#CHILL HA I didn’t mean that pun I’m sorry

[magnoliasforyourmedic]

So Hoobler’s Luger misfired while he was cleaning it or whatever right? But what if the bullet didn’t hit him, instead hitting someone else? What if the bullet hit Doc?? Non-fatally of course because I would actually cry, but still a scary situation of them trying to figure out what happened and if anyone was hurt only to find out it was Doc. And Hoobler would feel so bad but Doc is so forgiving he’s like “it’s my fault for walking there in the first place” and everyone’s like “are you seriously apologizing for existing??”

[welcometohellfilm]

Hi! I recently saw W2H2 part 1 and I must say it’s pretty amazing! Even better then the first one (which I loved btw), I know you anticipated that it wouldn’t have been full done, but I still wished the animation and the coloring were completed, like the first short. Nevertheless It has its charm anyway so good job, still amazing as always ! I just wanted to ask a few questions about Mephistopheles:

1) Is Mephistopheles actually capable of being evil and doing evil things as well ? Is he the type of guy that is usually pretty chill but can get REALLY angry if you piss him off? At the end of the first act, he said to Sock that he would fired him if he didn’t complete the job… did he mean literally “to fire him” (like burn or hurt him), or just meant “fired from the job” without causing him any harm? I am very curious about this character, I find him pretty charming and interesting! (I also love his character design)

2) How long will it be before the second and third parts of W2H2 release more or less (Months, years…)? And how long each part will be? Don’t wanna put preassure on you ofc , I’m just curious but I will be patient if that’s the case!

Thank you for this amazing little cartoon! I really love the plot and the characters and I look foward to see more! I hope you’ll reply soon and thank u again <33 (also sorry for my bad english but I am Italian eheh)

haha... yeah I'm getting that comment from a lot of people. But idk, when I look at the first short it looks pretty incomplete to me! Like to me, I think having better animation and less color is a decent trade-off, but I guess for a lot of people the color really did a lot of heavy-lifting. Anyway, I know it's a little disappointing, but my options were "call it good enough and post it", or "drive myself crazy working on it until I die", I know that sounds dramatic, and maybe I could've forced myself to finish at least throwing color on it, but I don't know, I didn't want to start resenting the thing I'm supposed to be passionate about. I kinda put myself between a rock and a hard place, didn't I? Sorry for the rant! I'm glad you enjoyed it anyway, haha. UHHH on to questions! 1. Mephistopheles is complicated. Or at least, I think he is, and I'm trying to figure out what that balance is. (I have an entire wordpad file full of notes/thoughts on Mephistopheles from one of my friends who's given a surprising amount of thought to the morality of the character that I'm gonna have to reference moving forward, haha). But as for my original thoughts on the character--- I don't consider him evil, but I think he's capable of doing things we would call 'evil', just like any human is. And like humans, he can be motivated by flawed, negative thoughts and feelings; spite, revenge, jealousy, whatever. But unlike humans he exists outside of space and time, and he's not a human himself, so his perception of morality is just different. The "you're fired" comment is meant to be a little confusing... like, you come to expect these stupid hell jokes from him, but then he clarifies "that wasn't a pun". And he's the devil, so maybe he's not joking. He COULD condemn Sock to hell. So that's the stakes of the story! If Meph is serious, Sock could be in a lot of trouble. We're not sure exactly how lenient he's going to be, or how trust-worthy he is. He's the devil! Toying with people is kind of his whole thing! haha. 2. It's not gonna' be another 10 years, that's for sure!!! Most of Part 2 is already rough animated (at least as much as Part 1 has been). There's still... one or two scenes that need more animation, and pretty much every shot of Shadow!Jonathan still needs to be done. It also needs more backgrounds, but there's FEWER backgrounds in Part 2 (Hell is just a re-usable Shadow-Realmy-y void), and a lot of the stuff from Jonathan's house can be re-used with different lighting. I'll have a better idea of the timeline once I sit down and crack it open again... and it's about to get kind of busy with the holidays and all, but it should be finished some time next year! Hopefully in the first half of 2025! I'll try to keep everyone posted. Anyway thanks for your questions! Hope this helped!

[sl-newsie]

American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 13: Blessings In Disguise

Still no sign of Thomas. He’s still asleep, and the memory of our last encounter still runs a chill down my spine. Is he still upset? I didn’t intend to make him mad but he has to understand that it’s his own doing that’s digging him this hole of chaos. 

“Eat up, Finn,” I urge as I pass him some eggs. 

The young Shelby does quick work to devour his breakfast and goes to grab his hat.

“Whoa, whoa! Where’s the fire?” 

“‘M late for something,” he replies before dashing out the door.

I guess there’s never a quiet moment in this house-

“Morning.”

As I said. Never quiet.

“Morning, Mr. Shelby,” I answer quietly as Thomas steps in. His tone is much less gruff that I expected. Maybe he’s forgotten-

“About yesterday…”

He didn’t forget.

“You don’t decide my life, Steenstra. Same as how I don’t decide yours. Are we square?”

I sigh heavily and loom up at him with concerned eyes. “I know. You bring this on yourself, whether you might want it or not. I will apologize, so long as you apologize for letting your temper loose.”

The Peaky Blinder’s eyes widen in surprise. ��Me? You want me to say sorry for yelling? Are you really that soft?”

Bam!

I slam my own fist onto the table and Thomas reaches for his pistol.

“That’s what it feels like, Thomas. To step on eggshells, not knowing what little thing might set the gunpowder off. What might set you off.”

Those blue eyes’ cold stare softens and I think he gets my point.

“I’m sorry,” I start.

Thomas nods. “I’m s-”

Just then John walks in. “Tommy! What gives?” He gestures to the gun and Thomas slips it back into its holster. “Tell her what happened, eh? We’ve got leverage, Verena! Met with some new partners at the Garrison yesterday.”

“Billy Kimber himself even made an appearance,” Thomas says.

Kimber? I thought I heard Polly call that bloke a piece of bad news. 

“Might have an alliance forming,” John agrees.

“You’re playing with fire,” I scold lightly and start to roll out more bread dough.

Out of the corner of my eye I see Thomas walk over and whisper smugly: “I don’t catch fire. Fire catches me, love.”

John rolls his eyes at his stupid pun and walks off towards the office. I expect Thomas to follow but instead he sits down and takes a drink. How is this man still alive from all this whiskey?

“Something’s wrong. What are you stressed about, hm? You look like you’re about to explode.”

Thomas sighs and pinches his forehead. “Ada and Freddie are still here.”

“So?” One would think Ada and Freddie’s close location would be a good thing, or at least that’s what my family is like. We all stick close to the same spot.

“I made a deal with the copper that he’d be run out of town.”

I dust the flower off my hands and gesture to Thomas. “Like I said. Playing with fire. Between that, the guns, and this Kimber fellow, I don’t know who’s going to kill you first.”

The blue-eyed gangster looks up at me with a teasing gaze. “You’d be sad to see that, eh?”

“It’d mean I lose my job.”

Yes, I would be sad to see Thomas dead. It’s sad to see anybody dead. After the trust I’ve earned from him it’s not easy to ignore my growing attachment. Mother always says my feelings are what trips me up. Either I lash out to establish my pride or have an overabundance of attachment for people I barely know. I got that from father. He can make friends with anyone.

“Do you have any work for me today, Mr. Shelby?”

“You’ve done enough this week. Take a day off.”

He doesn’t mean just housework. Throughout the week Polly’s been showing me the ropes of banking and record keeping for the Peaky Blinders. Thank God I’m halfway decent at basic math or I’d be sunk, though I do admit having to shift to British currency is a tricky reminder.

“Thank you, sir.”

I know exactly what I’m doing for my day off. After Thomas leaves for Lord knows what business I finish prepping the bread and set it out to rise before leaving the house myself. Thankfully Campbell’s been keeping out of my hair and bothering Thomas instead so I shouldn’t have any predicaments pop up.

The church is one of the only places here I can find a sense of peace. The afternoon sun glinting through the clouds casts warm shadows through the stained glass windows. The only offsetting about this scene is the person I spot in the back of the pews. Never once have I pictured Arthur Shelby as a religious man.

“You come here too?” I ask as I approach him and sit in the aisle across.

Arthur glares down at me. “You think I’m out of place?”

I shake my head to show no hostility. “Everyone is welcomed in the house of God. I just never expected you to walk in. Something wrong?”

He grunts and looks away. “Private stuff. You’re just the help.”

“I am. But that doesn’t mean my job defines me as a person. We don’t have to talk about what’s wrong, I’m just here if anyone feels like talking.”

With that I leave him to be with his thoughts and kneel to pray. Lord, these are good people who happen to be faced with rough situations. If you could please allow them just a brief peace of mind I would be most grateful-

“I still don’t know how you got Tommy to trust you.”

I look up at the oldest Shelby brother. His face has changed to one of a tired man, one who’s worn down.

“People keep asking me questions that I don’t know the answers to. All about Ada, the Black Swan Paddy, something about guns and the BSA.”

Ada I understand. As for the other two I haven’t heard a thing about them. Obviously the Paddy wasn’t a member of Uncle Colon’s family or else I would recognize him.

“Your family has a strong role in this community. That is an honorable position but also one that comes with high responsibility. You probably expect me to say some nonsense about ‘good things come to those who wait’ and all that. That can be true. But between you and your brothers I know you’re not patient enough to wait. So I will say this: no one has the answers for everything, Mr. Shelby. Try as we might there are always unanswered questions. To some that might seem scary, but I like to think of it as a chance to put faith in God. Whatever the plan is, I can’t control it. Neither of us can. So only worry about the small things you can control now.” I stand up and gesture to the church. “Can you do anything about suppressing rumors right here, right now?”

Arthur slumps in his seat. “No.”

“Then don’t stress over it. I know that won’t help much but mind tricks have a way of improving tricky circumstances.”

A few moments go by as Arthur thinks through my advice. Honestly I don’t even know where all of this wisdom is suddenly pouring from me. Sometimes my brothers say that just because I’m the youngest doesn’t mean they’re smarter. Not by a long shot. But what sense does it make for a random American woman to have to teach such things to criminal gangsters?

“You seem to have a lot of hope,” Arthur says after a while.

The hint of a smile at the corners of his mustache is payment enough. “Even in this gloomy place, there is always a sliver of hope if one is willing to look hard enough, Mr. Shelby.”

“You know, you’re alright, Steenstra. Suppose I pegged you as any other loud-mouth ditsy broad that skips across the pond.”

My own smile tugs at my lips though I do well to suppress my joy. There. Now all of my employers don’t hate me. 

“Hello.”

Arthur and I both glance over at Thomas, who’s standing in the doorway.

“Never expected you two to become chummy.”

My eyes narrow in consideration. “The Lord works in mysterious ways.”

Thomas lets out a grunt and goes on to sit next to Arthur. “Well on that note, I’m here to talk to my brother. So would you mind…?”

“Not in the slightest.” I stand up and give a nod to Arthur. “Feel better, Mr. Shelby.”

Thomas’ nose scrunches. “I’m fine.”

“I wasn’t talking to you,” I reply and pivot to walk back down the aisle. Have I forgotten his temper tantrum? No I have not. 

For the rest of my day off I finish baking my bread and even a few batches of cookies for John. Once that’s done I decide to try and find a park of sorts. 

“There’s a small patch of grass that’s considered a park on the other side of town,” Polly says when I ask her. “Though keep your wits about. There’s trouble there for unescorted women.”

I flash her the pistol tucked into my skirt. “That’s why I'm bringing this little helper.”

“Smart girl.”

It’s been nearly a month since the Shelbys have taken me in. Whenever I ask Polly about my debt toll she never gives me a straight answer. Part of me is starting to suspect she doesn't want me to leave so soon. Between Thomas and Ada’s words of praise I’m beginning to think me being stuck here is a blessing in disguise. Over the past weeks I’ve gotten a feel of the land so Polly’s directions steer me right to my destination. And she’s right. This is no park. This place makes Central Park look like the Smoky Mountains! But a walk in the park is a walk in the… patch of grass? Whatever. I’m outside, that’s what counts.

“Polly said you’d be here,” a voice calls from behind.

Is Thomas stalking me? Jesus, is being his go-to for venting make him this- this… watchful? Does he think I’ll tell someone?

“Come to scorn me for doing what you can’t?” When Thomas cocks his head in confusion I fill in the blanks. “Me helping your brother?”

He pats my shoulder and pulls out a cigarette. “I told him not to worry.”

That’s it? “You know you can’t just slap a bandaid on something like this and expect people to be ok. Your brother’s been through a lot, as have you. Nobody should go on keeping secrets in their own family.”

“I made up for it,” Thomas replies lazily. “I bought him a pub. He seemed excited.”

A pub? That’s wonderful! A distraction is just what Arthur needs. If he’s as excited as Thomas says, this will be good for both him and the Peaky Blinders.

I stop walking and look up at Thomas with a bewildered smile. “Just when I think all emotion has been drained out of you, you still surprise me, Thomas.”

He squints. “You call me that. I notice you haven’t been addressing me as ‘Mr. Shelby.’”

“You said we were on a first name basis,” I shrug. “Would you rather I return to calling you Mr. Shelby? It’s kind of confusing when there’s four of you.”

“Oh no, love. A first-name basis is just fine.”

[pink-tk-a-latte]

Fish in the Pool

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆝⋆.˚ 𓇼⋆ ｡𖦹 ⋆｡°𓆉✮⋆⭒𓆟⋆｡˚𖦹𓆜✩⋆𓇼

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO KOKOMI!!!!!!!! My favoritest character ever!!!!! Fun fact her bday is the same day as one of my friends and the girl I have a crush on kinda and her twin brother which is pretty wacky. Anyway take this lovely fic bc she (plus most of the Genshin women let’s be honest) needs more content /lh!!!!!

(Also happy late bday to Hitori Gotoh aka Bocchi!!!!!!!!!!! I’m so sorry I love Bocchi the Rock sm it may be my favorite anime but it’s hard to write for rn 😭😭)

“

Painfully professional and introverted to the end, Kokomi spends her birthday alone, even when her devotees conspire to give her the day off. That is, until the Guuji Yae, with her impeccable and enigmatic ability to read people’s hearts, arrives.

”

Tickle fic!! Lee!Kokomi, Ler!Yae Miko (platonic, or whatever you prefer). I had to write this fast, and in the dark, and without my glasses lmao, but it’s all for my best girl!!!!

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆝⋆.˚ 𓇼⋆ ｡𖦹 ⋆｡°𓆉✮⋆⭒𓆟⋆｡˚𖦹𓆜✩⋆𓇼

Kokomi was not the type of person who should have been the Divine Priestess.

Sure, she could contrive for victory with minimal casualties, negotiate peace with a fearsome god, keep the economy of Watatsumi afloat (ha, fish pun), and memorize the faces of all its inhabitants, but it was the workload and the public image upkeep that left her drained and achey at the end of the day. Lately, she hadn’t even been able to get through a chapter of her book without falling asleep in the middle. And it always ended up as wasted effort because she could never remember what she’d read.

So it was only a minor surprise that, on the one day of the year where she should get a break, her soldiers and priestesses did everything in their power to give her one.

She’d issued directives on what should happen if she needed to step away for a full day, but she’d never seriously intended to use them for something as trivial as her birthday. They were only for important overseas meetings and such matters!

Yet, Gorou had clandestinely arranged for him, the priestesses, and the rest of the army to take over for Madame Sangonomiya so she could have her day of rest. All without her knowledge — and only mild suspicion.

Kokomi was endlessly grateful and majorly anxious, but Gorou reassured her that everything would go smoothly.

“It’s only for one day! Besides, since the war is over and everything is settling down, we don’t have as much to manage,” Gorou yipped with a canine-filled smile. “So rest, Your Excellency. And have a happy birthday!”

“Thank you, General. You don’t know how much this means to me.” Kokomi smiled, eyes liquid, which instantly flustered Gorou as he tried to prevent her from crying. Then they sent her off with a huge cake and congratulations.

And, Kokomi was… alone. As she blew out her candles, she blew also a chill into her bedroom. No one there to sing. No one there to cheer. No one to touch.

That was another thing: Kokomi was not the type of person to have many friends.

Most people spent their birthdays with family or friends, didn’t they? Yet, where were hers? Occupied, either running her island or off on their own. All she had were her books and the pop of the jellyfish droplets that floated about the island to keep her company.

Kokomi pulled her fingers through frazzled salmon-to-periwinkle hair. She curled into herself on her bed, and her Hydro fish pressed into her skin where she wished another source of warmth could. Her searching stare found her window.

Maybe… she should go out to the sea.

Kokomi fixed her hair and trotted downstairs. Everything was pink and made of seashell, pearls, or coral. But there was one addition to her living room that was, while still pink, made of fur instead.

Kokomi gasped.

Yae Miko, her pen pal, lounged on her satin couch and toyed with the jellyfish lamp on the table next to her. She turned to regard Kokomi with a satisfied grin. Kokomi narrowed her eyes at the vixen, even while her heart leapt.

“‘Fried Tofu with All the Frills,’” she called, “how did you get into my house?”

“Did you forget? My connections are infinite. I’m impossible to hide from.” Yae chuckled. “And I could never miss our precious Priestess’ special day, now could I? Especially since you seem to be all alone.” Her voice pouted with her, a tone Kokomi knew all too well. “I can practically see the tears falling from your big, blue eyes.”

Kokomi did not wipe her eyes with her sleeve, because she knew better. “I’m surprised the cold-hearted Lady Yae would put in the work to come all the way over here. Especially since she’s always so focused on stealing my general,” she jabbed back.

“Possessive, are we?” They both glared. Then they fell into laughter as Kokomi fully descended. She floated into the kitchen for a kettle and a pair of teacups.

“Tea, my lady?”

“Oh, no. I couldn’t ask you to lift a finger on your special day. I insist.” Yae ushered Kokomi away from the stove and took the dishes from her hands, already holding a bundle of sakura leaves. Kokomi looked at her in surprise.

“Well, thank you, Lady Yae.”

A moment later, Miko and Kokomi were on the couch again, catching up and discussing the latest Yae Publishing House novel. Leaning against a pillow, Kokomi was effervescing about The Legend of Sword again, which Miko was so sick of hearing about, and Kokomi was, honestly, starting to drift off when—

Yae’s claw-like nails fanned over her knee, a shiver that tore straight up to her brain. Kokomi yelped and immediately covered her mouth.

“Don’t fall asleep on me now. And, my my, what was that adorable sound?” Her near purr was anything but quizzical. “Was it… because of this?”

Again, Yae scribbled over her knee and was met with an almost-giggle and a kick. She tutted.

“You’re always so jumpy when I come near.” Speaking slowly, she met Kokomi’s prey-round eyes with a simper. “Could it be that you’re not used to touch like this? You must not be, always buried in your books. Even on your birthday.” With each word, her nails inched farther up Kokomi’s leg.

Kokomi squeezed her eyes shut and pulled away. “Wahahait, Yahahae!”

“You must’ve wanted this, right? I could tell from the beginning.” Yae shifted closer, skating her nails under Kokomi’s chin. She inhaled. “Well, then, allow me,” said Yae. “Consider it my gift to you.”

Yae’s fingers traced the tops of Kokomi’s thighs. She pulled her closer by her wrists, sitting on her shins. Kokomi buried her face in the pillow under her.

“STAhahahap! It tihihickles!” Giggles rose out of her like bubbles.

“Does it? How shocking.” Yae’s Electro tazed her nerves. Jumping, Kokomi squeaked.

“EHEHaha thahahat’s unfahahahair!”

“Come now, you should be familiar enough with the policies of war.”

She was right. Maybe Kokomi could have tried to strategize her way out of this, but in all practicality, she was trapped. And maybe she wanted to be.

Licking her chops, Yae dug into Kokomi’s hosiery-clad flesh. She squealed and gripped the pillow and shook her head until her hair was mussed.

“THIHIhis is so undihiHIHIgnified AHAHa nohoHO!” her shrill voice pleaded.

“And?” Yae laughed. “Who are you to be embarrassed of? Me? I already don’t revere you nearly as much as that fluffy dog child does.”

“Hehehe’s my GEHENeraHAL!” Kokomi screamed as Yae found her hips, disregarding the loose fabric that flowed around her. The fox traced circles around her bones, pinched and prodded at her soft pudge, flicked her nails over shivering muscles. Kokomi found herself flat on her back, shadowed by the predator that was Yae Miko.

“I can’t neglect this little one, can I?” Miko rested the points of her nails on the pocket of Kokomi’s abdomen, rising and falling with breaths and laughter. Her shuddery giggles answered. Tactically, she sucked in her stomach wherever Yae’s fingers hovered.

“Ehehehe nahahat THEHEHEHERE!” Kokomi hiccuped and squealed again while Yae squeezed her sides and scratched the ridges of her navel. Her hands flew to defend from Miko’s weapons of choice, but defeat was imminent. “AWAHAHA ohohoKAHAY! CeheheHEHEASE!”

At that divinely ordained moment, a wheezing and whistling that did not belong to Kokomi could be heard from the kitchen. Sighing as if disappointed, Yae halted her attack and slipped off the couch to the sakura tea. Kokomi curled around the pillow and buried the remnants of her tears and laughter in it.

“Youhohu’re a cruhuel mistress…” Kokomi breathed as Miko returned. She peeked up from her pillow and accepted the offered cup of tea. “Thank you. For keeping me company.”

Yae laughed in the way she always did, a laugh that betrayed nothing, but Kokomi thought she could read the sincerity between the lines. “Why of course. Anything for a forlorn, needy little pet.” Their teacups clinked. Miko smiled sharply at her through the steam. “Happy Birthday to you.”

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆝⋆.˚ 𓇼⋆ ｡𖦹 ⋆｡°𓆉✮⋆⭒𓆟⋆｡˚𖦹𓆜✩⋆𓇼

I love Kokomi bc she was my first five-star and she’s the prettiest and she’s so sweet and I kin her but she’s also powerful and intelligent and she’s pink and ocean-themed and just eepy and a bookworm and she was so underrated and I want her to have more lore and her name and she’s jst so CUTE and dragon and war and—

[montywithchildhoodtrauma]

Incorrect quotes because... I have no clue at this point.

Sun: Foxy, I think we have a problem. Foxy: What, the fire? Sun: No, the- wait, what fire? Foxy: Oh forget about it, this sounds more interesting.

Ruin: Any questions? Sun: Uh, yeah, WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT? Ruin: Uh, a plan, duh… Moon: Sun, chill, I know it’s weird, but Ruin has a point. Sun: Sun: THAT WAS LITERALLY A PONY DOODLE WITH A HAT!!

Lunar, texting Monty: Any plans for tonight? Monty: No. Lunar: Loser.

Sun: Okay, how do I look? Be honest. Foxy: There’s no critic more honest than Monty! Monty: Bad.

Castor: We’ll find another route, it’s not safe for amateur adventurers. Pollux: That sounds like a challenge. Castor: I have to stress, that is not a challenge. Pollux: …Is exactly what you say to dissuade the weak of heart from accepting the challenge. Well, challenge accepted! Castor: There is no challenge!

Lunar: Are you busy? Solar: Yes. Lunar: Cool, listen to this…

Monty: When I was your age- Ruin, mocking Monty: When I was your height. Monty: Monty: Listen here you little shit-

Gemini: Sorry I can’t be emotionally vulnerable with you it’d ruin the mystery.

Solar: Hey. Sun: pissed off You… complete …ASS, Solar! You show up here after WEEKS, and you say “hey”?!

Solar: I give up. I am so tired. Ruin: Get the emergency supply! Moon: carries Lunar and places them in front of Solar. Lunar: smiles Solar: AND I AM BACK BABY, LET’S GOOO

Sun: I know this isn’t going to end well and I don’t care. So don’t you try and stop me, Solar! Solar: I wasn’t stopping you. I was asking if you had a spare camera so I can record this.

Solar: Present your best argument for eating bacon. Monty: If animals don’t want to be eaten, then why are they made of food?

Castor: Do you know the best way to respond to disagreement? Lunar: With tears? Castor: No. Lunar: tears up

Ruin: So I can either do something dumb that could very well get me injured or I can listen to Solar and not do the thing, Ruin: Well there’s a clear right answer here. Ruin: proceeds to throw five packs of mentos into a barrel full of diet coke

Castor: But seriously, what is the real plan here that has to do with not fucking around? Lunar: There is no plan that does not involve fucking around. But we will make sure all of our fucking around will be applied in a constructive direction.

Cop: You ran a red light. Monty: So did you, hypocrite. Cop: I was following you. Monty: That was dumb, I'm a terrible driver. Cop: Get out.

Castor: I’ve only had Lunar for a day and a half but if anything happened to them I would kill everyone in this room and then myself.

Lunar: You’re drunk. Solar: Correction: drinking. Present tense. Grammar, Lunar.

Ruin: Do you have a self-care routine? Monty: "Keep going bitch" said to myself in different accents.

Monty: Working sucks. Monty: I want to be a malewife where my only responsibilities are being sexy and cute.

Solar: So what’s for dinner? Ruin: I can’t tell you, it’s a soup-prise! Solar: … Solar: Is it soup? Ruin: I soup-pose it could be! winks Solar: Please, enough with the soup puns! Ruin: Wow, you’re soup-per mean. Solar: STOP! one hour later Solar: It’s fucking tacos?!?!?!

Something crashes Earth: Shoot- Monty: running into the room in a panic WHAT FELL?! Castor: walking by the room calmly What died?

Moon: I called you like ten times! Why didn’t you pick up? Ruin: remembers dancing to the ringtone Ruin: I didn’t hear it.

Foxy: The waiter at Olive Garden has been grating my cheese for 6 hours now, waiting for me to say when. Customers are screaming. Three people have died. Foxy: I will not yield.

Lunar, to someone that angered them: Holds two middle fingers Castor: Can’t say I’m surprised… Solar: Yeah, flip em off, Lunar! Pollux, confused: Holds one middle finger Castor and Solar, both very distressed: NOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Castor: hi. Solar: Leave before there is a terrible misunderstanding with my foot and your ass.

Pollux: Standing next to sunflowers always makes me feel weak like ‘look at this fucking flower. This flower is taller than I am. This flower is winning and I’m losing.’ Sun: Wow, you are not ready to hear about trees.

[stevesbestgirl]

20/20

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x GN!Little!Reader

1163 Words

Warnings: a few swears, marijuana use (reader smokes), accidental regression, mention of nightmares

A/N: Week 8 of the D20 Writing Event! So, I’m a dirty liar. I had something almost finished for this, but I decided I didn’t like it and started from scratch. Sorry it’s so late, but here it is! I really like how it came out, so I hope you all enjoy! Also, this roll is quite possibly the best of my life- in all my years of playing D&D, I’ve never rolled two nat (pun intended) 20′s at once and I’m a little mad I did it for this, but I had fun writing it, so I can’t complain too much. (I know the dice are on the wrong side, but it didn’t matter, so don’t @me)

“We’re in luck,” Natasha flashed the room key at you as she opened the trunk of the car.

“They had space for us?” You pushed off your place leaning on the passenger side and grabbed your own bag from the trunk.

“Just enough. Looks like we’re bunking together.”

“Sharing a room?” 

“Sharing a bed. They only had a double.” Natasha was matter-of-fact, unbothered by that fact. But your heart sank; so much for cutting loose tonight. You couldn’t exactly regress and relax with Nat around. She glanced at you after a few moments of silence, “That alright? I figured you wouldn’t mind- not like I’m Steve or Barnes.”

“No,” you shook your head, “No, that’s fine.” You hefted your bag over your shoulder and followed her inside. 

Once inside the room, you dropped your bag on the chair, “Go ahead and take the first shower, Nat. I’m gonna chill out for a minute.”

“Thanks, lovey. Be out in a few.” Natasha’s casual term of endearment was enough to make your heart skip. 

Once she disappeared into the bathroom, you grabbed the keycard from the bedside table and the little box you kept in your bag. Out in the hallway, you pinched a joint between your lips while you dug for your lighter. Leaning on the railing, you lit the tip, closing your eyes and taking a deep drag; this would have to do for tonight. 

You smoked half; too much and you would get a little too relaxed. You slipped back inside as Natasha left the bathroom, toweling her hair dry. 

She wrinkled her nose, laughing, “Y’know, I’m not sure that’s legal in this state.”

“Not sure what you mean,” you smirked, tucking your box away. “Must be a skunk outside or somethin’. I’m an upstanding citizen, a public servant- I would never be tempted by the devil’s lettuce.” 

Natasha snorted a laugh, drawing a giggle from you; your mind was growing pleasantly foggy. The weight from a long day was sliding off your shoulders. “You’d better go shower off that skunk smell if we’re sharing this bed. I can’t be getting a contact high; one of us has to keep a clear head.”

You offered a wry smile; you felt a little guilty leaving that burden with Nat, but you just didn’t have it in you tonight. You showered, the warm water relieving the rest of the tension in your shoulders. By the time you stepped out, dressed in a pair of sweats and a tee-shirt, you felt pleasantly fuzzy, ready to crash. The sooner you slept, the sooner you could get home.

Natasha had already claimed her side of the bed- the side closest to the door, you noticed. That little detail was another reason to relax; you knew you were the most junior member of the team, but Nat always made sure you were covered. She seemed to think of everything; you knew you were just as safe with her as you would be with Steve or Thor. 

She glanced up from her book, “Feeling better?”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “Wait, what do you mean?” You hadn’t mentioned feeling overwhelmed.

“You seemed stressed.”

Of course she noticed. “Yeah, guess I was. Thanks.”

She half-smiled, patting the bed, “Well, hop in, snuggle up. We’ll wanna head out early tomorrow.”

“Careful what you’re offering,” you chuckled, hoping she didn’t notice the flush in your face, “You’ll wake up in the middle of night to me clinging to you.”

“Better you than Tony,” she grinned.

You climbed in on your side, taking care to give Nat her space, “Good night. And thanks for covering my ass today.”

“Anytime, lovey. Night.” She marked her place in her book and set it on the nightstand before flipping off the desk lap. 

The affectionate nickname made your breath catch the second time around; you hoped Nat didn’t notice. Laying next to her, knowing she was keeping you safe, even while you slept, it tugged at the edges of your consciousness, pulling you under. You hadn’t wanted to regress around Nat, but if you were just going to sleep, it couldn’t hurt. You clutched the blanket close to your face, covering the way your thumb drifted to your mouth. 

Your breathing grew deep and even until you fell asleep, finally feeling relaxed and safe. But the day’s stress wasn’t quite finished with you yet, nightmares slinking into your dreams, corrupting the peace you’d found there. Still asleep, a soft whimper escaped your lips, rousing Natasha. She fumbled for the lamp, trying to locate the threat and finding the room empty. 

She peered over at you as you made another fearful noise, realizing you were having a bad dream. She gently brushed her hand over your shoulder, “Lovey, it’s alright. Wake up.” When you didn’t wake, she tugged the blanket down from your face, pausing at the sight of your thumb slackly held between your lips. At that, she blinked in surprise, green eyes scanning your face; how had she never noticed before? 

She didn’t want to wake you; you would be embarrassed and you’d never go back to sleep then. So she flipped the lamp back off, cuddling close and wrapping an arm around your waist to provide some comfort. The way your shoulders trembled made her heart ache; she wanted to fix whatever was wrong. 

You murmured something she couldn’t make out, so she urged in a whisper, “What’s the matter, little dove? Tell me.”

“M-Mommy,” you whined, fidgeting under the weight of her arm and stirring slightly. Another whine slipped out and your eyes fluttered open, suddenly aware of the weight on your side, “Wha-” Your mind was hazy, both from sleep and the weed, half-conscious and partially regressed.

“Hey,” Natasha cooed, shushing you softly. “I’m here, lovey. Go back to sleep.” 

“But-” You were reeling, unsure if this was real or if you were still dreaming. 

“Mommy’s got you,” she said, brushing her hand over your arm.

With a sleepy groan, you rolled over to face her, tucking your head under her chin and allowing her to hold you closer. 

She rubbed your back, whispering, “There’s my good little dove. You’re safe.” She murmured praises and encouragement until your breathing grew even again, chuckling softly to herself once you were asleep again, “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you, little one?”

You woke the next morning to Natasha’s urging, “Time to get up, lovey. We’ve got to get going soon.” It wasn’t until you felt her fingers tracing circles between your shoulder blades that you remembered the dreamlike scene from the night before.

“Oh, shit.”

Natasha’s voice had a little edge to it, “None of that now. We don’t talk like that.”

You pulled back to meet her gaze, face hot with embarrassment, “Sorry.”

She cupped your chin with a finger, “You’re gonna behave for me, aren’t you dovey?”

She was gazing at you expectantly, a soft smile gracing her lips, and you felt yourself nod.

[phantomrose96]

Joyrider

(Welcome to another warm-up writing piece. cw for mild body horror)

...

The mall food court doubled rather nicely as a battle-dome.

It fit the bill: a flat and circular arena, crowned two-stories up by a hemisphere of glass windows which lapsed iridescent in the maelstrom of ecto-fire.

Spectator chairs sat empty, hastily shoved back and knocked over by the Amity Park mall patrons who knew to leg it at the first sound of explosions and the first sign of the atmosphere tipping dark. Admittedly, the patron evacuation took longer than Danny anticipated, and he backed himself into a corner playing defense for the 50 some-odd people who, worn-out on the every-day mundanity of ghost alarms, took their time gathering belongings, or shutting off burners, or working in a few last bites of a burger.

So with the crowd gone and the stage their own, Danny found himself pressed back against a vat of french fry oil, hands braced against the handle of a broom he held out horizontally, which the ghost gripped with equal measure and shoved her full weight against.

“Oh, why not take a little dip, Ghost Boy? I hear the water’s nice.”

“No thanks,” Danny answered, shoving harder. “I never was much of a hot tub guy. You on the other hand—”

Danny set a foot forward and pivoted, body fueling the torque as he spun the broom, and tore the ghost with him, a pirouette to swap their spots and jam the ghost back-pressed to the fryer.

“—you seem like you’d like it hot.”

The ghost barked a laugh, jaw stretching lower and loose than Danny was comfortable with.

“Ha! You sure? Not very heroic of you to deep fry this girl I’m possessing.”

Danny faltered. His grip slipped. His blood chilled to ice as the information clicked in place – as he recognized the sensation of a ghost talking through someone. This wasn’t the ghost’s own form. This was some girl. How had he not felt—

A blast took him by the ribs. Danny doubled over, immediately kicked back. A foot found contact with his face, driving him down, until the girl’s wet and slippery fingers pinned him down by the wrists.

Danny strained. He could pivot his wrist a fraction of an inch left or right, but he could not break the hold.

“Get off me!”

And a voice answered from behind him.

“I can help with that.”

Danny craned his neck. Upside down, vantage point from the floor, he registered Sam’s combat boots slam into focus. She bent to one knee, a bazooka locked on the other. It charged, whined, and erupted with an explosion of green light.

The ghost shrieked. It took only an instant of resistance before the ghost tore cleanly from the girl possessed.

“Now if you don’t mind me—” Tucker, by the voice. Danny heard the whine of a Fenton Thermos heating up. “—I’d officially like to change my order from fries to soup.”

The beam burst forth, and the writhing, shrieking, yelping form of the exorcised ghost clawed and scratched in Danny’s direction before the thermos consumed her in full.

“Really? ‘Fries to soup’? Even Danny can do better than that.”

“Hey,” Danny answered.

“I was thinking on my feet, Sam. I didn’t hear any witty quips from you.”

The conversation fell away from Danny’s focus as the full human weight of the possessed girl dropped down on him. Gently, Danny gripped her by the shoulder, lifting her as he pushed himself into a sitting position.

“Your parents’ anti-possession gear is getting good. I don’t think I’ve seen an exorcism work that quickly.” Sam’s voice, now at his side. Danny glanced over, finding her kneeling beside him. “Is she hurt?”

Danny gave the girl a once-over. She was pale, cold, lips seeping blue. A mottled, blackish bruise spread across her temple, partially hidden beneath loose red bangs.

“I don’t… totally know. I didn’t land any hits on her, thankfully. But who knows what that ghost might have done. We should call an ambulance.”

“On it,” Tucker, from behind.

“Do you… do you think the bazooka might have hurt her?” Sam asked.

Danny shook his head. “Mom and Dad have blasted each other with that thing a hundred times. Dad got himself possessed by the box ghost for a trial run. It doesn’t hurt people. …Maybe she just needs a minute.”

“Lay her down, maybe?”

“Good idea.”

Danny eased forward, careful in his movements. Something about his grip slipped, sliding loose and rolling forward, and she fell unceremoniously from his arms, shoulder knocking ground as she lay there partially turned on her side.

“Danny!”

“Sorry! I didn’t—something slipped!”

“Well don’t leave her like—” Sam gripped a hand to the girl’s shoulder, weight behind her wrist to roll the girl fully onto her back. Sam’s hand froze, and then yanked away.

“What?” Danny asked.

“That didn’t feel right.” Sam only stared down, her hand hovering, twitching in increments. “Way too cold… and loose.”

“Loose?”

“Danny, look at her hands. What’s wrong with her hands?”

Danny looked. The skin stretched and wrapped the bones of her fingers as if rotated partway around. Her fingernails sat off-center, twisted around and bunched up like a glove. Sam’s hand came back into view, and she clamped it to the girl’s wrist.

“It’s like jelly. Danny it’s like jelly. Why is she this cold? Danny, I don’t think she’s—”

Something new caught Danny’s eye, a purple discoloration peeking out from the bottom ruffles of the girl’s shirt. His hands seemed to move on their own as he reached down, and pinched the bottom of her shirt, and pulled it back.

Black bruising consumed her torso, caving deep and bloating, pruning around the trails of heavy stitching that ran along the tracks of surgical cuts carving through her abdomen.

Danny yanked his hand away as if burned.

“Danny, she’s not breathing.”

The rest of Danny’s thoughts drowned in the swelling wail of the approaching ambulance siren.

…

Outside the Fenton Portal, green lighting doused the only part of Danny’s form not hidden in shadow, and danced with the fire of his glowing green eyes. Danny uncapped the thermos in his hand, and he trailed his thumb along the eject switch.

A new consuming green light belted forth, lasting only a moment until it vanished with a twin-braided ghost in its wake. The ghost blinked, smoothing over her hair and pulling the ends of her braids over her shoulders.

“Oh, it’s the Ghost Boy again. I thought you’d just throw me back in the Ghost Zone. Are you interested in a round 2?”

“No, not interested,” Danny answered, tone colder than ice.

“Yeesh, you’re quite sour. No more puns?”

“Why were you possessing that girl?”

“Hmm?”

“Why were you possessing her?”

The ghost blinked, green portal light mixing murkily with her purple eyes. “No particular reason. It was just a joyride.”

“A joyr—she was dead.”

Another blink. “Yeah I know. She was sitting in the morgue. She was in like a car crash or something and they already took all her organs. They didn’t need her. And I was gonna give her back, but you had to go and make it a whole thing.” The girl swooped forward, eyes wide and roving over Danny. “You seem mad. Wanna call a truce?” She stuck a hand forward. “I’m Melissa, by the way.”

Danny jolted, eyes flashing brighter. “No, you’re not. That girl was Melissa.”

“Oh for real?” Melissa let out a chuckle. “Crazy coincidence. I like don’t even know that many Melissas. Anyway truce?”

“No.” Danny ran his fingers through his hair. “You were possessing the body of a dead girl and you made me fight her! Don’t you see how that’s—that’s so—how fucked up—that you’d even—”

“Well I mean, I didn’t make you fight me. You made that happen. I was minding my business.”

“Doing what?”

“Shopping. Why else would I take a body for a joyride? I stole some cute clothes to wear. Stole some food to eat. Oh! That outfit I was wearing when we were fighting? Yeah I picked that out. She was in like a hospital gown when I found her. Super cute improvement right?”

An ectoblast sounded and connected with the wall behind Melissa, missing her a foot to the right. Danny’s hand glowed, and his eyes focused with a razor sharpness.

“Stop talking like that, okay? It’s pissing me off. I need you to tell me you know this was fucked up.”

Melissa put a finger to her chin. “I mean I guess stealing is kinda wrong. They were all like, big box corporate stores don’t worry.”

“The. Dead. Body.”

And Melissa fell silent a moment, violet eyes probing deep into Danny’s before widening. “Oh. Oh you’re like for-real mad about that. Like actually. I thought you were like, making an ironic joke.”

“Why the hell would I be joking about this??”

Melissa cocked her head to the side. “Well because you’re doing it too, duh. Like, duh.”

A huff of air cut against Danny’s teeth, an involuntary noise, incredulous, a guffaw he didn’t consciously make. The jelly sensation of decomposing flesh was back under his fingers. “I am not—would never—I’ve never even seen a dead body before this thing with you and I’d never in a million years even think for even a fucking second that I’d want to possess a dead body. What’s wrong with you?!”

Melissa bobbed a little in the air, ends of her braids trailing over the straps of her ephemeral sundress. “See this is why I really can’t tell if you’re joking or not. What are you talking about? You’re doing it right now.” She clasped her hands behind her back. “The black-haired boy whose corpse you’re possessing. Why are you allowed to do it?”

Danny froze. He laughed, heavy, with an uncomfortable force. “Myself, you mean? I’m not possessing myself. I am myself. I’m a half-ghost.”

Melissa met his laugh. “Oh what? No way like, that’s your own corpse? How’d you even get back to it in time? That’s crazy lucky like you must have died right near a portal or something.”

An involuntary shiver traced down Danny’s spine.

“…I’m not dead.” His eyes shifted around, and Danny dropped to the floor. He set a hand against the wall, throwing on the lights to the Fenton basement. Rings swept around his form, green iridescent eyes sweeping blue, white hair seeping black. “Look. Literally look at me. I’m not dead.”

And Melissa swooped closer. She set a finger to her bottom lip and hovered a foot in front of Danny, drinking him in. She swept to the side, like a swimmer in the water, sweeping around him in a full arc. She edged closer and pinched her fingers against the exposed skin on Danny’s arm. He flinched.

“Oh wow there’s like, not even any decay or anything. Your human brain even feels like it’s working it’s all like, electro-magnety. How long were you dead before you got back to your body?”

“I didn’t die.”

“Then what did happen?”

“I got shocked by the Fenton Portal, okay? It was just a lab accident and it gave me powers.”

“Oh. Oh.” Melissa’s eyes shot wide. “Oh you didn’t die near a portal… You died in a portal. You didn’t even have to get back to find your body at all. You must have appeared like practically on top of your own body. That’s crazy lucky. That’s so lucky. Your body was like, probably only dead a microsecond before you hopped back in. No wonder it’s so well-preserved.”

Danny swatted her away. “You’re not listening to me.”

“You’re not listening to me.” Melissa floated backwards. “What do you think is more likely? A bajillion ecto-volts somehow gave you superpowers that exactly mirror everything a regular dead ghost can do? …Or you died, and became a regular old ghost, and did what any regular old ghost can do, which is possess a freshly-dead dead body?”

“…I’m half-ghost,” Danny answered, human heart pounding in his chest. “I know what I am.”

Melissa bobbed back, feet pointed backwards until the soles of her feet skimmed the matrix of the portal. “I see you’ve made up your mind. That’s alright. But it was still pretty mean of you to accuse me like a big hypocrite like that.”

“I’ll destroy you if you ever try that again.”

“Oh I’ll try asking permission next time okay? Promise.” Melissa’s feet sank into the surface of the portal. “But, before I go, I’ve just got one more question to leave you with.”

“Go.”

“Why should a lethal accident do anything other than kill you?”

“Go.”

“Maybe you’ll have an answer for me next time I see you. Byeee!”

A spark of white erupted from the portal, consuming, absorbing, and fizzling out as Melissa’s form vanished into the ether beyond.

…

“Hey! Yo! Danny, come check this out!”

Danny rounded the stairs, unsocked feet creaking the floorboards with each step. Danny yawned, and blinked, and rubbed at his bruised eyes with the sleeve of his pajama top.

“Still asleep? That’s fine! You don’t have to do anything. Just come over here and look at what your old pop’s been up to.”

Danny entered the living room, where Jack sat hunched on the couch surrounded by an arsenal of power tools, rags, oil, soldering equipment, and scrap metal. From beside him he hefted a bazooka into view.

“This is the Fentonzooka 3.2.17. Amped up and equipped with all the latest in ghost-busting and human-saving technology.”

Danny blinked. “3.2.17?”

“Yep. This baby’s got 17 bug patches, tweaks, and internal improvements since the 3.2.0. The 3.2.0 was the advent of the snack compartment in the side. Look!” Jack spun a dial, revealing a chamber half-filled with pistachios.

Danny only stared.

Jack hefted the bazooka onto his shoulder. “Even better, Mads and I finally got rid of the last little sting humans feel when it’s fired. It’s now completely 100% harmless to humans. It feels like the breeze from a standing fan when it hits ya.” Jack turned, and he aimed the barrel at Danny. “Wanna try it out?”

Danny stood, and Danny stared, and Danny said nothing.

What might happen when it hit him?

Would it hit like the gentle breeze of a fan? Wash over him like air conditioning? Tingle cool and pleasant against his human fingers, human face, human skin?

Would it do something else?

Why should a lethal accident do anything other than kill you?

Jack eased the bazooka a bit off center, pulling his eyes away from the sight. He stared directly at Danny. “Danny?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to try it out?”

Danny stood.

Danny stared.

Danny wondered if he’d have an answer for Melissa the next time he saw her.

[sergiovinazzi]

Stolen - Lando Norris x Reader (Chapter Two)

2.9k words, rated E for everyone :)

Lando’s voice, amplified by the TV speakers, echoes around the humming Red Bull garage. “I’m fine but I’ve been better. I can say that I’m not in perfect condition, I’m not gonna lie. Some work to do mentally of course. I talk about that a lot, and mental health and mental strength is very important. I’ve not been sleeping that great and so on… not ideal and I’m feeling a bit sore, but I’m not the guy in the worst position after Wembley. I’ll work on it, I’ll make sure I’m in the best shape possible, and I feel like I can still go out and focus on what I need to do, and that’s the main thing.”

Your mind races as you listen to the boy plastered across the many screens revisit his experience at Wembley. He sounds awful; something about his cadence making it even more obvious that he is really, truly shaken up. The wavering pitch, awkward pausing, fumbling for words; everything about the way he presents himself is serving as a brutal reminder that being physically unscathed is no indicator that harm was not dealt. Even as the interview moves past the topic of last week’s Euro Final, you notice the shift in demeanor and your heart aches. You worry that bringing the watch to him is a bad idea, that it could prompt unbidden memories and disquieting feelings. You understand how big of an event Silverstone is from your dad’s tangents alone, especially for an English team with an English driver, so you reevaluate whether your decision to come was selfish, one made solely to alleviate your own sentiments of guilt rather than to verily right your believed wrongdoings.

On the journey to Silverstone, your dad had made multiple attempts at lessening your stress, even opting for variations of the if he steps out of line I will put him right back in his place father speech. Unfortunately fruitless, your father’s attempts mean you remain just as anxious as when you had first discovered that you managed to obtain a stolen wristwatch.

You’re not sure whether it’s the crisp morning air or your nerves that sends chills across your flesh, but your attempt to ground yourself subtly doesn’t go unnoticed by your dad as he passes you in the garage.

“Time is ticking,” he informs you, a smirk playing on his lips. “No pun intended.”

You roll your eyes in an attempt to downplay your apprehension, but your voice gives away any and all signs of the false confidence you hope to portray. “Can you do it for me?” you plead.

“I can’t just stroll on over to the McLaren garage without an invitation or proper reason, especially not a couple hours before free practice starts. It doesn’t look good.”

“It’s not like me walking in there instead would look any better,” you retort, gesturing to the Red Bull logo plastered across the chest of your black polo. “Your branding isn’t what I would call subtle.”

“Look, the McLaren team are a good sort. They’ll help you out if you just explain the issue and show them the watch. I’m sure Lando will understand too, he seems like a pretty nice bloke,” your dad reassures you.

Sighing, your eyes meet the floor, fingers intertwined with each other as you fidget incessantly. Before you can speak up in further defiance, however, an additional set of footsteps grow nearer and you freeze at the voice which speaks up.

“Christian, how much longer until our media slot?”

You lose your breath momentarily, locking your gaze onto your shoes as you wait for the person to pass by.

“About five minutes, Max,” your dad replies. “We were just about to head over.”

When you hear the footsteps grow fainter, you risk looking up, thankfully being met with only the observance of your father. You don’t even realize that you’ve tensed your body until your dad points it out.

“Relax,” he says. “He’s not going to say anything here, especially not on a race weekend.”

Nodding, you feel your shoulders ease up but you remain quiet.

“Anyways, like I said, our media briefing and interviews start soon and we’re after McLaren this weekend so they should already be back in their garage,” he says, realizing that you still appear troubled by the task ahead of you. “I promise you, everything will be fine. Just go over there and I’ll meet you back here when we’re done. The quicker you head over, the quicker you’re done with it and we can all move on." With that, your dad walks away and you reluctantly leave the Red Bull garage, adjusting your shirt as you straighten up.

You take a brief glance at your phone, turning it off after you try one last time to keep the picture of the boy imprinted in your mind. Eyes darting rapidly, you attempt to scan the paddock for anyone looking remotely like him while you make your way towards the bright orange and blue indicators of the McLaren garage.

The frequency of orange-clad individuals grows the further you stray from the safety of Red Bull’s garage, and you feel your heartbeat begin to increase. Worried that someone would stop you before you could approach the one person you had traveled all the way to Silverstone for in the first place, you quicken your pace.

You’re mere meters away when you spot him. Pushing past a few people while trying to keep your eyes trained on him, you watch as he turns around to talk briefly with the woman next to him.

Huffing, you muster up the little confidence you have and tap him on the shoulder.

His confusion is evident and the blonde woman next to him does not look pleased to have been interrupted. The silence is palpable as they stare at you, expecting an explanation for the abrupt ending of their conversation.

“Hi,” is all you can deliver. You’re at a loss for words while the woman next to him seems to lose what little patience she has with you. Everything you had rehearsed beforehand, gone. Your mind is foggy and your mouth feels dry as you try to compose yourself. “Um, can I talk to you for a second? It won’t be long, I promise.” Your voice breaks at the end and you wish you had never agreed to get on that stupid red-eye to Silverstone in the first place.

Lando offers a look of sympathy and then turns to the woman next to him. “Charlotte, could you just give us a second?”

Pursing her lips and turning on her heel, the woman walks away, heading towards the mouth of the McLaren garage. She’s far enough away that you’re out of earshot, but close enough that you feel her gaze linger as Lando turns back to face you.

“Hey, don’t worry,” he tells you with a smile. “We can take a picture if you want or I can sign some stuff for you.”

“What? No.” You shake your head, mentally slapping your palm against your forehead and forcing yourself to get a grip. Idiot. “Fuck, sorry, that sounded so rude! It’s just-” you rush to explain.

“Oh no, it’s okay!” he stammers. “I should’ve guessed from the Red Bull shirt anway.”

You both share an awkward laugh before you compose yourself and reach a shaky hand into your bag.

“This is going to sound so weird, but I was online shopping for a new watch the other day because I lost mine, and I’m pretty sure I bought the one that was stolen from you. I didn’t know anything about it, I swear. I just...well, here,” you say, offering the watch and its temporary box to Lando.

He looks at you, taking the box only to go wide-eyed at the contents inside.

“I have all the information that I was able to get, but the ad was taken off of eBay and I really wanted to do the right thing and give it back to you. Please don’t be mad.”

“What the hell?!” he exclaims, earning a few looks from people passing by and catching Charlotte’s attention once more. “Sorry, sorry. How did you get this?”

Amused, you laugh quietly while he studies the watch intently. “That was my dad’s reaction too. Basically there was a listing for it on eBay and it was sort of an impulse buy,” you explain. “I didn’t see the news coverage of what happened until afterwards and I felt awful. I’m really sorry you had to go through that, I genuinely had no idea.”

Shrugging, he plays it off. “Nothing I can’t handle.” It’s hard to miss his sudden change in attitude from the interview you watched moments ago and you can’t help but wonder whether he has your or the watch’s presence to thank.

There is a brief moment of silence between you both before he continues. “How much did you pay for it?”

“It was so cheap, honestly,” you say. “Nothing compared to the original price, I’m sure.”

Charlotte, alerted by Lando’s attention-grabbing reaction to being reunited by his watch, returns to where the two of you are standing. “Oh wow, did you find a replacement watch for him?” she asks you, clearly impressed by the apparent likeness.

“No, Charlotte”, he corrects her. “It’s my one. Look.” He hands the watch to his PR manager, who receives it so gently you think she’s afraid it might shatter in her hands. Flipping the watch between her fingers, she studies the small engraving on the underside of the face.

“Oh my god,” she whispers.

Lando nods. “It’s the exact date it was given to me, there’s no way anyone else could know that and make a copy of it.”

You feel the need to justify yourself to her. “It was listed online and I bought it before I knew anything about the situation. I didn’t even really know who Lando was until I saw what happened on the news, I swear.” You anticipate her anger or disapproval, preparing yourself to withstand the lecture you’re about to receive and mentally promising that, as soon as it’s over, you can run back to your dad and tell him you just want to go home.

But it doesn’t come.

“I can’t believe it!” she exclaims. “We all thought we’d never see it again and you found it on accident.” The smile she gives you sets your mind at ease. “Technically, this is a police matter now, so I’ll have to hand it over to the right people, but this helps us tremendously. Did you get any information about the seller?”

You explain the situation to her, about how the listing was taken offline but you have a printout of the messages and address the seller gave you, which you hand her from your bag. She lets you know that someone may get in touch soon to ask questions but not to worry, that it’s only a formality. Eventually, she asks if you’d like to watch free practice from a spot in the mobile hospitality unit, but you politely decline, explaining that you needed to get back to your dad in the Red Bull garage instead.

Charlotte smiles fondly at Lando and presses the brim of his cap down over his eyes. “Come on, you, we have to go and get ready now anyway.”

He takes off his hat, cheeks flushing as he makes an effort to quickly brush the curls lining his forehead, placing it back on and dismissing Charlotte with a wave of his hand. “Okay, just give me a minute.”

Once the two of you are alone, he pulls out his phone. “Do you have Venmo? I’ll pay you back, it’s not fair that you had to waste your money.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it.”

Lando seems unconvinced. “It’s really not a problem.”

“Seriously, it’s all good.”

“Well,” he continues awkwardly. “I have to go, but are you here for the whole weekend or...?”

You shake your head. “Just today. I’m not into Formula 1, I find it a little bit boring.”

“Seriously?! The fastest cars in the world and you’re calling it boring? Why even come to something like Silverstone if it’s so boring?” he feigns offense, doing air quotes as he imitates your apparent disdain for the sport.

Laughing quietly, you shrug. “I have family at Red Bull, so it was basically just luck and convenience that you were in the U.K. this weekend,” you clarify. “I don’t really understand Formula 1, that’s all.”

“Fair enough, it’s not for everyone I suppose,” Lando replies. “So who in your family works at Red–” The end of his question is drowned out by the sound of his name called by an evidently disgruntled, impatient engineer.

He sighs. “I’m sorry, I’ve really gotta go, but, um,” he exhales with a nervous laugh. “I still feel like I need to repay you in some way. Do you want to go get a drink after the race on Sunday? I’m busy for the next few days but Sunday night I’ll be free. Only if you want to, of course, I don’t want to, like, pressure you or anything.”

You laugh, appreciative that the nervousness was shared. “That– Yeah, that sounds fine. I’ll give you my number.”

He types your details into his phone before apologizing once more, thanking you again, and rushing off into the garage.

——

On Sunday, you let your dad believe he’s the one who convinced you to stay for the entire race weekend, but it’s the promise of Lando’s company later that night and the endearing text messages on your phone that prompts the desire to see this weekend through. You had spent the previous nights on your phone, going through driver and team Instagram accounts, as well as the F1 website, to get an idea of what to expect. Typically, it would pain you to look through motorsport news pages, especially with so many of the reports centering around Max and his vie for the championship as of late, but you manage.

You notice almost immediately while settling into your spot at the back of the garage that the energy does not match your own. You are enthusiastic and eager, while the rest of the team is stressed and rushes around you. Presumably, it’s because race day impacts their livelihoods and paycheks whereas it only dictates your family’s dinner topics, but, nevertheless, your excitement refuses to simmer.

Unfortunately, if it was weird for you to be seen at the McLaren garage before the first free practice, it would be infinitely more suspicious for you to be lingering around on race day, so you were not able to catch Lando at all since your initial meeting on Friday. However, you made sure to message him good luck beforehand, to which he thanked you and expressed excitement for your upcoming night.

“If you need anything, just ask. I’ll be on the pitwall,” your dad says, snapping you out of your whirring mind. He notices your obscure behavior, quick to comment on it. “Is it weird? Being here after so long?”

You nod, shrugging. “Unusual, for sure. So much has changed since the last time I came and watched, but I’m excited, though.”

“Well, it’s always good to have you here.”

Reciprocating your dad’s grin, you silently send him on his way. He exits quickly and leaves you to your own devices. Though, your own devices look to consist of impatiently waiting for the race to start and scrolling absentmindedly through your phone. Ironically, your boredom with pre-race antics appears to create quite the dichotomy against the chaos exuding from the garage you find yourself encompassed in.

Regardless, your attention is regained when frequent cuts are made to the drivers in their cars, and you recognise that the race will be starting soon. You are temporarily startled when the cars begin moving without hearing an official announcement, but quickly realisee that it is merely a formation lap and no one else around you seems to be paying all too much mind to it.

When the cars return to their positions on the grid, you watch eagerly as the lights flash and the announcers begin yelling. You keep your eyes trained on the orange car towards the front of the grid, watching Lando so intently that you almost miss what happens to the cars in front of him.

Your eyes go wide as you watch the events unfold: the Red Bull car out front collides with what you identify as a Mercedes, spinning and slamming into the barrier. Gasps chorus across the garage as the screens replay slowed clips of the crash as an announcement states that the safety car has been deployed. They replay it from every conceivable angle, your astonishment at the severity is present upon your first viewing, but it’s only after the sixth clip that it clicks in your head that the person in the car is Max.

“For the second time this season, Hamilton and Verstappen clash and tangle on the opening lap, but, this time, it is ending in dramatic consequences for the championship leader.”

If you had perceived the pre-race behavior in the garage as chaotic, this was a whole new level of absurdity.

People rush around you while orders are shouted and frustrations are verbalised.

Your dad is angry.

The last time you recall him behaving like this was when your younger sister had broken the wine glasses he had bought for your mother on their honeymoon. You, however, ignore his yelling and remain encapsulated by the TV, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding as the events unfolding finally, finally register in your brain.

Car number 33 is in the wall and out of the race, and your ex-boyfriend is inside, silent and unmoving.

____________

tag list @lovebynorth @its-astrotea-love

[amazingmsme]

i’m living for the helluva boss content you’re posting !!! may i pls request 10 & 27 with stolitz ?

These numbers must be really popular lol. I think it’s so funny how you & that anon picked the exact same numbers! Great minds think alike! It’s kinda suggestive but hey, it’s Blitzo & Stolas, can you blame me? It’s a little suggestive tho, but nothing explicit.

Stolas had been wanting to try something new for a while, but was afraid of how Blitzo would react. Would he think he was weird and mock him? Would he refuse and walk out on their little session? He doubted he would, but he couldn’t help the anxiety eating away at him.

“What’s goin’ on in that bird brain o’ yours? You’ve been unusually quiet,” Blitzo inquired. And wasn’t that just the perfect segway to talk about his feelings.

“I’ve actually been wanting to try something new…” he trailed off, tracing the pattern of his bedspread. Blitzo smirked and leaned in closer.

“It couldn’t possibly have something to do with those fuzzy cuffs I saw earlier, could it?” he purred. “I gotta say, I admire the aesthetic, even if it’s not my exact taste.”

“Yes, I know. You prefer leather. And it ties into it…”

“HA! Tie, like bondage! I get it,” Blitzo barked out a laugh at the unintentional pun. Stolas offered a tight smile. Blitzo stopped chuckling, realizing that he was serious.

“Well what is it? Go on, you can tell me,” he encouraged.

“Well alright. But you have to promise not to laugh.”

“I can’t guarantee anything, but I can sure as hell try,” he assured.

“It’s just- I’ve been feeling a bit down lately, and could really use a good laugh. So I was wondering if you could- um- wow I didn’t think this would be that hard to ask,” he said nervously, a slight giggle in his voice. Blitzo’s lips quirked up and he huffed in amusement. “Couldyoutickleme?” he rushed out in one breath.

Blitzo heard him loud and clear, but couldn’t pass up an opportunity to tease him. “I’m sorry, what was that?” he asked, cupping his ear.

“I know you heard me! Don’t make me repeat it,” he whined.

“You want me to, what was it? Pickle you? Like put you in some vinegar and age you? That is fuckin’ weird,” he teased, but even as he spoke, he started cuffing him to the bed.

Stolas whined and looked away. “Blitzyyyy!” He chuckled as he straddled his waist.

“Oh I’m gonna enjoy this,” he said, wiggling his fingers above him. He faked an attack, making the owl demon shriek. Blitzo cackled as his cheeks reddened.

“Y-you’re a horrible tease! I-I changed my mind, you don’t deserve this,” he said in a prissy voice, tugging on his arms.

“Oh no, too late to back out now. Besides, I know you love it when I’m mean,” he purred, cupping his chin. Stolas melted at the touch.

“That I do…” he agreed with a dreamy smile.

“You up for a little challenge?” he asked, mischief dancing in the imp’s eyes. A pleasant chill ran up Stolas’s spine.

“As always,” he purred.

“Good. I wonder how long you can go without laughing?” he pondered aloud. “I mean, if you can manage to stay quite during all that other stuff, this should be a piece of cake for you,” he teased.

“Ihihi don’t know… want to find out?” he invited, arching his back.

“You bet your sweet ass I do! Don’t think this means I’ll go easy on ya,” Blitzo teased with a wink. “I love watching you break.” Without further ado, he began scratching over his belly. Stolas squeezed his eyes shut, squirming side to side. A wobbly grin was plastered on his face, and he sucked his tummy in, trying to escape the tingly feeling.

Blitzo traced shapes over his feathery tummy, making him writhe around on the bed. His breath was starting to get more sporadic as he fought to stay quiet.

“I’m actually surprised you haven’t cracked yet. I know how sensitive you are,” he teased, dragging a single finger down his chest all the way to his waist line. Stolas arched his back sharply, a giggly whimper escaping. Blitzo smirked down at him, walking his fingers up his sides. Stolas was smiling brightly, clearly struggling to contain his laughter.

“What happens if I tickle you… here?” Blitzo asked, suddenly diving for his exposed pits. The floodgates broke and Stolas’s wild laughter flooded the room.

Now the real fun could begin.

[fruggo]

Hi hi can I req Danny, Leon and Steve with a male s/o who's a real goofy guy? Cracks jokes during chases, just can't take things too seriously, laid back and chill guy who prioritizes having fun

absolutely, thanks for requesting!! :D this is cute haha. i hope you like it!

danny, leon, and steve with goofy m!s/o

𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐍

danny would consider himself a pretty fun guy, though perhaps his idea of fun would not be the same as a normal person's. so i wouldn't take his word for it if i were you.

honestly? he thinks you're the shit. he genuinely likes your bad dad jokes great puns, will banter back and forth with you, and he might even give you the hatch instead of a mori. although he would love to have your picture, it can wait until the next trial. or the next if he still doesn't feel like it. who knows?

he likes that you're not too serious about everything. since danny is the entity's golden boy, he never has to worry about anything! he likes it here! and it's cool that someone else has a similar mindset about things. although he might have misunderstood "making the best of the situation and just being a goofy person" for "liking it here". you never really clarified which one it was, and why should he ask?

when danny finds out that you act basically the same way with all the killers, cracking jokes and laughing things off in chases, he gets all pouty. he thought he was special. well, looks like you're getting that mori now.

he still likes you though, and he gives you even more special attention now in the form of tunneling and camping! he means well <3 (no he doesn't he is a little bitch and a loser)

but then he hears stories from the other killers about you, and is pleased to find that you are significantly more fun with him, and, dare i say, flirty!

but he still wants to tunnel and camp you.

when you realize what he's doing, you don't get mad about it. what's the point? in fact you think it's really funny.

the first time danny proximity-camped you, you found it rewarding to just talk and talk and talk until he finally talked back. it took a while, but he did finally respond.

you would just say dumb shit, and then you would say more dumb shit, and then it got annoying and danny had to tell you to shut up. and then you would just dramatically whisper something like "okay, pissbaby."

and danny thought maybe he should be angry with you, but he just wasn't. he couldn't be mad at you, because even if he was, you wouldn't care. you weren't scared of him.

so when he finally left and you got unhooked, he tunneled you obviously. it makes sense, okay?

"wow, am i that handsome and gorgeous and attractive?" you monologued while smashing a pallet onto danny's head. "i'm really just so irresistible that you want to tunnel me? honestly, danny, i'm flattered. i'm touched."

danny couldn't remember since when you were on a first name basis, but he let it slide. just because maybe he thinks you are that handsome and gorgeous and attractive.

dude danny is kinda fucked up but like. he's funny. and charming. and he also let you take off his mask once, and so now you know he's also hot. he has a few things going for him as long as you ignore the part where he chases you with a knife.

𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐃𝐘

leon, our favorite rookie :D he's so cute!!! sorry im gushing i just cant resist i love him !!

and you love him too, so much. that's why you accidentally distract him during trials by goofing off and almost getting him killed

it's out of love. leon knows that. you don't really mean to.

while leon's doing a generator, you are probably somewhere nearby trying to find something even remotely interesting to do. and that might involve climbing a tree, then falling out of the tree. but it wasnt your fault! you swore the crows were attacking you, they didn't want you up in that tree because they knew you were just so cool up there and the Entity couldn't have somebody being better and hotter and funnier than itself so high in the sky.

leon could only smile and shake his head, inspecting you for the wounds you inevitably had. when you said you were fine, he was very skeptical, because your version of fine was never the same as his.

the killer knew where you were now because of your very loud "FUCK!" as the crows supposedly attacked you and forced you out of the tree, so you immediately put on your game face and got ready to command some attention.

leon said no, you were not in the right headspace to get chased. you only shrugged at him, slapped his ass, and ran towards the killer yelling, "HEY YOU WANNA HEAR AN AGGIE JOKE?"

leon was used to this by now, and he found it rather endearing. you were an enigma to him, really. how you could be so laid back about this whole murder-die-sacrifice thing was beyond him, but it was refreshing. he liked your enthusiasm.

since he had just come from raccoon city, he was still in his "i have to do the right thing and save everybody because it's my duty" kind of mood. you made sure to lighten up that burden and remind him that it's okay to chill sometimes, and he can't save everybody, especially not here. if you were in a particularly bad trial, you always made sure to get him to crack a smile.

likewise, leon wasn't always too jazzed about your "funny guy gets killed so the team can live" complex. he knew you didn't care, or at least you said you didn't, but he still hated that you constantly sacrificed yourself and acted like it was no big deal. to him, it was. he hated going back to the campfire alone and waiting forever for you to show up again; he cared about you and it hurt to see you sacrifice yourself so much even if he knew you would return.

leon didn't have a stick up his ass or anything--he had his fair share of humorous moments (i mean have you seen infinite darkness ashdjshdf that man just wants love and food). he just wants to save everybody, you included. it's frustrating to come to terms with the fact that he can't.

he loves it when he can hear you yelling at the killer mid-chase from afar, be it a pun or a swear or both. you've even influenced him to crack his own jokes while being chased sometimes--it comes out more often if he's being tunneled. if you ever happened to see him do it, you would wipe a fake tear from your face and start clapping. you were very proud of your rookie.

𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐓��𝐍

the killers hated you and steve, and i mean like despised you

you were so chill. and for what???? why do you have chill???? nobody else has chill, what makes you think you deserve to have chill????

they could never make you angry and that made them super angry

you and steve would quip back and forth between chases, sometimes going so far as to pretend the killer is not there and talk about something like what kind of cheese you missed eating the most. let me tell you, that did not make the trickster happy.

he was a star!! a star, and here you two little shits were, ignoring him to talk about cheese. honestly, the audacity.

you and steve ran to the killer shack with the trickster on your heels, still talking about cheese. how the conversation had gone on this long was a mystery, and it continued to be a mystery while the two of you shared a chase in the shack.

steve was very happy to have found someone to share his sentiments with. everybody was so serious all the time, and while he was similar to leon with his altruistic streaks, he was slightly less responsible and occasionally enjoyed doing dumb stunts just for shits and giggles.

you can bet that whenever you are in a trial together, it's a competition to see who can hold the killer's attention longer. your teammates don't mind--all they have to do is complete gens, so their job is fairly easy. and it's always entertaining to catch sight of one of you sprinting with a new flashlight in your hand to go annoy the crap out of the killer.

there's no question that steve would die for you a hundred times over, and you would do the same for him. you didn't see it as a very big deal--you didn't see anything here as a very big deal. steve was the only important thing you had, really, and you cared for him a lot. saving him? kapeesh. no sweat.

scenario: steve is being chased, you throw yourself in front of him, the killer has noed, you are hooked, you give him a thumbs up as you die, he flips you off because why the fuck would you die for him what is wrong with you he's supposed to die for you and you know that?? why would you do that???? great, now steve gets to escape and it's all your fault.

you would simply smile. he was so cute sometimes.

[adam-banks2024]

going to eden hall’s cotillion with adam banks

you were super nervous about the dance

it was one week away and you still didn’t have anyone to go with

at this point you thought you’d have to go alone

and you were excited

this was gonna be different than anything that you’ve ever went to before

yeah, you went to prom when you were a sophomore at a smaller school, and you went to winter formal in january, but you had never gone to anything as fancy as this before

you didn’t even know what it was at first

big thank you to google

as soon as you learned that it was a “fancy french dance” as russ put it, you started picking up more hours at your part time job

you didn’t need anything super extravagant or expensive, but you wanted to look nice and feel pretty

you talked to charlie about it almost everyday, and he seemed as excited about it as you

“i think i’m gonna ask lisa”

“what kinda tux should i get?”

“what kinda flowers do girls like?”

yada yada

you helped him with everything, of course

and he helped you pick out a dress, and a corsage, the whole shabang

and so the only thing left was to get a date

easy right

haha

laugh out louddddd

no.

but charlie was optimistic

he knew that you liked someone, but he didn’t know who it was

julie and connie didn’t even know so he knew there was no hope trying to find out

so you collectively agreed to find someone to go with as friends

you talked to ken first

made a really nice poster board, and made some ice skating puns

he looked super happy, and he laughed the whole time you were embarrassing yourself with your cheesy poster

he said thanks

but apparently...

he was

going with

A SENIOR GIRL

like damn ken okay

i see u

so you were upset

but kinda proud of him

so that meant it was on to the next person

russ? maybe

yeah

he’s be funny, plus it wouldn’t be awkward with him

so you get him some candy instead of a poster board, and walked up to him during lunch

“thanks, but averman, goldberg, and i are going together. kind of like a bachelors thing, yknow?”

you sighed

that takes out one more person

who else who else

DWAYNE

you could ask dwayne, and he’d be a gentleman, and you’d have an amazing time

you ditched the candy, borrowed a cowboy hat, and gave him a sunflower and asked him

he thought the gesture was sweet, and he was obsessed with the flower

“i think i’ll name him bob”

bless his heart

But He Said He Was Already Going With A Girl From A Different School.

cool. cool. cool

fulton! he’s chill!

you’d probably have a comfortable night with him and still have a good time

you game him a card with a hockey puck on it, with some cheesy saying about hitting hockey pucks too hard

you didn’t know

this was like the umpteenth guy you asked

he laughed at the gesture and thanked you for the card

“sorry y/n, but i’m going with portman. date night yknow?”

*sigh*

you understood

because let’s be honest that’s cute

but now that rules everyone out

except for him

but no because you’ve seen a million girls ask him

so you figured it’d be best if you went alone

you even considered going with julie but she’s going with scooter

IGHHSKABDVEIEJTBBRBE

why is this so harrrd

“i could talk to adam?”

charlie kept insisting

you kept saying no because you didn’t want a pity date

“i can just meet you all there”

that sounded a lot less sad in your head

“just ask him tomorrow, please?”

fine.

you decided that you’d ask him

on friday

“y/N tHaTs ThE dAy BeFoRe ThE DaNcE”

itll be fine

except it wasn’t fine

you worked your ass off the whole week leading up to friday

you worked everyday, you had exams all week, and you still had hockey practice

you were dead by friday

sweats to class, energy drink in hand, bags under your eyes

and your slippers

you had zero cares today

then you remEMBERED

charlie would absolutely murder you if you didn’t end up asking

so you said screw it (:

you and adam saw each other every day during 5th hour because you both had a free period then

you guys usually hung out and giggled like little kids

but that’s usually where it ended

if he saw you in the halls he would lend a nod, but that’s about the extent of things

so you thought hey, just ask him then

aha. he did a double take when he saw you walk in the library

“are you feeling okay?”

“yeah just tired. working like hell for this stupid cotillion”

he just looked confused

“not everyone has money to burn, cake eater”

he looked embarrassed now

shit

“nono, i didn’t mean it like that. i- i’m just tired”

he shook his head as he smiled and gestures for you to sit down

uh oh

now is the time

where you have to say the thing

nonono

“hey so,...uh!”

“yep?”

why does he lOOK SO GOOD

“so i asked, like, almost everyone...”

great now you sound pathetic

“...and they’ve just been busy so it’s cool...”

you’re just digging yourself deeper

“...but i still don’t have a date to the cotillion, so... would you— wanna go?”

he sat in silence for a moment

so you’re just gonna take that as a no

“what, no poster board, or candies, or sentimental cards?

w h a t

“you mean you saw all that?”

“kinda, yeah”

“o h”

now you didn’t know what to say. you just felt bad

“but yes. i’d love to go”

you did it.

he said yes?!

bet

YOU GUYS HAD SO MUCH FUN

he took you out to a nice restaurant

complimented your dress

your hair

your face

yes your face

AHHHHH this boy

and he actually danced with you?

some songs he knew came on and you were just jumping up and down in the middle of the dance floor

you guys even...

slowdanced

gasp

he was an awkward distance from you, not wanting to overstep your boundaries

but you pulled him closer

and he thought it was nice :)))))

at the end of the night you two were beat

he even walked you back to your dorm room which was in a building opposite than his was :,)

“well, it’s been an amazing night. and now i get to walk across campus”

and then

then you

INVITED HIM INTO YOUR DORM?

wtf

so yeah

he seemed giddy

and you offered him some sleeping clothes

and you slept on separate sides of the bed

and then you got a little closer

and then a little more closer...

and then y’all were cuddling

need i say more?

so yeah, it was just a really nice night for you two :))))

[katorainwonderland]

Infatuation Ch. 4

Summary: Chris and Y/N have a talk about problematic journalism and celebrate their 1 year anniversary with a few surprises.

Word Count: 1,977

Warnings: 18+ cuz there is smut, explicit sex scene, spanking, daddy kink, being called good girl, little girl, some teasing, oral(m receiving), praise kink, breeding kink(just a little), Chris has a dirty mouth, feelings because that’s a warning lol

Author’s Note: Well, this chapter came quick(pun intended😂) I don’t know exactly where this is going but it’s going somewhere. Thanks so much for the likes and reblogs on the last 2 chapters, I’m so glad you’re all enjoying this. Please enjoy this one as well!

Ch. 1 Ch.2 Ch.3

************************

A FaceTime lit up your phone screen as you were cooking, the screen name across it said ‘bae’ and you smiled as you answered it. Chris’s beautiful face coming up on the screen made you giddy and when he saw you he couldn’t help but smile as well but you could tell from the slight furrow in his brow and the dim sparkle in his eyes that something was wrong.

“Hey, baby, you ok? You’re smiling but I can tell something is going on.”

“Yeah, I’m fine, are you ok?” He questioned, wondering if there was something you wanted to talk about.

“Chris, you know I don’t like 20 questions when you need to talk about something, let’s tackle what’s going on.” You began getting slightly annoyed as you seasoned the chicken you were making.

Chris was a beat around the bush kind of guy, especially if he thought it would hurt your feelings, you on the other hand was straight and to the point, wanting to get past the problem. Polar opposites.

“Have you seen the articles about us lately?” He was hesitant, hoping that you hadn’t, he hated how they wrote about his love life.

“You mean the ones that’s trying to compare me to your ex’s? No, but my publicist brought them to my attention.” You moved around the kitchen, putting back things and taking out pans.

“Oh, did you want to talk about them?”

“Uh, not really, I don’t really care about what they’re saying. If I had a problem with them I would have already talked to you,” You stopped what you were doing to wash your hands and looked back at Chris who looked a little flustered.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” You raised an eyebrow, wondering why he called to talk about this when there was a plethora of other things you both could be doing on this FaceTime call, dirty things.

“No, I-I’m sorry, I’m not used to the woman I’m dating to be so chill about it.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“Baby, do you remember who your girlfriend is? I’m the motherfucking shit and I carry myself as such in public, and mostly, in private. I love myself and I don’t compare myself to other women, you don’t have to reassure me. I’m fine, I promise and you, good sir, better not ever compare yourself to my ex’s.” You pointed a finger at him and he laughed.

“They’re ex’s for a reason and those articles are trash. Now, I see that you’re half naked sitting on the couch, take the rest off and I’ll give you my own show. I have whipped cream in the fridge.” You smiled slyly and he finally gave you one of his full belly laughs that you love.

“Yes, ma’am.”

*********************

“Move in with me?” Well that wasn’t what you were expecting on your anniversary.

You choked on your wine at the question and coughed. “What?”

“I think we should live together. I know you’ve made your home in L.A. but I’m serious about you and want to take things a step further.” He explained, he was nervous, you could tell, his ears were tinged red and he was fidgeting.

It would make sense right? You both were at the year mark of your relationship, so far things long distance had worked and you didn’t really have a permanent home. L.A. was never supposed to be a permanent thing, you stayed there for work mostly. You could understand why Chris would want you to move with him instead of him moving with you, his family was here, this was his home.

Could you really call Boston your home?

Massachusetts?!

“Sorry, I know you weren’t expecting to hear that on our anniversary,” He laid his hand on top of yours. “I just wanted to put it out there, will you think about it?”

“Of course.” You nodded, speaking quietly, you were making your list of pros and cons in your head.

He went to get up and put your plates into the sink but you stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Hey, you know I love you and I know you would love an answer right now but this is big.” You looked into his bright blue eyes and saw nothing but understanding in them. If you would admit it, you were scared he would leave you if you didn’t want to.

He set the plates down and kneeled in front of you. “I know, baby, I can wait for an answer. It’s ok and it’s ok if that’s not what you want to do right now, it’s not a dealbreaker, I won’t leave if you decide now isn’t the right time for you.” He knew you well enough to know what you were thinking.

“Why are you so good to me?” You were going to cry, this man had done more for you and made you feel safer in a year than any past relationship had.

“Because I love you, sweetheart. Why are you so good to me?” He posed the question to you, knowing it would be the same as his answer but he wanted to hear it.

“Because I love you.” The tears were streaming down your face now, happy tears, you were overwhelmingly happy with him.

“Damn it, you’re going to make me cry too.” He laughed, eyes watering up as he tried to wipe yours away.

“I think the biggest question of us moving in together would be are my kids going to get along with yours?” You both laughed speaking about your two cats and Dodger.

“That is a good question.”

**********************

“So I was thinking since it’s our anniversary, maybe we should make a video.” You were already laid naked under him, pretty damn ready for him to just stick his dick in you but you were surprised at his suggestion.

“You are full of surprises today, Mr. Evans but I don’t see why not.”

“My phone or yours?” He was already up and looking for both, excited that you had said yes.

“Both, gotta get all angles,” You giggled “how about one phone captures it from the side and then the other phone passes between our hands, POV styles.”

“Naughty, you’ve done this before?”

“Nope, I’ve watched porn though, who’s phone will be the lucky one to be in action?” You watched him with a smile on your face.

“Mine!” He claimed as he set your phone up on the side, the dresser providing a good angle to see the length of the bed.

“I knew you would say that!” Once he deemed the set up perfect, he pressed record and hurried back over to you on the bed, dick bobbing up and down already painfully hard.

“You first babe, keep that camera on me.” You pushed him to his back and kissed your way down his body. His breath hitched when you took his cock in your hand and kissed it down to the base, the generous amount of precum helping you move your hand up and down slowly as your mouth made its way to his balls.

“Fucking shit, Y/N!” He called as you took one in your mouth, gently sucking on it, then went to the other. His hand was shaking, barely holding the phone still. You giggled as you moved your mouth back up, swapping places with your hand, you took him into your mouth and began sucking.

He could barely keep still as you swallowed him, you loved the feeling of him hitting the back of your throat and he tasted quite good if you were being honest.

“Baby, baby, stop, I'm not going to last if you keep doing that.”

“Come on, daddy, I want your cum in my mouth!” You licked the tip and he hissed, grabbing you by your hair to stop you, you smiled at his roughness.

“Why are you so bad?”

“Maybe you should spank me.” He gripped your hair tighter and you moaned.

“You would like that wouldn’t you? On your hands and knees, now.” He let your hair go and got up, he set his phone up on the bedside table and angled it.

Once you were in position you waited for the first hit of his hand to your ass but instead you felt his fingers ease over your slit. You moaned as he continued the ministrations and his middle finger circled your clit.

“Arch your back,” you did as he said but it wasn’t enough for him. “More, that ass needs to be in the air, babe.” You got down until your breasts pressed into the bed, you could barely concentrate on what he was saying with him stimulating your clit like this.

That was until he smacked your ass with his other hand and you made a noise in surprise, startled from the impact but he kept touching your clit, pain and pleasure.

“Down.” He commanded and you realized you had gotten back up on your elbows.

You did as he told you and another smack came to your ass.

“Fuck, Chris!”

He chuckled darkly and slid his fingers to your wanting hole, “Damn, baby, your pussy is trying to suck my fingers in, greedy little thing.”

“Please, please, I need something in me, anything.” He was driving you crazy, his fingers rubbed over your entrance but never went in and in a split second they were gone, only to be replaced by his thick cock. He stretched you open as he slid into your wet canal and you both groaned.

“Fuck, you’re soaked, so fucking warm, gripping me like a vice pretty girl. Bounce that ass on me, show me how bad you wanna cum.”

“God, Chris.” Your hands balled the sheets up in your fingers but you did what he said.

“Shit, you’re creaming on my cock, you must want me to cum right in you huh, darlin’? Want me to fill this pussy up, want me to put my babies in you.” His hands gripped your waist now, picking up pace, slamming you back on him.

God, why did he have to talk like that?! You would have agreed to anything with the way he felt inside of you right now.

“Yes, yes daddy, yes.”

“Mhmm, come on, baby, cum on my cock and daddy will fill you up.” He never had to tell you twice, with those words you were screaming out your orgasm, your legs shook as you felt a gush of liquid come from you and your walls tightened around him, it took no less time for him to cum, his seed filling you up and overflowing out of your spent hole.

His softening length exits you and you whimpered, feeling more of him come out of you.

“Hold on, love, stay right there I got you.”

You definitely weren’t going anywhere and you were sort of stuck in this position, legs shaking and all. He ran to the bathroom, wet a wash rag then hurried back to wipe you off.

You groaned and tried to push his hand away.

“Shh, I know, I’m sorry, pretty girl. I know you’re sensitive but you gotta let me clean you up.” He finished up then helped you onto the bed, he moved the wet duvet from under you and covered you with the thinner sheet under it.

You pressed your body flush against his and wrapped an arm around him, nuzzling into his neck, he kissed your head and held you.

“I’ll move in with you.” You spoke sleepily and you were out before you could see his reaction.

Chris was over the moon about your answer, his next plan was to ask you to marry him but he would wait until you were fully settled into your new life in Boston before popping the question.

“Shit, I forgot to turn the camera off.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag List! Y’all are amazing!

@srhxpci @mylifeasltd8

[filesunderwater]

【Hamilton/Six Crossover】 Don’t Miss Your Shot

Orignial Song: Don’t Lose Your Head from Six the Musical

Alexander Hamilton’s version of Anne Bolyen

The original title “Don’t Lose Your Head” is a pun so I made my title a pun too! Enjoy

Grew up on a remote land Yet he dreamed grand Excellent brain and dangerous dance 1776, broke up with the UK All the British dudes, lame Perfect chance Oohoo, didn’t you hear the ring Politics, just my thing Oohoo, so we beat the king And soon the general said I can help you get ahead

He needed me, ha, obviously Consulting with me like every day Passed the Constitution and he gave me a promotion And he was not kidding that he desired my aide Oohoo, so I took the post Which is, meant for me to hold Oohoo, handle the nation’s gold But then came the bad news that Thomas’ on his road

Uh oh, here we go You started the fight? He does nothing but produce endless lies! What? So this is life. Politics’ an art of disguise Like, I don’t want to brag but I’m so wise

Sorry, not sorry about what I sought Just trying to raise my rank Don’t worry don’t worry don’t miss your shot Watch cashes gather in my hand LOL, say oh well, or go to hell Sorry, not sorry about what I sought Don’t miss your shot

Three had a word and the Congressman urged If you wanna save your work Gotta follow the rules I said “so? what” Watch the money flow Just play your role Or are you fools? Oohoo, don’t be bitter Oohoo, cuz I’m smarter Oohoo, your economic withers The President doesn’t want you Somebody fire you

Uh oh here we go Your comments went viral Though I did mean it, rumors spiral Wow, man, way to make the south hate you Mate, what was I meant to do

Sorry not sorry about what I sought Just trying to raise some fund Don’t worry don’t worry don’t miss your shot Didn’t mean to hurt anyone LOL, pay the bill, or go to jail Sorry not sorry about what I sought Don’t miss your shot

Tried to keep my post But Adams says Nope Our only hope Is Pin-ck-ney Despite the attention He lost the election Now who’s gonna win The president seat? The candidates ’re so ill-fitted My mates Regret that I quitted Wait— Jefferson’s elected Everybody chill I’m sure he’s gonna fail

Thomas’ out to wear the bank down Just stealing around Like what the hell? If that’s how it gonna be I’ll let my quill run free So his vice Prez fell Burr finds out and he goes mental He whined and wailed like So judgmental! You damned monarchist! Mate, just shut up I’m still a Federalist Though you could give it up

Uh oh here we go Is that what you’ve said Now he’s going around saying “the duel of death”! Yeah I’m pretty sure he means it What was I mean to do?

Sorry not sorry about what I sought Just trying to get some fun Don’t worry don’t worry don’t miss your shot Didn’t mean to hurt anyone LOL, say oh well, or go to hell Just go to hell!

Sorry not sorry about what I sought Sorry not sorry about what he sought

Don’t miss your shot!

[songmingisthighs]

[15.08] badboy!seonghwa × reader

⇀ had you known that's why he confessed, would you have accepted him ? Or smack his annoyingly perfect face with your laptop ?

⇁ part 1 / 2

⇁ prologue part 1 / 2 / 3

Things had gone great between you and Seonghwa. You and he would often meet at your dorm or at the diner at least three times a week.

You'd ask him why you both never hung at his dorm but his answer was that he doesn't want the boys to disturb your 'quality time'.

Normally you'd question answers like that, but the way he looks at you and holds your hand made you forget why you even wanna ask that in the first place.

But like all things, everything dissipates with time.

Nearing the end of the semester, group projects lessen and solo assignments accumulate which put a strain between your and Seonghwa's hangout time. You've tried convincing him that you both can hang out whilst doing your solo assignments but you remembered how his eyes trailed after a girl as you spoke at one of your last hangouts at the diner.

Seems like he's lost interest in you too.

Which, it sure hurts, but you both were never official and neither had verbally confirmed to the other about their feelings. It sucks.

But you power through.

You pretend that his silence during class's group discussion didn't affect you, you pretend that when he immediately pack up his stuff to leave the class and only throwing you a polite smile didn't make your heart wrench, you pretend that him ghosting you didn't make you feel both embarrassed and angry at the same time.

You're light and breezy.

Heck, you're so light and breezy, you still go to that diner every Friday all alone. And it's not because you had hoped to see one particular man.

Even though you did.

When he was on a date with some girl who's obviously very pretty.

On the booth you both had 'claimed' as 'your booth' without ever verbally saying it.

"Hi, excuse me," a voice broke your train of thoughts.

You look up from your book to see a really handsome man standing in front of you with a smile on his face. He looks very handsome, definitely mixed-race, and he has this chill aura on him that is honestly refreshing to you.

"Sorry to bother you, but can I sit here?" He asked. You look around to see that there are a lot of other places left in the library where he could've sat.

Sensing your apprehension, the man raised both of his hands, "I'm not a creep or a weirdo, I'm just very particular about where I work,"

He's got a point. So you just nodded, "sure, it's not my table or anything anyways, you could've just taken a seat without asking my permission," he shrugged as he put his things across you, "I mean sure, but you seemed like you don't wanna be bothered and this particular spot has the best walking distance to anywhere at all and plus the secret charging port? Genius," he said, grinning proudly.

You raised your eyebrows at him, "you seem to know your way around the table, mister..." you trailed off to which he immediately caught on, "Hansol, Choi Hansol, but my friends calls me Vernon," he held his hand out for you to shake, "(Y/N), (Y/N) (Y/L/N), and why Vernon?" "My english name, I'm half American,"

And with that, you got yourself a new friend.

Vernon is a computer science major, and the other thing major about him is his nerdiness. And his hotness. Which is a ridiculous combination.

Ever since that day in the library, you both somehow find the other popping up everywhere. Just a day after your first meeting in the library, he came into the café you part-timed at. He came in to order 13 drinks and several pastries, shocking you at first but then he told you he lives in a frat house with 12 other guys and that he's not a caffeine addict.

Then you both bonded over the many sessions in the library which eventually venture out to sitting together during lunch, and then suddenly you both started meeting outside campus.

And this did not go unnoticed by Seonghwa.

"Hey, Seonghwa, how well do you know (Y/N)?" Hongjoong asked, breaking Seonghwa's glare on you and Vernon from all the way across the cafeteria.

Seonghwa raised an eyebrow at him, "(Y/N) from my statistics class?" As if he hadn't considered you as something more at some point, "I'd say well enough as a groupmate, why?" He asked back.

Hongjoong nodded towards you and Vernon with his chin, "Vernon there saw you both working together and he wants to make sure he won't be stepping on anyone's toes when he's making a move on her,"

At that moment, Seonghwa almost choked on his fries. Too surprised with the fact that you've possibly moved on from him so quickly.

It's only been a month and a half since you both stopped hanging out outside of obligation.

Hearing that made his blood boil and he's pretty sure it's not jealousy. Most likely territorialism. HE took interest in you first waaaaay before Vernon did.

The smile and laugh you give Vernon was supposed to be for him. He used to make you laugh so hard at any stupid pun he concocted in his head. No matter how stupid it is nor how much it doesn't make any sense.

To be completely honest, he didn't know why he pulled away from you in the first place. He had been so comfortable with you, never once had he ever let his guard down and just be carefree, not even with his closest friends.

He needs to get you back to him.

No matter what.

So he made his move the next time you both had statistics again.

Unlucky for him though, the professor decided to not have any group discussion that day which threw Seonghwa's plan out the window. But thankfully he still remembered your schedule, you don't have any class after statistics which means you'd be grabbing a simple lunch before your part-time job starts until 8 pm.

So he waited patiently for the bell to ring.

Legs bouncing in anticipation as his eyes flit towards the clock every five minutes.

When the professor finally dismissed the class (10 minutes later than he's supposed to, as per usual), he immediately put all his belongings back in his bag and ran after you. Somehow you've mastered the art of cleaning up quickly over the month and a half without him.

"(Y/N)! Wait!" Seonghwa called.

You stopped in your tracks and turn your head to see Seonghwa jogging towards you with that stupid, charming smile on his face.

Damn his good looks.

"Yeah? Is there something wrong?" you asked him when he caught up to you. He raised an eyebrow at you, confused as to why you'd think there'd be anything wrong.

"Ah!" you suddenly exclaimed, "Is this about my part of the presentation? Don't worry, I'm close to finishing it, I should be able to compile it in the PPT tonight by... 9.30-ish? I have to finish my shift at the café," you explained.

He chuckled at you, deep voice that you oh so missed ringing in your ears, "wha- no, (Y/N), I'm not here to talk about our project, I just wanna... talk with you," he said, tilting his head to the side slightly. It somehow made him look both hot and cute at the same time. Which doesn't make sense.

Now it was your turn to raise an eyebrow at him while crossing your arms, "why? No offence, Seonghwa, but you've kinda been blowing me off for the past month and a half now, what makes you think I'd have anything to talk with you about?"

Those words coming out of your mouth shocked him. It's not like he didn't expect some apprehension from you, but hostility? Boy, you must've been really affected by his shitty doings.

"I-I- no, (Y/N), I haven't been blowing you off," bullshit, even he knows that, "I've just been really-" "really... what? Absent? Ghosty? Hot and cold? Whatever it is, Seonghwa, you don't owe me any explanation," you tried your best to not roll your eyes at him because honestly, how dare he blew you off and now acting like he didn't whilst hoping you don't notice what he has been doing.

What did he take you for? One of his brainless bimbos?

Surprised at your words, Seonghwa was left stunned. You waited for a solid 10 seconds for him to say something. Anything.

Literally, how hard is it to say sorry?

Realizing he wouldn't realize what he's supposed to do, you just shook your head at him, "I'll finish inputting and editing my part by tonight, I'll see you in class next week, Seonghwa," you said before walking away.

You would've thought that he'd take the hint and go back to ignoring you.

But now, of course not. He's stubborn and he plays by his own rules. It's an understatement to say that you were shocked when you saw him entering the café nearing the end of your shift.

Despite the shock of seeing him, you pretended like nothing's wrong and do what you're supposed to do to any other customer as per usual.

Heck, you'd give yourself a pat on the back, head, and butt for being so calm whilst handling Seonghwa. You managed to keep that "strictly professional" smile on your face as you take his orders, you didn't fumble when he made small talks as you typed in his orders into the computer (like really, who the heck said "good thing tonight's not cloudly, love the moonlight," ??), and you didn't flinch when your hands accidently touch as you hand him his strawberry frappucino.

Yes, the badboy strictly and secretly drink sweet, fruity drinks.

You'd thought that his presence was merely a coincidence. As he waited in his table, you had assumed that he's waiting for some girl (who isn't you, sadly) so all you wanna do is run out of there as soon as you can.

"Hey, Jaemin," you called your co-worker who's in the middle of sipping his 6 shot americano at 8 pm, "I'm gonna head out, okay? Think you can hold the fort until Yena's here? She said she has to turn in an assignment, that's why she's late,"

Jaemin just rolled his eyes at you, "(Y/N), I'm drinking coffee that's powerful enough to paralyze a horse, I can definitely handle the slow Wednesday night crowd," he said sarcastically to which you laugh.

After getting your things from your locker in the back room, you proceed to go out through the front door.

Unbeknownst to you, Seonghwa had followed behind.

You were only several steps away from the café when suddenly Seonghwa caught up to you and grab your hand.

Knowing that it's quite late and it's dark, Seonghwa should've known better. You honestly only feel slightly bad for punching his chest.

Slightly.

Like 2%.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Seonghwa you scared the devil out of me!" You exclaimed after realizing that it was just him, pulling your hand away from his grip. He coughed, trying to ease oxygen back to his lungs after you had brutally knocked them out.

"Guess I deserved that," he coughed out, but he was smirking as if he's amused by your attack, "sorry, I was just- I need to talk to you," he said, looking at you pleadingly.

"Well, it doesn't seem like that for the past month and a half, Seonghwa, you seemed just about done with me," you said while crossing your arms, your expression showing nothing but disdain at him. He seems to feel remorse after seeing how you looked at him. Never once did you showed any negativity nor hostility to him during the time you both spent together.

Seonghwa didn't really know what made him pull away from you. All he was sure of is that he felt something so strongly about you to the point that it scared him so much. He never felt the need to be with someone as much as when he was with you. He found himself thinking about you when you're both not together, he found himself only focusing on you and nothing else when you both are together, and he found his vulnerabilities open for you to access.

It scared him to hell and back when he realizes that there is a possibility of him wanting something more from you.

With you.

The man before you sighed, "I... Have no excuse for how I acted recently but believe me when I said that I regret pulling myself away from you because I'm scared, you're too good to and for someone like me, you deserve the best and I wanna be the best for you," he stepped closer to take both your hands in his, his eyes were genuine which rendered you incapable of being too mad at him, "I wish I could rewind the time and take back what I did, I never should have pulled away from you, I should have just told you the truth," he said.

For a second, he forgot about his image and he just let whatever he was feeling out, he wanted to make sure that you understand how he truly feels.

Both of you stood in silence, just staring at each other as he rubs his thumb on the back of your hand. With the way you're staring at him now, he was sure that your initial resolve had completely melted.

But suddenly from his peripheral vision, he saw Vernon coming out of a bookstore across the road and was looking around.

Remembering what prompted him to get closer to you again, he pulled you in close into his arms, a hand to your cheek and lips just centimetres away from his.

"So? Would you please give me another chance to show you how much you mean to me? Not as just some guy from your statistics class," his words made you chuckle and roll your eyes, "but as your boyfriend," he said before he could stop himself.

Your eyes widened, "m-me? With y-you? Boyfriend and girlfriend?" you choked out, not believing your ears in the first place. You wanted to make sure that he's not kidding, making a joke or making a fool out of you.

Instead of answering, however, he simply leaned in and places his lips softly on yours. The kiss was sweet, it conveyed how much he wants and misses you. For some reason it made you feel comforted, he feels like home and his arms makes you feel safe.

So then and there, you kiss him back as a form of an answer to him.

When you both finally pull away, you both could see dumb smiles decorating the other's face, proof of happiness over what just happen.

Remembering that you're in the middle of the road and there are people around you, you pulled away from his arms first but reached to tangle your hand in his.

"Come on, I believe I owed my groupmate my part of the presentation," you started as you walk, pulling him with you.

But as you walk, you turn your head at him to throw a flirty smirk, "boyfriend" you said, making him grin so wide, it could rival a Cheshire cat.

Maybe you and he isn't a bad idea at all.

All you can do now is hope that he won't break you.

[abbynx]

La Squadra Esecuzione as Best Friends Headcanons

Formaggio - Very chill, first and foremost, he is down for anything to do. Videogames? He'll try to beat your ass. Cat cafes? Heck ye he is down - The type of friend who will coax you to cut class to hang out behind the school or climb over the school fence to hang around the local arcade or theatre. But if he get caught, he won't snitch and he's willing to take responsibility. Begrudgingly. - Ohhhh physical touch is bare minimum for him. He'll occasionally lean on you, perhaps shrink himself to fit himself in your pocket just to platonically cuddle and perhaps, use you as a transport. - Will high five you as a greeting, and will high five you as a farewell. Usually followed by a hug too uwu "Bro!" He holds his hand out for a high five, in which you instinctively grant him one, when he also entwines his fingers through yours and pulling you for a hug, patting your back for a second and pulling away. "I missed you bro!" - Prepare for dumb jokes, dumb puns that he effortlessly come up with as time goes by. You can't go on a day without him cracking a joke. You'd either roll your eyes at it or laugh along with him. There's nothing in between "You see that guy over there, bro?" He leans on you, arm draped around your shoulder as he points at a person from afar. "Yeah, what?" "I say... You'd be a perfect match." You glanced at him, hearing him shake a box of matches as he wiggled his eyebrows with a dumb grin. - *Finger guns and bro intensifies* Illuso - That weird person you don't see yourself associating yourself with somehow befriended him for some reason. Most likely started when you both started to wake up at 3 AM and meet in the middle of the dark, in the kitchen, wanting to grab something to eat. At first it is awkward, but soon you learned to bond through it! And soon enough, your midnight chats extended to become actual friendships! - Seems distant, but he cares. He's the type pretend not to care about you, but will glare (or more than glare depending at the severity) at people who hurt you. He is the 'I'm the only one allowed to insult them like that' type of friend. "Huh, Formaggio hasn't been teasing me. I wonder what happened." You wondered aloud, as you say beside your friend Illuso. "Must be because of his bruised jaw. The previous mission must've been tough for him." "Yeah... That..." - Probs touched-starved. He acts irritated and push you away when you try to hug him, but secretly loves it. If you stop trying to hug him, he'd be kinda sad but will not say anything. - This friendship includes you listening to him rant about every little thing, and brag about things he can't do. He appreciates you listening to be honest, and that's initially how your friendships started anyways. - Will use derogatory terms as a term of endearment. Please don't be offended, he doesn't mean any offense "Hey idiot! Get your sorry ass right here! Risotto said we have someone to take care of!" "Thanks, dumbass." "Eyo slut! Take a look at this fugly idiot!" - Does not have the habit of knocking. In fact, he just barges into your room, through the mirror. In more than one occasion has he seen you undressed but he couldn't care less about it. "Hey dumbass can I borrow your— hey, stop screaming! Anyways I ran out of hair ties, do me a solid—" - Everyone around you being confused to how you two are most unlikely to become friends, but you two are practically unlikely twins Prosciutto - You can not stop me from assuming he is quite the mom friend if you pry his shell hard enough. Perhaps a mom friend mixed with tsundere friend. "Hey! Drink your water or I'll break your ankles! No I don't care that we're in the middle of killing someone! I packed you some water and you didn't drink it! Well shit I didn't pack it specifically for you, I just managed to pack extra! Now go ahead and drink, I'll handle this one myself! While you're at it, coat yourself with sunscreen! If I hear you whining about being burnt, I swear to God—" - If you happen to be a mom friend too, you'd be bonding over the

mutual stress of having to look over the rest of the gang over a glass of wine as chaos around you ensues because you two decided to take a small break. "Formaggio and Ghiaccio is up at it again..." You sigh, swirling the content of your stemware as the distant bickering of the two aforementioned assassins echoed. "Just... Let's just lay low. It'll be over soon." Prosciutto sighs along as well, before downing his glass of whiskey. "Hopefully." And it didn't end, as it ensued and progressive got worse. Stands were called, knives were thrown, guns were shot. And two mom friends of La Squadra almost lost their voice from all the yelling and lecturing - Will scold you for your bad habits. Bad posture? He will walk behind you, press his knee on your back and roll your shoulders back whilst he lectures you about it. Messy time management? Will buy you crap to make you keep track of time. Sleeping so late? He will take whatever you're distracted with, demand you to turn your lights off as he lights soothing scented candles and tossing you some comfortable blankets to use. Barely taking care of yourself? Bro prepare yourself. "I don't understand how you live like this! You'd be dead if you were to continue that habit! At least help me help you to make you be better!" - Very blunt and honest to the point it stings, but he never lies to people he is closed to. He prefers being upfront with his loved ones and will try to rebuild their confidence and reassure them that they can be better than what they are. "When I say you're idiotic, you're but a burden, I mean it. You have all rights to be hurt by it, but don't just live with it. Prove me wrong, that you can be better than that and you'll be the best version of yourself. I know you can do it." - Will accept hugs, but will most likely not hug back. Maybe he'll just out one hand on your back and lightly stroke it, but that's it. But in rare occasions, he will return them too. Sometimes, he'll even initiate it. - Your connection to him as a friend has lead several advantages. No one in general can make a negative comment about you with Prosciutto around. His glare alone was scary and they would not wish to stick around and find out what he can do than just glaring. - Extremely appreciates when you help him around by simply carrying things for him, fetching him coffee and actually doing your damn job properly is enough to make him be filled with gratitude. Pesci - Baby. Okay, so this boy. Boy oh boy, he is baby. Take care of him, bro. Don't coddle him to the point of him being entirely dependent on you, but sis you can always reassure and make him improve himself! Perhaps a tamer version of his relationship with his brother. - You two will mostly likely be friends because you always defend him from the others from teasing him and rooting for him. He is very grateful for it and can't thank you enough. Either that, or Prosciutto paid you to babysit him. - Will constantly cling on your arm when he's anxious. It's up to you whether you'll snap at him and slap his hand away, or just let him hang around you. He'll just simply grab your wrist, and sooner and later he'd have his body pressed against yours, completely clinging on the entirety of your arm. "D-don't leave me, Y/N! I'm scared—!" - He is extremely thankful for you watching over him and protecting and by this, he tries to improve himself a lot more just so he can confidently say he can watch over you and protect you as well - Just the sweetest little thing, whenever he'd be away with Prosciutto for a mission he'd return home bearing gifts from travel and he'd give it to you. It would be something either miniature, or something practical like a knife sharpener or something. "I-I got this for you... I hope you like it! Big bro helped me pick!" - Honestly, I can imagine him just being the best, supportive and encouraging friend there could be. If ever you needed someone to confide in, he'd just sit and listen and will certainly not repeat what you told him to others. He'll try his best to comfort

you, taking inspiration to how you comfort him and will just try his best to make you feel better. "I know life is rough and hard and bad, but you always told me it will change and soon it all be over and better. It's good that you recognise you're in a bad place, now you need to take a break and then later you won't even know you've already forgotten your problem! It's okay to be sad, too, but not for too long." - The type of friend that will share anything he has. He has a cookie with him? Shit, he'll split it in half and give the other half to you. Some soda? Well I hope you don't mind drinking from the same can as he is, he will give it to you. Melone - So this nerd isn't a complete creepy pervert, not entirely at all. He's chill for most of the time, so he's a neat company if you don't mind him bombarding you with questions regarding your genetics, heritage records, blood type, zodiac signs and whatnot. But knows when to stop. - You most likely befriended him because he is one of the chill people in the group... Somewhat. Or perhaps you just started to bond over mutual love for steamy, erotic novels from the same author. If this man has shame, his guilty pleasures would be reading these types of trashy novels filled with smut. - He is great as a wingman. Complain to him about your lack of a love life, he'll observe your types and he'll somehow come up with a list by the next day enthusiastically listing them to you in a PowerPoint presentation. "If you're into girls, I have this one right here! She's compatible with your zodiac sign, although she has quite the temper she can be extremely passionate and affectionate— or perhaps you're into men, that I have as well. Several, actually. This other fellow right here is also a part of Passione from the Human trafficking branch, stoic and quite a stern one, but knows when to lay low at times and appreciate those around him— either him or the girl, you'd make good babies together!" "Melone, what the fuck—" - Very touchy. He'd lean his head on your lap as you both read on the couch, or randomly put his head on your shoulder during meetings, grab you by the arm while crossing the road, smacking your ass as a greeting (if you tell him stop, he'd stop of course), will pretend to kiss you just so he can see your reaction, anything. He is one affectionate nut that he sometimes forget about personal spaces. If you're not particularly fond of being touched like I am, simply tell him nope. I mean, he'd be sad but will respect your boundaries. The only time he'll actually respect established boundaries, to be honest. - Knows the most random facts and will share them to you for the fun of it. Additional to that, he will also mutter his shower thoughts and random cursed facts out loud just so he can curse you with the knowledge and confusion. "Did you know that dolphins masturbate using dead fishes? Also, there was an experiment involving dolphins in which one of the scientist fell in love and had sex with it. Another fact, is that dolphins are also seen doing the deed—" "Okay, Melone, I get it! Dolphins aren't as innocent as they seem! Stop ruining it for me already!" ... "Did you know that a woman once used mayonnaise as a lubri—" "MELONE!" - Being his friends meaning being his impulse control. If he intends to use his Stand on some innocent passerby just for the heck of it (for science, as he claims), smack him by the wrist and glare at him. If he eyes a particular someone for too long that the person gets too uncomfortable, try to divert his attention away. "Ow! Y/N what the heck—!" "What did I told you about oogling at people? It's impolite and creepy, stop that!" - He may not seem like it, but bro he cares a lot. If ever you had a problem, he'd sit and listen, offer you his shoulder to cry on, and perhaps hang out to divert your attention away from what's bothering and hurting you. And if you need advice, he'll try his best to come up with a flawless solution to your problems. But if comfort is what you need, his arms are open baby. Ghiaccio

- Bro you must need emergency ear plugs for this one, he is a massive screamer, a ticking time bomb with no timer that will erupt at random. If ear plugs aren't enough, cover your ears. - Befriending him was an impulse control befriending him. Well, all you did was to constantly try to calm his tits and cool his head to the point he actually barges in your room to hang out so that he can cool his head from all of the shenanigans occuring all around him, or maybe he just had another thought about something maddening about the world. "WELL WHY?! WHY IS WOMEN'S CLOTHES SIZING CHART DIFFER FROM EACH STORE?! THAT DOESN'T EVEN MAKE SENSE! INCHES AND CENTIMETRES EXISTS FOR A REASON, DAMNIT!" - There are moments where he isn't screaming, thankfully and he's a decent person to talk to. If you're a listener, he'll do the talking, just ranting about things, rambling on and on, before complaining, and then another outbursts comes out. By this, you simply sigh, put a hand on his shoulder and talk to him in a gentle, calming voice. It usually does the trick. Formaggio and Melone joked about this talent of yours as witchcraft. - He appreciates you a lot and honestly doesn't know what to do without you and by that, he knows he has to reciprocate the care you give him somehow to show he is grateful of your friendship and care. He isn't the type to be physically affectionate, but he is extremely thoughtful about his closed loved onesa and prefers to be practical about it. He would save you your seat in meetings, fetch you snacks if he ran out for an errand, etc etc. Extremely observant of your mannerisms, that he might point that out to you and you won't even realise you do that. - So like, he is very protective as a friend. He will do something whenever someone has wronged you in any way. The others teasing you? Bam, he'll shoot them back with a witty insult. Your s/o cheated on you? Ohohoho boi, be prepared to see their name on a headline on the daily news. Your order was wrong? Bam, he'll have the waiter shaking in fear from a screaming, angry Italian mafioso as he demands for them to remake your order correctly. "WELL CAGACAZZO?! QUIT STANDING AROUND AND GET ORDERS CORRECTLY—" "G-Ghiaccio it's just a minor thing, let it go—" "THEY SERVED YOU AN INGREDIENT YOU SPECIFICALLY TOLD THEM NOT TO INCLUDE BECAUSE YOU'RE ALLERGIC TO IT! WHY ARE YOU LETTING THIS SLIDE OFF?!" - All in all, he's just glad you're there for him because damn, someday his temper is going to get the best of him and he doesn't know what to do. And with your friendship, he's learned how to cope with his spontaneous anger by carrying soothing stuff to ease his nerves (courtesy of your suggestions and gifts for him) - Basically the dynamic of a rapid gremlin with rabies and a calm, sunshine personified angel. Everyone (Riz, including, but he's more subtle and dry about it) joked about the unlikely friendship, and how your ears must've lost a little bit of hearing capacity. Rissoto - I feel like he'd be extremely attached to a childhood friend. You've been friends since before you underwent the drastic change by going through a lot to get to where he is now, and still the only person that stuck around with him was you. By that, you became the most trusted by him due to the fact you've known each other for very long. - As his best friend, you're his confidant and finds himself often going to you if ever he needed advice, or needed to vent about his stress. He really isn't vocal but when he's confiding in you, his words spill out of his mouth usually sealed tightly just steadily flows, his big strong Capo veneer falls apart in front of you but he doesn't necessarily feel unsafe by being vulnerable. That's how he trusts you. - No one will dare to bad mouth you in front of the Capo, or else there'd be hell to pay for. I mean, teasing is fine, he knows you can handle burns from team mates here and there (and will silently smirk at it) but he will not stand it if they attempt to belittle you for something unreasonable. "Watch your mouth. That was

out of their control, stop blaming them for something they can't do." - The type of friend that doesn't know how to comfort someone, but will try their best. So as you spill your heart out, tears, snot, sweat and all, he'll just pull you to his chest and awkwardly pat your shoulders to get you calm and comforted. Not to mention, he is extremely stiff at the hug and is very unsure what words to say to you to not upset or offend you any further, so he'll just ride it out smoothly, and let you let it all out on his chest. It's not like he can't wash your tears, snot and sweat on his chest anyways. - Since he is very non-vocal, he's a good listener so rant all the way! Complain about the weather, about your lack of love life, about how underpaid the hitmen team is, anything! He won't find the perfect response, so he'll just nod along and perhaps comment occasionally on what your saying. "So like, ugh, I am soooo frustrated at how Prosciutto could say that to Pesci! He makes a good point, but it's redundant for him to be too harsh on him! Look, all I'm saying is, maybe Prosciutto should start choosing his words correctly so that Pesci won't feel too upset! You know???" You glanced at your friend, as he simply sat attentively beside you. He nods silently as a response. "Anyways—" - Extremely great at deduction and the way he reads people so easily is so unreal. And so he uses this to his advantage to know what's up with you whenever you seemed off. By this, he's able to tell whenever you're upset but scared to talk about it, frustrated but too busy to talk about, etc etc. And with this, he takes the time to drag you to take a seat, and talk about what's been bothering you. If you don't wish to talk about it at all, he'll let you be after with a reassurance that you can overcome whatever the heck you're going through. - Everyone is surprised that you two aren't married??? That you're just friends??? The way you two look just makes you two look like a couple and it boggles the others how you two aren't one.

[smells-like-mettaton]

soriel, 1 (chocolate) for the ask game?

Like a Box of Chocolates

Rating: G Word Count: 2734 Read on AO3: here

---

"Ok. I brought a few choices," Sans said while sitting with his back to the door. He pulled a plastic sack full of chocolate and chocolate-adjacent treats out from under his shirt.

"Oh, you did not have to do that." The voice behind the door sounded embarrassed.

"It's no big deal." He shrugged instinctively, though she wouldn't be able to see it. "Not like I candy things like this for you very often."

The lady laughed, even though the pun was a stretch. She was a great audience like that.

"I cannot argue with that. After all, it is the choco-thought that counts."

Sans let out a wheeze. Man, she had him beat in the bad jokes department. He needed to up his game.

"What can I say, I'm a sweet guy." That joke would work better if she could see his wink.

"You certainly are, my friend."

Sans blinked. He hadn't been prepared for the genuine warmth in her voice. Now he felt something like a melted chocolate himself.

"Uh. You'd better wait and make sure I didn't pick out garbage before you say that." He chuckled nervously and spread out the chocolates in the snow.

"Alright. Hit me with your best choco-shot."

He laughed out loud at that one too. She could really squeeze some mileage out of chocolate puns.

"First off we have the MTT-Brand Chocolate Mettaton. Which is exactly what it sounds like. Chocolate in the shape of everyone's favorite robot superstar." He scanned the back of the wrapper. "Contains sequins and glitter, but it's still monster food, so probably won't cause any more indigestion than Temmie Flakes. Still, wouldn't blame ya if you passed on that."

The lady laughed. "I do not know this 'Mettaton,' but he sounds like someone…"

Her voice trailed off, the way it always did when she neared a personal topic. It seemed to be happening more and more often lately. Sans didn't know if that was a good sign, or if he needed to do a better job of distracting her.

"Someone I know would have liked that," she finished clumsily.

"Welp. It's yours, then." He attempted to slide it under the door.

Attempted. The thick block of chocolate wouldn't fit through the narrow space.

"What are my other options?" The lady asked, not seeming to hear his failure.

(Or just ignoring it. The way they always ignored things they didn't want to acknowledge.)

Oh well. He'd deal with that later, if she wanted to.

He picked up the next box and rattled it. It looked thin enough to fit under the door.

"I think this one's called, uh, pocket?” He couldn’t tell for sure, since the box was labeled in a language he didn’t recognize. Where did Alphys get this stuff? “A pal gave it to me. They’re like chocolate-covered sticks, I think."

"Not precisely what I was looking for, but I would love to try it regardless," she said. "If I am allowed to have both options, I mean. If not, I should probably stick with the Em-Tee-Tee."

Sans bit back a snort. So she hadn't heard after all. That made this a lot more awkward.

"Do you wanna hear the other options first? Wouldn't want ya to have any regrets."

"Oh! There are more?"

She sounded as surprised as a kid finding an extra fry in the bottom of their Grillby's bag. He couldn't help grinning.

"Yup. Next up is a chocolate spider donut—”

“Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders?” The voice seemed on the verge of laughter again.

His eyesockets widened. “Uh… welp. Guess you don’t need the whole spiel, huh?”

“There is a spider bakesale right around the corner from my home,” the lady explained. “I believe they are saving for a… ‘heated limo’? To travel safely through Snowdin. I wish I could help them, but I did not think to take much gold when I…”

Another dead end. That was fine, Sans could piece together enough. Not that her personal life was any of his business, anyway.

“If it makes ya feel any better, they really raked me over the coals for this one.”

“It does not!” came her quick reply. “I only asked for a chocolate bar. Not for you to spend money that you need on me.”

Geez, this lady was too good for him. As if Sans ever really went out of his way for anyone.

Except Papyrus, but he was family. And sometimes Grillby, if he felt bad about failing to pay his tab for too long. And Alphys, but he owed her for screwing off after space-time blew up in their faces.

And now, the lady behind the door. The lady he didn’t owe anything to, except a few good laughs.

Who was he kidding? Those laughs were more important to him than anything.

“Eh, it just cost me one day of selling ‘dogs. Donut worry about it.”

“Very well. Since it was for a good cause, I will not grill you any further. But please tell me that was the last chocolate you purchased for me.”

“It’s the last one I purchased.” He grinned. While she couldn’t see his expression, she must have heard the but in his voice.

“Please tell me you did not steal any chocolate for me.”

“Geez, lady, what do you take me for? I’d never commit petty thievery.”

“Well, that is reassuring.”

“Yep. Gotta save room for the real high-dollar crimes. Like the illegal hot dog stand.”

The voice behind the door went silent. He wished he could see her face now more than ever. His own grin slowly slid from his skull.

“Everyone knows about it,” he reassured her. “If the King really wanted to shut me down, he’d have done it a long time ago.”

“Oh, I am not judging you for that. I am sure the law is rigged against you if the King has any say in it.” Her voice was surprisingly bitter.

His real problem was that he couldn’t ever find the necessary documents to get licensed in food preparation. His birth certificate was presumably in whatever alternate dimension his old man had blasted them out of.

“You are judging me for something, though,” he realized. The chill of the snow seeped into his bones, but he didn’t dare adjust his position. Somehow he felt that if he moved, she would disappear.

“I am not. I was only thinking about…” She sighed. “It is complicated. There was a time when I could have helped you, but it is long past.”

“Help me? Look, lady, the ‘dog stand is fine. Promise. Better than fine, since I don’t gotta pay taxes on it.”

She chuckled at that.

“Very well. Forgive a silly old lady for worrying.”

“Done.” He smiled, settling back against the door more comfortably.

He should’ve known she’d have a problem with his illegal activities, though. She was a classy lady, and he was… him. Why had he even brought it up? It wasn’t a great joke. Did he really just want her to know?

Eh, whatever. She wasn’t mad, so no harm done, right?

“I would like to know how you acquired this other chocolate, if it was not through your sticky fingers.” She sounded like she was grinning.

“Huh? Oh.” He blinked and dug out the last chocolate of the bunch. Blue dusted his cheeks. “QC—that’s the lady who runs the shop in town—gave ‘em to me for free. They’re called, uh, kisses.”

QC had a knowing look in her eyes when she’d offered the bag of chocolates to him. It was his own fault for implying they were for a girl. Everyone already thought he screwed around in the woods on his shifts, and with the way gossip travelled in a small town, everyone at Grillby’s would be asking about his girlfriend tonight.

“Kisses,” the lady behind the door echoed. “This is not one of your jokes, is it?”

“Not this time. Sorry to disappoint.” His grin felt too tight. “They’re, uh, tiny chocolates. Kinda cone-shaped? QC makes ‘em herself, so they’ve gotta be good.”

“Oh.” Oddly, the voice did sound disappointed. Sans couldn’t imagine why. Not like he could kiss her through the door, even if he had lips. And even if there was some unlikely timeline where she wanted a kiss from him.

He wanted to thump his skull back against the door, but there was no point in worrying her like that.

“In that case, I will take the kisses. They will be perfect for…”

He was sure she would leave it at that. Cover up with some non sequitur.

So his eyesockets went wide when she said, “for the anniversary of my child’s passing.”

“Oh.” He let out a strangled little laugh. “I—geez, I’m sorry. If I’d known—”

“You would have what? Spent even more money on this silly old lady, who cannot even leave to buy her child’s favorite chocolate?” Her voice was firm. “No. I thought you deserved to know, after the trouble you went to, and because you shared your own secret with me today.”

“My ‘dog stand is hardly a secret,” he said, still feeling a little shaky. She had a kid? A dead kid?

Well, who in the Underground didn’t have skeletons in their closet? Metaphorically or literally. She was still his best friend. If she wanted his pity, she would’ve said something sooner.

“Regardless,” she said. “It is in the past. Forget it, if you wish. But please do not treat me any differently.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said sincerely. If there was one thing he was good at, it was maintaining the status quo. “So, uh. These chocolates. I kind of wanted you to have all of ‘em, if that’s alright with you.”

“It would be rude to refuse a gift, would it not?” She sounded like she was smiling again, to his relief.

“There’s just one problem. Uh. Don’t think they’re all gonna fit under the door.” He rapped on the stone surface with his knuckle for emphasis.

“I did not assume they would. The recipe I gave you before hardly passed through.”

Sans blinked. “Then you—huh?”

“I will open the door just a fraction. It can only be done from the inside.” She paused, like she was gathering a breath. “I would ask that you do not look. I promise I will not peek, either.”

Sans’s ribcage tightened. She was going to open the door. She would be right there, with no stone between them.

The thought opened a desperate floodgate within him. He hadn’t realized just how badly he wanted to see her, to know her, to live off of more than just scraps and unfinished sentences.

She once had a child. She had some kind of beef against the King. She wanted to give charity to spiders, but didn’t have enough money. All these facts he filed away, tucking them into the grooves in his ribcage.

It would be enough. He’d duct tape those gates shut again, if he had to. He wasn’t going to betray the trust she’d shown him.

“Got it. You don’t wanna be smitten by my good looks, I understand,” he joked.

(He had a feeling it would be the other way around, if anything. Not that quality of jokes translated to quality of appearance—he would know. If it did, he’d have biceps like his brother.)

“It would be tragic. Much too high a price for you to handsome chocolate to me.”

“Heh, I’m sure you’re a door-able too. But I’ll keep my sockets shut, since our friendship hinges on it.”

That got a raucous laugh out of her, the kind that started off high-pitched and quickly became something of a snorting bleat. That sound was sweeter than chocolate to him.

...Man, his pals at Grilby’s would be right to dunk on him. He was a massive dork.

“Alright,” she said once she caught her breath, “if you are ready, my friend…”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “Better choco-late than never, huh?”

That one only got a snort, but he wasn’t sure if that was because the pun fell flat, or because she was nervous. As far as he knew, she hadn’t been outside of the Ruins in years. And here she was, trusting a sentry—someone whose job it was to keep a look out—to turn a blind eye.

It was a good thing he’d never been good at his job.

Stone ground against stone with a dramatic rumble. His eyesockets stayed shut. Warmth emanated from somewhere near his shoulder, and he lifted the bag of chocolates.

His small hand brushed a large fur-covered one. A shiver trailed down his spine. One small touch shouldn’t have done so much to him, but—but she was real. She was more than just a voice behind a door. Which he knew, but knowing and feeling could be worlds apart at times.

She took the bag, and the moment was over. But the door didn’t close.

“My dear friend,” she whispered, her voice sounding closer than ever. “Would it be presumptuous to ask another favor of you?”

“‘Course not. Glad to do a favor for my favor-ite person.” He kept his tone light, unaffected by the swirling emotions inside him.

“If I could… oh, dear, this is embarrassing.”

He resisted the urge to open his eyes, to see what look might be on her face.

“It has simply been so long… may I hold your hand a moment longer?”

He felt the marrow heating within his bones.

“That all? I gotta hand it to ya, you made me think you needed an arm and a leg.”

She chuckled before awkwardly fumbling to grasp his hand again.

Heat poured from her palm into his phalanges. Aside from the fur, there were several spots of soft skin—probably paw pads. Was she a dog monster, like the Canine Unit in town? She didn’t make nearly enough dog jokes for that to be the case. Her laugh sounded more like a goat’s, but she obviously didn’t have hooves. Maybe she was some kind of chimera? You didn’t see those often nowadays, but then again, no one saw monsters from the Ruins, either.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice as soft as the snow that began to drift around him.

“Not disappointed?” He asked, only half-joking. “My hand can’t be as comfy as yours.”

“Ah, but it is all your bone. And that is wonderful to me.”

“Geez, old lady.” He was grateful she couldn’t see his blush. “You’re pretty fur-fect yourself.”

When she laughed, her body shook all the way down to her hand. The feeling more than made up for all the G he’d spent on chocolate and donuts.

Suddenly his hand was being lifted up, and then something soft pressed against his knuckles. His soul flared erratically, and his eyes nearly flew open. If they had, he was sure his left eyelight would have been blue from shock.

“A kiss for a kiss,” she said slyly. “It is only fair.”

“Heh heh…” His voice shook with more than laughter. “Technically, that was one kiss for a bag of kisses. Pretty sure that math doesn’t square up.”

“Oh, you are quite right! One day we will have to circle back and rectify that.”

He practically had to cast gravity magic on himself to keep his eyes from flying open.

“You—huh?” He said intelligently.

“Perhaps not soon,” she clarified. “This has all been… a lot, for me. But thanks to you, my dear friend, this day has not been so bitter as I am used to.”

“Uh, no problem, then. With all that chocolate, I hope it’s sweet.”

Sweet as the anniversary of a death could be, anyway. He grimaced. Maybe that joke was too soon, but she just squeezed his hand before finally letting go.

“I do think it will be,” she said softly. “I will look forward to hearing more of your punny jokes tomorrow.”

The door scraped shut, and he hesitantly opened his eyes. He couldn't help inspecting the door to see if anything changed. Pressing his still-warm hand against the smooth stone.

“Heh. Good luck getting rid of me now.” He grinned.

Then he tucked his hands in his pockets, where her kiss remained like a tattoo on his bone.