#GOES CRAZY BANANAS

[thebananwithaplan]

. "....I wonder if I should one day find the Flower Kingdom and snag some of those new power ups?"

[r144l3r]

they say nighty night!!!!

[oozedninjas]

Any Leo fucking you when he's needy honestly

Warnings: 18+ / MDNI / NSFW / Smutish / Leo is late 20's to early 30's / general verses

Needy!Leo loves it when you breathe into his mouth, panting as he thrusts into you at just the right pace. Fuck, he missed you so much.

Needy!Leo loves it when you close your legs around his head when he goes down on you—losing his mind when you tug the banana, rubbing yourself to his face desperate to reach your peak. So fucking delicious, he drinks it all down.

Needy!Leo is crazy about your moans, he adores hearing how good he makes you feel.

Needy!Leo loves holding you so close to his plastron you can barely breathe, but god, your clit feels amazing grinding against his lower belly, that you almost don't care.

Needy!Leo stays inside after he's fucked his cum deep in your real good, slowly catching his breath as he holds you close. You're good for him, so soft and warm—what do you mean you can't breathe? This is no time for air, it's time for cuddles.

[hunterrrs]

Bike rides, banana bread and being ‘a bullet’: How Sidney Crosby leads Penguins into a new era - SUCH A GOOD ARTICLE (also baby sid buying a car...)

Whether it was when Crosby baked banana bread for the Penguins two years ago or all the times he has recognized something was up with a teammate and checked in on them, everybody seems to have at least one Sid story to share.

Just as striking to these fledgling Penguins has been seeing how Crosby goes out of his way to make every one of them feel like part of the team.

“He’s so welcoming. It’s honestly crazy how he’s a better person than he is a player given how outstanding he is as a player,” prospect Jonathan Gruden said. “But he’s just an unbelievable person who makes you feel like you’ve been here 18, 20 years along with [Evgeni Malkin and Kris Letang]. It’s incredible.”

For Broz, it was that ride on the exercise bikes or sticking around after an informal skate in the middle of July to share pointers with a prospect. For Gruden, it was Crosby texting a young pro who had just gotten called up to the NHL and inviting him over to his house to watch football with the guys.

And for Rutger McGroarty, it started with the text message that Crosby sends many players when they join the organization and quickly evolved from there.

It had been a whirlwind week for McGroarty when the Penguins finalized a trade to acquire him in August. His phone would not stop buzzing as the congratulatory messages poured in. As McGroarty scrolled through them, he froze.

“Oh, it’s Sidney Crosby! Not a normal text you’d get on your average day,” he said. “I was actually sitting next to a couple of my buddies and I showed them.”

A month later, McGroarty was cracking up on the bench at a joke Crosby made.

“He’s a really funny guy,” the 20-year-old said. “It feels like there’s no age gap.”

Crosby sat back at his locker stall at the practice rink the other day, flecks of gray peeking through his black hair and sweat dripping off his chin, as he thoughtfully discussed his leadership style and getting through to Generation Z. For example, McGroarty was literally in diapers when Crosby made his debut.

“I try to put myself in their shoes, but obviously things change. They evolve,” Crosby said. “I think the biggest thing as a rookie is just all the unknowns. You’re in a new league, new team, new teammates, new city. Everything is new. The faster you feel comfortable, that’s a huge part of being able to be at your best.”

Crosby knows his first taste of the league was different, right down to living with Lemieux. He laughed while joking that all these kids won’t crash on his couch.

For the 20th straight season, Crosby is trying to get the Penguins on the same page. They will ice a veteran-heavy team in Wednesday’s season opener. But eventually, the kids are coming — sooner should the team struggle again this fall.

Crosby’s little gestures will help these prospects feel more at home when they arrive. They still may be a bit starstruck. But they will know they belong here.

“It may not seem like it,” Gruden said. “But to a young guy, it means a lot.”

[ilylovelyz]

⍣ ೋ fool(s) in love

˚ · . bakugou katsuki x afab!reader

: ̗̀➛ no real warnings, just bakugou daydreaming abt y/n, slight possessiveness on baku's part, mentions of sexual activity, a bit angsty ?, based off "fools in love" by inara george, mentions of pregnancy and marriage

everything you do, everywhere you go now, everything you touch, everything you feel, everything you see, everything you know now, everything you do, you do it for your baby love

fools in love. are there any different kind of lovers?

fools in love, bringing all sorts of feelings, bringing such joy—yet a devasting amount of pain for no reason.

bakugou thinks this as he scrolls mindlessly on his phone, his fingers pressing on your icons and pages.

his red eyes stare at your most recent pictures and stories, checking if you've sent any new messages to him, but there are no new ones because it's 4AM and you're dead asleep and he's here out patrolling. he stalks your page like a stranger, looking at all your highlights and comment sections of your posts, wanting to see for any recent activity. he goes through your followers, not even caring to check your following because you don't even follow people back like that. he scoffs at the new followers, men.

he exits out of the app, instead opening up his phone gallery. he does this without thinking, he's been doing this for awhile. to be specifc, for a couple of years, maybe around the time you and him got serious as a couple.

his mind subconsciously wanders to the memories he has of you, replaying those precious yet idiotic moments over and over. he lets out a sudden chuckle when he thinks of the time you slipped cartoonishly on a banana peel—the banana peel he purposely placed on the floor because he didn't actually think you were dumb enough to slip on it.

but you did—you slipped on it. and then you cried. cried like a baby, and the memory just has bakugou trying to hold back his laughter in order to not seem like a crazy person. looking around, he resumes his daydreaming.

how unusual it is for him to daydream. yeah—he has dreams and aspirations—ones that revolve around him as the world's #1 hero and being beating that dork deku. but what he's dreaming of now has him thinking long and hard.

the corners of his lips twitch up into a soft smile, his red eyes gleaming at the thought of you. the thought of maybe the relationship he has with you going on for longer than what is now. the relationship, growing and growing—just like you and him, reaching important milestones. milestones so important, like having your legal first sip of alcohol with him, buying a house together—or even something way more serious and commiting than that, like marriage.

like seeing you grin and cry tears of happiness when he pops the big question. or a year later, seeing you in a big white poofy dress, similar to a princess dress—because you certainly act like one. and seeing you walk down the aisle to him, all blushed and nervous like how you easily are. his tongue peeks out to lick his lips when he imagines him kissing you as his bride, finally making you his wife.

then there are the years of marriage. the first year, the repeated honeymoon stage, where you'll be sticking to him like glue, waiting in the living room from his return from a long day at work and practically pouncing on him because you missed him so much. the stage where neither of you will be able to keep your hands off each other, kisses and touches fervent and desperate for the other.

then the second year, when you'll be kicking him out of bed and throwing the TV remote at his head when he refuses to order you food at 12AM. maybe this year, or the next, with last year's effort, you'll end up pregnant with your first child, his child. preferably a girl, one that has your cute face but certainly not your bratty tendencies.

then the next years will pass in a blur, maybe you'll bear him another brat or two, giving him the family he secretly wants. you'll be the mother of his children, the matching pepper shaker to his salt shaker. you'll grow old with him, becoming more cranky and argumentative with him about which show to watch. he'll call you a grandma, a old hag, then he'll begin reading signs and posters for you when your eyesight is so shitty after your constant years of nights of being on your phone at full brightness in the dark.

then he'll finally retire and buy the two of you a nice home, preferably near a beach as you'd love. the two of you will spend the rest of your life there, still arguing about what to have for dinner and then go to sleep with your nails caressing the skin of his spine.

when it's that time, before he's too old to make sensible decisions, he'll write out instructions to whoever will take care of you when he leaves. he'll be the one to die first, he doesn't like the idea of living without you. he'll make sure to write in bold letters that you don't like tomatoes or onions, and that you need to be reminded to drink at least two cups of water a day because you're forgetful like that.

he'll buy the two of you shared graves, matching caskets. of course he leaves your side of the grave blank, you'll live on to live without him for many more years despite your horrible diet consisting mainly of soda and candy.

you'll pass away in your sleep, painless and unaware, warm and tucked in the bed you used to share with him. then, you'll join him in the afterlife, slapping and hitting him for leaving you "so early".

bakugou's eyes reopen to his supervisor bidding him farewell, telling him his shift is open and go home and rest. he makes his way home, cussing out the train station workers when his train is delayed by 5 minutes.

when he gets finally gets home, he sets down the teddy bear he bought you on your side of the bed, careful to not awake you. he strips himself of his hero suit, debating whether or not to sleep and then take a shower later, or to take a shower now and then sleep.

you answer for him, sitting up from the bed to sleepily wrap your arms around the small of his waist, the same waist you were cussing him out over due to jealousy. you pull him onto the bed, mumbling little "i miss you"s while also damning him to hell for working so late.

you ignore the fact he smells like shit, that he's dirty and needs to take a shower. instead, you glide your pedicured nails that he paid for over the exposed skin of his shoulders, making their way up his nape then to his hair. he practically purrs at the goosebumps that rise on his skin, his eyes fluttering shut with the way you're lulling him to sleep against his will like you always do.

as he gives in to the heavy weight of sleep, his mind comes back to that wonderful dream he had. though, it goes away once he does fall asleep. he doesn't mind, after all, you're both still young and barely 20. you two have many years ahead, and hopefully, you'll be spending those years with him.

please repost with tags :)

[thehauntedetheral]

Omg i love your yandere baker so much, he's so cute 😭🫶. We need more of him pls? 😔🙏. How about when y/n start gaining on weight cause y/n keep eating his cake and then she stop going to his bakery for a while and also avoid him a lot cause meeting him means stuffing your face with his cake (dude def love seeing y/n eating his food) and that led to him going crazy 💀

Part 1 : https://www.tumblr.com/thehauntedetheral/757598004742176768/can-we-get-a-yandere-baker-x-reader-pls-thank?source=share

Omg i love your yandere baker so much, he's so cute 😭🫶. We need more of him pls? 😔🙏. How about when y/n start gaining on weight cause y/n keep eating his cake and then she stop going to his bakery for a while and also avoid him a lot cause meeting him means stuffing your face with his cake (dude def love seeing y/n eating his food) and that led to him going crazy 💀

Yandere Baker Pt. 2

Requests are open !

• "Nooooo!!!!" This was your first reaction when you measured your current weight on the machine.

• You have gained quite a lot weight you thought looking at the number on the machine.

• Today at office a coworker said to you that you were looking quite chubby this days and that led you to this checking out your weight.

• You looked at the mirror and thought to yourself that now you have to go on diet as you cheeks looked a bit chubby and your weight increased.

• You didn't want to go on a diet because that would mean not going to your favourite bakery, seeing the cute baker and eating his delicious treats.

• The mouthwatering pastries and cakes are now replaced by veggies, fruits and nutritional food.

• It has been a huge record that you have not gone to the bakery since 5 days.

• Your absence made yan worried about you and sad.

• "Are my baking skills not good now?" He thought while waiting for you but you didn't came.

• He would look at you through bakery glass wall jogging in morning. He would come out and call out for you "Y/n I just baked your favourite pastry, come inside and let's have a taste." While holding the tray with mouthwatering pastries at you.

The aroma, the beautiful texture tempted you but you would just start running away yelling "Next time yan right now busy exercising".

• This made him incredible sad thinking "what will I do now if my y/n isn't eating my pastries and cakes?"

• Will definitely cry for hours in his bakery sitting alone in a corner.

• Going crazy thinking "are my baking skills not enough now? Does she not like me anymore now? I baked her favourite and yet she refused, this is not my y/n."

• Enough is enough he goes to your home one day ringing the bell like a maniac with a box filled with your favourites. Wanting to know why his favourite customer isn't coming anymore????!!!!!

•You opened the door and invited him inside explaining the whole weight gain thing.

• He is just shocked looking at you with unbelievable expression. You and getting fat? IMPOSSIBLE.

• According to him you are absolutely perfect and not at all chubby, fat, skinny or anything.

• Thinks of beating that co worker who made you think you are gaining weight. Even though he is not a violence person.

• According to him you are not gaining weight you are just becoming more healthy with his love which he is pouring on you through his baked goods.

• He tries to convince you that you are not gaining weight and you need to come to bakery as usual.

• But when you don't agree he comes with a plan.

• This man starts a new section in his bakery with title "SUGAR FREE BAKED GOODS" which has no sugar and is made from only healthy stuffs only. Like sugar free bananas muffins, oatmeal cookies which health influencer shows on their channel even though it is totally against his baking ethics. But this man would do anything for you. For you to eat his food. After all this man's love language is feeding you his handmade food.

• His bakery now has oatmeal cookies, apple donuts which is nothing but fruits cutted and some healthy toppings on it. Making all this in his bakery even though he hates it as he loves making stuff filled with cream, toppings, chocolate etc.

• But he will do anything to have you back at bakery and eat.

• His sale increased as he was selling both cream fillied delicious pastries and healthy sugar free things made from apples and berries and oatmeal etc.

• His bakery was all over the internet viral through health influencer videos you followed which made you go to the bakery too.

• You ate the healthy stuff and even complimented him on this new business ideas of his (only if you knew that he started all this for you)

• He was happy that you would come sometimes at bakery for the healthy stuff now.

• But he was not elated as you were not coming everyday and eating those baked stuff which made you happy.

• He would come with you on morning joggings to be near you.

• After a month with your exercise and dieting you loss a good amount of weight. Which made you happy.

• Upon your success in weight lossing he gave you a small cupcake of your favourite icing.

"Come on y/n I made it for your celebration on losing weight. I wanted to make a cake but I know you won't eat it so I made a little cupcake. And come on all the health influencers says you should reward yourself with a little treat after work. And a little cupcake won't hurt." He said manipulating you with his puppy eyes and pretty words.

And the cupcake he made for you looks so tempting that you ate it thinking a little cupcake won't hurt. You ate it and felt like you were in heaven again eating it after a month. You missed all this so bad!!!

• Well you have fallen again now in his sweet baked trap coming everyday eating crossiant, pastry, cake while yan tells you " a little won't hurt y/n you have already loss weight and you also eat the nutritious food I made it's all balance" he says while feeding you his delicious treats being happy that you are back to eating his baked goods.

• Seems like you are never gonna be able to escape his pastries and the good looking baker who makes it.

For more yandere reading :

[galaxymagitech]

Tim is an excellent fighter…but he’s not the best.

He’s great with computers…but Oracle could outhack him.

He’s an amazing detective…but Batman is still the best.

No. What Tim brings to the table is that he’s absolutely, incredibly unhinged. Like—all Batfamily members are, but Tim has a unique brand of crazy. His brain goes problem —> solution, without any filter of “is this a logical, sensible plan?”

Tim will take so many insane things in stride. Did he set out to become Robin? Nope, but he’s Robin now! Oh, he met Lady Shiva? Well, she’s terrifying, but he does need to learn fighting while trying to defeat this powerful villain who appeared and is way out of his league. And then there’s the entirety of Young Justice. Tim sees one (1) portrait, concludes that Bruce must be lost in time, and then spends a year of his life on this hunch—and he’s correct. Oh, Ra’s al Ghul wants to talk to him? Well, that’s fine, he’ll just chat with the immortal cult leader while becoming an international art thief. He acknowledges that his life is crazy, but he doesn’t let that stop him!

This sort of reminds me of that old Batman movie where Batman and Robin come up with the most ridiculous answers to the Riddler’s riddles (a ballpoint banana, anyone?) and they’re right. Tim is just tapped into the DC universe’s insanity.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Pregnant II

Hardersson x Baby!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Pernille's pregnancy

During the first month, you're about the size of a poppy seed.

Pernille's fine on her own during this period. She has a little bit of spotting and feels a bit more tired than usual but she's mainly okay. Since the announcement, her teammates have been more careful on the pitch with her.

Everyone knows that the risk of miscarrying is higher before the third month so they all take care not to knock into her as much or, at least, to not hit her head on.

Magda, it seems, is the only one completely stressed out of her mind. She sends regular texts to check in with Pernille. She calls every day (once in the morning and once in the evening).

If she didn't have commitments in England then Pernille's sure that Magda would have flown over daily.

By the second month, you're the size of a kidney bean.

The symptoms have gotten a little worse by now. The tiredness has been replaced by sore breasts and the spotting by morning sickness. It's still manageable and Pernille doesn't even think to tell Magda until she misses a morning call in favour of hunching over the toilet and spewing out her guts.

"Her heart's developing now," Magda's voice comes through the phone, echoing around the tiled walls of Pernille's bathroom," And her brain too. Do you think she'll be smart? I think she'll be smart."

"We don't know if it's a girl yet, Magda," Pernille says. She's still leaning against the toilet but Magda's voice is safe and soothing.

"I know it's a girl," Magda replies, an air of finality in her tone," A little Pernille."

"She's your egg. She'll be a little Magda."

Pernille can hear the smile in Magda's voice as she replies," I made you admit she's a girl."

At the end of month three, you're the same size as a lime.

The morning sickness is extremely bad now and Magda even flies out when she hears from Nilla that Pernille had thrown up on the side of the pitch one morning.

"This brings back memories," Magda quips as she holds Pernille's hair back.

"Of what?"

"Crazy parties in our youth."

"We're still young, Magda. Becoming parents doesn't automatically make us old," Pernille sits up and takes the washcloth from her partner.

"Yeah, but we're more mature now. No more crazy parties and throwing up."

"None recently," Pernille corrects. She smiles for a moment before hunching over the toilet bowl again.

Magda rubs her back. "I've taken a few weeks off," She says," You keep getting sick."

"Magda-"

"No, I've already made my decision. International break is soon anyway. Our next match isn't too difficult. They don't really need me."

Pernille can't find it in herself to argue about it much, with the way that she sags against the wall and stays within arm's length of the toilet.

Magda kisses her stomach. "You're making your Momma sick," She says," You've got to leave her alone. You're still growing in there."

At month four, you're around the size of an avocado.

The morning sickness has stopped completely now but the soreness in her breasts doesn't subside at all.

It's completely coincidental when, one evening as she's changing her shirt, Pernille catches the sight of herself in the mirror.

She's got a baby bump now.

Instantly, her hand goes to touch it, as if she could feel exactly where you are.

She takes a picture and sends it to Magda.

She can see that it's been read but Magda doesn't reply for hours until finally...

MAGDA ❤️ you look so beautiful that's my new lockscreen

It's month five. You're the same length as a banana.

She could have found out earlier but Pernille waits until Magda can make the trip to find out your gender.

"A girl." Magda is still convinced as they sit in the waiting room, her hand stroking over Pernille's knuckles. "I know she's a girl."

"We'll see."

Pernille feels a bit vindictive so has the doctor write your gender on a scrap of paper, folds it up and hands it to Frido (who has come to visit).

"Huh?" Frido says as she looks down at the scunched-up ball of paper.

"You're in charge of that," Pernille says," Magda doesn't see it, she doesn't take it before the gender reveal."

"You guys are planning a gender reveal?"

Pernille shakes her head. "No. You are."

By month six, you're as big as an ear of corn.

You move around a lot now and Pernille never forgets the look on Magda's face when, one evening, Pernille grasps her hand and places it over her swollen stomach.

You kick almost every day and Pernille rubs her stomach softly as Frido hands her and Magda a knife.

"I bought cake," Frido proclaims," Because this is a celebration and you can't go wrong with cake."

Someone (Pernille's not sure who) on the Wolfsburg team rolls it out.

"If it's blue, it's a boy. If it's pink, it's a girl," Frido explains even though it really didn't need explaining. She's taking her role as future moster very seriously and it's slightly amusing.

"It'll be pink," Magda says," I know it will."

Frido rolls her eyes. "Then cut it. But...just wait until the camera's on. Okay! Ready? Ready!"

Magda's hand is warm around Pernille's, who is holding the knife in her own. They make two cuts into the cake, one after the other, and then pull out the slice.

"A girl," Pernille says softly, smiling as her team celebrates around her. She looks up at Magda, whose eyes are glistening with unshed tears.

"A girl."

Month seven and the only thing different is now you're the size of a large aubergine.

Her doctor has said that you can hear now so she spends countless nights with a pair of headphones on her stomach, playing voice notes Magda has sent throughout the day for you.

It's amusing. They're mostly nonsense, Magda just talking about her day and all the things she looks forward to doing with you but it's incredibly sweet and Pernille ends up crying every time.

Month eight comes around and now you're the same size as a cabbage.

Pernille's back aches more than ever and you enjoy sitting on her bladder so she has to take a bathroom break more often.

The highlight of the month comes when Magda comes over and lifts her bump, allowing Pernille to sag against her and feel slightly weightless for a little bit.

At month nine, you're the same as a head of lettuce.

She and Magda have been arguing over names for months now. There's a list pinned to the fridge and each of them takes a lot of pride in crossing out the other's suggestions in healthy competition.

Your last name is still up for debate too, as is your middle (but, somehow, Frido's gotten in on that action and has been texting Pernille suggestions for weeks now).

Pernille's having trouble getting to sleep too and you get more active than before. Rather than kicking though, it's your little fists thumping against her stomach (something that, many years in the future, she will tell Zećira was you foreshadowing).

Her doctor told her it was normal but it's still a bit disconcerting to see the tiny imprints of your even tinier fingers poking from the inside out.

By month ten (and Pernille hates that she's been lied to and pregnancy does not, in fact, end in the ninth month), you're the same size as a pumpkin.

She feels ready to pop but restless at the same time.

Magda's meant to be flying out later today but Pernille is in desperate need of some fresh air so she pulls on some clothes and gets herself ready to head to the Wolfsburg grounds.

[selkiemaidenfae]

spike and buffy would go to gay bars with willow and tara to attend drag shows and buffy at first would be like “oh he’s been around since victorian times i bet he’ll be a little uncomfortable” and meanwhile spike is the loudest motherfucker there just screaming his head off at the drag queen going shitball crazy in the middle of the dance floor throwing all his ones and planning his own routine in his head

he performs it for buffy in their bedroom and she goes so fucking banana balls sucking his dick after that he’s like yeah an audience would probably like this too

his drag queen persona is slightly styled after buffy with a dumb name like the heterosexuality slayer and she thinks it’s fuckin great

[johnwickb1tsch]

🌻Small Town Girl🌻 ~ Part 1

Tex Johnson thought he was just passing through…until he set his eyes on you. 

A little Tex x Reader fic for my beloved @treedaddymcpuffpuff. I love you bool!!! I hope you like this. It’s a mix of you and me and shit i made up and The Gift and conversations we’ve had and that silly rodeo fic we talked about and probably some sookie stackhouse and justified and longmire and other cowboy media that lives rent free in my brain at all times 😆 this is like 7000 words i apologize in advance…🙃 ILYSM!!!

Warnings: mentions of past spousal abuse, mentions of animal abuse, religious trauma...you know, the usual social problems of depressed rural america... I can say that because I live here. divider by strangergraphics-archive

To be fair, you saw the trouble coming from a mile away.

Or at least…a hundred yards, because that’s where he parked his ‘69 Chevelle outside the diner in the middle of your shift. You watched him swagger up in denim, boots, and a bitchin’ fringe leather jacket out the corner of your eye, because you were taking someone’s order. And you cursed the gods when he sprawled himself in a seat in your section, long legs extended out partly in the aisle. He was going to trip someone–or maybe he was just hoping you’d ask him sweetly to move those fancy-tooled shit-kickers to their proper position.

Your capacity for sweetly went up in smoke about an hour ago.

“Hi, can I get you started with something to drink?”

He looks up at you, all dark eyes and smoldering charm–yes, you’re sure he knows it, too–offering up a half smile that makes your heart stop even though you tried to brace yourself. And wow, goddamn if he doesn’t have the balls to look you up and down before answering, “Think I’m in the mood for somethin’ sweet.” His smile widens as you narrow your eyes down at him. 

“You want a milkshake?”

You swear there is a sparkle in his eye as you ask it. 

“Why yes, I believe I do. What flavor you got?”

You blink, heat blooming across your chest and up your neck. He sees it too, the cheeky bastard, that devil-may-care curl of lips widening more. 

“We have chocolate, vanilla, strawberry, and banana.” 

“Hmm. That’s a hard choice, darlin’.” 

“You need some time to think about it?” 

He chuckles at your sass. “Nah. How ‘bout vanilla. With a cherry on top?” 

“Hard to find ‘round here, but I’ll see what I can do,” you deadpan, doodling with concentration on your order pad. 

This tickles his funny bone something fierce, those lovely eyes shining. Good Lord, it’s just not fair, the types of temptation the Devil is allowed to set in front of you mere mortals. 

However, you’re not falling for it. You’re not. You learned the hard way to be wary of tall, dark, and handsome men with a bit of the devil in them. Because before you were y/n y/ln, your name was Mrs. Donnie Barksdale, and you’ve got the scars to prove it.

“Comin’ right up, mister.” 

“Tex.”

“Pardon?”

“That’s my name. Tex.”

He is a charming bastard. You’re not falling for it. You just gotta keep telling yourself that. 

“Obviously an alias.” With the tip of your tennis shoe you nudge his big booted foot out of the aisle. “You’re gonna hurt someone with them things.” 

“Well, we wouldn’t want that.”   

You were not playing footsie with this gorgeous stranger. You were just moving a tripping hazard. 

You’re not falling for it.

You’re not so convinced either, as you go to make his drink. 

***

A little later, when you bring out his burger and fries, he asks, “Why don’t you set with me a while?” 

You roll your eyes, withdrawing a roll of silverware from your apron. “I can’t sit down and jaw with you, I’ll get fired.” 

He gives you a pouty face, and it should be illegal for a grown-ass-man to look so cute. “When’s your break?”

“Not for hours,” you lie.

“I’ll wait for you, darlin’.” 

You snort in answer to that, even while a storm of butterflies goes crazy in your belly. 

“Surely you have somethin’ better to do.”

He shrugs. “I just finished a job. Takin’ time for a little vacation on my way home.” 

“Oh yeah? What do you do?”

“Erm…I’m in situational…solutions…management.”

“Wow. That’s not vague at all. You in the mob or somethin’?” you tease.

He lifts a brow, but doesnt answer immediately. It gives you an uneasy feeling, before he flashes that good ol’ boy smile again.

“Wouldn’t that be some shit?”

Sometimes you get feelings about things, and there is something about this man that makes you uneasy. You think your first instincts were right about him. He needs to be kept at arm’s length. Or maybe the proverbial ten foot pole would be more ideal. The sooner he moves on down the highway, the better. 

He lingers long after his burger and shake are gone, people watching, looking out the window…and looking at you. You can feel his gaze on you, like he is a wolf waiting patiently in the treeline for his opportune moment. You have to walk past him after taking a family their order of food, and he asks you, “So what do you do for fun in a little town like this?” 

“We’re all Baptists ‘round here, mister, no fun allowed.”

He scoffs, eyes still shining, but you can tell, his patience is finally wearing a little thin. Well, good. Hopefully he’ll get the hint and go. You’re sure a man who looks like him, tall and strapping and handsome as a movie star, is used to women throwing themselves at him. Maybe he thought you’d be a quick score because you’d be grateful for the attention. Boy howdy, did he read you wrong.  

“Did I see a sign for a rodeo a street back?” 

“Yeah, the fair and rodeo’s here this weekend.”

“Not your idea of fun?” 

“Yes and no. I don’t like seein’ the animals get mistreated.” Not all of them were, of course. But the boys could be a little rough when they were roping the young steers, and you knew you’d have a bone to pick with the owner of the local petting zoo later. 

“Huh. No, that’s not fun. Someone should do something about it.” That sparkle has returned to those polished onyx orbs, and you are equal parts intrigued and wary. 

“Easier said than done, believe me.” 

“We should team up tonight. Give ‘em hell.” 

You raise an eyebrow to that. Is he asking you out? Your heart does a little flip, before leaping in a swan dive to splat on the pavement. Don’t be stupid. 

“I don’t think so.” 

“Aww, come on, honey, give me a chance. I’m not a bad man.”  

He’s charming as a snake with an apple to sell, and you’re pretty sure he’s lying. 

“That’s exactly what bad men say.”

“What would a sweet thing like you know about that?”

You sigh, suddenly feeling about fifty years older than you are. “I know enough.” You don’t really mean to, but in a tick you can’t quite break you brush your hair behind your ear, touching the scar on your temple from the last time Donnie beat the hell out of you. The flesh is still raised, if not faded, the span of a few years softening the evidence, if only on the outside. 

You move your hand as soon as you realize what you’re doing, but not before this sharp-eyed man before you notices. His affable expression darkens, and you decide you would not like to meet him in a dark alley on a moonless night. “Give me a name, darlin’.” 

For a moment you are taken aback. You don’t know this man, and he doesn’t know you. The offer to play white knight for you is both titillating, and tiresome, if you’re being honest. You’ve heard it before from men who wanted to impress you. None of them panned out. No one wants to take on Donnie Barksdale. 

“I don’t need a man to protect me. I’ve got a shotgun for that. You want any dessert?” 

Like flipping a switch, he grins up at you, and though he is being friendly, there is still a hint of fang in it, like a wolf on the scent of something to hunt.

“I believe you, honey. I better skip the pie. Gotta watch my girlish figure.” He pats his slim waist, and you can’t stop yourself from looking. Inwardly, you sigh. With your lip between your teeth you add up his final bill on your notepad. “Feel free to add your phone number on there,” he teases, to which you just shake your head sadly. 

“There are plenty of pretty girls in this town who will be more than happy to entertain you, Mr. Tex,” you assure him.

Again, he shoots you that pout, and jesus god it should be illegal in twenty states, it gives you such a high. 

“But none of them are you, darlin’.” 

You roll your eyes, even if you kinda feel like you’re floating on a cloud right now. Goddammit. 

“You can nurse your broken heart over at TJ’s by the creek, it’s where everyone goes around here.” 

“Including you?” 

“No.” 

“Hmm, Miss Hard To Get. You’re really gonna make me comb through the whole crowd to find you at the fair tonight?” 

“Who said I’m going to the fair tonight?” 

“My gut.” 

You hand him his check with a smile that does not hide your annoyance. “You can pay at the register.” 

You hide in the back, finally taking your break, and deep in your idiotic heart you are sad to see him go. You hear the engine of the vintage sportscar rev from all the way in the kitchen, and you come out just in time to see the back end of him rolling down the road. 

Good riddance. You think it, but a part of you doesn’t really agree. Ah well. You’ve always had a weak spot for strays, but that one would have taken the cake. He was A Bad Idea™ and you were much better off without him. 

When you go to check the table you see he’s left you a cash tip that will cover your feed bills for a whole month, and your knees go a little weak. 

***

When your shift ends you get in your old car and head home, out of town, down the highway and through the woods, to the old farmhouse your grandparents left to you. Maybe you won’t be on the cover of Country Living any time soon, but the battered old clapboard house is home, and has been home to members of your family since the mid 1800s. 

Now, it is also home to the assortment of rescued animals you have picked up along the way. If your grandmother, god rest her soul, knew you kept a five-foot tegu lizard in an enclosure in her parlor she would probably expire all over again. But then again…if anyone had ever forgiven you for your stranger quirks, it was your Mawmaw. 

Your parents, not so much, which was ironic, considering. There was a reason the family farm went to you and not your mother. She never really got the hang of the whole adulting thing, falling in “love” with dirtbag after dirtbag after your parents divorce, ping ponging between bouts of addiction and religious righteousness. How you came to dread the words, “I am saved!” 

You find it funny, that the people who bang their bible the hardest are usually the ones who have the biggest sins to answer for. 

But when it came to bad decisions, maybe your apple didn’t fall far from the tree, considering your ex, but in your defense you grew up with Donnie Barksdale. His family’s land adjoined yours, and they had been in this holler just as long as your own ancestors had. They were well regarded around your tiny rural community, and half the folks in your town could hardly believe the rumors of the horrible things that man used to do to you. The other half thought you must have been asking for it–what can you count on in these parts, if not good ol’ fashioned Christian misogyny?

Once upon a time, Donnie Barksdale had been your best friend. You ran wild through the woods in your youth, building forts and catching critters. You fished in his pond and played in the hayloft of your grandparents’ barn. Then you got a little older, and your shirt filled out and the hormones kicked in, and maybe it was to no one’s surprise when you became lovers. Highschool sweethearts to a married couple, right after graduation. You could have gone to college on a scholarship, but Donnie wanted you home. 

It was easier to control you that way, you came to find out.

He didn’t beat on you at first. It took a while, for the disappointments of real life to set in. He never got drafted to play pro ball, and he was too proud to take up an honest trade. The pressures of living in a depressed rural area, with no good jobs and few good prospects, took their toll. Reagan-era policies made it easy for corporations to run all the little brick-and-mortar businesses into the ground, and trickle-down economics left your little community behind. Alcohol, meth, and Walmart filled in the voids.

With nothing better to do, Donnie started having affairs, and drinking too much, and when he finally got home he took his frustrations out on you.  

You try not to think about it now, but you do, every day. You’re not sure what hurt more: the actual physical beatings, or the betrayal by the boy who you’d loved madly since you were just eight years old. 

But there is something to be said, for the healing to be found with your hands in the dirt. You were such a broken thing, when you took over your grandmother’s overgrown garden years ago. Now, your little farmstead is a pollinator’s paradise filled with flowers and food. There’s something about sitting in the quiet with the butterflies flitting around that makes you feel like you’ve done something right in the world. You feed the birds, and you care for your animals, and you take life day by day.   

It’s a simple life, but a good one. You’ve run a long road, but you’re finally starting to feel like you’re going to be ok. 

And, you intend to keep it that way. That means not going for rides in fast cars with handsome strangers, no matter how lonely you are, or if it seems like he would be good to you, even if just for a night. 

You did good today, sticking to your guns. 

You need another man in your life like you need a hole in the head. “Boys are so rude,” you expound to your chickens, and your hens seem to cluck in agreement, their feathers so silky soft against your ankles as they wait for a treat. The last rooster who hurt your girls for his own gratification lost his head and ended up in your cookpot. If only it was so easy to dispose of belligerent human males.

You get your scoop, doling out some extra scratch grains to lure the chickens into their pen to lock them up early. 

You’ve got somewhere to be.  

As it turns out, Tex  was absolutely right about your intention to go to the rodeo, though you’re pretty sure he was blowing smoke about trying to find you. It’s a small town, but everyone will be there. You’ll be a needle in a haystack, and you take some comfort in that as you put on a black sunflower print sundress and your battered boots. 

You feed the cat, the dogs, your ancient conure parrot, and lock up the house. You have to go see a man about a horse–and you’re kind of dreading it.

***

You are not the only adult in the petting zoo area, which is some small relief. It takes a little while for Dale to even notice you are there, sneaking his skin and bones mini horse molasses treats from your purse in an attempt to help the poor thing put on some weight. It’s starving and its hooves need a trim and you could strangle Dale Manes with your two bare hands. 

You pass his place on the way home, and you regularly throw hay and treats over the fence in an attempt to feed his animals–something he clearly doesn’t seem to think it’s necessary to do much. 

He’s a cousin of Donnie’s, which has never kept him from ogling you. With some extra cash in your purse thanks to your handsome stranger, you’re hoping that maybe you can sweet talk Dale into relinquishing ownership.

Maybe it’s a lost cause, but maybe you can’t help but think about how many times people had looked at you in a bedraggled state, knew you needed help, and kept on walking with a “Bless her heart,” muttered under their breath. 

This little horse gobbles his treats down and bumps his head against you for scritches, leaning on you like a dog.

“Y/n, I see you spoiling my horse.”

You grit your teeth, before facing the music. “Hi Dale.”

“You know, I got you on my game cam trespassing on my property.” You can’t tell by his tone if he’s mad or not. It feels like you’re walking into a trap. Donnie used to play this verbal kind of game with you. It must be genetic.

“Trespassing’s a strong word,” you say, pouring extra sugar into your drawl.

“I don’t know what else to call it. Illegal feeding of animals?”

You give him a sheepish smile, when all you really want to do is kick him in the balls.

“Oh come on, Dale. You know this horse is skinny. It’s ok, I know how things go. I had some extra so I spread it around.”

It is not ok and you have literally lived on ramen cups some months so your animals could eat well and get the medicine they need. 

“Well ain’t you a peach?”

“Dale?”

He leers at you, sidling closer, and your skin crawls.

“Yeah, honey?”

“Sell me this horse.”

He gives you a look. “You’d ask a man to sell his livelihood?” 

You happen to know he gets by on government draw and dealing pain pills just fine.

“I like Ziggy. He’s my buddy. Let him come live with me.” The little horse in question is trying to nuzzle into your purse for more molasses treats. 

Dale takes a step closer, and it takes every iota of your self control not to step back. 

“You really are a piece of work.”

“Excuse me?”

“You conniving little bitch. I know it was you that called Animal Welfare on me last month.”

The sweetness drains from you like a flushing toilet. “Fat lot of good it did, I guess.” 

“You little bitch. You know how lucky you are? If you were my wife I would have killed you and buried you somewhere no one would find you.”

“Wow. I guess that’s why your wife ran off to Florida.”

“Cunt.” He raises his hand to you, right here in front of children and mothers and God and the whole damn town.

“What’s goin’ on here?” A strong arm loops around your waist, pulling you back out of striking range. “We horse tradin’, or are we pickin’ fights we can’t win?”

With wide eyes you look up to see the man from the diner, somehow even more handsome than before because he’s cleaned up and changed his shirt, the good looking bastard.

“Were you raisin’ your hand to this lady?” he asks. His tone is jovial, but there is an edge beneath the surface that does not escape your notice. You learned the hard way, how to dissect the subtle cadences of a man’s words.

“Believe me when I tell you she deserves it.”

“Huh.” Out of the blue Tex’s fist connects with Dale’s jaw, knocking him out cold. Ziggy startles at the body hitting the ground, darting on his little legs to the other side of the enclosure. All the families stare, shocked that someone would dare, though no one rushed in to see if Dale was still breathing. 

“Well, that’s our cue to go.”

“What?”

You are in shock, and it does not even occur to you to fight him when Tex takes your hand and pulls you through the crowd. You do not stop until you are on the other side of the fairgrounds, amidst the games and the dubiously safe rides. 

“Oh. My. God,” you wheeze, when finally you pause by the Whirl-A-Gig. “Do you know what you just did?” 

“You’re welcome,” he answers with that shit-eating grin, and you almost want to sock him yourself. 

“You should have let him hit me!”

“What?” Eyes wide, Tex is incredulous before you.

“God, I didn’t plan it that way but it would have been perfect! He woulda gone to jail, and the county would have to seize his animals.” At least the local Human Society would feed the poor things. 

Tex blinks, looking down at you like you’ve grown a second nose. “Did you miss the part where he was going to knock your head off?” 

“I’m used to it,” you muse absently, annoyed to the soles of your boots that you missed this opportunity. “If I were you I’d git while the gettin’s good. The whole Barksdale clan is going to come after you now.” 

His grin is like a baring of fangs. “Sounds like fun.” 

“Huh. You ain’t gonna think so when ten of ‘em roll up on you in your fancy sportscar.” 

“Meh. I can handle a pickup truck full of cousin fuckers. Wouldn’t be the first time.” 

A chortle escapes you before you can stop it. You cross your arms defensively, trying not to smile.

“The Barksdales are some tough customers, mister.” You had to be, to survive back in the day, but somewhere along the line it just got…out of hand. 

“Sounds like you know ‘em pretty well.” 

“I was married to one of them for the worst six years of my life. Believe me, you don’t want none of what they got.”  

Tex takes this opportunity to step into you, and now that the excitement is over you are reminded that you have six feet of pure cowboy standing in front of you. The pretty tooled embroidery on his shirt emphasizes how wide his chest is. You can smell the heady spiced scent of his cologne, and it hits you like a drug. Goddammit. 

“Sounds like you’re worried about me, darlin’.” His voice is like warm molasses. 

“Psshh. You better worry about yourself,” you grouse with extra venom, annoyed. “I don’t think you have the sense God gave a chicken.” 

He chuckles at that, and you try to back away. Try is the operative word, because he has your hands in his again. “Oh come on, darlin’, don’t leave me yet. Is this the thanks your knight in shining armor gets?” 

His hands engulf yours, long strong fingers wrapped around your palms, and you feel more than a little weak inside.  

“Knight in shining armor my fanny. Your little stunt is going to get us both hurt.” 

“My stunt? Were you or were you not trying to buy that horse when you knew damn well he wasn’t going to sell it to you?” 

You sigh. “Well…I had a little windfall burnin’ a hole in my pocket, and I had to try.” 

He pulls you a little closer–amazingly, you let him. “That’s not exactly what I had in mind when I left that for you.” 

“Oh yeah? What did you have in mind?” 

“Well…” Goddammit, if he does not take the opportunity to sidle even closer, so that your fronts are nearly pressed together, and you think you just might faint. “I was hoping you might treat yourself to somethin’ nice. Like a pretty new dress.” He looks you up and down, making a low sound in his throat of appreciation. “But I see you already had that handled. Mmm, you look good.” 

You sigh, a long suffering sound of exasperation. Is there something wrong with this man? Because he can’t seem to stop running his mouth. And maybe you’re losing your mind, but…you’re kind of starting to like it.

“I think you might have a screw loose, mister.” 

He grins wide for you, in that moment looking every bit the outlaw, with his shining dark eyes and hair brushing his collar. 

“That may be true…” He leans down towards you, and you think you just might die. “But I’m pretty sweet.” You’re afraid he’s going to try to kiss you, and you’re even more afraid you’re going to let him. But he just bumps your forehead with his before paying you that devil-may-care grin, and you swear your heart stops in your chest. 

This man is such a mistake, but you feel your defenses dissolving like sugar in hot tea. 

“Want to split a funnel cake?” 

As it turns out, it’s the nail in your coffin. 

“Yeah.” 

He grins like a man who just won the lottery, tucking you into his side under the shelter of his well-muscled arm like you’ve always belonged there, and goddammit if it doesn’t feel good to feel protected. Too good, maybe. It’s something you cannot allow yourself to get used to.

“I knew you’d come around, darlin’.”

It’s been a while since you made a big mistake. Like…less than an hour, at least, so you guess you were due up. As bad decisions go… You look this tall cowboy up and down, his denim-clad legs about a mile long swaggering beside you. 

“How did you find me?” it occurs to you to ask.

“I remembered what you said about liking animals, and figured the petting zoo would be a good place to start.”

You pause in your step, almost tripping as you look up at him. Maybe it shouldn’t be this surprising, that a man actually listened to something you said. But god. It twists and squeezes something inside you. It’s painful and wonderful and you really should run before this gets out of hand. But he is looking down at you with those smoldering dark eyes, and a part of you already knows that it’s too late. 

***

“So, my babygirl likes animals,” muses Tex beside you, taking a bite of funnel cake with a grin. “Let me guess. You’ve got a whole house full of strays.” 

You sigh, tearing off a piece, a good crispy bit with plenty of powdered sugar. “And a barn.” You have chickens and ducks and rabbits and goats that came to you post-Easter after people realized the fuzzy little things turned into full grown animals that needed housing and room. You have a conure that outlived its previous owner, and a bulldog whose tongue doesn’t quite fit in her mouth, and the world’s only sweet chihuahua who loves to snuggle and needs medication that seems to get more and more expensive every time you have to buy it. The reptiles came to you from a family whose child changed their mind, and the cat just kinda showed up at your door one day, the way they do…

Most men who hear the extent of your menagerie swiftly run in the other direction. They think you’re a hoarder, or if they stick around they want to be the sole focus of all your attention–and it’s just not going to happen. They leave after a month or so, or you run them off. 

You have no reason to think this won’t end the same way. 

“That’s alright, darlin’. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with havin’ a soft heart for critters.”

They all say that at first. 

Ah well. It’s not like you’re looking to get married again, anyhow. You just…get a little lonely, sometimes, when it’s just you and the dogs and darkness outside. 

“Hmm. That’s not the review I usually get. So what about you? You know I have to ask if you’re really from Texas.”

He grins. “Guilty. But I live in L.A. now.” 

“Oh yeah? Are you an actor?”

“I was a stuntman for a little while.”

“Anything I’ve seen?” 

He laughs, an open guffaw of mirth that makes his eyes shine and your heart fill to bursting. “Well, you look like a diehard fan of Death Charger II.”

“Oh yeah, I used to watch that with my Grandma,” you tease. 

He snorts and pulls off another piece of pastry. “It was fun for a while, but I could tell I was just going to end up with a broken body and an empty bank account.”

“So…what do you do now?” 

He looks up at you through those long dark lashes, and you swear to god your heart does a pirouette in your chest. 

“I can’t really talk about it,” he tells you, which you guess is actually a more honest answer than feeding you some bullshit lie. “Pays well, though.” 

“Okay…that’s not creepy at all.” 

 He pays you that open grin and offers you the last little crunchy morsel from his fingertips. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head, darlin’. You’re in good hands.” 

After a long pause you take the bite, your lips just barely brushing the tips of his fingers. But it ignites a fire in his eyes that has you squirming in your seat, your thighs unbearably moist. Thank god you’re wearing a black dress. 

“Let’s walk around,” he proposes, and you agree, even if you’re afraid your legs might not work anymore. 

***

Hand in hand, you wander the fairgrounds, people watching, talking, and playing a few games. Tex is fun, and he is sweet, never once letting go of your hand, except during the clown toss which he swears is rigged (and you agree). He makes a crack about his balls being too big to fit in its mouth, and you break down in a giggling fit as the two of you walk away. It feels a little bit like magic, wandering around amidst the bright lights and the warm night and for the first time in a long time, you realize you’re not afraid of running into one of Donnie’s clansmen with an axe to grind or family honor to hold up or some other testosterone-driven bullshit that terrorizes your waking hours and your nightmares. 

“Haunted house?” 

“No way.”

“Swings?” 

“Don’t trust them.”

“Roller coaster?” 

“I like my spine aligned right where it is, thank you.” 

“How ‘bout the ferris wheel?” Tex proposes with a lift of brows, and even though you know exactly what he’s up to, you finally agree. Tucked into the tiny bucket together in a space that is not meant for adults but god is it lovely to sit with your side molded to his, Tex sneaks his arm around you with a come-hither curl of lips. 

“Don’t even think about it,” you warn him with a venom you absolutely do not feel at this point. You make a show of leaning away, even though there’s absolutely nowhere for you to go in the little compartment.  

“Oh, I’m thinkin’ about it,” he assures you with a devilish glint in his eye, pulling you closer, and off you go in a big vertical circle. It is fun, to see all the lights and the people below, and the rodeo round pen on the other side of the grounds. 

Then the ride stops with a grinding halt that doesn’t feel quite right. The two of you are at the very apex of the wheel, on top of the world. You look around, a little nervous. Oh god, please don’t let you get stuck here. 

“It’s alright, darlin’” he soothes you, with a wolfish grin that is not comforting at all. 

You can see the roping event with a bird’s eye view. You flinch as a cowboy throws a loop around a steer’s neck, jerking it around. At least the second cowboy misses the ankles. You stick your tongue out at them, knowing no one can see. 

“Aww, that little grass puppy’s fine,” Tex tries to assure you. “They’re pretty tough.”  

Once upon a time your family made part of their living running cattle. You know they’re tough, but that doesn’t mean it’s fair to treat them that way just for fun. “There are ways to train them without the rope, you know. They’re very food motivated.” 

“But what’s a cowboy without his rope, honey?”

“A farmer.” 

He chuckles at that. “It just lacks a certain prestige, don’t it?”

“Fuck you very much. My family’s been farming since before this place was even a state.”

He chuckles at your fiery response, clearly enjoying getting your goat. “Erm–no offense.” 

“Pssh. It’s not about prestige. It’s men and their testosterone poisoning, always havin’ to show off at everyone else’s expense.” You’re sure he won’t like it, but you say it anyway. You wait for him to get surly, like all men do when you say what you’re really thinking, and it occurs to you that maybe you should have waited until you’re not trapped in a tin can of an amusement ride with him before insulting him. 

“Hmm. Well…there might be somethin’ to that.” 

He could have knocked you over with a feather…if you weren’t already mashed into an enclosed seat with him. 

“Yeah, there might be,” you say more softly, quickly looking away when he tries to meet your eyes. 

“Hey now.” He strokes your arm with his fingertips lightly, drawing little circles and driving you crazy. “We’re silly creatures, ain’t we? I get it.” 

The fact that this man, who is 6 feet plus of pure masculine energy, would say such a thing to you–well frankly it blows you the fuck away. 

“Showin’ off is fine,” you sigh, still unable to meet his eyes. “It’s just…why does someone always have to get hurt for the sake of it? Usually…someone innocent.”

“You’re right,” he agrees gently. “It shouldn’t be that way.”

Now you do get up the courage to look at him, though it feels like you’re drowning when you do. You really thought you had this man’s number. He dresses like a cowboy and drives a vintage muscle car, walks with James Dean swagger and he even punched a man out for you not but over an hour ago. But here he is, talking to you…like women matter. Like you matter. 

“We’ve been up here a really long time,” you muse, blinking the tears out of your eyes while you peer over the side. 

“Ah well. I’m sure they’ll get us down eventually.” He does not seem worried at all. “I like the view.” He’s looking at you while he says it, curling a little lock of hair from the nape of your neck around his finger, and an embarrassing shudder gallops down your spine. “Hmm, someone’s sensitive,” he says with a little smile. 

You shoot him a glare out the corner of your eye. You don’t think you’ve convinced him by half. 

“It’s just cold up here.”

It is the tail end of summer, and still 80 degrees out with the sun down.  

“Sure it is, sweetheart.” 

You sigh, and you don’t know how it’s possible, considering your position, but somehow he seems to sidle closer. 

“Tex?” 

“Yeah, beautiful?” 

You don’t really know what you intended to say–you look at his mouth, those full, well-drawn lips, and you forget how to breathe for a few crucial seconds. You are lightheaded, the world spinning as he closes the distance, and gently presses his mouth to yours. 

Someone moans, and only belatedly do you realize it’s you. 

You feel him smile against your mouth, before going in for the kill, his long fingers sliding up into your hair to hold you to him. If you’d felt trapped you would have fought him, no matter how stupid and no matter how high up you were sitting in this rattletrap of a ride held together with rusty bolts and bubblegum. But you feel…free, like for a few blessed moments, you’ve found a part of yourself you left somewhere. A part of yourself you needed, even though you didn’t realize it at the time of losing it. 

You let this man devour you, his tongue sliding against yours in a dance you feel all the way in your clit. Pressing your thighs together does not help at all, and he smiles again like he knows exactly what your problem is. When his paw of a hand settles just above your knee, squeezing the soft flesh of your thigh, his thumb finding its way just past the hem of your dress, you smack your hand over his. “Hold up, cowboy,” you pant, knowing you sound ridiculous but unable to put any real steel in your tone. 

His eyes glitter like the night sky as he pulls back to look at you, breathing heavy through his nose. “You sweet little thing. I could just eat you up.” He nibbles your lower lip again, and you think you might expire. He doesn’t force the issue, his hand staying right where you’re holding it. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears, a steady timpani roll that does not help with your lightheadedness. The carriage sways slightly in the summer breeze, and you’re not sure that you’re not floating in mid air with nothing to catch you. Your grip on his hand tightens, desperately seeking something to ground you. You’re not sure if this is a panic attack, or vertigo, or unadulterated lust. 

“Don’t get too full of yourself…but I think I might faint.” 

The hunger in his expression turns into concern. “You alright, darlin’?”

“Just…hold on to me, ok?”

“Alright, alright. You gotta breathe for me though. Deep breath.” You do as you’re told. “Then out.” You do this, and you close your eyes, and you start to feel better just as the wheel finally starts to turn again.

As excruciatingly fun as it was to be squashed together with this delicious specimen of a man, you are so grateful when it’s time to get out and put your feet on terra firma once more. Tex steadies you with an arm around your waist, and you just happen to be looking up at the right time to catch the ferris wheel operator’s conspiratorial wink at your ad hoc date. 

“Sonofabitch. Did you bribe him to stick us up there?” 

Tex chuckles, flinching as you poke him in the ribs. “Hey, you ain’t even met my Mamma yet!”

“Did you?” you demand, unrelenting in your attack. He wiggles like he is ticklish, and you feel like you have stumbled upon crucial intelligence of the enemy. 

“I might have slipped him somethin’...”    

“You imp! I thought we were stuck!” 

He is laughing as you tickle him and poke him, until maybe your fingernail goes a little too far in between his ribs and he grabs you up with a growl that you feel in your loins, putting a stop to your antics with your arms pressed to your sides and your body pressed to his. “You ok? I didn’t know you were scared of heights.” 

You’re not really. Scared of feeling things, is another matter. 

“I’m ok.” 

“Good.” He dips his head to kiss you again, and you let him for about 2.5 seconds before turning your head. 

“Tex…” 

“Yeah, honey?”

“I think…I think I better go home.” 

His expression falls like you kicked his puppy. “Oh. Did I…do somethin’? I’m sorry, darlin’.” 

He did somethin’. He’s done everything right, and suddenly you are scared shitless of where this could lead. 

“No, I’ve had fun,” you tell him honestly. “But I have to work tomorrow, and I’m tired. I should go home.” 

“Oh.” He sticks out that pouting lip, and it really should be illegal for a grown man to look so adorable. “Can I…come see you for lunch then?” 

“I guess…I can’t stop you.” 

“Would you want to though?” 

Therein lay the million dollar question. 

“Maybe not?” 

He smiles, and it feels like a special gift, just for you. “Alright. Tomorrow then. Let me walk you to your car at least.”

Considering what you got up to earlier that evening, it wasn’t a bad idea. “Ok.” 

You exchange one last lingering kiss before he tucks you down into your driver's seat and makes ao show of buckling you in. You know it's a ploy to feel you up a little but it makes you giggle anyway. “Tex…I can buckle my own damn seat belt.” 

“I know, darlin’.” He leans on the roof of your car, looking down at you like you’re something precious, preventing you from closing your door. You need to go because if you stay in his company any longer you are going to melt into a pile of goo. 

“Tex…” 

He sighs. “Alright, fine. Tomorrow. You better be ready to take your break with me.” He makes sure your legs are out of the way before shutting your door and tapping on the roof. Why do men do that, like a car is a horse? Giddyup. You think it would be horrifyingly hilarious, if your late-model car decided to play it’s occasional game of let’s not start until you try five times. But no, the old soldier dutifully responds to the turn of your key, and carries you away through the grass parking lot, onto the highway, and away from the man you’re afraid you would like to curl up in bed with and not leave for a month. 

That man is pure trouble…and you are pretty sure you want more of him. 

[achromatophoric]

Wenclair Week - Day 6: Dystopic

A recently awoken Enid stumbles across haggard friends in a world dramatically changed.

Enid: What’s going on? What happened? Why is everything like this?!

Bianca: Enid, it’s been years. You’ve been missing for YEARS! What happened to you?

Enid: Years? But I just— Willa and I had a fight, so I went to go nap it off in the forest, and then—

Enid: *frantic* Where’s Willa?!

Divina: Enid— Wednesday, she— *deep breath*

Divina: After you went missing, we all spent months trying to find you, and Wednesday, she… she never gave up. At least, not until…

Enid: Until? Until what? What happened?!

Yoko: Bitch went crazy! From Stabbah Hauntana to Chiquita Bananas, full stop!

Enid: Ohmygod. *pales* Did she— Wednesday did this?

The girls pause to gaze at their surroundings, a dystopian landscape that is lazily horrifically indescribable.

Bianca: *grim* She did. Some kind of ancient black magic. A ritual that altered a fundamental piece of reality, tied somehow to the last thing she said to us before she totally lost it.

Enid: What— *gulps* What did she say?

Bianca: *quotes* If we can’t have a resolution, then no one shall.

Enid: 🫢

Enid: 😐

Enid: 🤔

Enid: Um. So like—What did the ritual do?

Bianca: No more endings.

Enid:

Enid: Huh?

Divina: Not a single show has ended since then!

Bianca: They all just taper off into limbo. Stranger Things, Yellow Jackets, Delicious in Dungeon— ALL of them.

Yoko: Not just shows! Movies, comics, podcasts, books— It’s like George R.R. Martin took them ALL over.

Enid: *gasps* No! What about Wicked: For Good?!

Divina: *shakes head* Screen goes black like fifteen minutes in.

Enid: ACOTAR?!

Bianca: Blank pages after a couple of chapters. Every single printing. Sarah J. Maas can’t even remember how her last book ended

Enid: 😨

Enid: And… and that caused everything to become like this?

Bianca: Oh fuck no, not that part. It gets much worse.

Enid: Then what—

Yoko: *blurts out* ORGASMS!

Enid: Wh—

Yoko: *frantic* They’re fucking GONE, Enid! All of them! No one has them anymore! Do you understand?!

Divina: *begins crying* Years, Enid. YEARS! The whole fucking world.

Enid: 😱

Bianca: *desperately* But maybe we can fix that now! With you back, maybe we can finally get through to Addams and—

The sky suddenly darkens as a sinister presence peels the light from the land, strip by trembling strip. It races toward the girls like some ill tide, eating the distance between them with a savage gluttony.

Bianca: Enid! It’s her! This is our chance!

Divina: We’ve got your back! You can do this!

Yoko: For the fucking orgasms!!

Something rises from the core of that rapidly encroaching black, a figure with an achingly familiar, if distorted, voice.

Once-Wednesday: NO MORE RESOLUTIONS.

With the weight of the world upon her shoulders, Enid straightens and faces her twisted beloved. She takes a deep breath, steels her resolve, and shouts with all her heart.

Enid: WEDNESDAY! IT’S M—

[riyangiis]

EXPECT THE UNEXPECTED !

your best friend has a big game, you nearly die, something you've been waiting for centuries happens in one of the most unexpected moments.. pretty crazy week, right?

pairing , non-idol!yujin x gn!reader

genre , fluff, you deserve it 😓 also crack 😋

word count , 3.6k

warnings , lowercase intended, not proofread, smau included, highschool!au, near death experience, car accident (that's def not an accident), bullying, swearing, ocs, .. reader is implied to be filo? (BANANA KETCHUP ILY), both of them are down bad, yujin plays basketball cs I don't know how to write football games ✌✌, kissing.. well on the cheek, that's all I think..

[ note: this fic is based on another fic, it is recommended to read that one first! ]

[ see more? ] ─ [ og post ]

you hear endless notifications coming from your phone inside your pocket, that's probably yujin. normally you would check it but the red light is so close to disappearing. why is it even here? there were no cars anyways.

3..

2...

1!

you start making your way to the other side of the road as you stare at the white horizontal lines you're walking on.

you start to lose focus until.. did your headphones just die on you? great.

you start to walk slowly as you remove your headphones and keep them in your bag. you hear multiple people honking at one car that is going faster than what the speed limit is supposed to be.

wait a minute.

is that car going..

towards..

you?

you turn your head to see the speeding car that those people got mad at.

"w-WHAT THE FFUUU-"

you drop your headphones that literally cost a whopping 500 plus a shipping fee out of shock and run like you're sonic the hedgehog and you're running away from sirenhead. i'm not exaggerating.

you hear your headphones get crushed by the car as you stop near a street lamp. did you just survive a car accident? but clearly your headphones didn't and took the fall for you. well shit.

you try to take a look at the driver who literally almost killed you.. he looks familiar doesn't he? you just can't seem to remember who it is. the driver owns a car that looks really expensive though..

wait. is your mind playing tricks on you or is that..

EUNKYUNG'S DAD?? THE ONE WHO MADE YOUR BEST FRIEND'S BULLY???

"shit, gotta tell him about this.." you whisper to yourself and grab your phone out of your pocket. it seems like yujin's worried about you not answering right away.. too clingy for a best friend, but you like it though.

"w.. WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY SURVIVED?!"

the loud voice can be heard around the entire first floor. although, nobody really cares. eunkyung always throws tantrums that what seems like a loud scream, loud enough for others to think that she's getting murdered, is just nothing to the people living with her.

her father sighs and tries to reason with his bratty daughter. "listen I was speeding, even I wouldn't have survived that. that [name] is a fast thinker and just ran away like they're the usain bolt."

"ugh.. they always mess up my plans.. CURSE YOU HAN YUJIN AND [NAME]!!!" eunkyung exits the room to go in her own. her father watches as she goes up the stairs looking infuriated. what did he do to raise the definition of brat? the devil herself? he even got dragged in her shenanigans as well..

"there's no way that happened.."

kyungsoo, jiwon's girlfriend, also known as the better kyung, joined the drama session inside yujin's room. she took another piece of popcorn and tossed it inside her mouth. her other hand was playing with jiwon's hair whose head was laying on kyungsoo's lap. "ew.. lovebirds.." yujin muttered.

"yeah also have you guys heard about jiyeon cheating on hiro with-" the entire group of friends was waiting for kyungsoo to finish her sentence but was met with silence. kyungsoo tried to check the box to get more popcorn, she looked inside the box and saw nothing but crumbs.

"um.. there's no popcorn." yujin raised his eyebrow in confusion. "..can't you at least finish your sentence? we're like waiting for a new episode because the last one left us on a big cliffhanger.." kyungsoo gets off yujin's bed and gets the popcorn box with her.

"yeah.. I'm getting more popcorn, you'll have to guess who the mysterious person is!"

"what the? kyungsoo you can't just-" you get cut off as kyungsoo shut the door on you.. sigh, you look at the bed if there's any other food except for popcorn. guess you'll have to follow her and get more snacks. you get off the bed and walk to the door, "[name], where are you going?"

well.. who else would have a deep voice except for your best friend, yujin? you turn to face him and see a worried look.. "uh.. to the convenience store? to buy some snacks?" he sighs, "[name].. you just survived a car accident. and you're going out again? on your own?" he gets up and grabs your hand to drag you back to his bed.

"what the? yujin-" your sentence gets cut off, again.. when yujin yanks you a little aggresively. you held his waist for support, the both of you end up to be in a.. pretty questionable position for friends? yujin ended up being under you, your faces a little too close to each other.

you didn't move a single inch and just stayed in your position, speechless. you can feel your cheeks burning. the room was filled with nothing but silence, and the air conditioner. he looks into your eyes deeply, then your lips for a little bit.. did he just do the triangle method? lord, this boy makes you go crazy..

yujin hand reaches for your face, is he actually going to.. no way.. it's finally happening, well.. maybe you're just delusional. he just removed the stray hair that's blocking your face, but surely that means something? he looks at you and smiles softly. how could you not fall for him?

you decided to break the silence and say something. "uh.. I should um.. go.." you're still blushing after everything that happened, did he do that on purpose? does he know?

"woah.. that was pretty good for a loser like you, yujin."

"what the heck?" yujin turns to see jiwon awake. "I thought you were asleep?" jiwon chuckles at yujin's reaction when he found out that she was awake and saw the entire thing.

"gosh.. you do all that yet you can't confess to them yet. really man? and for the your question I was never asleep, I just got too comfortable in your bed.." yujin can't seem to say something against her knowing that she's right.. "I'll help you."

your day is so not going great.. first you nearly died in a car accident, and yujin.. is just yujin.. that boy.. you recently just got out of yujin's house and currently going to the nearest convenience store to get more snacks. the sun's almost down, meaning that you'll go back home after a few hours. fortunately, you don't have to go to the other side of the road to get to the convenience store.

you get closer to the store, but you start to hear footsteps behind you. it's probably nothing.. but why is it speeding up? you turn around to see who's the mysterious person behind you.. "WHAT THE FU-"

the person jumps at you for a hug. the both of you fall due to the fact that the hug was unexpected, you fall hard on your butt while the person lets go of you. "ouch... who the heck are you..?" you look up to see.. kyungsoo? what's she doing out here?

"..kyungsoo? why are you here?" she looked at you worriedly, that hug was one of the deadliest ones known to man, surviving death counter: 2.. kyungsoo lends you a hand and helps you get up, "I'm so sorry I didn't think it would end up badly.." she apologizes with a very worried look all over her face and holds both of your hands.

you groan at the pain in your butt, the sidewalk isn't the smoothest or flattest one that you've ever seen. it's very far from that actually.. "ow.. still doesn't answer my question though, why are you here?" you ask again incase she forgets.

"uh.. I noticed that we ran out of cheese powder for the popcorn and sour cream powder for the fries, so I went here to get more! also I noticed that the snacks in my house are running out so I decided to buy them too.."

"I see.. let's go now. the next thing you know the store will close.." kyungsoo holds your hand and walks with you to the convenience store.

.. great. you jinxed it. the both of you stare at the store and watch as the owner closes it. no snacks.. no flavor.. what will you do?

"I.. think I can handle popcorn with no flavor..? don't know about fries though.." kyungsoo breaks the silence, she's still staring and the broken sign with blinking letters. ".. just add salt and mix ketchup and mayo for the sauce?" you answer her, she finally turns to look at you in curiosity.

"you can do that? well, that is a.. rather interesting combination.. but I'll try!"

"WAIT!! it's recommended to use banana ketchup.. yujin already has it, I gave one bottle to him because he was curious.."

"hurry up then!!" kyungsoo starts running away from you, suddenly this turns into a race to see who gets to yujin's house the fastest.

for a pretty short time. the both of you are exhausted and sweating.. this sidewalk is also not the best place to run, what's wrong with this sidewalk? are there no good traits about it?

"wait.. [name].. I.. forgot to ask you something.." kyungsoo pauses a lot to catch her breath and also due to the fact that she's.. really exhausted... "huh? .. what is it?" you on the other half.. it's not that bad compared to kyungsoo. she's not the athletic person, she's very far from that.. you're even convinced that she's the opposite of athletic!

"[name] you.. you.. like yujin.. don't you?"

the sudden question caughts you off guard, you feel your heart beating faster. was it that obvious? or did jiwon give up on keeping her mouth shut and told her about it.. either way, avoiding the question makes it even more obvious, so you just admit it. "uh.. yeah.. was it really that obvious?"

"oh.. not really. jiwon just told me." knew it, that girl can't keep herself from telling her girlfriend everything. one of the reasons why almost no one share their secrets to her. "as expected.. she can't control herself when it comes to secrets.."

kyungsoo turns to look at you and smirks, "you and yujin huh.. I got a feeling that he likes you too.." you look away from her to hide your blushing face and your smile. "hey don't get my hopes up.." she giggles at your embarrassment. "okay okay.. but I'm not wrong though?"

"whatever...."

today's the game.. you kept your promise to yujin when you said that you'll make a whole banner to support him, and also be annoyingly loud. unfortunately, your seatmates are from the other school..

currently the game is going well for yujin's team, you decided to take that opportunity to rub it in your seatmates' faces. behind you are jiwon and kyungsoo, you can hear them giggling by you having a fight with strangers from the other school.

you felt the need to fix yourself and go to the bathroom. you stood up and gave the banner to jiwon and kyungsoo, you walked to the bathroom expecting that no one would be there due to the fact that the entire hallway is empty and not a single noise is heard except the game.

you open the door of the bathroom and was met with the most awful person to ever live in this century, eunkyung. what does she want.. she smirks at your annoyed face, "it seems that you got lucky and survived.." you scoff, you get your phone out to ignore her and attempt to make her irritated.

"so you admit that you did it? try to look menacing all you want but you're just revealing your crimes." nice, now she's the one that's annoyed. ".. w-well, that would've been obvious. don't be stupid.." she stutters at her words, almost speechless about her unintended mistake. that's good.. you need to be more annoying and make her expose herself. she's definitely not the brightest person you've seen in the school.

"get your ass out of my way, I didn't go here to see your disgusting face." eunkyung gets offended and gasps dramatically, "should've made father go faster.. you know what, I should've been there with him so that you'd see this disgusting face during the last moments of your life!" she screams at you without thinking about the consequences, you smirk at the girl's stupidity.

you decided to stop having your fun before eunkyung thinks of another way of killing you. "good luck with that.. also, thank you." she stares at you with the word confused all over her face. you make your way towards the door outside. "..for what?" she asked you genuinely, but you never answer.

".. for everything you said." you whispered to yourself. you exit the bathroom and take your phone out, you smiled to yourself and paused the audio recorder.

you finally returned to your chair, you're lucky that you used that audio recorder after learning from your past attempts of trying to screw up eunkyung's evil plans. "[name]! why did you take so long? did you have gallons of pee or something.." jiwon asks you and gives you your huge banner back. "oh it's.. something happened again, I'll tell you later." you look around the place and catch eunkyung at your left staring at you. you sit on your chair and watch the game, well.. specifically yujin.

"your boyfriend is winning by the way.." kyungsoo whispers in your ear to tease you. "hey, he's not my boyfriend.." although you wish he was.. jiwon giggles and follows her girlfriend with teasing you. "yet!" you roll your eyes at them and continue to watch the game.

yujin gets called for a break and returns to his team. you finally get a close up of what he looks like right now, you can clearly see that he's very.. sweaty. to be honest he looks really handsome like that, but you've seen him like this a few times before and you were trying to keep yourself from giggling like a loser who's madly in love with their crush. okay you take that back you are a loser who's madly in love.. you're real lucky that jiwon and kyungsoo are behind you because you're blushing real bad..

he wipes his face and neck with a towel and looks at you. you notice and look away swiftly in shyness, you can feel your heartbeat speeding up and your face turning pink. you attempt to sneak a glance at him but find that yujin is still staring at you, he starts smiling and waves at you. you smile back awkwardly and give him a thumbs up with both of your hands, he chuckles and finally sits down. lord, this boy really makes you crazy.

you see a girl his age hand him a towel for him to wipe his sweat, he smiles at her the.. same way he did at you. what the heck? maybe you were getting your hopes up too much.. you unconsciously furrow your eyebrows and frown slightly as you watch their interaction. wait, why are you even jealous? it's not like it's your business or that you have the right to.. nevermind.

you stop staring at them to prevent yourself from getting even more jealous. you didn't notice yujin staring at you looking all angry, 'maybe I should do this more.. they look cute like that' he thought to himself. you also didn't notice jiwon and kyungsoo giggling at the both of you.

"you were right.. they look so cute together!" kyungsoo whispers to jiwon, "well.. we were like that before, right?"

"yeah.. I'm glad we could experience it again." kyungsoo lays her head on her girlfriend's shoulder.

yujin gets called again to go back to the court. ricky, that famous senior known for being "young and rich, tall and handsome", comes up to yujin and pats his back, yujin runs to the court and starts playing. whatever they're doing, not like you know much about basketball anyways.

some time passes as the game continues normally, with your school still in the lead and the other school catching up. you stopped screaming and cheering and also have the banner folded, you're spent.. so are your seatmates from the other school, all of you are just watching peacefully. you can hear a couple of people screaming as the game almost draws to an end..

the ball is currently at one of the guys from the other school, 'park, 8' on the back of his jersey. you have to admit, he's kinda cute.. got a few girls screaming for him.. he passes the ball to one of his teammates but one of yujin's teammates, gyuvin, ends up getting the ball. he runs and then passes the ball to yujin quickly.

the time almost runs out as yujin runs to the hoop, the screaming gets even louder.. you watch yujin closely and see how determined he is to score.. 'come on yujin... you can do it.....' you thought to yourself, you held the banner laying on your lap tightly.

yujin decides to shoot the ball at a pretty risky place, the crowd goes silent and watches if the ball gets in the hoop. the players can't do anything but watch it.

'so close...'

'you're running out of time, yujin....'

3..

2..

1..

"3 POINTS, HAN YUJIN SCORES 3 POINTS!!"

the people from your school shout and cheer loudly as the others can't do anything but sigh in defeat.. you stood up from your seat and quickly ran to yujin, both jiwon and kyungsoo watch, still in their seats, as you ran to your best friend. you saw him and jumped into his arms immediately without warning him.

"hey.. that's what I did to them!" kyungsoo told jiwon, she laughed as yujin fell from your sudden attack. "ouch.. what was that for?!" yujin says as he gets up and sits on the floor, you get off of him and help him get up. "you.. you won!! oh my gosh you actually, you actually did it!!" you hug him again, your arms around his waist and your head on top of his shoulder. he reciprocates the hug and smiles widely.

"oh my gosh I actually.. I love you so much.." he says unconsciously while hugging you tighter but you let go of him in shock, both of your hands cover your mouth that's wide open after what he said. yujin realizes and does the same thing.

"I-I'm sorry that was so sudden uh.. you.. don't have to say anything.." both of your faces turn extremely red, yujin slowly backs up from you in embarrassment and fear that you won't like him back. he turns his head away from you while you still stare at him, you run up to him and hug him again.

"I.. I love you too!! you don't know how long I've been waiting for this!!" you smile widely while yujin is still frozen due to your words. he turns his head to look at you all joyful and wraps his arms around your waist. he smiles back at you and stares at you lovingly, you let go of his torso and use both of your hands to hold his cheeks. you can feel them burning and getting hotter as you hold them softly.

you smile and laugh at each other for not knowing what to do, you ended up kissing the both of his cheeks, a lot. yujin giggles and then lays his head on your shoulder after.

"hey yujin!" a familiar voice interrupts the both of you, he turns around to see ricky. "not bad, kid.. seems like you got yourself a partner too." ricky teases his younger teammate and giggles at how yujin's face turns pink and how you still haven't let go of him. "let's celebrate later, ricky's treat!" gyuvin, beside ricky, pops up in the conversation. ricky looks at his friend confused. "hey I never said anything!"

"well too bad, it's on you now!" gyuvin says. the both of them continue bickering until ricky decides to leave the both of you together. and.. you hear another voice behind you again.

"so.. finally confessed to each other?" the both of you turn around to see jiwon and kyungsoo behind you. "you.. you were here all along? at this point you could be a spy.." yujin says to jiwon surprised about how this happened for the second time.. jiwon chuckles, "no. we just got down, kyungsoo was the one who told me about you two." kyungsoo smiles and realizes something. "hey! about what happened inside the bathroom.. I thought you were going to tell us?"

"I don't think I should tell you here.. maybe when we get out?" kyungsoo sighs about how she's going to stay curious.. you feel something on your hands, you look at it and see a new pair of headphones. the headphones that you sacrificed. you then look at yujin, the one who gave them to you.

"what? I promised that I'd give you new ones?" you smiled and kept the box of headphones inside your bag, you held yujin's hand and follow jiwon and kyungsoo as they go outside the court. "so.. what was kyungsoo talking about earlier?" yujin asks you, you get closer to him and whisper to his ear, "eunkyung admitted that she tried to kill me.. I recorded it inside my phone.."

yujin widened his eyes in shock. ".. what do I do with it though?" you ask him quietly. "let's not do something yet.. we need things to go smoothly. this is eunkyung we're talking about.." you nod in understanding.

and now.. your week comes to an end. should take the award for 'the most unexpected and maybe the luckiest week in your life'.. expect the unexpected I guess..?

[ note: THEY'RE HAPPY NOW!! :33 AND KYUNGSOO IS BACK AS WELL!!!! honestly I was rushing to write this and it was harder cs I was planning to make yujin a football player 😓😓 YOU GUYS HAPPY NOW??? 😒😒😒 ]

taglist: @zahraism , @taesansidechick / @jelllijeans , @goldoie / @n-americano

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

I bet Miguel can cook REALLY well.

Like CRAZY WELL.

Being a dad he did have to come up with something to eat for dinner every night

And with Gabriella being a bit picky, sometimes he had to get creative

And some of his favorite memories are the conversations he and Gabbie had while dinner was on the stove

But even now, he loves it. Miguel finds he act of cooking so relaxing. He likes the peace and the order of it

And even if he comes in really really late from HQ - he'll still try and cook something

Fighting sleep while cooking a quesadilla on the stove

He's a Sazon loyalist SORRY ADOBO STANS

There's always tortillas, sour cream and salsa verde in his fridge - freshly made

(if you got those you can figure something out)

And he grows his own cilantro and basil on the window sill

And he'll never use powdered garlic, only fresh

Yes he can eat garlic - yes people on campus ask him that a lot

(he's hot ACTUALLY a vampire)

His seafood is TO DIE FOR

Miguel can make amazing lobster tail, or crab legs (with Old Bay and butter of course)

And his Ceviche is SO GOOD and SO FRESH

Most likely makes everything spicy. It's not even that he 'loves' spicy food - He just makes it spicy AF and acts like he doesn't notice

MEANWHILE you're next to him and it hurts to breathe

He and Hobie are bean stans.

Miguel loves them in Chilli con Carne, with rice, refried, you name it

and Hobie goes through those British blue cans of Heinz baked beans like it's nobodies business

They both think beans are underrated

Makes AMAZING MOLE and even better Tamales

But you have to BEG him for weeks on end to get him to make Tamales cause he can't be bothered - and he will make you help

He likes Avocado, like in general. On toast, with eggs, guacamole use always a staple

He'll often just eat chips and guacamole the whole day in his office and he'll get pissed if the food court is out of it.

Well look at a corn shell ground beef taco and be like 'You think that's a taco? Is that what you honestly believe?'

Loves cooking with other people - in fact Miguel actually just likes working with people in general. That's why Lyla has a personality.

He's good at guiding others during cooking and teaching them things and not bossing them around

OBSESSED LIKE CONCERNINGLY SO

With mango and Tajin

He'll put Tajin seasoning on ANYTHING - the first time Jess saw him put it on watermelon she was like 'what for????'

But he loves fruit in general, watermelon, lychee, guava. A lot of them are grown fresh in the Society gardens

Strawberries are a favorite of his. Gabriella loved strawberries on pancakes

He pronounces lychee - Leechee (not Lie-chee)

He's the fucking PRO at protein shakes and milkshakes

The man needs workout fuel and whey powder and kale and potassium and-

He's in the kitchen 5am getting ready for the gym

Making a shit ton of peanut butter strawberry banana and oats protein smoothie with coconut milk and honey to sweeten

Because he does have a sweet tooth.

Jolly Ranchers are an oral fixation

You can hear him sucking on one, the quiet clacking of it.

Or see him press it into his cheek, lost in thought

But baking and sweets are his secret love

He just doesn't have anyone to test it on anymore - so he doesn't

His flan is the best, and it was one of Gabbie's show faves

He eats parfaits pretty often, and makes them a lot for Jess (and she teases it for it)

Miguel LOVES tres leches cake, as sweet as possible. And fancy stuff like creme brulee

Don't tell anyone but he actually really likes cheesecake he acts like it's a secret

With him cooking get ready for the most sugariest breakfast ever. It's a dad thing.

Whipped cream, fruits, syrup, chocolate chips, you name it.

Sure Miguel shouldn't have been giving Gabriella THAT much sugar THAT early - but with you it's fine so enjoy the stomach ache in two hours

Another dad thing:

COOK OUT FOOD.

Him and Peter get INTENSE.

Miguel swears by charcoal grills, Peter likes propane and gas

Miguel is the tio with the best Hot dogs and relish that HITS

Peter is the burger dad who spends an insane amount of money on Angus beef

Miguel judges your hot dog toppings but says nothing

His ELOTE???? EUPHORIC

Like,,, it'll bring you to tears it's so good - I don't know how he does it

And when it comes to cooking he's ALWAYS willing to learn

He'd rather invite you over and cook you something than going out to eat

He'll learn something you like or where you're from and make something from there

Even better if you can teach him how to make something - the two of you can make it together

But his favorite part by far is setting it down at the table, trying not to seem like he's watching your reaction

And seeing your face light up at the first bite

Or even better -

Seeing you collapse into bed with a food coma

Miguel with cooking and food as a love language

[rottenpumpkin13]

Zack plus any other cc ppl:

How their day goes at Shinra if they wake up with MAJOR pimple on the most obvious face part

Zack: He puts a fun sticker on it and goes about his day.

Cloud: The infantry helmet hides it, thankfully. Although Zack's loud and encouraging speech about how he's "cute as is" and "shouldn't hide his imperfections to conform to beauty standards" draws attention to it.

Genesis: Applies three layers of makeup, carries around a mirror he peers into the whole day, and periodically asks Sephiroth and Angeal if it's obvious that he's wearing makeup to hide a blemish. They lie.

Sephiroth: "Perfection is an illusion, and a blemish on my face wouldn't bother me. Beauty is subjective, and these bodies we occupy aren't meant to be perfect."

Angeal: He really doesn't care and goes about his day normally, but the mere sight of it is driving Zack crazy, so he puts a sticker on Angeal's face.

Sephiroth, after getting said blemish: "Don't look at me."

Reno: Wears a ski mask and sunglasses, then tries to pass it off as a fashion trend. Of course, he does this and Tseng nearly has a heart attack because he thinks Reno has finally taken on a life of crime.

Rude: Picks at it until there's an angry, red splotch on his face. He then tries all the home remedies his mother used when he was growing up, and doesn't want to explain why his face is wrapped in a banana leaf.

Rufus: Orders everyone in the entire building not to look at him for an entire day. Except for Tseng. Tseng has to look at him to tell Rufus how attractive he still looks.

Tseng: Wears a mask and tells everyone that he's ill so they don't get too close.

[autisticlancemcclain]

secret santa for @leenfiend

“And you two…”

Shiro turns to look at them both, eyes narrowed, hand on his hip. Even being half-held up by Allura, Keith wants to straighten up on reflex, dust off his armour, stand at attention. He breaks away from the heavy stare, glancing over at Lance, only to find him already looking. He sneers when Keith makes eye contact, and in seconds they’re turning away from each other, scowling.

“Yeah,” Shiro sighs, looking down at his comm. “Yeah, I gotta do something about you two.”

———

The something, it turned out, was busywork.

Keith thinks he might strangle his brother. Keith knows he and Lance have been…difficult, the past few weeks — although for the life of him he could not tell you why — but sending them on some stupid mission that was so clearly just meant to waste time was just insulting.

Keith huffs, looking at the mission file again.

MISSION FILE: 24-62-XC

OBJECTIVE: find bananas. or something i dunno

PERSONEL: idiot a and idiot b. shiro said to erase that and write your names but your bickering has been driving me insane so no. suffer

LOCATION: Kunedg-12-2

DANGER LEVEL: none unless you kill each other lol

He reminds himself to mess around on Pidge’s laptop the next time she leaves it unsupervised. This whole stupid file is embarrassing, but the disrespect of the mission objective has to be the worst part. She couldn’t even bother pretending to come up with one.

“Could you maybe go brood somewhere else?” Lance snarks, startling him out of his thoughts. He lifts a delicate hand off the joystick to pinch his nose like something reeks. “Your emo-ness is throwing off my vibe and your angsty sweaty hormones are stinking up the place. Maybe go sit near the garbage shoot, or something.”

Keith bites back a growl, fists clenching at his side. “I smell fine.”

“Like finely chopped onions, maybe. Yuck.”

“That doesn’t even make sense!”

Discreetly, Keith lifts up his arm and takes a whiff. He scowls harder — he smells like the same space brand deodorant they all use. Lance is just being a dick for no reason, like he always is, like what got them into this stupid mess in the first place.

“Just — land the damn Lion, Lance. Try not to kill us.”

Even though he was trying to be insulting, Keith regrets it as soon as he says it. Lance’s back goes ramrod straight, like he was zapped with Pidge’s bayard, and the temp in the cockpit drops thirty degrees.

“Lance —”

“Do not even attempt to finish that sentence,” he hisses. His hands wrapping around the controls are slow and deliberate. His shoulders are straight as a ruler.

Keith sighs, tipping his head back and letting it thunk on the back of the chair. He should’ve — goddamn it. He’s not sure what he should have done, but they might as well turn around now and go back to everyone else. They could stay on this planet for days, now, and Lance won’t so much as look at him. Keith is sure of it.

“Better hold tight. Might slip on the control and oops! Mercy me. I’m so clumsy and careless, I might just kill us.”

The Blue-turned -Red Paladin accompanies every biting remark with a sharp jerk of the thrusters, shaking the whole lion around. Red must be happy to help, because the smoothness that Keith knows should usually accompany her movements is nowhere to be found — she’s letting Lance yank them around to his heart’s content. Keith doesn’t have much of a connection to her anymore, but he can almost feel the impression of her snapping her tail in indignation.

He grits his teeth, determined not to give Lance the satisfaction of reacting. Even as they do nauseating barrel roll after barrel roll, even after Lance dives and dips like a crazy person, even after he lifts his hands off the controls and lets them drop, totally free falling — Keith says nothing.

At least, not until he hears a soft, “Oh, shoot.”

“‘Oh shoot’ what?” he asks cautiously, knowing this might be a trap. If Lance bites back with oh, so you really don’t trust me to pilot!, Keith is genuinely going to stomp over there and strangle him.

“Um. So. Buckle up,” Lance says, and Keith has to bite back a scream of frustration.

Lance is no longer pulling wildly at the controls, intentionally driving like it’s the first time he’s seen an aircraft. His posture is careful and relaxed, shoulders loose and easily moveable. But his jaw is clenched, like he does when he’s stressed, and Keith begins to notice a flashing light in the corner of the stats display.

“Lance.”

“Everything is under control,” he says quickly.

“…Lance.”

“We’re not going to crash or anything,” he amends. “I didn’t — screw it up.”

He glances backwards, quickly meeting Keith’s eye, and Keith notices that his expression is pleading. Keith swallows the comment he wants to make and nods.

“But. Uh, the comm line to the team is cut off. Not sure why. Maybe the planet has bad signal? It was fine coming in. I’ll land and then we can investigate?”

It takes Keith a minute to realize that Lance is asking him. That Lance is looking at him to lead, as if Keith has ever ordered Lance around. As if it hasn’t been two ye — months. At least.

Keith clears his throat, looking away. “Yeah, dude. You’re piloting, your mission. Whatever you think is best.”

For once, Keith has said the right thing. The confirmation of control runs through Lance like a shiver, and a mix of confusion and relief and precious, precious hope flits through his dark eyes almost faster than Keith can register, then he’s turning back to face the control board.

“Cool. Hold on, there’s not much to land on here so it’ll be bumpy.”

It is bumpy. Honestly, Keith is surprised at how deftly Lance and Red land, for all he has to clench his hands around the armrests — this planet is truly just a thick nest of towering trees and curling vines. Lance has to slink Red between two trees and have her land curled around the base of one, because there just isn’t any space for her to touch down regularly.

“You managed not to kill us,” Keith tries, smiling.

Lance stares at him critically for a moment. Then, wonderfully, beautifully, miraculously, his expression clears, and he decides Keith is being genuine. The tiniest of smiles turn up his own lips, and he shrugs.

“Well, duh. I’m the best pilot out of the two of us, after all. Let’s go.”

He’s out the door before Keith can retort — maybe something along the lines of you literally ruin every single bonding moment we have ever had you actual twerp-brained fucker — and Keith is quick to follow. Any attempt at dialogue dies on his tongue the second he’s exposed to the outside air — and the wall of wet heat that slams into him like a bull stampeding in the wrong direction.

“Jesus H Christ on a one wheeled motorbike,” he wheezes. Every inch of his skin is immediately drenched in sweat. He’s never regretted his gloves more, and wishes with every fibre of his being that he’d actually listened to Shiro for once and worn his (temperature- controlled) paladin armour.

Lance ignores him, beam lighting up his face. “Oh, it’s beautiful here!”

Keith can actually feel his shirt cling to his back like a second skin. It’s disgusting.

“Huh?”

Because yeah, the planet might be pretty. It’s almost greener than Keith can comprehend – trees so tall Keith can’t even see the canopy; trunks covered in moss and vines; wide-leafed, curling bushes and plants; tropical flowers making the air smell sweet and fragrant. Keith watches as a gecko patters down a branch to rest in a patch of dappled sunlight. Pretty, sure.

But Keith is pretty sure he’s actually breathing in water. The air is so goddamn humid he’s not sure there’s actually any air in it, and he is sticky. Beautiful places are not sticky. 

Lance is already frolicking around like a goddamn nature fairy. He tugs off his jacket, tying it around his waist, but other than that he seems to revel in the humidity, breathing in deeply like he’s used to inhaling what is essentially gasified mist instead of air. He grins at the greenery like it’s familiar, despite the fact that they’ve never even glanced at this entire quadrant the entire time they’ve been in space, let alone this planet.

“You live to thrive wherever I do not,” Keith mutters, irrationally angry at Lance’s lack of suffering. He scowls at his back and says, louder, “We have a mission.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lance dismisses, still in the trance-like glee. He twirls around to face a huge, fern like plant, reaching up to caress the leaves and pet the back of a beetle. “You and I both know it’s busywork.“

“Yeah, well, it’s an official mission and we’re Paladins of Voltron, so. Personally I take that pretty seriously.”

It’s a low blow, as bad or worse as his piloting comment earlier. He winces as soon as he says it – Jesus, when did he start trying to piss Lance off – but luckily Lance doesn’t hear or doesn’t care, already twenty feet down some random path. Keith groans quietly and stomps after him.

Ten minutes ago, Lance could have suggested they turn around and leave and Keith would’ve been on-board. Now, as stupid as it is, Lance’s delight in this planet annoys him. It’s not fair that he’s amusing himself, and Keith is miserable. They’re supposed to both be miserable.

Somehow, though, he manages to keep his commentary to himself. Part of it is watching as Lance seems to…glow, on this planet, as strange as that is to notice. The giant smile has not left his face, and the yellow sunlight trickling through the leaves looks good on him. He hums as he walks, dancing under bent branches, even refraining from holding them back so Keith can get through and waiting until Keith is just barely past before snapping the branch back so Keith gets smacked in the face. And that’s one of his favourite hobbies.

He must be in a really good mood, if he’s not finding an excuse to smack Keith.

“Can we find some stupid fruit or something and get out of here,” Keith complains, finally having had enough. Have they actually been hiking for hours? Keith feels like he’s been hiking for hours. He feels like he’s seen the same eight plants nine hundred times. Everything has coalesced into a sea of green and he’s hot, goddamnit, and he’s never regretted an all-black ensemble more in his life. Maybe he listens to Shiro next time. Well, unlikely, but –

Something smacks him in the face, and he yelps. 

He bends down to grab the weapon, seething as he hears Lance’s snickering, and comes up with some kind of round, firm…thing.

“Fruit,” Lance supplies. “Feel free to head back to Red. You go back to the others and they’ll send your ass right back, catboy. You know as well as I do.”

Keith knows this. Of course he does. But it pisses him off that Lance is so blase about it, like Keith doesn’t know, that he clenches the fruit-thing in his fists and actually does stomp back to Red, leaving Lance to take a hike. 

“God he is so annoying,” he mutters to no one, aggressively biting the fruit. It’s delicious, which only serves to make him angrier. He puts on a high, mocking voice. “You go back to the others and they’ll send you back, blah blah blah. As if I don’t know that. As if I’m dumb.”

It’s relieving to get back into Red’s interior. It’s not exactly AC, but it certainly isn’t humid central, and any break from that heat is a welcome one. He sits heavily in the pilot’s chair, relishing in the familiarity of it, and sulks.

Or, well, he tries to.

The thing about sulking is that it gets very boring very quickly. That’s why he usually expresses his sulking through incredible violence, and why he misses the castle’s training room so much. That place was great. All Keith had to do was press a button and boom, he was being attacked. The literal dream.

Bored, he swings his legs over the armrest, opening his bayard and examining it. It’s weird to have such a contentious thing. Knowing all the blood it spilled in Zarkon’s name…it’s no wonder that his brother was so quick to get rid of it. But still, it’s a tool. A tool cannot be blamed for its master’s action, that much Keith had learned in the Blades.

He lets the blade glow and shrink in his hold until its back in its dormant position. He can’t very well train in here, as much as he would like to. Both Red and Lance would kill him, probably. 

Red makes a keening noise in his head. It’s the loudest he’s heard from her in…too long, and it startles him.

“What?”

Her presence in his head gets stronger, more insistent.

“What?” he repeats, sitting straight up. “What, girl, what’s going on?”

He yelps as the floor shifts under him – Red stands up, unwinding herself from around the tree. A growl reverberates through the entire ship, making the control board vibrate. A bad feeling begins to take root somewhere in his stomach.

“Red?! Red, what’s –”

Before he can finish, she opens her great maw, and literally spits him out. She doesn’t leave him time to get offended, nudging him forward the second he gets to his feet. She growls again when he looks back at her, tilting her head at the path Lance disappeared down.

All at once, Keith gets it.

He sprints. Bayard elongating in his hand, he runs as fast as he can, hacking away branches and vines with ease – when he chances a look down, he sees that it’s taken the form of a machete. His first bayard change.

He does not have time to celebrate it. 

He can barely hear it over the sound of his own pounding feet, but there’s a rumbling, somewhere in the distance. Keith has been hearing it for a while – he thought it was Red, or maybe just jungle noises.

Now, he hears the human voice responding to it.

Something is wrong.

“Please don’t be doing something stupid,” he prays, pushing himself faster. It’s not easy. Keith is in good shape, but the humidity is knocking the hell out of him – every breath feels like it’s getting half the oxygen it should. He’s tiring fast. But the noises are getting louder, closer, and yep, that’s definitely Lance’s voice. Keith isn’t exactly sure what he’s saying, but he knows the voice, of course he knows the voice, it’s the only one that never left his head once in two years. In a last burst of strength, he sprints toward the sound, slashing a near-solid block of vines. 

He slashes the last layer of vines back, thrusting forward, and very heroically lands on his face.

“Lance!” he shouts, jumping back to his feet. He whirls around, sure this is where he heard the growls interspersed with Lance’s murmuring. But he can’t see him anywhere.

“Here,” sighs a voice.

Keith looks up and barely chokes back a scream. 

Swinging from a vine, wrapped up to his neck in a cocoon of them, is Lance – but it isn’t a vine. It’s thick like one, and smooth, but bright white. And…gloopy, almost, because Lance is not wrapped in a bunch of vines but in strands and strands of silk, and perched on – or maybe clinging to – his swinging body is the biggest spider Keith has ever seen. 

“Get off him!” Keith yells, proud of himself for how little his voice shakes.

“Oh, great plan, Keith. Order the animal around. I’m sure it’ll heed your demands and cut me free.”

Keith flushes. “Shut up,” he hisses. “Victims of Miss Spider’s Sunny Patch Gone Wrong don’t get to snark!”

Lance shrugs. “You’re welcome to climb on up here and get me to shut up.”

As if in understanding, the spider hisses, scuttling down Lance’s body and lunging towards Keith, snapping its fangs. Keith shrieks and jumps back. Luckily, the spider doesn’t go past Lance’s head.

“She’s outta webs,” Lance explains. He doesn’t even flinch as the spider’s massive butt – spinnerets and all – rest on his forehead. Keith gags. “She won’t get too close to you, you’re too threatening –”

“I’m threatening?!”

“– so you’re in no danger. You can put the weapon away.”

“Put the weapon away – Lance, did it already suck out your brains?”

Lance glares hard at him. The effect is significantly lessened as the string of webbing he’s hanging from slowly turns, forcing his eyes away from Keith, and then also, well. The massive fuckin’ bug sitting on his forehead. So.

“No, she didn’t suck out my brains. She’s an animal, Keith, not dumb. Eating me would be stupid and a massive waste. I’m too big. I just freaked her out, is all. I should’ve been more careful in approaching her web.”

Keith places his face in his hands and yells. Just – screams, for a minute. He can’t believe he ever missed this asshole. He lived two blissful, blissful years without having to deal with any of this shit. 

And now, massive spiders. 

Great.

“I hate you,” Keith says. 

Lance nods, shrugging again. “Fair. Can’t leave without me, though.”

“I think I might. I’ll tell Allura you died tragically. Moment of silence, blah blah. Then I go home and have a lovely, quiet flight the whole time.”

“Hm, that won’t work. Hunk will be desolate. Inconsolable, I would even say.”

Keith sighs. A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, matching Lance’s grin. He cannot believe his own brain’s betrayal, allowing itself to be amused by Lance’s stupid jokes. 

“What am I gonna do about the spider, Lance.”

At its – hers, whatever – name, it hisses again. Lance remains unphased. He wriggles a little, even, as if the sharp fangs aren’t inches away from his eyeballs.

“I’m working on it, gimme a sec.”

Keith aquieses. He wants to slash through the stupid binds and be done with everything, but he’s worried that the spider might be faster than he is and hurt Lance before he can get the chance. If he can just find a way to smack the spider off…

“Hm. I got an idea. Keith, grab my comm.”

Keith bites back a comment about who should be ordering whom around, edging gingerly around the hissing spider to scoop up Lance’s dropped comm. He clicks it on, tapping in Lance’s password – 3425, spelling D-I-C-K – and holding it loosely in his freehand.

“Got it.”

“Great. Okay, open my spider translator app.”

“Your – what.”

“Spider translator app,” Lance explains patiently. “Been working on it with Coran. Spiders communicate mostly via pheromones, but a lot of ‘em use clicks, especially threateningly. I remember how to say ‘hi’ and ‘no harm’, and I think I remember the sound for ‘food’? But I’m not sure and I don’t want to say ‘no harm food’ but accident, or something dumb like that, ‘cause then she might get the wrong idea. I’m hoping for something closer to ‘no food’ or ‘bad food’. I think she kind of gets it, but she’s still spooked. If I click at her she might think I’m another spider, let me go. If all else fails we’ll use the pheromones Coran and I have stored in Red’s shipping dock, but that stuff really reeks and doesn’t really wash out so I’d rather not.”

Keith’s head starts to hurt. Vaguely, he starts to wonder if he hit his head somewhere and is now dreaming, but unfortunately this brand of weird is pretty regular Lance. It’s just been a while since Keith has been in full force of it. 

Plus, Coran has clearly been enabling. 

“I have Seen Things,” Keith says, stabbing at the stupid comm. The app is front and centre. It is used more than the actual communication app, Keith knows that because he finds the stupid spider app in seconds and literally cannot find the communication app. He is going to kill this boy, the second he makes sure he’s safe. “So many things in space, Lance. So many of them horrible. So many of them strange. You remember the blob people that talked by pissing? I remember the blob people that talked by pissing. That is less weird than this, Lance.”

The translation app is pretty intuitive. Keith will give him that. He finds a translation for ‘bad food’ pretty quickly, but can’t read what it says for the life of him. He glances up, taking in the spider and the sheer fucking size of it, and slowly extends his hand so Lance can see the comm screen. His fingers tremble ever so slightly. 

Lance has to strain his neck slightly to see the screen. Keith resists the urge to yell. But he quickly makes a series of clicks and tongue-sounds, attracting even more of the spider’s attention. It stares at him with all eight of its eyes for several minutes.

Then it turns, scuttling slightly away from Lance’s face. Keith lets out a huge sigh of relief – too soon – as the spider sinks its fangs in Lance’s chest.

Keith screams.

“Will you chill out!” Lance scolds. Keith’s screams only get louder, and he squeezes his eyes shut. “She is eating the silk, Keith, Jesus, stop yelling! I’m fine!”

“I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you –”

In minutes there’s a thunk, and a muffled “Ow.” When Keith looks up, Lance is sprawled on the ground, rubbing his wrist, and the spider is nowhere to be found.

“Are you physically fucking capable,” he says slowly, “of just – not doing stupid shit? Like at all? Maybe once.”

“Like you’re one to talk,” Lance retorts. He has a startling amount of dignity for someone with spider silk in his hair, still sat on the hard ground. “Your ass got stuck on the back of some whale for two years. Embarrassing.”

It is embarrassing, so Keith can’t retort. He makes a face and hopes it’s sufficient, but then Lance makes one right back, and he looks so fucking stupid in the fucking jungle and also kind of good for some reason and Keith’s heart is just barely slowing down, now, and his hands still shake and Lance just spoke fucking spider and Keith just.

He loses it, a little. 

He starts laughing and he can’t stop, and its so stupid, and he’s so fucking hot. His knees get weak and he’s landing on his ass, gasping for breath, Lance wheezing as he leans against Keith for support that he can’t even give. Who knows what other horrors lay in this stupid jungle – he and Lance are so loud they’re practically inviting them over – but Keith can’t stop for the life of him. His brain feels disconnected from his body. His stomach hurts so freaking badly. Every time he looks at Lance he loses it again. 

“Please take the fucking silk out of your hair,” he tries to say. Every word is interrupted by a wheezy giggle, so it doesn’t do much, but luckily Lance runs his hands through his hair anyways and it clings to his fingers instead. 

He calms, finally, keeping his attention on the strand of white silk, watching Lance’s thin fingers fiddle with it. He finally manages to calm down, too, taking huge breaths and trying to steady himself. 

“So,” Lance says when they can breathe again, “I’m sorry.”

“You should be, asshole. I thought you were gonna get eaten.”

“Oh, I’m not sorry about the spider. That was an honest misunderstanding.”

Keith sighs. For his own peace of mind, he convinces himself that Lance is joking. “What are you sorry for, then?”

Lance fiddles with the edge of his jacket. Keith notices, for the first time, that the tightly woven silk left red, raised welts around his skin. It must have been tight.

“I’ve been. A little. Standoff-ish. Perhaps.”

Keith snorts. “A little?”

“A lot,” Lance amends, smiling. He punches Keith’s shoulder. It is not gentle. “I missed you, Dropout. I didn’t expect to, and I didn’t like that I did. Misplaced aggression, all that.”

“You’ve matured remarkably in my absence,” Keith observes. He dodges Lance’s kick, but only barely. His smile hurts his face. “You’re almost, like…a real, functioning person now.”

“I take it back. You’re annoying. I didn’t miss you, all the letters I wrote you are a lie, in fact you can actually fuck right back off –”

Keith stills. “Letters.”

“– to the space whale, actually. See if I care.” Lance clears his throat. His face is getting steadily more flushed, and oh God it has nothing to do with the heat does it. “I don’t, in case that’s unclear –”

“Lance,” Keith says, a little more forcefully. Because – because oh God, this means. This means. “What do you mean, letters?”

“A new alphabet I came up with in my spare time,” Lance snaps, shoving Keith back and getting to his feet. “What do you think, you idiot.”

He tries to walk off, but Keith doesn’t let him. He wraps his hand around his wrist and tugs him back – too forcefully, accidentally, and Lance yelps as he stumbles right into Keith’s lap. Keith doesn’t stop him from moving frantically back, a little warm himself.

“Lance.” His tone is urgent. “Lance, I wrote you letters too.”

Finally, he stops squirming. “You did?”

“Yes. I don’t know if I can – I mean, I don’t have any here, but they’re stashed in Black, I couldn’t leave – oh.”

Lance’s lips are pressed to his.

Lance’s lips. 

Are pressed.

To his.

Lance is kissing him.

“Oh – oh.”

“Man, you really are an idiot.” 

His harsh words are significantly softened because they’re, y’know, mumbled into his mouth. Keith can’t quite bring himself to complain about that one, really, since Lance is warm but not suffocatingly slow and his mouth keeps curving into a smile and his lips are soft and. And. For once he’s too preoccupied to pick a real fight. 

Keith can live with him like this, he thinks.

“My letters.” Keith pulls away slightly, clearing his throat. “You can’t. Read them.”

Lance tilts his head. “Why?”

Embarrassed, Keith gestures between the two of them. “This didn’t – occur to me, Lance. So.”

A shit-eating grin curls across the Red Paladin’s face. “What didn’t occur to you, hot stuff?”

“You know,” Keith warns, glaring. His ears feel like they’re burning, and not just because of the stupid nickname. 

“I don’t!”

“You do, asshole, because you’re smirking like you do.” “No need to get presumptuous, Keithy. I simply do not understand. What didn’t occur to you –” he leans in again, breath tickling Keith’s neck and making him shudder – “me? Like…this? Close to you?” He presses a small kiss to the underside of Keith’s jaw. “...Liking you, maybe?” Keith’s breathing is embarrassingly heavy for what’s barely a little kissing. He tries desperately to get himself under control, but with Lance so, so close… “Or was it yourself you didn’t understand, hm? Wax a lot of poetic about me in those letters?”

Keith did. It’s true. He remembers one humiliating instance where he, in frustration of forgetting the details, tried to map out Lance’s face – the freckles that dot his nose, the shine of his brown eyes when he makes a perfect shot, the curve of his wide grin. He’s pretty sure ‘sparkling’ was used in description at least twice, which is…bad. 

In a last ditch effort, Keith gets his hands on Lance’s chest, lays his palms back, and shoves. When he’s flat on his back against the jungle floor, eyes wide and head tilted back to watch Keith’s face, Keith kisses him quiet. 

It works.

It works very well.

“Okay, we gotta – we gotta – not that this isn’t great, it is, but we gotta –”

Finally, Lance is the flustered one, the wordless one. Keith relishes in the feeling.

“Keith, get off, we –”

Finally, Lance succeeds in pushing Keith back. He rests on his heels, pouting (and subsequently ignoring the fact that he’s pouting, because, what kind of witchcraft).

“We have to go,” Lance says sternly. “Okay? We can – do this later. We gotta get back.”

Keith huffs. “They’re the ones who sent us away. They can deal for a few hours.”

“It’s been a few hours,” Lance reminds him. “Let’s just go, okay? Lots of excitement for one day.” He tilts his head back, smirking. “If we leave now I’ll set Red on autopilot and we can make out on the way back.”

Cold air in Red’s cockpit? Backdrop of stars and space? Somewhere to be that isn’t a jungle floor?

“Sold,” Keith says, hastily getting to his feet. The walk back to the Lion is the least complaining Keith has ever done about anything, even in his own head. 

Right before they walk into Red’s waiting and open mouth, Lance plucks a yellow, curved fruit from a tree. He tosses it to Keith, grinning widely.

“Mission accomplished.”

–––

happy holidays colleen :DD

[orangeheliophile]

"Golden."

What happens when your childhood best friend starts to barge inside your heart and invade all of your thoughts? Will you kick the explosion boy out?... please don't. He's praying that you won't.

Introduction

Warnings: cursing, childhood friends to lovers trope.

(Bakugou x reader. Reader has sun quirk, sunshine!reader, and Bakugou is head over heels. Reader is Afro-Latina, Bakugou is also a grunge/emo boy?...)

(I headcannon that Bakugou is Puerto Rican-Japanese and wears hearing aids. And the reader might be a bit of an oc.)

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You have a sun quirk. Meaning that you have solar powers, and also the abilities of the mythical sun gods?... You didn't really know. It was weird, really. Every time you stepped outside, light surges through your veins. The divine warmth immediately engulfs you. And it's almost as if your soul absorbs the energy of the sun.

That's it! You can feel energy. Everywhere around you is energy. You absorb it, and you exhale it. You can feel it in the very depths of your spirit. Your senses are stronger than normal human beings'. Emotions, thoughts, you can sense it all. The sun gives energy, but it can also drain you.

You're strong. Stupidly powerful, really. But you hold back. Afraid of what might happen if you lose control. You've never used your quirk for more than 30 percent, and that's always been more than enough.

You love your quirk. It makes you feel warm and free. But it makes you feel trapped in your body, like you want to escape this reality and explore the others. It makes you crazy, sometimes. Not knowing if you're dreaming or if this reality is really just confusing you. Being haunted by your nightmares in the dark. It's not psychosis! You think... nah.

You've always been energetic and maybe a bit cuckoo bananas. But everyone is! But that makes you feel upset sometimes, like you feel that you're insane and that no one believes you. But your loved ones constantly reassured you that you're completely normal! Even the voice inside your head comforts you, too! And who oddly sounds like Dr. Doofenshmirtz from-

Anyway, you looked a bit different from your personality. You're a goth, to be honest. Or were you into more edgy and grunge fashion?... Who cares? Not you. You dress however you'd like. You like dark colors. You wear piercings, and you like to wear some jewelry. The Addams family totally didn't inspire you at all-

You were also Afro-Latina? Is that the term they used? You have lovely curly hair, beautiful tan skin, beauty marks scattered on your body, and let's just say that your russet brown eyes shine dark honey in the sun. And there was this certain blonde, hotheaded boy that loves all of that. To him, you resemble the Amazonian warriors. You are badass.

But something itches your soul. You feel warm. Like your heart is swelling with this energy that you can't seem to get rid of. Your brain replays certain memories. And Bakugou Katsuki, your childhood best friend, is stubborn not to leave your mind and heart.

How dare he?...

How. Dare. He?

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Bakugou Katsuki has a powerful explosion quirk. Everyone knows that. He's reckless and good at everything. (His mother's words, not mine.)

You've been best friends since you could remember. Always sticking to each other no matter what. He even made you both red friendship bracelets. And strangely enough, they reminded you of the red string of fate. He totally didn't make them because it was his 5 year old way of marrying you.

Either way, you cherish the gift. Never taking it off as it goes along with the golden sun coin pendant you always wear. The first and only gift from your father.

Katsuki always protected you, holding your hand when you walked together, bullying your bullies, sharing his food, and listening to you whenever you were too shy to speak to anyone else.

He hates physical touch. But that changes when he's with you. Baby Kacchan was always clingy, following you around like a lost puppy and then holding your hand to make sure you don't wander off somewhere.

He thought you both were going to be together forever. He already had it all planned in his head. He was going to marry you, be the best number one hero, get his All Might card signed, and maybe stay friends with the quirkless nerd he calls his friend. Maybe.

It broke him. It broke him entirely when you came crying to him that you had to move back to your home country. When you hugged him, he didn't let go. He refused to let you go. You didn't want him to let you go.

Both of your mothers were deeply saddened. They have been best friends. Your mother could see the way Katsuki cared about you. She never wanted to ruin that. And it hurt her heart when Mitsuki had to pry the blonde off of you at the airport. He threw a fit. Desperately holding your hands and trying to cage you to him, you cried, not wanting to leave him and your friend Izuku.

He was quiet for a month after you left. He didn't yell, didn't try to show off his quirk, and he even didn't even try to start a fight with anyone. You both have known each other since you were newborns. You were both 8 when you left.

He promised never to forget you. And he demanded that you never forget him. When you arrived in your home country, he called you every day. He wrote to you letters, and even sent you small gifts with them from time to time. But one day, you stopped answering. He panicked, not knowing what to do as even his mother had no idea what was going on. And so, you lost touch...

...Until you suddenly arrived back in Japan in your first year of UA. Wow, Y/n. Talk about surprises. Luckily for you, this time, he was making sure that he was going to stick to your side forever. Wait, what?! What do you mean that you don't remember him?! What the fuck?!-