#ALSO SORRY FOR DISAPPEARING OUTTA NOWHERE!

[londoneh]

DOODLES DOODLES DOODLES!!

•❤️🧡💛•

[petite-phthora]

Shouldn’t have digital evidence when you have a family of hackers

[DP x DC fic]

[Love at first... murder? - part 14]

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Part 1

Ao3

---

Text in italics and in-between ' means it is said in sign language

'For example.'

If an entire scene is written in italics, that means that that scene is a flashback.

---

When Jason glances at where Danny and Ellie were, he sees nothing. He’s too relieved to really care much about how they got out of here so quickly.

He’ll ask Danny about it later.

Probably…

“Red Hood.”

“Bitch.” Is his response.

Jason is slightly disappointed, but entirely unsurprised, by the lack of reaction he gets.

“Who were they?”

“What were those civilians doing on the roof?”

“Where did they even go?”

“Just some informants for a case I’ve been working on.” Jason says, not giving anything about them away.

“Which case?”

“Did they attack you?”

“Yeah, who took a bite out of your arm? And more importantly, how did you taste?”

“Steph, I don’t think now’s the time—”

‘Medical assistance?’

Jason follows the Bats’ gazes towards his injured arm. He resists the urge to hide it and instead crosses his arms, trying to play it off.

“No, this is from… a cat.”

“A cat?”

“Yes. A stray cat. Bit me.”

“Tch. It’s obvious Todd is incompetent when it comes to caring for animals. For it to attack you like that you must have done quite poorly. What did you do to it?” Damien glares at him in an accusatory way.

“I didn’t do shit, Demon Brat. I was just scanning the street when it bit me outta nowhere.”

“Well, excuse me if I don’t believe you, Todd. You clearly must have cornered, threatened, or hurt it in some way for it to react—"

“Yeah, yeah.” Jason cuts him off and rolls his eyes, even though none of them can see it through the helmet. The energy is there.

“Animals hate me, and I can’t take care of them for shit. Now, can we move on to why you’re all here on my turf?” Jason stares them all down.

Before anyone else can speak up, Dick starts talking.

“Can’t an elder brother just visit his younger sibling every once in a while?” Dick asks with a totally innocent grin.

“No.”

Dick shrugs. “Worth a shot.”

“While we originally came here to interrogate you about your involvement in the disappearance of the Joker, these imbeciles wanted to use the encounter as a way to simultaneously confront you about your new… beloved” Damian says, gesturing towards the others sounding completely done and unimpressed.

‘Got them flowers?’

“So how was the dinner? And the observatory? Do they like the stars? What’s their name? Hobbies? Age? Appearance? Interests?”

“Are they hot?”

“Seeing as you picked up a bouquet of sweet peas in costume, and didn’t take a detour to your apartment or safehouse before your location started glitching, I have to ask. Are you dating a civilian as Red Hood?” Babs speaks up over the comms.

Tim stays suspiciously silent, not asking any questions. Jason cuts them all off.

“Where the hell did you even get this information from?”

“Tim snitched.”

“Drake mentioned it.”

“Tim.”

“Timmy told us.”

“Red Robin informed us about your outing.”

“I hacked some cams to see you pick up the flowers, but Tim was the one to say you were on a date at the time.”

Tim raises his finger and opens his mouth as if he’s about to speak up and defend himself. He then stops, seemingly considering something before dropping his hand back down and just shrugging.

“If you didn’t want anyone to know you shouldn’t have gone out as Red Hood when getting the flowers and taking them out to dinner.

“Besides, I tried to respect your privacy and redirect everyone somewhere else to keep them off your back. But they interrogated me, and I’m sorry.” He says, not sounding sorry at all. “It just… slipped out.”

“You didn’t try that hard—"

Tim shushes Steph and cuts her off.

“Besides! Babs also stalked you! Through the cameras! And, I didn’t say that much. I just told them you were on a date.”

Jason glares at them all through the visor of his helmet. Meanwhile, Dick crosses his arms and pouts.

“Yeah, Timbers—” “No real names.” “— wouldn’t tell us anything! He used his lack of sleep against us.”

---

“So Timmy, I need you to tell me everything. Pretty please?”

Tim raises his finger and opens his mouth as if he’s about to speak up. Then his eyes roll into the back of his head and he starts falling backward.

Dick yelps and manages to catch him before he falls onto the ground and hits his head.

“Damn it, Tim!” He whines. “Passing out like that should not have been the power move that it is.”

“He can fall asleep after this?!” Steph’s incredulous voice pipes up.

Dick’s gaze moves from Tim over to where Steph was previously half-dying due to Tim’s monstrosity of a drink. She’s standing by now, clutching the mug in a death grip. She’s twitching every now and again, her foot tapping the floor rapidly.

“Ehm, Steph? You okay?”

“Mhmm, think I’m having a stroke”

“Oh, that’s not good—”

Dick cuts himself off as Steph starts to stumble. He moves closer to catch her in case she falls as well, but luckily she manages to save herself from falling, clumsily moving to sit down on the floor instead.

Once seated, she lets her back hit the floor. She also lets go of the mug, letting it spill onto and roll around the floor of the cave.

“Y’know, I think I’m just gonna stay here for a bit. Maybe do some stalactite gazing. It’s riveting stuff, I tell you!”

Dick lets out a small sigh and nods a little.

“You do you, boo”

He gets a thumbs-up in response.

---

“Why are you actually here?” He cuts them off, already done with their bullshit. “Don’t start the bullshit about the ‘date’ again. Either talk business or leave.”

He privately notes the lack of green in his vision.

They all glance at each other before Batman steps forward and speaks up.

“What is your involvement in the disappearance of the Joker.”

“I don’t have anything to do with the Joker’s disappearance” Jason vehemently denies, arms still crossed.

“Are you sure about that?” Babs��� voice pipes up over the comms.

A hologram forms above Batman’s gauntlet computer. The hologram shows a picture of Jason in his Red Hood costume without his helmet grinning at the camera. He’s holding up the camera selfie style and seems to be in one of the alleys of Crime Alley.

The most intriguing part of the picture is the figure next to Jason on the ground. There, in clear view, lies the dead body of the Joker. His head seems to be caved in in a way that shows he most likely died on impact, hit by something that had a lot of force.

Jason pauses at the sight of one of his most precious keepsakes.

“Of course you hacked my phone” He scoffs, clearly unhappy.

Jason turns back to look at the Bats and watches their reactions to the revelation the Joker is most certainly dead. Dick seems to have some sort of weight lifted off of his shoulders. Cass doesn’t give anything away.

Damian is unimpressed, scoffing at the hologram and likely already mentally criticizing the technique. Steph seems to be more relaxed, “Damn, Jason, this totally looks like that one Grant Gustin next to the grave meme,” while Tim seems to be having some kind of world-shattering epiphany.

He then eyes Batman’s tense posture. Jason shifts slightly, getting ready to fight if it comes to it.

“Red Hood. Did you kill the Joker?” Batman grinds out slowly, pinning Jason with a soul-piercing stare. Jason carefully eyes Batman’s tightened fists before locking eyes with him again.

“No,” Jason answers honestly.

Jason and Batman are locked in a stare-down, neither speaking another word. The tense silence goes on for a few seconds before it’s broken by Dick casually putting his arm around Jason’s shoulders in a friendly gesture.

“Welp. Seems like he didn’t do it, B. If he says he didn’t, I believe him.” Dick speaks up.

Jason and Batman both untense a little, the moment broken. Jason lets out a small grumble and shrugs Dick’s arm off his shoulders. Dick lets him with a smile.

“Wait, so you just found his body dead in a ditch somewhere? I called it!” Steph pipes up.

She holds her hand up for a high-five. Cass gives her one.

Jason shrugs nonchalantly “You could say that.”

“You may not have killed him, but it’s clear you’re covering for the actual murderer. Who is it and why are you protecting them?” Batman asks, not letting it go.

“You may not believe me, B, but it was just a freak accident as far as I could tell.”

If you call a meta one-punching the Joker in self-defense a ‘freak accident’.

It’s not like Danny meant to do it. Ergo: accident.

“Nothing more, nothing less. I found him like that. All I did was get rid of the body and wipe some cams. Not that those would have been much helpful if let unwiped anyway.” He shrugs, unconcerned.

“Do you know what caused the files to become corrupted this way? I’ve seen corrupted files before, but this is something else…” Babs says over the comms, tone curious.

“Nah, they were like that even before I wiped them. Might have something to do with whatever took the fucker out. Don’t know though, and I don’t care.I’m just glad the city’s finally rid of that bastard.”

“Amen to that!”

Batman’s glare moves over from Jason to Tim, who meets his gaze headfirst and just gives him an unimpressed stare in return.

“You gotta be honest, B. There’s not really anyone gonna be missing him…”

“Now, if that’s all. I gotta go. I’ve got some work to do, cases to solve, groceries to buy. Y’know, not everyone has the freedom to walk around dressed as furries beating up bad guys 24/7. Some of us have a life.” Jason cuts in.

“And since when are you the one to have a life outside of being a vigilante?”

“Oh, you know, since somewhere around the time my gruesome murder was finally avenged,” Jason says sarcastically.

“Who knew that that would be something that would make it feel like a weight is lifted off of your shoulders and that it would finally bring some peace into your life?

“Let me know if you find the guy who did it, okay? Feel like this was a great service to the community and it deserves a nice reward. Might bake ‘em a cake or something. Maybe some cookies… ” Jason pretends to think.

“Where’s the body?” Batman asks, ignoring Jason’s sarcasm.

“And when are you going to introduce us to your new partner?” Dick chimes in as well.

“Not telling you, and never if I can help it. Now, goodbye.” Jason grinds out before leaving.

Jason turns and runs to the edge of the building, making his way over to the next building and leaving the Bats behind on the roof. As he gets farther away from the other vigilantes, the last thing he hears is Steph speaking up.

“Is it just me or did that conversation involve a lot less… green-eyed rage than I expected?”

Now, it’s time to plan that next date…

---

Taglist:

@i-always-say-yea @uraniumwizard @why-must-i-be-like-this @griffinthing @i23432i @imsotiredfanficlovertm

[mybrainsrottingwithmcd]

hi!! so i’m. really really new to the aphmau fandom, aka i was super into it when i was like 8 and now my autistic ass got back into and actually joined in fandom stuff

i don’t. entirely understand how to guide through the aphmau fandom on tumblr. and i have a few questions- if you wouldn’t find can you answer them for me since you seem to be super into this!

what is an MCD rewrite and where do i find them- i assumed it’s people rewriting minecraft diaries but what sparked this and why?

what’s with the hate for aaron and aarmau- i don’t. fully understand it

how did garroth/lawrence happen (i love the idea)

is there like. a masterlist of aphmau lore somewhere so i can make sure i didn’t miss anything in my rewatch (i definitely missed stuff in my rewatch)

Hello hello!! Welcome to the fandom (we’re so sorry ur here its a mess)

I’d be happy to answer ur questions :D

“what is an MCD rewrite and where do i find them- i assumed it's people rewriting minecraft diaries but what sparked this and why?”

Yeah you’re right a MCD rewrite is people rewriting MCD and adding their own ships or improvements or different plot points. It started because the original MCD is kinda written poorly. Some plot points go nowhere, some parts are problematic, some parts drag on, characters appear and disappear, characters stopped developing and most importantly MCD has no ending and was abruptly discontinued by Jess so she could focus on Mystreet and other projects. People just wanna improve and finish the thing that means so mich to them basically. You can find them on AO3 and a few on Wattpad (I recommend AO3 tho its easier to find rewrites ur interested in cuz the tag system)

“what's with the hate for aaron and aarmau- i don't. fully understand it”

(There arent enough words in this world to explain my hatred for aarmau and aaron BUT)

Many reasons heres the main few: when Aaron was introduced he was supposed to be a side character but then he became a love interest kinda outta nowhere (my theory as to why is because Jess’s husband Jason voices him) and when he did become a love interest other characters like Laurence and Garroth kinda stopped developing and became worse to justify why Aaron was a good choice for Aphmau. For me they never had any chemistry in MCD, when its revealed Aphmau is pregnant with Aaron’s kid my brain logged out because wtffff how did they find the time and also why Aaron ://. He wasn’t kinda boring, his angsty past could’ve been used more but wasn’t he was just a brooding masked figure who followed Aphmau around. Then Pheonix Drop High happened and made things really weird. So when Aaron was 18 going on 19 he started dating Aphmau who was 14. Very creepy much yuck, they didn’t communicate well and then his whole character became that he’s in love with Aphmau but “he’s just not good enough for her :((“ and “i shouldn’t be with her shes perfect” and personally i find romance dramas infuriating, especially that kind of drama. AND YES AS A 18YR OLD U SHOULDNT BE DATING A 14YR OLD WELL DONE AARON. Mystreet they were the annoying lovey dovey couple with relationship drama they just rubbed me the wrong way in that series, I stopped watching after Emerald Secret and only recently forced myself to finish Mystreet and yeah no idc about them or their relationship. In MCD season 3 when Shad was introduced as a full character his whole thing is he’s Aaron again but evil and Aphmau’s sad about it and uuuuugg i dont caaareee. And I personally thought Aphmau wasn’t gunna end with anyone in MCD because she went on multiple rants about how that isn’t what she’s looking for and she has to think about her people first and she prefers her own company and then BOOM gets pregnant of masky mcsad face. Ugh. Basically Aaron ruined everything.

(Aroacemau truther 4 life aarmau hater 4 life)

“how did garroth/lawrence happen (i love the idea)”

Garrence has been a ship since the characters were introduced and quite simply its because they have more chemistry together than with Aphmau. I’ve always been a lil uncomfortable with how Jess wrote Laurence and Aphmau’s interactions and Garroth and Aphmau’s interactions but Garroth and Laurence interactions were just more natural they had more banter they were sweet together. Then Jess did a bunch of queerbaiting with it and the ship got bigger, so many fanarts so many fanfics. Then it just never happened because Jess is a coward. Like it would’ve been so nice to see the hints and chemistry go somewhere but it didn’t. Everyone still holds hope tho. With rewrites Garrence is Canon :))

“is there like. a masterlist of aphmau lore somewhere so i can make sure i didn't miss anything in my rewatch (i definitely missed stuff in my rewatch)”

i have no idea on that one, i’ve rewatched MCD every other week for the past 8 years (autism go brrrrr) i’ve never had to look for a masterlist of lore BUT I’m sure someone has to have compiled one somewhere either on the fandom wiki or on Tumblr somewhere. :))

ANYWAYS YEAH WELCOME TO HELL HAVE FUN HERE

[the-ayakashi-in-me]

If Spring is here, can Winter be far behind?

Summary:

"I may not be chosen by God. But I have been chosen by fate."

The disappearance of Crown Prince Satoru Gojo, all but leaves the Empire in disarray. With no one else fit to inherit the throne, Princess Shiyori Gojo must now take on the challenge of finding her brother and being the Emperor chosen by fate.

Starring: SatoSugu, Nanami x OC, Naoya x OC and practically everyone from JJK.

Genre: ANGST, isekai au, drama, fluff (eventually), and whatever genre you use to feed your delusions.

Warnings: JJK is a warning on its own, toxic relationships, violence, a little gore, probable eventual smut, MANGA SPOILERS, established relationship, ANGST, mental illness, characters might be a little OOC. (Lemme know if I've missed anything)

A/N: Did I just re-emerge outta nowhere? Kinda. Did I finish my previous series? No. Will that stop me from starting a new one? Also no. Anyway, welcome to my new series, which is basically my delulu isekai version of JJK where everyone is happy and more importantly ALIVE. As always constructive criticism is always welcome. And reblogs are highly appreciated.

 Series Masterlist:

Gloom

Yuta wondered if this was a funeral. Because it certainly didn’t feel like a coronation. What else could it be? In the empire’s defence, the citizens were all in mourning. The loss of their beloved Crown Prince had come as too much of a shock. No one could have ever foretold, that the preeminent Satoru Gojo would just altogether cease to exist one day. 

After all, he was the child of prophecy, the child of magnitude; that sanctified the Akutami Empire by just being born. The one, Goddess Utahime herself had endowed with greatness—the one drowning in quintessence.

Naturally, next to him, Princess Shiyori paled in comparison without a doubt. She had no unique gifts, no particular talents, no extraordinarity. Worst of all, she was a woman. The only thing she had going on for her, was that she was born into royalty. However, that too, along with everything else was attributed to her impartial luck.��

When someone like that, was suddenly proclaimed the next Emperor, anguish and opposition were all but expected. The whole kingdom was in protest. “She’s not strong enough. She’s not tall enough. She’s not man enough.” 

Yuta gracefully rolled his princely eyes. Of course, she wasn’t man enough. She was a woman, after all. And she was the most resilient woman, he had ever known. It was stupid, selfish and rude to expect her to be a man. But, how and where do you even begin to explain these sentiments to this brainwashed crowd? You can’t, simply because they won’t listen. 

But, Yuta wasn’t here for that today. He wasn’t here to sway the hearts of his people. He was here for his sister. This was her coronation now, her ascension. Yes, this coronation was meant for the Crown Prince, his questionably beloved teacher. But the Crown Prince was not around and someone must ascend the throne today.

Princess Shiyori, with tear-stained eyes, had pleaded with him to take on the role. “Even if you are an illegitimate child, our people will always have far more faith in you, than they will in me.” 

Yuta didn’t remember much that had transpired that day, after all the whole kingdom was set a buzz with the disappearance of the Crown Prince. He too had been a part of the search party. The tremendous exhaustion and anguish of losing someone precious had him reeling on his own two feet. 

However, even in that state, his conviction did not falter. “Yes. I know. But…I’m sorry Shiyori. I cannot bring myself to do it.”, and that tore down the walls he so carefully built while growing up in the palace. That day, he wept over the loss of a brother, a mentor and a friend. He wept over his incompetence, his disappointment, his selfishness, for it only burdened his venerated sister. That day he wept till he could weep no more, all the while, Princess Shiyori held him together in her gentle and warm embrace. 

“I’m sorry I asked you to do something so arduous. I won’t ask again.”

“No…I’m sorry for putting you in a quandary.”

That day, Yuta mourned a lot of things. But not even for a moment did he grieve over the fate of the empire. After watching that kind smile spread over her face that day, he knew the empire was in good hands. For he knew, Shiyori Gojo was far more capable than he and him combined.

Fifty-seven years. That’s how long High Priest Gakuganji had been in service of the great Utahime. All this time, and yet he was farther than ever, in comprehending the divine. He had previously crowned two monarchs. Today he was supposed to crown the Crown Prince. But, “Utahime works in mysterious ways, your Majesty.” he attempted to console the previous Emperor. 

However, there is little that can console a father mourning the loss of his oldest child. Not that he was the best father. No, he’d been too selfish for that. But he was always proud of his children. 

He was proud of Satoru, he had every chance to become like his father, but he didn’t. Every day he lived up to all the lofty standards the prophecy had burdened him with. He reigned victorious in the War of A Hundred Demons. He even took his illegitimate brother under his wing.  He was the empire’s hero, his ancestors’ pride.   

He was also proud of Yuta. Yes, his mother came from a humble background. And yes, he suffered an unsurmountable amount of grief at a very young age. However, once he was able to overcome that, he fit right in the palace. Honestly, when it came to royal etiquette, he left Satoru far behind. Truth, be told, the empire would be far from distraught if he were to become the Emperor. But, Yuta never wanted the throne. He was happy being appointed as the Viscount of Okkotsu.

And Shiyori, he was proud of her too, wasn't he? Satoru was eight when Shiyori was born. She was frail since birth. Born under a Heavenly Pact, her cursed mana was insanely high, however, as is with most pacts, her weak body wasn’t built to handle the power. She nearly died when she was ten, the first and last time she used her power. After that incident, both he and Satoru forbade her from using cursed mana. So she didn’t, she was home-schooled. To top it all she suffered from chronic respiratory illness. 

His majesty heaved a heavy sigh. No, he couldn’t remember a single instance where he was proud of his daughter. He was always worried, always apprehensive when it came to his middle child. Shiyori could topple over with a strong breeze, and yet (despite the two sturdy ones he had), Utahime deemed this child to be fit for the throne? Well, he could now empathize with his citizens.  

© to the-ayakashi-in-me. Please do not repost, copy, steal or translated without permission.

[chidoroki]

182 Days of TPN - Day 3

Chapter 3: “The Iron Woman”

Now then, could I possibly pass up the chance to talk about my favorite villain when there’s a whole chapter named after her? NOPE! The moment when Isabella confronts Emma in the hallway is enough to put anyone on edge just because of the danger, trouble and everything sinister she represents radiates such a strong energy. And yes I’m sorry, I believe the anime did this scene better too, if only because the first moment was just so instant! We got Norman calmly walking down the hall, pause quickly as we then see Emma’s surprised face then BAM! Your biggest fear judging your every move in hopes that you crack and break down in defeat. Yeah the manga has the literal nightmare show up outta nowhere as well, but with how the panel is placed on the left side, you’re sure to catch a glimpse of it when you first turn the previous page, so some of the surprise factor kinda disappears since you have to read the right before you even get there, ya know?

Don’t get me wrong, while having this series’ equivalent of the grim reaper staring at you so intensely still makes for a very powerful panel, I just feel it would’ve worked better had it been on the other side, that’s all.

Naturally I gotta give praise to both ladies during this scene because of how efficiently they’re both testing each other. Emma knows mother dearest is betraying them and Isabella has her suspicions at this point about who might know the house’s secret, but they both convince each other that everything is fine in the world and it’s just another normal day. They’re so good it sends poor Norman into a panic.

This also serves as Emma’s first encounter alone with Isabella after Conny’s shipment and I think she handled it so well. She learned to be a master actor from the very best and real quick might I add! Not to mention that Emma’s performance was practically perfect as Isabella basically shrugs it off and continues her day.

Favorite panel/moment:

All seriousness aside, we got this silly little panel!

It’s probably one of my favorite panels of Norman since his expression is so priceless. No doubt that Emma is capable of dragging him everywhere if she wanted.

[merelydaydreaming]

i remember all the writer friends I've made over the years across various platforms, and im deeply grateful that you were all my friends. I'm also sorry that i tend to disappear outta nowhere, but i remember you always.

[gangtheway]

ooh do Banshee and Dreadful. oh and also Zombie if you want

Ask Received: Oct 24, 2022

Referencing This Post

Banshee - Have you ever had a paranormal encounter? If so, do tell!

ok so there are 2 instances i can think of that could be seen as paranormal:

One time, I was alone at home. I looked through the open door to my parents' room, and saw some dude I didn't know. I ran to get my phone and called a friend and kept her on the phone as I went to investigate. He was nowhere to be found.

Kinda boring. Probably either my imagination or a home invader.

I was in my room. A rhythmic tapping sound had been coming from my closet every so often over the past few days, but it was happening a lot more constantly at this time. It sounded a bit like how morse code sounded in movies, so I jokingly said 'i don't know morse code, so just tap twice if you're a ghost'. The tapping stopped. Then. Tap, tap. The silence continued.

I didn't know what to do with this since I legitimately didn't expect that, so I just said 'well, I'm not learning morse code, so stop that.'

My closet never made that sound again.

The rest go under a Read More, since I'm sure I'm already annoying the hell outta my followers tonight

Dreadful - What’s your deepest fear?

I feel like it's impossible for me to answer this question truthfully without being a huge fucking downer and showing (more of) my mental issues

Most of my fears aren't too severe. I can grit my teeth and muscle through most things that unnerve me, like puppets. Other things are just unpleasant to me, like sensory overload shit, and can get a fight-or-flight response.

But I think the thing I fear most is just fucking up.

Or rather, I fear people's reactions to me fucking up.

I am afraid that people will react like my dad did whenever I messed up; using that instance to call everything I have ever said or done into question, acting like I am helpless without others to lean on, doing it maliciously. There were times that he would call up a number of times that I messed up, and assert that it was a concerted effort on my part to manipulate those around me into doing what I wanted.

Every time I make a mistake, whether it is forgetting to signal before I merge lanes, sleeping in, forgetting a conversation, forgetting a birthday, interrupting someone, forgetting a name, not knowing something I'm expected to know, or not having my life together. I worry about how much resentment it causes in the people around me.

When it's particularly bad, I end up disappearing from places for months at a time.

But to sum it up, my biggest fear is being a hurtful person that everyone secretly despises.

I'm getting better, but I relapse from time to time. I had a nice refresher from the source last weekend, so I have been thinking about this and how it's shaped my life to this point. So, sorry for the heaviness and the oversharing?

Zombie - How long do you think you’d survive if a zombie apocalypse happened?

oh this is a lighter one for me

SO. let's take a step back and ask 'how zombie apocalypse-savvy am I?

well, I'm no prepper, but I read a thing that broke down more basics at some point. like 'put on a wetsuit, wrap that wetsuit in duct tape' to not get bitten. which sounds super uncomfortable but whatever. [bear grills voice: you must do what it takes to survive]

I'm not good at growing food, i'm not particularly athletic, and i'm pretty nearsighted. and i'd have a pretty shitty withdrawal period from my meds. it's been years since i've practiced any sort of self-defense, and my sick roundhouse kicks can only go so far before i get chomped

but in the shows, it always comes down to people skills!

i know i say i'm bad at people, but that's like. in the genuine way. in the way where you talk to people about interests and share yourself.

but you know what i'm fairly decent at? filling in a role

and in this situation, i'd end up being a conflict mediator of, probably. so long as i ended up in a group that didn't hate-crime me on sight.

my adhd and tendency towards staying up at night would make me a decent lookout, and i'm fairly cooperative if given clear instructions/goals, so i think i'd last as long as the group did, so long as we made it to some sorta sustainable shelter

but on my own?

shit man, maybe a couple days?

[justashthewriter]

hi! i love your writing sm! and from one bilingual to another, your english is so good 😩!!

i was wondering if i could request a fic where bakugous s/o has the habit of wondering off in stores.

like she’ll wonder off if something catches her eye in the store and then suddenly pop up to show him something cool she saw before disappearing again cause she saw something else.

sorry if that didn’t make sense 😅

~angel (is it okay if i sign off w this name?)

(ps hope you’re having a great day/night/evening!)

Look at this!

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader (F)

Genre: headcanons + imagine + bonus

Warnings/rating: fluff, a bit of crack fic, swearing

Summary: You often find cool things at the store, and Bakugou often grumble about it.

Notes: Awe, thank you angel! Of course, you can use that name. Also, I really love this prompt, hope you’ll like my writing. :)

Edit: Also, I’m writing this in a train, and when tf did we get there? :D

Edit2: There was a grandma with a baby waving! That was so sweet!

Edit3: There was a couple in the middle of nowhere on a walk and it was so cute! And also another couple with their dog, and I can’t, too much fluff today.

Words: 555 (hell yeah!)

I think Bakugou hates spending too much time in the store. He will write everything he needs and won’t take anything else.

Shopping longer became a thing for him after he started dating you. Not for too long, but I think he’ll spend a little more time when alone because he’ll see something that reminds him of you and will buy it (either for you or himself).

When shopping with you, he’ll spend as much time in the store as you want. Won’t question anything.

Secretly, he loves seeing you happy when you show him stuff, but will act as if it annoyed the shit outta him. Sometimes he buys the thing you showed him and gives it to you.

“It just reminded me of your annoying ass, idiot. No idea why I bought it for you.”

Don’t tease him in front of others, tho, he “won’t buy you anything anymore”. Give him a week, and he’ll come with another thing you said you want.

Now, imagine going to the store with him for the first time. So…

He could swear you were just there a few seconds ago, and now you’re gone. How could he not notice when you disappeared. And where the fuck did you even go?!

“Katsu!” he turned around and saw you holding a cup with a cat, “it’s so cute! Can we buy this for Aizawa sensei?”

Bakugou inhaled and looked at you with a death stare. He took the cup out of your hands and placed it in the cart.

“You’re so annoying sometimes, you know that?”

And puff. You weren’t there, again! C’mon, don’t do this to him, he just wants to shop in peace. As he was reaching for another thing, you appeared next to him with another thing. Poor boy almost had a heart attack.

“Look at this All Might Limited Cupcakes Set!” he couldn’t say no to yours puppy eyes.

And again, you were gone. He had enough and got everything he needed as quick as possible. When he was done, he looked for you and couldn’t find you. Is this some kind of quirk or what?

“Kats…” he interrupted you, “where have you been?! I looked through the whole store!”

Your smile fell and the look you gave him broke his heart. He didn’t want to yell at you, but you scared the hell outta him.

“Sorry,” you were looked on your shoes, “sometimes I just see something interesting and…”

Strong arms enveloped you, bringing you closer to the blonde. He kissed your forehead and stroked your hair.

“Sorry for yelling,” he whispered, “next time just tell me.”

You nodded, nuzzling closer to him: “I’m sorry, too. Should’ve told you before.”

Let’s just say you left with a few things you didn’t plan on buying.

Bonus:

“Sensei? Do you want a coffee?” you asked your teacher when he came to the kitchen.

He nodded, sitting on the chair. You took out the cup you bought with Bakugou and made him his drink. On your way to the table, you prayed he wouldn’t mind.

“Here!” you gave him the cup and left to hind behind the door.

Aizawa took a sip when he noticed it wasn’t his usual cup. A small smile appeared on his lips.

“These kids.”

Ash, 22.5.2022

[pastelpasteru]

Hello! It's me again hehe. May I request for a one-shot story of the timeskip!Miya twins x reader (separate) where the twins and the reader met each other again 1-2 years after the reader left the boys (after ONS). This is a bit suggestive but you don't have to be explicit O///O. Oh! Also, the twins developed feelings for the reader and were kind of furious at the latter for leaving them after what happened. O///O

I am flushed now so I have to go >///<. I hope you have a great day. Thanks in advance ^___^

➧ Thanks for the request! Here you go. ╰(*´︶`*)╯ @queenelleee

➧ Sorry for the long wait! I was busy these days, school's almost starting, again. (;ŏ﹏ŏ)

➧ Deep apologies if this sucks, I didn't really know what to write here.. ヘ（。□°）ヘ

➧ This isn't really angsty, nor suggestive. I kinda made it into a mainly fluff theme. (｢`･ω･)｢

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Meeting the Miya Twins (Separate) again after having a ONS with them before.

˚₊· Slight Angst - Fluff - Suggestive • Timeskip!Miya Twins (Separate) × GN!Reader • Oneshot//Scenario

˚₊· Warnings — Slightly suggestive content, BTW! Mistakes are present, much appreciated if you ignore them! (*´ω｀*)

˚₊· Requests? Sure, I accept those! Feel free to drop 'em! Though I am not sure that I'll do it.. ┐(´ー｀)┌

—Miya A.

[🌸//💎] —· Unexpected. T'was all you had in mind when you saw the great Miya Atsumu once again inside a café you're currently having lunch at.

He's with his teammates, also having lunch when he caught sight of you, immediately moving to your table to strike a conversation.

“Y/n.” He calls to you as he settled down to his seat, a grin plastered on his face, looking excited to talk with you.

“Oh, hey Atsumu.” You simply muttered, taking a sip from your drink, watching Atsumu chuckle.

“It's been a while since we met.” You continued, watching Atsumu scrunch his face, taking a deep sigh.

“Yeah, 's been a while...” He nodded, letting silence take over for a minute before breaking it.

“...Where've ya been since that day? Ya left me outta nowhere.” Says Atsumu in a dry tone, voice rising as he emphasized the last part.

Realizing what he's talking about, you had a small blush creep up your face as you recalled the way he kissed you, his hot touch, and the way he thrusted inside you—. Ahem.

“Huh? I went home, of course. Y'know, just how I'm supposed to do after that one night stand of ours..” Saying this to Atsumu flatly, the setter frowned.

“One night stand? Y/n, I—are ya really that oblivious to not notice everythin'?” Clenching his jaw shut after finishing his sentence, Atsumu's eyes glinted in dismay.

“What do you mea.....Oh.” Letting out an 'oh,' you went back through your memories and recalled everything.

From how Atsumu always ask you out—not knowing that it's a date, to how you failed to notice how passionate he was on that ONS.

“..Sorry,” Looking down in embarrassment, you bit your lower lip and apologized.

“Y/n, do ya know how hurt I was when I woke on that day without ya on my side?” He asked, receiving no answer from you. And from his tone, he really is hurt.

“I thought that you'd be stayin' with me—with ya by my side forever ever since that day..” Continuing to let his feelings out to you who fell into a hole filled with guilt, Atsumu sighed.

“I really like you, ya know? Even today, that feelings of mine still didn't disappear.” Confessed Atsumu, making your eyes widen.

“Wow.. Atsumu—I-I didn't know that I made a big impact on your life...” Muttering your words, you took a glance to Atsumu and flashed a weak smile to him.

“But... I'm glad that you like me, up until now. 'Cause I too, have feelings for you.” Whispering this, the blonde immediately looked at you with glossy eyes, shocked.

“Y-Ya do!? N..No kidding...?” Stammers the setter, a smile taking over his face when he saw you slowly nod your head. “Yes Atsumu..”

“Oh crap—can I.. C-Can I be yers, then..?” Says Atsumu, wearing his signature smirk to cover up his fuzzy, nervous mind.

“Mhm? ..Of course, Tsumu. I'm yours, too.” Answering his question with a smile, a happy laughter then escaped Atsumu's mouth.

“Damn—I love ya, so so much, I fuckin' do..!” He announced, taking your hand and pressing his lips on your palm, giving you a gentle kiss. “I love you too, Tsumu.”

—Miya O.

[🌸//💎] —· Saturday, a nice day to go out and hang out—or more like be dragged by your friend for lunch. To where? Onigiri Miya.

The shop that Miya Osamu owns, the man who you had a ONS with last year, a good friend.

“C'mon, Y/n! It's no big deal, you said it was just a one night stand..!” Your friend groaned, pulling you by force to cross the road, to Onigiri Miya that stands quietly on the other side.

“...Its's not a big deal, so let's go! We're just gonna eat anyways.” They noted, making a scene in the middle of the road with you who struggled to pull away.

“Oh go—...FINE! But after we eat, we're going home.” Finally agreeing with a loud exhale, you let yourself be dragged inside the said shop by your friend. “Alright!”

“...Welcome to Onigiri Miya, what can I get for ya—..?” Greeted someone who's named Miya Osamu, voice suddenly cutting off when his eyes laid on you.

“Ooh! [quantity] [onigiri flavor] for us, please.” They answered for you, hand still on your wrist as you hid behind them, avoiding Osamu's gaze.

“A-Ah.. Sure, comin' right up....” Coughed Osamu, making the dish as he stole another glance to you as you sat down with your friend.

“Ugh.. [Friend name], this is so awkward right now, I wanna leave!” You whisper-shouted to your friend, not knowing that your words didn't escape Osamu's ears.

“Leave? Yer gonna leave me, Again? Just like before, Y/n?” Osamu whispered in a rough voice, his eyes looking down in sadness as you fell in silence with your nosy friend.

“..Osamu...” Swallowing your words back, you bit on your lower lips as you looked down, guilty.

“..Uhh—ahem, I-I'll just use the bathroom for a moment... I'll leave you two alone first.” Said [friend name], excusing themselves as you mouthed an oppose to them.

“..Sorry...” You muttered, apologizing to the younger Miya who paused for a moment, eyes travelling to yours.

“For what..? Leaving me that day?” He asked, receiving a small nod from you.

“..Yeah, sorry.” Apologizing again, Osamu shrugged and asked another question.

“But... Why'd ya leave though? Were ya unsatisfied?” Asked the male, the corner of his lips curving into a smirk when he saw you break a fuse.

“O-Osamu..! I-It's not that—I just....” Thinking of the right words, you went on to explain the reason to Osamu.

“I didn't want to bother you, so I left.. I'll be a nuisance to you if I stayed anyways....” Scratching your neck in awkwardness, you muttered your words to Osamu who seemed to frown.

“Look, Y/n.. Yer never a nuisance to me,” He stated before taking a small pause. Smiling warmly to you, a rare thing he does.

“...‘Nd that's because I fuckin' like—no, love ya, dummy.” Flicking your forehead, Osamu confessed his feelings out before handling you the tray with the onigiris. “W—Wha—..!?”

“Sshh.. Let's go out later after I close the shop. I hope ya don't mind waitin' for some hours..” Shushing you, Osamu hummed as you stared at him, flushed. Robotically nodding your head as an answer. “S-Sure..”

“..I love you too, Osamu...” Dreamily sighing, you let a few words spill out your mouth before facing away from Osamu who had a smile plastered on his face.

˚₊· Thank you for reading! Likes, reblogs, and follows are highly appreciated. (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

˚₊· Writing angst isn't really my thing—nor is for me... Hehe. (´；ω；｀)

˚₊· Wanna send feedback, or messages? DM me here at Tumblr or at my Instagram and Facebook account, Pastel Pasteru. (｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

[🌸//💎] REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!

© Pastel Pasteru, 2021, please do not copy my contents or I'll come after you. Thanks.

[shurisneakers]

shut in [8]

Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Reader, Hitman AU)

Warnings: cursing, implied abuse, death, implied ptsd, injuries, guns, anxiety

Word count: 4.2k

A/N: oh my god oh my god sam stans how are we feeling djkghdfjkhgdf. no thoughts only sam wilson in ep1 of tfatws <333

i also appreciate feedback so if you would like to, please consider dropping me an ask or comment ly guys!! 

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Shut In Masterlist

“Hey, I’m just going to step out for today.” You looked up from the doodle you were making on the corner of the paper. “Catch you later? Just find me if you need anything.”

“You okay?” You automatically sat up straighter, blanket creasing under you. Something was amiss in his body language.

“Yeah, just-” He seemed like he was struggling for words. “-Brooklyn.”

You didn’t get what he was making a reference to until it suddenly dawned on you.

It was the codeword he had suggested right at the beginning of your time in the house. If he was in danger you were sure he’d tell you, at least an inkling of information.

But no, this was for some time alone, further confirmed by the distant look in his eyes.

“Oh.” You blinked. “Take all the time you need. I’ll be here if you need.”

He gave you a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, turning around and leaving the room.

You were left staring after him, the drawing you were making of the house layout discarded on the bed. You were working on strategies, vantage points- anything that could help in case something went wrong.

Was it because of the dumb ‘moment’ you had shared two days ago? It didn’t seem like it because he hadn’t brought it up at all and God knows you would never. Was it something else that had happened, something you did?

Stop overthinking. He probably just needs a day to himself.

You had spent almost a month in each other’s company and he had never once complained. He had a tendency to be petty about minor inconveniences, like you trying to watch a movie when his favourite segment on the local news channel was going on. He liked the cooking show they hosted.

He had never made it a point to specifically tell you that he needed some time to himself, much less use the word.  

“Get yourself together,” you whispered to yourself, shaking off the nagging feeling you had.

If he had an issue, he would have voiced it. He never shied away from doing that before and you knew he wouldn’t start now.

You forced yourself to think about something else, grabbing the copy of American Gods you had already gone over once before but were subjecting to a reread. Opening the page you had last left it at, you were determined to distract yourself.

Nearly twenty minutes later and exactly zero pages since you had started, you realised that no matter how much you forced yourself to get into it, you went over the same line over and over again, not a single word registering in your head.

“Motherfucker,” you groaned, letting the book fall on your face. You took a long look outside the window, mind drifting.

It was a nice day out. Maybe some sun would help.

You lifted your legs off the bed, taking your book with you to the kitchen. You could get a nice sandwich-- the same as the last three fuckin’ weeks but you digressed-- a glass of water, and you could sit outside for a while. A mini picnic.

You opened a new packet of sliced bread, taking two out before stopping. You pondered over whether you should make him a sandwich for when he returned, knowing that he didn’t eat lunch before he left.

You thought about it for a good minute before rolling your eyes, pulling out two additional slices to make him one as well. It was just a sandwich. It wasn’t a big deal.

Tucking your book under your arm, you carried your lunch and a glass of water to the patio around the back.

The wind rustled the leaves and the sun wasn’t harsh. The low buzz of insects was the only sound that kept you company.

The air was crisp and you instantly felt better than you had all day in the room.

Setting your stuff down on the bench, you sat down, inhaling deeply.

The book suddenly didn’t seem so impossible to complete as you tried once more, slipping into the pages easily. Even after you finished your food, you continued to lounge about there, too engrossed and content to move.

You didn’t notice the afternoon go by, evening coming and going just as swiftly. You swatted at the occasional fly but nothing else bothered you.

It felt like summer break. At least what you thought it would feel like. You never had one, being homeschooled about things from various people in the organization. There wasn’t a singular, long break. You were just forced to adapt.

You didn't know how to deal with the suffocating realisation of knowing there were so many things you missed out on. It grew the longer you spent time away. You just shoved it away, forcing yourself to deal with it another day.

He comes back when the sky is slipping into shades of orange, a backpack on his shoulder. There was a patch of sweat around his neck and his head was hung low as he walked.

“Hey,” you hoped it didn't look like you were waiting for him. It could easily be taken as you camping out there, waiting for your husband to return from a hard day in the fields.

Sam looked up at your greeting. You noted that the bruise on his nose was starting to change colour but the swelling had reduced from how bad it used to be.

“Left you a sandwich on the counter if you’re hungry,” you added. He nodded in acknowledgement, making his way up the stairs and into the house without another word.

You let out an exhale, feeling a little better knowing that he was at least back in one piece. No reason to believe otherwise other than the anxiety you had developed over imagining the worst case scenarios.

You picked up your book again, intending to finish off the last bit before you went back inside for the day.

About half an hour later Sam re-emerged from the house, your attention snapping to him as the door opened and shut. He had changed into a new pair of clothes, looking a little cleaner like he was fresh outta the shower. He had a sandwich in his hand that he had already taken a few bites out of. You wondered if it was the one you left for him.

You didn’t expect him to take a seat next to you on the bench. He didn’t look at you or open his mouth to talk so you followed suit. You continued reading, or at least tried to, as he just sat there, finishing his sandwich without any kind of other interaction.

There was a strange tension he wasn’t addressing. He instead leaned back, arms crossed behind his neck to support his neck and closed his eyes. His foot tapped against the wooden floor and rather than getting annoyed, you found solace in the repetition.

“They recruited me on this day,” Sam said to no one in particular. His eyes were still closed and his feet still tapped against the ground. “Parents died when I was a kid, I got shifted around orphanages and homes a lot. Finally Ransone had someone pick me up.”

You closed your book softly, setting it down beside you. That’s what was bothering him.

Secret adoption is what they called it officially in the business, but around the organization it was just known as the recruitment process. Every record of Sam being alive would have been destroyed to maintain anonymity.

To the world he just… disappeared.

It was a day that clearly brought with it so much pain. You were too young to remember when you joined, and no one had kept track either. You supposed it was for the good.

It was supposed to be a happy day, one filled with new beginnings. Maybe that’s what he would have thought when he got picked. It’s what you did.

“I’m sorry,” you said, not having anything else to offer. You relieved your memories everyday in your head. Having a morbid anniversary of sorts would no doubt drain the life out of you; remembering one singular day that would trigger the rest of the decisions you made in your life.

He didn’t say anything in return. You turned your attention to the sky, finding it easier to look at that than the disturbed look on his face.

“Do you regret this?” he asked out of the blue.

“All of it,” you replied, without skipping a beat.

“Every single one, huh?” Sam’s one eye opened to peer at you.

“It wasn’t up to me to take someone’s life away.” You were just a child. You knew nothing other than what you were taught; so then why was it so fucking hard to forgive your past self for straying into this. “Even once I realised that I couldn’t leave.”

You didn’t form any relationships while you worked with Ransone. Whoever you did allow yourself to care for ended up dead or worse, sometimes as a cruel lesson to not make friends in the organization you worked in because all they served as were distractions and liabilities. Others were plain scum; people who you knew were using you but you didn’t care. The loneliness hurt worse.

“What about you?”

“I’d give anything to go back and change things,” he admitted. He didn’t have a say either. It didn’t make things easier.

“You regret all of ‘em too?”

“Mostly,” he said. “One of them I don’t.”

“That one must have deserved it then,” you deduced. It was the only logical explanation you could think of; the worst of the worst.

“Nah. I let him go.”

It took a while to register what he said.

“What?” You twisted your body to look at him.

“First mission I ever did.”

His hands were shaking lightly, barely holding on to the gun. This wasn’t what he was taught. Stay calm. Stay calm. Stay calm.

He had already managed to get his way into the house through the back. His partner had taken care of most of it and Sam only had to knock people out. He hadn’t had to kill anyone yet.

But now his partner was injured outside the door. Quick shot to the leg, a punch in the face and he was out cold. Sam was already in the master bedroom by the time it happened. He had no idea about where his partner was, only the crippling fear of being left alone and the nerves from the threat posed to him if this didn’t go right.

He knew he didn’t have enough time. He had only a few minutes to kill him and get out of there before his family returned.

The man itself was sitting at the study table, his back towards Sam. Just pull the trigger and get out of here. It was deadly silent.

“I know you’re here to kill me,” the man said suddenly. Sam nearly jumped but instead tightened the grip on the gun.

“Stay where you are.” He sounded confident.

“I’m not planning on going anywhere.” His chair swiveled around, letting him face Sam. His hair was white with a beard that matched. He was dressed down in his pajamas, a robe covering him. He didn’t look nervous.

“Stop talking.”

“You’re younger than what I expected,” the man observed, not paying heed to what Sam was in. He was a considerable distance away. “You’re not even legal yet, are you? I got kids, I would know.”

Sam didn’t say a word, only lifted his gun up to align with his forehead. “I said, stop talking.”

“I’ve made mistakes. Several, actually,” he mused, “It’s why your boss sent you here. I’ve accepted my fate.”

“Then it should be easy.”

“Oh, it never is,” the man chuckled. “It doesn’t get lighter. You learn to ignore it but it’ll weigh on you for the rest of your life.”

Sam’s jaw clenched. It would get easier. It had to.

“I doubt that’s what you heard, however,” he continued. “Ransone’s a bit… unstable. It’s in his blood, but you- you don’t look like you could live with it.”

Ransone’s history was well known enough that rival gang leaders knew it too, apparently. The man would have been delighted at his infamous reputation.

Just shoot him. Just shoot him and end this.

“What’s your name?” the man asked, taking a sip from the tumbler he had in his hand. “You’re going to be the last person I talk to. It’d be nice to have a name.”

“Sam,” he whispered, inwardly cursing himself.

“Sam. That’s a strong name,” the man said, clicking the roof of his mouth with his tongue. “Are you sure this is what you want to do, Sam?”

It wasn’t.

“I don’t have a choice.” He hated how defeated he sounded. It was a weakness.

“They want you to believe that. It takes away your freedom. I would know, I’ve used it.” The man smiled, setting down his glass. “I’ll tell you this though, Sam. You always have a choice.”

“Stop talking, man.” Sam pulled the safety off.

“Once you go down this way, there’s no way you can escape. Someone will always have to die; either him or you.”

“That’s not true.” He could leave at any time. He just needed-

“You’ll see for yourself.” The man leaned back on his chair, resigned. “But for now, go ahead. I’ll make it easy for you.”

He simply closed his eyes and sat back.

You waited for Sam to continue.

“Couldn’t do it,” he said, shaking his head lightly. “Son of a bitch got in my head and I knew what he was doing too. Told him to get the fuck out before my partner shot him in the face.”

“Does Ransone know?” You were still reeling from the incident he recounted. You didn't know what else to say.

“Holds it over me every damn day,” he scoffed. “Some fucked up way of saying that I owe him one.”

To be frank, you were surprised Sam was still alive to tell you. Everyone knew that Ransone forgiven the first mistake someone made, but this was huge. If it were anyone else, he would have had someone try out a hundred different ways to push Sam to the brink of death and back; having him begging for the release that death would bring.

“He hasn’t ever cashed in that favour?”

“He did. Had me take out the leader of the Ten Rings after that.”

“So then why did you still continue?”

“I did something extremely dangerous a couple of years ago that he found out about recently. Used that to get me to come for this mission.”

He didn’t elaborate what he meant and you didn’t ask him to. You supposed it was a story for another day. This was heavy enough.

“He wants to get rid of me as much as I want to get away from him, trust me. We’re the weird, toxic relationship those self-help Instagram pages warned you about.” Trust Sam to make a dumb joke during a conversation like this. “Probably the only time someone from the gang let their target go and not died.”

That wasn’t as true as he thought he was but you didn’t want to seem like you were one-upping him. You didn’t want him to think you were making this about you.

“You remember the big break you were talking about?” you tread carefully, gauging his reaction before you continued. “The one that pushed me up the ranks or whatever.”

He gave a small hum of acknowledgement, bringing his hands from behind his head to fold across his chest.

“Similar story, ‘cept Ransone doesn’t know.”

“What?” His eyes shot open. “How?”

“I was so tired of him treating me like a child. Everyone around who joined after me was out there doinghardcore missions and I was stuck with petty shit.” You didn’t know any better. You wished you had. “So he told me if I made it through this one, he’d send me on more.”

This wasn’t your first mission. You had handled hits before, mostly in the shadows, from a distance.

This was different. It was broad daylight, waiting behind a wall near the gated entrance of the house for a car to pull up.

A challenge, Ransone had posed, with strict instructions to do it in broad daylight. If you got out of this undetected, he’d consider sending you on more sophisticated missions.

“Highly stealthy. They’re dangerous,” you were warned. “You won’t know what hit you if you’re caught off your game.”

The low rumble of the car outside the gate alerted you of your target’s arrival. The gates weren’t going to open, the guards were dead.

The car stopped, waiting for the path to open up. When it didn’t the car’s engine slowed to a stop. The man in the driver’s seat got out to open the gate, giving you a clear shot.

You took a deep breath, clenching your eyes shut for a second before taking aim.

The body hit the gravel and you quickly made your way to the car. You could see the woman in the backseat gaping at where the man was standing a few seconds ago. She was struggling against the door, trying to escape.

She finally succeeded, the door opening suddenly as she stumbled over herself trying to get out.

“Stay there,” you commanded. She slowly looked up at you, face white as a sheet.

“Please,” she croaked. “Don’t hurt us.”

“I’m sorry.” You truly were.

Her face changed, dropping the facade immediately. She just looked on in acceptance, not making an effort to move. Manipulative. She almost had you convinced

You held the gun over her, pulling the trigger. A single shot. Her body slumped over.

You stared at her in silence, expressionless. You let out an exhale, tucking the gun back into the waist of your pants, stepping over her body to leave.

A small, staggering breath made you stop in your tracks. It was so slight you barely heard it. You took a step back, trying to trace where it came from.

You ducked your head to peer into the car, your heart stopping. Your hand instinctively reached for your weapon.

“What the-” you muttered, facing a boy who looked only a few years younger than you. He was staring straight ahead, muscles in his jaw tight.

The son wasn’t supposed to be here. He was supposed to be abroad, according to the case file. Unless there were two of them you didn’t know about, this boy wasn’t supposed to be here.

“Listen,” you began, but he didn’t look at you. Just stared straight ahead, body trembling. He was scared. He didn’t show it.

“Show no mercy,” Ransone’s voice rang in your head.

“He’s a child,” you murmured to yourself. Your gun felt heavy in your hand.

Show no mercy.

You could only imagine what would be in store for you if you returned to Ransone with some tale of sympathy. This boy was only a few years younger than you. He didn’t have anything to do with this.

Show no mercy.

“Kid,” you called out. He slowly turned his head. “Go on. Get out of here.”

“What?” he asked, voice hoarse.

“Leave. You can’t be seen if someone comes back,” you urged. “I won’t be able to help you.”

“You killed my mom,” he jeered, unmoving.

“I’m sorry. I had to.” Your voice was quiet. Your hand clutched at the hood of the car to keep your balance. “But I don’t want to hurt you. Go.”

When he didn’t shift, you slammed the hood of the car, scaring him enough to pull at the door and stagger out of the car.

You turned your back to him, not waiting to see where he was going. The more deniability you had, the better.

“Did he make it?”

“He did,” you divulged the information you had found out a while ago. It was a messy confrontation to say the least but you got out unscathed.

“And Ransone doesn’t know.”

“There’s no record of this kid. He thinks he was at boarding school.” You shrugged. “Wasn’t going to correct him either.”

“If he did find out-” Sam trailed off.

“I’d be dead,” you concluded. “Being his favourite wouldn’t matter.”

“Why was it such a big deal, this mission?”

“She was a part of a major gang that Ransone was losing to.”

Sam just nodded knowingly, looking ahead again. You knew he’d done missions like this as well. Things like this were common so it didn’t need further elaboration.

“This job sucks,” he let out.

You gave a short laugh. That was an understatement.

“I want out. Can’t keep doin’ this for much longer,” he continued, however, to your surprise. “Don’t wanna keep doin’ this.”

You bit your lip, eyebrows knitted in concern. “You will.”

“How?” You hadn’t seen him like this before, this hint of desperation in his tone that left as quickly as it came. “I’ve tried, everything just comes up short.”

“I’ll help you.” You wanted to, God you did.

“You gonna kill him for me?” He looked at you. “‘Cause that’s really the only way out of this.”

If you were pushed to the limit, if he was on his knees in front of you and there was a gun in your hand pointed at him; would you be able to pull the trigger? Would you be able to kill the only constant you’d had for more than half your life?

“I can’t,” you muttered, dejection making its way into your thoughts.

“I know,” Sam said softly, “I wouldn’t ask you to either.”

You took a moment to observe him. The sun did him good. There was a soft glow to his skin, the colours of the sunset dancing in his dark eyes. Laugh lines were becoming more prominent around them, only adding to its charm.

He was a good man. He deserved better.

“I’ll find a way,” you sounded determined, “I promise.”

You didn’t say that very often. Your word didn’t mean a lot to people in the business, but it seemed to, to him.

“Thank you.” He appeared taken aback but didn’t show it in his words.

You simply sent him a smile, a reassurance. You knew what you had to do, just weren’t sure how.

He was right. There wasn’t a way out of it other than the one he proposed, but it wasn’t an option. You had to find another.

You would. You’d figure it out.

“It’s Cinnamon, by the way,” he said without any context.

You looked at him in question.

“My embarrassing nickname.” This was not where you saw the conversation heading but you were delighted all of a sudden. “My ma used to call me that all the damn time. Mortifying.”

“Cinnamon and Buttercup.” You didn’t bother hiding the grin that spread across your face. “World’s best assassins.”

“If that name ever leaves this conversation, I’ll know who to murder.”

“You couldn’t even if you tried,” you said playfully, nudging his shoulder.

He shrugged, face relaxed. “T’was worth a shot.”

An unintentional pun you snickered at. You didn’t tease him any further, just filed the name away as a memory. Maybe you’d use it later.

“Have you ever let anyone go after that?” You didn’t want to keep coming back to this conversation but you liked having someone to relate to.

“No.” Sam shook his head. “Didn’t want to test my luck.”

“Me too.” One had been enough. You lived in fear for so long, waiting for someone to pull the plug and tell him what you’d done. That fear only grew everyday, finding a place at the deepest corner of your mind to fester.

“It’s what I meant when I said Serpentine had a motive to want me dead,” Sam said, piquing your interest once more.

“Huh?”

“The man I was supposed to kill- he was their old head. He disappeared after that and no one heard from him but it pissed off everyone, right from Ransone to their stupid gang’s janitor,” he explained, your eyes going wide with every word. “So the irony is, if we’re right, I might have led us into this situation. They’re looking for revenge.”

“Holy shit,” you uttered under your breath.

“I just assumed he died of old age if someone didn’t get to him first. He looked like he was one birthday away from the grave anyway.”

“How are you still alive, Sam?” you asked in wonder.

“I’d do it again.” He laughed, a deep one from his stomach.

He was reckless, clearly. Happily and unashamedly so. And if you continued to hang out with him after this was over, he’d probably get you killed in some stunt or two.

But maybe you’d deal with that if the time came. 

He leaned back again, this time no creases on his forehead from stress. He looked at peace.

You sat together in silence. You occasionally stole glances at him as the sun set in front of you, a small smile on your face.

You leaned your head on his shoulder tentatively. You could feel him tilt his head to look at you and you prepared to have him ask you to move.

It never came. Instead, he scooted closer to you, letting you rest against him more comfortably. Your heart skipped a beat; barely but surely. 

A realisation quickly hit you, suddenly before consuming you. Your stomach sank.  

“Fuck.”

Next part

[peanutpinet]

will you write a part 2 for yuta's mafia boss? maybe how he cares for his s/o?

Omg definitely!!!

A/N: I'm so sorry for taking so long to do this request!! I definitely do want to do it but was busy the past few weeks since intern has been a bit hectic but I'm good now so, leggo!!

Warning: fluff!! tsundere Yuta because let's be real, he looks cold but is such a softie!!

Also, side note, idk why I decided to use bullet points. Just felt that it would fit better since it's not really a story or some sort hehehe

First and foremost, as mentioned, I definitely think that Yuta is a tsundere

For those who don't know what a tsundere is, essentially, you would seem so cold towards someone (even a crush or lover) but in reality, you're a big softie for them and would do anything for them

But!! I feel that it would just be at the beginning of the relationship since he has never been in a committed relationship

So, please cut him some slack at the beginning

Doesn't know how to show affection much but I can see him surprising you out of nowhere

Like, you'd just text him that you're done with work and was about to head home when suddenly you saw him in his tesla (if you know, you know) then would take you out for dinner before hanging out with you at your place

Or like when you're feeling scruffy or not in the mood to work, you would rant to him and suddenly someone at the office mentioned that you got a package that would either be your favourite food from your favourite restaurant or your favourite treats/snacks

Would most likely take you out to the movies or a fair if there were any

Like, you told him about this one movie coming out and outta nowhere, he would tell you that he already booked tickets (the man has his ways, don't question him)

Would most likely be clingy when he let loose of himself

You staying over at his place? Better prepare yourself for little to no personal space because this man wants your attention

I can also see him trying his best to help you cook (if you can't cook, is fine, he'd order takeout for the both of you)

Would let you in on some of his works, not much, since he doesn't want to be lectured by some of his mates

Would be jelly when you hang around with the other neos more; especially the younger ones

"Ya!! Why don't you all find yourself your own S/O?! They're mine!! GET OFF OF THEM!!" - tsundere Yuta

Will warn you if he was going on a mission; so that you'll stay at home or if you're scared, call one of the other neos

Will probably have eyes everywhere to make sure you're alright. He really can't take it if something were to happen to you

Like, he was ready to use his gun when he saw one of your co-workers being a bit too close to you

As much as he values your safety, it doesn't mean that y'all don't have dates that involve going around the area

You'd complain to him that you've always wanted to have a picnic which he was confused about what's wrong eating at home or at a cafe or restaurant but would go with the flow

Would actually enjoy himself during the picnic

Would probably take turns with you on laying on each other's lap

Won't say it but he loves it when you pat his head or even brushed his hair or even playing with it; those little gestures would make his heart flutter and a smile would definitely crept up on his face

As time went out, he would definitely fall more in love with you and his tsundere side would slowly disappear and would be replaced with a childish, clingy man that would find different ways to surprise you, to show you how much he loves and cherish you

Overall, despite his reputation as a mafia boss and cold demeanour, Yuta would always turn soft to you no matter what; whether it's his looks or his actions

Oh, to have Yuta or one of the neos :" cries in singleness

JK!! EVEN IF YOU'RE SINGLE, ENJOY YOUR SINGLENESS, FIND YOUR PATH IN LIFE AND DON'T FEEL PRESSURED IN ANYTHING!!

A/N: kay, I really hope that this was alright. I should try to write more fluff again. But like the hackers content that NCT 127 have and Nomin's 'Just Do It' just gives me all those mafia/bad boys vibes :" Also, inbox is open but I may be a bit slow in doing them. Alright, have a wonderful weekend and stay safe everyone :) xoxo vinet

[peachyaone]

Nobody. PT 2

Pairings : Class 1-A x gn! reader (platonic) / LOV x gn! reader (platonic) plot: you were kidnapped along with Bakugou on the day of the training camp. But what happens if everyone forgot about you?

"A master? I thought you were the boss around here, but you're only a measly little sidekick." you said smirking.

"Dabi, shut them up,"

"Gladly."

"Kurogiri, Compress, it's time to put him back to sleep." Shigaraki said. The guy in the mask sighed, you guessed he might be Compress. "I can't believe he's such a bad audience member, it's almost like impressive." Compress said, moving towards Bakugou. "Not yet." You thought. Not when Dabi's right beside you. "If you want me to listen, then get in your knees and beg!" Bakugou said.

You slowly moved your hand to your front to prepare for whatever that comes next. You looked at Bakugou, he's gesturing to the back door with his eyes, you nodded slightly.

There was knock on the door, "Hello, I got a pizza delivery here." The villians looked at the door, confused. "Now." You thought. "Now is the time to-" The wall beside you and Bakugou crashed, to reveal...

All Might.

There was the other Pro Heros, Kamui Woods, Edgeshot and a other one who you didn't know. "We're saved." You thought. Kamui Woods has restrainted all of them. "Ah, you two must've been scared. But you stayed strong. I'm sorry, you are safe now." All Might said to you and Bakugou. "I wasn't scared, not even close!" Bakugou said. "me neither." You said, quietly. All Might gave him a thumbs up.

You felt Dabi moving closer to you. Shigaraki started screaming at All Might. "I HATE YOU!" He screamed.

Black portals started to appear out of nowhere, you froze in shock. You saw a large figure coming out of them. It was a Nomu. "Don't release them under any circumstances, got it?" All Might said to Kamui. "Right!"

You noticed back smoke started to surround you, "Bakugou!" You said. He turned to you, he was in the same position. You saw All Might trying to grab him but he failed. You and Bakugou disappeared before him.

*Timeskip*

You were thrown unto the ground. Coughing, you stood to see and man in front of you. You didn't know who he was. But you also saw Bakugou, you stood beside him. "What's going on?" you asked him. "The hell I know?" He said. More portals start to show up, and one by one, the villian started to appear. You prepared yourself. "Master.." Shigaraki said. The man started moving, "You failed once more, Tomura. But you must not be discouraged, you'll try again. That's why I brought your associates back with you." The guy gestured to you and Bakugou. "Even these two children, because you judged that they were an important piece on your game board." He reached out a hand to Shigaraki. "You can start over as many times as it takes. I am here to provide you with help. All of this, is for you." He continued.

You saw Compress walking towards you, All Might appeared again and he's fighting All for One. You watched as All for One threw All Might a few buildings away. "All Might!" Bakugou said. "Don't you worry, it'll take more than that to kill him." All for One said. "Get off the battlefield, Tomura. And bring the children wilth you." He said. You and Bakugou got into a fighting stance.

You activated you quirk and started fighting. You were over-exerting yourself but you had to avoid them getting too close to you or Bakugou. You saw as a giant ice spike appeared at the side of the field.

"What's going on?" you thought. You saw what looks like Kirishima, Iida and Midoriya zooming across the sky. But because of you not moving, one of the villians got you. "Let go of me!" You said, trying to get out of Twice's grip. Bakugou saw you were struggling and tried to get to you. "Come on!" you heard Kirishima shout. Bakugou was conflicted between saving you or escaping. "Go, Bakugou!" You shouted. He looked at you. "Get out while you still can, you are needed there. GO!" You shouted. "I'm sorry." He said. "It's okay, now get your ass outta here!" you said. You watched as he propelled himself into the air, into Kirishima's hand.

You relaxed a little bit. At least he was safe, you could tell that he was important one between the two of you. You smiled weakly. You rather you get hurt than him.

[drabbles-mc]

Trust Me

Juice Ortiz x F!Reader

Request by @adela-topaz-caelon: So, I love Juice, and I was wondering if you wouldn't mind doing a Juice x Female reader, in which the reader is Opie's younger sister, and helps the club in her own way. She's bubbly, but very ferocious when needs be, and the scenario I have in mind is they've always been attracted to each other, and good friends. When Potter first tries to coerce Juice, she knows something's up, works the truth out of him and goes on this mission for Juice that results in a fluffy coming together

Warnings: language, light angst, Juice being a soft and slightly sad boy

Word Count: 3.9k

A/N: I’m here for all these requests about helping Juice dig himself out of the hole he put himself in during this series haha. Love that for him. Also, this was the most I’ve ever written for Opie as a character and it was actually very enjoyable haha. Hope y’all like this! xo

SOA Taglist: @mijop @garbinge @masterlistforimagines (As always, let me know if you'd like to be tagged!)

You walked across the lot at T-M, scanning the garages for your brother, waiting to see him towering over everyone. He was nowhere to be found, though. With a quiet sigh, you walked up to the garage and waved to get someone’s, anyone’s attention who could give you an answer as to where he was.

Juice had spotted you the second you stepped down out of your car. He jogged over to you, a smile on his face as he met you on the pavement. His grin was one that was impossible not to return. He was wiping grease from the palms of his hands onto his pants so he could hug you without leaving any stains on you.

“Y/N, hey,” he wrapped you in a brief embrace, “All good?”

You stepped back and nodded, “All good. Just looking for Ope? Said he was gonna need help with a couple things tonight and to meet him here.”

Juice nodded, “Think he’s in the clubhouse.”

“Great! Thank you. I’ll see you in a bit,” you flashed him a smile before turning and walking across the lot to the clubhouse.

Juice was left there, unable to do anything besides watch you walk away. He couldn’t help but to be mesmerized by the way you walked, so lightly but with just enough authority to let people know that you weren’t someone to be messed with. Your smile was just inviting enough to let people know that you were kind, but not so disarming that you were setting yourself up to be taken advantage of. If growing up with Opie had taught you anything, it was how to carry yourself.

“You’re askin’ for trouble, brother,” Jax materialized behind him with a chuckle.

“What?” Juice tried to feign ignorance.

“Opie will stomp you out like the bug you are if you ever try to get too close to her.”

Juice shook his head, “I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure,” he chuckled and clapped him on the back, “Whatever you say.”

Despite the fact that Jax had just called him out, he still couldn’t make himself walk back to the garage until you had disappeared into the clubhouse, the door shutting behind you. Juice let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. With a shake of his head, he walked back to the truck that he had been working on, his brain now running at a mile a minute with so many different thoughts of you.

Juice had fallen a little in love with you the first time he’d seen you. He hadn’t been in Charming all that long, and was just starting to slip into the role of prospect. He was in the clubhouse, stacking cases of beer behind the bar when you came striding in. It felt like the wind had gotten knocked out of his lungs as he looked you over—he was certain that you had made a wrong turn somewhere. There was no way that a girl like you purposely landed yourself in a place like the Samcro clubhouse.

You’d walked up to the bar, given him a smile that made him weak in the knees, and asked if he had seen your brother.

“Wh-who’s your brother?” he stammered out nervously, now jittery not just from the fact that he thought you were beautiful, but also from the fact that you were the sister of one of the men in the MC.

You laughed as you sat down on the stool directly across from him, “Ah, so you’re the new guy,” you looked him up and down before finally answering his question, “Opie.”

His eyes went wide, “Opie?”

You chuckled, “I know—I got the all the looks and he got all the height. Unfortunate division of genes.”

“Thought I heard trouble,” Opie’s voice cut through the clubhouse before the conversation between you and Juice could continue any further.

You laughed as he walked up behind you, resting his hands down on your shoulders and pulling you back into him, you head resting back against the leather of his kutte. Opie had dismissed Juice, granting himself some privacy to be able to talk to his sister without any interruptions. However as Juice left the clubhouse that day, he knew that you were someone he wasn’t going to be forgetting about any time soon.

The two of you had become friends rather quickly after that. You loved all of the guys in the MC—they were your brothers as much as they were Opie’s. But you couldn’t deny that there was something different about Juice. He had a type of light and kindness emanating from him that you just didn’t see in Charming very often, let alone in the club. Your brother had kept a close, scrutinizing eye on you when the two of you first started spending time together, but as time went on he conceded that maybe it was a good friendship for the both of you. You were level-headed enough to keep Juice reined in, and he kept you from taking yourself too seriously. It took some time, but Opie eventually stopped feeling like he had to constantly be looking over your shoulder whenever you were around Juice.

That first day felt like it was lifetimes ago now, though. You made your way back to the dorms once you didn’t see Opie sitting in the main area of the bar. The door to his room was closed, so you gave it a couple knocks and waited for your cue to enter. A few moments later, Opie pulled the door open and offered up a tired smile as he pulled you into a hug and kissed the top of your head.

“You look like shit,” you said with a laugh as you sat down on his bed.

“Good to see you too,” he chuckled and shook his head, trying to smooth out his extremely disheveled hair.

“Everything alright?”

“Need to ask you for a favor.”

You nodded, assuming that that was where this conversation was going to be heading, “Whatever you need.”

“Got some club business to handle. Most of us are gonna be outta town for a few days. Was wondering if you would be willing to stay here and help keep things running smoothly?”

You shrugged, nodding, “Yea, of course. Who’s gonna have the kids?”

“Mom.”

You nodded, a little surprised that your mother was still willing to take the kids when Opie had club business. You weren’t going to get into that discussion with him, though, “Who else is staying behind?”

“It’s just gonna be you, Chucky, and Juice. Gemma’s got family shit going on so we could really use you here at T-M. Mechanics will still be on deck and everything, but I’d feel better knowing we had someone else here who was Samcro.”

You loved that you got to be part of the inner circle of everything happening with the club. You didn’t get to know everything, but you got to know more than most. The fact that Opie trusted you meant the world to you. There was something exciting about the fact that every now and then he talked about you like you were part of the club.

“I got you,” you said with a nod, “But I’m crashing here. I don’t trust what might be on the sheets in anyone else’s dorms.”

He laughed, “Smart,” he ran his hands over his face, “Thank you, Y/N. I appreciate it.”

“You guys heading out tonight?”

“Couple hours,” he sighed, “Sorry for the short notice.”

You shrugged, “No big deal. We always figure it out,” you stood up and gave him a hug, “I’m gonna go pack some shit to bring here with me for the next few days. I’ll try to be back before you guys head out.”

“Alright. Love you.”

“Love you back,” you called to him as you walked out of his dorm.

Later that afternoon, once all of the guys had peeled out of the compound, you realized just how quiet things were at T-M when they weren’t all around causing trouble. It was peaceful but it also felt a little empty. The chaos is what made it feel like home.

You walked into the clubhouse and saw Juice sitting at the bar, typing furiously away at his laptop. You smiled as you sauntered onto the other side of the bar, grabbing one beer for yourself and one for him, popping the caps off on the edge of the bar. You set his next to his laptop and you saw the smile creep across his face even though he didn’t take his eyes off of the screen in front of him.

“Just you and me for the next few days, Juice,” you said with a smirk.

That got his eyes to flick up to you for a moment. He smiled, a nervous laugh slipping out past his lips, “Looks like it.”

“Don’t look so nervous,” you chuckled, “You know I don’t bite.”

It hit Juice that this was the first time that the two of you were going to be left to your own devices for an extended period of time. The idea of it was exciting and terrifying for him all at once. For years he’d admired you and kept it to himself so he wouldn’t catch any of Opie’s wrath. But he had never been able to shake the feeling that maybe, possibly, you felt the same way about him. He was never bold enough to ask, but there was always a feeling in his gut that his feelings weren’t one-sided. There had never been the chance to even try to discuss it, there were always so many other people around, namely your brother and your father. Neither of those men were people that Juice felt like pissing off.

“You crashing here?” he asked.

You nodded as you sipped on your beer, “Yea. Taking Ope’s room. You?”

He nodded, “Always do when the guys leave town. Someone’s gotta stay here and make sure the bad guys don’t get in,” there was a childish grin on his face.

You laughed, “The bad guys just rolled out of town a few minutes ago.”

The two of you existed peacefully with each other as the afternoon bled over into the evening. You were camped out on the picnic table outside the clubhouse, a drink in one hand and a book in the other. You were laying on your back on top of the table, book perched carefully on your chest as you absorbed another page of the story.

You heard Juice’s phone going off, followed quickly by the sound of him answering it. You wanted to eavesdrop, but he was just a little too far away to be able to make out what he was saying. You sat up on the table, swinging your legs so that your feet landed on the bench. You stretched and waited for Juice to step outside.

He came out a couple minutes later, shrugging a hoodie on over his kutte. You saw the confused look on his face and just as you were about to ask him where he was going, he turned and looked at you, “Be back in a bit. Got some shit I gotta handle.”

“Everything okay?”

He nodded, “Yea. Just lock the gate behind me, don’t want you here by yourself unprotected.”

You agreed, fighting the urge to ask all of the questions that were bubbling up in your mind. You watched as he pulled his helmet on and hopped onto his bike. He looked at you and offered up a half-hearted smile before peeling out of the compound. With a heavy sigh, you did as he asked, shutting and locking the gates behind him once he had left.

Your original plan had been to head to bed, but you knew that you weren’t going to be able to fall asleep without knowing that he was back safe and sound in the clubhouse. A million different scenarios were running through your mind as you made your way back to Opie’s dorm. You tried to tune out your own brain as you changed into an old hoodie and a pair of sweatpants. You figured you would just hang out in the clubhouse and wait for Juice to get back—there wasn’t much else to do otherwise especially now that you were locked onto the compound.

Not too long after Juice had left, you got a check-in text from Opie. You didn’t mention that Juice had left you on your own. It was either one of two scenarios: it was club business and Opie knew about it, or it was personal business and Opie didn’t need to know about it. You reassured him that all was quiet.

Juice had been gone for a couple hours and you were starting to get worried. You wanted to reach out, send a text or give him a call, but you refrained. If he needed your help he knew how to reach you. You were sprawled on the couch in the clubhouse, eyes resting shut but still incredibly awake.

You heard the clubhouse door open. You slowly sat up and looked over at Juice, who was clearly trying to step quietly because he thought that you had been asleep. Embarrassment flashed across his features for a moment when he saw you looking at him attempting to tip-toe on the creaky hardwood floors. He looked so much more exhausted than when he had left.

“You okay? Was starting to get a little worried.”

He nodded, “Fine. Just some personal shit going on.”

He had never been a good liar. But you knew that it wasn’t the time to press the issue, “Alright. I’m here if you wanna talk, you know. Every now and then I even have good advice.”

He forced a smile, “Thank you.”

He disappeared back towards the dorms and left you alone in the open expanse of the bar. You sighed, leaning your head back against the arm of the couch. Running your hands down over your face, you let out a quiet groan. You got up off the couch and shut off all the lights in the main area of the bar. It was one of the only times you’d ever seen it empty, clean, and quiet. You headed back towards the dorms.

Stopping just outside Juice’s door, you took a deep breath in to pluck up some courage. You tapped your knuckles lightly on his door that was slightly ajar. You heard some shuffling around before his voice called out for you to come in.

You walked in to see him in a t-shirt and a pair of boxers. Your breath got caught in your throat, and for a moment you forgot that you were popping in to check on him. You shook your head to dispel the thoughts. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, feet planted firmly on the floor. He wouldn’t look up at you and it made your heart sink inside your chest.

“You sure you’re alright? If you want some company I—”

“I’m fine,” he cut you off, something he’d never done before, “Goodnight, Y/N. I’ll see you in the morning.”

You tried to hide how much it had stung to have him be that short with you. Your voice was soft, “Goodnight.”

You laid in bed and stared up at the ceiling. You hated that Juice being short with you had such a negative effect on you, but he’d never been that way with you. The club had been through some serious ups and downs, and even when things felt like they were crumbling, he was always kind and soft with you. It concerned you as much as anything else.

It was reaching into the small hours of the morning and you still hadn’t been able to fall asleep. You huffed, swinging your legs off the bed and standing up. You flipped the hood of your sweatshirt up and made your way out into the clubhouse, hoping that maybe a shot or two of something strong would help put you to sleep. You were fumbling around in the dark when you heard the click of a gun behind you.

“It’s me,” you knew it was Juice, so you didn’t bother to turn around.

“Jesus Christ,” he clicked the safety back on his gun and let his hands drop to his sides, “Why are you up so early?”

“Late,” you corrected, “Never fell asleep.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously,” you grabbed a bottle of whiskey and took a swig, cringing as the liquor burned down your throat.

“Whoa, whoa,” Juice walked over and took the bottle from you, “I don’t think that’s the answer to the problem.”

You looked at him, still seeing worry etched into his features, the light in his eyes just a little duller than usual, “What’s going on with you?”

He glanced over at you as he put the bottle away, “What?”

“You heard me. What happened tonight?”

“Is that why you haven’t been able to sleep?”

It felt childish to say, but you did anyway, “You’ve never snapped at me like that.”

He sighed, running his hand along his fauxhawk as he did. He forced himself to look over at you. He couldn’t lie to you but he didn’t want to tell you the truth either. There was too much on the line for both of you.

“It’s nothing that you need to get roped into,” he answered honestly.

“I’m not just Opie’s sister, you know,” you waited for him to look you in the eyes, “I’m your friend. I’m…I’m someone who cares about you. You can talk to me—I’m not just gonna go running to my fucking brother.”

“I know,” his response was immediate, “I know you won’t. It’s not that. It’s just, fuck,” he shook his head, “The whole thing is a mess.”

“C’mon,” you waved for him to walk with you back towards the dorms, “sit and talk with me.”

The two of you found yourselves sat on Juice’s bed. You were both sitting cross-legged, facing each other. Juice twisted his hands nervously in his lap as he started to tell you about everything that had been happening with him and Roosevelt and Potter. He told you about what they had said to him at the meeting that night, about the position that they were putting him in.

“I can’t go to the club with this.”

“Why not?” you knew the situation wasn’t ideal, but there was no one that the club hated more than the feds. If anything, they would be more than willing to help take them down or at the very least run them out of Charming.

“I can’t risk losing this,” he gestured around him to the dorm and clubhouse around him, “It’s the only home, the only family that I’ve got,” he paused, eyes searching your face for a moment, “And I can’t lose you either.”

A wave of warmth washed over you at the sentiment. You reached forward and placed your hands on top of his, “Juice, like it or not, you’re never going to be able to get rid of me. You’re stuck with me now.”

He chuckled, trying to make it seem like his emotions weren’t about to get the better of him, “Promise?”

“Promise,” you nodded towards his nightstand where his laptop was resting, “Grab that for me.”

He did as you asked, but couldn’t hide his confusion as he handed it over to you. You smiled at the expression on his face as you began to start typing away on his keyboard. In that moment he realized he’d never seen you use a computer—you’d never had a reason to around him. He watched in awe as your fingers flew across the keyboard.

You were lying on your stomach on his bed, laptop propped up on his pillow. Juice was lying down beside you, close enough for you to feel the heat radiating off of his body and soaking into yours. You tried not to focus on that as you continued to click through windows and move things around on his desktop.

“Do I get to ask what you’re doing?”

You chuckled, “I’m doing a little information recon,” you glanced over at him with a smile, “You’re not the only one with tech know-how around here, Juicy. I just never wanted to steal your thunder in front of the guys.”

He chuckled, shaking his head, “How kind of you. What’re you looking for, anyway?”

“Dirt,” you replied simply.

“On Potter?” when you nodded in response, he couldn’t hide the doubt that was warping his features, “You’re not going to be able to find anything on him. There’s no way his shit isn’t locked in a vault somewhere behind twenty million walls of encryptions.”

You shook your head, “Oh ye of little faith. No one is clean,” you sighed, “Especially not the fucking feds.”

Juice laughed, “Now you’re sounding like a patch.”

You chuckled, “Might as well be.”

Your typing faltered when you felt his hand slide underneath the warm fabric of your hoodie. His palm rested gently in the center of your back, and he didn’t make any comment about it. You fought to keep your composure, but the warmth seeping into your skin from his was making it difficult.

He rested his chin onto your shoulder and you felt like you were about to combust. He spoke up, his tone gentle, “Thank you.”

“Yea,” you fought to keep your tone even, “of course. You know I’ve always got your back.”

“And I’m sorry. About earlier, I mean. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that—I know you just wanted to help.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” he slid his hand so that his arm was wrapped around you and pulled you close to him, prying your attention away from his computer, “I was just hit with all these thoughts of losing everything that I have here. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”

You reveled in the feelings of his arms being wrapped around you. Gently, hesitantly, you reached out and traced your fingers down the side of his face. He let his eyes flutter shut as he leaned into your touch and you could feel your heart swelling inside your chest. There was a softness to him that you hoped he would never lose.

“We’re going to figure this out,” you leaned in and pressed your forehead to his, “Do you trust me?”

He took a deep breath and nodded as he wrapped his arms tighter around you, “Yea, I do.”

“Juice?” you asked after a few moments of silence.

He pulled away from you just enough so that he could look into your eyes, “Yea?”

“Can I stay here with you tonight?”

His heart was beating fast enough that he could’ve sworn that you could hear it, “Y-yea. Of course.”

You smiled as you shut the laptop and placed it back onto his bedside table. You shimmied yourself underneath the covers and waited for him to do the same. It was going to be a long few days of trying to get as many answers put together before everyone got back, but those were problems for the morning. For now, you focused on the feeling of Juice’s heartbeat against your cheek as you snuggled into him. His hand caressed your back and you let out a quiet hum of contentment. You felt him smile against your forehead before he placed a gentle kiss there.

“Goodnight,” he said softly.

You finally felt your exhaustion starting to kick in, “Goodnight.”

[theres-an-impulstor-among-us]

Among Us idea: Because I'm a little bit obsessed with game mechanics and glitches in fic...how about a round where one of the Hermits gets left behind? The game ends, and everyone but them is transported to the lobby, but they're just left on an empty ship flying eternally to some destination it will never reach... All the tasks are done. There's nothing left to do. So why is the game still keeping them there? And how do they escape? (It could also be two people left, if writing just one alone would be boring. Your choice who!)

SKSKSKSKSK HOW DO YOU DO THIS I’VE BEEN PLANNING OUT AN IDEA IN MY HEAD FOR THE LAST FEW DAYS IN WHICH TWO PLAYERS ACCIDENTALLY GET LEFT BEHIND HOW DO YOU KEEP READING MY MIND (/lh)

also i had a kind of idea to expand the concept a little bit and i hope that’s okay :)

also also i too love the ideas that utilise glitches or kinda ignore game mechanics; they're always so interesting to write! :D

…

Having finished his tasks a long time ago and not being teleported to any meetings lately, Skizz wanders around the whole ship, trying to find a friend. A buddy. Or literally anyone. But the ship seems deserted.

Finally, Skizz wanders into admin and checks the special table.

To his shock, he finds only two yellow faces on the screen: one in admin and one in cafeteria. So he rushes into the cafeteria and literally bumps into someone coming the other way.

“Oh my gosh, FINALLY,” Impulse breathes. “Where IS everyone?”

Skizz glances away, unable to meet his best friend’s gaze. “We have a problem.”

Impulse frowns. “What?” he asks warily.

“Um…” Skizz rubs the back of his neck. “So… it seems we’re the only two people on the ship.”

It takes a moment for Impulse’s brain to process what his friend just said. “...what?”

“I looked around the whole ship and then went to the admin table. There were only two yellow dots: me and you. There’s literally nobody else anywhere on the ship, dude.”

“But… I…” Impulse blinks. “How is that possible? Did the game end and leave us behind, somehow?”

“I feel like that’s the only possible explanation, but at the same time, it makes no sense.”

“Well, if this IS what happened, it’s gotta be a glitch, right?” says Impulse.

Skizz nods. “Gotta be. But now the question is… how do we get outta here?”

Impulse gazes around the room. “The game always automatically puts us back in the lobby when we’re done, so… I don’t think there’s a way of manually doing it.”

Skizz stares back at him with wide eyes. “You mean we’re stuck in THIS particular ship forever?!”

“W-Well, hopefully not FOREVER,” Impulse responds nervously. “I’m sure they’ll have realised we’re missing by now and they’ll be trying to get us back.”

“But what if they can’t?!” Skizz yelps. “We’ll be trapped in this purgatory forever!”

“Not helping, Skizz,” snaps Impulse. “We’ll be totally fine. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Yeah, like I can have ANY faith in your words anymore,” mutters Skizz, turning away.

Impulse glances sharply at him, sensing that his best friend’s words aren’t about Among Us. Not entirely. “What do you mean?”

Skizz just rolls his eyes and walks off.

Impulse watches him go. Looks like Skizz hasn’t been so quick to forgive and forget after all. Now the way Skizz was acting around him earlier makes sense.

After making a quick trip around the ship, Impulse discovers Skizz sitting leaning against the wall in admin, tossing a stack of ID cards at the wall one at a time.

“Still no way off,” Impulse reports. “Looks like we’re stuck here until they rescue us. Flying through space. On a ship heading to nowhere. An endless journey. With nothing except-.”

“Yes, okay, I get it!” Skizz snaps at him.

After a moment, Impulse leans against the admin table. “Skizz, you’ve been acting weird around me all night. I think we need to talk.”

“I don’t wanna talk.”

“C’mon. We’re stuck here on a ship on our own for the foreseeable future. There’s no better time to talk than now.”

“Okay!” snaps Skizz unexpectedly, jumping to his feet. “FINE! You wanna talk?! I don’t care! You did a LOT of talking back there on 3rd Life and not a word of it was true!”

Impulse frowns. “Is that what this is about?”

Skizz’s eyes nearly pop out of his head. “WH- WHAT DO YOU MEAN “is that what this is about”?! You say that like I’m mad at you for stealing my sandwich! Impulse, you LIED to me, BETRAYED me, and then watched Grian KILL me! You told me over and over again that you were on my side and you were loyal to us but you planned to betray us from the start! Y-You planned to betray ME. Do you-” He breaks off with a bitter laugh. “You know what, I was gonna say “do you have any idea how much that hurts?” but you DO, don’t you? Because your own ally turned on you. And murdered you. And you know what? YOU DESERVED IT!”

Impulse can only stare at his best friend with an expression of guilt and sadness.

“I wanted you to go far, dude! I wanted you to win at one point!” Skizz’s voice cracks. “I thought you were the best of us but it turns out you were nothing but a dirty liar and a traitor! I thought “oh, his strategy of playing all sides is pretty smart, actually, but he’s gonna have to pick a side at some point” but I didn’t realise that meant pretending to pick a side and then STABBING THEM IN THE BACK! Of all the- the jerky things to do! You pick the worst one! I-I just don’t understand how you could do that to someone you’ve been a brother to for A QUARTER OF A CENTURY! GOD, you SO deserved to die and the biggest regret of my life is that I didn’t get imposter tonight so I could stab you in the FACE!”

Skizz finally stops talking, breathing heavily. He takes in a deep breath, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “Wow… I did not expect to yell that much…”

“I…” Impulse searches for something to say. But he can’t find anything. “I don’t…”

“You don’t have to say anything, Impulse.” Skizz gives a weak smile. “I-I think I just needed to… to let my feelings out.”

“You just needed to yell at me, huh? I get that.”

“Haha, yeah. Remember that time I snuck onto Hermitcraft and did a bunch of reckless things and then died, and you didn’t know if I was gonna respawn or not?”

Impulse nods, a small smile appearing on his face. “That’s what I was indirectly referring to. I think my throat hurt from yelling at you for, like, two weeks after that.”

“Are we even now, then?” asks Skizz.

“Well, I mean… Probably not. I still have a lot to make up for.”

Skizz shakes his head. “No, it… it’s okay. We all did things in that place that we’re not proud of.”

“Even the great Skizzleman?” teases Impulse weakly.

“Oh heck yeah. I still have nightmares about how I violently murdered two of my friends and how bloodthirsty I felt for so long. It freaks me out that I got to that point, man. Even in Among Us when I murder people, even you, I never got THAT bad.”

“Yeah, 3rd Life was…” Again, Impulse searches for the right word. “...an experience. In more ways than one.”

“It really was,” Skizz murmurs, letting out a long breath. “I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have let it affect Among Us so much.”

“No, it’s okay. And we can-.”

Impulse breaks off Skizz suddenly disappears in front of him. Blinking, he just has time to take a step forward before the admin room vanishes and he finds himself back in the lobby.

With eight people staring at him.

“Oh my gosh, finally!” Tango gasps, grabbing both Impulse and Skizz in a hug. “Are you guys okay?”

“We’re fine, dude,” laughs Skizz quietly. “We just yelled at each other a bit, that’s all.”

Impulse chuckles. “Well, it was mostly Skizz doing the yelling.”

“Yeah, true. How did you guys even manage to get us out?”

“The insane genius that is Etho hacked into the code and managed to force the round to end again,” Tango responds. “Somehow. I dunno how. Took us a while to figure out what’d happened, though.”

“Yeah, I’ve never seen that glitch before,” Etho chimes in. “There was six left, Grian and Ren double-killed me and Pungence to win, and that should’ve been it. The rest of us respawned in the lobby but we realised you two were missing.”

“Whoa, that’s so weird.” Skizz exchanges a look with Impulse. “Cuz for us, it was like the round just hadn’t ended.”

“Yeah, we’d both done all our tasks and we had no idea anything had happened.”

“What did you guys do?”

Impulse and Skizz shoot each other another look, silently making a mutual decision. “Just talked a bit and tried to look for a way out,” Impulse replies. “That’s all.”

Tango frowns, clearly picking up on the slight tension between them, but he doesn’t mention it. “Okay. Let’s hope that doesn’t happen again.”

“Yeah.”

Skizz thinks back to the way he’d exploded at Impulse, and the way Impulse had looked at him with fear in his eyes. All the fury, the despair, the hurt… It had all spilled out at once. Skizz never wants to feel that way again.

“Let’s hope not.”

[strabbyshortcake]

the truth about snaktooth

Gramble finally tells his partners what befell him and everybody else on the island.

“Whatcha doin’, Gram?”

The screen door clatters as it shuts behind Boots. It’s a nice summer night, one of the rare ones they got with little humidity, so Gramble had left the main door open, the sound of katydids and crickets drifting through from the outdoors. He looks up from the hand towel in his paws, shoulders hunched guiltily.

There’s a large cardboard box sitting on the floor, full of bits of kitchen décor. Ceramic plates with fruit stenciled on them, prints of vintage ads for bread and desserts, towels with produce embroidered on them. All the kitschy things Boots knew he liked decorating his spaces with, and Gramble spent more time in the kitchen than either her or Piesha, with how much he enjoyed cooking.

“Oh, evenin’ Boots,” he greets her, expression softening into a smile. “You remember we talked about Lizbert and Egg visitin?”

“Yeah…?” She pads over, frowning a little at the bare spots on the walls and shelves. Boots was acquainted with the two from attending expedition reunions with Gramble, and while she made it no mystery that she disliked Lizbert’s invasive style of exploration, it was all in the past. Liz had retired from that life after the whole Snaktooth stunt to become a museum curator. “What’s the matter, they allergic to tackiness?”

Gramble laughs at her affectionate teasing. “No, well… Actually, funny you should say that. Egg’s fine, but Liz has got… I guess you could say she’s got kind of a hang-up over food imagery. And while she’s doin’ well these days, might just make her a lil’ more comfortable to not feel so surrounded, y’know?”

“Yeah, yeah, I get you.” Boots nods, reaching up to take the clock off the wall. It’s a piece of painted wood in the shape of a strawberry. Nollie had made it in an art class. “Place is a little dusty, anyway.”

Together he and Boots work to mostly strip the place of any food-related decoration, leaving only a couple little accents up so the place didn’t seem too bare. Gramble sighs at the empty walls, leaning into Boots’ touch as she places a paw on his shoulder.

She and Pie had always been so understanding when he told them he couldn’t talk about what had happened on the island, but he hated to keep his loved ones in the dark. Not simply for the fact that there might still be danger lurking out there, but that he knew he could trust them, and yet, just telling them what had happened was almost as terrifying as the thought of being back there. The idea that just speaking of it would somehow make it manifest, bring it back into his life when he’d worked so hard to escape it, haunted him, but so did keeping it bottled up inside.

“…I need to tell you both what really happened,” he says quietly. “It’s been long enough. Just, after Liz and Egg are gone. Then we’ll talk about it.”

Boots blinks down at him in surprise. “You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

--

The visit went well. This was the first time Lizbert and Eggabell had seen the new house and the refurbished barn, the first they’d met Cardi and Dember, and Nollie had only been a year old when they’d last come around. They’d caught up, shared stories, enjoyed Gramble’s cooking and chatted about where their lives were going and where they’d been.

After they’d waved goodbye, gotten in Eggabell’s car and driven off to see Wambus and Triffany, after the dishes had been cleared and cleaned and the kids were all in bed, Gramble sat Boots and Piesha down on the porch swing in the back while he took the rocking chair.

“I need to tell you,” he says, fidgeting with his paws where they rested on his chest. “about what happened on Snaktooth.”

“Alright.” Pie nods slowly, leaning into Boots’ cushy side. Boots gives him an encouraging smile, rocking the swing back and forth slightly with her heel.

Gramble swallows, licking his lips. “So… Not all of what I told you was a cover-up. We did run outta food and I did almost starve to death. But… Geez, I dunno where to even start.”

“Why’d you go in the first place?” Boots asks.

“Oh, that I didn’t lie about either. My mama really did up and leave while I was at college. I went cuz… Cuz I guess I felt like I didn’t have anywhere else to go. I saw Liz on TV say she was gatherin’ people up for her team and I just… I wanted somewhere to go that wasn’t home.”

She nods solemnly, gesturing for him to go on.

“Well, Snaktooth… Liz said she found somethin’ there. These creatures she was documenting. D’you… Have either of you ever heard of bugsnax?” Gramble nearly whispers the last word, even though it’s just the three of them out here, just the three of them and the crickets and fireflies, the kids sound asleep.

Piesha tilts her head, thoughtful. “Mm… Maybe a long time ago,” Pie says. “One of those things they got lots of fairy tales about. Critters made of food, right?”

“Right.” Gramble nods. “But they’re real. And please- I know how it sounds,” he stammers, even though neither of them looked skeptical. “But I swear. I saw them, I picked them up and held them, I had a whole barn full of them that Liz and Buddy caught for me. I had names for them, and… and everybody said they were the most delicious things they’d ever eaten. B-but there’s a reason for that. Sorry, lemme go back a bit and explain.

“When we got there, we thought we’d be able to farm. That was Wambus’s thing, but no matter what he tried, the crops would wither, or the bugsnax would get in and destroy them. The only thing he could grow was the sauce that grew on the island, and that wasn’t anywhere near enough to live on. Pretty soon we ran outta food, but that wasn’t a problem for most folks. They’d just eat the bugsnax.”

“And I’m guessin’ you didn’t?” Boots asks.

He shakes his head. “No, I didn’t want to. I already didn’t eat meat, and the snax were always so cute and friendly and I couldn’t bear the thought of hurtin’ them. So I just… didn’t. I tried to live off the sauce, and I ate dandelions and weeds, I ate damn near anything that was edible, but it was never enough.”

“That’s awful, Gram.” Boots says, her brows knitted. “Why didn’t you leave?”

“Well, I… I thought about it,” Gramble wraps his arms around himself. “Even though I didn’t have nowhere to return to, I figured it might be better than starving. But it wasn’t too long after that Lizbert up and disappeared. Her and Egg, there was an earthquake and after that they never came back to town. Some folks thought they died, others thought they ran off, but without her nobody was bringin’ in bugsnax to eat and they started to eat mine, so I ran off with the rest of ‘em and that made everybody mad and I really did start to think there was nobody who cared about me but the snax and Wiggle, and… and even she was eatin’ them too, but I let her cuz I didn’t have nobody else... I was so afraid she’d leave me too that I put up with it.”

He pauses, taking a deep breath. “So, um… I guess a couple weeks after that, Buddy finally showed up. We’d been on the island almost a year at that point. They wanted to interview Liz, figure out what happened, and they managed to get all of us back into town within a week or two. I was really doin’ poorly though.” His claws absently scratch at his belly over the scar that the rake had left, concealed beneath his fur but never fully faded.  “Didn’t care much whether I lived or died. Nothin’ I tried worked, and one of the big snax I asked Buddy for nearly killed me. And then…”

Boots holds Pie’s paw between both of hers, stroking it, both of them patiently waiting for him to gather his racing thoughts. It had been so long since he’d even thought about all this, and much of the events were a haze of hunger and pain, he was amazed he could keep the basic timeline coherent.

“Then, one night… When we were all back in town, Filbo decided he wanted to throw a party. That was when everything… That’s when it all fell apart. There was an active volcano on the island, and it erupted. Eggabell suddenly showed up back in town and told us she knew where Liz was, and she and Buddy and Filbo ran off to get her while the rest of us tried to get to safety. B-but… You remember what I said before, about the bugsnax?” He lifts his gaze to the two of them.

Pie nods at him. “Yeah. They taste good, right?”

“They also…” Gramble holds his paws out, curling his fingers into fists. “They change you. Whenever you eat one, your body parts become it. I know it sounds silly, but everybody was walkin’ around with arms and legs made of strawberries and corn and cinnamon rolls and you kinda just… got used to it. I only ever ate one when I was sleepwalkin’, and I don’t even remember what it was like, but everybody else except Shelda ate ‘em all the time. You get used to it and then you start believin’ that they’re the only thing that can make you feel good anymore. Sorta like drugs, but sorta like… Wiggle used to say they inspired her, and Chandlo thought he could get stronger with them, it was whatever you wanted. I guess even I was fallin’ for it, thinkin’ they could replace my family, and I never even had to eat ‘em.

“But that’s the trick. You get dependent, but you don’t realize that… That they’re parasites. And I’m kinda fuzzy on the details, but according to Buddy, Liz was somehow stuck down in the main… meat of the hive,” Gramble brings his paws together, looking down at his intertwined fingers. “And that’s where she’d been all along, down in the darkness with all those food bugs crawlin’ all over her and into her mouth and… that’s why she’s got such a thing about food.”

“Ah…” He can’t blame Boots for looking a little numb, covering her mouth with her paw as Pie stares blankly at him. It was a lot to take in. “Yeah, I guess that’d do it.”

Gramble goes on. “They attacked us not long after Buddy and the others left, tryin’ to force themselves into our mouths, or kill us, either or. I guess they knew the jig was up, then and there. No comin’ back from that. But we all got away, in the end… And that’s what happened.”

He falls silent. The porch swing creaks slightly as Boots lets it come to a stop, letting the singing of the insects fill the air between them for a long moment.

“S’this place still out there…?” Piesha speaks up softly, glancing out into the darkness as if the snax might be watching from the trees.

“Far as I know,” Gramble says, slipping off the chair to walk over and take one of their paws in each of his. “But you gotta promise me you will never, ever go there.” His expression is grim as he peers up at them. “And you’ll never breathe a word to any of the kids about it, or to anybody else. Nobody should ever step foot on that awful place again.”  

“Gram,” Boots squeezes his paw in return, then leans over to scoop him up and pull him into her lap, the swing groaning in complaint as yet another grumpus is piled upon it. “…there’s gotta be somethin’ we can do-”

“No.” Gramble shakes his head, desperation creeping into his voice. “I- I don’t know. Maybe there is somethin’ that someone out there can do, but it can’t be any of us. I don’t want nothin’ to do with it ever again and if word gets out, it’s just gonna be more people goin’ there and that’s exactly what it wants. Please,” he tilts his head up at her, the porch light glimmering in his eyes. “Just leave it alone. It can’t get us here and I want it to stay that way. Promise me.”

When she hesitates, he repeats himself, teeth glinting as his lips peel back. “Promise me, please-”

“I promise.” Boots leans down to kiss him on the nose, wrapping her arm around him as the other draws Pie in closer. “I won’t tell nobody if that’s what you want.”

“That’s all that I want,” he murmurs into her fluffy chest, suddenly very tired despite the mental weight that had lifted. He’d spoken Snaktooth’s name aloud, finally uncorked what he’d kept bottled up for nearly two decades now. He should feel better-prepared, now that they were all on the same page, so why did he still feel like he was only summoning the beast? Perhaps he just needed to sleep, let this new information digest, and they’d face whatever came tomorrow together.

Hundreds of miles away, the island remembers them too.

[the-drakeboys]

What I Deserve

Summary: In the heated passion of a fight, Sam pushes you as far away from himself as he can muster; but it isn’t until you finally take the hint and leave him that he’s forced to face the real reason behind it all.

Pairing: Sam Drake x Reader 

Word Count: 2,236

Warnings: ANGST. Just… yeah, just some angst. And also freezing cold rain. 

A/N: I am so, so, so SORRY for how long I’ve been gone. I miss you guys so much! I hope you’re all doing amazing and that this little oneshot can make up for some of the time I’ve been AWOL. Please send asks or messages and let me know how you’re doing! Link me to stories if anybody’s lookin’ for feedback, I’d love to get some reading in!!

---

“What do you want from me?” he begged. “What do you want me to say? You want me to make sense of this to you, want me to put it together for you?” He stepped slowly forward, closing the distance between you. Your heart raced, your face flushed, anger filling every vein. “Why’s that my job, huh? Why’m I supposed to know, supposed to tell it to you?”

“Shut up, Sam,” you warned. Your hand out, stopping him at his chest. His feet still advancing. Yours retreating.

“And why can’t you figure it out for yourself? Why? Is it cuz you’re full of shit, is it cuz you’re not smart enough? Are you dumb or somethin’?”

“Shut your mouth,” you snapped, teeth clenching, body shaking.

“Are you blind, is there somethin’ wrong with you?” he pressed, his eyes never leaving yours, boring into you, breaking you, refusing to let up, refusing to back off, even as your back met the cool wooden front door of that musty motel room. “What is it, baby, what’s the matter with you? Why won’t you fucking get it?”

“I said, shut the fuck up!” With both hands pressing to his chest, you shoved at him, with all your strength, throwing him away from you, tearing the air between you apart.

He was breathless as he stumbled back, his eyes only leaving you long enough for him to catch himself at the wall with a hand to his side. Your eyes now the ones reaching into his soul and crushing it down until it struggled for air.

For once, he was speechless.

“Fine,” you spoke through the silent tears that’d slipped over your lips. “I get it now.”

You were out of the door before he could say a word; before enough time had passed that he could ever respond. But you didn’t miss it. That impossibly slight shift, the nearly invisible change in his eyes. For one split second, in a way only you could’ve seen, Sam was a boy again.

Lost, and left. Again.

This time, more his fault than ever before.

You raced from the building, your arms wrapped around your middle, your teeth clenched. The old security guard standing by the doors furrowed his brows and tilted his head at you. “You alright?” he asked in a thick, southern accent. You nodded your head, but said no words, disappearing through the doors as he watched you go, concern in his eyes.

You were in your car, the cold air wrapped around you and your breath fogging out in front of you. Your frigid fingers jammed into the AC buttons, turning the heat all the way up and fighting off the aching burn in your chest.

Your shitty windshield wipers barely swept the pouring rain away, they hardly worked at all. Your knuckles went white against the steering wheel as you drove through the parking lot, squinting through the rain and darkness.

You finally felt the wave crash inside of you... the tears rolling down your cheeks. Heavy, and endless, and hot against your skin.

And your feet slamming on the brakes.

He stood there. Right there, in front of you, in front of the car. His denim jacket soaked through, his hair sopping wet, his shoulders dropped and arms hung at his sides. You couldn’t see his face, but... you could feel his eyes on you.

You honked. “Move! Just move, you asshole!” you cried. “You want out so bad, you got it! Just go!”

Another honk. Another, and in the pouring rain, he didn’t move.

You stepped out of the car, standing at your door, one hand on the frame of it, “What the hell are you doing?!”

The headlights shone bright light over the features of his face. The anger was gone from him, and he just... looked at you. Like he wanted answers.

Like he wanted to know why.

Why.

“Are you just gonna stand there?” you broke, “You’re the one that wanted this.”

“I never wanted this.”

“Then what did you want, Sam?” Your fingers curled around the metal frame of your car door.

He couldn’t form a reply. His hand came up, shoving soaked hair out of his eyes. “Why are you here?”

The question was so empty, and so completely loaded, all at once. “What?” you asked. Confused, and enraged, and desperate.

“Why?”

You slammed the car door shut and stepped forward.

He backed up, just a step.

“What the hell kind of question is that? I’m here because you called me, I’m here because of you, and now—“

“—No.” He cut you off. “No... why... why are you here? Ever.”

You shook your head, out of words. His lips parted one more time.

“With me.”

Your heart sunk.

You wanted to punch him.

You wanted to scream at him, and hold him, and shake him by the shoulders until change fell from his pockets.

“Are you serious right now?”

His eyes fled from yours, finding the edges of the motel walls and doors and windows. Counting window panes.

“Just tell me why.”

You pushed then, pushed forward, inching ever closer to him, watching him look anywhere but at you, watching him refuse to face you. “I don’t know why,” you finally answered, fists shaking at your sides, “God help me, I have never known why. Why I put up with your stubbornness, with the way you disappear, with your guarded, untrusting bullshit like I haven’t earned every ounce of your trust by now with everything we’ve been through together. Who knows why I do this, why I let you have me when it’s convenient for you and push me away when it’s not. I don’t know why I’m in love with you, Sam! I have no fucking idea!”

Your voice had risen to a volume you’d never found before, and his head turned away from you, his eyes closing as he processed the words. Tried to summon the strength to just go.

“But—“ you started. He held his breath. “But I know I like it when you sing to me.” You reached up, pushing your own drenched bangs out of your eyes. “And I know that the world stops turning when we’re not together. And that no one makes me laugh like you do, no one has ever made me smile the way I do when I’m with y-you.” Your chin trembled now, and that bubble was back in your throat. You were in front of him, staring up at him, fighting for him to look you in the eyes. “I know that when you touch me, when you hold me, there’s nowhere else on this p-planet that I’d ever want to be.”

You reached out for him.

He backed up. “Don’t,” he whispered, his gaze glued to the ground. The rain still drizzled on you both, each of you shivering. Neither of you caring.

“Don’t what?” you demanded in disbelief, reaching out once again and watching as he nearly leapt back.

“Just don’t, I don’t deserve it!” he blurted. “I don’t deserve any of it!”

He stood there, those tattoos on his neck shining in the rain and the glow of your headlights, his hands shaking in the cold, or maybe with all of his emotion, you’d never really be sure.

“Sam—“

“No! I don’t get it! I don’t get it, I love you and I shouldn’t get to, I shouldn’t get to have you, I don’t know what I ever did, in my whole godforsaken life, to deserve you.” The way his chest rose and fell with fast, heavy breaths, the way he was struggling to put it all together. You were beside yourself. “The things I’ve done? The man I am? What does anyone want with a piece of shit ex-con with nothin’ to his name but a couple’a fancy coins?” 

The metallic pitter-patter of rain on the hood of your car filled the broken silence as his question echoed all around you, the confused, angry, and shattered look on his face begging you to have an answer, or to finally just go. To leave him like he deserved to be left. 

You shook your head. 

He spoke up, afraid of what you were going to say. “You’re too good for me, y/n. Always have been… always will be. And I’m sorry for how I’ve treated you. I never meant to make you feel like it was… like I was throwin’ you away. I just, uhh… I loved you and that’s the scariest fuckin’ thing I’ve ever fe--”

Your fingers grabbed him by the thick collar of his winter jean jacket and pulled him into you, not giving him any more time for any more words, colliding your lips with his as warm tears mingled with the raindrops on your cheeks. He was stiff, as if scared to fall into you again, but you didn’t let him go, moving your lips against his and desperately trying to help him understand just how much you really needed him. Wanting him to know that loving him was no mistake, that you were here to stay, that he would never have to fear watching you go. 

Sam’s heart finally began to beat again, albeit slowly, as he sunk into the kiss, his brows knit tightly together, his frozen hands going to cup your cheeks and pulling you back into him with the passion that’d been eating him up inside all this time. Your own heart raced as you felt him kiss you back, his chest finally pressing to yours and your fingers letting go of his collar just long enough to wrap your arms around his neck. His own left your cheeks and slid around your waist, holding you so tight you could barely breathe. You didn’t mind. 

You let your lips part, warm air still unfolding over each other’s faces as you breathed each other in. Your hands threading through the wet strands of his hair as you whispered, “It was never about deserving, Sam… You never have to question what you deserve. I’m in love with you… with every part of you… and you’re just going to have to deal with that.” 

He cleared his throat, lips pressing together, eyes darting away from you for just a moment as he pulled himself together. Through a shaking voice, and an emotional smile tugging over his trembling lips, Sam mumbled, “You’re outta your mind, y’know that…?” 

Your own tearful smile made his heart pound as you brushed his hair out of his eyes. “Maybe I am,” you mumbled. “Still doesn’t change a thing. But... no more, you got that? No more pushing me away, Morgan, or I’ll kill you.” 

His eyes met yours. He nodded his head, shivering against you. “Y-You got it.. I promise. No more. I swear, I won’t be such a jackass ever again.” 

You let out a shaky laugh. “Good.” 

He let his lips touch yours, closing his eyes. “I love you,” he whispered. 

“I love you, t-too,” you murmured back. “I love all of you, Sam.” 

And his lips were kissing yours again, this time fully, this time completely, this time holding nothing back. You gasped at the way it felt, to feel him just let go, to melt into you and hold you so close, and all you wanted was to never, ever feel him let go. Your bodies held together and lips refusing to part, heads tilting, deepening the kiss, your only source of oxygen coming from one another. It was everything. You’d been waiting for him all this time, and now--

“Hey, kids?” a voice broke through, waking you both up, forcing you to pull away and turn to see where it came from. “You two oughtta be gettin’ inside before you freeze to death, it’s damn near arctic out here.” 

You recognized the accent and thick mustache belonging to the security guard, and smiled as Sam laughed at the words. “Y-You’re probably right,” you sniffled, going to part from Sam only to feel him take your hand instead. The guard just chuckled at you both, smirking a little as he turned and headed back inside.

And as you went to park the car, with Sam at your side refusing to let go of your hand, his thumb softly rubbing over every one of your fingers as if he’d never gotten to hold them before, you were overwhelmed with the realization that, all this time, this was what he really needed. To know you meant it. 

And god, if only he really knew just how much you had always loved him, and always would. 

As you stood in the elevator, headed back up to your floor, you turned to him. “You don’t just deserve me, Sam…” His eyes flitted to yours, surprised at the words. “You deserve… everything. You deserve the world.” 

Sam was taken so far aback by the words that when the elevator doors slid open, he didn’t move a muscle. He was just looking at you. Wondering how he got so lucky. And closing the distance between you once again, capturing your lips with his, trying to pour how he felt about you into the kiss, his hand cupping the side of your neck. Thinking…

God… if only you really knew how much he loved you. If only you really knew that you were his world. 

---

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