didn’t really mean it. Why would he? How could he? You knew what you looked like.

“Stop it,” You were about to make some comment about how he wouldn’t be stupid or blind enough to mean that when you felt his hand move from your side to your cheek. The action paused whatever joke you were aiming to hide behind.

“No, you stop,” Logan said, almost sounding angry. But his hand on your face was gentle. “Everytime I try to love you, you shut me out, and yet you still stay here and let me do it… why?” 

“It’s easier to make jokes,” You said before you could stop yourself. “I mean, we’re friends, and you tease me sometimes, and…” Every excuse you normally told yourself, every way you’d phrased ‘of course he doesn’t want to love you’ to hurt yourself with, every joke you’d made to keep him at arms length, suddenly crumbled under the realization of what he’d said. 

“And?” Logan pressed, his hand returning to your thigh to mirror the other. You couldn’t look him in the eye, even sitting on his lap, his hands both rubbing soothing circles on your plush thighs, you weren’t sure you could face the real elephant in the room.

But something told you to face it anyway.

“And… I don’t know how to tell you I love you,” your voice was small in the dimly lit room. It wasn’t hard to pretend there was no one and nothing outside of that one old armchair you were both sharing. “I wish I did, but I just… don’t,” You added lamely. Your eyes darted up to his long enough to catch the way his entire face softened at your confession. 

“Sweetheart,” Logan’s voice was almost a moan. When you only stared at him, experiencing the horror of being perceived, he chuckled. “I want to kiss you now,” 

“You do?” You wanted to kick yourself in the head for even asking.

“Mhmm,” His hands tugged you closer, digging into the meat of your thighs just enough. You just nodded, knowing if you opened your mouth something else lame would fall out. With a smile, Logan closed the small distance between you and covered your mouth with his.

As your arms closed around him again, and the kiss deepened, you realized it didn’t really matter if you knew how to tell him you loved him. Because you could show him. In the way you teased him, in the way that you’d hold his hand after breakfast tomorrow, in the way that your face would always get warm when he looked at you too long.

In the way that you kissed him right here and right now and every day going forward if you could.

And he may have looked at you like you were the sunset he’d longed for, but the sun only ever sets so that it can rise again tomorrow. So you could always show him how much you loved him again tomorrow.

[Masterlist]

[Logan Masterlist]

Likes/comments/reblogs directly correlate to how much fanfiction/fanart you see ;)

[chocmoon-latte]

"Hancock has no regrets about becoming a ghoul"??

It baffles me when some people think Hancock has zero regrets about becoming a ghoul. Absolutely none at all apparently. Like yeah, he plays it up when you first meet him before he's a companion, but let's be real he plays up pretty much everything in regards to the whole "sexy king of the zombies" image he projects.

It takes travelling with you away from Goodneighbor to give him some time to be introspective for him to finally realize that him becoming a ghoul was just another escape route from himself again. He's got several lines of dialogue that literally reiterate this. It's a key point of his character:

Hell, running from myself is what made me into… into a damn Ghoul.

Well, I mean, I didn't always look this good. The drug that did this to me, that made me a Ghoul, I knew what it was going to do.

I just couldn't stand looking at the bastard I saw in the mirror anymore.

The coward who'd let all those Ghouls from Diamond City die. Who was too scared to protect his fellow drifters from Vic and his boys.

If I took it, I'd never have to look at him again. I could put that all behind me. I'd be free. Didn't seem like a choice at all. Turns out it was just me running from somethin' else in my life.

I mean, after reaching max affinity with you, he realizes that maybe it wasn't such a bad thing after all (because he's finally got an honest friend he can be open with now). He now feels comfortable where he is - but to imply that he doesn't have at least the tiniest amount of regret? Heck, if you go onto romance him (or attempt to), he stops referring to himself as handsome and literally starts calling himself ugly, which naturally goes entirely against the image he projects:

Why don't we just agree to keep it friendly for now or till they find a cure for ugly? Heh.

You don't want to wake up to this mug every morning. Never wish that on anyone I cared for.

You sure you want to be stuck with this ugly mug?

(You could even say he implies it beforehand with another line of dialogue elsewhere in-game when he says "I'd be mad too if I was that ugly." But that's a stretch I guess.)

Combine that with the fact that 99% of ghouls don’t choose to become ghouls. Hancock did. But he didn't do it for a fun experience. He was already in a bad place when he became a ghoul. He didn't turn to be cool and edgy like he pretended he did when first getting to know him.

He lost his appearance, any connections to his old identity and old friends/people he might’ve been associated with (for better or worse), and in return gained hostility from bigots towards him for merely existing, from an overwhelming majority of the Commonwealth population that hates ghouls. There's the Institute and Brotherhood who want to kill anyone like him on top of that. Plenty of people out there who think he and other ghouls are monsters for just being alive.

Not only that, but something which adds onto this is the fact that he's a client of the Memory Den, and they're very selective with their customers. And what's the whole point of the Memory Den? Reliving past memories. Irma's terminal entry about Hancock, as well as the other two ghoul clients Kent and Daisy, all imply the memories they go back to relive are primarily from their human days. (The one on Hancock straight up says "if you thought he was handsome and dangerous now, you should've seen him before he turned ghoul.")

I genuinely refuse to believe that Hancock has never had any regret whatsoever about becoming a ghoul. The man who's spent a decent chunk of his life running from his own problems instead of confronting them, has NO regrets about taking a drug that alters his entire being and functionality on a biological level and will force him to outlive everyone he knows? This man is FULL of regrets!

[roosterforme]

Right Girl, Wrong Time Part 5 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: You do your best not to let Phoebe and Jeff derail how perfect your weekend with Bradley has been. After dinner, the two of you start asking what comes next, and you take him to a spot on campus he has dreamed about but never seen before.

Warnings: Smut, fluff, swears, and angst

Length: 4900 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (former fuckboy college student Bradley)

This is a sequel to accompany my story Old Habits Die Hard (you'll want to read that one first)!

Check my profile for my masterlist

You should have known the two of them would be here to ruin your perfect night with Bradley. Your perfect weekend, really. But it was nearly impossible for you to think back on your time with Bradley ten years ago without Jeff and Phoebe popping up.

You tilted your face to look up at Bradley again, but his eyes were still focused across the room. "It's okay, Beer Boy. Let's get a drink."

Bradley turned toward you and nodded, and you ordered two beers from the bartender and handed him one. He laced his fingers through yours and let you guide him back toward the table where you had set down your bag. 

"Sorry. I just haven't seen or talked to either of them since I left for Rhode Island. Crazy."

"I wish we didn't have to see them now, either," you said, glancing over to their table again. You kissed Bradley's lips and whispered, "I will physically fight Phoebe if she tries to touch you."

Bradley laughed at that, and you smiled too. "You always were a little scrappy," he said. "But I don't think either of them could hurt me now, even if they wanted to. Which I certainly hope they don't."

"They better not."

You couldn't stop stealing glances at them though. Jeff looked exhausted, and he was losing his hair. Phoebe still looked pretty enough, you supposed, but she appeared to be with her husband who was plainly ignoring her and staring at his phone. And it looked like her hair was brittle and crispy from dying it several shades lighter than it used to be. 

Both of them looked miserable. Maybe they should have married each other. 

"Bradshaw!" came a booming voice, and you watched Bradley stand and accept a hug from Tyson.

"Hey, man. It's been awhile," Bradley said as you stood up as well. "Is your wife here?" 

You watched Tyson's eyes grow to the size of saucers, and Bradley casually reached for your hand. 

"No," Tyson said, still looking at you in surprise. "She's pregnant again and not feeling well. Decided not to come at the last minute." He smiled softly at you before glaring at Bradley. "Hey, why didn't you tell me you two were together again?"

Bradley cleared his throat awkwardly. "Well, we're not-"

"It's recent," you blurted out, earning a surprised look from Bradley. "It's good to see you, Ty."

"Yeah.... damn. This is such a flashback!" he said. "Bradley moped for months after you dumped him. But I guess you know all about that now."

You squeezed Bradley's hand tighter, but he was still looking at you like he wasn't sure what was going on.

"I can assure you that I also moped for months," you told Tyson, letting out a shaky breath. "You guys chat, I see someone else I know."

There was in fact nobody else that you recognized, but you needed a moment to yourself. Why did you insinuate that you and Bradley were together again? You weren't together. If he wanted you in that way, he would have told you where he lived. He'd had a full day to do so. And now he was flying home in the morning. 

You felt like leaving before you could start crying. You were going to ruin what was left of your time with him if you couldn't accept this for what it was: one perfect reunion weekend with your first love.

"I thought that was you."

You spun around and almost bumped into Jeff. He was staring at your cleavage as you moved your beer bottle in front of yourself to try to block his view. 

"Hi," you managed to say, but you couldn't bring yourself to smile like he was.

"You look great."

Since the same could not be said about him, you just kind of shrugged. "Thanks."

"I can't believe you're still with Bradshaw."

You took a deep breath. "He's wonderful," you managed to say. "What are you doing these days?"

"Oh, selling used cars," he mumbled. "You?"

Your eyebrows shot up. He had the same math undergraduate degree as you. "I work here. Teaching. Mostly computational physics and linear algebra, but I have a calculus lecture as well."

"Wow," he said, looking both annoyed and impressed. 

"Yeah. Looking at some other schools for tenure positions for the fall."

"Must be nice," he mumbled.

You nodded and looked him square in the eyes. "I worked really hard."

When you noticed Jeff's eyes looking over your shoulder, you felt a warm hand on your lower back. 

"Hey, Sugar," Bradley whispered in your ear, and you looked up at him over your shoulder.

"Hi, Beer Boy," you whispered back, and without a single glance in Jeff's direction, Bradley guided you back to your table, leaving Jeff gaping at the two of you.

"You okay?" he asked, pulling out your chair as dinner was about to be served.

"Of course. You didn't want to talk to your old buddy Jeff?"

Bradley rolled his eyes. "Fuck no. Figured you didn't really want to either." 

You laughed and took his hand as he sat down. "You figured right."

Bradley raised your fingers to his lips and kissed them before reaching for the leg of your chair and pulling you closer to him. When your graduating class president and the dean of admission gave their speeches, Bradley wrapped his arm around you, and your head came to rest against his shoulder. Of course his fingers found your tattoo, blindly tracing along your skin there. 

Your eyes found his when he smiled down at you. His impossibly handsome face and his warm, brown eyes and his perfect lips. How had you managed to go ten years without him? You reached up, stroking his mustache with your thumb until he was almost laughing. 

You whispered, "Missed you," and then he was no longer smiling. He was looking at you intently when suddenly everyone was applauding for the finished speeches, and the waitstaff started rushing around with plates of salad. 

So you ate your dinner with your thigh pressed up against Bradley's, sharing food off of each other's plates. You laughed at the throwback music the band was playing, and Bradley eventually went to get you both more beer. 

Everything was comfortable in a way that you didn't know you were craving until you were experiencing it. 

"Do you want to dance?" Bradley asked you as the band started up again and several people made their way to the center of the room. 

"Yes," you replied, and he pulled you to your feet. He guided your arm over his shoulder with a smile and wrapped his hands around your waist. You traced his faded scars with your fingers while he sang along to the song. 

"You have the best singing voice," you told him, your smile growing wide. "I forgot just how much I loved listening to it."

"Think they know any Grateful Dead?" he asked. "That was my favorite to sing to you."

"Remember when you made me watch like eighty four hours of their concert footage?"

Bradley rolled his eyes and pulled you fully against him. "It was only like a fifteen hour DVD, Sugar. And we didn't even make it all the way through."

You licked your lips. "You're right. We found a different way to occupy our time."

Bradley's face was earnest and open, but there was still a smile dancing along his lips. "We sure did that a lot, huh?" 

You nodded and leaned up to kiss him before you said, "We've been doing it a lot since yesterday, too. This is one hell of a reunion weekend."

You watched the long scars on Bradley's neck as he swallowed. "Is that it though? Is this just for the weekend?" His eyes were searching your face intently. 

The idea of ending things tomorrow morning was too much for you to take, but when you spoke your voice was tiny and unsure. "Do you want more?"

Bradley's eyes drifted closed and his hands slid up your back, holding you in place as his dancing slowed. Your heart was pounding, and you could feel his racing pulse beneath your fingers on his neck. After a pause, he was looking intently at you again. 

"I wanted more ten years ago, Sugar."

The truth of his words stung you a bit. You'd wanted more, too. But you had also wanted him to get a chance to fulfill all of his other wishes and dreams, without making him feel tethered to you while you were so far away. 

"But what about now?" you asked. Then you took a deep breath and forced yourself to add, "Why didn't you tell me you live in San Diego?" Your voice broke on the last words, and you could see the look of panic in Bradley's eyes.

"How did you know that?"

You tried to pull out of his grasp as you swiped at the tears welling in your eyes. "I saw your luggage tag. In the hotel room. You live in San Diego, and you weren't even going to tell me, were you?"

When you squirmed away, trying to put some space between you, he held you tight. "No. I wasn't going to tell you. Not yet."

"Why not?" you asked, your voice barely audible over the sound of the band. "You don't want me now."

"That's not it!" he insisted loudly. "Sugar. Come on, baby. That's not it."

You just shrugged helplessly and looked around the room, the colorful lights obscured by your tears. "What is it then?" you asked, not meeting his eyes. 

He was stroking your cheek now, and although you tried your best not to, you could feel yourself melting into his touch. "Please look at me." You met his eyes and sniffed, and he kissed you softly, reverently, and you let him. "You're so smart, Sugar. And you work so hard." You watched him struggle with his words as so many other couples danced around you. "And I can't be responsible for derailing your career if Miami is a better choice for you. I can't do that."

"Bradley."

But he just shook his head. "No. You need to visit both schools. You need to remove me from this equation."

"But Bradley!"

"Sugar, you let me do what I needed to do ten years ago. It nearly fucking killed me at first, but I never blamed you for what you did. You kept me safe. And made sure I knew how you felt about me first. And you let me make my decisions for myself and not because I was focusing all my energy on you. It hurts me to say it, but thank you. And now you need to do the same thing for yourself."

You sucked in a deep breath. "And what if I choose San Diego? What if that's the right choice for me? Where does that leave us?"

Bradley smashed his lips against yours and you wrapped your arms around his neck once again. His kiss was demanding, but it ended as soon as it began. "Ask me that again after you make your decision. Either way, whatever your decision is, ask me again, okay?"

You nodded at him. 

"And please forget about my luggage tag and my address and promise me you'll visit both schools."

"I will, Beer Boy. I promise."

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

Bradley held you tight in the middle of the dance floor, cradling your head against his chest and singing you another song. He was so close, once again, to telling you he loved you. He wanted you to know it, was pretty sure you already did, but he was too scared.

More than anything, he wanted you to choose San Diego. Because it was the right fit for you. Not because he was there. But he'd be lying to himself if he didn't want to play a part in your future plans. 

"Beer Boy?" you finally asked him. 

"Yeah, Sugar?"

You were smiling again. You seemed to be more at ease now that you got the information about his address off your chest. 

"Can we go? This is nice and all, but I just want to be with you. Alone."

"Let's go," he replied without hesitation. "Should I call an Uber?"

You nodded as he reached for his phone, and he followed you willingly to grab your purse. "I'm going to run to the restroom. Meet me in the lobby?" you asked. 

Bradley kissed your cheek. "Yep. Ride will be here in nine minutes."

You disappeared through the crowd, and Bradley made his way toward the lobby at a slower pace. He opened up the airline app when it prompted him to check in for his flight, but instead he started to scroll to see if there were any seats available on a later flight. He really needed to be back in San Diego tomorrow, but if he could stay with you for just a little bit longer....

"Bradley?"

He thought he was alone in the lobby. He knew that voice. He spun around and came face to face with Phoebe.

"Hi," he managed. "Phoebe."

"Wow," she sighed. "You look great. Even better than you did ten years ago."

"Yeah? Thanks." He swallowed, his throat tight. It was hard to even look at her, even after all this time. This woman had fed into and also stunted his self esteem for nearly four years of his life. 

"Your scars healed nicely."

"Oh," he muttered, brow furrowed.

"You know I didn't mean it that way, Bradley," she said quickly, taking another step into his personal space. "They never bothered me before."

He ran one hand down along his face. "I'm not doing this with you, Phoebe. I truly hope you've been well, but I'm not doing this."

Bradley started to walk away, but she reached out and stopped him with her hand on his chest. 

"I owe you an apology."

He froze and looked down at her in shock. 

She laughed bitterly. "I never could handle the rejection you gave me. But seeing you here with her? Still? My god, I feel sicker than ever over what I put you through. Sorry."

Bradley felt her patting his chest before she started to withdraw her hand. He stood completely still and then nodded and whispered, "Thank you."

He could hear your heels on the floor and sense your presence before he saw you, but instantly you were at his side, linking your arm through his.

You made a show of running your thumb along his mustache before tilting his head down and kissing him, and he let you do it. "Hi, Sugar," he whispered when you released his lips. 

Bradley watched you turn toward a bitter looking Phoebe and say, "Oh. You'll have to excuse us. We were just leaving." Then you tugged on Bradley's arm and led him toward the exit. "I saw her touch you," you whispered. "I didn't like that."

"No? What are you going to do about it, Sugar?"

You just smirked as he pointed out the car that had arrived to pick you up. "I'm going to take us on a little detour. That's what I'm going to do about it."

He opened the car door for you, and you gave a different address to the driver while you scooted across the back seat so Bradley could climb in as well.

"Where are we going, Sugar?" he whispered next to your ear before kissing you there. 

You were practically crawling into his lap when you said, "My office."

Bradley had pictured many times how you might look working in your very own office in academia. He figured all the college guys would be swarming your office hours to spend a little extra time basking in your presence. He also just knew you'd be a great teacher, one who graded everything farily. But getting to see your actual office? Mess around in it, perhaps?

He grabbed your chin and kissed you so hard you squeaked. But his phone started vibrating in his pocket against your leg. He yanked it out without breaking your kiss, and just wanted to silence it. 

"Oh, it's Nat," you whispered, pulling away from him and looking at the screen. 

Bradley grunted and quickly opened the text thread from one of the few people in his life who consistently talked to him on a daily basis.

Phoenix: How's your class reunion going? Haven't heard from you since yesterday morning!

When the car stopped at a traffic light, and Bradley looked at your face all lit up from the street lights, he put his arm around you. "Mind if I send her a picture?" he asked. 

You just smiled and said, "Okay, Beer Boy."

He snapped a few selfies of the two of you all cozy in the backseat, including one with your head resting on his shoulder and another one with your lips pressed to his cheek.

Quickly, he sent two of them back to Nat and then got his lips right back on yours. 

"Almost there," you whispered, pulling away briefly before licking Bradley's lips with the tip of your tongue. His black suit pants felt extremely tight at the moment the car pulled up to the curb in front of the building where Bradley used to walk you to your lab class. 

He helped you out of the car, and his phone started vibrating in his hand. 

Phoenix: OH MY GOD BRADLEY IS THAT SUGAR?

Phoenix: ANSWER ME RIGHT NOW.

Phoenix: IT'S HER. ISN'T IT? SHE IS STILL FUCKING BEAUTIFUL AND YOU LOOK SO HAPPY.

Phoenix: WHY AREN'T YOU WRITING BACK?

Phoenix: OH MY GOD, ARE YOU FUCKING? I AM SO SORRY! TEXT ME BACK LATER.

Bradley tossed one arm around your shoulders and let you read the screen along with him. You started cracking up. "Is it okay if I respond?" you asked, a huge smile on your face.

"Of course," Bradley replied, and he used the ID card you handed him to unlock the building, holding the door open for you to enter. 

"This way," you murmured with a soft laugh as Bradley followed you to the elevator bank, keeping his hand on the small of your back.

As you stepped into the elevator with him right behind you, he watched you send a message to Nat and then hand his phone back to him. He glanced at the screen.

You think I'm beautiful? Bradley was showing me a bunch of pictures, and I think you're stunning! I'm having the best weekend of my life, but I promise I'll return him to you in one piece. It's the least I can do after you've taken care of him all these years.

Bradley's heart was pounding in his ears as the elevator arrived on the eighth floor. "This is the best weekend of your life?" he asked as you laced your fingers through his and led him down the dimly lit hallway. 

"You know, it's not nice to read other people's conversations, Beer Boy," you said with a smirk as you used your ID card to unlock your office door. 

He looked at his phone again.

Phoenix: YOU CAN KEEP HIM! PLEASE KEEP HIM! I'LL SEND HIS FEEDING SCHEDULE AND HIS VACCINATION RECORDS.

Bradley put his phone away with a grin and let you lead him into your tiny office. Two walls were lined with shelves, one wall had a window with a view of the cafeteria, and your desk was right in the middle of the floor. Most of your things seemed to be packed in the cardboard boxes that were stacked up next to the door. 

"Well, this is my office. What do you think?" you asked, shrugging and spinning in a small circle. You looked perfect in your dress, with your tattoos and your mussed up hair. 

"I think...." he began, licking his lips as you planted your palms against his chest. "I think this is the best weekend of my life, too."

Your breathing was a little shallow as you looked up at him and nodded. "What are we supposed to do about it?" you whispered. 

Bradley kissed you softly. "You promised me."

You pulled him closer to you, your lips meeting his in a soft kiss. "I know," you murmured against his mouth, and soon he was tasting you, his tongue gently sweeping against yours. Your fingers scraped along the short hair at the back of his neck as you nibbled on his lips and gasped when he stroked your tattoos. 

Every little sensation, everything that was specifically you had him aching for more. There was no way he could be without you now. He didn't know what the hell he was supposed to do. 

You broke away from his kisses and pressed yourself against his erection. "I have an idea, Beer Boy. What's your Professor Sugar office fantasy?"

He groaned, a deep, needy sound from the very back of his throat. You were gasping in his arms, mouth agape before he even said anything. "We really gonna do that?" he asked you, his voice raspy and broken as you stared up at him with wide eyes. "Because I've been thinking about that for a very, very long time, Sugar."

Bradley eased his fingers along your bare shoulder and up your neck, digging them into the back of your head a little bit, forcing your eyes to remain on his. "Yes," you agreed, already looking like you were in a daze. "I sometimes think about you when I'm alone in here. So it only seems appropriate."

He kissed you hard until you were moaning into his mouth. He wanted you in every way imaginable, all the time. But right now he wanted it sweet and slow and impossibly hot as he showed you just what he thought about when you were on his mind and his dick was in his hand. 

He grabbed you by the hips and guided you backward until you met your desk. Then he spun you around and helped you grab onto the edge of your desk, listening to your hitching breaths and rubbing himself along your backside. "I need you to know," he whispered, pushing your hair away from your ear, "that I'll be thinking about this for the rest of my life."

"Bradley," you groaned as he kissed along the back of your neck, sucking on your sweet skin until you were bucking back against him. 

"Fuck." He reached around to the front of your dress, taking the fabric on either side of the slit and bunching it up in his hands. Then he slowly guided it up around your waist and held it tight with his left hand. "I'd love to fuck you like this, Doctor Sugar," he whispered, running his nose behind your ear. "But with the finesse and restraint I did not possess when I was a student."

"Oh my god, Bradley!" Your voice sounded lighter than air in this small room, your bodies only lit up by the exterior campus lights that filtered through the window. 

He looped one finger through the elastic of the tiny underwear you had on and started to yank it down over your hips, sucking in a harsh breath as you wiggled against him until they were sliding down your legs. Bradley watched the lace land on the tops of your high heels, and then he was unbuttoning and unzipping his pants with his right hand. He eased his pants and underwear down to his thighs and bent you a little bit at the waist with his large frame. 

"You're always soaking wet for me," he gasped as he reached around and slid his fingers against your slit. "You get like this for anyone else?"

"No!" you squeaked as he sunk two fingers inside you without any warning. 

"Just me? You'd get this wet if I was sitting in one of your classes, watching you teach? Soaking through your underwear, squeezing your thighs together in your short, little skirt?"

"Oh god, yes," you groaned, and he pumped his fingers in and out you hard, until you were practically screaming. 

When he slowed his pace again, stroking your clit, he told you, "I'd sit in your class and touch myself. I don't think I would be able to help it, Sugar." He held you firmly against him, pulling his fingers out and leaving you whining before coating his cock with your wetness. He nudged your legs apart with his knee and then guided himself to your entrance, your body welcoming him so sweetly as he bottomed out in one movement. 

Your head was tipped back, and he ran his slick fingers up your neck and between your parted lips. The feel of your tongue swirling along his fingertips and the vibrations of your moans had him shoving his fingers a little deeper. You moaned and whined as you cleaned his fingers while he fucked you at a steady pace. 

"What would I have to do to get an A in your class, Doctor Sugar?" You sucked on his fingers for another beat before he removed them from your mouth and grasped your chin instead. 

"I'd make you stay after class," you gasped. "Watch you touch yourself for me."

"Fuck, fuck!" Bradley growled, slamming into you harder, his left hand gripping your hip. He pulled you by your chin and the front of your neck, arching your back until you were whimpering, meeting his movements stroke for stroke. He could feel you fluttering around him, and he eased his big hand down over your breasts and your tummy until they met your clit. He gave you a sharp squeeze, and this time you did scream before he soothed you with his fingers. 

"I'm gonna cum," you cried, squeezing around him, but Bradley withdrew completely and spun you to face him. You looked up at him, shocked, and he pushed you back to sit on your desk, grabbing your thighs and thrusting into you again. 

You leaned back on both hands, eyes on his as your legs shook gently in his hands. Bradley leaned down and kissed you softly, and you smiled against his lips. He moved a little slower as you came for him, drawing out your orgasm and sucking on your neck as you chanted his name like a prayer. 

Then you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him snug against you as his thrusts grew shallow. "You gonna cum for me, Beer Boy? You gonna earn top marks? Be the teacher's pet?" you purred. And he kissed your mouth and your cheeks and your chin, memorizing the feel of your lips against his mustache as you whined. 

He filled you up, moving inside you until he was no longer dizzy with need. Bradley took your face gently in his hands, satisfied and so in love with you. 

"Sugar," he whispered, your body still intimately connected with his. "I l-"

There was a loud knock on the door. "Hello? It's Ted. From security."

"Oh shit," you hissed, sliding off the desk and shimmying your dress back down. You looked so alarmed, Bradley had to stifle his laughter as he zipped up his pants and straightened out the rest of his suit. Then he groaned when you turned on the overhead lights. 

"Uh, hang on, Ted!" you called, kicking your underwear loose from your shoes. Bradley bent and picked them up, shoving them into his pocket as you opened the door a few inches. "Hi, Ted!"

Bradley heard the security guard's voice. "Oh, it's you, professor! I heard a lot of noise, and I just wanted to make sure everything was okay."

"Everything is fine!"

There was a pause, and Bradley watched your shoulders tense up. "Are you alone?" Ted asked. "If you're not okay, I can help you."

You sighed deeply and tipped your head back before pushing the door open wide, revealing Bradley where he was leaning against your desk with both hands in his pockets. 

"Hey, Ted," he said with a smile, and he got to watch the much older man flush crimson as he looked back and forth between the two of you. "Everything is just fine in here."

You pressed your lips together and also nodded at Ted. 

"Right, okay, well. You have a great night, professor," he told you before tucking his radio back into his pocket and hustling away.

You turned to look at Bradley with your hand over your mouth, and Bradley started absolutely cracking up. "Sorry, Sugar, but Ted's never going to look at you the same way again."

You lightly hit his abs, and Bradley pulled you into his arms. "I guess it's a good thing I'm technically only working here for two more weeks," you groaned against his neck. "Poor Ted." Then you were laughing harder in his arms, and soon neither of you could stop. 

Eventually, Bradley tilted your smiling face up to look at him. "I'm going to miss you so much, Sugar."

Your smile wavered a bit. "Can you stay longer?" you asked softly. "A few more days?"

He just shook his head and stroked your lip. "I'm leaving for a six week deployment on Monday."

"Oh," you sighed so sadly that Bradley immediately wanted to tell you he could stay for another week. Another month, just to be with you. 

"Sorry, Sugar."

You took his hand in yours. "Then can we go back to my house? And snuggle?"

"Please."

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

Thanks for reading and loving these two! I just loved the texts with Phoenix! Beer Boy and Sugar have one more night together.... Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls.

PART 6

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[luvyeni]

p. bestfriendsdad!seunghan x fem bodied reader | warnings: | words: 0.7k ~ (735) 🫧ㆍ₊⊹

request: Hii can I request best friends dad seunghan smut??

“my dad is here”

You bit back a smile as you got out of the passengers seat of her car, walking to her front door. “but just ignore him.”

Normally had it been any of your other friends dad, you probably would’ve — but not mr.hong, he was different; his warm smile, his kind eyes and the fact the hottest 40 something year old man you’ve ever met in your life.

He was also great in bed — you would know that because he fucked you many times before.

“how was my bab

“how was my babygirls day?” he hugged his daughter tightly, she groaned pushing him away, you smiled. “dad im 22, we don’t need to do this everyday.” He frowned. “I just want to hug my daughter why can’t you just go with.” You laughed. “give your dad a hug, not many dads ask for hugs “

“thank you yn, this is why she’s the only one of your friends I like.” Your friend didn’t understand the double meaning that had; or did she notice the look he gave you. “are you two gonna be studying?” your friend grabbed your hand. “yeah, yn is also gonna be spending the night so make enough dinner for her.” He nodded. “got any favorites yn?” you shrugged. “anything is fine.”

After studying and messing around your friend decided to shower before dinner was ready. “I’ll only be about 20 minutes.” She said closing the door; but you were already out her bedroom door — making your way to the kitchen where you knew he’d be.

“what are the making?” you saw him smiling. “your favorite, it just got finished.” He said, turning the heat off. “my favorite?” he finally turned around facing you. “yup, why not?” he pouted, you walked over to him, wrapping your arms around him. “I missed you.” He pulled you into a kiss. “we only have 20 minutes.” You breathed.

He quickly lifted you up on the counter; you could feel his hard on pressed against your clothed heat. “lets hurry then.” He quickly pulled your panties down, lifting up your skirt up. “been so hard every since I saw you in this tiny skirt.” He freed himself his slacks, his cock hard and ready to fuck. “did you wear this me?” he rubbed your fold with his tip. “to get me all riled up?” he pushed into you. “sh-shit.”

He pressed his forehead against yours, moving his hips. “fu-fuck princess I missed your cunt.” He groaned. “been thinking about your pretty pussy since the last time I saw you.” you moaned out, he was always able to reduce your body to mush. “ha-harder.” You stuttered, he obeyed switching up his pace, you yelped as he roughly fucked into you. “my pretty slut, you love sneaking behind your friends back, hm?” he bucked up into you. “fuck you clenched around me, you like fucking your friends dad.”

“fuck yes!” you moaned; just as the door to the bathroom opened, he covered your mouth, coming close to your ear. “you don’t want her to catch us right?” he reached between your bodies, rubbing your clit, hissing as you clenched around him. “fu-fuck if you keep clenching around me im gonna cum.” He groaned.

He realized he didn’t have much time, moving his hips at a inhumane pace. “se-seunghan i-I’m gonna— go ahead and cum.” He said. “be a good girl and cum for me.” That was all you needed, before you were cumming. “that’s it -fuck fuck fuck- cum for me.

He quickly chased his high, wishing he had more time. “shit im gonna cum.” He grunted, stilling his hips as he shot his load into your waiting wombs. “feels so good.” He kissed your lips

He wanted to give you aftercare; clean you up and cuddle in bed, but you both know it couldn’t happen, especially since you heard your friends bedroom door open. “shit baby im sorry.” He pulled his pants up gave you your panties back, helping you put them back on. “come to my room later when she’s sleep.” He kissed your head, pulling away just before she came into the kitchen. “dinner ready?”

“oh?” your friend said as he sat out the food. “hey yn isn’t this your favorite?” she asked. “uh— what a coincidence.” Seunghan interrupted. “well then I hope it’s as good as you normally eat.” He smiled.

of course it would be, the first time you had it was when he made it for you.

©️LUVYENI

[goodlucksnez]

So after listening to Zen's Wav, I had a idea to continue. So I gathered some friends and we continued the story with a little nod to @instarsandcrime as well!

So enjoy the continuation!

Al//astor: @onetrickponi

Lu//cifer: @zensations35

V//ox: @goodlucksnez

See below for script!

Alastor: Ah! The man of the hour! Just the person I was hoping to encounter…Now then. Time for a little r̴̈e̷͋g̵͛i̷͊c̷̉ǐ̵d̷̃ë̴́

Lucifer: Oh no…*sneeze* Not you again. What is it this time?

Alastor:  As it turns out, sire, not only do you bestow hellish grace upon your subjects, but pestilence as well! ’Allergies.’ Hah! I should have known. 

Lucifer: Well if someone hadn’t insisted I come on their show with only two days notice!

Alastor: Aha-hA!  If someone would answer their phone more than once a month, your nibs–

*Lucifer sneezes*

Alastor: Well. Glad to see your smoky sternutations aren’t exclusive to my studio, at least. Goodness, I do hope this wallpaper is flame-resistant.*ṣ̶͐n̸̺͐ḙ̸̽e̸̲͂z̸̩͋i̷̠͐n̴̨̊g̸̩̿* Pardon.

Lucifer: Hey! Don’t bust out my lights! I’m working on an important project!

Alastor: And now no one has to see it! Pity. :)

*Voxtech Show Theme Plays*

Vox: Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the most electrifying news show in the multiverse! I’m your host, Vox,  and I’m here to deliver the latest headlines with a dash of charisma, a sprinkle of wit, and a whole lot of tea *clinking cup* *cup falls* 

Vox: *ignoring fallen cup* Tonight on our program we will go over the most recent broadcast from the King of Hell and the less important interviewer *cackle*

Vox: Ahh how good it feels in my studio! I must say our brand is perfection, it just won't do for anything Less. Than. That. *snigger*  

Vox: Unlike a certain old tyrant my studio is made for the highest of royalty. So if any princes or kings want a real experience, come down to Vees tower and I would love to give you a personalized tour from the Man in Charge. 

Alastor: *sneezing* Pompous, vicious little prick…

Lucifer: Ugh.. *sniff* I hate that guy…”Man in Charge”? And they call me prideful??

Vox: I mean really you just walk in, and it’s chaos. Papers everywhere, coffee stains on the desk, *laugh* it isn't even in a proper studio but an old water tower! Talk about tacky. Unprofessional, if you ask me. But here? Every cable is tucked away, every surface polished--

[Vox continues his spiel while Alastor sneezes]

Alastor: *sneezing* 

Vox:-- to a mirror sheen. We believe in excellence, not just in our content but in our environment, that that is what VoxTex is here to provide you. So, when you tune in to our show, rest assured, you’re getting the crème de la crème. Quality, class, and cleanliness–

Alastor: That isn’t even properly alliterative…

Lucifer: Are you kidding me? His place is a walking fire hazard! Or, not walking. Standing? But I know fire hazards! Man, I wish I could just…*sneezes*

Alastor: HaHAh!…Well, then I’m sure you will appreciate this next bit, Sire.

Vox: *sniffling* *sneezing* I must apologize, my dear viewers *sneezing*  but it seems that even the most prepared among us can be caught off guard. It appears I’m having a bit of a g̶͎͑-̵̓ͅg̵̪̑-̷̖͠G̴̥͒L̶̟̈I̷͈͑T̵̀͜C̸̣͝H̸̖͒—nothing serious, but we believe in safety first here at Vox industries.

*Vox continues sneezing throughout his spiel*

Vox: We’re all about transparency and this is as real as it gets. Fucking bitch! I’m going to step off for a moment to take care of this, and in the meantime, we’ll be ending today’s broadcast a tad earlier than scheduled. FuckI’mgonnafuckingkillhim--Our team is top-notch, and they’ll ensure everything is handled with the utmost professionalism. Thank you for your understanding. We’ll be back on air tomorrow, bright and shiny as ever, ready to bring you the stellar content you love. 

Vox: Cut it! That fucking bitch, I know this is his doing I’m gonna kill him!!

Alastor: *sneezing* *laughing* 

Lucifer: Hoh yeah! Highfive!

Alastor: I beg your pardon?

Lucifer: You…you just take your hand and…uhh…*high five sound*

Alastor: Mmm I suppose. But don’t make a habit out of this, sire.

Lucifer: Eheh…okay…

[garglyswoof]

the space we'll fill with time

For Come What May May 29th: Say the Quiet Parts Out Loud A conversation you don't think they'll ever have but wish they would. | What are some offscreen moments you wish you could see? I won't be around much tomorrow, so posting early.

“What was she like?” Karen’s question is soft as it breaks the comfortable quiet. Frank winces before realizing the reaction is just instinct - he's unbothered by the question. Not when it comes from her.

He turns the wince into a smile that stretches across his face as he remembers. “She was a ballbuster, that’s for sure. Didn’t take any shit from me. Made me understand what a real man needed to be, y’know?” He glances up at Karen where she sits, patient and interested. 

“The married guys in my unit would bitch and moan about taking care of their kids when they were on leave, or doing dishes or some shit. And y’know, sometimes that stuff settles into you, right? So I came home once, before Kandahar, and I started complaining about having to do laundry or something, and she let me have it.” Frank shakes his head, grin wide. “God damn my life flashed before my eyes she took me down so hard. She was just merciless,” he laughs.

Karen smiles. “Sounds like she could keep up with you.”

“Yeah. More than.” It’s quiet for a minute as they both sit with their own thoughts. Frank’s the first to break it.

“M’ not saying everything was sunshine and roses, no way," He shakes his head firmly. "We both had our faults. She had trouble letting the kids be independent, and I wanted them to grow up and help their mom out. ‘Specially because I wasn’t around. I guess that was a selfish ask.”

“I don’t think so. I mean I get both sides. They’re just different.”

His hand scrapes the stubble on his face as he agrees, the sound loud in the relative quiet of the apartment. “You want another beer?” He gets up at her nod and grabs them both a bottle, frosted from the refrigerator’s chill. He opens her bottle with his own, an old party trick he learned back in recruit training that never fails to make Karen smile. She lifts a brow and holds her hand out when he can’t find an opener for his own beer, then proceeds to open it for him with a key of all things.

“I’ve been practicing,” she says with a proud smile that slams him in the chest. He sits down at the end of the couch and tugs her into him, her back against his front, her silken hair tickling him until he sweeps it away to gently lay a kiss on her neck.

Karen asks another question, her voice soft again. “Who gave the best gifts?” Frank’s surprised huff is loud in her ear.

“Not me, that’s for sure. I had to learn. She never wanted jewelry, shit like that.” His chin rests on her shoulder and he tilts his face to hers. “You sure you’re okay talking about this?”

“I want to know. She’s a part of your life.” The tense doesn’t go unnoticed, nor does her brief kiss to his lips, silencing his concerns. Part of him wants to get lost in it but he can feel she’s hungry for his words, for the little things that made up his life before.

Before. God, what a small word to fit too much into. 

He thinks it over and Karen lets him, he hears her bottle lift and drop, the slosh of liquid and the displacement of air. 

Before. Before grief so strong that the only recourse was rage. Before he let himself become The Punisher. He tenses up and Karen places a gentle kiss on his cheek. He slows the thoughts from spiraling, for her. It takes him a few moments to center himself as the living room clock that he swears he's going to find a way to secretly throw out one day ticks loudly, resolutely.

“Y’know that whole thing, not that Women are from Mars shit but the other self-help thing. Uhhh,” he lifts his head from her shoulder and takes a swig. “Your love language, yeah?” He sees her nod and continues. “Maria was an acts of service person, so it worked because that’s what I’m good at. Fix the washer, take the kids to the dentist, she could care less about gifts when it came down to it.”

“What about you, what’s your love language?” And god if the question isn’t so strange, because part of being with Karen is realizing that they haven’t known each other all that long, the moments stretching out like hours through the violence were just that.

“Touch, for one.” He nuzzles into her neck again, as if to illustrate the point. “I’m an old-fashioned kind of guy. After they died, that was the hardest, I think. To know I’d never be able to wrap my arms around her, around the kids.” His chest constricts; his heart knows it will never not hurt, same as his head.

She sits up and turns in his arms. “I should be the one asking if you’re okay.”

He blinks once, twice. “Yeah. Yeah, I am.” Because he knows this is part of the after.

After. He met Karen in the space between, he knows that now, just as he knows she's the one that stretched the moment out, turned time on its head, helped him have this. He smiles and Karen looks at him curiously, her eyes bright and warm. After. Yeah. That word can't hold it all either.

He pulls her into his arms, arms that cross over her back more than they did with Maria. Karen feels different and he’s glad for it. Doesn’t want to confuse the two, ever. Feels disrespectful to both of them. His voice is a little more broken than he intended when he speaks again. 

“I love you. And I love her.”

“I know.”

It’s gentle and soft and everything, to the both of them.

[dnfao3tags]

Monthly Fic Roundup - February 2024

haven't been too active this month but here's your monthly recs!

as always, make sure to leave some love :]

— Turning Right on Red by jestbee (expl. | comp. | 4k) ; established relationship + car sex

George's stream has consequences.

— Drumroll, Please by starsgaze (snowdreamr) (gen | comp. | 5k) ; bed sharing + relationship study

Everything it is, and everything it isn’t. A proposal, of sorts. A half confession. Over all, the weight of wanting and the agony of bearing with it. Dream and George, deprived of meaning.

— GeorgeNotFound OnlyFans by Simplysmitten (expl. | comp. | 37k) ; sex work + secret identity

Fresh out of university and struggling to land a job in his field, George finds himself desperate for a way to make ends meet. While his friends have big dreams of blowing up on YouTube, George decides to make an OnlyFans profile. Shockingly, George goes viral on both platforms, making his money troubles a thing of the past, but maintaining his anonymity a constant worry. How funny is it that he manages to make a friend named Clay on both platforms?

— don't know how long it's going to take to feel okay (i had the best day with you today) by brokenlikeastitch (teen | comp. | 7k) ; dream's mom + established relationship

Three times George needed a mom and Dream's mom was there for him.

— what i wanted to hear by alisonsomething, dizzy (expl. | comp. | 3k) ; phone sex

George is in Los Angeles and Dream is in Florida. It’s not the first time they’ve been thousands of miles apart, and Dream can’t stop thinking about one very memorable conversation they had shortly before George’s visa was approved.

— Suction by tsundanire (expl. | comp. | 1k) ; nipple play

George trusts Dream completely. Trusts him enough with his most sensitive bits.

— wish that i could step into yours instead by Kore_Writes (teen | comp. | 12k) ; canon compliant + character study

A series of moments in Dream's life that George had always been there for him.

— he loves him more than anyone ever has in the history of man by brokenlikeastitch (teen | comp. | 14k) ; pov outsider

dream and george over the years through the perspectives of their friends

— the end of all things by womanhunt (teen | comp. | 9k) ; marriage (eloping)

“We should get married.” The words make Dream choke on the scrambled eggs in his mouth, and George just stares at him blankly as he coughs and takes a drink of his water. And, before he can overthink it, Dream gives in. “Ok, yeah. We should get married,” he nods to himself, reaching out to pull George’s hands apart and link their fingers together. “Did you mean, like, soon? Or?” “I mean, like, today.” George murmurs, eyes still not meeting Dream’s.

— my love by cqfnce (teen | comp. | 8k) ; patches the good cat

dream and george go last-minute shopping for patches' birthday

— daisies, daisies by snowdreamr (expl. | comp. | 15k) ; mpreg + future fic

On secrecy and patience. On learning how to embrace the unexpected.

— this is me trying by dizzy (teen | comp. | 5k) ; mental health issues + hopeful ending

Is this a cage? George's guts rebel against that, too. He fought to be here. This is the freedom from years of locking himself inside. He has no regrets. He doesn’t want anything to be different, except maybe that he could walk into a room without Dream or Sapnap looking at him like he’s not who they thought he was.

— Circling Back by Scoops (consciousness_streaming) (expl. | comp. | 15k) ; identity porn + coworkers

As a remote worker, George's only real friend at Pog Industries is Clay, the marketing genius who skyrocketed up the corporate ladder. Sure, maybe his work bestie is old and really bad at Fortnite, and they've never actually met, but they have each other's backs. And that's what's important. When a position on the Board opens up for George, it's Clay going to their CEO, Badboy Halo, to get him hired in the position. To George's amazement, it works. Now, he's moving to America the night before the infamous Pog Industries Christmas Party, and he's ready to put some names to faces.

— make a home on the cracks by lodestones (teen | comp. | 2k) ; baby fever + developing relationship

He’d be a good dad, Dream thinks—people are always telling him he’ll be good at it. It’s not anything all-consuming, but it’s a fantasy he still returns to every once in a while, dancing in the back of his mind whenever little kids approach him and ask for a picture. He catches himself daydreaming about it at least a thousand times more often after the first time he watches George interact with younger fans.

— George Not Found Is Stupid and Hides His Pregnancy From Dream For Two Whole Months by mario anon and apple anon (teen | comp. | 4k) ; mpreg

Hes pregnant it is all i know how to write

— executive session by dizzy (expl. | comp. | 1.7k) ; exhibitionism

Dream is a senate intern, and George is the guy he's about to fuck on the senate floor.

note: i've been fucking WAITING for someone to write a fic on this

— no thing's so sure that i can't learn to doubt it by brokenlikeastitch (teen | comp. | 11k) ; professors au

The closer he gets to George’s door, the louder the crying gets, and when he finally reaches the open doorway, he glances in to see a girl sitting across the desk from George, practically hyperventilating. In all of his years of teaching, with all of the students he’s had upset with him, Dream is pretty sure he’s never had a student this upset with him. He wonders if George is, like, torturing his students.

— The need to know by tsundanire (expl. | comp. | 5k) ; dick measuring

DRICK vs GRICK

— dear future husband by dizzy (expl. | comp. | 3k) ; breeding and housewife kink

Dream tells George that since he isn't paying rent he should at least be putting dinner on the table... and George decides to prove him right.

— it is not about me being gay with george by alisonsomething (teen | comp. | 2k) ; insecurity + miscommunication

Dream’s latest TikTok makes George angry enough to confront him about it.

— Honeysuckle Jam by gottagetshiver (expl. | comp. | 71k) ; omegaverse

George has terrible heats, he always has. He'd thought that after years of peace on suppressants, he's be done with them forever. It works, until it doesn't. The doctor says his best chance at fixing his terrible heats is having an alpha with him, and it just so happens that Dream is an alpha. It'll be easy, right? Dream will help him through his heat, and he'll be fixed. The fact that George is madly in love with Dream won't complicate matters at all, right? It won't upend their lives and throw them into chaos, right?

note: published last month but finished this month so im including it

[eyesofshinigami]

It Ain't About the Pitch

Rating: G

CW: None

Tags: Established relationship, fluff

Prompt: For @shares-a-vest "Love is tolerating your partner's terrible singing"

WC: 826

Written for Day 26 of @steddielovemonth

There were many, many things that Steve was good at. Eddie should know, as he’s become the foremost expert on all things Steve Harrington. So, he would be able to easily wax poetic about how good of a cook Steve is, how great he is in bed. He could also tell you how Steve seems to remember things about people that no one else does, or his uncanny knack for knowing where stuff is, even at other people’s houses. 

There are so many wonderful things that Steve is good at. Just…

Singing isn’t one of them. 

Dancing? Steve’s got that down pat. He’s got moves that could make your momma blush and Eddie is a weak, weak man for his boyfriend shaking his hips like that. But singing… Steve’s about as tone deaf as they come. 

That doesn’t stop him from singing his heart out, and Eddie has to admire that about him. Like right now, with Steve prancing around their kitchen in a pair of sweatpants and one of Eddie’s old band tees, warbling along with George Micheal’s new song about having faith while he’s flipping pancakes like a pro.

“Eddie, man… I think we need to tell him,” Dustin says, breaking Eddie out of his Steve-induced coma. “How can you stand that? He sounds like a cat that’s had its tail rocked on too many times!”

Dustin isn’t wrong, exactly, but Eddie shakes his head. “Leave him alone, Henderson. He’s having fun.” 

While it is an absolute assault on his senses, Steve’s lack of pitch and his incredible love of pop music, Eddie loves him like this. Unself-conscious and free, dancing and singing like he hasn’t got a care in the world. Eddie knows that even now, Steve feels like he needs to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. He’s always ready to jump head first into a problem, to stand between those he loves and the world like he’s got something to prove. So, to see him wiggling his hips and singing “Faith” off-key? Yeah, Eddie wouldn’t trade that for the world. 

Dustin whines. “He’s killing me. And George Micheal? Come on!”

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “There’s the door, Henderson. No one’s keeping you here. Hell, if you leave, that means I can convince Steve to give me a private dance right there in the kitchen!” 

It has the intended effect, making Dustin groan even louder. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes, the kids know how this works now. “Gross, I don’t even want to think about you two bumping uglies where Steve makes my pancakes.”

“There aren’t going to be any pancakes if you don’t stop griping,” Steve calls out in a sing-song voice, still wiggling his hips. “What’s got you all bent out of shape this time?”

“Your-”

Eddie clasps a hand over Dustin’s mouth and glares at him. “What isn’t Henderson griping about, baby? Don’t you worry, I’ll set him straight.” 

Steve just shrugs and goes back to making pancakes, tapping his foot as the song shifts to something else. Eddie vaguely recognizes it, but Steve is yell-singing about how heaven is a place on Earth. It’s terrible. It’s awful. It’s the best thing he’s ever seen in his life.

“I swear to god, Henderson, if you make him upset because he can’t sing, I will end you and every single character you roll in any of my games,” Eddie hisses through clenched teeth. 

He hears a snort from behind him, turning to see Steve standing behind the two of them with an amused grin on his face. “You don’t have to spare my feelings, I know I sound awful.” 

Eddie releases Dustin and pulls Steve into a hug. He’s got a smear of batter on his face but he’s smiling so sweetly, soft in the way that makes Eddie melt on the inside. “Awful is a really strong word. I’m just happy you’re happy, baby. I’d listen to you caterwaul all day and night if it makes you smile like that.”

A pretty pink blush breaks out over Steve’s cheeks. It kind of makes Eddie wish he had kicked Dustin out when he had the chance. “Such a sweet talker you are,” Steve teases, closing the distance to bring their lips together in a sweet kiss that’s just a little bit dirty. 

“Ugh, man, go back to singing, Steve, I can’t take this anymore. This is the last time I stay over after a movie night.”

They break apart and Steve throws his dish towel at Dustin. “And this will be the last time I make you pancakes, you ungrateful little shit. Even though I got- oh shit! Eddie! I know this one!” Steve starts dancing in Eddie’s arms, crooning along with whatever song has just come on the radio. He gets Eddie dancing too, and Dustin even reluctantly starts shimmying along with the beat. 

Yeah, who needs perfect pitch when he’s got this right here?

[m-musings]

Winging It: Buggy The Clown X Winged! Fem! Reader Pt. 1

A/N: bless the one piece fans for getting me into the show and introducing me to this man because he is just so FJSCBKGHLKDGW, like you feel me? anywaysss, first time writing for one piece, let's do this whoooo!

(part 2 here! :] )

Word Count: 2.7k Summary: Buggy asks (Y/n) to help out with an unusual task, chaos ensues. Warnings: a dude being a creep to reader later on and a little bit of ooc on Buggy's behalf, but other than that, just some good ol' fluff!

It all started out as a perfectly normal day.

After another busy day on the Big Top and another successful "show", Buggy had given the majority of his crew the day off to do whatever they wished.

As soon as (Y/n) was able, she unfurled her feathery wings and flew up to the crows nest, needing to get away from the madness down on the deck for a while.

Closing her eyes, (Y/n) took a deep breath of the refreshing ocean air as the breeze blew softly against her face.

Having joined Buggy's crew a few months earlier, she had never expected her life to change as much as it did as fast as it did.

(Y/n) originally came from a life as the sole inhabitant of a tiny island in the middle of the East Blue. One day, the Big Top and its crew happened to be sailing by and stopped to search the island for any supplies they could find.

Fearing the worst, (Y/n) grabbed her baseball bat and and flew out of her hut to stop the pirates from getting any closer.

After fending off a few of the crew members, Buggy swiftly stepped in to try and diffuse the situation, being unusually calm and level headed as he addressed (Y/n).

Realizing her wings could be useful to him in shows and in pillaging, Buggy invited her to join him and his pirates instead of struggling to keep herself alive and entertained on her little islet.

With a hesitant but quick decision, (Y/n) agreed, asking for some time to pack some personal items before Buggy and the rest of the crew led her back to the boat, intent on celebrating a new member of the gang.

Quickly learning the ropes of pirating and climbing up the ranks of the crew, (Y/n) eventually became a high ranking member, just behind Mohji and Buggy himself.

She even managed to become friends with the quirky captain, to the the slight disbelief of the rest of their crewmates. In addition, after getting to know each other a bit more, that friendship slowly turned into a (huge) crush on (Y/n)'s part, but neither Buggy nor anyone else needed to know that part.

And even though the start of her pirating adventure was a little strange, (Y/n) could never say she missed her old life. Being apart of the Big Top Crew gave her the family and friends she was sorely missing on her island.

Reveling in the quiet of the air, (Y/n) smiled to herself as she thought of her new existence as the Big Top's resident trapeze artist, grateful that she now had the world at her fingertips, plus people to fight beside and fight for.

As she reminisced upon the past, her eyebrows perked up when she heard ropes creaking from somewhere down below.

"Hey doll! Figured I'd find you up here!" Grunted a voice from beside her.

She cracked one of her eyes open to see Buggy climbing up the rigging, the tail of his bandana flowing behind him.

"Hey, Cap! Did you need something?"

"Nah, not right now. But I might once we get to the island we're headed to. If the winds are good, we should get there in the next 2 days."

"Oh, yeah, I nearly forgot! What's so special about this island anyway? Isn't the stop just for us to stock up again before we head out to meet Alvida?" (Y/n) questioned, sitting down on the floor of the crows nest as she scootched over to make some room for Buggy.

"That's part of it, yes, but the main reason we're stopping is because a couple of our cannons were destroyed in our last fight with the Marines. There's a few weaponsmiths in a city there that are willing to sell us a few new ones if we can negotiate a good price for both of us."

"So we need them to agree to our bargain so we don't get demolished by another battle on the way to meet Alvida?"

"Exactly! You're one smart cookie.

"Hmm, I try." She shrugged with pleased grin, her wings fluffing out in sync.

"You sure do, (Y/n/n). Anyways, I came to see if you would be willing to come with me, just to make sure nothing fishy happens while I'm not paying attention. Maybe pretend to be my arm candy to trick them, y'know?"

"Me? Can't someone, like, Cabaji do it? He's got way more experience with this stuff than I do."

"He's gonna be in charge of the ship while we're gone. Plus, I mean, you're the only one who would make spending time with dumbasses like these smith guys bearable. You would save me of literally dying of boredom."

"Pfft, I doubt that" Answered (Y/n) as she rolled her eyes at the clown's exaggeration.

Buggy chuckled, smiling softly at the girl as he rested his arm atop her shoulder.

The action causes a very subtle blush to appear on her face, which she tries to keep hidden by scratching at her neck.

"So whadya say, huh? Wanna go on a little adventure with me?"

(Y/n) sighed with a sputter of her lips before turning to answer the blue haired man.

"Sure, Captain, I'll come along. It could be kinda fun."

"Aww, thanks (Y/n), you're the best! Even better than Mohji! But don't tell him that." Whispered Buggy as he jokingly cupped his hand over his mouth.

"You're ridiculous, Captain." she laughed softly, bumping her shoulder with his.

"And I take pride in that. It's all I got goin' for me, after all." Chuckled Buggy, who shrugged and leaned back in reply.

(Y/n) gave him an amused grin in reply before shifting her eyes back towards the big blue ocean that surrounded them.

The two then sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes before the voice of another crewmate called out for Buggy from somewhere on the main deck.

"Well, sweets, duty calls. See you later, huh?" Buggy said with a salute before he made his way back down the rigging.

As he disappeared from sight, (Y/n) bashfully put her head in her hands as she tried not to overthink the nickname her captain had given her.

"Oh, damn.... what have I gotten myself into?..." (Y/n) questioned herself as she placed her head against her knees.

After a few more minutes of sitting by herself while she scanned the horizon, Buggy yelled out, calling the crew back to the deck for another show.

With a small shake of her head, (Y/n) stood up, stretched, and flew down to gather with the rest of the troupe.

Just as Buggy had said, the Big Top had reached it's island destination a couple days later. Thankfully, there wasn't many Marines in this town, meaning the crew could go into town to stretch their legs on land and get any supplies they might need for the rest of the trip.

Still on the ship, (Y/n) sat below deck as she tried to find something other than her circus costume to wear, wanting to be able to blend into the crowds better or just in case a high ranking Marine or someone from the World Government showed up and recognized her alongside Buggy.

Rummaging through her chest of clothes, her wings fluttered as she finally found a simple black tank top and a pair of jeans.

After placing the clothing on her bed and gliding over to a nearby vanity to do some basic makeup, she heard a knock at her door while she applied some light rouge to her face.

"Come in, it's open!" She announced as she grabbed another brush from the vanity drawer.

Looking behind her using the mirror, she saw a familiar orange pirate hat pop into view.

"Are you decent?" Buggy said as he entered the room, his disembodied hands floating in front of his face to cover his eyes

"Yes, Captain, you can open your eyes if you want." (Y/n) giggled as she put on some finishing touches of makeup.

Popping off one of his fingers to glance at the girl, he gasped lightly as he finally saw her face.

"Wow, you look fantastic!" Buggy said with an impressed nod.

"Really? It's not much different than my usual casual looks..." Claimed (Y/n) as she timidly placed a hand upon her cheek.

"Either way, angel, you look good. But I suppose that's beside the point. I just came to tell you to be ready to go by sundown. I'll be waiting on the dock, Don't be late." He winked before leaving the room.

With a huff as she tried to compose herself, (Y/n) stood up to get dressed and mentally prepare herself for the night.

Within just a few short hours, the sun had finally set upon the island, and right on cue, (Y/n) left her quarters and strutted over to the deck railing to see Buggy down on the pier waiting for her.

"Ah, (Y/n) there you are! I was worried for a sec, thought you were gonna chicken out on me!"

"No, I'm here. Someone has gotta keep an eye on you!"

"Well, I'm glad that someone is you. Shall we go?" Buggy motioned as (Y/n) climbed down to meet him.

"Yes, we shall, mon capitaine!" (Y/n) quipped as he held her head up high with a light giggle.

"C'mon, let's get going." Chuckled Buggy in response as the two made their way out of the marina.

After a minute or so of idle chatter about their days, (Y/n) spoke up with a question she had been meaning to ask.

"What do we do if they don't agree to give us the cannons for the price you set?"

"Well If that happens, I guess we'll just have to... wing it!" Buggy quipped as he gave the girl a sly grin.

"Oh, ha ha, very funny!" (Y/n) fake laughed as she playfully smacked Buggy's back with one of her wings.

"Thank you! I am funny!" Buggy declared as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, careful to avoid the feathers on her back.

(Y/n) bit her bottom lip in reply as she moved her gaze to the cobblestone ground beneath them.

"So where exactly is this weapons store at?"

"Not far, we come to this place every so often so I know the quickest way to get there."

(Y/n) nodded in acknowledgement as Buggy began to tell her some fun stories about his past adventures here.

About 15 minutes later, Buggy made an excited noise as he realized where they were.

"Ok, (Y/n/n), the weaponsmiths store is just up ahead, I'll lead you there." He announced, taking her hand until they found the place they needed to be.

As the door swung open, a little bell rang overhead, signaling to the two workers that someone had entered the shop.

"Gentlemen! How's it going, am I late to the party?!"

"Ah, you must be the guy that contacted us the other day! Nah, you're right on time! Did you bring cash?" Asked one of the men who (Y/n) assumed was the shop owner.

Buggy rolled his eyes as he pulled out a large stack of berry from his pocket and placed it onto a nearby counter, in front of the younger man with black hair.

"Perfect! If you follow me, I can show you the canons we currently have on stock." the older of the two men said, leading Buggy past a few rows of shelves and cabinets to another part of the store.

Just before they rounded the corner, Buggy and (Y/n) gave each other a reassuring nod.

After a brief moment of looking around at the various weapons and items scattered across the room, (Y/n)'s attention was grabbed by the sound of someone behind her clearing her throat.

She slowly whirled back around to see the younger of the two shopkeepers looking her up and down.

"Hey gorgeous, how ya doin' on this fine evening?" The man who stayed at the counter smirked, looking at (Y/n) with something dangerous flashing in his eyes

"Fine, thanks..." (Y/n) giving him a polite smile

"So, you uh, doing anything tonight?"

"Just getting those cannons, then we're headed back out."

"Aw come on, you couldn't stay for... say, one drink with me at the bar in town?"

"Um, thanks but no thanks, I've got stuff to do back on our ship." Responded the girl as she took a few steps backwards

"Are you sure? I could give you a real fun time, cutie!" Chuckled the man as he walked around the counter to stand in front of (Y/n) with his arms crossed.

"Yeah, positive. Sorry." (Y/n) finalized as she started to walk away, but was near-instantly stopped.

"Oh, come on, pretty birdy, leave that idiotic clown guy and spend the night with a real man huh?!" The man cackled as he grabbed onto (Y/n)'s wrist and pulled her into his chest.

"Ow! Let me go!" Hissed (Y/n) as she began to tug against the mans grasp, flapping her wings slightly to give her a bit more leverage.

The man laughed crudely before grabbing her other arm and trapping her against a shelf.

"Hey, maybe that stupid pirate will let me keep you! Who knows, maybe we can see all of the things those pretty little wings of yours can do!"

With a disgusted scoff, (Y/n) went to grab a small dagger she had hidden in her left pocket, but before she could even find it, a white-gloved hand shot across the store to grip the black haired man's collar.

"What exactly do you think you're doing?!" Buggy inquired, his voice menacingly low as he appeared back from the other side of the store.

"Uh, well, you see I- it's um-"

"Answer me!"

"C'mon, It was a joke! I didn't mean anything by it!" The man tried to convince the Captain as he let out a nervous laugh.

"Didn't seem very funny to me..." Buggy stated as he glared daggers at the shopkeeper.

"You're right, it wasn't, I- I apologize-" he stammered with a fearful whimper before Buggy pushed him back against the counter with a growl.

"If you ever try to touch anyone on my crew again, I'll personally make sure you lose both of your hands, got it?!"

"Okay, alright, I'm sorry! It won't happen again, sir!" The man agreed with a frightened look at the pirate.

Buggy scoffs irately, throwing the man onto the floor before picking the berry back up and stuffing it back into his pocket.

"C'mon, (Y/n), we're getting the hell outta here." Buggy spat as he gingerly grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the shop.

Confusedly sputtering as they clambered back down the road, (Y/n) stared at Buggy with wide eyes.

"Slow down a little, please!" (Y/n) said, stumbling as she tried to keep pace with Buggy.

With an apologetic and upset glance, Buggy released her hand before she hurried over to walk side by side with him.

"Buggy, what the hell was that about?!"

"Don't worry about it, we just needed to leave that shithole before I killed someone."

"That hasn't stopped you before!"

"I'll just say I'm feeling generous tonight then." Snarled Buggy, growing more and more enraged as the pair walked.

"We need to go back, we need those canons or we're screwed!"

"We can get the canons somewhere else, we need to go."

"But what was that all about?! Sure, the guy was a douche, but I could have easily just pushed him off with my wings or cut him with my dagger. Why are you being so weird about this?!"

"Because no one fucks with my girl!" Buggy shouted, spinning around to come face to face with (Y/n).

"W-wait, wait... Your girl?..." (Y/n) asked quietly, freezing as the meaning of his words sunk in.

Buggy halted his rant as he turned to fully face her, finally realizing what he had said. Running a palm through his blue locks, he dejectedly shook his head as he struggled to find the right words to say.

"Just forget about it, okay?! We have to get back to the ship..." Buggy muttered as he continued to stomp away.

As the blue haired pirate angrily marched down the street, (Y/n) stood frozen on the edge of the town, not knowing how to feel about what her beloved captain had just revealed to her.

[sirianasims]

Chapter 43.5

Idiot.

The voice in my head is persistent. It’s been over two months but it’s not letting up.

I try to focus on the lines, struggling to keep the faint remnants of my Tartosan accent from creeping into Llama Man’s commanding voice. It’s always more difficult just after I’ve been home.

Idiot.

Images from the last year keep flashing by, little details seared into my brain. Her green eyes. Her smile. The delicate birthmarks artfully strewn across her face. I used to insist on kissing each of them goodbye before I left and it always made her laugh.

It was the best sound in the world.

Idiot.

The more recent images are a different story. Her tears. The look of shock and confusion in her eyes. She didn’t understand, of course, and some days I’m not sure I do either. Am I an idiot for leaving her? Or for letting myself fall in love with her in the first place?

Both?

“Alright, Paul, that was good, but let’s do an extra take just to be sure.”

I nod at the sound technician and start over.

“I’ve sent the files off to Mike. Personally, I don’t think he’ll demand another round, the last two takes were flawless.”

“Thanks. I’m sorry for dragging you in for pick-ups again, I’ve been feeling a bit off lately.”

“Hey, it’s a pay check. And I’m going to need it for the move. We want to get settled into the new house before my son’s wedding so we’re already packing.”

“Did you find a job in Henford yet?”

“Not yet, but my wife got an offer. We’ll make it work. My kid is the only family I have left, so if he moves abroad, we follow. And I never liked staying in one place for too long anyway, I get restless.”

“Well, best of luck over there, Charles. The new sound tech will have some big shoes to fill.”

“Thanks, Paul. It’s been a pleasure working with you.”

Charles leaves, and I turn on the coffee machine.

I’ve just finished pouring two mugs when Lee arrives.

“Oh, you must have read my mind, love, I am positively dying for a coffee right now.”

“When are you not?”

Lee settles onto the sofa with a sigh.

“It’s been one of those weeks, deadlines put such a damper on my creativity. But how was Tartosa? Did you have a nice birthday?”

“It was fine. I didn’t feel like making it a huge thing, but my mother had arranged a family dinner at the vineyard.”

“Ah, just an intimate and completely non-threatening gathering with fifteen to twenty people, then.”

I lean back against the counter and take a long sip of the coffee to avoid responding. It’s still too hot, and I grimace as the liquid burns my mouth. Idiot.

Lee isn’t so easily deterred, though.

“So, that’s it? You’re just never going to see her again?”

“Lee, first of all, she blocked me. On my birthday, no less. So I’m going to take that as a big fat hint and respect her wishes. Second, I broke up with her because it was a dead end. She’s not going to settle down for another decade, and when she does, she’s not going to pick some fifty year old relic.”

Lee raises an eyebrow.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Yeah, I said it. Sorry to break it to you, Lee, but you’re old. Ancient. Practically dust.”

“I’m choosing to ignore your hurtful remarks because you’re clearly heartbroken and out of your mind with grief.”

I snort. “Sorry. I’m fine, really, I’m just annoyed at myself.”

“For irrationally breaking up with the love of your life or for stubbornly refusing to reconsider?”

“For being an idiot in general, I guess. I knew it was a bad idea. I even told her as much the first time I met her. But then I just had to go back and talk to her again like a complete dumbass and she practically invited herself back to my hotel. How could I say no to that?”

Lee chuckles. “Oh, but you couldn’t, of course you couldn’t. I mean, she’s not exactly my type, but I can still appreciate the aesthetics, as it were.”

“Right? And that might even have been fine if it never went any further, but I got carried away and kept seeing her even though everyone could tell it was going to end badly. We’re both better off like this, I’ll get over it.”

Lee just looks at me over the rim of his glasses.

“Are you sure? I may be a dusty old relic but as far as I’m aware, the only way you could possibly know that she blocked you is if you spent your birthday trying to look her up.”

“Thanks, detective. It was a moment of weakness, you don’t need to rub it in my face.”

“I’m not trying to rub anything in your face, love, I know it’s not your thing. But you were clearly serious about her if you were planning to bring her to Tartosa. And just because the poor girl understandably got slightly intimidated, you drop her like a newborn giraffe. Why not give her some more time?”

“I didn’t… Lee, it was the sensible thing to do! I just turned forty, I can’t just spend years waiting for her to make up her mind and hope for the best.”

“I don’t share your fetish for monogamy, but I believe all relationships are like that, you can never be certain. But you’ve always been stubborn so I’ll just give you the usual break-up advice. Get a haircut, hit the gym, put yourself back out there. Will you at least see my stylist?”

“Never. I am not brave enough to let Jessica Clemons near my wardrobe.”

beginning / previous / next

[mossy123302]

Pumpkin Carving

Prompt: Day 1 Pumpkin Carving. By Pepper_Mintyzz

It was cold and chilly, the weather you'd expect from the upcoming fall. This meant, no more shorts or sleeveless clothes. It was time to bundle up, start making hot cocoa of some sorts and getting ready for the upcoming holidays.

This is where Missa was currently finding himself in. He was in a field, a field of many pumpkins and he was trying to determine which were good… He refuses to take such rotten ones. He needed to make sure they were good, it's the very least he could do to prove to Philza his gratitude for letting him enter his hardcore world. He's pretty sure Philza wouldn't really care, but he did!

Missa’s black ear gently flickered at the small contact of the breeze. It was going to get colder, so he reluctantly just picked two pumpkins that seemed good enough and trotted back to their— Philza's base.

“Oh hey, mate” Phil hummed, as he dusted his hands off the soul sand dust on his pants, indicating he had barely arrived back from the Nether. “Oh, those pumpkins?”

Missa nodded, having just set the pumpkins on a makeshift table that he quickly made at the last second when he realized Phil didn't have a table in this house. “Si, para la próxima temporada de halloween” He replied, as he looked through Philza's chest, trying to find any sharpies or simple cutting tools to use. He finally looked at Philza, who seemed to be feeling the pumpkin and checking if they were alright.

“All I got was Halloween.” Phil said, as he chuckled while his wings fluttered behind him. “Man, these are pretty good pumpkins if you ask me. We could have made pumpkin pie instead!”

“No. We must do it traditionally. Para nuestros ninos” Missa grumbled, as he gently smacked Phil’s hand away from the pumpkins, clearly not trusting him to not take it and run off to make pumpkin pie. Phil laughed a bit, stepping back and walking to the crafting bench to create the materials that Missa couldn't find.

“Puta Madre, tú no tienes?! You just watched me look around like a clueless moron” Missa huffed, and Phil burst out laughing at that, his wings slightly spread out from the action. “Listen, it was very cute to watch you look around like a confused cat trying to find it's you”

Phil was quick to make the materials, just years of practice, really. He made his way back over, handing a charcoal to Missa instead of a sharpie that Missa slightly got used to using back in the other world. “Old traditions stuff, mate” He said, amused as he grabbed his own charcoal and started to mark on the pumpkin.

“Cállate.” Missa muttered, as he focused on his own pumpkin. He didn't have to go all out, but October was a month of the dead, sort of. It was more or less for ghost related traditions, he wasn't sure if Phil followed the same manner that he did. However, Phil didn't seem to mind following these silly traditions with him… He felt his ears gently pressed down against his head, as he carefully drew Chayanne and Tallulah onto the pumpkin. He fully hoped that his two children would somehow, miraculously, see these glowing pumpkins and they'd return home.

It was a silly and hopeful wish, but… Damn it. He missed his kids, it's been months already since they hatched and they never spend Halloween together before. Missa jolted a bit, when he felt something warm and heavy, slightly drape over his shoulders and he realized it was Phil’s wing over him. He glanced over, and Phil just seemed focused on drawing on his pumpkin.

“...” Missa softly smiled, as he turned his attention back to the pumpkin. Yeah, it'll be fine… he's sure the kids will appreciate these pumpkins even if they're not here.

In the field of pumpkins, two crows happily perched on a few pumpkins, cawing to each other.