#B: unbelievable they are happy. i should be happy too but guess why i am not. | Ori: why dont u just try to be above the- | B: you would-

[spotsupstuff]

Whats one silly thing Boreas gets jealous over?

fucking... happiness. being treated right n lovingly. he looks at a baby child laughing while their caring parents smile at them n calls the kid an asshole bitch

[the-wereraven]

Stray Game Thought-Log Part 2

Playtime: 4 hours

*psyches myself up to fight the Zurks*

*looks at eyes on the walls* Creepy bastards

Okay imma get rid of the zurks in my way, should work...

Okay, button time

Fuck you eyes

RUN CAT RUN

AIYEEEE GO AWAY ALL OF YOU AAAAAA

OPEN THE DOOR OPEN THE DOOR

JUMP JUMP JUMP

I'M THROUGH

I LITERALLY PLAYED FOR LDSS THEN 10 MINITES WHY AM I SHAKING

ADRENALINE PLS

STOP LOOKING AT ME WITH THOSE BIG OL' EYES

FUCK YOU EYES

WHAT THE FUCK

MUSIC STOP THAT

WHAT THE FUCK

I DON'T WANNA GO NEAR THAT

GOD DO I HAVE TO DESTROY IT WHAT IS THIS RESIDENT EVIL

UHH LET’S GO I GUESS

FUCK IS THIS A BOSS FIGHT

EW DON'T OPEN

B-12 WHAT THE FUCK

YEAH LET’S GET OUT OF HERE

FUCK IT'S A CHASE SEQUENCE

HOLY SHIT I MADE IT WITHIUT DYING

God B-12 you're not dead are you?

What do I do?

Imma keep pawing you I guess

Oh hey that worked!

What do you mean the Defluxor is destroyed

B-12

THAT WAS OUR ONLY WEAPON

SHIT

Anon said we don't really have to deal with them now so we should be good right?

Right?

*stares down the sewer hall* Yeah fuck that

GASP THE OUTSIDER SYMBOL

Ohh Zurk on a skewer

FRIEND?

Oh I'm needed

B-12 you were what

Holy shit

*gets B-12 lore bombed* :0

Zbaltazar that's an... interesting set up

Aww thanks Zbaltazar :D

B-12 it's okay dude, existential crisis is hard

The robot asked a cat if his poem was too solemn I can't-

Creeture scritch scratch your couch

Okay Isaac

Scritch scratch the carpet

THEY ARE PLAYING MAHJONG!!!!

That's a lot of wins

I want to jump on the mahjong... but... I won't...

I didn't know there are 900 shades of white actually

NO MUMUCH I'M SORRY DON'T BE SAD

Oh you're happy again

Sores the stain on your shawl implies you were sitting there when the paint fell

Can I get back up if I jump in the bucket?

Eh, better not test it

Actually there aren't anymore Zurks... collectibles?

MMMMMMM

Nah

Heloooo? Anyone down there

Oh there's robots down there!

Yeah I'll head down why not

UH

Ohh I got folowr! :D

Who likes flowers?

*knocks a bunch of bottles into the trash pit*

May you like flowers?

Oh I can't give you anything

Alexander?

Aw Alex ):

Maybe Clementine would like flowers

Welp, off I go then

WAIT ZBALTAZAR you want flowers?

No? Okay-

A gardener?

OH I can give the flower to you!

Yellow and purple huh?

Where am I?

Heh, ramenj45

Where am I?

Oh hi again Zbaltazar

SWING

Yes cat sleep

I SEE THE PURPLE FLOWERS

Oh the yellow flowers? But how do I get there?

Am I close?

No-

I'm trying Malo

Where am I?

Not here-

Oh! Got it!

A badge for me! :D

What is this dark tunnel to nowhere

Oh a tunnel to Midtown

A train station?

*walking through the station* Coyotes tip toe in the snow after dark...

Ew so much thrash

Sir?

Hmm

Huh? A police drone?

*translates wanted poster* Uh oh...

Cassette tape...

AH sorry :(

Uhh no thanks I don't want to get in trouble with the police right now

SIR EXCUSE ME? I AM A CAT YOU SHOULD FEEL GRATEFUL THAT I RUBBED AGAINST YOU

Unbelievable

Hi dudes!

See they like me! You Sentinels are stupid

*checks picture address* Uhh

Should be here, but it's blocked?

Hmm

Oh I can hop in

CLEMENTINE WAIT-

Hey! A small recruit is still a recruit

Oh boy an infiltration quest

Ohh what a cozy place up hare

Bomber jacket and gold chain... the fashion robot?

Nope

*sees that I can steal a jacket* Oh... Do I wanna...?

Bomber jacket gold chain...

Oh there's a bar!

Sire your face is upside down

Oh that's why-

Aw the bartender is nice :D

*accidentally knocks down a bowl* AHH I'M SORRY

Uh moving on

Oh wow you're wasted, how do I wake you?

*about to push down a whole box of bottles onto them* :)

Steal worker hat?

...will my actions have consequences?

God where is this dude? Must I steal to get to him?

Okay, I'll get those cams

Haha, suckers

Yeah dance funky robot! :D

Oohh loud music huh?

Hmm :)

Wow that is loud

GET THE JACKET AND GO BEFORE HE SEES US

Okay hat time

*steals hat* Okay now what?

Yes I wanna be a cat worker

WAIT IT'S YOU!!

Your name is Blazer?? Really??

Goddammit you were hiding behind a newspaper

Already got your stuff bud :3

Is it okay for me jump out?

Uh oh, stealth mission

How did I not get caught I was in the light? I think?

Where to go from here...?

*running* HE HE HE

*gets caught in the light* SHIIIIT JUST GO JUST GO

*hides in a box* ...? Yes, got away with it

Oohh puzzles

Bucket ride!

More stealth? You're on!

Puzzle

Nightclub huh?

Go in from the back?

Oh hi! Thanks for letting me in

*spends 5 minutes figuring out what to do*

Good relationship with the Sentinels?

BLAZER YOU FUCKER

WHAT DID YOU DO?!

BITCH??

WHERE THE FUCK

I'M A CAT HOW DARE YOU IMPRISON ME

Son of a bitch

What the fuck are they doing in this place?

Oh god there are dead people here

CLEMENTINE

Shit I can't understand you now

Oh the key, yes

Come on Clementine let's go

B-12!! CLEMENTINE MY FRIEND

Sneak sneak sneak *gets caught*

Sneak sneak sneak *almost gets caught*

B-12! :D

Oh boy...

Sneak sneak sneak *traps a bunch of drones*

BOOKIN IT BOOKIN IT

WEEE

Wait, CLEMENTINE??

NOOO CLEMENTINE

I'LL DO THIS FOR YOU CLEMENTINE

*stands in the train contemplating life*

Hello?

Oh man you guys are... robotic :|

B-12 you're technically not a human so...

Hehe scritch scratch the wires

Turn on the system?? You realize I'm a cat?

OHH *walks on keyboards*

Hmm, alrighty

Scritch scratch the wires hehe

Intruder alert? Uhhh crap-

B-12?

B-12?!

NOOO

NO WAIT B-12

):

I actually cried a bit yeah

At least everyone else is okay but... B-12 ):

DAMN IT WHERE'S MY FAMILY

[jungshookz]

so did ballet jimin and y/n get any... closer on valentines day?? I know that you said you would never write a full fic on them but we the audience would like to see them finally get together or a smut 😔🥺

y/n can barely look jimin in the eye right now so i wouldn’t expect any sMUT any time soon but here’s a suRPRISE DRABBLE-

➺ pairing; park jimin x reader

➺ genre; balletteacher!jiminiverse!!! fluff :-)

➺ wordcount: 1.6k 

➺ what to expect; just because he’s single doesn’t mean he has to be so bitter on a day that’s dedicated to expressing your love for your significant other.

➺ readings: part one; part two 

➺ note; every time i tell myself the balletteacher!jimin storyline isn’t going anywhere my brain spazzes and couGhs out another chunk of the story so i’m retracting my statement of ‘i’m never going to give them a fic’ and replacing that with ‘idk????? mAYBE????? but IDK!!!!!! probably not but also probably yES??’ ok bye please accept this short drabble that’s too long to be a baby drabble  

                                 »»————-　♡　————-««

jimin completely forgot about the existence of valentine’s day because:

a) why the hell would he remember it in the first place and

b) there literally is nO point of valentine’s day??

like why can’t you prove your love to your significant other on any other day??? why does it have to be february 14th specifically??

so yeah that’s his general take on valentine’s day

the only good thing to come out of valentine’s day is the next day when all the chocolates and candies go on sale

one of his guilty pleasures are those decadent chocolate-covered strawberries

he thinks there should be a day dedicated to eating chocolate-covered strawberries

now thAT he would celebrate and cancel class for

but valentine’s day?

hAH

nope

basicaLLy you guys usually come in three times a week (monday, wednesday, friday) and valentine’s day just so happened to fall on a friday which, in his defence, is completely out of his control

and yeah he knows that some of you were disappointed to find that he hadn’t cancelled class but he aLso knows that no one’s going to pipe up and argue with him because you’re all terrified of him

with that being said he does feel a teeny bit bad

before class on wednesday he heard a couple girls talking about how they had to cancel their plans with their significant others and how it suCked that they were going to be stuck here dancing all night instead of going to the movies or going to a nice dinner oR getting laid lol

unrelated: he noticed that you didn’t contribute anything to the conversation when everyone was going around sharing what their would-be valentine’s day plans were

either you’re very secretive or you’re single

and he’s hoping it’s the latter

which he thinks is 98% the case because of the incident (“i would 100% love to sit on park jimin’s face because i, y/n y/l/n, am 110% attracted to him.”)

anyways

yeah

he felt a liTTLe bad

just because he’s single doesn’t mean he has to be so bitter on a day that’s dedicated to expressing your love for your significant other

…which is why he bought a dozen single-stemmed roses aNd he tied a little satin bag containing two hershey kisses to each rose

at first he was just going to get everyone red roses but then he thought that thAt was crossing a line of professionalism so then he settled on light pink

to be honest he felt a little silly on the drive to class because he feels like doing this is going to make him seem less authoritative and make you guys leSS scared of him

but it’s fine

he’ll just yell at someone and then his power will fall right back into his hands

“now, i’m well aware that today is valentine’s day.” jimin clears his throat as he sets the basket full of roses down on the ground

he can see all of your eyes flicking in between him and the flowers

“and i know that some of you had plans tonight that had to be cancelled because of class,” jimin continues on and notices you getting up on your tip toes to peek over lisa’s shoulder at the basket

cute :’)

wait what

uh

he means.,,. um,..,

noTHING

“contrary to popular belief, i do have a sympathetic bone in my body.” that gets a chuckle out of some people but everyone shuts up promptly when jimin raises a brow

“so everyone gets a rose and some chocolates from me as a…” jimin pauses and thinks for a second “as an i’m-sorry-happy-valentine’s-day hybrid… gift? i’m also giving you twenty minutes to sit around and… talk… to each other, or… whatever it is you do when i’m not around.”

he clears his throat again

he can see the confusion swimming in everyone’s eyes

god

why is being nice so HARD

“what i’m saying is that today is… less about dancing - we’ll stiLL be dancing i’m not saying that class is cancelled - and more about… i don’t know. being… together? i guess?” he reaches up to scratch the back of his neck awkwardly

…

coughs

“you know what, just- just talk amongst yourselves while i hand these friggin flowers out. dispErse.” jimin flicks his wrist and everyone immediately relaxes from the stiff first position you have to stay in when jimin’s talking

“i’m not gonna lie, that was painful to watch.” wendy mutters under her breath and you stifle a giggle

“aw, give him a break, he’s trying to be nice for once!” ailee teases as a couple of you get settled on the ground

it is actually really nice of him to do this

the nicest thing he’s ever done for the class was that one time he extended the mid-class break by one minute

you’re barely paying attention to the conversation because your eyes keep wandering over to jimin as he hands out the flowers to everyone

most of the girls are getting all blushy and giggly before they’re curtseying to him

as he approaches your group you scramble up from the floor before you get the chance to fix one of your leg warmers (they’re heaRT patterned!!!!!) so now one is pulled up the other one is still pushed down

but it’s too late to fix it because mr park is here so

“thank you, mr park.” seulgi offers him what yoU think are painfully obvious bedroom eyes and you resist the urge to scoff

of course you can’t call her out on it because then she’s going to say something about how you’re just jealous because you have a crush on him blah blah blah

which you DO but you’re not planning to actually admit that to anyone anytime soon

you’re still trying to get everyone off your back about the incident

right now everyone thinks you only said you had a crush on jimin just to get seulgi to pipe down and you’re just going with that because you can’t imagine the merciless teasing if people find out you actually like jimin 

the jokes have died down a little bit but everyone’s going to remember that day for the rest of their lives

like the other day jisoo came to class wearing a new lipstick and you said it was pretty on her and then she proceeded to ask if she was pretty enough for you to want to sit on her face  and everyone found that hiLARIOUS

“-i hope you don’t mind, miss y/l/n-“ you straighten up when jimin gets to you

“sir?” 

you almost let out a fond sigh when he smiles lightly at you 

he’s just so unbelievably handsome 

you’re the last in line and everyone else is (as instructed) talking amongst themselves anD enjoying their chocolates

“there weren’t enough pink roses in the store…” jimin trails off and you let your eyes drop for a split second

oh

well

that’s okay!

it’s the thought that counts

you try to hide your disappointment but jimin notices the way your shoulders droop just a tiny bit

“which is why i got you a lavender one. i know it’s not a traditional colour, but…” jimin presents you with the baby purple rose and you feel your entire boDy spring back to life

suddenly you feel your cheeks tingling with heat and your heart starts to pound in your chest as you accept the rose from him

“it’s very pretty, mr park. thank you.” you smile politely and give it a sniff

roses always smell so goOd

“ah- uh, yes. you’re welcome.”

“happy valentine’s day, mr park.” you blurt out before you can stop yourself and your eyes widen a little bit

oops

was that inappropriate?? 

because it felt inappropriate even though today is literally valentine’s day

and it looks like jimin wasn’t expecting that either considering the slight flush on his face

you’re about to start apologising profuSELY and you’re [this] close to returning the rose before he-

“…happy valentine’s day, miss y/l/n.” he smiles fondly and falters for a second before nodding once and walking off

“god, you can tell these are the expensive roses, too.” seulgi sighs as she gives her flower another heArty whiff

“ooh, i found it!” jisoo raises her phone and everyone turns to look at her

class ended ten minutes ago and everyone’s packing up now and wendy was wondering what light pink roses represented just out of curiosity so jisoo volunteered to look it up 

“associated with gentleness and admiration, light pink roses lets the receiver know that they are a pleasure to behold – an indication of joy. light pink roses can also be used to express sympathy and saying thank you.” everyone immediately bursts into coos of adoration

“oh my god, he’s so sweet…”

“i think i’m, like, actually in love with him!”

“when he handed me my rose i actually considered breaking up with my boyfriend-“

“oh my god sAME-“

you make sure your rose is tucked safely away in your duffle bag before you pull your phone out

time to do your oWn google searching

aH

okay

here it is 

‘the lavender rose is often a sign of enchantment and love at first sight. those who have been enraptured by feelings of love and adoration have used lavender roses to express their romantic feelings and intentions.’

you swallow thickly as you feel your heart flutter in your chest

oh boy

(jimin just hopes you bought his excuse)

(of couRSE the store didn’t run out of light pink roses)

help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a request)

requested drabbles masterlist

[marvelousstevetony]

If you’re still taking prompts can you do “mission in the rain” for stony with sick steve?

I’m going to apologize in advance, anon, for being so late to answer this, and also for how... not great this is. Tbh, this is a mess, but I’ll post it anyway🥲

Thank you for the prompt, though! Hopefully I’ll get back into the flow of writing soon!

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

“See this,” Tony starts, “this is why I don’t trust Fury.” He’s stomping the ground like a petulant child, arms folded over his chest even though he’s wearing the armour, illustrating just how sulky he is. In addition, the glare he’s sporting almost makes Clint’s arrows seem harmless, and Steve can hear the sharpness in his voice, even over the loud drumming of the rain.

“Tony—“

“I mean,” Steve is interrupted before he has to say anything else, “this was supposed to be easy. Get in quickly, then get the hell out even faster.”

Steve sighs. It’s not like he’s disagreeing with Tony, no, quite the opposite actually. But moping never does any good, so Steve takes a deep breath and continues walking.

Tony is right, though, he thinks. Although Fury hadn’t presented them with a lot of details about the Hydra facility, he had told them that it had recently been abandoned and that all they’d have to do was look it over and hopefully gather information about their new base.

Turns out it wasn’t abandoned, and as soon Tony and Steve had entered the building, they’d been ambushed. Tony had already started cursing Fury when he took out the first Hydra agent, and though none of the agents were particular great fighters (compared to Iron Man and Captain America), there’d been a lot of them.

They’d taken all of them out, but definitely not as easily as if there’d been more than the two of them. ‘That won’t be necessary,’ Fury had said. He might’ve changed his mind if he had known Tony would leave the facility with a malfunctioning armour and no way for them to get away. The car they’d driven there in had been blown up pretty quickly, just like the rest of all the vehicles.

As soon as they’d finished the group of assassins off they’d contacted Fury and the team, but they were a few hours out. The Hydra agents had called for reinforcement when they realized they were losing, but the two Avengers had escaped before a new lineup showed up. There’s no chance of going back, though, and with no other choice, they’d set off on foot.

And that’s how the two of them ended up in the middle of nowhere during one of the worst rainstorms Steve can recall since waking up in the 21st century.

Tony huffs exasperatedly, and steps in a puddle with great force so it splashes.

“They’ll b-be here s-soon,” Steve says, teeth clattering. He’s trying to stay optimistic, but it’s hard, especially with the severe pounding in his head and the full-body chills.

“Yeah, right,” Tony grumbles. “They probably stopped for donuts on their way… Are you cold?” He asks when Steve shivers violently next to him.

“N-no,” Steve replies, but even to him, it sounds unbelievable.

Tony snorts, but he’s tired and his body is achy all over. He doesn’t have the energy to call Steve out on his shit this time, so they continue walking in silence, the only sounds coming from the heavy rain, Steve’s teeth rattling and Tony’s puffs of air from keeping up with Steve’s pace.

At some point, they reach a road on the edge of a forest where Tony’s almost certain that Hydra wouldn’t find them. He just wants to sit down, if only for a few minutes. The suit’s not too heavy, but it’s broken and there’s nothing to lighten the weight, so after walking for miles, Tony could use a break.

From the looks of it, Steve could too. His posture is sloppy, shoulders hunched forward, head ducking low as if to avoid the rain hitting him in the face.

Coming to think of it, Tony’s happy for the suit, despite the slightly increased weight. Although he isn’t wearing the helmet, it keeps his body dry, and that… that can’t be said about Steve’s uniform. The red, white, and blue suit is drenched all the way through. The colors are darker than normal, and it clung even tighter to Steve than it usually does. Tony wonders why it isn’t waterproof, or at least somewhat water-resistant. On the other hand, maybe it is and is simply not able to compete with the tempestuous downpour.

“Don’t you think it’s time for break?” Tony asks, and Steve casts him a questioning glance. “Hydra wouldn’t find us in there,” Tony says and nods at the forest.

Steve looks like he might just argue and say that they should just continue walking. But then he eyes the woodland and sighs. “You’re r-right,” he stammers. “I g-guess there’s n-no real reason to k-keep walking. They’ll f-find us s-soon.”

They settle beneath a tree with large leaves, somewhat shielding them from the rain. Not that it really matters, Steve’s soaked anyway.

They both let out a relieved noise when they slump back against the trunk of the tree, and Steve takes off his cowl, revealing a blond mop of hair that’s just as wet as the rest of him.

They catch their breath for a few minutes, and Tony’s almost starting to relax a bit. Next to him though, Steve’s entire body shudders. He curls into a ball, hugging his knees close to his chest, jaw visibly shaking.

“You can’t seriously tell me you’re not freezing, Steve,” Tony says, but it soft and in no way mocking.

“I’m okay,” Steve forces through clenched teeth. “They’ll b-be here snf! s-s-soon.”

Sighing, Tony rests his head back against the tree, letting his eyes slip shut. He could probably fall asleep, had it not been for the raindrops that hits him right on his closed eyelid every once in a while, making him flinch.

Steve, on the other hand, definitely isn’t on the verge of dropping off. When Tony cracks an eye open to look at him, he’s still trembling violently, but now he’s also scrubbing at his nose and eyes, and at one point he’s overtaken by a harsh coughing fit that leaves him gasping for air.

Tony frowns at him with questioning eyes. Steve either doesn’t understand that Tony was trying to wordlessly ask him if he was okay, or else he just doesn’t want to answer, because as soon as he catching a glimpse of Tony’s face, he looks away and leans forward to rest his forehead on his knees.

Tony, who lost all sense of time long ago, doesn’t know how long they sit like that before he hears the reassuring sound of the Quinjet. When they get on board, Fury and Hill are there, alongside Natasha, who greets them with a sympathetic smile that somehow still manages to be very smirk-like.

“Damn, Steve, you look like a drowned rat,” she states, and it’s not like either of them can argue with that; he’s dripping, leaving puddles after him everywhere he goes, and his hair is clinging to his face like a leech. “There’s spare clothes in the back,” she says and throws a thumb over her shoulder. Steve mumbles a quiet thanks as he leaves, his boots making squeaky noises whenever he takes a step.

By now, Tony’s stepped out of the suit, which, despite its broken parts, kept him surprisingly dry. He winces, however, at how much time he’d spent on upgrading it, only for it to be destroyed a couple of days later. Oh well, he thinks then. It’s not like he doesn’t like having an excuse to work in the lab for a few extra hours.

Although he’s not wet, and not particularly cold wither, Nat offers him a blanket, which he wraps around his shoulders. “He’s really quiet today,” she mumbles as she casts a glance over her shoulder.

Tony hums in agreement. “He’s tired. So am I.”

“That’s reasonable, I guess.” Nat offers a small smile, but her face falls, eyebrows twisting into a frown, as soon they hear the sound of Steve’s gravelly, throat-scraping coughs from the back of the Quinjet. “He seems a little more than just tired, though.”

“Probably,” Tony concurs when Steve comes into sight, now clad in a dry pair of sweats and a Stark Industries hoodie. His hair is still drenched, though, and his for all that Steve’s face is concernedly pale, his cheeks are still flushed from the cold. He’s dragging his feet towards them, slowly, with his shoulders hunched, and Tony think that he must be every bit as exhausted as he looks. “You okay?”

Steve draws in a long breath. Tony waits to hear him say that he’s fine, just like he always does, but when all Steve does is sigh heavily, Tony is immediately alarmed.

Even though it’s nearly imperceptible, Tony does notice, of course he does, that Steve is swaying slightly as he takes the final steps towards them. Ocean blue eyes are unfocused when Tony searches for them with his own, looking glazed over and weary.

Natasha moves nervously when Steve still hasn’t answered and shoots Tony a look. “Steve?” she prompts, and Steve snaps his head to the side to looks at her, but he instantly squeezes his eyes shut as his breath catches.

“Okay,” Tony says, getting to his feet. “You should sit down.” Placing his hands on Steve’s elbows, he guides the blonde to a seat and sits down in the one next to him. Natasha is quickly at his other side and rests a delicate hand of his shoulder.

“So… definitely not okay,” she concludes.

“Sorry,” Steve murmurs, jaw tight. “I-I don’t… I just got dizzy for a minute there. I’m sorry, I think I’m okay now.” Despite saying that he’s okay, his voice is distant, and he still hasn’t opened his eyes.

Tony can feel the tension in his body as he put a hand on Steve’s back, and just moments later, he senses the way Steve is trembling. “Shit, Steve, you’re shaking!” Tony gasps, and if to prove him right, Steve gives a full-body shudder.

Natasha cups the super-soldier’s face and grimaces as she touches the scalding cheeks. “He’s burning up,” she announces, directing the words at Tony, who is now also cradling Steve’s face.

The difference in temperature must feel heavenly to Steve, because he melts into the touch and lets out a sound that’s somewhere between a sigh and a moan.

“Damn,” Tony mutters under his breath. “Guy’s hotter than the sun, in more than one way.” Natasha rolls her eyes, and Tony smirks slightly at her dismay. “Jarvis, give me a rundown of Cap here, please.”

“Certainly, sir,” comes the British accent. “Captain Rogers is currently running a temperature of 103.7 and climbing. Additionally, I detect an inflammation of the respiratory passages. Although I am not programmed to be medically enlightened, I believe Captain Rogers is showing symptoms of influenza.”

“We need to get his fever down,” Natasha says and Tony gives a stiff nod. “I doubt we have anything on the jet that’ll help, but I’ll get him some water.”

Tony nods again, then sighs when he turns back to Steve who is still pressing in face into Tony’s palm, eyes closed and mouth hanging slightly open. He’s also still shaking like a leaf, huddled in on himself with his knees hugged tightly to his chest.

“Steve?” Tony says softly, brushing his thumb over a cut on Steve’s cheek. He gets no response. “Steve, you with me?” He tries again.

Steve opens his eyes slowly and looks at Tony. His are glassy, face is pinched in discomfort, and he looks like he needs about forty-eight hours of sleeps, but at least he isn’t unconscious, Tony thinks.

“Hey, sunshine” the brunette whispers and forces a smile, smoothing a hand over Steve’s hair.

Steve must detect the worry, because he suddenly looks so sad and, in a way, guilty. “I’m sorry,” he croaks. “I’m… I—"

“Shhh… Don’t be sorry, honey. We’re home soon, okay? Then we’ll get you feeling better.”

Steve is looking directly at him with a confused expression, like he didn’t hear a word Tony just said, when Natasha reappears behind Tony with a bottle in her hand.

“How is he?” She asks, sitting down and unscrewing the cap as she holds out the bottle for Steve to take. He eyes it for a couple of seconds, then accepts it with sluggish, shaky movements and brings it to his dry, cracked lips.

“He’s completely out of it,” Tony sighs, and when Steve doesn’t object, Tony figures it’s as much of a confirmation as he’s gonna get.

Natasha, who is known to be the most stoic Avenger, is now decidedly worried. Her mouth is a straight line, and the crease between her brows is deeper than Tony has ever seen it. “Steve,” she says softly. When he lifts his head slightly, she gives him a small smile and brushes a stray strand of hair away from his forehead. “Hey there, soldier.”

Steve’s lips curl just enough to make the weak smile visible. “Hey… I’m—“ Suddenly, Steve is taken over by a harsh, throat-scraping coughing fit that leaves him gasping for air and clutching his chest. “Sorry.”

Tony rubs a comforting hand up and down Steve’s spine as he regains composure. Natasha just shakes her head at him and says, “It’s okay… How long have you been feeling like this?”

“I… I’m not sure. Not long,” he adds when both Natasha and Tony sigh. “I snf! I was fine during the m-mission, but then it just hit me all at once.”

“Definitely the flu, then,” Natasha confirms. “I guess you’re on super-sick-super-soldier duty tonight, Stark.”

“Yeah, I think this one is in desperate need of some TLC,” Tony says, shuffling closer to Steve to let him rest his head against his shoulder. Steve settles in close, his warm breath tickling on Tony’s neck as he lets out a tired yet please sigh. His eyes have slipped shut again, and his body is slowly going slack against Tony’s, melting into the caring hold. “I don’t mind, though,” he mumbles into Steve’s damp hair and places a gentle kiss in there, too.

Natasha smiles fondly at them; cuddled up in the small seats, Steve’s larger body curled into a ball with all his weight against Tony. “I’ll handle debrief,” she says, and Tony’s expression softens immediately with gratitude. “You focus on getting that one,” she looks at Steve, “back to full health.”

“I’ll get him feeling better,” Tony assures her, looks down at Steve whose breath has evened out, and smiles warmly as he kisses Steve’s temple.

[despairofthefuture]

She may be looking for Sonia Nevermind, the Ultimate Princess, or Gundham Tanaka, the Ultimate Breeder. They're both into dark occult stuff. They're also in the same class as Chiaki and Ryota. I think they're pretty close friends, so if you find one you'll probably find the other not far off.

"Princess!?" Hiro repeats, his eyes widening. "There's a princess at this school!?"

"As amazingly cool as that is-" Leon says, trying to bring them back on topic. "-this Gundham dude....Why would a...breeder know about occult bullshit?"

"The same reason a princess would?" Hiro mutters under his breath.

Chihiro furrows his brow in thought, the small boy looking very worried. "W-well, Mukuro did say it had nothing to do with his talent." He reminds them. "So perhaps it's a hobby of his?"

"Well, regardless, this is all we have to go on, and you guys havent been wrong yet!" Leon says determinedly, flashing the spirits a grin. "Since Mukuro specifically said 'he', we should check up on this Gundham weirdo first. So hurry the hell up, Hiro! Look up this Gundham guy!"

The clairvoyant nods and does as he was told, looking up a picture of Gundham Tanaka. When he finds one he stares at it in surprise. "This...this guy works with animals?" He asks, stunned.

Leon looks over his friend's shoulder and raises a brow. "Damn. Yeah, he looks more like an Ultimate Clairvoyant than you do! He obviously seems to be embracing the occult for a start!"

This earns the ghost a glare, but Hiro quickly shakes his head and returns his phone to his pocket. "Well, whatever. We know what he looks like, so let's go to his dorm."

As he begins making his way there, Chihiro frowns. "You know, the fact that Mukuro knows about this Gundham means she and Junko must have been studying him, or at the very least his class." He points out. "Which would make sense considering how much of her plan revolves around 77-B." His face saddens. "Poor guys. It's bad enough Junko put us, her classmates and friends through something like a killing game, but to basically torture a whole other class?"

"Its sick." Leon agrees, his eyes narrowed angrily. "She's sick."

Hiro simply nods in response, a frown on his face as he walks. Suddenly, he freezes in place. "Wait, what about Hajime?!" He asks. "I was supposed to meet up with him and-"

"That can wait a minute!" Leon interrupts him. "If we dont hurry and stop Mukuro, who the hell knows what could happen!"

Hiro nods in understanding, breaking out into a sprint towards the dorms, causing a brown haired boy in a Reserve Course uniform to look up and give him an annoyed look as he passed.

~~~

Hiro was thankfully able to find Gundham's room with relative ease. As he stands in front of the Ultimate Breeder's door, he hesitates.

"Dude, what's the hold up?" Leon asks impatiently.

Hiro frowns and begins picking at his skin. "Its just...the energy surrounding this room...its...really heavy and...dark..." He mutters.

Leon groans and rolls his eyes. "Oh for the love of-Hurry the hell up!" He snaps.

Hiro sighs and nods, reaching a hand up and knocking on the door.

A quiet exchange of voices could be heard along with some shuffling until the door is opened.

"Who dares disturb the Overlord of-"

The boy behind the door stops when he sees Hiro. The two lock eyes, and a wave of energy courses through the clairvoyant.

The extravagantly dressed man before Hiro stares at him for a moment more before he smirks. "Heh. I had thought the dark lady and myself were the only ones dabbling in the forbidden arts, but I can sense they run through your veins as well."

Hiro blinks in surprise at the guy's strange speech patterns. "Uh...i-if by 'forbidden arts' you mean fortune telling, then yeah!" Hiro finally responds, forcing a smile onto his face. "My names Yasuhiro Hagakure. I'm the Ultimate Clairvoyant!"

The other man lets out an impressed hum. "Clairvoncy, hm? Then have your visions sent you to my side for the aid of my dark powers?!" He suddenly poses in a strange way, and Hiro blinks in confusion.

"Uh...y-yeah. More or less. Youre... Gundham Tanaka, right?" He asks, scratching his head as he begins to regret coming here.

Gundham's smirk widens as he nods. "My reputation of course precedes me. Indeed, that is my name! GUNDHAM TANAKA!" The...eccentric fellow bellows out his name, cause Chihiro to flinch slightly.

Leon rolls his eyes. "Dear Lord this guy is gonna be annoying." He mutters.

Hiro gives a subtle nod in agreement before forcing the smile onto his face again. "Well, great! Do you, uh, mind if I come in, Gundham?'

Gundham shakes his head and steps to the side. "But of course not! A fellow user of the dark arts is always welcome in my abode!" He declares. "Although my Third Eye has failed me, for I did not forsee your visit." The breeder suddenly blushes, catching Hiro even more off guard as the man attempts to hide the flush by raising his scarf over his face. "I currently have...company over. The dark princess, Sonia Nevermind. But do not fear! I am training her to be my apprentice, so you need not hold your tongue with anything you must tell me!" He declares with finality as he turns with a flourish and walks into his room.

Hiro stands still for a moment longer, sharing an unsure look with Leon and Chihiro, before following the breeder into his room and closing the door behind him.

The dark atmosphere Hiro had felt from outside the door was tripled the moment he took a step inside, and he shivered. Gundham's room was dark, light blotting curtains hung at the windows that allowed the only light inside the room to be the many lit candles that were scattered around. There was a bookcase against one of the walls, and on it several heavy looking leather cased books.

"Well I guess we found the right guy." Leon mutters.

Hiro nods in agreement as he continues scanning the environment. His gaze stops at something that seemed out of place. A brightly colored hamster cage where four happy looking hamster were currently rested inside.

"Well, he is the Ultimate Breeder." Hiro thinks to himself. "I guess it would be more weird if there wasnt anything animal related here."

"Oh, Gundham! You have company!" A sweet, feminine voice speaks up, causing Yasuhiro to turn his head in its direction. He couldnt help but stare. There was a beautiful blonde girl, sat upon Gundham's bed.

"Indeed I do, dark mistress." Gundham confirms, coming to a stop in front of the hamster cage. He opens the lid and places some treats inside, the four critters skittering over to them and eating them hungrily. "He says his name is Yasuhiro." A grin spreads on his face as he turns from his four pets. "He is also a user of the arts."

The girl, who Hiro assumes to be Sonia Nevermind, gasps and clasps her hands together excitedly. "Really?!" She exclaims happily. "There is another one at the school?!"

"It indeed seems that way, Sonia." The breeder confirms, his gaze going to Hiro. "He says he is a clairvoyant, and that he received a vision that called him to me."

Sonia gasps and looks to Hiro as well. "Is that so? Then please! I insist you inform us of the details of your vision at once!"

For some reason Hiro felt extremely compelled to bow towards the upperclasswoman and the need to hurry with the explanation. He blinks and clears his throat, attempting to calm his nerves. "R-right. Well, it's a long...and, well, pretty unbelievable story if I'm being honest." He sighs before continuing. "But I swear to you, Buddha, Gandhi, Mother Earth or whatever deity you believe in its true.

It started when my classmate Junko Enoshima came to me, asking me to read her future...."

~~~

"...and then Mukuro mentioned someone else with knowledge of...occult stuff." Hiro finishes explaining, holding back the urge to explain his distaste for the occult. "And the spirits mentioned it could be one of you two." He looks between Sonia and Gundham, both of which look extremely surprised. "And since Mukuro said 'he' we went to your room first." He chuckles and rubs the back of his neck. "So...yeah. We wanted to make sure Mukuro's ghost...future ghost...didnt come here and find something she could use."

Gundham stares at the clairvoyant for a while, seemingly at a loss for words. Finally he clears his throat. "Well...that certainly is...quite the ordeal." The breeder recovers quickly, a grin forming on his face as he poses. "However you are in luck! I am quite skilled in this department, and while I cannot see your apparitions-" He walks over to his bookshelf and shifts through the many books before letting out a soft 'ah ha!' and pulling out a rather large one. He flips through it before placing his finger on a page. He then begins muttering something, which causes Hiro to frown and shift uncomfortably.

Gundham's eyes close, and a soft wind suddenly blows through the room, despite there being no open window. When he opens his eyes, he meets Hiro's eyes. They then shift over to Leon and Chihiro, his grin turning to a smirk.

"Ah ha! Hello there, fiends!" He looks over to see the shimmering outlines of the unknown spirits. "And to you as well."

Hiro's eyes widen in surprise. "You...you can see them?!"

"Of course!" Gundham boasts, slamming the book shut with one hand. "Did you believe these tombs were for show?!"

Hiro holds his tongue.

"Now I can be of more help to you and your miss-" He stops, his gaze slowly moving over to his bookshelf. He narrows his eyes. "....I assume this is the fiendish ghoul you mentioned."

Hiro blinks before following his gaze. His eyes widen further. There, looking through the books, was Mukuro's ghost.

Gundham Tanaka can now hear you! He is open for questions!

A/N: I hope things arent getting too crazy lol. I promise everything has a purpose! Supernatural stuff is canon in Danganronpa, and its especially important in this AU, so please bare with me lmao

[jackoshadows]

What are your thoughts on Jon-Bran-Tyrion & their relationship in TWoW & ADoS?

I have read that in GRRM original-idea [?] Jon was to rival Tyrion [because of their love over Arya] as well as Bran for the sake of Northern Power [& Arya apparently too, but not in the same sense??]

[No idea what Bran & Tyrion's relationship was suppose to/could look like, don't think GRRM has mention smth]

That being said, I can get behind Tyrion vs Jon, alright. But Jon vs Bran? How is that suppose to look like/work?

Even if we ignore that they think of each other fondly & miss each other, and that I don't see a reason why this would change all of a sudden... Or that Jon will likely gain the support of the North in TWoW, since he rather fit the "perfect image of an Lord", since he is a able-bodied, traditional [swords-] man, grown & proven as Leader/Lord Commander, has the same education as Robb did, is the eldest Son of Eddard, etc....

[Although I guess Lords like Manderly could prefer Rickon, so they can grap power as his custodian/regents? And the whole being-dead-but-not-anymore-&-what-about-the-oaths thing could be a little tricky & stuff😅] while Bran will likely remain longer behind the Wall, won't be able to rally allies & bannermen [Althouse I have read the speculation of Bran, The Blizzard and The Battle of Ice, my main concern is again the pacing:where Bran's plot seems on overdrive, while Jon's & all those around & in Winterfell are on hold in order for Bran to come back. It's the same problem for me with all those "speculations" about Dany & arriving way to early in Westeros] ...

But the thing that makes it so unbelievable for me is: the fricking age gap?! Put aside their feelings for each other, who is more likely to gain poltical support & all of that, Bran will be like 11 & Jon 18-19? Like... a rivalry between a elementary school student & a high school graduate? 😂🙊

I think for certain that there will be some kind of conflict between Jon and Tyrion. Them shaking hands on the Wall and calling each other friends is foreshadowing a friends to enemies arc, IMO.

As for Jon and Bran, it's hard to see this happening, but I am not ruling out the possibility - meaning that I won't be surprised if it happens. As you mentioned, a Jon/Bran rivalry/bitter estrangement was one of the major parts of the story in the original outline.

By the end of A Game of Thrones,------------------------------------- ---------------------------------g--------------- onto the iron throne with a bit----------------premature death, Bran sits free.--Yet his seat is hardly a comfortable one. In the North, Jon Snow is his bitter enemy. Beyond the narrow sea, Daenerys Stormborn prepares her invasion and on the far side of the Wall, the others are watching with cold dead eyes and gathering their strength.

Can this still happen? I think so. I have always said that GRRM likes his themes of dysfunctional families, conflict among family members and the human heart in conflict with itself and again, I don't see why the Starks should be the exception.

But I think it is a mistake to generalize about “the Westerlings,”  just as it would be to generalize about “the Lannisters.” Members of the same family have very different characters, desires, and ways of   looking at the world… and there are secrets within families as well.

GRRM SSM, May 01, 2001

The reason Sansa even exists as a character in the first place is because he wanted family conflict among the Starks.

Arya was one of the first characters created. Sansa came about as a total opposite b/c too many of the Stark family members were getting along and families aren’t like that.

Why would Jon and Bran have a rivalry? That I cannot speculate on, yet. We still have a lot of story to cover. But in the next book, my speculation is that both Jon and Bran would have changed a lot.

Bran is the current Lord of Winterfell/Heir to the North/Robb's Heir and King in the North. Robb's decree legitimizing Jon Stark could be a possible issue between them.

GRRM has said that death and resurrection changes a person and Jon is going to be spending time in a wolf. A resurrected Jon Snow coming back more wolfish and more hungry. Remember this?

He wanted it, Jon knew then. He wanted it as much as he had ever wanted anything. I have always wanted it, he thought, guiltily. May the gods forgive me. It was a hunger inside him, sharp as a dragonglass blade. A hunger … he could feel it. It was food he needed, prey, a red deer that stank of fear or a great elk proud and defiant. He needed to kill and fill his belly with fresh meat and hot dark blood. His mouth began to water with the thought. - Jon, ASoS

GRRM ties in his desire for Winterfell to a deep hunger that then connects to Ghost - his hunger for Winterfell intermingling with Ghost's hunger...

Remember the kings in the North of yore, like Ice Eyes. I doubt Jon Stark is going to hold back much. He's going to be doing some really messed up stuff.

Meanwhile, Bran's heavily involved in the magical stuff beyond the wall. Has connections to Bloodraven, the Children of the forest, can influence timelines (Hodor), unearth past truths and will be one of the most powerful greenseers. Blood sacrifice and human sacrifice is a big part of the dark magic of the north. Maybe they fight over how to defeat the Others? I think Bran's connection to the children of the forest is how they win again this time around - and his relationship with Jon suffers because of that?

Bran ends up King on the Iron Throne and Jon Snow ends up in the lands beyond the wall - just the opposite of what we would expect for these two characters considering where they are now and what we know of them (R+L=J) etc. How does this happen?

Anyways, according to GRRM, TWoW is a very dark book and if there is a Jon-Bran rivalry, we may see the seeds of it being planted in this book.

There are a lot of dark chapters right now in the book that I’m writing,” he said during a Q&A at the Guadalajara International Book Fair, according to Entertainment Weekly. “It is called The Winds of Winter, and I’ve been telling you for 20 years that winter was coming. Winter is the time when things die, and cold and ice and darkness fill the world, so this is not going to be the happy feel-good that people may be hoping for. Some of the characters [are] in very dark places.”

This is why I find all the Dark!Dany stuff slightly hilarious. Is Dany going to do things that go against the Geneva conventions (lol) in the next book? Yeah, I think so. She is going to come back from her sojourn at Vaes Dothrak and be like I have had it with these effing slavers and go all Aegon the Conqueror on them (About time I say, she should have done it a while ago). But I am pretty damn sure most of our characters are going to become darker in the next book. Tyrion is already on a downward spiral, Jon will surely go on a rampage against the Boltons, Bran most probably eating Jojen paste over there and learning dark magic, getting taught by Bloodraven, Sansa participating in the slow poisoning of her little cousin in the Vale and have you read Arya's Mercy chapter? That stuff is dark.

As for the rest, I think we should ignore the age gap like GRRM is planning on doing ( GRRM sees his young people as adults anyway - "Arya has the experiences of a 40 year old, If a 12 year old has to conquer the world then so be it" etc.) and I do think he will include some time gaps in the next two books allowing for travel etc. I am pretty sure Arya will end the books at 14.

Bran, Dany and Arya's plots have to be in overdrive in the next book out of necessity. Bran has to advance a lot in his plot, be used to build up the Others as a big threat, give us more info about the Children, Bloodraven, what is actually happening, Hodor etc. - there's just so much stuff here that GRRM has to write. Same with Dany. Dany has to wind up in Meereen, land in Westeros and start her campaign. Same with Arya. I think that's why they will get the most chapters, and time in the next book.

[ryqoshay]

Happy Life: Angelic Hug

Primary Pairing: YohaRiko Words: ~2.1k Rating: G AU: Angelic? Time Frame: First week of Riko’s 1st year of college and Yoshiko’s 3rd year of high school Story Arc: Stand Alone

----------

Author’s Note: Inspired by a prompt from a reader.

----------

Riko set her phone down on her desk, having just read the last departing messages from her friends after she had announced that she needed to get back to her studies. Or, at least she thought that had been all of the messages. No sooner than her hand left the device than it vibrated with a new notification. Curious, Riko picked it back up and unlocked the screen.

Odd, there was nothing new in the group chat. However, changing threads revealed that the new message was in one of her private chats.

TheFallenAngel: Ne, Riri!

SakurauchiRiko: What’s up?

TheFallenAngel: Is everything alright?

SakurauchiRiko: Yes

SakurauchiRiko: Why?

TheFallenAngel: I just got the feeling that you were deflecting a lot in our group chat

TheFallenAngel: Or at least more than usual

TheFallenAngel: Like a lot more than usual

TheFallenAngel: And you know my fallen angel senses will tell me when something is wrong with one of my favored little demons

TheFallenAngel: So again is everything really alright?

Riko sighed. Of course, now of all times would be when Yoshiko chose to be empathic. The younger girl had a knack for picking up on cues that others missed while regularly remaining oblivious to things most would consider obvious. Still, this had led to Yoshiko becoming one of Riko’s confidants. For some things.

SakurauchiRiko: I guess I’m just a little stressed

SakurauchiRiko: Between moving and starting classes in a new school it’s like Uchiura all over again

SakurauchiRiko: Only this time I don’t have someone like Chika-chan to help make the transition

TheFallenAngel: Have you reached out to anyone from Otonokizaka?

SakurauchiRiko: I thought of that

SakurauchiRiko: But the few friends I made in my first year aren’t in the area any more

TheFallenAngel: Well it’s still your first week

TheFallenAngel: Yohane has faith that someone as amazing as Riri will make plenty of new friends

Riko smiled at the compliment. However, it wasn’t quite that simple. Despite gaining some confidence during her time with Aqours, Riko was still quite shy, especially around new people. And while she had definitely worked hard to strengthen her bonds with her friends, like Yoshiko, in truth it had been Chika who had made the initial connections for her.

But… how much of that did she want to admit to Yoshiko?

SakurauchiRiko: I hope so

TheFallenAngel: And in the meantime its not like you’ve lost any friends

TheFallenAngel: Sure we’re a little farther away now

TheFallenAngel: Heck Mari is all the way over in Italy

TheFallenAngel: But the mortals of this realm have devised wonderous tools that we can use to communicate over vast distances

Riko laughed. She was wondering when Yoshiko would drop something like that into the conversation.

SakurauchiRiko: That is true

SakurauchiRiko: The group chat has definitely helped

TheFallenAngel: But if that’s not enough you can always call

Riko blinked. Yoshiko had predicted her intended point of wanting to hear someone’s voice.

TheFallenAngel: Or even video chat

TheFallenAngel: I’m free now if you want to talk

SakurauchiRiko: Thank you for the offer, Yoshiko-chan, it means a lot

SakurauchiRiko: I may take you up on that tomorrow night when I can stay up later

SakurauchiRiko: Tonight I may just have to dig out an extra pillow to hug

TheFallenAngel: Or I could give you a hug

What? Riko reread the message to make sure she had done so correctly.

SakarauchiRiko: You can’t be serious

TheFallenAngel: I am

SakurauchiRiko: But you’re over a hundred kilometers away

SakurauchiRiko: Are you going to teleport or something?

TheFallenAngel: No

TheFallenAngel: Silly Riri

TheFallenAngel: Id take the train like a normal mortal

Riko resisted the urge to ask why Yoshiko didn’t mention flying.

SakurauchiRiko: Thank you again for the offer

SakurauchiRiko: But I’ll be heading back for You-chan’s birthday next weekened

SakurauchiRiko: So we can see each other in person then

TheFallenAngel: You sure?

Riko paused. Part of her suddenly wanted to accept Yoshiko’s offer. She hadn’t considered it until just now, but after two years around several physically affectionate friends, she realized she missed all the contact. She did actually want a hug. Especially one from a close friend.

TheFallenAngel: Riri?

SakurauchiRiko: I’m fine

This time the pause was on the other end.

TheFallenAngel: Alright

SakurauchiRiko: Have a good night, Yoshiko-chan

SakurauchiRiko: Thank you for helping me feel better

SakurauchiRiko: We’ll talk tomorrow night

TheFallenAngel: Yeah

TheFallenAngel: Have a good night Riri

----------

Riko sighed as she walked down the hall back to her dorm room after her bath. She still felt a little bad about lying to Yoshiko; she wasn’t as fine as she claimed to be. Certainly, she felt better than before their conversation. She appreciated her friend’s concern and looked forward to talking over the phone tomorrow night. But she still felt guilty.

A sigh from somewhere ahead of her caused her to look up.

Wait, is that…?

A blue-haired girl with an all-too familiar side-bun standing near Riko’s door slumped her shoulders and turned away.

“Yoshiko-chan?” Riko called.

“Riri!?” The girl spun. “You’re here!”

“Yes, I am.” Riko hastened her pace. “I live here. But what are you doing here?”

“I came to give you your hug.” Yoshiko spread her arms and smiled as the older girl reached her.

“You… what?”

“I came to give you your hug?” Yoshiko repeated, sounding less confident than before. She bounced a little on her toes and moved her arms to indicate that they were still open.

“You came all this way just to give me a hug?”

“Well, yeah, I said that I would…”

“And I said you didn’t have to…”

“I know I didn’t have to, but I couldn’t stop thinking about how much you seemed to really need one, and so I just…”

Oh gods, that expression… Riko’s heart twisted.

“Look, just,” Riko opened the door to her room and motioned for the other girl to enter “come in out of the hallway at least.”

Yoshiko ducked her head and slunk through the doorway like a dejected puppy and Riko immediately felt guilty for causing the reaction. She wasn’t quite sure why she was upset. She knew Yoshiko meant well. Her steadfast devotion to ensuring the wellbeing of her friends was one of Yoshiko’s most endearing traits, despite, or perhaps because of her strange ways of going about such things.

“I’m sorry, Riri.” Yoshiko turned and “Eh?”

Riko wrapped her arms around the shorter girl.

“No, I’m sorry, Yoshiko-chan.” Riko said, pulling the two of them closer together. “I didn’t mean to make you think I was mad at you or anything. Thank you for coming all this way just for me.”

“I… uhm… it…” Yoshiko fumbled, both with her words as well as with returning the embrace. “B-but of course… A… A fallen angel should always be willing to go to whatever lengths are necessary to do what is best for her little demons.”

Riko chuckled. Of course, Yoshiko would retreat to her fallen angel persona. But that didn’t diminish the meaningfulness of her actions.

And as for those actions, the hug was warm, soft and unbelievably comforting. It was glorious. Riko wouldn’t hesitate to describe it as heavenly. Angelic. Yoshiko could have sprouted wings on the spot and Riko would not have been the least bit surprised. Big fluffy white angel wings. Or maybe dark and intimidating demon wings. Or even beautiful black feathered angel wings.

Wait, why was she thinking about Yoshiko and wings?

Then it started to hit her. Everything she had been stuffing down for the last couple weeks as she did her best to keep up the appearance of a dutiful daughter and competent college student. All the emotions of leaving home, her parents, her friends, her dog.

She obviously had needed a hug far more than she had realized. She tightened her embrace.

“It’s alright.” Yoshiko murmured near her ear.

Riko realized her cheeks were already wet and that the other girl likely noticed moisture on her shoulder. When had she started crying?

“I’m here. Let it out.”

Riko sniffled. She opened her mouth to respond, but all that came out was a breathy sob. For her part, Yoshiko patted her back a couple times. Riko lost track of how long the two stood or how many tears she shed onto Yoshiko’s shoulder, but eventually she let out one last ragged sigh and started to pull away.

“Feel better?” Yoshiko offered a gentle smile.

“Mm…” Riko nodded as she dabbed away moister from her eyes with the sleeve of her sleep shirt. “Thank you again.”

“I’m glad I was able to help.”

“So, we were going to talk tomorrow over the phone, but since you’re already here…”

“Yeah, about that… uhm…” Yoshiko reached up and rubbed the back of her neck. “I should actually probably head back, since I kinda snuck out without saying anything, so…”

“Yoshiko-chan.” Riko shook her head.

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“It’s not me you should be apologizing to.”

“Yeah…”

“Anyway, you should probably call or message your parents that you won’t be back until tomorrow morning.”

“I won’t?”

“The last train out would have left not long after you arrived, if I remember the schedule correctly.”

“Wha…?” Yoshiko visibly paled.

“You didn’t look into that before you left?”

Despite asking, Riko realized she knew the answer before it was given, because of course Yoshiko didn’t check. Of course, she would just race off to the aid of a friend without a second thought for herself and what to do afterward. Riko had long since stopped being surprised by Yoshiko’s selflessness and instead began worrying the purported fallen angel would hurt herself in her haste to be helpful.

“No, I just…” The younger girl was clearly panicking now. “I just knew I needed to get here and… Geez, I don’t know… I need to find a place to stay. Where is the nearest hotel?”

“What do you mean hotel? You can just stay here, obviously.”

“Are you sure?”

At this, Riko couldn’t help laughing a little. “You just traveled over a hundred kilometers to give me a hug. The absolute least I can do is set out my guest futon for you to use.”

Despite her amusement, Riko found herself a little confused by Yoshiko’s reaction to her offer. It was by no means the first time she had stayed overnight at Riko’s place, usually after a visit with Prelude ended up lasting a bit too long. Granted this was the first time she would be staying in Riko’s dorm room, but that shouldn’t make that much of a difference, right?

“Alright.” Yoshiko agreed after a moment.

“And if you want, while I get things set up here, you can take my tote down the hall for a shower.”

“Sure, that would be nice. But, uhm… where is the bathroom here?” Yoshiko asked, reaching for the container of supplies.

“It’s at the junction of the wings. You can’t miss it.” Riko assured. “Oh, and let’s get you something to change into.” She pulled open a drawer of her dresser and grabbed the first sleepshirt she found. “Here, this should fit you well enough.”

“Thanks, Riri!” Yoshiko’s mood suddenly swung back to the positive side of the pendulum as she accepted the garment.

“I should be thanking you.” Riko replied.

“You already did.” Yoshiko reminded. “A couple times, in fact.”

“I know, but it really does mean a lot to me.”

“Happy to help.” Yoshiko grinned. “Anyway, back in a bit.”

Riko nodded as the younger girl slipped out the door. She then made her way to her closet to retrieve her guest futon.

Tonight had taken quite the unexpected turn but Riko wasn’t complaining in the slightest. It was one thing for her friends and family to express their support through messages or over the phone, and Riko was appreciative of it all, but it was quite another thing to make a grand gesture the likes of which Yoshiko had just made.

Riko felt like she almost had her own guardian angel. A fallen guardian angel who often awkwardly forgot to think things through thoroughly, but still… The emotional boost she had just received from her friend would undoubtedly carry her through the next couple weeks, if not the rest of the month.

As she settled on her bed with a doujin, Riko found herself looking forward to catching up with Yoshiko for a little while before they turned in for the night. She also pondered how she could pay back the other girl. Perhaps she could make breakfast in the morning before Yoshiko headed out? Yoshiko would be late for school back in Numazu no matter what, so a slight delay for a meal wouldn’t make much of a difference, right? She made a mental note to make such plans once Yoshiko returned, then found where she had left off in the story and started reading.

----------

Author’s Note Continued in Followup Post

[angstysebfan]

My Roommate’s Boyfriend 6/?

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: Your roommate’s boyfriend and you do not get along. You don’t even know why anymore. When your roommate has to move unexpectedly across the country, you both begrudgingly drive her car to her new home. Adventure, angst, and secrets come alive.

Warnings: light swearing

You lay naked under the sheet, your head on Bucky’s chest, his right arm wrapped around you drawing shapes on your back with his fingertips, and his left hand playing with your right hand. He kisses the top of your head softly as you sigh in content. You have never felt so happy in your life. You were sure that you more than liked Bucky at this point, but you still didn’t want to do anything more until you spoke with Nat.

“That was amazing,” you say softly with a smile on your face. You hear and feel Bucky’s chuckle. “Yeah, it was. Best I have ever had.” He says kissing your temple softly. You laugh, “I highly doubt that.” you say. Bucky lets go of your hand and lift your face by your chin so he can look into your eyes. “Really baby. I mean it.” he says before kissing you again on the forehead, nose, and then lips. 

You run your hand through his hair, staring into his beautiful eyes. Suddenly yours start feeling very heavy. Before you knew it, you fall into a deep sleep in Bucky’s arms. 

You are awoken by the alarm on his phone. Bucky groans as he reaches on the night stand and turns it off. He then wraps his arms around you and nuzzles his nose into your hair placing soft kisses on your head. You blink several times, trying to get your eyes to stay open. You yawn, “We should get going if we want to spend some time with Nat today.” you say. Suddenly you sit up in a panic.

“Oh my god, what are we going to tell Nat?” you shout in worry. Bucky sits up and rubs your naked back. “We will talk to her. I’m sure she will understand, I mean the two of us are practically broken up.” he says, kissing your shoulder. You shake your head, “I can’t believe I slept with my roommates boyfriend.” you say putting your face in your hands.

“Ex-roommate and her practically ex-boyfriend.” Bucky says, grabbing your face to look at him. “Please don’t over think this. We could always not tell her, and just wait until down the line when we are actually together.” he says. You can’t help but smile, “You plan on dating me when we get back to New York?” you ask. He laughs and gives you a peck. “Definitely! Though we should probably go a little slower than last night.” he says with a laugh, kissing your lips.

You both get up and go in search of clothes. You grab your phone to text Nat, to inform her that you will be in Seattle in a few short hours, but your phone won’t turn on. “Damn! My phone is dead. I wanted to text Nat to let her know we will be in Seattle soon.”

Bucky threw his phone over to you. “Go ahead, I’m going to use the bathroom and change.” he said as he walks into the bathroom and closes the door. You look down at his phone and realize he has a text message open to Sam. You want to quickly close it to open a new text, but his text and Sams response catches your eye:

Bucky: You were right, I owe you $50.

Sam: Man I knew it! How far did you get?

Tears rush to your eyes. He made a bet on getting with you?! What the fuck kind of bullshit is that? Everything he said was a lie! Why? Was it to get back at you for the things you said about him a year ago! You want to walk into that bathroom and punch him in the face, but decide to just finish the trip, go home, and never see him again!

You quickly sent Nat the text telling her you will both see her in a few hours and that your phone is dead, but you will charge it in the car. As you place Bucky’s phone on the nightstand, he comes out of the bathroom, giving you a warm smile. You look down at your hands for a moment, before walking back over to your side of the bed to finish packing your stuff. 

“We should get going.” you say sternly. Bucky furrows his brow at you, “You okay?” he asks. You look at him, with no emotion on your face. “I’m fine, can we just go please?” you say, putting your duffle bag on your shoulder. You walk out of the room and head for the elevator, with Bucky’s hand on your lower back. You shrug away from him as you get into the elevator. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks concerned. You ignore him, keeping your eyes on the doors of the elevator. Bucky starts to panic internally. Were you regretting last night? Did you blame him for what happened? Is this just your guilt? He decides to leave you alone for awhile to sort out your feelings, but he can’t help but be hurt with the way you are treating him.

--

You are an hour outside of Seattle, and you haven’t said two words to Bucky since the hotel. Once your phone was charged, you started looking up flights back home. Originally you were going to stay in Seattle a few days, but right now, you don’t want to be anywhere near Bucky Barnes. 

The earliest flight is 1 am this evening, which you quickly purchase. You know Nat will be disappointed, but you will just plan a solo trip out to see her another time. You feel Bucky glancing at you every few minutes, but you refuse to look at him. You just keep your eyes on your phone, or look out the window.

Bucky continues to have an internal war with himself. Should he confront you about the way you are acting? Did you hate him for lying about the hotel room? Wait, you didn’t even know he lied about the hotel room. He really didn’t plan on sleeping with you, he just wanted to stay near you. But he definitely does not regret it, in fact he felt pretty good about it. He hates that you are acting this way now. It now makes him feel guilty and bad. 

When he can’t take the silence anymore, Bucky clears his throat, “Are you sure you are alright? You’ve been acting weird since the hotel.” he says carefully. You don’t say anything, don’t even look at him. Bucky’s heart starts to race, and panic sets in. You are definitely mad at him.

“Okay, did I do something to upset you? If this is about last night, I’m sorry. We can tell Nat, and I will take the full blame.” He says. You scoff, but still say nothing. Bucky starts getting irritated and pulls over to the side of the road. When he puts the car in park he turns his body to look at you.

“Y/N, please tell me what is wrong!” he begs. You have your arms crossed over your chest and you keep staring in front of you. “I don’t understand what happened. We were great this morning! We had an unbelievable night that I never want to forget, and now you are freezing me out. Are you regretting last night?” he says, panic and frustration evident in his voice. 

Still you say nothing, but look down. Do you tell him what you saw on his phone? Should you give him a chance to explain? No! Why hear another excuse! You look at him for a moment then look back in front of you. “Please just get us to Seattle.” you say, emotionless.

Bucky continues to look at you with pleading eyes. He reaches for your hand, but you flinch away. His heart breaks. “You regret last night. I get it... I... I thought we were on the same page after our talk this morning, but I guess... I guess I was wrong.” he says sadly. Your heart breaks slightly at the sound of his voice, but you stand firm.

Bucky turns back forward and pulls back onto the highway. You hide the tear that falls from your face, but when you glance at Bucky again and see a tear fall down his. You want to reach up and wipe it away and kiss him, but all you keep thinking about is that damn text message. This is all part of his damn plan! You know once you get back to New York, he would probably ditch you anyway.

Bucky decides to just give up on trying to talk to you. You obviously hate him and blame him for something you both did. He feels miserable. This hurts worse than breaking up with Nat, which says a whole lot on that relationship. He shakes his thoughts out of his head. Once they get to Seattle, he will have a few days to corner you and get you to talk about this. You have to tell him how you feels, you have to.

--

Bucky pulls up in front of Natasha’s apartment building. Natasha is there waiting, since you texted her telling her you guys entered the city. You can’t help the huge smile on your face as you get out of the car. You run up to Nat and you both embrace!

“I know it’s only been a week, but I’ve missed you!” you say into her shoulder. She laughs, “I’ve missed you too!” she says. She releases you and runs toward Bucky, jumping in his arms. She wraps her legs around his waist as they hug. Bucky keeps his eyes on you, and you can’t help but notice the sadness in them. When they release, she grabs both your hands and leads you up into her apartment.

“With my new job, I can afford a place on my own! I mean it’s nice to have my own space, but I miss having someone to hang out with all the time,” she says with a light laugh. You smile at her as you look around the small one bedroom apartment. You walk into the living room and put your duffle bag down, and sit on the couch.

“Y/N the couch is comfortable, so you should have no problem sleeping there, and Bucky you can stay with me in my room.” she says looking between the two of you. You and Bucky meet each others gazes for moment before you look back at Nat with a smile.

“I have the whole few days planned for us! You are both in for a treat! Tonight we will go to a great restaurant downtown, and then this club for drinks and dancing. Tomorrow I found this cute brunch place we can try, and then--” “Oh, uh, actually Nat, I am going to head home tonight.” you say softly. 

Nat looks from you to Bucky, who is staring at you in disbelief. You’re leaving tonight?! “Why? I thought you were going to spend a few days.” Nat says concerned. You look at her and can’t help the tears that are coming to your eyes. “I-I know, but I got an email from work that they need me to come back sooner, and I will just have to plan another trip out here to party with you.” You say.

“Bullshit!” Bucky says. You and Nat both snap your heads to him. “That is complete and utter bullshit and you know it!” He says angrily. Nat stands up and puts her hands on her hips. “What is going on?” she says to both of you. You keep your head down, staring at your hands. You hear Bucky sigh.

“Look Nat, Y/N and I slept together last night. She regrets it now and is back to hating my guts, why, I don’t know because we were fine this morning. But I think that is why she is leaving tonight.” he says. You glare up at him, before you look at Nat. She looks surprised, but you are shocked to not see betrayal in her facial expression.

“I’ll let you guys talk. I am going to head down the street to the liquor store.” Bucky says before leaving the apartment. You look back down at your hands, not wanting to look Nat in the eye. Yes, you felt guilty about what happened with Bucky, but that is just the tip of the iceberg.

Nat sits back down on the couch and looks at you. “Y/N?” she says quietly. You feel the tears sliding down your face. “I-I’m sorry Nat. I am so sorry I slept with Bucky. I know you guys are technically still together, but I let it happen anyway. And I guess the joke was on me because....” you can’t continue through your tears.

Nat slides closer to you and hugs you for a moment. You can’t help but sob into her shoulder. She rubs your back for a moment, which makes your feel worse. Why is she comforting you? You pull back and look at her. “Nat, I slept with your boyfriend, you should be angry at me, not comforting me!” you say. Nat smiles softly at you and again wipes some of your tears.

“Y/N, why do you think I had you both come out here together?” she asks. You sniff and shrug your shoulders. “Because you were tired of our fighting? I don’t know.” you say. She nods, “Yes, I have been tired of your fighting for a long time, but it was because I wanted you both to realize your underlying attraction to each other.” she says. You look at her like she has 5 heads.

“Listen, if I was still home, I’m sure Bucky and I would have stayed together for a while longer, but he is not my forever. I know that and he knows that. I enjoyed my relationship, and I will miss him and his amazing body, but I’m not it for him.” She says. “So because you know he isn’t it, you wanted to give him to me?” you ask confused.

She laughs, “Not exactly. After you told me about how you were attracted to him that first night at the bar, I knew that you still had feelings for him. I mean he was an asshole to you, but I saw it in your face, and I saw it in his too. When he wasn’t looking at me... he was looking at you.” You shake your head, not wanting to believe it. She sighs, “He told me about what Sam told him at the baraboit you, which of course I knew, but that’s when I realized it. He was meant to get with you that night.” 

You laugh, “Nat, seriously? You throwing fate into this? You know that is bullshit.” She shakes her head. “Is it?” You shake your head again. You were so confused, but glad Nat isn’t mad at you. She looks at you with concern, “So why are you really leaving early, because Bucky is right. Your excuse is complete and utter bullshit. Is it because you regret sleeping with him?” she asks.

You shake your head. “No, it’s not that. Th-this morning when I realized my phone was dead, he let me use his to text you. When I looked down I saw him and Sam exchange texts. He told Sam he owed him 50 bucks and Sam wanted to know how far he got.” you say, tears falling from your face again. “He played me! He doesn’t have feelings for me! He made a stupid bet that I would get with him!” you say.

Nat says nothing but holds you while you cry. She kept whispering it’s okay over and over. You pull back and wipe your eyes. You are so tired of crying because of Bucky Barnes. You just want to go back to New York and never see him again.

--

Bucky is walking back to the apartment with a small bottle of whiskey in his hands. He occasionally takes a drink from it, the burn feeling good as it goes down his throat. He hopes to God that your talk with Nat went well and that she will talk you into staying. How is he going to talk to you about both your feelings if you are not here? Just then his phone buzzes. He looks and sees it’s a text from Nat:

We need to talk.

--

Previous Chapter  /  Next Chapter

There is the angst I promised you, and there is still more to be had. What were Sam and Bucky talking about? Hope you are all enjoying it and like this chapter. I might take a little long finishing this because there is some stuff going on in my personal life that may take me away, but I will try and write as often as I can. As usual, feedback is appreciated!

Taglist: @iheartsebastianstan​, @jessyballet​, @finleyjayne​, @cap-just-said-language​, @sarcastic-and-cool​, @humbledarkness​, @broco8​, @ohjammers​

[outrebanx]

Dragonfly - Chapter 2

JJ x female!reader fic

Summary: Your first day working at the wreck is cut short when there’s a hurricane, causing issues later on.

Word count: 2.3k (slightly longer than I planned whoops)

Warnings: swearing, absolutely awful writing

Catch up: Chapter 1

A/N: Rip to actually writing well, but I was stuck on how to do this chapter for a while because I want to get to the others which I’ve kinda planned - still not sure how many chapters this will be tho as I need to decide on how I want to end it. Feedback is appreciated like normal :)

When you woke up that morning, all your muscles ached, hours of surfing generally did that to you, but you were always happy to pay the price as it was always worth it. You stayed in bed, completely zoned out for a while before you realised you should probably get up and have a shower so you were presentable for your first shift at the Wreck, hopefully giving a good first impression.

After getting in the shower, you got dressed into some jeans and a plain black top, put on some mascara and made your way to the kitchen to have a coffee before you got going.

Your dad was at the table eating some toast when you walked in, you said a quick hello before heading over to the kettle, putting it on, and searching for a travel mug.

You had found one just as your dad spoke up from the table, “you have work today right?”

“Yeh but only a short shift, why?”

“Oh on the radio this morning it said there’s gonna be a hurricane tonight, and I want you home, not only so you’re safe but so you can help me keep this place together.”

You smiled at him, “Don’t worry, I’ll be home before then and honestly I’m not sure that even with both of us this house will survive it, but I guess we’ll have to see.”

“Yes, I guess we will.” He laughed, he got up from the table, giving you a quick wave as he headed to whatever room he was trying to fix today.

After making your coffee, you grabbed your keys and headed out to your car, your car was a second hand jeep (possibly older, you had no idea) and so wasn’t always the most reliable, but it held a special place in your heart, and until it caught on fire or died completely you refused to get rid of it - no matter how much your dad asked you to.

The drive to the Wreck wasn’t awful, the road you were on showed some nice views of the island, although, the wind was beginning to pick up ahead of the hurricane that according to your dad was a common thing around here - something else you didn’t like about living on this side of the country. But you were going to try and make it work here and look on the bright side as even if you didn’t like it, this was now your home.

You got to the Wreck and were greeted by the owner Mr Carrera, who gave you a name tag and was about to show you around when he got a call, leaving you standing there looking like you were lost. The girl who you saw yesterday, Kiara you think her name is, came over to you to see if you were alright, and once you’d explained that her dad got a call, she decided to show you around instead.

“Okay,” she glanced at your name tag, “Y/N, obviously this isn’t the largest restaurant ever but we get quite a lot of people in here, especially at weekends and whenever there are loads of tourons around.”

“I’m guessing tourons are tourists?” You asked.

“Yes they are, sorry I keep forgetting you’re new around here, you’ll soon find there are names for everything around here - but if you’re ever confused you can always come and ask me.”

This girl was really nice, and pretty, and you kind of wanted to be friends with her, but before you could ask her anything, the first few customers came into the restaurant and she headed over to them, turning back to you with a smile.

Whilst she was busy with that group, a group of boys, who looked to be around your age, came in so you took it upon yourself to serve them, although the looks they gave you put you a little on edge. After giving them a few minutes to decide on what they want to eat, you approached them again, they all looked at you as you began speaking.

“Do you want any drinks?”

“No, but you could give us your name.” One of them said, he was probably the leader of this group, attractive yes, but anyone who doesn’t have good manners automatically is ruined for you.

“It’s Y/N,” you say pointing at your name tag, trying to be nice.

“Well, Y/N, we haven’t seen you before, and I have to admit you’re pretty hot for someone who I assume is a pogue, but that doesn’t mean much”

His other friends laughed at this comment, you didn’t even know what a pogue was so you were unsure of how to react, but the way he said it made it sound like an insult, so you just ignored him.

“Well if you don’t want any drinks, what food can I get for you guys?”

“Just leave us alone to decide” you nodded and just as you began to walk away you heard him mutter under his breath, “pogue bitch.”

What the fuck, you thought, who raises their children to speak like that to others? It had been a while since you’d been involved in customer service and you’d forgotten how shitty people can be. Ignoring the anger you felt, you headed over to Kiara, who had been looking over at you trying to serve them.

“Hey Kiara, what’s a pogue?” You asked.

“Call me Kie, and it’s the name for people who live in the Cut, the guys who you were just talking to are Kooks, they live in Figure 8 which is the ‘rich side’ of the island which means they kind of just look down on anyone who doesn’t have as much money as them.”

“Wow, a proper class divide, how fun.”

She laughed, “Yeah its not great, but some aren’t as bad as them, the main guy there is Rafe Cameron, his family is one of the richest on the island, they pretty much only come here when they really need to get away from their families or if they want to start a fight.”

“Okay, does that mean they’re not here often?”

“More or less, like I said earlier, it’s mainly tourons and pogues who come here.”

You nodded, and then you both headed back to serve people again.

The rest of your shift went by quite quickly, and all without any problems, and soon Mr Carrera said you could go home, he was closing up early anyway because of the hurricane.

Just as you were leaving, Kie caught up with you, stopping you from getting into your car.

“Are you doing anything tomorrow?” She asked

“I don’t think so, why?”

“Usually days after a hurricane me and my friends go out fishing and I think you’d like them, and them you - you don’t have to obviously, I just thought I’d offer.”

“No, I’d love too, thanks.” You smiled at her

“Okay you can meet me here, at like 11?”

“Sounds good.”

You quickly exchanged numbers so you could contact each other if there were any issues, and then you got into your car, beginning the drive home, happy that you were starting to make friends.

It was evening now, and the weather had definitely taken a turn for worse, you weren’t used to weather like this and it made you a little nervous.

Just as you were thinking this, your car made some sputtering noises and slowed to a stop.

“Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

You tried turning the key a few times but it still wouldn’t start - you were too far away to walk home, not that you wanted to leave your car behind anyway in case something happened to it, which left one option. This option was to find someone who might be able to fix it so you could get home.

You picked up your phone, ready to call your dad and tell him what had happened but apparently the weather had already knocked out cell service, so you couldn’t contact anyone, not even a tow.

“Unbelievable.” You muttered, getting out the car and deciding to go to a house nearby instead and ask for their help.

It was only a short walk until you came across a small road going towards a house, you took a breath and made your way towards it, hoping whoever lived here would help you.

The house seemed quiet but there was a beat up VW van outside so you assumed there was someone home, you stepped over some empty beer cans and knocked on the door.

It had been about a minute and just as you began moving, about to head back and try and find another house, you heard the door open behind you.

You turned around only to be met with the attractive face of one of the boys you had met last night, John B if you remembered correctly.

“Y/N right?” You nodded, “um do you need help with something?”

“Yeh my car just broke down and apparently your house is the closest, would you be able to help me?”

“Sure, just let me grab JJ quickly, then you can take us to your car.”

As he walked back into the house, you muttered to yourself, “Oh great, he’s here too.”

You had stood there waiting for a little bit when John B reemerged, JJ next to him, an annoying smirk on his face.

“Hi again.” He said

“Hi - follow me I guess.”

As you began walking back up the dirt path, you heard JJ catch up with you, looking towards him, you saw he was looking at you, an unreadable expression on his face.

“What?” You say, beginning to get uncomfortable under his stare and the silence.

“Nothing - just wondering why you can’t fix your car yourself.”

“Not everyone knows how to fix cars and my dad did once try to teach me but my excuse for getting out of it was because if I ever broke down I’d be able to call him or at least someone for help. But you know the first time it happens is when there’s a fucking hurricane so I have no cell service - and now my dad will never let me live this down so that’s great.”

You heard John B chuckle from behind you, and just as JJ was about to say something in return, your jeep was in sight, and with the wind starting to feel stronger, you picked up the pace.

JJ let out a whistle beside you, you looked at him saying, “that better be an appreciative whistle, my jeep may be old but it is a thing of beauty.”

He held his hands up in defence, “oh absolutely, I would never insult it, but I am a little shocked its never broken down before.”

“I’m going to ignore that.” You gave him a small smile, which he quickly returned before turning back to lift up the cars bonnet.

“I obviously don’t know much about cars but I think the battery could be dead?” You say to the boys, John b looked to you and nodded,

“If that’s the case we’ll just have to jumpstart it, I’ll be right back.” He turned and ran off back towards his house, leaving you and JJ in silence.

You were tapping the side of your car to fill the silence when JJ started talking again, “do you live here with your dad then?”

“Yeh, my mum died recently and he wanted a change of scenery, so it’s just us.”

“Oh I’m sorry.”

You looked up at him, “Thanks, but it’s alright, life doesn’t always go the way you want it to, and hey, I think I’m actually starting to like this place so it’s not all bad.”

“Oh yeah, when there’s not a hurricane involved, this place has its good moments.”

You laughed, and before you could say anything else, John B appeared on the road in his beat up van, jumping out when he got near with some jumper cables.

“This is safe right?” You asked

“Absolutely.” For some reason that answer didn’t comfort you, or it might’ve just been the way the two boys looked at each other before attaching the cables and going to the van.

Once the boys gave you a thumbs up, you turned your key in the ignition again, this time the car actually starting this time, you could hear the boys cheer from where they were standing.

As it was getting later and the wind was getting stronger, you quickly ran over the boys to say your thanks and hugged them, surprising both them and you. Ignoring your out of character show of thanks, you got in your car, waving at them again as you passed and drove home.

The rain had started by the time you got home, and as soon as you pulled into your drive, your dad was out the door, asking where you had been.

“I broke down, but some guys I met the other day helped me, and I still got home so there's no need to worry.”

He kissed your forehead, “Okay lets just get inside, I’ve made some pasta if you want any.”

“Like I would ever turn down pasta,” you laughed, heading to the kitchen, “how was your day?”

“Alright, but right now I’m more interested in the guys who helped you, are they your age?”

“Yeh I think so.”

“Do you think they’re good looking?”

“Ugh dad, I barely know them, and I’m not going to have this conversation with you.”

He just laughed, “that means they are then.”

“Omg, I’m taking my pasta and escaping before this conversation gets worse.”

Your dad was still laughing when you left the kitchen to head to your room, but you had to admit you wouldn’t mind getting to know those guys a little more, especially JJ, but that could be done another day, right now you just wanted to try and sleep through the hurricane and see Kie tomorrow.

Tag list: @jellyfishbeansontoast​ @tangledinsparkles​ @k-k0129​ @sofiluvschu​ @outerbankslove​ @obx-beach​

[full-of-roman-angst-trash]

Blind and Naive

(You are here) (Part 2) (Part 3)

TW: Unsympathetic Virgil, Abusive Virgil, Unsympathetic Patton, Unsympathetic Logan? (Not really), Abused Roman, Toxic Prinxiety, Abusive Relationship, Verbal Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Fighting, Dismissal of Feelings, Cursing, Manipulation, Belittling, Gaslighting, Guilt-tripping, Body Shaming, Self-Harm, Self-Doubt, Anorexia, Self-Deprecation, Negative Body Image, Roman lashes out at Janus, and A LOT of Roman angst

If I missed any, please tell me and I will add it.

Word count: 3970

____

“Will you be my boyfriend?”

The question rings in my ears and I feel my brain desperately trying to think of an answer.

I know I don’t like Virgil, at least not in a romantic sense. But at the same time, I know that if we start dating, most of the fandom will be ecstatic. We are one of the most popular ships in the fandom after all.

Come on Roman, give the fans what they want. How do you expect to be the favorite if you can’t satisfy them or please them because of a selfish reason? And either way, what can go wrong? Maybe you might even fall for Virgil eventually.

I take a deep breath and nod, putting on an excited smile, “Yes!”

____

It had all started okay. We had announced our relationship to the fandom and most of them were happy! Of course, there were the few that didn’t like our relationship and those who were indifferent but that was fine. I even started to grow feelings for Virgil!

Everything was fine…

But then… Something… 

Changed...

____

“Roman! You promised we were going to have a movie night today!”

I look down, the guilt in my chest growing more and more with every second that passes.

“I know... But I really need to finish this script… I’m so sorry Virgil… I promise I will make it up to you...!” My voice is hushed and weak

Suddenly, he starts to cry and I feel my heart sink.

“YOU PROMISED ROMAN! YOU CARE MORE ABOUT A DUMB SCRIPT THAN ABOUT YOUR BOYFRIEND!?” His voice is shaky and filled with hurt.

“No, no, no! T-that’s not it! I promise! I-I j-just-”

He cuts me off with a sharp slap that makes my cheek sting and ache. 

“IF YOU’RE NOT GOING TO HANG OUT WITH ME AND TREAT ME RIGHT THEN MAYBE WE SHOULD BREAK UP!” He starts crying harder before looking away from me.

I feel tears begin to prick my eyes and my body begin to shake.

“I-I’m s-sorry! P-please d-don’t leave me!”

Please...! I don’t want the fandom to hate me even more...! I don’t want dad to get mad at me...! I don’t want to be alone again...! I d-don’t want to lose you...!

Despite my best efforts, I feel the tears in my eyes begin to spill and roll down my face. 

“We can have movie night! I-I can just do my work another day!” I cringe when I hear the heavy desperation in my voice.

I hear Virgil sigh before he turns to face me. He suddenly isn’t crying anymore and instead he just has an annoyed expression on his face.

“Fine,” His voice is so cold it forces a shiver to run down my spine, “I won’t break up with you. Now shut up and stop crying. You look so fucking pathetic.”

Pathetic...

I go to reply but before I can, I hear Virgil mumble, “So much for being a prince...”

A true prince isn’t a whiny crybaby! Stop being such a little bitch! You were in the wrong, so why are YOU crying!? He had every right to be mad at you!

I quickly wipe my tears away and force myself to calm down, “Sorry...”

He gives me a tight smile, “It’s fine. Now, put the movie on, and let’s cuddle on the couch.”

I smile a little and nod. He sits down on the couch as I put the movie on. Once the movie is on, I sit next to him on the couch and rest my head on his shoulder. He wraps an arm around me and pulls me close, and I can’t help but smile more. 

See, if you’re good, he’ll be nice to you! All you have to do is follow his rules and stay on his good side. How hard can that be...?

____

Virgil looks up at me, a disgusted expression on his face. 

“Are you seriously going to eat all that?” His voice comes out harsh and judgmental.

Disgusting pig...

I look down at my plate and hold back a wince. Now that I was actually paying attention to it, the amount of food on my plate made my stomach turn. 

Are you blind!? Why did you get so much food!? Aren’t you already fat enough!? If you want to be perfect stop being such a pig! How can anyone ever love someone as fat and disgusting as you!? STOP EATING! Fill up on water or something! Count your calories more! YOU HAVE TO BE PERFECT!

I swallow the lump in my throat and look back up at Virgil, “N-no... I accidentally got too much food... Of course, I wasn’t planning on eating all this...”

Virgil’s expression quickly changes from disgust to anger. He slams his hands on the table as he stands up, the sudden loud noise and movements make me flinch.

“BULLSHIT! DON’T LIE TO ME! WHAT TYPE OF BOYFRIEND ARE YOU!? FIRST YOU’RE GREEDY AND THEN YOU HAVE THE AUDACITY TO LIE ABOUT IT!?”

Greedy...

I cover my face with my hands to try and hide the fear in my face, “N-no! I-I swear...! I-I didn’t mean to g-get so much f-food!”

A scoff escapes his lips, “Fine... If you’re not going to tell me the truth then have it your way.”

He stands up and starts walking back to his room.

I reach out to him, “W-wait...” My voice is weak and shaky.

Useless...

He stops but doesn’t bother to glance at me or anything, “You’re sleeping in the basement today. And don’t you dare show yourself until you’ve lost some weight.”

And with that, he leaves.

My shaky knees give out, I fall to the floor, gripping my hair tightly and biting my lip as I try to stop myself from crying.

Don’t you dare cry! Stop being so sensitive! If you weren’t such a fuck up, he wouldn’t have gotten mad at you! Stop being so stupid and do something right for once! You let him down! You should have known better! Go to the basement and start planning your meals...

I slowly stand up and grab my plate, the site of it almost making me puke. I quickly throw away the food in the trash and put the plate in the sink. Then I make my way to the basement.

____

“Roman, stop being so dramatic.”

I flinch a little and keep my eyes glued to the floor. I couldn’t help but fidget with my hands desperately and ineffectively trying to stop my tears.

Dramatic... 

“I-I’m sorry...- I-I just...- Y-you said...-” I trip over my words, the ever-growing lump in my throat not helping to make the situation easier.

He scoffs, “Stop lying, I didn’t even say anything about you.”

I bite my tongue, “B-but you d-did... Y-You said-”

The second I realize what I said I cut myself off. 

Nononononono!!! Y-you idiot! He’s going to get mad at you!

Before I can apologize he walks up to me and pinches my arm, making me grimace.

“ARE YOU CALLING ME A LIAR!? I DIDN’T CALL YOU ANNOYING! IF ANYONE IS A LIAR, IT’S YOU!”

Liar...

I feel myself start to hyperventilate as I wrap my arms around my stomach tightly, “Y-you’re right... I-I’m sorry... Y-you would n-never say that...”

“Whatever,” Virgil steps away from me, “Have you eaten?”

I hug my stomach tighter at the mention of eating and shake my head, unable to force myself to speak.

He walks back over to me and puts a hand on my chin. He lifts my head and has me look at him, a smile on his face.

“Good, I’m glad you’re following the rules. As a reward, we can go cuddle in my room.”

A bright smile creeps into my face. I nod excitedly and we sink down to his room. At first, it was going great, but then, Virgil’s room began to affect me. I was getting more and more anxious but I ignored it.

Don’t ruin this nice moment! You’re always begging for attention, and you finally got it. DON’T MESS IT UP! You’re lucky he even agreed to cuddle after you accused him of lying. 

I stay quiet and just cuddle closer to Virgil, when he holds me closer I almost completely forget about my growing anxiety. 

____

At first, our arguments and insults stayed out of the videos. But soon, they began to leak through

“So do I, but I’m not like THAT.” 

Sorry... I just really like Disney...

“And as usual, you were completely unnecessary.”

Unnecessary....

“Prince, I got to say you do impress me, by being a clueless moron all the time.”

Clueless moron...

“Even Prince knew that.”

I get it... I’m the dumbest...

“Don’t encourage him.”

I’m just trying to do my job... I just want to be listened to...

“If it’s not original, haven’t we all lost?”

I’m trying! It’s harder than you think!

“You tried, you failed.”

Failed... I’m a failure...

“Princey, you are done, give it up!”

NO! I can’t give up! I can’t let him down!

“Princey, you could never let me down,” Thomas said in a sincere voice but I couldn’t help and be skeptical.

“No?” Said Virgil in a surprised and doubtful voice.

He doesn’t believe in me....

“They’re also determined and chivalrous.” Explained Thomas.

“And this is the one Roman thinks he’s in?” Asked Virgil in a fake whisper.

I guess he doesn’t think I’m determined or chivalrous... Am I that delusional to think I am...?

“I’m not evil!” I desperately called out.

“Says who?” Virgil quickly shot back.

E-evil... I can’t be evil... I’m supposed to be good...

“I so liked the original idea that I misinterpreted.”

Is my idea not good enough...?

“I tried to course-correct, but you wouldn’t let me.”

I just wanted a bit of control for once...

“Whatever, you know you screwed it up.”

Like I always do...

“All I’m saying is that you both suck at what you do and I’m tired of having to keep lighting fires under your butt”

I suck at my job... But at least I have Virgil to fix my mistakes...

“Wow, you are, unbelievably extra any chance you get.”

Extra... Always too extra...

“You know Roman, it’s too bad your brain isn’t as big as that chin.��

I’m not dumb... I-I’m not...

“It’s a puppet bit, just ignore them.”

Ignore me like always, right...?

“Too bad your “big admission” is dwarfed by your gargantuan failures.”

All I ever do is fail...

“Okay, you can stop.”

I’m just being myself....

“Shut up!”

Sorry...

“Princey, Princey, Princey, so naive.”

Naive...?

“Are you seriously siding with Deceit?”

I’m just trying to give him a chance...

“What are you- the jury decides if he’s guilty!”

So he only cares to correct me...?

____

I can’t take it anymore...! I-it hurt so much...!

I stand in front of my mirror, a feeling of hurt and loneliness corrupting my heart. My eyes are bloodshot red and tears flowed down my face at an alarming rate. My whole body was shaking and my breathes were shaky. 

Ugly! Stupid! Your shoulders aren’t broad enough! Your thighs are too wide! Your stomach is too big! Your neck is too fat! Your arms too heavy! You aren’t perfect enough! You’re still eating too much! Why are you still not good enough?! 

I curl my hands into a fist, my shaking becoming increasingly worse with every passing second. Suddenly, I’m no longer able to look at my own reflection.

Before I knew it, a loud crash filled my ears and I felt my knuckles sting. I looked at the mirror. It was now cracked and bloody. I look down at my knuckles, they were full of blood. 

But to my surprise, the pain felt... 

Good...

It hurts... My knuckles sting and ache... but... I like it... It feels nice... 

____

Eventually, I just gave up.

“Roman! You messed everything up again!”

“Sorry.”

I stopped fighting.

“Stop being dramatic. We all know that you’re just trying to get attention.”

“You’re right. Sorry,” I plastered a smile on my face.

I followed everything he said.

“Can’t you just come up with something good for once!? Stop wasting our time with your useless shitty ideas!”

I nod, “I’ll try harder, I promise.”

I just agreed.

“You’re still not skinny enough. Are you even trying!?”

“I am trying, I’m sorry, I’ll do more.”

I stayed silent and out of the way. I continued to skip meals. I kept self harming. Every day, things got worse and worse. But, at least, I still have Virgil.

____

They told me that if anything is bothering me to reach out. I slowly walk to the couch where Logan and Patton were sitting. I stand a few feet in front of them but neither of them acknowledged me.

I take a deep breath and clear my throat, finally getting their attention.

“Salutations Roman,” Logan said, looking up from his book, “Is there something that you require us for?”

I awkwardly avoid eye contact and mumble, “I, Um... Need to get some things off my chest...”

Logan raises a brow and fully sets his looks down, “Okay?”

While Logan seems to be somewhat interested, Patton just rolls his eyes.

“Fine, but hurry up, I was watching a movie,” Patton’s voice is harsh, making me flinch.

I see Logan give Patton a disappointed and displeased face, but Patton just ignores him.

I take another deep breath.

Just say it... It’s okay... T-they’ll believe me... R-right...?

After a few more seconds of debating with myself, I quietly mutter out, “V-Virgil, h-has b-been v-verbally a-abusing m-me...”

There’s a beat of silence. No longer than a couple of seconds. But, it feels like forever.

“Really Roman?” Patton’s voice cuts through the silence like a sharp knife, his tone annoyed and disappointed.

I put my head down and squeezes my eyes shut, “Y-yes...”

Patton’s sighs heavily and responds in a flat, unamused tone, “Roman, I’m disappointed in you. First, you’re mean to Virgil and now you’re lying about him abusing you!? Aren’t you supposed to be a prince? What type of prince lies about their significant other? Especially after he was was nice enough to forgive you for being so rude and gave you a chance.”

Pain and betrayal hit me like a truck going full speed. 

“I-I’m not l-lying!” I start shaking. I turn to Logan expectantly but to my surprise, he just looks away with a distraught expression on his face.

“Go to your room, Roman,” I don’t turn my attention back to Patton, instead I just start walking away.

As I leave, I hear Patton mumble to himself, “And to think that I labeled him the good one.”

I run to my room, making sure to slam the door as I go in.

They don’t care! They said they cared! They said we were friends! That we had each other’s backs! Was it all a lie!? Am I really that stupid and naive!? Why don’t they love me...? What did I do!?

I flop down on my bed, but I don’t cry, I felt like crying and I wanted to, but I couldn’t. So, I just lay there on my bed, staring up at the ceiling, feeling numb and broken.

____

I’m done! Enough is enough! I can’t do this anymore! They don’t care about me! None of them do! They all hate me! EVEN Thomas hates me now! I was supposed to be his hero! I was supposed to be the good one! 

I grip my sash tightly before ripping it off and tearing it to rags.

I don’t deserve it! Just like I don’t deserve any love and attention! I’m not good enough! I never will be! It isn’t fair!

I take off my prince costume, now only wearing the black shirt I usually wear underneath it. I take the shirt of my costume and quickly rip it up as well.

They chose a liar over me!? Why!? I’ve been trying so hard to prove myself to them! I kill myself to try and come up with creative ideas! I forced myself to change to meet their standards! I tore myself apart to please them!

I fall to the floor in defeat. A feeling of numbness suddenly washing over all my guilt, pain, sadness, and anger. Yet, even when I feel nothing but empty and numb, the tears won’t stop.

I followed Thomas’ request and tried to get rid of Virgil, only to get antagonized and proved wrong. So I tried my hardest to be nice to Virgil yet he is allowed to abuse and insults me all he wants! Then when I try to stand up for myself I get attacked by Thomas, Patton, and the fandom! I tried to be nice to De-Janus to show them I changed, and I’m wrong! So, I try being mean to him like they told me to be, and I’m wrong again! Nothing I ever do is right! Suddenly, Patton can be wrong just like everything we’ve known our whole life!

My wrist hurt, and I feel the blood of my multiple wounds running down my arm. My lungs begin to sting and burn, my throat clamps up keeping any air from reaching my lungs, my chest aches, and I start feeling lightheaded.

I want somebody... Anybody... I just need someone...

But who...? I’m all alone... I have nobody...

...Remus...

____

I stand outside of Remus’ room.

This is a bad idea... What if he laughs at me...!? But... He’s the only person I have left... 

I slowly knock on the door, cursing myself when I see how shaky my hand is.

After what seems like forever, the door opens and Remus looks at me with a shocked and concerned face.

“Roman?! What happened!? You look like shit! Are you okay!?” He slowly takes a step towards me and pulls me into a hug.

The second he hugs me, I fall apart again. 

Chocked sobs shake my body and I cling to Remus, hiding my face in his shoulder. I hear Remus sigh softly and he gently ushers me inside. He leads me to his bed and sits both of us down.

“Shhh, it’s okay Ro. You’re okay, just breathe.” 

I flinch slightly at how gentle and soft Remus’ voice is before nodding slightly. I start taking shaky deep breaths.

I don’t know how much time passes, but I eventually calm down. I slowly pull away from Remus and look down.

“I-I’m sorry... I didn’t mean to just come and burden you after all these years of ignoring you...” Despite how hard I try, my voice stays weak and tiny.

Remus, gently puts a comforting hand on my shoulder, “Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to apologize, you aren’t burdening me.”

I bite my lip, “A-are you sure...? I-I s-started crying... and b-bothering you with my i-issues...”

Remus hugs me again and softly says, “Roman. You aren’t a burden and you’re not bothering me. Just because you started crying doesn’t mean you have to apologize. It’s okay to cry.”

W-what...? But Virgil always said that I shouldn’t cry...? He says I’m just being annoying and self-centered... W-was he lying..?

I hesitantly nod, hugging Remus back, “Okay...”

Suddenly, I feel someone on the bed shift a bit and my heart sinks. 

S-someone else is here?!

I pull away from the hug and look behind me, not sure what to expect. The face staring back at me immediately makes all my anger come rushing back to me.

“What are you doing here, Snake?” My voice comes out harsher than I expected it to but I can’t be bothered to care.

I see Janus flinch slightly and Remus sighs.

“Ro, that was mean... Apologize to Jan.”

A-apologize... 

My heart drops and it suddenly becomes impossible to breathe. I feel Remus go to pull me into another hug but I push him away and quickly stand up.

“APOLOGIZE!? WHY DO I HAVE TO APOLOGIZE!?” At this point I’m crying and shaking again, but this time, they’re tears of anger, “AFTER EVERYTHING HE HAS DONE TO ME, I HAVE A RIGHT TO BE MAD!”

“Roman, I-” Janus starts but I quickly cut him off.

“YOU PRETENDED TO BE PATTON AND HAD ME PRANCE AROUND ON A STAGE, EXPLOITING MY TRUST AND SOMETHING I LOVE! THEN YOU MADE ME THE STUPID JUDGE IN YOUR DUMB TRIAL AND PRETENDED TO BE MY FRIEND! AND WHEN I DIDN’T AGREE WITH YOU, YOU PUNISHED ME BY HAVING MY BROTHER HIT ME OVER THE HEAD WITH HIS MORNING STAR! YOU FILLED MY HEAD WITH FAKE COMPLIMENTS, POKING AT MY INSECURITIES AND MY DESPERATION FOR SOME SORT OF PRAISE AND LOVE!” My voice quivers and shakes. 

At this point, I see tears form in the corner of Janus’ eyes, but I continue, mostly because I just NEED to rant.

“YOU USED ME JUST TO GET LISTENED TO! AND I GET IT! IT SUCKS TO BE IGNORED! BUT THAT DOESN’T JUSTIFY YOUR SHITTY ACTIONS! LOGAN GETS IGNORED AND YOU DON’T SEE HIM MANIPULATING OTHERS! I GET IGNORED AND YOU DON’T SEE ME EXPLOITING OTHERS WEAKNESS! REMUS GETS IGNORED AND YOU DON’T SEE HIM USING OTHERS! THERE ARE OTHER WAYS TO BE LISTENED!” My voice breaks off, unable to continue screaming.

I laugh, the laugh heavily laced with bitterness and sadness, then I crumple to the floor. 

“I-I have a r-right t-to...- T-to...-” I cut myself off and just cry into my hands, going from angry frustrated tears to sorrowful tears.

I hear both of them slowly stand up, Remus takes a knee next to me while Janus sits in front of me. I feel Remus starts to slowly and gently rub my back.

“Roman,” Janus’ voice is soothing and gentle, making me look up at him.

His face is full of guilt and the tears that pricked his eyes a few seconds ago were now slipping down.

“I’m SO sorry,” He continues, “I know what I did is wrong and that it seriously hurt you. I know that a sorry won’t fix the mess I’ve caused. And I know that nothing I do will change the past. But, I really am sorry. You don’t have to forgive me yet, you can forgive me when you are ready. For now, just breathe, everything will be okay.” 

I don’t have the strength to argue, not anymore. All I do is give him a small nod in response and start slowly breathing.

Remus starts slowly breathing with me while Janus whispers reassurance, and it surprising helps, a lot. I continue breathing, and slowly start calming down.

It will be okay...?

____

“How are you feeling Ro?” Remus asks in a gentle calming voice.

I smile a little and quietly mumble, “I feel slightly better. Thank you.”

He nods, smiling softly, “Of course Ro.”

“So,” I turn my attention to Janus, “Do you think you’re ready to tell us what happened?” He keeps his voice super gentle and soothing.

His tone helps keep me calm and I slowly nod, “Yeah...”

They both look at me, and I can’t help but feel a warmth in my heart.

They’re willing to listen to me... They’re actually going to listen... 

I take a deep breath, ready to just get everything off my chest.

____

To be continued.

I finally finished! This took so long, but I really liked it. Also, kinda sucks that this had to come out on Roman’s birthday, but I really didn’t want to post it any later. So, yeah, part 2 will be out soon. Later! 

Tell me if you want to be tagged or removed.

@anti-virgil  @romanvirgil  @yeet-ceit  @nachosforfree  @unsympathetic-virgil @sanders-sides-soap-box   @virgil-negativity  @a-gay-angel @potatsanderssides @sapphire-knight  @a-small-snidget @easterpop-reblogs @nostarsinthedark @itriedandimtired @cemmy @unus-janus

[i-will-be-your-ace]

Merchant and the Death herself (Gods au) part 2

part 1

A little girl played in her family’s garden. It belonged to them for centuries. All flowers, bushes and trees bloomed with different colors. Especially the old gigantic sakura tree. Marinette always loved looking at it. Today she and her parents had a picnic.

Little blunette played with a ball until it rolled away after one kick. Marinette immediately went to retrieve it. When she picked the ball she found herself near the beautiful sakura. Mari felt strange about it. She crossed the distance and hesitantly placed her small hand on the sakura but the strange irritating feeling was still present. Out of nowhere the tree started dying, everything that grew on it did the same.

“ DEMON!”

Marinette quickly turned around and saw the terrified faces of her parents.

“ GET OUT OF HERE YOU CURSED CHILD!”

Mari never ran so quickly before. She raced for days as fast as she could taking a small rest here and there. She was in the depth of some foggy and big forest when her sleep deprived body fell unconscious on the ground.

A lonely man walked through his favorite forest. The quiet atmosphere of it always calmed him down. But today it felt wrong. He stopped for moment trying to locate what made him feel that way. He sensed a soul that reminded him of himself when he was young. He teleported to this soul, to the unconscious girl. A girl that was the next Death, his heiress.

The first thing Marinette heard were hushed voices. She slowly opened her eyes .

“ Guys, she’s waking up.”

“ I’m going to call father.”

“ Hey wait for me, Felix! You don’t even know where he is right now! Luka stay with her, you’re the calmest.”

She took a sitting position and looked at the boy, Luka, that had a dark hair with aqua tips and blue eyes. He smiled at her and brought his hand for a handshake.

“ Hello, as you can guess my name is Luka. What about you?”

Marinette stared at his arm for a few seconds and unsurely shook it.

“ Marinette… Where am I?”

“ We are far from any city. Currently you’re in one of many guest rooms that we have in our house.”

She nodded and tried to think about what to do next. She knew that she can’t stay here for long. If or rather when they’ll find out about what she can do they’ll probably do the same thing her parents did.

Marinette’s spiral of thoughts was stopped by a sound of an opening door. Felix and Kagami were standing with a man, probably their father. He was tall with tanned skin, short messy black hair and piercing green eyes.

“ Well hello there, my dear. Kids, it would be nice if you left me alone with our guest.”

All three of them nodded and left the room. Luka, still being close to her, was the last to leave. He waved in goodbye before closing the door.

With that the head of the house sat at the foot of the bed.

“ My name is Plagg. I hope you feel better after the rest. If you have any questions feel free to ask. But first, what’s your name, sweetheart?” His voice was calming and soft that soothed her nerves.

“ My name is Marinette Dup- just Marinette. Um… Why am I here, mister Plagg?”

“ No need for formalities. To answer your question, I found you unconscious in the woods so I brought you here to help you. Also… I’m pretty sure you’re my heiress.” With those words he glanced at her with a serious expression.

“ Your… heiress? What do you mean by that mis- Plagg?”

“ You see Mari- can I call you that?” she nodded and with that permission he continued “You see, Mari, I am known in the Gods’ world as The God of Death and Destruction. You have the power of death in you and that means that you are the next Goddess of Death.”

Marinette’s mind was filled with different thoughts. It was a known fact that all Gods and Goddesses of Death were as important as the Gods and Goddesses of Life. For that reason, unlike Life, they never revealed themselves. You are lucky if you met one without dying and it was honor to actually know them.

Seeing that she wasn’t responding Plagg proceeded talking.

“ I know it sounds unbelievable but it’s true. I can feel that power in you. And I know that a person doesn’t look like they didn’t sleep for days and they definitely don’t fall unconscious without a reason. I think I’ll say for everyone that you are more than welcome to stay here if you wish too. Right guys?” After that he looked at the door and Marinette could hear three pairs of legs trying and failing to walk away.

“ B-but why? Why would you offer that to me?”

“ You’re not the first kid I would adopt. And I know what it’s like to be in your place. If you’re not called the God of Death then you are considered a monster with such power. I remember surviving like that on the streets. I don’t want a kid to suffer like that even if they aren’t Death. I offer you to stay in a warm house with food, water and a family even if you refuse to be the Goddess.”

Mari knew what will be her answer but there was one last question that she wanted to ask.

“ What if I would like to be Death? ”

Plagg hummed “Well I would teach you everything I know. So, what do you say?”

A small but determined smile appeared on her face.

“ Yes. ”

Plagg beamed at her and opened his arms “ Wanna hug?”

Marinette was sure that inside this grown man was a kid but nonetheless she hugged him.

With that three kids gained a sister. Plagg was happy that the titles of Death and Destruction were split between two instead of one. He was afraid that his son, Felix, would struggle the same way he did.

A new sibling bond formed. Luka and Marinette would stargaze and listen to music together. Her and Kagami bonded over fencing and their love for ice cream. She bonded with Felix while reading with him and during their training from Plagg, his and now her father.

Dad taught her how to control death giving her a task of growing a garden. Some bad memories appeared in her head but she ignored them reminding herself that it was in the past. Slowly but surely her garden grew. The first plant that she managed to not kill was wisteria that still blooms. Everyone enjoyed sitting under it during quiet and peaceful days.

Once while taking a walk through her garden she felt how someone died to early. Marinette frowned and with a blink of an eye she was at the place where it happened. There she saw a fifteen year old boy, killed by the hands of The Joker, The God of Madness, on the ground. Plagg once said that if she felt like someone died to early she could bring them to the pond of life, that was created by him and the Goddess of Life. Mari carefully picked him up and appeared in front of the blessed water. The process of reviving was quick and with that Marinette brought the sleeping boy to the place where she found him hoping that somebody will take him to his family.

For some reason Marinette started looking after the boy, Jason, from afar or in her invisible form. She saw his bad and good moments, and wished to be there for him to help but she couldn’t. At least right now.

Their father once told that he was tired on wanted to take a vacation. With that four adults started planning. Right now Marinette sat cross-legged on the floor with her elbow on the knee, holding her chin in mentioned hand, Luka strummed his guitar from where he lied on the couch, Kagami sat near Marinette with her head on bluenette’s shoulder while Felix stood in front of the broad that had a lot of papers attached on it

“ Alright. Dad mentioned that he wanted a vacation. So I think we should give him one. I calculated and the best day is his birthday, that is close. I picked some good locations that he would like.” Felix started explaining the places and why he picked them.

All of them sighed tiredly understanding that they won’t be able to stop him. But Kagami successfully interrupted him.

“ Okay, good plan. But you missed something. He has responsibilities as a God.”

“ Aha! I knew one of you would ask that! Mari and I will replace him.”

Marinette blinked “We will?”

Felix clapped continuing his plan.

“ Yes. Don’t worry we are ready and in case something happens we can always call him to ask for help. So who’s in?”

Luka raised his hand first.

“ It’s not like we have a choice. Plus dad needs to rest a little.”

Marinette was second “Dad deserves it.”

Kagami didn’t hesitate to raise her hand “I’m in.”

After Plagg’s birthday, new God of Destruction and Goddess of Death appeared. The news spread fast and soon all of the Gods were discussing it.

Taglist:

@moonlightstar64 @amayakans @jeminiikrystal @maribat-is-lifeblood @nightstarblue @dorkus-minimus @fandoms-run-my-life @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @mandy984 @otaku4312 @novicevoice @paradoxal-occurance @zalladane @elspethshadow @dreamykitty25

[sergeanttpoliteness]

➹one love confession, please➹(peter b. parker x reader)

The sad and divorced man who’s become a regular for the past year is constantly spilling his emotions to you, his favorite bartender. This wasn’t something new; you can’t count with both of your hands the times you’ve heard someone recount the odyssey of their life. But these flutters in your stomach were definitely something you didn’t experience with your customers, and you definitely did not end up making out with them at the end of the night. Maybe Peter B. was your only exception, though.

(PART I)

word count: 12.3k (oof)

warnings: cursing, alcohol, and mentions of sex (let me know if i missed something!)

a/n: it’s five am where i live and this is already awfully long so i’m gonna make it as brief as i can. first, i’m sorry it took eight months, but at last, it’s here, and i’m so happy and proud of it ! thank you a million times for the amazing support this story got, seriously. second, this was also for @connorshero 1.6k followers writing challenge, and i can’t express enough how ashamed i am that it took so long lmao, i’m a clown. it’s here, tho, and i hope i hear your thoughts and that y’all enjoy it (:

taglist: @fanbase-jumper

Never in a million years would you have deemed possible a human could undergo through such a crushing feeling of dread, yet, sadly, you found yourself to be wrong, for there you were, a pressure smothering your lungs and an iciness washing over you. You never would have imagined yourself hiding in the bathroom from a certain Peter B. Parker, either; but then again, contrary to your previous thinking, there you sat on the closed toilet seat, your eyes squeezed shut, breathing heavily as a frostbite in your heart eclipsed any other thoughts in your head.

For the last few days, you had tried to repress a memory which physically pained you as you worked at the bar, almost as if it were nothing more than a bizarre dream you had one night, or a movie you watched as a little kid and couldn’t figure out as a grown-up whether it was real or not. It didn’t take long before in your restless little brain, that date did not exist in the calendar. So… strange, how all of sudden you couldn't remember anything from that night. Yeah, nothing happened. There’s no reason or possible explanation as to why you nearly dropped dead to the ground every time the entrance opened, or why your lower stomach erupted like a geyser refusing to rest whenever you caught a glimpse in the mirror of the bruises on your neck and, just maybe, somewhere in the back of your head, recalled how they came to be in the first place; how the small vessels burst, why they’re there. Your self-induced amnesia surprisingly worked. Yeah, like a charm. Until you looked up for the billionth time and it wasn’t another false alarm. The fortress of protection you constructed collapsed as if it took no effort to build it, because there he was— there stood Peter, just a few feet away from you.

Of course, you panicked; hysterically searched your surroundings for an excuse to leave, but no one wanted to bother you when you most needed it. Terrible luck, indeed. You only had two choices (although, really, you most likely had more): you could be, you know, smart and face your problems, or, Peter, to be more concise, or you could run away to hide and wait it out in the bathroom. So, after analyzing it thoroughly for approximately two seconds, what did you do?

Get the fuck out of there, obviously; you threw your towel, sped out of the bar, and instantly headed to have the meltdown of the century in the bathroom.

You screamed into your hands as you relived everything in your head, stomping your foot on the floor tiles. Remorse didn’t suffice anymore to explain the sharp pain in your stomach. You’d sabotaged yourself— you got a nip that night, a morsel of something greater, a catalyst for ‘what if’s and a total loss of self-control, because once the temporary high didn’t satiate you any longer, you’d seek it again. Regardless of your constant imbecility, you weren’t oblivious: it was nothing more than a distraction for Peter’s troubles and conflicting emotions over a woman he’d married, and it would never mean anything to him. It never would, despite how much it meant to you.

Suddenly, your phone vibrated in your pocket. You pulled it out, narrowed eyes reading the recent message while your heart went ballistic.

‘You can’t stay there forever, he’s starting to get suspicious.’

You breathed out, partially relieved. It was your friend. You texted him earlier as you lost it in the bathroom stall, as one does. You were close to getting on your knees and start praying to any superior entity that he was simply imagining stuff like most of the time, attempting to read in between the lines when, in reality, all Peter did was drink his whiskey served over ice, totally unconcerned. Yes, perhaps, you running away didn’t signify ‘subtle’, and the fact that you two hadn’t shared a word or texted ever since you fled his apartment a week prior didn’t brighten the situation at all. Why should it matter if you chose to continue escaping your issues? You could stay there forever, and it was no one’s business. The bar’s urine-scented bathroom could be your new home.

Your phone rang again. ‘Dude, c’mon.’

Goddammit.

Your friend shouldn’t have the power to knock some sense into you with just two messages, but he did anyway. You required an abundance of courage you did not carry to hesitantly walk out of the stall, and then the bathroom. You were sure your heart could hop out of your chest, as gruesome as it may have been, at any moment as Peter’s figure came closer and closer to you with each dreadful step you took. It wasn’t as dramatic in real life, most likely (most definitely). But as if you finally understood your situation, the charisma awakened from its sleep and, in an instant, you let out a disappointed ‘aw!’, replacing your terrified features with an exaggerated pout. “Oh, man! Somebody else already took your order? Unbelievable.”

He reacted as though he overheard the most unbelievable noise— a call from God itself or extraterrestrial life, because he could’ve gotten some whiplash by the way in which his head jerked up.

Peter cleared his throat, unsure of what to do with his hands as he showed you a tight-lipped smile. “Uh, hey! Hey…” He exclaimed and you winked at him. “I thought you weren’t here, or something.”

You thought for a moment. For real this time. You couldn’t say ‘I was just having a breakdown in the bathroom’. “Nah, my boss just needed my help… with stuff,” You waved your hand, aware that your boss had left an hour ago. He hummed and nodded, downing his shot. Wait. Your eyes returned to his glass when you fully took it in. It wasn’t whiskey served over ice.

You pointed at the empty drink in his grasp. “What’s that?” 

He glanced down at it, raising a brow. “What, you’ve never seen a shot of vodka?”

“No, no, I mean— yeah, but what the hell happened to your whiskey?”

Peter pressed his lips together, shrugging one shoulder. “I dunno, guess I just… got tired of it?”

The corner of your lips tugged down momentarily. “Ah, I see…” You distracted yourself with a glass, cleaning it despite its already pristine look. You just needed anything to focus on other than Peter. “This is so tragic, your whiskey days have come to an end.” You joked, laughing quietly and disguising the aching in your chest.

He tilted his head, quirking an eyebrow and grinning a confused smile. “What’s wrong with vodka?”

“It’s just… so boring.”

An incredulous grin stretched across his face. “More boring than whiskey?”

Your smile faded, a frown taking its place. “I… I’m guessing I had just grown used to it— I don’t know.”

For the first time in a whole year of weekly meetings and ongoing chatter, an uncomfortable silence sat amongst you two. And for the first time, too, you did not know what to say. “Y/N?” You looked up at him attentively, although you did not want to hear what he had to say at all.

Peter avoided your gaze, instead focusing on his lap, and opened his mouth, closing it when you couldn’t think up any words. “I think, uh… we gotta talk, right? About… y’know.” Your face heated up as red as a field of roses.

You laughed nervously, your hands on the bar as you slanted forward. “...About what?”

“Just, about what happened, and that thing you said the morning after—”

“Did I say anything the morning after?” You cut him off, wishing you’d stuck with your plan of moving into the bathroom.

To your horror, your biggest fear unfolded as Peter let out air through his nose, chuckling without humor.

“Are you gonna try to convince me it was a dream again?” You nearly passed out as Peter cited the words you so vividly remembered uttering. “‘You’re just dreaming?’” It all came back to you, everything— your forced memory loss received a fatal blow as memories bombarded your brain: Peter’s face twisted with puzzlement and sleep after you blurted out your utter nonsense and— how could you forget, oh God, how could you— the cherry on top, your uncomfortably intense five-second staring contest as you headed for the door and dashed out of his apartment.

“‘Wake up?’” He continued and you merely blinked back at him. He didn’t need to fucking quote you and remind you what a joke you were— who does that? But also, who tells the guy you just hooked up with that he’s dreaming after he caught you in the midst of trying to sneak out? B-B-Bingo! Of course, of course it had to be you out of all people.

You stood frozen, like you did that embarrassing morning, begging your head to stop it with the callbacks and breathing out. “What if it was a dream? You never know.” You said, unwilling to give up your idiocy. Peter stared at you, his lack of amusement terrifying you further.

“A dream.”

“Yeah.”

He rubbed his face. “Jesus Christ, Y/N—”

“What?”

“Stop acting like an idiot, please.”

“Peter, you literally could’ve brought up anything else other than this.” You hissed, exasperated. “Any other fucking thing.”

“I can’t not bring this up.”

“Well, why not? I surely can.”

“‘Cause it was weird.”

You grimaced and covered your face with your hands, muffling your words, “Oh my God, I know, I fucking know. What did you want me to do—”

“I don’t know, maybe just talk, you know!” He suggested with raised hands, the harsh sarcasm in his voice deepening your pained expression. “Wh-why did you even say that?! Like—”

“I didn’t want to be there! I just wanted to leave, okay?!” You admitted loudly, uncaring of your blatancy. When you didn’t hear him, your shaking hands slowly unveiled your face. A man two seats away eyed you two as he drank, while Peter stared at the counter with knitted brows, digesting what you said.

“Do you wish it had been a dream?” He asked quietly. You began to tap your finger, your lips shaping the words you wanted to speak, but didn’t exactly know how to.

“No. That’s not it, I…” You croaked out. You couldn’t continue when you noticed what you thought was a flourishing desire in his eyes which you saw that same night back at his place. Just say it. Your fingertips thudded the wood faster, your feet shifting, voice stuttering. Say you’d do it again.

“It was just a one-time thing, right?” You whispered. Then, you doubted if that lust had simply been a delusion your brain fabricated. That, perhaps, you yearned for something bigger so badly you’d projected your own silly cravings onto the man, for all trace of that weakening glimmer was now nothing more than the familiar amity the always held.

“Yeah. Sure.”

“Right.” You breathed out.

“It was just a one-time thing.” He repeated as if it were obvious.

“Yes.” You both nodded, unable to look at each other straight in the eye without squirming. As soon as some clients called for you, you shared a last glance before you left. When you returned, all you found were some crumpled dollar bills and no sign of Peter.

You didn’t buy him a gift. And neither did he, but he did send you a message saying, ‘Merry Christmas!’, and there exists a possibility that you broke down crying whilst drunk because of the smiley face he wrote along with it, but that’s something you wouldn’t ever disclose— even if it happened one more time during New Year’s Eve as your head pounded with the people around you religiously blowing their party horns. That was it, though. You didn’t see him at the bar, which a part of you could only be thankful for, but the remaining kicked itself for not fixing things when you had the chance to. For not being honest when you could have.

Your friend yet again with his wisdom from the gods told you to stop wasting time and move on with your life, albeit not as kindly, as if saying it in such a way wasn’t hurtful enough. However, after being too sensitive for two seconds, you sucked it up and knew that he was right. 

You managed to keep Peter out of your thoughts most of the time, focusing on your job and getting additional money with your paintings to treat yourself. You could go out more with your friends, buy a new TV, maybe save for the vacation you’d been dreaming of for the past years. For some time, as there was no Peter in your head nor at the bar, it was just like before the man nearing his forties and with a really, really nice nose sat down in front of you.

You could only maintain him out of your orbit for so long, though.

You sat at another bar two blocks down your place, hunched over and your eyes glued on your cell phone’s screen, anticipation pulling imaginary strings connected to your fingers which fidgeted, tossed the device from hand to hand. Your friend was the fourth person you texted in the last thirty minutes, an act born from desperation, perhaps; created upon an urgency for an anchor, a quick fix that would momentarily patch up the heaviness in your chest that made an unwanted visit too many times to your liking and dissipate all the thoughts in your head. You needed something, a distraction, anything— hell, you’d even texted your boss, a known shopaholic, asking if she wanted to go shopping. But everyone appeared to be doing something that night, too engaged in their own affairs to remember you. It was selfish, you understood, to think that way; they had lives, after all. Nevertheless, that selfishness was a blemish you couldn’t vanish as the three dots emerged, followed by the exact same message you dreaded: ‘Can’t tonight, I’m with dad. What about tomorrow?’ There was no tomorrow, though. No, you ached for it right now, in that instant, something.

Peter.

No. You couldn’t. Another decline was a final blow you couldn’t withstand, anyway, especially from him. However, you weren’t the one making the decisions anymore. Your heart manipulated your limbs, and in a blur, you’d searched his contact. Too soon to your liking, you heard that tedious beeping, your heartbeat then the sole noise in your ears once it halted. All of a sudden, you couldn’t talk, your words lodged in your throat, because it was strange to hear that voice again and it was too much for you right now.

“Y/N? Are you there?” Peter said after you didn’t make the slightest sound, hesitance evident in his tone, for he wondered whether it’d been an accidental butt dial. You took in a big breath and pressed your phone closer to your ear, your elbows aching from the hard counter they rested upon.

“...Hi.” You scrunched up your nose, shaking your head at yourself.

“What… what’s up?” It was odd, you both knew, because when did you ever call each other, and when was the last time you two talked? But turning a blind eye to your friend’s advice, you itched to fulfill your own cravings that night— it didn’t really matter what kind, but just a friend was all you needed, just someone.

You stuttered for a while, internally grateful he remained silent and waited for you to clear your mind. “Nothing. That’s why I’m calling, I guess. Just wanted to talk.”

“To talk?” You could hear the engines of driving vehicles in the background and you frowned, scratching the back of your head.

“Sorry, are you busy? I didn’t mean to bother you. I can call another time—”

“No, no!” He stopped you, your heart growing wings, fluttering and capable of flying out of your chest with how gentle he sounded. “I just got done with something and I’m going back home, you don’t have to hang up.”

You hit the tip of your shoes against the bar, tense brows still not relaxing. “Oh, okay…”

“Are you at work?

“No, my shift ends at a normal time on Friday’s, thankfully.”

He chuckled. “Oh, I see— so you’re home alone and bored?”

You observed the place around you, focusing on the bartender and then on your drink. “Eh, not exactly.” You closed your hand into a fist, struggling to not dissect the skin around your nails like an animal in a biology class. “I know this is unusual, we never really talk outside of the bar and we haven’t seen each other in a while, but…”

“It’s kinda our first phone call, isn’t it?”

You smiled, your lip trembling. “Y-Yeah. Our first phone call.” You almost cursed when your voice wavered.

“Hey, you alright?” 

You sighed, scratching your head. “Not gonna lie, I’ve been better.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

“It’s stupid, I don’t know.  It’s a Friday night— everyone’s out having a good time, and I’m just… here, in a bar and on my own.” You shrugged, your nails carving the timber.

“It’s not stupid.” He murmured and you snorted, unconvinced. “If it makes you feel any less alone, I’m not exactly out partying and having a good time, either.”

“Do you even still party, grandpa?”

“Just ‘cause I’m old, it doesn’t mean I still haven’t got the moves.”

“It definitely sounds like you don’t.”

“Don’t sound so sure, you haven’t seen me at my best.” Seeing him wasn’t necessary, you could easily imagine his teasing grin.

“Hm, yeah, I’d immediately take off my clothes if you pretended to lasso me at the club.” You both giggled and you hugged yourself, glancing at the empty stool beside you, biting the inside of your cheek. “Do you maybe want to come and have a drink with me?” You shot your shot, to your thumping heart’s dismay. Guessing by the click you distinguished, he probably just got back home.

“...Have a drink with you?”

“J-Just to hangout, you know.” You quickly explained. “Chat for a while. I can pay, if you want.”

You waited for a response, a rejection. But it didn’t come.

It was quite embarrassing, to say the least, that after he agreed and you hung up, you almost dropped your phone with how the fright weakened your arms as you tried to send him the bar’s address. You eagerly waited, too, like a damn puppy anticipating its owner’s return at the end of the day. Using your phone’s selfie camera, you checked your appearance, tidying up all just to make yourself look way more put together than you actually were, even if you were in a bar, alone, and, well, drinking. Despite your awaiting, though, you were taken off guard when a man chose to settle down beside you and cleared his throat.

“I gotta say, it’s weird to see you on the other side of the bar,” Peter smiled as a greeting. Your eyes scanned him, taking in his presence, struggling to process it as if he were a ghost. In your defense, it did feel as if he hadn’t been part of your world for the last two months.

You chuckled, shyly moving your view to your beverage. “Sorry, I won’t be playing bartender tonight.”

“Too bad, I like it when you give me free drinks.”

“Technically, you still are getting free drinks from me tonight.”

He huffed, a crooked smile lingering on his face. You called for the bartender and side-glanced at Peter, quietly asking what he wanted and biting back a disappointed grunt when it wasn’t whiskey served over ice. Whatever. It was just a drink. You two didn’t share a look after that small interaction, though, your face flustered, redder than the bartender’s awful and painful-to-look-at-from-how-bright-it-was shirt. You preferred to believe it was the alcohol, regardless of the truth that you hadn’t drunk that much yet. But your skin burned since he was there, and suddenly, the last disastrous meeting you two experienced replayed way too loudly in your head, the scorching sensation only spreading further and gaining more vigor with the possibility that it did the same in his, too. The unspoken and evident discomfort was enough to make you assume that it definitely was on his mind. 

You made the effort to spark up a conversation with the dreaded small talk. ‘How have you been?’, ‘Anything new?’, ‘The weather’s been pretty cold lately, huh?’— blah, blah, blah. Nonetheless, neither of you had more to say other than short, boring responses. It became so unbearable, you knew the only way you could get through this night— seeing as you couldn’t leave after he’d just gotten there— depended on your current and whoever many you could afford future drinks. Quite an alcoholic mindset, perhaps, but there was no way you were the only one or that Peter didn’t have the same wish as you.

Holding your third drink, tispy thoughts pressed you to climb out of the hell you were in. You turned your body to face him, nudging his leg with your foot. He’d been paying attention to a wildlife documentary and an animal hiding from its predator before he lifted an eyebrow and nodded at you. “What?”

“Where have you been?”

A crease formed between his brows as he found it hard to differentiate this question from the one you asked earlier. “I told you, I haven’t really been up to much—”

You shook your head. “That’s not what I asked. Where have you been?” Peter pursed his lips, contemplating.

“New York.”

You hummed, bringing your drink up to your lips. “Okay. So if you were here, how come I haven’t seen you since, uh—” You pretended to count in your head, tongue poking out of your mouth as you summed with your fingers. “—December?”

“I was busy.” You narrowed your eyes.

“I thought you hadn’t been up to much?”

“I… haven’t,” Peter said slowly, too far in to escape the contradiction. You bit your lip before finishing your half-empty drink all in one go, head spinning, the weight in your stomach drawing you down to the Earth’s core.

It’s difficult to perceive the line between overthinking and legitimacy. It’s so fine and faint, like a message written with chalk in the middle of the neighborhood’s road that can only be deciphered if you stare at it long and closely enough after the days have passed by and the rain showered upon it. On one side, the message was nothing more than scrawls and nonsensical letters, an unnecessary distraction on the road disrupting you from reaching your destination on time. But then, there was the other side: the truth. A truth that, funnily enough, you reached by overthinking in the first place. Which was what occurred when you suspected the reasoning behind the lack of Peter in your life could be pinpointed to the man purposefully avoiding you; and, right now, grasped that, after all, it wasn’t just another case of irrational overanalyzing. 

“Do you hate me?” You blurted out, your eyes going round with the disappearance of your filter. Confusion overflowed Peter’s head and spilled into his expression, adorning his face.

“Huh?”

“Do you hate me—”

“Yeah, I heard you the first time. Where the hell did that come from, though?”

“You’ve been ignoring me.” You stated the obvious, visibly hurt. Peter denied with his head the misconception, sighing.

“It wasn’t intentional.” He assured you not just with his words but his gaze, too. You pressed your lips together, not fully convinced.

“Was it not?” You asked with a small quirk of your mouth. He stared at you, embarrassment crawling across his skin.

“Alright, maybe it was.” He admitted sheepishly. You let out air through your nose, turning on your seat.

“So you do hate me.”

“Y/N,” Peter called for your attention, although he knew it was half-joke. You returned your attention to him. “If I hated you, would I be here, sitting next to you?” He questioned, motioning around him. You shrugged one shoulder, a grin growing on your face.

“I don’t know, maybe you’re just being nice.” You said and he groaned jokingly, sporting his very own lopsided grin.

“I’m being nice because I like you.”

Your smile fell for an instant, but you put the expression back up, reminding yourself that, once more, it didn’t go further than platonic. “Good. But you were mad, then.”

“No, not exactly.”

“You left without saying goodbye last time.”

Peter frowned, rubbing the nape of his neck. “I did. Sorry.” He apologized, the sincerity interlaced in his voice worsening your state. You wanted to place your hand on your chest, as you diagnosed with your zero quantity of medical knowledge that you had a high chance of having a heart attack before the night came to an end.

“I’m sorry, too.”

“Why?”

“Well,” You placed your chin on the palm of your hand, moving your eyes elsewhere. “First, for being a dumbass back when we hoo—”

“You know what? You’re fine.” He interrupted you. “Save yourself some time.”

Your brows snapped together. “But—”

“You were right. Let’s just not talk about it and move on, alright?” He waved his hand, grabbing his drink. “If you do talk about it, I think I’m actually gonna get up and leave.”

You laughed, nodding. “Ah, I see. So that’s why you’ve been ignoring me, then?”

His actions halted in the midst of taking a sip. “Maybe.” He answered vaguely.

You rolled your eyes. “You can’t just run away from your problems, Peter.” You pointed out like the hypocrite you were, particularly after that was exactly what you were doing not too long ago. Peter, unaware of this, however, had to admit you spoke the truth as he rubbed his nose with his knuckles, grumbling.

“You see, you say that, but I’m still gonna continue doing it.”

“No, you’re not, because we’re going to discuss this like adults—”

“As an adult, I’m telling you that all is good and I’m over it.” He finished with a warning tone you couldn’t take seriously and you giggled. “Next topic.” 

“Okay, grandpa. Sure thing. All is good.” You grinned, the ice in your heart melting off as he copied your countenance.

“For real this time.”

“Yeah. For real this time. Can I be honest with you, though?” Peter waited for you to go on, paying close attention, his gaze soft. You stared at him for a moment too long ‘till your eyes moved to your hand now feebly holding your empty drink. “I missed you. Kind of. Is that dumb?” You mumbled, your voice small.

You couldn’t properly see him, but through your peripheral vision, you didn’t catch any movement. That’s when you prepared to scream ‘sike!’ to his face— a real-life undo button to delete the emotions you couldn’t take back and shove down your system anymore. However, it felt… good. For once, it wasn’t spilling your guts out and regretting everything as you attempted to cram your organs back into you; you had plucked out a thorn that’d been hanging inside the palm of your hand for far too long. It was liberating. And you peered up at him, expecting that relief to be temporary, but his tender features didn’t let that happen.

“...No. I missed you, too.”

You both smiled.

The conversation began to flow. Words started to spill, and although you weren’t at the bar, you enjoyed that exact same security and blissful buzz. You realized then— a revelation that did not help your case— the location didn’t play an important role, and perhaps it never did; bar or not, if Peter was there, you’d still feel stupidly and overly content. Your worries faded away as you two caught up with no drop of MJ’s name, but some lingered anyway, because change was inevitable, looming over you. Laughter left your lips, his hand rested close to yours on the counter. You noticed, but couldn’t bring yourself to pull away, to walk away from the euphoria tainting your body. More liquor entered his, over time you stared at his mouth one, two, three, four seconds too long as you became intoxicated along with him, and so did he with yours.

“C’mon, tell me.” You pouted for an instant, interchanging it for a drunk smile. “Your secret dies with me.”

Peter slammed his fifth drink down, cheeks tinted pink. It was wrong, indeed, to take advantage of his condition and try to get out of him something you’d wanted to know for the longest time, and that he kept to himself as if it were government classified information. In your drunken brain, it did not seem too far off. Perhaps he went on outrageous underground missions. You laughed at yourself. Peter didn’t seem like a spy-type of guy. Unless…

“Do you, like, work for the government?” Peter screwed up his face at your absurdity.

“No.”

“Then what is it?”

Peter opened his mouth, a giggle escaping. “I can’t.” You dragged your stool closer to him, as you weren’t close enough already. Actually, when did you get so close? It didn’t matter. You analyzed his face, hoping that somehow, if you looked at him long enough, you’d gain the ability to read minds and crack into his. Peter drew his lower lip between his teeth, studying you like you were the most interesting being. You didn’t know why, but you felt tempted to move that strand of hair that always hung in front of his forehead away from his face. As any rational person wouldn’t, you did, your thumb brushing against the barely visible scratch that started the conversation in the first place.

“What are you thinking?” You questioned, brimming with interest. He went crossed-eyed as he tried to follow your hand.

“About stuff. Whatcha thinkin’?” He asked back, his view traveling down to your lips. You bit your lip.

The closeness, your full-blown pupils, the actuality that you could lean closer to him and you’d meet his lips. It all seemed too familiar. And so you wondered, if you did move and kiss him, if you stopped resisting and glanced down at his lips, too, what would happen?

“I don’t know. What does it look like I’m thinking?” You asked, lowering your voice. The stench of alcohol should have been enough to stop you both from advancing any further, but Peter licked his lips, smirking.

“It seems to me like you wanna fuck me.”

You gasped, hiccuping. “Oh, my! I didn’t know this part of yours, Peter B. Parker. Is it just the alcohol speaking?”

“Maybe. But is it true?”

“What?”

“What I said.”

Your upper body swayed closer to him, tired, dizzy, and wishing to lie down. You gripped his shoulder and helped yourself add some distance, your other hand landing on his knee. “Maybe.” You simply said. Your eyes remained interlocked into one another, your hand running up his shoulder to his neck, and then all the way up to the back of his head, sensing his goosebumps. “Maybe…” You repeated as your touch on his knee traveled up his thigh. Peter took in a sharp breath, his hand unconsciously wrapping around your wrist.

You couldn’t help it anymore. You leaned in and captured his mouth in a rough kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. Pull away, a voice said in your head as you felt his tongue momentarily slide against your bottom lip. Pull away, the nagging voice went on and you did, shaking your head.

“I told myself I wouldn’t let this happen again.” You whispered, yet your mouth came back into a messy kiss, even messier hands craving touch. Breaking glass startled you two apart and you looked down, sighing when you saw your drink’s contents all over the ground. “You owe me a drink.” You panted, your lips swollen.

Peter scoffed, his half-smile blurring your vision as he tilted his head towards your ear. “Nothing has to happen if you don’t want it to.” He said, mouth ghosting near your cheek despite his words, yearning to continue. You pecked his jaw, lips resting against his hot skin, careless about the other customers in the bar.

“I do want something to happen, though.”

You both ignored the conversation your sober selves had. ‘It was just a one-time thing, right?’. Peter slammed your apartment’s door closed whilst your lips were still connected, your hands clumsily coming down to try to unbuckle his belt. ‘Yeah’. His own hands aided yours, the clinking of his belt buckle speeding up your heartbeat as if it weren’t already dangerously fast. ‘It was just a one-time thing’. Peter groaned into your mouth, tasting like liquor, like something you’d both regret the next morning but did not care about the consequences, even if it was a lesson you’d already learned. Not at the moment.

But nothing happened.

You couldn’t recall much the next morning. The first proof that it didn’t go further from a make-out session was that you woke up in your bed, alone, and wearing the same clothes as the previous night. The second evidence you gathered when you barged into your living room and there slept Peter on your couch, his appearance also identical to the one in your hazy memories. He didn’t remember anything. As you struggled to cease your trembling legs, he simply laughed and asked if he got so wasted he had to crash at your place. You shrugged and smiled, still capable of tasting his lips and vividly feel his hot breath.

From then on, you avoided drinking or being too exhausted to have any common sense when you were around Peter. One day he invited you to go out and have a few drinks again, to ‘repay’ you, and to which you responded as calmly as you could that you had other ‘plans’; other plans that, truthfully, were faker than the disappointed expression of yours that followed. Then, as if you couldn’t ever reach a state of peace, he asked again a month later, and you had no other choice than to invent a faulty reason for why you didn’t feel like drinking that night, the next night, or the one after, even if, according to all the drunk stories you’d recounted to him in the past, you never really turned down a drink or the opportunity to get inebriated. Guilt poisoned you when he never brought up the idea after that, fingers crossed that he didn’t get the impression you didn’t want to meet him in other circumstances other than the bar; regardless that that’s exactly what was going on. Every other night after he helped you with closing the bar, you’d also nod goodbye at him and stand in the middle of the sidewalk, waiting until he turned around the corner so your feet could dreadfully carry you to the subway station, your now-unfixable car present in your head like an aggravating piece of gum that stuck to your shoe.

Nothing could be more vexing than this, though.

Eventually, you began to wonder. Perhaps, yet again, you were as weary as that time you slept with Peter, seeing as you couldn’t think straight, almost as if you’d suffered from a concussion and all your neurons died, to your utmost dismay. But there was a dissimilarity: the unfortunate detail that, unlike physical fatigue, mental exhaustion wouldn’t pack its bags and wave farewell after a night-long sleep. Not when immediately after you woke up, the same worries still found their home within your head. So your imagination took it as an initiative to force feelings and schemes onto you, ones which involved the stomach-churning plausibility that maybe, just maybe, Peter liked you back and you could happily come clean. You had to laugh. But then you really started to wonder.

You needed at least six reasons to follow through with it. First. He was the one who made a move months ago. Second. He wasn’t drunk. Third, you listed in your head, you kissed. Again. And, fourth, this time he might have been drunk, but if he did it both as a sober man and a drunk one, it had to mean something, right?

You were struggling to distinguish the line between overthinking and legitimacy again.

You went to work that day, decided, the fifth reason simply being that you couldn’t get him out of your head, but the sixth reason missing. A truck landing on you would probably do the job, you thought. You didn’t mean it whole-heartedly, of course. But, apparently, the universe didn’t know about sarcasm and how it worked since, an hour after the thought passed through your head, it sent you a nice little gift and Spider-Man just so happened to get in a fight near the bar and an actual truck broke through the walls of the pub.

“I can’t fucking believe a truck landed right here. This is why I hate living in this city so much,” You scoffed, holding a towel wrapped around ice up to your bruised forehead as you observed the gigantic hole where the truck happily invited itself into. Peter barely reacted to your comment, too focused on disinfecting the wound in your arm. You pulled the makeshift ice bag away from your head, screwing your eyes shut. “I’m starting to get a headache from how cold this is, can I—”

Peter grabbed your hand and forced it back up to your forehead, shaking his head and focusing again on your arm. “No, trust me, it will reduce the swelling.”

“Should I be worried that you know so much about injuries?”

“I’m just trying to help.”

You chewed on your bottom lip, looking down at your lap. “I know. Thanks.” You smiled, recalling the urgency in his voice after he called you, saying he’d seen what’d happened on the news. He moved on to the gauze and began to bandage your arm, making sure his movements were delicate lest he hurt you more. “I met Spider-Man, though. I think I can finally die in peace.” You caught the way the corner of his mouth lifted upward.

“Really? Did he apologize for almost killing you?” Peter grumbled, accepting the scissors you offered him to cut the cotton fabric. You released a huff of air, admittedly offended and immediately going to defend the masked superhero.

“He didn’t almost kill me, it was the other guy. Bad guys, you know? They’re everywhere.” He huffed. “He checked up on me and offered to take me to the hospital, though. Pretty cool guy.”

“And why didn’t you say yes?”

You contemplated his question. “Stranger danger.” You shrugged. Peter laughed softly, muttering ‘fair enough’. “It also wasn’t necessary. I didn’t want to interfere with his, uh… superhero duties…”

Peter’s eyebrows furrowed. “Isn’t making sure you’re okay part of his duties?”

“I guess, but I’m fine, it’s no biggie.”

“Y/N, you could have died.”

“But look at me,” You patted your torso, then holding your arms wide open. “I didn’t. You’re making it sound much worse than it actually was.” Peter ran his hand through his hair, exhaling tiredly.

“Whatever,” He said, hesitance showing through his eyes. “I just think the guy should be more careful. His job is to protect the people, not to… hurt them.”

You scowled playfully, kicking him lightly. “Dude, fuck off, don’t talk shit about him like that. He’s Spider-Man. Give the poor guy a break.” He didn’t say anything, though, stirring your concern as you realized he seemed off since he first arrived. “Are you okay?” You inquired, frowning.

Peter glanced up at you before rubbing his face. “Yeah. It’s just been a long day.”

“Every day is a long day when it comes to you, isn’t it?” You joked lightly, nudging him a second time. “You helped me, now let me help you. What’s up?”

He moved his head from one side to another. “You’re always helping me.” He said almost as an apology, smiling sadly. You smirked back, standing up from your seat next to him to jump over the bar. You grasped an empty shot glass, checking no small debris had made its way into for the sake of Peter’s health (now, that’d be a hell of a lawsuit) before you slid it towards him.

“It’s my job as your bartender.”

He peered down at the glass and then up at you. Chuckling defeatedly, he took ahold of it, and you read it as ‘ah, the hell with it’ as you reached for the bottle of vodka. “I fucked up.” He whispered while you poured the liquid.

You screwed the cap closed, your eyebrows lifting high. “How come?”

Peter placed his head in his hands, nose crinkling. “I, um… talked to MJ?” And just like that, your mood took a fall as well, an inaudible ‘oh’ fleeting past your lips. “It’s the first time we talked in a long time.”

“...And?” You asked anxiously, folding your arms across your chest. Peter clutched onto the shot of vodka, watching the liquid dangerously reach for the edge of the glass after he slowly tipped it.

“Well, she’s trying to move on.” Surprise crossed your face. “And I was so distraught by it for the rest of the day that I really fucked up at work.”

“What were you thinking about?”

“That maybe I should move on, too.”

Your arms fell down to your sides. Maybe you really did hit your head too harshly, you thought, as your body started to feel heavy and you had to support yourself on the bar, for all this information you were hearing at once was colliding against you more vigorously than the pieces of wood which fled towards you earlier. Swallowing to bring moisture to your throat, you continued with the million-dollar question pestering you.

“What’s stopping you?”

You regretted uttering the words, something you seemed to be doing too much to suit your taste as of lately. However, Peter, although the question troubled him the same way it did you, clasped his hands together and you studied him whilst he went through every thought in his head and through every feeling, seeking an explanation he himself needed to know as well. 

“I’m not sure if I want to. But I know that I have to.” He finally breathed out. You leaned forward, not satisfied, needing to hear more and more even if it’d hurt, because nothing was more vexing than this feeling. 

“But you love her,” You said matter-of-factly. Silence. Your heart pounded rapidly enough you could sense it in your head. “Right?” You asked, embarrassed by the apparent desperation in your tone.

“Huh?” Peter snapped out his thoughts, blinking up at you.

“You love Mary Jane?”

He bit his lip as he went back inside the isolated room of his brain after only just sneaking his head out, evidently growing stressed. “It’s okay,” You brought him back out, sacrificing your curiosity as you gently smiled at him. “You don’t have to answer.”

Peter exhaled thankfully, downing his shot. “What’d you wanna tell me earlier, anyway?” He asked expectantly, his voice scratchy from the liquor. Oh. Yeah, right. Plans might have changed an hour ago, yet for some reason, you still wanted to come clean to Peter. However, right now, after hearing about Mary Jane, you forgot about the sixth reason and remembered why you never did in the first place after all this time.

“Do you… want to go get a drink?” You cursed your imagination for not working when it was necessary. Peter’s forehead creased with astonishment as if he never thought he’d hear that sentence again (in his defense, though, it’s exactly what you were planning to do).

“You finally wanna go and get a drink?”

“Hey, just be glad I’m feeling like it.”

It was an understatement to express you were feeling like it.

You continued searching for that sixth reason for the next weeks, even if the entire world knew that after you found it, you’d keep your lips sealed. Your friend put your friendship at risk when, during your September lunch with your boss, he couldn’t resist but telling her about your ‘secret crush’, saying he simply did it for a third opinion, but neither of you gained no new eye-opening advice for your boss dragged on about how Peter could be ‘the one’, which honestly worked in scaring you away from the topic. One day after, as you couldn’t fall asleep, you deliberated the reasons why you should forget about Peter.

One. He’s your friend. Your really good friend. You liked him being your friend. He’s funny, a nerd, and you could talk to him forever, even if it was merely absolute nonsense. Two. He’s a lot older than you. Not that eight years mattered that much, but it could. You were just entering your thirties whilst he was nearing his forties. Even if he’d made it clear kids weren’t his cup of tea, he could change his mind. You weren’t ready to settle down yet, despite most people reminding you the clock was ticking and you should start considering it. 

Three. The iconic Mary Jane Watson. Peter’s ex-wife whom he loved dearly. He might have not talked about her since he mentioned the idea of moving on, but you knew it was easier said than done. If you opened up, he could shut you down and reveal he’s still in love with MJ. Or worse, if you two did wind up dating, he could decide to leave you for her. Four. Your friend helped you with the fourth one. He had yet to tell you about why he’s bruised most of the time. It admittedly awakened the cynicism in you, for it could be something which had the potential of putting you at risk, or get you killed. Plus, if he did not want to give you an explanation, it meant he didn’t trust you enough. 

Five. You couldn’t lose him. You already almost did. Your absurd crush could be the last straw and get rid of him for good. If that was the case, then you’d do anything to muffle your heart singing its love songs when he crossed your mind or simply stood in front of you. You’d do it, even if it’d hurt.

Again, you couldn’t come up with a sixth reason. You established, then, that whichever reason you uncovered first, would be the final word. Your friend knew both a sixth reason for why you shouldn’t forget about Peter and why you should that, trying not to influence you any further, he kept to himself; it being clear in his head which one he hoped you’d find first.

It was another Friday night. You’d just returned home after wasting your money on some restaurant that definitely was not worth the price (goddamn New York) when your phone blared its ringtone in your pocket. Your heart clenched as you read the name and were about to answer immediately, until you stopped yourself. Counting eight seconds in your head, your thumb slid across the screen after you got to the last number and picked up the call. “Peter?” You were audibly and justifiably perplexed— why has he calling you at… you checked the time— ten P.M,? It may have not been the first one anymore, but phone calls were still a rare occurrence between you two.

“Hey! Are you busy?” His breathing was heavy, which made you wonder what he possibly could’ve been up to before he called you.

You opened your apartment’s door and blindly searched for the light switch. “No, I just got back home, actually.” You muttered, and then voiced a victorious exclamation when the room lit up in front of your eyes. “Why?”

He inhaled profoundly. “Cool. Great. Yeah.”

You guessed the barely distinguishable quiver in his voice could be defined as uneasiness as you sat down on your couch’s armrest, squinting.

“Is everything okay?”

“...Yeah. Yeah!” He repeated, firstly too quietly but now with faux confidence. “I needed to talk to you.”

Ah, hell. You had one important question and one only: when would you get a break from confrontation and those words? The last time you and Peter ‘needed to talk’ didn’t exactly go as smoothly. That in mind, your organs plummeted down into an expanding black hole in your stomach as you brought your fingers up to your lips. “I’m all ears, as always.” No, not really, but you didn’t exactly have any other choice.

“Okay, okay. Um, I, uh… what am I doing?”

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

“I wanna say sorry in advance.”

You tilted your head. “Why?”

You could solely hear what sounded like wind. “You’re not gonna believe me, so just, just look outside your window.”

The black hole having devoured the contents in your system, you raised to your feet and sped to the window, not capable of painting in your head a single picture of what in the heavens the man could be planning. You unlatched the lock and glided the window upward, your head gradually peering out. Your eyes went as big and round as the full moon glowing above you when you saw it.

You stared dumbfounded, close to pinching yourself to do a reality check. It had to be a dream. A strange dream. There was just no way. No fucking way, it was absolutely impossible. It was beyond the innumerable existing possibilities that Spider-Man looked back at you, stuck against the wall. Similar to someone’s lack of subtlety, it couldn’t have been any more evident. You didn’t even need a big brain or to think, to analyze deeply as if it were a riddle in a newspaper. Because it was just right there in front of you, plainly obvious and transforming your blood into ice: the phone he held up to his face.

“Hi…” Said the masked hero. And so did Peter through the phone call.

Your phone slipped from your grasp, yet you didn’t glance down at it. You continued to gawk at the man as he flicked his wrist and saved not only your phone, but simultaneously also your bank account from having to spend hundreds of dollars on a new one. You did not mutter a thanks, let out no relieved sigh when he gave it back to you. You just stared.

“I know I’m pretty cool to look at, but can you please say something?” He laughed nervously. Ignoring him, you took a step back and retreated your head, eyes close to falling out of their sockets. The phone in your shaky hands rang a second time and you answered without needing to look at the contact.

“H-Hello?”

“Hi.”

“Peter, what the fuck.”

“I’ve done this so many times but I still don’t know what to say.” He groaned to himself. You put your hand on top of your head, disbelieving.

“Get in.” You abruptly ended the call and plopped down on your couch, clutching your stomach, blinking furiously after black dots uncontrollably twirled in your vision. You heard a thump, the floor shaking slightly; however, you didn’t turn around to look at your guest, instead focusing on the wall in front of you. It wasn’t until the cushion beside you sank with the man’s weight that you blew up. “Holy shit.” You cupped your face with your hands, laughing out of pure shock. “Holy shit… holy shit!”

“Don’t freak out.”

“How am I not supposed to freak out?!”

Peter— Spider-Man shrugged, his white lenses wide. “I don’t… I don’t know.” He admitted.

You scanned his mask, the mask you’d become familiar with after seeing it so many times on TV and pictures. Somehow, however, regardless if you knew that mask and the person behind it, you couldn’t believe its authenticity. “Take off the mask.” He didn’t move or respond. “Please.” You begged.

You first saw the stubble. Then his lips. Then his crooked nose, and soon, those eyes. The whiskey eyes. Peter’s whiskey eyes. Your hands wound up on his broad shoulders, and for some reason you yourself couldn’t work out, it just dawned upon you how muscular they were. Your eyes came back to his face. Yeah, that’s Peter. That’s Peter B. Parker. Peter Parker was Spider-Man. All the revelations crashed against you quick, glass shattering in your head, everything suddenly making sense. The bruises. His constant fatigue. Everything.

“Peter… oh my God.”

“I know I-I kept this from you for a really long time, and I know it’s hard to fully digest it, but I did promise I was gonna tell you one day.” He said, the corner of his lips twitching. But you weren’t smiling— all the terrible fights you’d watched on the news throughout the years flashed in your head, going all the way back in time to when you first discovered Queens’ brand-new superhero as a seven-year-old.

You gasped, covering your mouth. “You’re telling me you’ve been at this since you were a fucking kid?”

Peter let his mask drop to the carpeted ground, his back sliding down the sofa’s backrest. “Since I was fifteen, yeah.”

“Peter…”

He grimaced at your concern. “I know it sounds sad, but it’s not… it’s not that bad.” He promised you, but you couldn’t take him seriously. You picked up your legs, sitting cross-legged and playing with your fingers as you continued to go through your racing questions.

“I used to look up to you when I was little.” You revealed quietly. Peter scoffed, grinning playfully. 

“What, you don’t anymore?”

You shook your head vigorously. “I do. Shit, I still do. I never thought I’d meet my childhood hero the way I did, though.”

“Sorry I’m just a sad, old man.”

You rolled your eyes, prodding him with your elbow. “You’re so much more than that.” All humor fled his expression and he shut his eyes, throwing his head back. 

“Am I? I constantly feel like I’m letting everyone down.” He huffed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he spoke. There it was, of course; he couldn’t talk about Spider-Man in a non-degrading way.

“You’re fucking Spider-Man!” You exclaimed, not accepting his utter bullshit, but he was willing to accept it as he peeked one eye open to look at you.

“I know, you always say that.”

You gave up in trying to change his mind and shifted closer to him, copying his position, unable to focus on your view of the boring, mundane ceiling; so you turned your head to see Peter getting lost in the white square. “You really didn’t have to tell me. This is a big secret.”

“It’s alright. I trust you.” You were glad he kept staring up as you felt the blood rush to your face.

“You do?” You asked, your chest warm, illuminated with glee. Peter glanced at you, nodding nonchalantly.

“I mean, yeah. I really do.”

You turned your face away from him, your muscles close to tearing from how big and proudly you grinned. “Spider-Man trusts me.” You hushed to yourself.

Peter breathed out, exasperated, his eyes fluttering closed again. “Stop.” He pleaded, laughing himself nonetheless. You bit your smile back, moving to sit straight in what your friend liked to call your ‘parent worried about their kid’ sitting position. 

“I guess I was right for worrying, huh?” You smiled sadly, taking in the severity of the situation. He poked his cheek with his tongue, shaking his head.

“I don’t want you to worry.” He sighed. You snorted.

“That’s dumb. You’re saying you’re always putting your life on the line? Of course I’m gonna worry.”

“Well, I worry about you, too.”

“How come?”

“If you’re close to me, then you’re putting your life on the line as well.”

You frowned, squeezing his arm to comfort him. “No, don’t say that.”

“Y/N, it’s the truth, though.” He fully sat up to turn toward you, his eyebrows furrowed. “It’s the worst thing about this. How many times have the people I care about gotten hurt? All ‘cause of me?”

You remained speechless. Moments later, he placed his hands flat against the sofa, preparing to stand up. “Y’know, I get it if you want to keep your distance from now on. I actually think it’d be a good—”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence.” You warned him, expression stern. “It’s stupid.”

“I almost got you killed that other time—”

“You didn’t almost get me fucking killed, for Christ’s sake!” 

Peter’s jaw tightened and he ran his hands through his hair, that strand of hair falling back in front of his forehead. “Whatever. You can’t be so sure, anyway.”

You pressed your lips together, knowing that he was right. You nervously placed your hand on top of his. “Can I hug you?” You asked like a child, giving him a half-smile. Peter looked down at your hand before his eyes moved to you.

“Sure. Y-Yeah.” 

You wrapped your arms around him, hugging him hard, your eyes squeezing shut. You felt him slowly embrace your waist, scared of  underestimating his strength. “I’m glad you told me. It must have been really hard.” You murmured against his chest. He chuckled humorlessly, his cheek on top of your head.

“You have no idea.”

“I’m gonna be here for you no matter what, okay? Whether it’s to vent or for some weird spider shit. I…” Love you. “You’re my friend, dude.”

After he left that night, you’d never been more conflicted about your feelings. It was a conundrum; a whole headache-inducing brain-teaser. You’d striked out the fourth reason why you should forget about Peter, the original five down to only four, but you still searched for that sixth— now fifth reason. As if it didn’t scramble your brain enough that it left you dazed and your thoughts impossible untangle, Peter unknowingly joined the game with the objective of rattling you up more. 

You noticed he didn’t disappear without notice ever again, and if he did, he didn’t leave you hanging, rather he sent you a text the day after with an entire clarification. Then, you caught onto the increasing meter of his touchiness: new and unexpected hugs, holding your damn hand— although that only happened twice, but still. Your overdramatic friend didn’t even need to point it out. 

One Saturday, he sat down in front of you, and before you could greet him, he surprised you. “One whiskey served over ice, please.” He smirked. You gaped at him, laughing, face astonished.

“What’s up with that?” He shrugged, grin never disappearing.

“I dunno, I guess I missed it.”

You never thought you’d continue hearing ‘one whiskey served over ice, please’ ever again. But you did.

This year, you did give him a present for Hanukkah and Christmas. A painting of one of your favorite photos of his that he showed you one day; a day you so vividly recalled, for he asked you to come with him to take pictures of an exhibition at a museum, and you accidentally broke a statue after you leaned against it in the attempt of doing an extravagant pose. To your surprise, he gave you one, too: a photo album with pictures from that day, and a message that read, ‘Merry Christmas!’, accompanied by a smiley face. In the blink of an eye, it was New Year’s Eve again, except that this time, you and Peter were talking.

You came out of the party’s bathroom, unable to tear your gaze away for the fourth time from Peter’s New Year’s Eve message, until you bumped into someone and had to force yourself to pocket your phone. You lazily swayed to the music, your vision blurring out, turning it harder to find your friend amidst the people. While your body was there, all your five senses working perfectly, feeling the heat from the enclosed space, the music vibrating in your chest, the smell of alcohol and smoke fixed in your nostrils, your mind lived in December 20th. December 20th being last Monday: a date that continued to echo in your head, the entirety of the day playing from the beginning until the pitch-black hour of midnight. It played, played, played relentlessly, exhaustingly. December 20th, it continued, a stupid date that your drunk self could not let go of.

You distinguished your friend in the crowd, comfort kissing your body and your tired legs guiding you to him, until you moved a person aside and saw the full view of his lower body grinding against a girl all over him. “Ah, fucking gross,” You groaned, pushing the unlucky same guy as you took a turn and headed for the glass door leading out to the balcony.

You firstly bumped into the door thinking it was open, but successfully slid it open and made it out into the winter weather, the city more awake than ever twenty minutes before the New Year. But you weren’t focusing on the future. No, you held onto last Monday, gripping it so tightly it hurt, hanging onto it as if you’d be nothing once it left. You stumbled towards the bench to your left, falling defeated on it. December 20th. You turned on your phone, squinting down at the screen, eyes struggling to focus through the brightness. Last week. You opened your contacts and without hesitation called a number, bringing your phone up to your ear, humming along to the beeping whilst you awaited for the person to pick up.

“Hello?” Peter said. You hung up, eyes wide. What the fuck were you doing? You didn’t answer your own question, though; you pressed the button to call again. 

“...Hi?” 

You ended the call a second time, growing frustrated with yourself. Having finally made up your mind, you called him one last time, jumping when he answered in what appeared a worldwide record-time. “Y/N, what the fuck—”

“Peter! You answered.”

There was a short silence. “I did.” He agreed, undeniably puzzled. You slumped against the wall, muffling your dopey laughter with the palm of your hand. You could hear… ah, wait. You could see, not hear, his face in your head with no problem: his furrowed brows and narrowed eyes.

“How are you?” You wanted to hear about his day. What had he eaten that day? What had crossed his mind? Hopefully you’d made an appearance at least once. That’d be nice.

“I’m good, thanks for asking.”  You hummed happily. “How drunk are you?” 

You shook your head, failing at rubbing the haziness out of your eyes. “Just a bit tipsy, maybe.”

“How much exactly is ‘a bit tipsy’ for you?”

“How many phone calls have we had?”

A question out of the blue, you knew, and you were expecting yet again the quietness as he processed your sudden need to quiz him about such insignificant rubbish. Well… did he think it was insignificant? So many questions bouncing off your skull all at once, worsening that awful migraine you could already feel coming… or was it the booze? No, who cares. All you cared about at the moment was his response, because knowing how many fucking phone calls you’ve had wasn’t that hard unless you didn’t care.

“What?” Really? He was going to make you repeat yourself? You dug the heel of the palm into your closed eye, white fireworks blowing up in the darkness behind your eyelids.

“Like, for these past two years. How many phone calls?”

“I… don’t know, maybe like three?”

Your face fell ever so slightly. “It’s six, actually.” You heard an unenthusiastic gasp.

“Wow, that’s great.”

“Do you remember the sixth one?”

“Isn’t this the sixth one?”

“This is the seventh one.”

“Okay, and why are you giving me a class about how many phone calls we’ve had?”

“Because you don’t remember the sixth one. I’m sure you don’t even remember the fifth one that well.”

He remained quiet for a moment. “It’s a blur.” Peter murmured.

“You were drunk…” You shut both eyes now, trying to dig through the fog to recall. “It was after you came to the bar…” Peter’s embarrassed stutters, similar to his inebriated ones, helped to uncover the memory further. 

“I-I was drunk, yeah,” He admitted, “just like you are right now.”

“And what did you say?”

He laughed uncomfortably. “I think you remember better than I do.”

You grinned. “You’re embarrassed.”

“Of course I’m embarrassed, Y/N.”

“Well, what about the sixth time you called me?”

“I seriously can’t remember a sixth time.”

“It wasn’t a failed booty call.”

He breathed in harshly. “Ah, I’m glad, I guess.”

A frown took over your features. “You really can’t remember?” You needed him to. He had to. Or else...  or else…

“I swear on my aunt.”

Your heart shattered, the sharp pieces prodding and hurting your chest. “So… so I guess you didn’t mean what you said?” You mumbled to yourself, realization sobering you more than you wanted it to.

Peter couldn’t help but begin to panic a bit at the mention of expressing something without his knowledge, or at least without his not drunk self’s knowledge. You immediately grew conscious of it for this time, the silence was different. “...What did I say?” He questioned, somewhat afraid. You didn’t speak. “Y/N? What did I say?” He pushed more urgently.

“It doesn’t matter,” You changed your mind. Calling was just another bad idea. You took your phone away from your ear for a second, jumping off from your seat, but your foot accidentally knocked over your drink. You stared down at the growing pool of alcohol staining the floor, seeping underneath your shoe. Blinking, you looked at your phone, at Peter’s name, and the numbers of the counter below it rising, marking each of your thumping heartbeat. 

The sixth reason. You needed it to stop you right now; an instruction to back out, the reassurance that it was still an option and it didn’t stop being one long ago. But as your finger came down to end the call for the better, your head screamed, freezing you.

Sixth. You were in love with Peter Parker.

You dropped back down on the bench, eyes glazed over. That was it. The sixth reason. Peter. The man nearing his forties and with the loveliest messed up nose. The customer you met last year and that continued to come to bar you worked at just to talk to you, his bartender. The guy you laughed with, sang with, slept with, became too close with, fell in love with. You put the phone back up to its right place, anxiously licking your lips. “Look, I’m gonna regret this. I know I am. But that hasn’t stopped me in the past, so why should it now, right?” You chuckled, your eyes wide. 

“I’m really concerned about that phone call, though.”

“Peter,” You glanced up at the sky, gulping. “I’m so glad I met you. I really am.”

“I-I’m glad I met you, too.”

You smiled momentarily. “Good. Working at the bar had become such a pain in the ass, and it still kinda is, but then you came that first time, and you called me ‘kid’ which annoyed me, but I was still hoping that maybe you’d stay, you know?”

“Why?”

“Because…” Your free hand came up to aid the other which trembled too much, grasping it tightly. “I don’t know, it was weird, I just couldn’t… I-I really wanted to get to know you. And it took some time but eventually we did talk— you said that stupid pick-up line and somehow it worked. I really need to higher my standards.”

“Hey, it was a great pick-up line.”

“It really wasn’t.”

“You gave me your number, didn’t you?”

The corner of your mouth twitched upward, and you laughed softly at yourself. “I did, I did. And I’m glad I did, even if you were just trying to get your mind off of MJ.” The truth stung as it glided out of your mouth.

Peter thought for a moment before continuing, “Maybe I just wanted a friend.” But it lacked sincerity, and you both could recognize that.

“But, Pete,” You bit your lip, looking down at the mess you’d left on the ground, the sole of your shoe now sticky. “Am I really just a friend?”

More silence. You breathed in, your chest moving up. “Be honest with me, please.” You begged, your voice hushed.

“Okay.”

Your stomach began to cramp up. “That time we hooked up,” You paused, the eerie shortage of noise on the other side of the line pushing you to go on. “Did it mean anything to you? Was it anything more than just a distraction?”

“I…” 

“Or what about that other time at my place? Why did nothing happen?”

“We were too wasted. It was wrong.”

“So you do remember.”

“I do.”

You placed your hand on top of the other, beginning to pace around. “Are you lying about that phone call, too?”

“What is it with this phone call you say? What happened?” He repeated, desperate and with a hint of irritation. You approached the railing, placing your elbows on the metal.

“Just… be honest with me.”

“I am, Y/N.”

You kneaded your forehead with your knuckles, shaking your head. “I can’t take it anymore. It’s been too long, and it’s so confusing. You’re so confusing. Or maybe I’m stupid, I don’t know. There’s… there’s this thing, I know you can feel it as well, and sometimes it’s as if there’s a chance that you might feel the same way I do, but then the next minute it’s as if not, a-and it’s so confusing.”

“Feel the same way you do? What do you mean?” He clearly knew what you meant. Your eyes traveled around the city, the cold and strong breeze nearly knocking your body backward. If he knew, why couldn’t he simply outright admit it? Why, all of a sudden, was it taking him so long?

“The phone call…”

He groaned. “Y/N, just please tell me why you’re so hung up on that phone call?”

“It was last week. You said you liked me.”

You said it. He heard it. He finally heard it, and you waited for anything like an idiot, yet it never came. You checked if you had accidentally hung up the call, but when you saw that it was still going, you sighed and decided to end it for once and for all. “We can be anything. Anything, okay? I can just be your bartender, you can be my client, we can be friends, w-we can be more. If it’s not supposed to be, then just as long as you’re there, I really won’t mind. Just, please… I’m begging you…” You whispered, not capable of discerning whether your body quivered from the winter or the fear brutally gnawing on you.

“Be honest.” 

Peter held his breath. “Y/N…” You waited, shoulders shaking, the stupid fucking silence clutching you by the neck as you waited. Just say it. Just say it—

“I’m still in love with MJ. I’m sorry.”

Oh.

“Oh.” You said aloud, voice cracking. “Wow.”

“I’m sorry—”

“No. Pete, no, I’m…Thank you. It’s just kinda hard to take it in, but I...” You tightened your jaw, your throat aching, swallowing back your pity. “I will. Thank you for being honest, though.”

“I really hope this doesn’t ruin things,” You could barely hear him: your brain too loud compared to his voice. You shook your head frantically, scrunching up your nose to hold back a sniffle.

“Never. I love you.” It wasn’t the way you wanted to say it. “You’re my friend. And I’m not going anywhere because you said I was stuck with you, remember?”

He laughed, a beam of light that almost mended your fractured heart. “Yeah, I haven’t forgotten about that.” You smiled brightly, wiping the tears you’d tried so hard to stop from running down your cheeks. You stood straight, but it was only for a mere second, for your arms plopped back down onto the railing from the lightheadedness which threatened to bring you down. 

“Okay,” You slurred, the bile rising up and burning your throat. “I’m gonna leave you. My friend will hate me if I miss the countdown…”

“Sure. Happy new year… be safe.”

You giggled, waving your hand at no one, really. “Don’t worry about me grandpa, I do this every year.” You doubted the idea that popped in your head, but voiced it anyway, “And if you need any help with MJ, I’m here. I can give you a discount at the bar for a date night!” The excitement you forced onto yourself was salt on the wound.

“I’m not sure if that’s a romantic idea, but thanks, I’ll think about it.” You both hesitated, waiting for something once again. But when you realized that it’d never arrive no matter how much time passed, you nodded quietly and unwrapped your arms from yourself, preparing to let go of that feeling you’d clutched onto for the longest time as well.

“I’ll see you around.” You finally said and hung up. You stared at your phone, grief by your side, holding your hand. Yet, to your surprise, a weak smile started to creep on you, relief slowly sewing your heart together. You told yourself that the heaviness in your heart didn’t matter, because at least you had Peter. At least he would still be there, at the bar, with his whiskey served over ice.

As you stumbled to your feet, ready to join your friend and drink away your bittersweet ache, your phone began to vibrate. Your brows twisted together and you looked down, sliding your thumb across the screen.

“Peter?”

[thefantasygirl3]

The fearsom five's christmas hijynx

Genre/warnings: Comedy, Slice of life.

Word count: 7 792

Summary: The other fearsome five are hiding in fear, scared over what Quackerjack might have gotten them for christmas. When he offers them their gifts, they get nervous and make up the excuse of christmas shopping to keep him distracted. Meanwhile they find ways to protect themselves from the dastardly gifts.

Notes: This one really came out later than I’d expect and became far longer than expected! But here it is and I hope it satisfies someone.

The city of st. Canard. It was covered in a white sheet of cold frozen flakes. The day of christmas was quickly approaching and the citizens were all running about in their holiday craze. Many were preparing their houses for the cheerful holiday, others were doing some last minute christmas shopping and some others were preparing traps so they could finally see santa in the feathers. Many active people out and about. 

In fact, even some of the villains were preparing for their christmas plans. 

Negaduck was walking through the dark alleyways, stealthily making his way towards the hideout of his evil team. The villain was scoffing to himself and making disgusted sounds as he stomped his way through. "BLEGH! Christmas junk all over the place! It makes me sick to my stomach seeing all the lights and colorful decorations and APPALLING GLITTER! Makes me want to burn everything to the ground" he complained to no one as he kept heading towards his hideout, making sure he moved undetected through the more populated areas before he finally reached the nest.

Entering the building, he kept talking out loud and started to laugh menacingly to himself. “But it doesn’t matter! All this meaningless malarkey is at least going to be a good distraction for my next heist! Mwua ha ha ha ha! Yes! They will be too busy ripping up presents and stuffing themselves full, no one will be around to stop me from robbing the bank! It's the… perfect… crime…" as Negaduck kept monologuing to himself, his steps started to slow to a stop as he reached the middle of the hideout. The duck immediately took note of the fact that the place was pretty much empty. There should be people here already, he had told them to be there early! "Damn ditzy dopes! I should be getting the chainsaw ready for them when they arrive!" he grumbled angrily as he rounded the corner, heading towards the workspace. 

As soon as he did so, something caught his eye. Out of one of the boxes, a violet petal was peeking out. It was quite obvious and it made Negaduck rub his temples in exasperation. Walking over towards the box, the duck reached out and grabbed the petal in his fingers, immediately plucking it harshly. And with that, Bushroot shot out of the box with a loud "YOUCH!" and landed on his butt, outside the box while rubbing his hair in pain. "Hello, vegetable. Mind telling me WHAT YOU WERE DOING HIDING IN A BOX!?!" Negaduck yelled at the plant scientist on the floor, tapping his foot as he awaited an answer. "N-Negaduck!” Bushroot yelped as he jolted up and crawled back, bumping into a big wooden panel that fell over and revealed Megavolt, curled up on the ground. "Negaduck?!" he exclaimed surprised as he shot up from his place on the floor. "Negaduck! Y-you're here early!" Liquidator added on as his head materialized out of the puddle underneath the fridge.

"Yes I am! And you'll be seeing an early grave if you don't tell me what you're doing!" the duck who's name was repeated earlier demanded as he grabbed a hold of Megavolt and pulled him off of the ground. "Don't you realize! It's christmas! HE might be here soon! We'll be doomed" the plug-head explained in fear as he was shaking on his knees and in the other's hand. "BHA! You idiots gave away our HIDEOUT!?!" the yellow clothed duck shouted in rage, launching Megavolt back into the mutant plant. "Which one of you gave it away?! It's probably that stupid clown! Still hiding from me like a coward" he growled in a low, very aggressive voice while looking around the room and punching a box or two. "No, boss! It's him were talking about! Quackerjack!" Liquidator tried to explain as he crawled out from under the fridge, cowardly moving closer to the other teammates. 

"What? You're afraid of that dope? You've gotta be kidding me" Negaduck started to laugh at the quivering trio, waving his hand dismissively at them before walking over to the work table. "Don't you understand!? Quackerjack makes toys! You give away toys on christmas! And we got a text before, saying he got some very special gifts for us!" Bushroot sputtered out as he ran behind the others and kept shaking in terror. "Yeah! And we have no idea what's in store! WE NEED TO PREPARE FOR HIS ASSAULT!!!" the rat panicked rather quickly as he waved his arms in the air. "He could be here any sec-" as the water man began his part of the explanation, the loud sound of a door being smashed open was heard, followed with a shout of "I'M HEEEERE~!". 

The team flew together into a big, fearful hug and shivered hard enough for the sound of their shuddering to be painfully clear. The boss of the team just shook his head and looked at them annoyed, but in slight amusement. From around the corner, Quackerjack emerged with the biggest grin on his face, two small gift boxes and one larger one. "Geez you guys! If you were all so cold, why didn't you wear a jacket or something? WOOH HA HA!" he laughed at them all and walked over to the table, placing the gifts on it while ignoring the angry duck's protests. "O-oh! You know! It's cooler without them!" Liquidator tried to act casual while pushing the other two aside, not wanting to embarrass himself more than necessary. "Anyways! … W-what'cha got there?" he then asked as he kept a distance between himself and the most likely very deadly gifts. 

"OH! You mean your awesome christmas presents?! Yeah! That's what I got!" the jester told his friend cheerfully as he bounced from foot to foot, jingling his bells about with the bouncing of his hat. "Oh wow! Quacks! Th-that's… so nice of you! C-can't wait for tomorrow!" Bushroot said with a very nervous laugh, rubbing his hands together in some sort of attempt to keep himself calm and away from running out of the room immediately. 

"AAAAAW! But I can't wait for TOMORROW! Can't you open them now?! I hear that some countries celebrate christmas eve" Quackerjack said in his usual ever-changing tone, going from a whine to a more smug sounding voice. "Yeah. Go ahead! Why don't we see what you all got?" Negaduck said in his fake nice voice, curling his finger around the present ribbon. "Oh! Um… that sounds… really nice! B-but… but… um…" now the man was at a loss of words, trying to think of an excuse to not be made into a duck salad. "W-well… we… don't have a gift for you yet! How can we open your… probably great gifts when we don't have anything to give you?" Megavolt chimed in as he ran over to their friend and put an arm around him, trying his very best to convince him that they really did want to open it and not rather be on the other side of the earth.

"Oh. No no no! It's ok! I'd much rather just get the gift of seeing someone finally smile when I give them something! If the kids won't appreciate my toys, at least you guys can enjoy my gifts!" The toymaker said in a rather happy voice, seemingly just out for his teammates' appreciation. This just made the electric man start to sweat and become very flustered, stuttering out an incoherent excuse. Quackerjack just stared at him in pure excitement. 

"Aaaaah… I guess the cat's out of the bag. We couldn't keep it secret for long" Liquidator sighed disappointed as he moved over to his two buddies, putting a hand on each of their shoulders and giving them a wink each. "Wh-what? What secret? Are you guys keeping something from me?!" The now curious jester asked as he looked at the three, getting himself worked up about what this thing could possibly be. "You see, Quacks, we got a great deal on a collective gift we wanted to give you tomorrow, at the mall. But if you want to do the gift giving today, we have no other choice but to pay for the express shipping!" the previous business man said in his usual "trying to sell you something" way, putting his hands on the other's shoulders. "Oh please" the yellow suited villain groaned and rubbed his beak, unable to believe they thought this ridiculous lie would work.

"REALLY?! Oh goodie! I'm sorry I made you spoil it, but I'm so curious now! Can we go immediately?". Of course, when the lie was told to the bluntest shovel in the cutlery drawer, then it wasn't as unbelievable. "Yeah! Of course we can! It will let us do some last minute christmas shopping!" Bushroot said with a grin, putting his vine arm around the oblivious toymaker and leading him outside, the rat and dog following close after them. "HEY! WHERE DO YOU FOOLS THINK YOU'RE GOING?! WE HAVE A HEIST TO PLAN!!!" the ever angry Negaduck screamed after his four subordinates, waving his arms around as he ran after them, only to be buried under a big pile of snow as soon as he walked outside.

Walking through the mall, Quackerjack was following his friends while doing cartwheels and handstands. "Oh boy, oh boy! I just love surprises! Can't we walk faster?!" he giggled as he pushed himself off the ground and landed right back on his feet. "Um… Liquidator? Do we even have a surprise? Please tell me we do! I don't wanna become toy stuffing!" Megavolt was still panicking and sparking while he grabbed a hold of the dripping dog, shaking him around before getting smacked in the face with a frying pan made out of water. "Not to fear, my friends! I have a deal prepared for our cooky friend to keep him busy and with satisfaction 100% guaranteed!" he told the two beside him before he leaned in and started whispering his idea to them.

As they walked around the corner, the team stopped their purple and red friend, to his surprise. "OH! Are we here now?!" he asked them as he jumped up and down, clapping his hands in excitement. "My friend! Are you feeling bored during christmas eve? Feeling the need for some fun? Try… The ARCADE!" Liquidator announced as he moved out of the way, gesturing towards the huge paradise of video games. As soon as Quackerjack saw it, his smile immediately dropped and his face morphed into anger. "THE ARCADE!?! Are you kidding me?! Video games are mindless dribble! They are destroying the toy industry! And you're saying my gift is playing some GAMES at the ARCADE?!" he started yelling at the three while pulling his hat down in rage and frustration. 

"Oh of course not! We know that you hate this type of stuff! Which is why we brought you here!" Bushroot told the angry, jingling jester while he was throwing a temper tantrum. The duck then looked confused about that response, not sure how that made any sort of sense. "Don't tell me you didn't bring any toys with you! How were you planning to wreck the place without them?" Megavolt asked with a smug sounding voice, raising his eyebrows at him and smirking like a proud bastard. Quackerjack looked a little confused still for a moment until he connected the dots, getting a huge, eager grin on his beak. He quickly pulled out his wind up teeth and ran over towards the other guys, giving them a big hug before letting them go and saying "Oh thank you guys! This is such a wonderful gift! I'll be a couple of hours! It's PLAYTIME!!!". Then he was off to cause chaos.

The three looked as he ran off, waving and smiling while wishing him a merry christmas until he was out of view. They then let out a big sigh and sank down on the floor, as if melting from the release of tension. "Ok. So! Now that he's distracted and happy, we can finally get something ready for the assault" Megavolt sighed and moved his glance over towards Liquidator. "By the way, couldn't he just come here and destroy the place himself?" he then asked as they all had the moment to just collect themselves and come back to their senses. "Of course, but he doesn't need to know that" the dog muttered as he got up from his little puddle and helped clean off some dust from bushroot, who spoke up soon thereafter. "Alright. Here is the idea. We will all need to find a way to prevent these toys from attacking us! They will most likely be very advanced or dangerous! So we will need the best of the best stuff to stop them!".

"Yes! And I know exactly what I'll get for this!" the rat proclaimed confidently as he walked to the front of the group, pointing towards a map of the shopping center. "I will be going over to the appliance department and find the best CPU disruptor a man can buy!" he said confidently and put his hands on his hips in a matching demeanor. Bushroot walked over and took a glance of the map, extending his arm and pointing at the only plant store in the mall. "I'll go and see if I can find a good plant that I can mutate". "Well then, I guess I will have to… hmm… I guess going to the pet store to find some vicious fish could be of help" Liquidator pointed at the pet store and left a big water droplet to run down the display. "Alright! We got a plan!" The sparking man exclaimed as he put his hand up, then pointed towards the rest of the mall and shouted "Now GO GO GO!". And with that, they scatter.

The plant scientist was glancing around in the gardening shop, browsing through the different flowers and plants. He deeply enjoyed all of the greenery inside the store. In particular, he was taken aback by a beautiful orchid, making a double take before taking a stop beside the purple seductress. “Why hello there, you gorgeous flora. Ah~ If only my hands weren't tied, i'd buy you in a heartbeat” he sighed and gently rubbed it's petals in a very flirty manner.

As Bushroot was having this rather intimate moment, an old duck was clearing his throat behind him, scaring the ever living crap out of him. "Excuse me, sir. I couldn't help but notice that you are a plant lover, just like myself. Are you looking for something specific?" he asked the now shaking plant man, correcting his glasses that were sliding down his beak.

"Oh! Yes! I'm looking for something… oh wow! Who is that?!" Bushroot interrupted himself as he saw this gorgeous tall blossom, right behind the old florist. "Ah! You mean ms. Antirrhinum! Or more commonly known, the snapdragon flower. She is a beauty, isn't she?" He perked up a bit as the green duck was gawking over this big red cute belle. "Ms? So she's single?" Bushroot sighed as he circled the snapdragon and was practically drooling all over it. "Ah… ha ha ha! As single as they get, I suppose" the florist chuckled before heading over and putting a hand on his shoulder. "Now, what was it that you needed?".

"Huh? Oh! Yes! Sorry! I… I need something more…" as the scientist got back on task, he leaned in towards the other duck, scanning the shop quickly before whispering "... vicious". The florist looked up at him with a rather confused look, seeming shocked about the request. "... oh! You meant something exotic, right! I have many fierce ladies in this store!" He laughed softly at him as he started wandering past him towards the exotic area of the store. "I'm sure we can find a gal to suit your needs!" He added on as he motioned towards the countless colorful plants.

"What? No! No I mean- like literally! Do you have a plant that could, completely theoretically, rip a robotic teddy bear with built in flamethrowers limb for limb? Or chew a killer fairy with a big chainsaw to bits?" Bushroot interrupted him as he tried to explain himself, without giving out too much information about his plan. Clearly doing well! The duck looked over at him and just stared for a few seconds, his face scrunching up into a nervous frown. "Well… we technically aren't allowed to have any sort of plants like that" he told him while starting to roll his fingers and sweat slightly, wiping it off as soon as he felt it roll down his forehead. "Please! You've got to have something even slightly… wait… technically?" the plant mutant then pointed out as he realized the strange wording. As he said that, the florist carefully glanced around the room, as if making sure no one else was in there at that very moment. "I might have someone you would like to meet… if you can keep a secret, that is" he whispered to Bushroot, who was quick to perk up and say "Oh of course. I am far from a narc, sir".

The duck looked around still as he approached a shelf full of seeds, making sure the coast was clear as he started pushing it out off the way to reveal a tough looking door. He quietly unlocked it and pulled his customer inside. As the villain was pulled into the dimly lit room, he was greeted with a bunch of very ravenous looking carnivorous plants. "Oh my goodness! A venus flytrap! Yellow pitcher plant! Cobra lily! AH, a Butterworth!" the awestruck scientist started ogling all the exotic, dangerous, man-eating plant life as he ran around the room like an excited kid on… well, christmas. "Yes. They aren't very legal to sell, but I can tell you are a lover of all plants, just like myself. But enough delaying! Let me introduce you to my precious Monica" the florist told the man, who was still adoring all the big scary vegetation, before walking over towards a large cup shaped flower with a big leaf over it's red, spiked rim. Bushroot gave away a gasp as he saw said plant and ran over to get a better look of it, gushing out "Is that… a tropical pitcher plant?! Oh wow, she's such a beauty! I'll take her! How much does $10 000 sound?! I can get you that if it means I can take such a sweet doll home with me~". He looked shocked at him, not able to believe the amazing offer given. He was practically seeing dollar bills as he reached his hand out and shook the other's hand in an immediate agreement. "Of course, sir! You got a deal! Let me write you down on a payment plan!" he told him as the plant man was still drooling over this beauty of a flower.

Inside the electrical appliance store, the rat was pushing a cart along and looking around at the boring SD cards and other computer parts that would be of no help to him when being run over by a life-sized toy train. Anxiety was starting to settle in on him as he scanned over the stuffed shelves, unable to focus on finding the disruptor he oh so needed when the constant thought of himself being tortured by adorable, crazed murder toys kept popping up in his mind. His eyes darted around, trying his very best to stay focused on finding the life-saving christmas miracle.

"Hello sir! How can I help you?" a nasally voice spoke up suddenly, earning a surprised scream from Megavolt who jumped back into a defensive position, doing some fake karate before he saw the nerdy looking teenage girl. Judging by her lanyard, he could tell she worked there. Giving her an annoyed grumble, he just grabbed ahold of his cart once more and muttered "I know more than YOU". The girl just watched him walk by and frowned a little bit, earning another annoyed comment from the rodent of "Stupid kids. Probably don't even realize what a genius they are undermining". 

"Dude! Are you that big, dangerous, evil supervillain, Megavolt?" another teen with long blond hair covering his face asked in a funky way, sounding like some sort of surfer-dude. Caught of guard, Megavolt only looked around in confusion, not sure whether he should confirm or deny that question. Unsure, he answered with a short and simple "... Yes?", wondering if he'd get thrown out or something. "Oh great! That means you must be smart!" the now relieved boy sighed as he grabbed a hold of the rat man and pulled him along towards the customer service counter. "W-Wait! Yes I am, but what do you need my intellect for?!" he asked baffled as he was dragged along towards a rather angry looking woman, standing beside a toaster that stood on the counter. 

"Well this lady just came in, yelling about how her toaster isn't toasting properly. I was wondering if you would be able to find the problem, dude" the teen asked as he looked at him in desperation, seemingly somewhat lost and frightened by the peeved of lady staring daggers at the two of them. Megavolt wasn't sure how he had gotten himself into this mess, so he just gave the boy a baffled raise of his eyebrow. He was about to say something to him, until the lady cut him off sharply. "Listen! I don't have time for this! I want my toaster fixed YESTERDAY! It doesn't even TOAST! It barely warms my bread to room temperature! I have to wait an hour for warm bread!" she complained to him, completely ignoring the employee that was supposed to help her. The man groaned in annoyance, not wanting to deal with this when he was meer hours away from his childish DOOM! "Ma'am. I truly and  genuinely do not care about your-" before he could explain how much her technical issue didn't matter to him, she snapped at him once more. "Why are you here anyways?! I asked for a MA-NA-GER! Not some whacky, dirty, off-his-rockers criminal! I want to speak with the manager right now so he can call the police to arrest that villain and so HE can be fired!" she started demanding to whichever one of them that would oblige her, practically frothing at the mouth as she was also hitting the counter. 

Alright. That's it. He was ticked. This was now personal.

"... How about we just fix that toaster right up for you instead. And let me do it for free, since you asked sooooo nicely!" Megavolt said through gritted teeth, sounding very condescending to her while he was grabbing her toaster and taking it to a table that was already full of stuff, like paperwork and small tech parts. Shoving it all off the table, he slammed the toaster down and started disassembling it right away, grabbing a few parts around him to add into this household appliance. The woman gave a smug smile at the villain, who was now doing as she had demanded, meanwhile the employee looked on in surprise and awe as he was skillfully fixing this thing like it was nothing. After a few moments of tinkering, the toaster was reassembled once again and Megavolt walked over to the service counter, placing it down in front of the self-satisfied customer. "Now, let's test it out, shall we?" he suggested with a smarmy grin as he pulled out a piece of toast he had, for totally logical reasons, and put it into the toaster. Only a few seconds after the rat had started it, smoke started to seep out of the two openings on the top. And only a moment after that, flames erupted in two ginormous streams of fire. This made the woman start to scream and hurriedly scurry away out of the store. "I hope you like your bread like your coffee! HAHAHA!" Megavolt laughed and held his stomach as the fire started to calm down a bit, letting two burnt pieces of toast pop up with a delightful PING. 

"Whoa… that was awesome!" the nerdy girl from before shouted out astonished as she watched the customer bump into people on her way out of the shopping center. "Yeah, dude! She's been bothering us with complaints and threats to fire us all for months! Thanks for getting rid of her!" the dopey boy said as he grabbed a hold of the villain's hand and shook it harshly, making him get red in the face and chuckle from the flattery. "Well… it is what we criminals do best!" he admitted and rubbed his neck. The girl walked over to the two and joined in in the hand shaking, crossing his arms over each other. "If there is anything we can do to thank you, you just let us know!" she offered him. This made him light up a bit, realizing that this might work perfectly in his favor. "Actually… I am looking for something rather hard to come by. If you happen to have a CPU disruptor anywhere in the store, I would be more than happy to take it off your hands!". "Well… we do have some more high-tech stuff in the back, but we aren't supposed to sell that stuff" the teen said as he looked back towards the backdoor, considering if it would be a good idea or not. "Well you're not selling it if you just give it to me for the favor, now are you?" Megavolt tried to explain to the employees, giving them a "Hmm?" and wiggle of his eyebrows. The two looked at each other, thought about it for a moment, then said in unison "That makes sense!" as they both then raced to the backdoor to get his present. Maybe this christmas wouldn't turn out so horrible after all!

Man. The pet store really wasn't anything to write home about. Liquidator couldn't believe how boring and unappealing it was. More like appalling. It was a wonder they even sold a simple little goldfish with such an unmarketable image. He almost felt like turning right around and head straight out to accept his doom. But he decided against it and just sucked it up, heading inside and looking around at the animals. The dog decided that he didn't have time to wander around aimlessly and try to find a fish that would be dangerous enough, so he headed up to the cash register to find someone who could help him. "Excuse me, ma'am! I require your assistance to find a most exotic, threatening pet that I could adopt!" he spoke up in his usual, classy salesman tone, trying to get the attention of the bored looking lady by the register. "Yeah, Yeah. Sure. Brittney can take care of you. BRITTNEY! A CUSTOMER NEEDS HELP!" she yelled towards the backdoor, prompting a pretty, tall lady to walk out and say "Ok. I'm on it" in a valley girl accent while chewing some gum.

"... Now I see the selling point" liquidator muttered under his nonexistent breath, scanning the employee as she walked over to him and greeted him. "Hiya. So what kind of pet are you looking for, sir?. "Well I'm glad you asked! Because what I am looking for is none other than a predator of the aquatiq variety!" he told the pet shop worker as he moved over to her, extending his body to be on her left, as well as her right. But she didn't seem to care at all, blowing a bubble with her gum as she just said "yeah, sure" and started leading him towards the aquarium section. As she was walking along with him, another customer walked up beside them and tapped her on the shoulder. "Excuse me! But I was wondering about this hamster. I already own a male hamster, will it be ok to have another in the same cage?" the young man asked as he pointed towards a couple of hamster cages. She just looked over at him confused, chewing her gum and grumbling a nonchalant "uuuh… I don't know" before turning to walk away again. She just left Liquidator stunned as he watched her walk away, not giving a single care about the customer. Like, yeah, he didn't care about his customers when he sold water, but you need to at least pretend to care or have a captivating and appealing attitude so you can make more sales. Groaning, he decided to pick up the ball she had just dropped. "Hello sir! Sorry about the laziness of the staff! But let me tell you that no! It is not a good idea to put two male hamsters in the same cage. BUT! It is very rewarding to take care of more than one hamster, as it is stated by professionals that it helps with restlessness! So I'd suggest you buy a second cage for the hamster you want! There are a few high quality ones over there across from the hamsters!" he informed the surprised man, who seemed to be eating up everything he was told, just nodding and saying "Oh! Ok!" before walking off. "Remember! The more it costs, the better it is!" he added on before leaving to find the useless employee again.

As Liquidator found the clueless girl again, she had once again been stopped by another customer, a little girl who had a puppy following close after her. "Excuse me miss. I don't know what food I should give Jasper. What do you think I should buy?" she asked in a sugary sweet voice, making the lady just glance down at her and blow another bubble with her gum. "I dunno. Dog food?" she just huffed before continuing to leave another customer behind. Facepalming himself, Liquidator quickly moves over and taps the girl on her shoulder. "Hi there, little lady! Ignore that big unhelpful lady! She doesn't know anything! If you are looking for good dog food, you should buy the ones with the big "approved" seal on it! If it has that, it means it will be good for him!" the villain said in an overly friendly way as he pointed towards the pet food section. The little girl smiled brightly and started pulling at her dog's leash, running off to find that good quality food.

This kept happening as he was attempting to keep up with the employee, person wants help buying stuff, lady blows them off, Liquidator has to take over and use his sales pitches to make a good sale.

"What is the best toy for my cat?"

"It will love the bell and feather on a string! The stick is made to not snap!"

"Are these vitamins good for my dog?"

"That's a no go! Four out of five specialists would suggest these higher quality vitamins with loads more vitamins in it for your pet!"

"My bird won't stop freaking out!"

"Yikes! Sounds like it is time to expand her cage! Trust me, bigger cage means less panic from your bird!"

After a few more quick sales, the man was tilting against a few aquariums and panting lightly, feeling exhausted from all the talking and pitching. It was amazing that this place was not burned to the ground by the sheer laziness of the staff. He was probably the only help anyone had ever gotten at this crappy store. The employee finally stopped in front of a tank of fish, motioning towards the clownfish swimming inside. This made Liquidator fall silent and just stare at her with a blank gaze. "... So how many fishes did you want?" she asked in a totally clueless voice, just staring back at him. "THIS ISN'T A PREDATOR!!!" he yelled in her face and started boiling from the immeasurable amount of rage this brought him. The employee just looked at him, asking "what's a predator?" cluelessly. The two just stared for a quiet second before the lady just takes out a ring of keys and throws them into Liquidators body. "Here. I gotta leave early today, so please lock up for me" she said dismissively as she just walked towards the front of the store to leave.

He just looked at her shocked as she, just like every other customer, left him alone and confused. Did she really mistake him for someone who worked there because he did her work better than her? 

…

Well at least he didn't have to pay for what he needed anymore.

After a few hours in the mall, the four villains were walking home together, with the jester laughing giddily after his little bit of complete chaos. "Hoohoohehehee! I haven't had this much fun in a while! This is the best christmas yet!" he cheered as he was bouncin in front the trio that were carrying their wrapped presents. He then moved to put an arm around Megavolt, who gave him a nervous grin and moved the bag with the gift box in to carry it with one hand. The air around them, despite the expectation of impending doom, was actually rather cheerful. It was mostly due to the unrestrained joy of Quackerjack, who was just radiating christmas cheer with his excited laughter and singing. "Really? Christmas carols? I thought you were above that?" the rat poked at him with his elbow, snickering as he teased the one walking beside him. "Eh, shut up, Sparky! Can't a man feel the christmas spirit for one?" he snapped back while trying to hold back a happy giggle, wanting to appear somewhat tough. Liquidator and Bushroot looked at each other and gave an amused smile.

And soon enough, they arrive at the hideout. They all strolled inside and placed down their gift boxes under a christmas tree disguise that they had for the heist that was planned for the evening after. It was close enough to a regular tree, so why not? This made the colorful duck jump around even more and squeal excitedly. He was tapping his feet restlessly as he looked over towards his own gifts, wanting so bad to give them to his friends already. This did not go unnoticed, as Bushroot watched his eyes stare longingly in the direction of his own christmas gifts, feeling that nervousness return as he remembered why they even got the "gifts" to begin with. Looking over at the other two, they both took notice of his questioning look and gave a nod, indicating that they were ready for the chaos. "Hey… Quacks. Didn't you have something for us?" he asked with a forced grin, trying his best to not ruin the jester's joy. 

Quackerjack gasped in excitement, not even answering the plant before he rushed off towards the work table to grab the gifts. Bushroot moved over to the others and they all formed a huddle. "Alright! Get ready for the onslaught! Keep close to the tree and hold the box at a distance!" Liquidator whispered to his fellow villains, earning a determined nod from them both. "Alright! Get ready!" the cheery voice of their four team member yelle, causing the huddle to break and the three of them stand innocently beside each other. 

Quackerjack walked over, presenting the biggest present first. Everyone prayed that they wouldn't be the one to recieve the gift. "Bushroot! This one is for you!". Curses. That's just his luck. But still, the plant duck took a deep breath and accepted the rather heavy box, getting even more scared when holding the potential "pandora's box" in his hands. Swallowing harshly, he reached out and pulled the ribbon off, causing the other two to immediately hide behind whatever was the closest. He recoiled back away from the box, expecting to be jumped as soon as that lid was lifted. 

But… nothing happened. That almost shocked him more than anything. So he curiously peeked inside and saw… a bag… a bag of fertilizer. It felt almost disappointing to get something so dull, instead of immeadiate death. But lifting the bag out of the box, he got a better look at it and realized something. "Wait a second! This is-!". "That's right! I got this fertilizer from a lab with some real knuckleheads for scientists working there! It's not even released to the public yet! And now it never will be! It's all yours!" the jester explained as he was hovering really close the the stunned man.

The fertilizer… it was HIS fertilizer! His project that he thought was lost after… the incident that made him into his mutant self. "Wow… wait, knucklehead scientists?" he then questioned, recognizing the description as his old labmates. "Oh yeah! Those two! I took care of them, don't worry! They seemed to really like throwing that football around! So I thought it'd be fun to try and be the ball for a change!" Quackerjack laughed amused as he seemed rather proud of himself. Bushroot just stared at him, tears starting to well up in his eyes before he hugged tightly onto the fertilizer and started wailing like a baby. "WAAAAAAH! THANK YOU! THIS IS THE BEST CHRISTMAS I'VE EVER HAAAAAAD!!!" he cried out and sat down on the floor with his precious bag.

Quackerjack looked shocked for a short moment before looking genuinely happy about the over emotional reaction he got. "Heeheehee… glad you like it" he muttered before grabbing the next box and walking over to Megavolt, who had come out of hiding and was just staring in baffled surprise. His gawking was interrupted as there was a rather small gift box shoved into his face. Accepting it without a word, he just looked back at Liquidator unsure, as if asking if it was safe. He just gave the rat a shrug and looked equally puzzled. 

Megavolt just sighed and decided to go for it, ripping off the ribbon and opening the box. Inside was a USB stick, a normal old USB stick. He picked it up and held it up to the duck. "Ok… I'll bite. What is this?". Quackerjack looked rather smug as he leaned into his face and explained "Well, Sparky. This USB contains countless of blueprints from an inventor, who works for none other than S.H.U.S.H. You don't realize how surprisingly easy it was to get! I bet she doesn't even realize it's gone!". The rat's eyes widened as he heard that. A USB… with S.H.U.S.H level blueprints?! There had got to be some really advanced stuff in that tiny little stick! All the knowledge he could ever desire! He even forgot to yell at the duck for calling him Sparky.

All he could do was sputter random sounds while trying to find any sort of words to say. Megavolt ended up just pulling Quackerjack into a hug and spinning around in a moment of bliss, rambling "ohmygodthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!". The duck gained a bright blush to his cheeks as he was held in the air by his friend, just allowing it to happen as this was just the type of reaction he had hoped for. Didn't expect it at all, but he had hoped. "Oh geez! Sparky! Be cool, pal! You're embarrassing me!" he laughed in a flustered manner, trying to hide how much he's enjoying the appreciation and failing immensely. 

He managed to get loose after a minute or so and took the last, tiny present and started making his way over to Liquidator. The dog looked very sceptical, as suppose to the previous expression of fear. "So… seems you really made a great sale to those two, huh?" he commented to the clown, who didn't say anything back and just wiggled his eyebrows at him. "... Well they are nerds, they get all excited over their… nerdy interests. But I'm a customer that isn't easily impressed. So don't expect any hugs or tears" he then said in a defensive tone and crossed his arms. Quackerjack only grinned wider and held out the present to him, inching it closer and closer to his face while letting out a quiet squeak. 

The water man just sighed and snatched the gift out of his hands, starting to unwrap it so he could just get it over with. And inside was just a piece of paper. That was it. His face dropped and he looked up at the duck. But he just kept grinning and darted his eyes between Liquidator and the paper. Rolling his eyes, Liquidator just picked it up and read over it. As he did, he realized it was a receipt from the local grocery store. "St. Canard convenience store. Wow! You really went above and beyond. Look at all that Sparkling Crystal Pure Flud Water you purcha- w… WAIT WHAT?!" he had to do a double take as he read over the receipt, not sure he read that right. But it was right there, in black and white, over $10 000 worth of his own brand of water.

"I know you better than you think" Quackerjack giggled smugly as he bounced over towards the leaking fridge and threw it open, revealing it to be filled to the brim with water bottles. Liquidator just stared in awe and with his jaw laying in the floor. Quacks picked it back up as he put an arm around his shoulder. "I know that you do love a good sale. But what do you like better? MAKING a good sale, of course! So what better christmas present for THE liquidator than to steal money from the bank and buy every last one of your water with it? That way, the ENTIRE CITY OF ST. CANARD has bought your stuff!" he informed the shocked man that he was hanging on while staring at his face, awaiting to see a reaction from him. 

He just stared at all of his bottled water, processing everything his teammate just told him. That was probably the only thing he could have ever wished for, success for his company. A singular tear fell from his eye, though it could have just been more water, and gave away a small, happy smile. "Wow… thank you, man" he just muttered.

Quackerjack let out a happy laugh as he started jumping around his friends with so much excitement. "Ho ho ho ha haa! I knew it! I knew you'd like my presents! Now, let's check what's inside yours!" he cheered curiously as he then pranced over to the other's presents under the fake tree. "Wait" Liquidator muttered surprised. "Our… presents?!" Megavolt gulped and started sweating, realizing what a mistake they had made with their assumption. "W-WAIT! Quacks! Don't open them!" Bushroot yelled as he started running over towards the duck to stop him. But it was too late as they got to watch him suddenly get shot with a laser that sent a current of electricity through his body. They then got to witness him being attacked by a dozen piranha before he was grabbed by the big pitcher plant that tried to eat him whole. 

The three, after watching this while grimacing and cringing, then proceeded to run over and save him from any further pain. It took a few minutes, but they got him free from the fish and plant, sitting him down on the floor with a blanket and a cup of hot chocolate. "...Not to be rude, since I got such a nice present earlier today, but you guys aren't the best gift givers, are ya?" Quacks asked the others with an awkward grin, trying to not ruin the happy mood he had achieved earlier. But they just gave him an embarrassed look and rubbed their necks, feeling equally as awkward as him. "Listen… We're sorry about all that. We didn't mean to cause you so much pain" Bushroot explained as he sat down beside him and put a hand on his shoulder. "We didn't expect your presents to be… actually really really nice. We thought you'd get us one of your demented toys that would try to kill us!" Megavolt told him as he also plonked himself down on the floor on his other side, rolling his fingers nervously. Liquidator didn't say anything, he just sat himself down and looked at him somewhat apologetically. 

"Waitwaitwait! Are you telling me that you expected me to basically prank you by giving you deadly toys that would rip you to shreds?" the clown asked in surprise as he looked between all of the Fearsome Four with a confused expression on his face. The three just looked away from him and tried to find some sort of justification. But they just felt kinda bad about how they had been acting during the day when the gifts they were given ended up being really good and considerate. What justification could they have that didn't ruin the mood further?

As the jester kept darting his eyes between everyone, his eyes started to water and he began sniffing softly. Bushroot took notice and quickly tried to console him. "H-hey now! W-w-we didn't mean anything by-". Before he could finish his sentence, Quackerjack stretched his arms out and embraced all of his team with a tearful sob. "YOU GUYS! IT'S SO SWEET OF YOU TO THINK I COULD SOMETHING SO CRULE AND EVIL ON CHRIIIIIIIISTMAAAAAAS!!!" he wailed while crushing the three grown men in his colorful arms. 

They all looked down at him pained as their chests were caving in from the force of the love they were given. But they smiled anyways and chuckled at the silly duck. "Geez, Quackers! I never thought any of us would ever have an actually good christmas, let alone us having one together! But you did it! You gave us a truly merry christmas!" Megavolt sighed happily and reached a hand out to rub the crying man's jangling head. It made him giggle through his tears and let go of them all, just grinning thankfully at the lot.

"GET THESE LITTLE MONSTERS AWAY FROM ME!!!" Negaduck yelled as he ran past his team, being pursued by a group of rather scary looking toys as he's chased out of the hide out. Quackerjack just looked confused as they disappeared out the door. "Weird… I thought he'd love a bit of violence!" he said, seemingly surprised by the turn of events. The other guys just looked at each other quietly for a second, before bursting out in laughter at the brief scene. That years christmas turned from wonderful to fantastic.

[rogueariadne]

To Have A Villain’s Quirk

SEVENTEEN: JEALOUS

Song: White Dress - Parachute

"After fifteen minutes to pick teammates and talk strategy, twelve cavalry teams are preparing to go head-to-head!" Mic's voice rang through the stadium as the timer went off, catching Kaida's attention as her team prepared, hoisting up Shinso to be their rider. In that time, Kaida still couldn't figure out what was going with with Ojiro and the student from 1-B, but as he commanded them, it clicked. He was using his quirk. But why wouldn't he use it on her? Maybe there was a limit? She didn't even know what kind of quirk it was but it was some type of mind control. "Come on, everyone get your hands in the air! It's time for an arena-thumping UA battle royale! Let me hear ya scream!"

As the teams gathered around the battle field, Kaida carefully gripped the boys leg, smirking. In the extra time they had left, it gave Kaida the chance to fuel back up, her power back to one hundred percent. Sure, she was still worn out from the previous round, but the amount of flesh she ingested put her back on top to be able to deal with her classmates. Bakugo and Midoriya would be the easiest ones to deal with, seeing as she has somewhat trained with both of them, and she at least knows the fighting styles of the rest of her class.

"Okay, all you first years! I hope you're happy with your chosen teams! Let's get this party started! One final countdown before the game starts!" As Mic started the countdown from three, she felt a small tap to her head, her looking up at Hitoshi.

"Defense." It was just one word but she knew what he wanted.

"Begin!" Quirk activated, four tails swirled around her team to protect them, two other tails watching their backs. Just like every other team, they were after Midoriya, picking up the pace until they took off into the air thanks to the support course's equipment. With every team distracted, Kaida took the opportunity to try to steal headbands along the way, using her extended arms to her advantage. Her team was mostly passing the others by, taking headbands when they could. They weren't too focused on getting to Midoriya now like some of the others were. It was only the halfway point, and their best bet was to really wait it out, with how many points they had at the moment. They should be okay. With the other teams getting frozen over, Shinso was happy to take some of their headbands away.

"Only one minute left! Todoroki has cornered the ten-million-point team and is poised to seize the ultimate prize! At least, that's what I would have predicted five minutes ago!" Todoroki cornered Midoriya's team? There's no way he'd be beaten in strategy by them.. Izuku's too smart for his own good sometimes. There's just no way.. "Unbelievably, Team Midoriya's been able to keep away from the ice master for the last half of the game!"

"Wo-ho-ho! What just happened?! That was one big blur!" Her team came to a stop, looking in the direction of the ice walls. "Holy smokes, folks! Why didn't he show that super speed in the preliminaries?" That had to be talking about Iida? She was dying to know what happened, as time was almost up. "Insanity! This entire game was just turned completely on its head! Todoroki's team has the ten million points, and Midoriya's team is suddenly left with nothing at all!"

"What..?" A couple of tails disappeared from shock, Shinso quickly tapping her head again.

"Focus."

"Ah, right." But she didn't need to.

"Time's up! And with that, the second round is officially over! Now, let's take a look at who our top four teams are!" She let the boy down, stepping aside as they all stared up at the leader board, fingers crossed. "In first place, Team Todoroki! In second place, Team Bakugo! In third place is Tetsute- Wait, what?" Some of the cameras were met with two very confused boys, and the smirks of Kaida and Hitoshi. "It's Team Shinso? When did they come back from the dead?"

"Thanks for all your help." The boy said, walking away from the group while Kaida crossed her arms, turning to look at Ojiro. He was staring, terrified, after the other.

"And in fourth place is Team Midoriya!" So, he did advance! She grinned up at the cameras, seeing the boy in question crying a fountain. "These four valiant teams will advance on to the final round! Now, let's take an hour lunch break before we start the afternoon festivities! See ya soon!"

"Uh, hey.. Hiyama..?"

"Hm?" She turned her gaze to her blond teammate, tilting her head in question. "Mashi, are you okay?"

"What.. happened?" It was almost as if he was scared.

"We, our team made it to the finals. Do you not remember?"

"I.." He glanced away from her, her following his eyes after Shinso. "I just remember him asking me to join.. then nothing." She looked between the two before looking down.

"Hm..."

*

"Hi-To-Shi~!" The boy in question heard footsteps pounding behind him, getting closer down the outside corridor. He shuffled to a stop as he turned, only to be greeted with the female he had teamed up with during the cavalry battle, her waving away and catching up with him. "Hey!"

"Ya know it's rude to use first names with people you don't know well?" She only tilted her head, coming to a stop just a few feet away from him.

"Really? But, I thought you called your friends by their first names?"

"I don't recall us being friends." She had a warped concept of friendship, seeing as she called most of her classmates by their first names, and they never once complained, so she figured that made them friends. And that Hitoshi didn't stop her when she gave him a nickname.

"Oh. Hm.." She glanced away for a moment, a small frown coming to her face. "Your quirk.. it's some kind of mind control, isn't it? That's how you got Ojiro and the boy from 1-B on your team."

"You put that together from very little evidence?" He had a brow raised in question, a small smirk trying to form. She just shrugged.

"It's a gift. Anyways.." She looked away, watching a few small rodents run up and down the trees. "How come you didn't use it on me? Wouldn't that have benefited you more?"

"Did you want me to?" She snapped her gaze back to him, shaking her head quickly and taking a step forward.

"No, that's not wh-!" What was happening? She couldn't move, or say anything.

"Because I didn't need to tell you what to do, you already knew. But now, go away." She felt her body, turning around to head back to where she came from.

'No, no, no! Stop! What are you doing?! I wasn't finished talking!' She tried to yell out but she didn't make a sound as she disappeared back into the building. Once around the corner, she felt his quirk stop working, her being able to move freely. She gasped and ran back to where they were talking, only for him to be gone. "Dammit!"

She wandered around the grounds, weaving through the crowds and looking at all of the booths and festivities they had set up. It was pretty amazing. She had never really gone to a festival, let alone a school festival. So, walking around, she distracted herself with the chatter and the laughter. It was so cheery, light hearted. Though it was a happy atmosphere, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being followed. There were so many people, it had to be her imagination. Right?

"Excuse me!" Kaida jumped as a hand clamped around her arm, head swiveling around to meet wide golden eyes. "Hi! You're one of the first years that are moving onto the finals round, aren't you?"

"Ah.. yeah, I am!" She'll admit, Kaida was a little freaked out. A girl comes out of no where and won't get out of her personal space, almost fawning over her. She guessed that her expression was enough for the girl to let go, giggling a little.

"I'm sorry, am i making you uncomfortable? My bad~! I'm just a big fan! Your quirk is so cool! And you're really pretty, you remind me of someone. What was your name again?" The blonde bounced a little, tilting her head with a toothy smile.

"Oh, I'm Kaida. Hiyama-"

"Hiyama. Hiyama. Oh! Like Kaori Hiyama! That's who you look like!"

"That's my mom, you know my mom?" She was a little shocked, she had never heard anything from her mom about any kids she might've known. Kaori was mostly a stay at home mom, but normally went out every other day to do shopping or the like. Her side of the family was never really in town, and she never knew her dad's family.

"That's your mom?! I see her in town all the time! She's super nice and always gives me snacks if we run into each other!"

"Ha.. yeah, that kinda sounds like her." She scratched the back of her neck, slipping a hand into her pocket. The pretty girl in front of her grinned, nodding away as she clapped her hands.

"We should definitely hang out sometime, I think we could be really great friends!" She looked behind her before grabbing Kaida's hands in hers. "I gotta go but hopefully we'll see each other again! Bye-bye lil' sis!"

"Wait but I don't even know.. your.. name.." Kaida called out to the girl but she had already disappeared into the crowd. She sighed, playing with her hair as she turned to go back to the stadium. The lunch hour was almost up, and she didn't know what else to do. What could she do besides wait? She could always find Shinso, she wasn't done talking with him. Before she could do that though, she could here Present Mic's voice all the way from where she was, saying how it was almost time for the last round. Kaida sighed once again, quickly finding her way back to the stadium. Only to be met with an astonishing sight that made her cover the giggles erupting from her.

"Wh-what are you guys wearing?" The girls from 1-A turned and looked at her, completely embarrassed. Yaoyorozu whined, covering her face.

"It was the stupid pervert's little scheme.. we all fell for it.." Kaida gently patted the taller girl's shoulder, walking with them over to the tournament board to determine who they'd be fighting.

"Don't worry Momo, we'll get him back. I promise." That seemed to reassure the team of girls, most of them glaring at the little grape boy and his electric side kick. All of the first year students gathered in front of the platform where Midnight stood, watching as she picked up a box and walked to the front. Standing beside Momo and Mina, she heard some of her and Sero's conversation about the finals but mostly ignored everyone.

"Come closer and draw lots to see who you're up against. Then enjoy the pleasure of the recreational games before we start. The sixteen finalists have the option of participating in those activities or sitting out to prepare for battle. I'm sure you all want to conserve your stamina. I'll start with the first place team." She started to walk before Ojiro put his hand up and caught everyone's attention.

"Um. Excuse me. Sorry. But I'm withdrawing." Kaida gasped and she moved around everyone to rest her hand on his arm.

"Mashi.. What are you doing?"

"Ojiro, no way!"

"But this is a rare chance for you to get scouted." Midoriya and Iida chimed in, turning around to face the boy.

"It just wouldn't be right. I barely remember anything from the cavalry battle until the very end of it. I... think it was that guy's Quirk." The maroonette frowned, turning her eyes just a little to the left of them. Shinso. He just turned away. "I know this is a great opportunity. I wish I could take advantage of it, but my conscience won't let me." Midoriya told him to think about, making the tail boy a little defensive, Kaida dropping her hand from his arm. "Everyone gave their all in round two, but I was just someone's puppet. No way. I don't wanna advance if I don't even know how I got here. It wouldn't be fair."

"You're making way too much of this! Just kill it in the finals and prove you should be here." Hagakure's pom poms fluttered about as she waved her arms, Mina joining in to comfort him, but it was all in vain.

"That's not it. I'm talking about my pride here. I refuse to give that up. Also, why are all the girls, except Hiyama, dressed like cheerleaders?" The girls all groaned, asking themselves why he had to throw that in. Kaida looked up in time to see the other boy, that was on the team with her, withdrawing as well.

"This sort of talk is incredibly naive, my boys. That turns me on!" Hiyama shuddered a little. She got that Midnight was an R-rated hero.. but this was a high school game.. "Shoda! Ojiro! You're withdrawn!" Taking a deep breath, she smiled at Mashirao, nodding.

"I'm sorry it came to this. I'll fight for you then. You deserve some wins." He looked down at her, a thankful smile taking over his features as he nodded back.

"Thanks, Hiyama. It means a lot."

"Now, let's see... We'll have to move up two students from the fifth-place cavalry team so we have enough contestants." The 1-B team of girls decided against filling in, since they were frozen the entire time, rather giving the spots over to another team. "And so, Tetsutetsu and Shiozaki have advanced to the finals! Take a look at the bracket, my dears. These are your opponents!" Kaida gasped and looked over to the pinkette who was grinning away at her.

"I can't wait to melt your butt!" She yelled at the maroonette, making her laugh as she cracked her knuckles with a smirk. Her eyes changed, signaling her Quirk activating which made Bakugo snort.

"If you can even touch me, I'll throw you out of bounds without a problem."

"Look, the battle of the Raccoons." The girls growled and turned to the ash blond.

"What did you say, Sparky?!"

"Don't fucking call me that!"

"Okay! Let's press pause for a momentary interlude! Before the battles begin, it's time for some pulse-pounding side games!" Mic quickly interjected, getting everyone excited. Kaida looked at the girls before sighing, catching their attention.

"Hey Momo?.. Wanna.. Wanna make me one of those uniforms?" The group gasped, Jirou shaking her head quickly while Mina and Hagakure grabbed her hands.

"You would really do that?!"

"Well, it's not fair that all of the girls got humiliated but me. So, let me join in in this madness." Her face was already turning red but she just waved it off. It wasn't fair that they all had to deal with this dumb prank. Momo was quick to make the uniform, quickly handing it over while the girls shoved her to the changing rooms. Oh, she was going to regret this. They called out the first game, Scavenger Hunt, her shaking her head as she changed while catching a glimpse of the scar she had gained from the USJ attack. Normally, her wounds would've healed without one but they were usually just paper cuts and the such.

Kaida took a moment to actually take the look in, twirling a little. She couldn't help but feel... giddy, being able to do something almost considered fun. She left the changing room, after folding her clothes neatly, putting them to the side, and walked out to the girls. Mina turned and jumped happily as she saw the girl. "Oh my god, Kai, you look so pretty!"

That exclamation caught everyone else's attention and she could see some students of the other classes, and even her own class, falter and trip up some. It made her giggle while Hagakure handing over an extra pair of pom poms to her. Ochaco, Mina, Kaida, Hagakure, and Tsu started to cheer their class on. She could see the looks on the students faces, Mina pointing it out and convincing Kaida to do something with her and Hagakure.

"Uh.. are you sure this will encourage them..?" The maroonette's face was turning red from the suggestion, Jirou hearing what they were planning and pulling Kaida aside.

"Don't fall for it, it's super embarrassing!"

"But.. it'll help our classmates keep going, right?" The girl sighed, covering her face.

"You're too nice, Kaida.."

"Kai-Kai! Come on! They're coming this way, let's cheer them on!"

"Ah, okay!" She joined the two girls, pulling the poms in front of her chest and looked at the girls to follow their lead. With a big smile, she danced along with the girls, moving her hips the way Mina taught her as they spun around, kicking up and cheering for 1-A. She could see Uraraka hesitantly join the girls, only because she wanted to help cheer, and Tsu was soon behind. It was a little embarrassing but she saw the looks on Denki and Eijiro's faces. It looked like the encouraging was working! When their little dance came to an end, she looked towards one of the entrances, seeing a certain purple haired boy watching. Making eye contact, she grinned wide and waved. She could see a small smirk come to his face as he turned away. That was a good sign! Maybe they'd be friends yet.

* "We didn't even have to convince Hiyama to wear the uniform, she did it all by herself!" Mineta whispered over to Kaminari, a few of the other males joining in with the staring.

"Yeah, but she knows it was your idea. You're gonna die, dude." Sero interjected. The little boy was nearly crying out of happiness.

"This was so worth it!"

* "What the fuck are you wearing, Red?" The girl in question turned to face the blond coming towards her, his natural scowl on his face. A big smile came to her face.

"Oh, Katsu! Hah, well.. Mineta pranked the other girls, and I felt bad that I was the only one that didn't have to deal with it. So, I thought i would join in." He rolled his eyes and threw something towards her, her quickly catching it and looking at the fabric I her hands. Her gym jacket? "Kat-"

"Just put it on." He said, starting to walk away before stopping. "The pervert and a few others are drooling over you, cover yourself up."

"Are you jealous?" She couldn't stop the words coming out of her mouth, but his reaction made her laugh, his cheeks tinted pink.

"I'm not! Fuckin-! Whatever!" He quickly walked off to the waiting rooms, head down as he grumbled to himself. She watched him leave before her eyes traveled to the jacket in her hands, slipping it on and burying her face in her hands. That was.. oddly sweet of him.

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[artificialqueens]

Undone, Chapter 29 (Bitney) - Stephanie/Veronica

A/N: Well, we’re almost at the end! This is the penultimate chapter, and I promise to post the last one soon! Here’s a link to the previous chapters. Thank you so much to @opalescent-cheetah and @artificialpuddle for beta-reading.

Chapter Summary: Courtney whisks Bianca away for a weekend of rest and relaxation. When they return to LA, they’re met with an unwelcome surprise.  

TW: Emotional abuse, PTSD, stalking, serious car accident

***

Bianca is eerily quiet during their drive up the coast. Courtney wants to ask her questions, but she doesn’t dare. Instead, she keeps her eyes on the road, occasionally reaching over to place a hand on Bianca’s, just as a small gesture to remind her that she’s not alone.

They arrive at the beautiful house just as the sun is setting. Bianca goes straight to the bedroom to lie down while Courtney discreetly cancels their dinner reservations and brews a few cups of herbal tea. She brings them into the bedroom on a tray, setting it on the night table. She wants to lie down, take Bianca into her arms, but she’s not sure if that’s the right thing to do at the moment. Instead, she stands a bit awkwardly, checking out the views from the bedroom window, watching the ocean waves in the distance.

Bianca sits up, wordlessly reaching for her, pulling her onto the bed. It takes her a minute to get comfortable, pushing aside the covers and curling up against Courtney’s body. Finally, as Courtney’s hand drifts lovingly through her hair, she seems to relax, a deep sigh leaving her.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles into Courtney’s shoulder.

“Sorry for what?” Courtney asks, pressing her cheek to the top of Bianca’s head.

"For..." Bianca pauses, biting her lip, shame etched into the crease between her brows. "I’m sure this isn’t how you pictured a weekend away together.”

“The whole point of the weekend is to give you a chance to relax. I don’t have any expectations.”

“Really?” Bianca asks skeptically.

“Yes.”

“Then why do you have a Trader Joe’s bag full of sex toys?”

Shit. Courtney winces a little, saying, “You saw that?”

“Yeah, I thought it would be snacks,” Bianca admits with a dry laugh.

“I’m sorry. I just thought maybe...we should have options.” Courtney feels a bit guilty. She tried to plan for anything Bianca might be in the mood for, not realizing that it would seem insensitive.  

“I do like...options.”

“Yeah, I know you do,” Courtney giggles with a relieved sigh. She breathes in, inhaling the sweet scent of Bianca’s hair, arms tight around her. “So, you were looking for snacks. Does that mean you’re hungry? Wanna order some food?”

“No. I just want you.” Bianca buries her face into Courtney’s neck, shifting against her.

Courtney holds her closer. These moments, when she can enjoy the quiet closeness, these are the times when she feels the luckiest. It’s been a rough road for them to get to this place, but Courtney wouldn’t trade any of it for the world.

A gasp from Bianca causes her to open her eyes.

“What is it? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just...I think...I think I felt her move for the first time…” Bianca’s blue eyes are wide with wonder, hands on her abdomen.

“Omigod, really? Can I feel?” Courtney squeals.

“Yeah...I guess I could be wrong. It didn’t feel like much.” Bianca’s brow furrows, lifting her top so that Courtney can place warm hands on her little bump.

“What did it feel like?”

“Kind of...fluttery? I don’t know…I’m probably being a dumbass.”

Courtney’s thumbs stroke Bianca’s belly, and she leans in.

“Hi, Naomi Watts Del Rio,” Courtney coos, making Bianca laugh. “Are you awake? Wanna come say hi?”

She waits for a few moments, looking up at Bianca questioningly.

“Are you feeling anything?”

“No,” Bianca sighs, a bit disappointed. “I probably just imagined it. Maybe it was just my stomach growling or—”

She stops, brow furrowed.

“—Did you feel that?”

“No?”

“Are you sure? Because it was definitely something…” Bianca’s hands join Courtney’s. “Talk to her some more.”

Courtney nods, moving her face even closer to Bianca’s belly.

“Listen, Naomi, you should really know—”

“Right there!”

“I felt it!” Courtney exclaims. “Omigod, that’s so cool.”

“Yeah. It’s really cool,” Bianca says, feeling a bit like it’s the understatement of the year. “Keep talking…”

“I want you to know how excited we are to meet you, Naomi... I’ve even learned how to use a drill to build your bed.”

“You probably should have known that already,” Bianca says.

“Shh, we’re talking,” Courtney teases, continuing. “Now, we understand that your brain is not quite developed, and honestly probably won’t be fully cooked until you’re about 25 years old, so I want you to know that if you have any questions, about anything, feel free to ask.”

A light chuckle escapes from Bianca’s mouth. 25 years. Good lord.

“We’ll do our best to provide answers. Although, we really can’t promise that we know everything. There’s a lot we’re still learning, too.”

“Tell me about it,” Bianca mutters, more to herself than to Courtney. It isn’t until Courtney’s eyes lift to meet hers, the happy expression immediately melting into one of concern, that Bianca realizes she’s crying again. “Shit, sorry.”

She wipes her face aggressively with the back of her sleeve, sniffling.

“What’s going on, B?”

“I just...sometimes I forget. That this is forever. That I’m never really getting away from him.”

Courtney takes both of her hands, presses soft kisses against the back of her wrists.

“I feel so guilty, like...I should just be happy, all the time. And usually I am, but…” Bianca’s breath hitches. “Why can’t I be more grateful?”

“You’re scared,” Courtney tells her. She wishes more than anything that she could make it better. “There’s a lot of things we don’t know yet. I think anyone would be scared.”

Bianca nods.

“And I’m sure most mothers have things they’re scared about. Maybe all mothers. So try to give yourself a break,” Courtney says. She reaches up to brush some hair from Bianca’s face. “We’re gonna figure it out.”

Bianca sighs deeply.

“I think I actually am pretty hungry. Let’s order dinner.”

“Okay.” Courtney squeezes her hands one more time before reaching for her phone.  

***

Things feel brighter when Bianca wakes up on Saturday—enough that Courtney convinces her to go into town that afternoon, check out the sights, do some window shopping. They’re wandering around a park when it slips out that she’s been so terrified to tell anyone about the pregnancy before Jared knew that she hasn’t even told her mom yet.

“What?!” Courtney exclaims, scandalized, then confesses, “Even my mum knows. And Shea, but that was an accident when I got drunk. And Sasha, because...well, Shea told her. But they knew not to say anything!”

“Not good at keeping secrets, are you?” Bianca asks, shaking her head.

“Well, I mean, I’m...no, I guess not. I’m sorry. I was excited.” Courtney bites her lip. “Oops?”

It’s hard to be mad at that, so Bianca just shrugs, strolling over to a shady bench and sitting down.

“Do you think we should call my mom?”

“Yes!”

It’s exactly, exactly what Bianca needs. To hear the thrilled excitement in her mother’s voice, how enthusiastically she lists all of the things that she has to send them, asks question after question about her health, if she’s getting enough sleep, have they thought about names, does she need anything? It’s a reminder that no matter what happens with Jared, her baby will be surrounded by love, not just from them, but from a huge extended family. That this isn’t all on her and Courtney’s shoulders. That even though she feels alone sometimes, she’s very much not.

After chatting and crying and laughing with her mother for nearly 45 minutes, Bianca finally hangs up, exhausted and full of love.

“Who’s next?!” Courtney asks, clapping her hands. “Vanessa? Latrice? Kim? Adore?”  

Bianca shakes her head.

“Well, Vanessa already kind of knows. I guess me staying sober at a wedding was too big of a clue.”

“It’s a little suspicious,” Courtney laughs.

“But...can we make the rest of the calls tomorrow? Right now I just wanna...enjoy the sun.”

“Whatever you want, babe.”

***

They spend the rest of the day downtown, strolling around an art museum, doing some shopping. Bianca even finds herself excited about going back to the house and getting dolled up for the fancy Italian restaurant Courtney booked for them.

She’s glad that they came, and not just because the dress-up night includes Courtney in red lipstick and a smokey eye, looking sinfully sexy as she sits across from her in the candlelight. Also because it feels normal, this date night. It feels like what their lives should be, all the time. The two of them laughing and chatting. Courtney’s sorry attempt to eat her food left-handed because she doesn’t want to unlace her fingers from Bianca’s. And of course, the food is unbelievable. So good that Courtney picks up her dessert plate and starts to lick it.

“What are you doing?!” Bianca hisses.

“It’s good,” Courtney defends herself.  

“Yes, I know that, but we’re not animals.”

“Licking a plate is a sign of respect for the chef,” Courtney says, eyes glittering with laughter.

“Where?!” demands Bianca.

“In my house,” Courtney says.

“Okay...then maybe you should only lick plates in your own house. Where people can’t see you. Because this is...very embarrassing.”

Courtney puts down her plate and sighs in mock seriousness, saying, “Bianca...if you can’t support my platelicking lifestyle, then we have a real problem.”

“I’ll order you another dessert.”

“You’re really missing the point,” Courtney giggles. “And since when do you have a problem with me licking things?”

“Fine. Be weird. Lick away,” Bianca says. She takes a sip of her tea and does nothing to stop Courtney from leaning over the table and licking her cheek, instead just laughing joyfully and shaking her head.

***

On Sunday, Bianca’s eyes flutter open to the sound of Courtney’s quiet footsteps. She sits up, realizing that Courtney’s already been out for a run, and is now heading towards the bathroom with her sneakers in her hand.

“Hey,” Bianca says, voice still hoarse with sleep, and Courtney looks up at her guiltily.

“Hey. Sorry for waking you.” She places her sneakers on the floor, smiling softly when Bianca reaches out her arms, beckoning her over.

“Come.”

“I’m all gross, don’t you want me to shower first?” Courtney asks, walking over to the bed.

“No.” Bianca takes her hand and pulls her in close, whispering, “I like you sweaty.”

Courtney slides her arms around Bianca’s shoulders.

“Is that so?”

“Uh huh.” Bianca’s fingers are already up under her shorts, slipping in through the side of her panties. She lowers her head to lick the salty sweat from her neck.

It’s strange. When Jared would return from the gym, she always recoiled if he touched her before getting into the shower. She told herself that it was because it was gross and dirty and anyone would feel that way. But now, as she buries her nose into Courtney’s damp hair, inhaling her scent like it’s a drug, she has to admit that there’s an astronomical difference.

Bianca’s thumb grazes Courtney’s clit, making her whimper pitifully. She’s sticky and wet and absolute perfection. Her other hand is teasing, nails lightly scratching her back, raking along her spine.

“We need to cut your nails again,” Courtney says.

“Oh yeah?” Bianca moves her hand lower, nails moving in gentle circles over her ass before digging into the tender flesh.

“Oh god,” Courtney breathes. “Maybe not.”

Bianca bites softly on her earlobe before ordering in a low voice, “Take off your top.”

Courtney obeys instantly, pulling it off and flinging it aside. She’s fully gone; eyes dilated, dripping wet. Bianca pulls her slick fingers away and holds them out like an offering.

“Taste.”

Courtney’s mouth falls open and Bianca pushes her fingers gently inside. She sucks on them ardently, so utterly shameless that Bianca thinks she might come just from watching. Her heart races as she withdraws her fingers, pulling Courtney into a passionate kiss, licking into her mouth. She can taste her, that salty sweetness that makes Bianca dizzy with lust.

She works her fingers back in between Courtney’s thighs, ghosting over her clit—once, twice, three times—watching her gasp and plead for more, arching into her hand. Her head is lolling back, and Bianca nibbles along her jaw.

“Look at me.”

Courtney’s head turns toward her slowly, hips now rutting faster against Bianca’s fingers.

“Please, B…”

“Please what?”

“Fuck me. Please fuck me, I need-” Courtney inhales sharply as two fingers push inside her hot, wet pussy. She moans brokenly.

“I love the beautiful sounds you make,” Bianca tells her, curling her fingers, thumb still dancing over her clit.

“I love...I love…”

“What do you love, angel?”

Courtney’s moaning is getting higher and louder as Bianca strokes her from the inside.

“Tell me.”

But Courtney’s now too lost in her own ecstasy for words. Instead, it’s just unintelligible moans as she arches up, fisting the sheets, face tilted towards Bianca. She’s rapidly unraveling, spasms rocking her body, over and over.

Bianca’s mouth hovers over hers, swallowing up her gorgeous moans.

“Had enough, baby?”

Courtney shakes her head, and Bianca smiles, sucking gently on her bottom lip, thumb pressing against her swollen clit. She keeps going until Courtney can’t take it anymore, tears collected in her eyes, sweat beading on her brow.

“B...oh, god.”

Bianca eases her fingers out slowly and sucks them into her mouth as Courtney collapses against her chest, panting. She presses a kiss against her sweaty temple, rocking her.

“Fuck…” Courtney exhales. “I was...not expecting that.”

“No?” Bianca flutters her lashes innocently, dimples deep.

Courtney smiles up at her, shaking her head.

“You’re full of surprises. I never would have expected for you to be so into the...the mess of it all.”

She offers a lopsided grin and says, “But your mess is beautiful. Delicious. So-”

She’s cut off as Courtney’s lips press against hers again, hot tongue slipping into her mouth. She can feel things shifting, feel her spine begin to tingle as Courtney pushes her onto her back, slips a hand under her top to pinch her nipple. She arches up with a gasp.

“Hey,” she pants against Courtney’s mouth, “What do you say we just...stay in bed all day? How does that sound?”  

“Sold!” Courtney replies, pulling a sheet over them.

All things considered, it’s a pretty good day. They do in fact stay in bed for hours, fucking lazily and dozing on and off, bodies tangled together, finally getting around to ordering some food around 3, and then wandering downstairs to enjoy the swimming pool and lounge in the warm sun until it begins to set. Bianca manages a few more phone calls about the baby. Vanessa has broken the news to her other sisters already (unsurprising), but Latrice is shocked and thrilled, squealing into her ear with joy. No one brings up the Jared factor, and Bianca is grateful for that.

Once the autumn air turns chilly, she and Courtney head back inside, climbing under the covers to experiment with that Trader Joe’s bag of toys, until Bianca’s voice is hoarse and raspy from moaning, body so spent that she can barely move.

As a bonus, it keeps Bianca’s mind occupied and her hands busy during the day, and allows her a few hours of sound, restful sleep.

***

Bianca is on pins and needles on Monday, waiting for Asia’s message about the restraining order. She finally gets the call a little after eleven, telling her that everything’s been taken care of and that it’s safe to come back.

“Make sure to tell me if he contacts you in any way, because we can use that to make the restraining order permanent,” she explains.

They get on the road right away; Courtney knows that Bianca is anxious to see the dogs, and to get a bunch of errands done before they have to go back to work on Tuesday. They manage to only stop once for gas in Van Nuys.

Bianca’s just coming out from the restroom when her phone starts to ring. She sees the caller ID and feels the chill all throughout her body. It’s a new number, but she knows who it is anyway. And then she sees the rest of the notifications: over 10 new text messages, from the same number.

When the voicemail message pops up, she presses her phone on the hood of the car, face down, closing her eyes.

“I don’t want to listen. I don’t want to look.”

“You don’t have to,” says Courtney. “You can just forward everything to Asia.”

“How?” Bianca says, voice breaking. She’s starting to feel so small and useless again.

“Come here, baby.” Courtney takes the phone gently and shows her how to forward the message.

Bianca feels like a moron. It’s ridiculously simple. If she wasn’t shaking so hard, she would have figured it out herself. Courtney also goes to her text messages, takes a couple of screenshots, and includes them as well. She doesn’t make Bianca read them, but the look on her face tells Bianca all she needs to know.

“He’s mad, isn’t he? About the restraining order. The baby, I-”

“Yeah. He’s mad.” Courtney doesn’t hand her phone back, instead placing it into the cup holder, where Bianca doesn’t have to see it, but it begins to buzz again almost immediately.

Bianca whimpers pitifully at the sound, that helpless feeling returning, and Courtney takes a deep breath.

“Okay, listen. He’s clearly not following the restraining order. What do you say we stop home to grab a few things, and then find a hotel to stay in for the week? I’m sure Sasha won’t mind keeping the dogs for a few more days.”

It’s a practical plan. Bianca is grateful that at least one of them still has their wits about them. She nods, agreeing.

“Okay.” Courtney leans across the center console and brushes a light kiss against Bianca’s cheek.

They get back on the road, thankful that at least they’re gonna be home well before rush hour. But when they finally turn onto their street, Bianca lets out a gasp.

“Are you okay?” asks Courtney, concern creasing her brow.

“Don’t park!” Bianca says, dialing the phone anxiously. “Keep driving!”

Courtney gets a sick feeling, confirmed when a shiny charcoal-colored SUV pulls out. She doesn’t even have to look closely at the face in the rearview mirror to know who it is.

“Are you calling the cops?” Courtney asks.

“No, I thought I should call Asia,” Bianca says, phone to her ear. “Oh shit.”

“Maybe...maybe you should call 911 instead?” Courtney suggests. She’s trying valiantly to stay calm, even with Jared right on her tail. Her mind races, thinking for a safe place to pull over. Maybe if she just drives for a bit, he’ll give up.

“Hi, is she in? This is Bianca, and we--Jared is following us. We’re in the car, he was waiting in front of our house, I...Okay...Yeah, it’s on...Yeah, I will.”

Bianca hangs up, her breathing shallow.

“What did she say?”

“I talked to her office. They said…” Bianca takes a sharp breath, trying to calm herself, as Courtney turns from Ocean Ave onto the PCH. 

Maybe the long stretch of highway will discourage him. After all, as much as he clearly wants to confront Bianca, he has to know that a high-speed chase isn’t going to help him at all. Courtney prays that he’s at least partially being fueled by self-preservation instead of blind rage--at this point, it seems like their best hope for getting away.

“They said to call 911, and that they’re tracking our location with this app they installed on my phone, so if-” Bianca lets out a sob.

All Courtney wants is to stop the fucking car and hug her, promise that everything will be okay. But she doesn’t have that luxury right now, so she settles for a hand on Bianca’s thigh when they pull up to the next light. An excruciatingly long one. Jared is honking his horn at them, trying to intimidate her into pulling over, getting out.

Turn green, turn green, turn green.

Bianca dials 911, glancing back anxiously at him before forcing herself to face forward.

“Fuck...I’m on hold.”

“Okay...it’s okay.” Being on hold right now is infuriating, but Courtney knows that she has to stay calm. The light finally changes. “Don’t worry, they’ll answer.”

She grips the wheel with both hands, trying to glance back at Jared at little as possible, telling herself lies to keep calm. She’s just driving. Just driving straight ahead. It’s a road trip. No big deal.

The whole thing is a nightmare that won’t let up--Jared is right on her tail, his steely eyes boring into her soul every time she so much as glances back. Bianca is growing more and more hysterical as she waits for the operator to answer, begging Courtney to drive faster, but really begging her to keep them safe, something that Courtney isn’t capable of at the moment. The crushing failure of things spiraling out of control makes Courtney feel trapped and terrified, like they’ve already lost.

She tries to keep her own emotions in check, but finds herself wavering between panic and dissociation. The only thing keeping her from a full-blown meltdown are the hypnotic lines in the road, the weak promise of something less terrible if she just keeps going.

She barely even registers when Bianca finally gets on the line with the 911 operator, her words nearly incomprehensible as she tries to frantically explain their situation. Where they are, why they haven’t pulled over yet.

Anyone thinking straight would have pulled over.

Anyone with half a brain would have seen it coming.

Bianca’s voice is hoarse and shrill at the same time, reaching a fever pitch as she screams for Courtney to go faster. And then Courtney makes the fatal mistake of checking the mirror. For one hideous second, her eyes lock with Jared’s.

He smiles.

And then she hits a blind curve too fast, has to cut the wheel hard to the right to avoid an oncoming truck, then hard to the left so they don’t crash right into the cliffside.

That’s when she loses control, the car skidding over the wrong side of the road, right for the guardrail.

There are a few moments of slow motion before they crash through the guardrail, and all Courtney can see is the deep, dark blue of the Pacific Ocean.

And she thinks to herself, ‘What a shame. What a shame to die like this.’

And then everything goes black.

[codswalloping]

End of year fic meme time!

Total number of completed stories: 16

Total word count: 137,549. To put this in perspective, the most words I’ve ever posted in a year before was 51,500 or so, back in 2011 when I was unemployed and got crazy into BBC Sherlock. So...yes, this has been A YEAR.

Fandom Breakdown: 12 Schitt’s Creek, 2 Score: A Hockey Musical, 2 Watchmaker of Filigree Street

Overall Thoughts: Well! So, I’m still not too old to get kidnapped by plot bunnies and dragged away into a fandom cave of unexpected and surpassing depth, then? Who knew!

Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you'd predicted? Clearly more, since I had no intention whatsoever of writing ANY.

What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted in January? I mean, all of it, but even after I got heavily into Schitt’s Creek fandom I don’t think I would have imagined I’d be writing Score: A Hockey Musical fic in my very wildest hare-brained imaginings

Did you take any writing risks this year? What did you learn from them? Well, some, kind of. I guess it felt a little risky writing kink and supernatural AUs in a fandom that’s largely composed of canon-compliant fluff. But honestly, a lot of what I write is still my usual - I’m mainly into the same kinks as I was ten years ago and also still addicted to my same basic brand of h/c.

Do you have any fanfic or profic goals for the New Year? My main goal after I finish a writing project is usually “don’t start anything else, it’s far too consuming and you have no time for this,” but I keep failing at that. I guess it has occurred to me that maybe it’s time for me to try again to write a YA novel for reals, but IDK, I know far too much about the publishing biz to believe that it would really be either profitable or fun even if I were to succeed. 

From my past year of writing, what was...

My best story of this year: Okay, maybe it’s only because I just finished it and I’m in loooooove, but I’m awfully proud of Boyfriends. It’s the longest thing I’ve ever written, and it’s an A/B/O consensual gangbang with adolescent awkwardness, pining, and extended thematic references to Edith Wharton. Based loosely on the worst musical I have ever seen. Brain, what, why, how did this happen, wtf. I had no plans to write it and didn’t know where it was headed when I started and I’m just so amused and in love with the whole enterprise. Also MOOOOOSE. <3

My most popular story of this year: The Visit, in which Patrick’s high school BFF comes for a weekend and creates havoc. My buddy Pun came up with the idea for this story, which wasn’t something I’d ever have thought of on my own, and I’m so pleased I was able to write it for her. It’s not my own fave, but I do like it a lot.

Story of mine most under-appreciated by the universe, in my opinion: I hesitate to say any of them, because I feel incredibly appreciated by Schitt’s Creek fandom and have zero complaints whatsoever. I guess I was a little surprised that Ice Cold Heat, my iceplay kink PWP, didn’t go over better than it did, but A) it got kind of buried on the last page of Frozen Over fics when I posted it and B) it’s a kink that maybe a lot of people don’t get or don’t think is hot? The people who enjoyed it REALLY seemed to enjoy it, though, so I don’t feel too badly for it.

Story with the single sexiest moment: Hmmm. I wrote a ton of porn this year, but unfortunately I almost never find my own writing very sexy after I’ve posted it, so I don’t really know. Okay, in Helpless (the shaving fic) I do still really love the moment when Patrick tips up his chin to expose his throat and realizes that the combo of intimacy + vulnerability + David’s hand on his thigh is making him hard. Sure, I’ll go with that.

Most "Holy crap, that's wrong, even for you" story: I mean, I wrote an a/b/o gangbang fic for a wholesome teen musical canon. I am suitably ashamed of myself, yes. I also wrote tentacle fic for a small and sweet book fandom with a canonical mechanical octopus that had NO TENTACLE FIC ON AO3 YET but if that’s wrong, I really don’t want to be right.

Story that shifted my own perceptions of the characters: I guess I had to do some hard thinking about David and Patrick and how they’d each approach kink and why when I wrote Control, sort of? It got a lot more charactery than I’d planned on when I started it, I know that much.

Hardest story to write: Without a doubt, Wolf in Progress. Damn, I nearly gave up on that one so many times, and I’m still not that happy with how it came out. It has, like, Plot and Action and stuff. I don’t know what came over me; I was so out of my comfort zone.

Most Unintentionally Telling Story: Also Wolf in Progress. There’s some...stuff in there, yeah.

In conclusion: Damn, son. Look at me doing fandom again, at my age. It’s been an unbelievable joy to meet all these awesome new folks this year, and all this writing has been KEY as an escape valve for my life, you don’t even know. Thank you thank you thank you to everyone who has awesomely read and commented on my stuff and played with me on tumblr and discord and twitter and at RL meetups this year. I appreciate the FUCK out of you. <3

Now, everyone else should fill this out too, I wanna see your answers, K?