#HELLOOOO GANG WAS I LATE?

[jackalopedaily]

Jackalope Daily Day 309!

[the-scarlet-witch-22]

the girl is mine (Agatha Harkness x Reader)

Summary: When your fascination with Mayor Agatha Harkness becomes all consuming, what lengths will you go to in order to get her attention?

Word Count: 3.2K

A/N: Helloooo, this is a fun little one shot I’ve had sitting in my drive for a while and I finally got around to finishing it. Title & fic idea are both heavily inspired by Ariana Grande’s music video ‘the boy is mine’. Agatha has been consuming my every waking thought lately, so I hope you enjoy this fun au! Let me know what you think, my asks/dm’s are always open!

Growing up you never showed much interest in politics, and you certainly could never name more than a few politicians off the top of your head. It was dull, and you failed to find a group of white men who were knocking on death’s door to be riveting. But all of that changed with the election for the new mayor. In the past, you were vaguely aware of upcoming elections, and tried to remember to vote. But you never actively followed a campaign; at least, not until her. 

The her in question being Agatha Harkness, newly elected mayor of New York City. Being the only daughter of the former long-time U.S. Senator Evanora Harkness, politics was in her blood. Running a cutthroat campaign full of promises to clean up the city and help its residents, all whilst viciously annihilating her opponents one by one in debate, she quickly became the candidate to back. Posters of her face were plastered over every crevice of the city; with her perfectly messy dark brown curls, plump red lips, pristinely bright white smile, and lustrous blue eyes it was no surprise you became hooked. 

You followed the campaign at a slightly obsessive level, tuning into every debate and press briefing, even having notifications for Agatha Harkness enabled on every platform hoping for a glimpse of the woman who had slowly taken over your every waking thought. She was brilliant, and she had absolutely no idea you existed. 

At least, not yet. 

A few months after the election, Mayor Harkness appeared to be following through on her campaign promises. Unemployment was at a record low, there were different initiatives to help funding for the public school system, even crime and gang activity became nearly nonexistent. 

However there were rumblings from various journalists that perhaps the mayor wasn’t as perfect as she appeared to be. A few reports were suggesting that instead of eradicating the crime syndicates that had been plaguing the city for decades, she had merely moved operations underground. Others hinted that perhaps she had something to do with her mother’s rather mysterious and sudden death. But that was absurd, you thought to yourself as you watched the mayor on your television screen, her bright blue eyes twinkling back at you as she answered a few questions. 

Potion making had never been your speciality, as you were still fairly inexperienced in most realms of magic, but you froze as Agatha gave a sly wink when being asked how she kept crime rates lowered. Stirring the cauldron with renewed vigor, the pink fumes filled the room as you inhaled.

Your eyes drifted over to the outfit you had hung on the outside of your closet, briefly wondering if the plan you had concocted was too unhinged. But the mayor’s authoritative voice caught your attention once more as you turned back to the screen.

“Yes, you,” Agatha motioned to one of the eager reporters holding their hands up. 

“Madam Mayor, how do you respond to allegations that you accepted illegal campaign donations from some of the top crime families in the city?” 

The mayor didn’t appear to be phased by the question, pursing her lips as she frowned. “Well, I’d say that sounds like yet another baseless claim from the media’s fruitless attempts to discredit my accomplishments. The witch hunts didn’t stop in Salem, did they?” 

The clamor of dozens of reporters resulted in the mayor waving her hand to decline any other questions, leaving the press briefing room with her team in tow. Shutting off your tv, you glanced back at the outfit, a feeling of determination washing over you. 

Popping the cork off the vial, you carefully poured the liquid in the bottle. Pretty soon the only thought on the mayor’s mind would be your name. 

After all, what could possibly go wrong?

The next morning, you were out the door before the sun was over the horizon, running through the plan again in your head with your destination clear in mind. You had come up with the idea late one night while researching the effects of various love potions. It was risky, sure, but you had taken the time to perfect this particular potion, leaving no room for error.

The rest of the plan was rather reliant on your ability to trick the mayor’s staff into thinking you were a reporter, but hey, using a few charming spells wasn’t unethical if it was in the name of love, right?

By the time you made it to the mayor’s office you were already having second thoughts. Could you go to jail for impersonating a reporter? 

Unfortunately, you had run out of time to turn around as the friendly looking older woman sitting at the front desk waved you over. Approaching her, you ran through what you had practiced saying in the shower. Quickly looking at the personalized name plate on the edge of her desk, you gave her a wide smile.

“Good morning, Sharon. I have an appointment scheduled this morning with Mayor Harkness,” you greeted the receptionist, keeping any trace of nervousness from your tone.

“Oh, an appointment?” Sharon asked, appearing to be confused as she looked at her computer, clicking around with her mouse. “I hate these things, I can never find what I’m looking for. Do you know what never has silly malfunctions? A nice, simple day planner.”

Raising your eyebrows, you nodded along. “Of course. Very reliable.”

Sharon nodded in agreement, still struggling with her computer. “Exactly. I’ve tried explaining that to the mayor but she just waves me away to get her more tea.” She paused, frowning at whatever was on the screen. “I’m not seeing any appointments for this morning. What did you say your name was again?”

Internally sighing, and hoping you had learned this particular spell correctly, you discreetly waved your left hand, mumbling the incantation under your breath. You had never tried an enchantment before, but the spellbook made it appear to be simple enough. As long as you said the right words and had your intention clear in your mind it would work. It had to.

Clearing your throat, you gave her another bright smile. “I’m sure if you check your calendar again, it will have me marked down for an appointment with the mayor. I’m here for a last minute interview.” 

Sharon blinked, and her eyes appeared hazier than they were a moment prior, signaling your spell had worked. Looking back at her computer, she gave you a mindless smile. “Oh of course! This silly computer. Right this way, I’ll take you to the mayor.”

Following the receptionist down the hallway, you made note of how the enchantment did not appear to make any obvious changes, at least not outwardly. You did feel a slight twinge of guilt at manipulating someone without magic, but those thoughts were expelled from your brain as you saw the woman who had bewitched you from the first moment you saw her.

Agatha Harkness was leaning against her open office door, a sly grin on her face as she chatted with a nervous looking employee. Her long dark brown hair was messily splayed across her shoulders, and you could picture running your fingers through it.

With one hand cocked on her hip, and the other tucked in the pocket of her expensive looking purple slacks, you felt your breath hitch. This was really happening.

After a few moments, Agatha looked over at you and her receptionist, and she waved the employee away as she frowned. 

“Shannon, who do we have here?” Agatha curiously asked, looking you up and down.

You frowned, wasn’t her name Sharon?

Sharon didn’t appear to notice, as she mindlessly smiled. “The reporter for your interview is here, Madam Mayor.”

The mayor’s frown deepened, looking between you and her receptionist. “I thought I told you to clear my schedule this morning. I don’t remember agreeing to any more interviews.”

“It’s the only appointment scheduled for this morning,” Sharon insisted, and you prayed to whatever deity that was listening that your spell didn’t wear off too soon. “I must have forgotten to mention it to you.”

Agatha hummed, a thoughtful expression on her face as her gaze remained fixated on her receptionist. “I see.” She finally looked back over in your direction, curiously eyeing you. “I suppose I can spare a few minutes. Thank you, Shannon, that will be all.”

Sharon, or maybe Shannon, walked back to her desk and Agatha held her hand out, gesturing for you to enter her office. You tentatively walked through the doors, as the mayor followed closely behind, shutting the doors shut.

The mayor’s office wasn’t quite what you had expected. It was a lot bigger than you pictured, and the longer you looked around the more you wondered how it was this size. Large violet tinted drapes hung from the windows, and you were momentarily stunned from the view this high up. 

You knew from various interviews that the mayor was an avid reader, so you were unsurprised to find floor to ceiling rows of bookshelves lining three of the four walls. However, you were surprised to find some of them appeared rather old, and you weren’t close enough to read the titles but you managed to make note that a good chunk of them appeared to be in Latin.

“You can take a seat,” Agatha said cordially, walking past you to her desk. “Let’s try and make this snappy.”

Taking a step forward, you pulled one of the chairs out, but in the process of sitting down, the vial of potion you had in your pocket came tumbling out, crashing on the ground as the glass broke, spilling the contents all over the floor. 

Shit.

“I’m so sorry, I forgot I had that in my pocket,” you quickly apologized, trying to think of a somewhat convincing story. “You know how delicate perfume bottles can be.”

“Perfume?” Agatha repeated, tilting her head as she examined you, a calculated expression on her face as the frown lines on her forehead deepened.

“Yes. It’s…French,” you offered, avoiding eye contact as you cleared your throat. This was a horrible idea.

Agatha frowned, intrigue coloring her features as she eyed the now broken vial of potion. “I see…what publication did you say you were from again?”

“The Times,” you lied, straightening your posture as she turned her attention back to you. “It’s actually my first day.”

Raising her eyebrows, the mayor sat back in her seat. “You don’t say, and they sent you to interview me? How ambitious.”

“I’ve been following your career for a while,” you prompted, brainstorming ways to possibly salvage this opportunity. “The work you’ve done for the city is quite admirable.”

“Admirable?” Agatha scoffed, folding her arms across her chest. “I can’t say I’ve been hearing a lot of that from your esteemed peers.”

“Well, some people hate to watch a woman be successful in a position of power,” you offered, and your answer appeared to appease the mayor, as she gave you a curt nod. “Besides, it’s not like you actually did any of those things, people love making up stories.”

You weren’t sure if it was the lighting in the office or your imagination, but there was a brief flash of something on the mayor’s face. If you didn’t know any better, you would say she seemed amused at what you said. But that was ridiculous, right? 

“Of course,” Agatha answered, slowly licking her lips. “Why don’t we get started?”

It was then that reality set in. You hadn’t anticipated actually having to ask the mayor any questions, the potion would have already kicked in at this point. Unfortunately, Agatha observed your hesitation as she let out a deep sigh, and you could tell she was growing more annoyed.

“You know, most journalists send over their questions beforehand,” Agatha informed you, giving you an inscrutable glance as you nervously fumbled around. “I’m a very busy woman, despite what certain media outlets are spewing out.”

“I apologize, Madam Mayor. I don’t want to waste any of your time,” you insisted, wondering yet again why you thought this plan would work to begin with.

Agatha opened her mouth to say something else, but hesitated for a moment, giving you another inquisitive stare. “Very well, I suppose not everyone can be Christiane Amanpour, hm?”

Christiane Amanpour? The name sounded relatively familiar, but you couldn’t place where you had heard it from. 

“You know, the world renowned journalist?” Agatha added on, deep blue eyes boring into your own, and you quickly nodded.

“Of course, I’m such a big fan of her work,” you gushed, but in the back of your mind you had a sinking feeling this wasn’t going the way you hoped it would.

“I’m sure you are,” Agatha mused, and there was something in her words that led you to believe perhaps this was going worse than you were imagining. “How about I ask my assistant to make us some tea? That always helps calm my nerves.”

She was so kindhearted, you noted, feeling yourself relax again as you nodded in agreement. The responding grin Agatha gave you sent a shiver down your spine.. Maybe you could make this work. Sure, you weren’t actually a journalist at The Times and Agatha would eventually realize that when no story came out, but that was a problem for the future. You barely paid attention as Agatha made a quick call to her assistant, but after she hung up you refocused.

“I have to tell you, Sharon was very helpful this morning,” you said honestly, still feeling some lingering guilt over using an enchantment on her. 

“Who’s Sharon?” Agatha deadpanned, giving you a puzzled look. 

For a moment you thought she was joking as you let out a nervous, quiet laugh, until you realized she was being serious.

“Um, your assistant?” 

“Oh, Shannon?” Agatha corrected you, waving her hand dismissively. “She does what she’s told. A bit too chatty for my personal taste.”

You tried to hide the surprise from your face as you processed what the mayor said. That was a bit strange, but maybe the receptionist’s nameplate was wrong? After all, Agatha was so good. All the work she had been doing for the city, you knew she genuinely cared about helping people. Right?

“Of course, my mistake,” you said quietly, awkwardly crossing your legs.

Sharon, or Shannon, came in a few moments later with two cups of tea. Her eyes were still slightly glazed over, but the enchantment would surely wear off soon…probably. Actually, you weren’t sure how long the spell would last. But she would be fine…probably.

When you were alone again, Agatha let out a low chuckle, and you frowned. You didn’t say any of that out loud, right?

“Oh don’t mind me, dear,” Agatha said, giving you another charming smile and you felt your worries instantly slip away as she held out one of the cups. “Tea?” 

The mayor’s lithe fingers brushed against yours as you accepted the cup, and you let out an involuntary shiver at the lingering contact. Slowly withdrawing her hand, Agatha smirked at the flush you could feel spreading across your cheeks. Raising her own cup to her lips, you were entranced watching her ruby red lips part as she took a small sip. 

Following her lead, you lifted your cup, but hesitated. The tea’s sweet aroma invaded your senses as you inhaled, and for a moment the scent smelled oddly familiar. You weren’t usually a tea drinker, you preferred coffee, but it was odd, the longer you allowed the scent to settle the more you wondered what was in it. 

Looking up, you found Agatha watching you again, her cup lowered back on her desk as she surveyed you. 

“Is the tea not to your liking?” The mayor asked, appearing genuinely concerned.

“No, it smells great,” you insisted, raising the cup closer to your lips.

Her blue eyes were so warm and inviting, and she gave you a small encouraging nod, enticing you to take a sip. The warm liquid was as sweet as it had smelled, almost too sweet, you noted, allowing it to swirl around your mouth as you swallowed. 

“Good girl,” Agatha murmured, so quietly you barely heard her.

Blinking, you felt the room begin to spin as you struggled to make sense of what was happening. The sickeningly sweet taste lingered in your mouth as you felt your body grow heavier with every breath you let out. You barely heard the crash of your teacup hit the floor as your hands fell to your sides. 

Your eyes struggled to remain open as you attempted to fight whatever was happening to you, but felt firm hands hold you in place.

“Don’t fight it, pet, I’d hate to have Shannon clean up even more of a mess,” Agatha whispered in your ear as everything went dark.

The throbbing of your headache was the first thing you were aware of as you finally came to, eyes fluttering open. There was a dull ache that seemed to run through your entire body, and you struggled to recognize your surroundings. It was then you realized why you felt a dull ache, as you came to the startling realization your body was suspended midair, hands and feet bound. 

Were you still dreaming? 

“Not quite, dear.”

What?

You tried to move your head, but failed as you heard a responding chuckle at your fight to free yourself.

“I must say, you’re clever. Inexperienced, but clever,” Agatha mused as she came into focus, walking towards you with a smirk painted across her face. 

“I…” you struggled to speak, your throat far too dry, and Agatha fake pouted, raising her hand to brush against your face.

“Is someone feeling shy? Where’s that confident little witch who used an enchantment spell on my assistant?” Agatha mocked, lightly slapping your cheek before tracing a finger across your lips. “Tell me, what was your plan after slipping me that love potion?”

“I don’t…I don’t understand,” you said deliriously, still feeling an odd sensation in your head.

“Normally I’d have drained you of your magic by now,” Agatha said aloud, her long fingers moving lower, and you gasped as they wrapped around your neck. “It’s been a long time since someone’s managed to surprise me.”

“You’re a witch?” You managed to get out, torn between the paralyzing fear of what was occurring and a more carnal desire as you felt a heat pool between your legs from the way the mayor was looking at you. 

“And here I thought you were clever,” Agatha said, a wicked gleam in her eyes as she squeezed, the pressure causing you to moan.

She moved closer to you, not releasing her hand from your throat as her lips grazed yours. “Now, I think it’s time I break in my new toy, hm? Why don’t you show me how much you worship me.”

The mayor released you from your magical bindings as you hit the floor, and swirls of purple magic surrounded you, forcing you on your knees as she roughly grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up at her. 

“I’ve always wanted my own pet.”

[floshav]

daydreams

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

fandom: Harry potter

pairings: regulus black x fem!reader

heads up! words that are written in italics are y/n's or regulus' thoughts

ʷᵒʳᵈ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᵗ : 1.7k

warnings : mention of readers chest being small, cuss words, pining, dirty thoughts, jealousy, obsessive thoughts

summary: regulus and y/n have become quite close over the years, it all started when they found relatability in both having obnoxious siblings who overshadowed them. One smitten day, y/n finally realised that she'd just might be catching feelings for her best friend. She would always find herself nervous or giddy whenever they were together. Always wondering whether she looked fine or if she could ever be his type. These were all new feelings to her, nothing that she'd ever really thought about in the past when she was with him, but the main thoughts that fled her mind were far more devious than she'd like to admit. Regulus takes up on the fact that y/n seems dazed out whenever they're together, and makes it his mission to find out what just runs through her mind.

!picture is not mine!

"Regulus Arcturus Black. if you like the damn girl just go talk to her! idiot." Y/n said with a mouth full of bland mashed potatoes, she never really liked the taste.. but what choice did she have anyway.

"No, i will not embarass my stupid ass in front of Heather. Plus i dont even like her that much!" Regulus screeched exhaustedly.

"Yea right. Why did you get all nervous and panicky when she spoke to you? I call bullshit Black" Y/n now said while sipping on her goblet filled with pumpkin juice.

"Its because i literally have no social skills whatsoever when it comes to girls y/n. You should know that by now stupid." Regulus said in an annoyed smiley face, almost chuckling at his inabilities.

"Wowwwww. Fine. So im not a girl to you then?" Y/n scoffed while rolling her eyes dramatically.

"Yes madam y/n! I think you'd suit a beard. Oh wait, or was it Sir y/n?" Regulus teased while continuing the last bit of last minute homework he had layed on the table.

"Fuck off." Y/n now said with a toothy grin trying to focus on the meal at hand "Look the only reason why i dont feel nervous around you is because you're my bestfriend y/n. What, do you want me to be nervous around you?" Regulus now said directly looking into y/n's eyes making her feel a weird churn of nervousness in her stomach.

"U-uh no. What- i totally knew that! I was just messing with you Reggie." Y/n mumbled now not being able to hold the eye contact she was holding seconds ago.

Was this how it was going to be from now on? Me feeling this weird sensation whenever Regulus got a bit playful. Ugh kill me now.

Without realising it, y/n had been silent for a few moments just lost in her thoughts making Regulus' curiousity peek.

"What in merlin's name has you so zoned out. Helloooo" Regulus said whilst waving his hand effortlessly in her face.

'Hmm? Yes what is it." Y/n said finally out of her head

"Nothing. You just seem a bit off lately, everything alright?" Regulus inquired now paying full attention to her

"N-no. Uhm everythings fine. Stop acting weird Reggie!" Y/n panicked, because it seemed like he was catching on to her thoughts

"Okay... chill out wanker" Regulus now said with an awkward face, but resumed his homework to end this seemingly awkward conversation they were beginning to have.

"Hey Regulus! c'mere!!"

y/n and regulus whipped their heads to meet eyes with the voice whow as calling his name. Low and behold, it was Heather.

She was sitting over next to her gang giggling and whispering to eachother, like a bunch of idiots y/n thought.

There it was again, those feelings of jealousy that turned in her stomach.

Stop it you idiot! Stop stop stop. This is great for regulus. He needs another friend. Yes. Enough!

"Shit, what the hell do i do?!?" Regulus now panicked whilst trying to make it seem like he wasnt. Ultimately failing at it of course.

"Just go talk to her fool! This is your time to finally make a new girlfrien- i mean friend thats a girl! Reggie look, if anything happens i'll be here, ready. Wands out and all." Y/n said with reassuring eyes which always made Regulus feel better.

"Okay. OKAY OKAY. I CAN DO THIS. Thank you y/n. You're the bestest friend ever" Regulus motivated himself whilst slowly getting out of his chair for a slow yet sauve approach towards Heather and her minions.

Even though y/n was proud of her shy friend, she couldnt help put feel a pit form at the bottom of her stomach from the words "You're the bestest friend ever". I mean it was true right? They were the bestest friends. Probably the bestest friends in Hogwarts if it wasnt for their obnoxious siblings being the so called marauders. So why was she feeling sad that it was just that.

Y/n glanced over at the pair who had seemed to kick it off. It wasnt much of a sight for sore eyes persay, but what could she do.

She glanced over at her watch which she wished was running late, because it meant she was late for her first class, potions with slughorn. Great. She checked back to see if regulus had noticed the time, but all she saw was the thing she loved most, his smile intended for the eyes of Heather. Without even bothering, she got up and gathered her textbooks to leave the great hall.

Timeskip to the middle of class!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

Y/n spent most of the class bored, wondering where Regulus was because he was NEVER late, and she really means never. Her attention was finally awakened when everyone heard the wooden door to the classroom creak open, only to reveal... Regulus.

"Ah! Regulus Black. Finally care to join us now? You've been absent for the past 30 minutes! You shall see me after class. Now, take your seat and refer to the person next to you." Slughorn warned sternly.

Y/n didnt even bother to look his way, knowing that he didnt even notice her leave the great hall earlier, let alone for 30 minutes straight. It was petty of her, but they were bestfriends for merlins sake! They never left eachother's side ever since they met.

Out of the blue, she felt a small piece of crumpled up parchment hit the side of her face. She crouched down the pick it up, finally realising it was from the douche himself.

She subconsciously rolled her eyes while unravelling it to see Regulus' neat handwritting apologising for the earlier events.

hey im sorry for not walking to class with you earlier, Heather wanted to show me something and guess what? She ended up locking me in the fucking broom closet with her for like 30 minutes trying to make out with me or some shit.

was what the letter read out.

Y/n started to feel a pit of jealousy form but couldn't help but feel bad that Regulus had to do something he didnt want to do. But many thoughts raced her mind.

What if they actually did makeout and he was trying to make it seem like they didnt. No y/n. Stop why would you even care if he made out with her or not. Its good that he's getting some action in his romantic life right? Right.

What if it was me that was stuck in there with him. All the things i'd do to see him in a loose tie and ruffled up hair panting breathless all because of me. The way his hands would feel on my waist while i stared up at him with innocent eye- SHIT. STOP LETTING THESE THOUGHTS ROAM YOUR HEAD!!

And with those thoughts, Y/n's face immedietly turned red with embarassment and lust. What if those thoughts ever became a reality were the thoughts that constantly replayed in her mind.

"psst wanker. I didnt mean to leave you, seriously. Im sorry." Regulus now said dangerously close to y/n's ear, making her feel hot all of a sudden.

"Whatever" was the only word that y/n mumbled whilst focusing her attention back to whatever slughorn was saying.

"C'mon dont be like that." was the last sentence Regulus said before giving up

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ time skip ! after all classes

Y/n spent the whole day speed walking away from Regulus just to not cause a scene. If there was no one around she would most definitely be running away from the boy, not wanting to see his face at all. Life was a blur at that point, thoughts fogged up with Regulus whilst y/n dragged through the day without any social interaction, which surely couldn't be healthy until finally, Regulus managed to corner her at the end of an empty hallway.

"Y/n, whats up with you? You've been avoiding me for the whole day." Regulus now said while looking into y/n's eyes hands at the side of her face pinning the wall behind her.

Y/n started to feel nervousness bloom in her stomach again, and even in the places she didnt want to mention.

"Look. I get it, im a forgettable part of your day so what's the point in dwelling on this friendship when you could go start a fresh new one with Heather!" Y/n said frustrated while she felt a heavy feeling start to overcome her eyes.

"Y/n what? Are you okay? How can you be a forgettable part of my day when i literally spend every waking moment with you! Even when we're apart, the only things that cross my mind are.. well first of all slughorns long ass essay papers, but for the most part you!" Regulus softly raised his voice with frustration while his mouth hung low

"I-i, Im sorry im not enough Reggie. Maybe Heather would be a better friend, i mean she's pretty, she has good grades and for merlin's sake atleast she has womanly boobs for a guy to like." Y/n cried out now feeling tired with herself whilst she looked down to her shoes.

"Hey look at me." Regulus said while using his hand to lift her chin up

"I don- " He sighs. "i dont fucking want Heather y/n. I want you and only you." He said with intense eye contact which made y/n fall weak in her knees.

"Y-you wh-" Before y/n could finish her sentence, she felt a warm pair of lips gently crash into hers before doubtfully backing away.

"i-i shit. im sorry y/n i dont know why i did that i-" Regulus stuttered with regret before feeling a soft pair of hands and lips caress his face roughly.

"Shut up. You're forgiven" Y/n mumbled through their much so needed kiss.

Regulus had both his arms wrapped around the bottom of her waist, being ever so delicate with the touch whilst y/n was going at it at his lips, wanting the moment to last forever. Soft pants and whimpers were left from Regulus' mouth wanting y/n to never stop.

"I wish i told you i loved you sooner." Were the last words that left Regulus' mouth before their night took off.

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

GUYS. This was my FIRST ATTEMPT AT WRITING SOME BORDERLINE STEAMY STUFF. *cries internally* i hope it was okay... i know it was short but if you liked it lmk please!! i will release more in the future. Also if you have any requests for fanfic plots, you can always flood my asks!!

[animaniacs-groove]

I have groove AU brainrot rn omfg /pos

Anyway (apologies to the admin for bringing my ocs into this ahudshuai)

You guys know how your younger siblings Hailyn and Rylan are 10 now? Is Hailyn still into Disney? Have you guys ever been to Disneyworld at all? I gotta know !

Not a question but i just adore you guys so much! <3

Oh, hey Toony! Yep, Hailyn and Rylan are ten, and Hailyn still loves Disney. Lately she's been big on the Lion King and stuff. She LOVES Timon, and who could blame her? I love the guy too! Just... don't tell Plotz I said that.

Us Warner toons all have to pretend to hate Disney, but really, most of us really admire the Disney toons. Where would we be without Mickey and the gang, huh?

As for Disney World, we've actually never been. It's in Florida, and we haven't left California since the show ended. I don't even wanna go to Florida right now considering who's in charge...

Helloooo Ron DeSantis! Yick, I feel gross just SAYING that...

We do go to Disneyland every other year though. It's super fun AND super thrilling, sneaking around the park and trying to not get recognized. I've heard Disney World is better, but hey, we'll just have to find out for ourselves if we ever end up in Florida! Maybe one day me and my bandmates will tour near Orlando, so we'll be close to the parks! Thanks for the question, Toony!

[the-rat-dad-au-fan-story]

Rat Dad AU - Chapter 2 - Survive the night - (Part 6)

(Warning:English isn't my first language)

(Jasper then looks at Chuck and the gang.) Jasper: GUYS! (Then the sun thing turns around and sees the group.) Sun thing: GASP SOME OF THE NEW FRIENDS FINALLY ARRIVE! Chuck: Wha- (And in a blink of a eye the sun thing is in Chuck face.) Sun thing: HELLOOOO! NEW FRIENDS! Is so nice to finally meet you! I still can't belive we getting new friends! You most be Chuck! (The sun thing then shakes Chuck hang really fast.) Sun thing: I'm Sun! I'm the daycare attendant here in the daycare! Chuck: …Is nice to meet you? Sun: You guys most be Helen, Munch, Pasqually and…. (Sun looks at Gregory.) Sun: Gasp(Picks him up) Helloooo! New friend! You're sure up late! Are we having a slumber party? Are those guys your friends?" Chuck: Wow. Hey be care- Jasper: No worry Chuck. That guy is harmless… But to energetic… I been here for like 40 minutes and he hasn't stopped talking. Chuck: Jasper! Are you ok? Jasper: I'm ok… just a little tired of hearing that guy, but I'm fine. Chuck: Thank God. Jasper: So… who's the kid? Chuck: Well… First of all I need to explain where we ar- Jasper: We in the Pizzaplex… we went bankrupt… Fazbear's bought us. Chuck: … You already know this? Jasper: Sun gave me the explanation when I woke up here. He's really nice. I can see why he's the daycare attedant. Chuck: Well… the kid is named Gregory. He's been running away from a lady called Vannesa that is been trying to catch him, and she gives really bad vibes. I tried to help him escape… but the entrace close before he could leave. So now I'm trying to help him find another way to escape. Jasper: So… how has been the exploration to find another way out going? Chuck: Well we kinda hit a road block. We need to find a Security Badge so we can use the elevator. Jasper: Security Badge? Well… there a security desk over there by that gate. Maybe there a Security Badger over there. (Chuck looks to the direction that Jasper mention and see the desk.) Chuck: Oh! Thanks Jasper. Jasper: No problem. (Chuck then starts to move towards the desk to see if there a Security Badge.) Jasper: Hey Chuck one thing. Chuck: What? Jasper: Sun said to me that there this rule that we have to keep the lights on. And he sounded really serious about that rule so don't turn off the lights. Chuck: Uhhhh… Thank's for the warning… (Chuck then reachs the security desk and starts to look around. Then he opens a box shaped like Glamrock Freddy head wearing a security officer's hat.) Chuck: Bingo! Finally something that was easy to get for on- (Then the lights turn off.) Chuck: What the? Sun (in the middle of the play area.): No, no! Why would you do that? Lights on! Lights on! I warned you- I WARNED YOU! (Gregory, Helen, Pasqually and Munch all move away from sun.) (Sun grunts in pain and he falls into the ball pit. Then a hand comes out of the ball pit.) Sun?: Naughty boy. Naughty boy. It's past your bedtime. (Then Sun now looking like a moon rises from the ball pit and looks at Gregory.) Moon: You must be punished. Nighty-night.

[milliumizoomi]

𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐇𝐔𝐓 𝐔𝐏

➣ SUMMARY. ; Shutting up TR boys with a kiss

➣ FEATURED. ; Mitsuya, Baji, Chifuyu & Draken w/ GN! Reader

➣ FORMAT. ; Headcanons

➣ GENRE. ; Fluff + Slight Crack

➣ WARNINGS. ; Cursing and Rambling

➣ NOTES. ; This request was soooo cute thank you for requesting my love,, hope you enjoy it <33!!

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

⌕ MITSUYA

✗ he would literally be so shocked but try to hide it

✗ and would lowkey want another one but would say nun about it

✗ he was rambling about a last minute project for his home ec club

✗ poor boy was frustrated as hell since the teachers were telling him about it 3 days before it had to be submitted

✗ he was just babbling while running around the home ec room while you sat in the corner

✗ “Babe..?” You called out.

✗ he didn’t even hear you

✗ he was just running around the room like a mad person trying to find supplies

✗ “Takashi?”

✗ still nothing

✗ you got up and walked over to him

✗ “helloooo?? Earth to boyfriend can you even hear me?”

✗ he flinched at you, finally beginning to hear you

✗ “o-oh were you calling me babe? I’m sorry it’s just that I was looking for the stuff for the project and I don’t want it to be late so I’m rushing and I—“

✗ you just leaned in a kissed him

✗ man had to take a few blinks before he could even begin to understand what was going on

✗ he kissed back ofc🙄

✗ after you pulled back you hit him lightly

✗ “you can shut up now you know and also,, don’t overwork yourself you look like a cat going after a laser pointer the way you was scrambling around this room”

✗ “yeah.. sorry about that” he laughed nervously

✗ “you all good, NOW! Let’s work on this together cause god knows you need some help with this”

✗ he nodded and smiled

✗ so you might have jabbed yourself with a needle a couple times but y’all did what needed to be done

⌕ BAJI

✗ his loud ass

✗ man stay shouting abt something

✗ he was loud as hell bout his homework assignment that he procrastinated doing

✗ and now u gotta be the one to hear bout it

✗ NOT TO MENTION THE TOMAN MEETING HE HAD TO REPORT ON

✗ man was just all over the place

✗ “I don’t even know what to do with all this shit! I’M NOT DOING ALL OF THIS IT’S DUMB”

✗ you just sighed and rolled your eyes

✗ he’s been yelling like this for the past 15 minutes and it was starting to drive you up the wall

✗ “and then I got the fucking toman meeting to- MMPFT!”

✗ you had kissed him cause you couldn’t take it anymore

✗ when you pulled away he was just standing there like 🧍

✗ “what was that for?”

✗ “you wouldn’t shut up what else was I suppose to do?”

✗ the man just smirked

✗ “I should talk more often if that’s how you’re gonna shut me up”

⌕ CHIFUYU

✗ ugh my precious

✗ WHY

✗ why would you do this knowing DAMN well the man would simply factory restart

✗ you could’ve just patted him or shook him to get his attention

✗ BUT naw you gon violate him like this ☹️

✗ he was just stressing over peke j too

✗ the little cat sprained one of his paws and chifuyu was so worried

✗ “is he gonna be ok?”

✗ “yes ‘fuyu peke will be just fine”

✗ “but what if it’s broken, I don’t want him to— MM!”

✗ you kissed him and his eyes widened

✗ when you pulled away you could see the dark red spread across his face

✗ “ ‘fuyu look at peke j he’s ok see”

✗ still red faced, chifuyu turned his head to see the little cat in his bed sleeping

✗ “y-yeah ok, I just want to make sure he’s fine..”

✗ “he is ‘fuyu and if he isn’t we can take him to the vet ok?”

✗ “ok”

✗ “now come here you’ve been stressing too much”

✗ you grabbed him and he rested his head on your chest and you started scratching his undercut

✗ “relax ok”

✗ “okok”

✗ p.s. he was still blushing :(((

⌕ DRAKEN

✗ lord him😭

✗ it’s like the man is made of STONE

✗ there’ll be only a few times that he actually voice things

✗ although it’s very rare cause he doesn’t want to burden you with his problems

✗ but at this moment he couldn’t keep quiet because there’s been a gang tailing toman for a couple weeks and he stressed trying to figure out how to get rid of them

✗ “this shit is frustrating..” Draken sighed, running his hand down his face

✗ he was sitting on his bed with a notepad and a pencil in his wondering what to do about the other gang

✗ “Mikey’s frustrated I’m frustrated these bitches won’t get out of our damn business!”

✗ “Ken hold on you need to take a breather”

✗ he just kept ranting ideas and writing them down

✗ basically he was just in his own little stressful world

✗ “KEN!”

✗ no answer

✗ “we didn’t wanna start a petty fight but they’re in our business!”

✗ “DRAKEN?!”

✗ it’s like the man doesn’t even hear you

✗ “or maybe we could— MMP?!”

✗ you kissed him so hard the pencil flew out of his hand

✗ he looked at you with his eyebrows creased but he was kissing you back

✗ when you pulled away you stood up straight

✗ “are you calm now ken? Can you hear me?”

✗ he nodded, still a little out of it

✗ “why did you kiss me?”

✗ “because I was literally calling and yelling at you and you didn’t hear me”

✗ “oh.. my bad baby this is just stressing me out”

✗ you frowned at the irritated state he was in

✗ “then how about I help you yeah? You knowww,, I do have some good ideas sometimes” you smirked

✗ he just laughed at you and shook his head

✗ “come here” he said

✗ you grinned at him then jumped on his bed

✗ he raised his eyebrow at you while smiling

✗ “so, what’s the plan you got beautiful?”

©2021 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED — MILLIUMIZOOMI. Do not modify, repost, plagiarize, translate or claim any work posted on this blog without my permission.

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[lovely-renard]

hiii, how're u hon? sorry for the late response :(

I was thinking of reading the manga again when it's over so when I read it I'm going to say ahhh that makes sense now

I hate kisaki SO much. I really don't know how I could have helped shin

I DONT UNDERSTAND HOW HE IS WITH MIKEY, MY PROBLEM IS WITH MIKEY LIKE BRO ????? DO YOU HAVE AMNESIA OR SOMETHING? WTF ARE U DOING

not really, seeing all those who are in kanto yes or if it ends in punches 💀

I HOPE SO, sanzu Is a enigma, I would love to see his past

Helloooo love i'm doing fine and you?? Don't be sorry, you can respond anytime :)

I don't know if I'll be able to read it again when it's finished... I'm already in pain i don't want to feel worse lmao

Kisaki got his plan so well prepared i doubt Shin could have do anything about that. Heck Kisaki could even have included him in his schemes 💀

I KNOW, THAT DOESN'T MAKES SENSE i can't wait to see WHY Mikey and Hanma are in the same gang and why Hanma is wearing a mask (just imagine Mikey sliced his mouth....)

I really think that during this battle, we'll see the outcome of the accident with Mikey and a glimpse (or more) of Sanzu's past (fingers crossed)

[hermit-pistol]

conspiracies and confessions (mista x reader)

This is for @honey-pea as the result of the 100 follower raffle! Yes it’s goofy...but I love it so- enjoy!  :>

You never thought that you would ever become a member of a gang, yet here you are. When Bruno Bucciarati asked you, just a common pickpocket, to become a member of Passione, you couldn't believe it. 

"You're joking, right?" 

"Passione is no joke. I think that you would fit in well. While we may have differing backgrounds, I treat my gang like family." 

He wasn't joking about that, once you passed Polpo's test and gained a "stand" of your very own, the other members of the gang welcomed you, surprisingly.

There was Narancia, an energetic young boy, Fugo, a little reserved in nature, Abbacchio, who hated your guts (or so you thought, anyway), and Mista. 

Oh, Mista. 

You probably got along the best with him. You two had the most in common, he was just so easy to talk to! More often than not you would be up until the early hours of the morning giggling about some stupid internet videos or chatting about the latest gossip. 

You would be lying to yourself if you said there were times where you thought of him as more than a friend. But, you didn't want to spoil the good relationship that you already had, although it may have been platonic in nature. 

Until then, you appreciated what you had.

----

It had been a little over a year since you joined Bruno's gang, and you could say that you had really found your home there. Another member had joined as well, going by the name of Giorno Giovanna. He was good, strong both physically and mentally, and was your team's secret weapon as of late. 

Given the nature of the missions from the boss lately, your group had been living in a tiny room inside of a turtle for longer than you would have liked. Between missions, everyone was grumpy and irritable, either camping out on the couches or floor or complaining that there weren't enough drinks in the mini-fridge. 

It also didn't help that Trish Una, the boss' daughter that they were in charge of protecting... was extremely demanding. 

After a couple of weeks of living in the furthest thing from paradise, Bruno decided that it was time for a change. 

"I've booked us a place for a couple of nights." It seemed as if everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief. "It's only fair since we've been working so hard lately." 

"Is there a pool?? I wanna go swimming!" Narancia all but yelled as he stood up from where he was slumped on the couch, excitement shone in his eyes. 

"Did you get a hotel, Bucciarati?" Abbacchio leaned back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head. 

"I didn't, the boss did. He's looked so favorably upon us that we each get our own rooms too." He raised his eyebrows, which could barely be seen behind his bangs. "Pretty neat, huh?" 

"It's about time that we got some reward for our hard work!" Mista pumped his fist into the air. Sex Pistols cheered as well, probably at the thought of all the gourmet food that they were about to eat. 

"When do we get to go?" You asked, never looking up from your book. You had started it that morning. 

"Tonight, actually. Be ready to check-in in about an hour or so." You could hear a loud 'YAY' from under Mista's hat. How cute! 

---

Within the next hour, you were laying on a plush hotel bed, continuing your reading. Bruno, Giorno, Trish, and Abbacchio were relaxing in their own rooms, but you distinctly remember Narancia saying that he was going to drag Mista and Fugo into the swimming pool. He had also asked you to go, but at that time you had found that you preferred the quiet company of a book compared to screaming children (Narancia included) at a public pool. 

It was about the paranormal, one of your favorite subjects. Nothing beats reading about creepy facts in a hotel room in the early evening, right? Your mind was racing when you heard a knock on the door. 

Throwing your book on the bed, you padded along the plush carpeting to the doorway, looking outside the peephole. It was Mista, looking around. A big smile crept onto your features as you undid the deadbolt. "Helloooo~ welcome to my crib." You giggled at your stupidity. 

Thankfully, Mista appreciated your goofy sense of humor. "You dork, if you're gonna talk to me like that for the rest of the night I should probably leave." He said in a serious tone, obviously joking. 

"Yeah, be my guest." You settled back into your comfy spot in the middle of the bed. "I thought that you were going to be at the pool with the other guys?" 

"Eh, I told them that I would join them in a little bit. The Pistols wouldn't stop complaining about wanting to see you, though." He took off his hat momentarily to let out his mischievous stand. They circled around you chanting your name. "We've missed you!" they spoke in unison. 

"I saw you all yesterday. Talk about clingy." You giggled. "I've just been reading." 

"Ooh what about?" Mista asked as he sat down on the bed next to you. You always loved when he was interested in your hobbies.

"It's about creepy stuff. Did you know that if you wake up in the middle of the night it could be because your body senses someone was staring at you?" 

"I did not, but that's absolutely terrifying." He let out a nervous laugh. "Uh...now that the adrenaline is kicking in we should read it together. I didn't need sleep tonight anyways." 

"Good idea." You opened the book, with the Sex Pistols nestling themselves in between the two of you. 

After reading for about 30 minutes or so, Mista pointed out one interesting fact himself. He was so close to you, and you hoped that he didn't hear your racing heart. 

"It says that to avoid the influences of mind control, you should craft a hat out of...tinfoil?" Pffft. "Y/N I know what we have to do now." 

"Oh yeah? Where are we gonna get it? I most certainly don't have any tinfoil on me..." 

"Abbacchio. He has to have some. He does all sorts of crazy shit to his hair." You shrugged your shoulders. You decided to let him take responsibility as the two of you left your room to make the short walk down the hall. 

One embarrassing encounter later, you had learned that Abbacchio did not have your 'fucking stupid tinfoil' and proceeded to cuss you out accordingly.

Luckily, the little convenience store down the road carried some. You picked up a pair of scissors as well, and were soon walking back to the hotel laughing about what was to come. 

"Okay Pistols, do you guys want hats too?" Mista asked once the two of you had returned to the room. They all squealed with joy. Well, there was your answer. 

You un-boxed the scissors and started cutting the first strip of the foil. It made such a satisfying sound. 

You started with 6 small strips for each of the pistols. Once they were cut, you formed the easily-malleable substance into small cones. 

"C'mere guys." You placed each one on their heads, which fit perfectly. Next you set to work making two larger ones for Mista and yourself. 

"Mista look at me!" Number 7 floated around the comforter.

"MEEESTA! Number 3 ripped my hat!" Number 5 cried as he sat on your shoulder. The thought of knowing that he wouldn't be susceptible to mind control comforted him even though his hat was’t in the best condition.

You stopped your work and examined his hat. "Number 5, it looks fine to me. Big Brother won't pierce your brain waves today. Dry those tears." 

"O-okay." He sniffled. By this point you had finished the hats. You and Mista decided to take pictures of each other to see how ridiculous you looked. 

"I look like a pointy toe." You laughed out loud as you walked to the bathroom mirror. "Let's take a picture together!" 

"Alright." He was at your side, and just before you took the picture he decided to sling an arm around you. In the moment you jumped, therefore ruining the picture. "Lemme see! You gotta send this to me." 

You looked at the result of your stupidity: a blurry picture produced by shaky hand syndrome. "Uh, let's take another one." You readied your camera, determined to make memories. 

This time when Mista put his arm around you you didn't even flinch. It felt...natural. 

The two of you were having a good time until the power went out. You could barely see your hand in front of your face, and the Pistols started screaming. "M-mista!" You could hear the whimpers of Number 5 from the other room. 

"I'm coming guys!" Mista called. "Y/N gimme your hand." You reached around the bathroom blindly, and instead made contact with his exposed midriff. Oops. 

"Sorry, sorry!" You could hear the humility in your voice as you trailed your touch over his arm to eventually reach his hand. It felt quite warm. Yours were just clammy from being a nervous wreck. 

Soon all of you were huddled together on the bed again, using cell phones for lighting. "A hotel having a power outage..seems a little strange, don't you think?" You asked. 

"Is this our next conspiracy?" Mista smirked. You still couldn't take him seriously with his tinfoil hat on. 

"Yes, Mista. The conspiracy of the idiot in the hotel room. How spooky." Your heart stopped when you heard the scratching on the door. 

"W-what was that."

"You're asking me?" Through the dim phone screen lights, you could see a worried expression cross his handsome features. "I guess that means that we have to check it out." 

"We? This is all you buddy." You gave him a playful shove, although the tone present in your voice was anything but. 

Mista got up and straightened out his outfit. He walked up to the peephole on shaky legs. "There's..no one here." He breathed a sigh of relief. 

"That's weird." You relaxed a little, the Pistols curling up in your arms, tinfoil hats scratching you.

That's when the thumping started. 

Mista was still at the door terrified. "Come here!" You mouthed, and he wasted no time in sprinting back to the bed. "Mista, I'm kind of freaked out." 

"It's okay, I am too." He opened his arms, inviting you in. You fell into them without a second thought. The Pistols joined in as well, and soon all of you were a giant ball of cuddling and crinkled tinfoil. 

You felt his heart race as you pressed your ear against his chest. You figured that since you might not get another opportunity like this you might as well confess your blossoming feelings. 

"Mista I have something to say..." His dark eyes bore into yours. 

"Sure, what's up?" The thumps were growing louder and more frequent now. 

"I really enjoy spending time with you, and you've really helped me find my place in Passione. You're definitely the member that I've grown closest to and I appreciate that, but over the past year, I've realized that maybe..." You tightened your grip on his torso.

"Maybe what? That you have romantic feelings?" 

You were shocked. "Well, you took the words right out of my mouth." The Pistols let out a collective 'oooh'. You could have sworn that you heard a distinct, 'Mista has a girlfriend~' taunt coming from one of them...probably Number 3.

The thumping was so loud at this point, you let out a scream holding onto Mista for dear life. It seemed as if the door were about to fall off of its hinges. The door eventually swung open violently. With the intensity that it had made contact with the wall you could tell that the flimsy hotel drywall was cracked. 

The lighting provided by the emergency exit signs brought out the outline of a figure, with a flowing garb and...ears? 

Thoughts were racing through your head. You whispered over to Mista, watching the figure carefully, "I think I know what that is, I read about it in my book earlier. Page 343. It's a catboy." 

"A catboy?! What...I thought those were only-" 

"A cryptid? A figment of the imagination? Me too, but we are not your average goons. We are prepared," Your eyes looked up, indicating to your hats, "I think we should rush him. The book says that they're not that violent." 

"I'm following you on this one Y/N." He was too scared to look at the figure standing in the doorway. It was surprising that it hadn't yet made a move. 

"Okay, 3.." 

"2.."

"1.. CHARGE!" Mista leapt off of the bed and ran up to the creature, tackling him to the floor, his tinfoil hat flying off.

"TAKE THAT CATBOY!" You screamed as the two wrestled on the ground, and as if on cue the lights turned back on. 

"Get off of me!" The figure turned out to be Giorno Giovanna, wearing a robe and hair curlers. "Why are you attacking me Mista, why are all of you wearing those ridiculous hats, and most importantly why am I a catboy?" You could sense the anger in his voice, which was very uncharacteristic of him since he was usually so level-headed. 

"I-" you started, taking off your hat and shamefully placing it on the bed. "We were just having a little bit of fun. Then the power turned off and we got paranoid. I'm sorry Giorno." 

"I noticed the power went out so I went to check on everyone else, I did not expect to have you lock me out of your room and then be tackled to the floor." Giorno adjusted one of his rollers that had fallen out of place due to the beatdown. 

"Sorry man, let's talk about it tomorrow morning? When emotions aren't getting in the way." Mista gave a goofy grin, and Giorno rolled his eyes in response and bid them a barely audible 'good night' as he walked down the hallway. 

Once again, it was just you, Mista, and the Pistols. At least the lights were back on again. "You're gonna have to explain that catboy thing to him later, he seemed very disturbed." 

"Will do, but back to earlier-" He sat back down on the bed with you, grabbing your hand softly. "Did you really mean all those things you said?" 

"I really did, there's no one else that I would rather be an idiot with, idiot." You laughed and placed your discarded tinfoil hat onto his head. 

The Pistols cheered, with Number 5 shedding a few tears in the process, "Man, I just love a happy ending." 

"I think that a sleepover is in order?" You playfully nudged him. 

"Count me in."

[spine-rat]

Helloooo ~ can I request a Kierthur headcanons ? Sfw or nsfw I let you decide but like, not angsty headcanon 🥺

of course you can!! i adore kierthur🥺

i hope these are okay!

•they share a tent, which dutch didn’t really like at first, but if arthur gets home particularly late one night, it always makes him feel better and a lot more relaxed for him to come back to a sleeping kieran, he’s a dumb himbo in love

•kieran can’t read (or write) so if they have a few hours to themselves, they sit by a tree in the outskirts of camp together, kieran’s head against arthur’s shoulder as arthur reads to him - his favourites are books about horses of course

•after the gelding tongs incident arthur beat bill the hell up to the point mans was black and blue for kieran, and kieran was kind of terrified at first but he was grateful that arthur stuck up for him!!!

•they don’t often spend too many nights together, arthur is busy a lot of the time and spends days on ends out of camp, but the odd nights they do spend together, kieran lays with his head on arthur’s chest, listening to his partners heartbeat as the two of them talk about things - nothing important, just whatever comes to their minds

•arthur draws horses for kieran:)

if kieran has had a particularly bad day (people at camp poking fun at him, etc) arthur will draw pictures of branwen, or random herds of horses he saw on his journeys - kieran keeps them all in his saddle bag, he looks at them when he misses him

•kieran teaches arthur horse care - nothing too detailed, but a lot more in depth than the basics and how to be a better fisherman, and in turn arthur teaches kieran how to hunt properly, or how to properly shoot a gun, since kieran tends to freeze up a lot and panic

•arthur isn’t really the type for pda, but if he’s tired or if he’s had a stressful day, he will come up to kieran and hug him randomly from behind and press his face into his shoulder - even if kieran is sat by the campfire with other gang members. he likes seeing kieran embarrassed and flustered, but he also like seeing the grin on kieran’s face as he slowly melts into the touch, placing his hands on top of arthur’s and leaning back into his touch

•kierans hands are tiny compared to arthur’s!! if they’re sat down together, having a smoke or a drink, kieran likes to hold arthur’s hands up and press their palms together to measure them before telling arthur how perfectly their hands fit together and how if his hands are cold arthur’s always seem to warm them

[a-pretty-nerd]

RoadTrip!!! (Poly!Bowers Gang x reader smut)

Request: "Helloooo ! ❤️ Happy new year first ! I’m coming to ask you if you can do a request for me. Like you’re the bowers gang girl (something like this), and you’re having a road trip in the Trans AM with all of them, going in motels because you don’t have that much money, and having a lot of fun with them. Listening to lound metal songs ect while they’re driving fast on the 66 road ! This is cliche but I love this idea so much!" ~ @derrynews

I'm on it 🤘❤

A/N: So we're back n biz and I am so happy you guys have been making requests and telling me what you guys want, especially when I don’t give exactly what you were looking for, or you want more. I really do appreciate and love the feedback, it means a lot. Ya'll are the best! 💕

Taglist: @marvelismylifffe

Warnings: cursing, mild violence, spicy smut, its the bowers gang. Why are you looking at the warnings? Are you new?

Music Reccomendations:

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Summer kicked off with a bang and the celebration of graduation started way too early. So early, that SOMEONE barley managed to pass their senior year. But that was no surprise, and Henry didn't seem to really care whether or not he got that diploma.

But no one was thinking about that now. High school was behind you and the world was your oyster! And what was a better way to celebrate than a good old fashion vacation? Really, it was Reggie's idea. It was a drunken idea he spouted out around a bonfire. He didn't expect anyone to actually hear it.

"Fuck yeah! Lets go on a roadtrip!" Henry shouted, also drunk, crushing his beer can and tossing it into the fire.

"I'm so down!" You shouted, buzzed and hanging onto Patrick.

"Roadtrip! Roadtrip! Roadtrip!" They cheered, and gradually it became a chant until Vic drunkenly fell into the fire and you had to rush to fish him out. He was fine. No real burns, jusr scrapes a bruses. But all of sudden, the idea of a roadtrip had been cemented in your minds and you had to! So the day after graduation, you and your four boys piled your horribly packed bags into the trunk of Reggie's Trans Am, and headed for California. The ideal summer vacation spot.

Here is what unfolded on the long drive down Route 66 for those three days:

Day 1:

You started by sitting in the middle back seat, the traditional placement or Patrick to you right and Vic to your left. Reggie driving, and Henry in his thrown of the passanger seat.

That meant Henry was in charge of music, just loud blaring guitar and drums while a 20 something white boy screamed at the top of his lungs.

Within 20mins, Vic had to pee.

Henry yelled at him, and threw an empty water bottle at him.

That is generally how bathroom breaks were delt with. The boys could pee in a bottle...you...could not.

Sometimes the boys forgot that you weren't exactly like them. I mean, they knew you anatomy pretty damn well but, you get my point.

The majority of the first day was pulling over for bathroom breaks and much needed snacks. And also for a pack of smokes. Henry smoked like a chimney and was out within the first day.

Conversation was fun, funny, light hearted.

You stopped at a motel in the middle of absolutely knowhere.

Someone had definitely been murdered in your room.

That didn't stop the boys. A full on orgy insued.

Day 2:

You missed the continental breakfast ( not much loss) but point is you all got a late start despite Reggie pushing ya'll to get up.

Henry was the last to get up. Patrick thought it would be funny to give him and rude awakening. He stood on the bed and jumped until Henry woke up, screaming and demanding him to stop.

You were late to check out. That was...expected.

Late start, means annoyed Reggie, and annoyed Reggie means passive aggressive Reggie. And Passive aggressive Reggie means upset Henry. Upset Henry means poking, prodding Patrick. Prodding Patrick means furious Henry. Furious Henry means sad Vic. Sad vic means, sad and upset EVERYONE.

You sat in the front and picked the music and dictated when and where you made stops.

Generally that day was silent and uneventful.

Until you pulled over and Patrick decided he needed a quickie in the Gas station bathroom. Which means thats all the boys wanted a quickie.

One at a time.

By the end of day two, you made it halfway through. You stopped at a collection of motels and shopping malls on the side of road. Clearly geared towards tourists. Kansas didn't have much to offer.

Day 3:

Everyone was up bright and early the next day. Bright is an understatement. No one was happy to be awake. So for the first few hours of driving you snuggled up with Vic and Henry and slept in the back seat.

Up until you heard Patrick in a low monotone voice say, "I don't think we're in Kansas anymore, bitches."

Reggie just looked at him, and laughed after an awkward amount of silence.

You stopped in Arizona to take a picture at the Grand Canyon.

No one else but you and Reggie seemed to care about taking pictures on your little disposable cameras.

At this point, you had heard all the rock music everyone had brought on their CDs and Cassette tapes. So you were at the mercy of the radio, which sucked.

You drove for a while in silence until Patrick got bored and turned it back on.

"Wow! Look at that sunset!" Vic shouted as he stared out the window. Indeed, the sky was gorgeous. You didn't get sunsents like that up in Maine.

"Welcome to California! We made it, guys!" Reggie delcared that night.

You still hadn't reached your destination until late, late that night.

A shitty, falling apart Motel just along the shitty California waters.

You're pretty sure you heard someone get murdered in the room next to you.

"Are you sure he's not just murdering that pussy?" Patrick asked, half joking, half serious.

No one got laid that night. Especially not Patrick.

Beach Day

Thats all you did, all day. Just, the warm sand, the warm sun, and waves crashing down. It was a dream.

You body surfed with Henry and Belch. You suntanned with Vic, and collected seas shells with Patrick.

"Wheres Patrick?"

"He was supposed to get us soda." You found him in the topless section. (Look, Patricks not gonna cheat on ya'll, he's just window shopping. You can't really blame him, you people watch with him for a bit before dragging him away.)

Everyone got sunburned. It was hell.

"Is Henry still in the water?"

"Last I saw." Off in the distance, a small dot reached an arm out and waved as it drifted further and further into the ocean.

"HENRY!"

All in all, your trip was fun. You spent a day at the beach, you got super sunburned, you guys got drunk in your hotel room and played poker. That was fun. Henry lost. You spent some quality with just your little, fucked up, family. Then you remembered you would have to take three more days to get back home.

[theateared]

You’re One Hell of a Guy. ❜

Summary:  But deep inside, you and I are still the same kids.

      Going to Murr’s house was something he barely had time for, but he refused to leave him hanging.  Though the times that he could stop by properly were few and far between, he’d become adamant on at least trying to make them happen.

                                Murr is, after all, my best friend.  I want to see him.

       As he took a swig of his coffee  ( Murr hated the stuff but kept some in his cupboard specifically for when he visited ),  Kuro leaned on the table, cheek cradled in his hand.  The early hours were always the best time for him to visit,  the time he was the least likely to be pulled away.  Over time, Murr had grown less frustrated with him.  He’d realised that it wasn’t his fault when he was called to action.  He was yanked away from everybody equally--  even his beloved wife suffered for it.

      “I’m glad ya could come,”   Murr admitted, sitting at the table with a cup of hot chocolate between his hands.   “I was feelin’ kinda lonely.  Feels like ya’ve been a little MIA recently.”

       "Just work,”   Kuro replied with a heavy sigh, trying to will the recurring ache in his forehead away.  The last thing he wanted was for the little time he did have with his friend to be plagued by the dull thrum of an oncoming migraine.  Gently does it.  Pushing hard only makes it stick more.   “Real fucked up case.  Some kinda gang activity in Vidé.  At first we thought it was just some kids fuckin’ around but it turns out they have some real dons runnin’ the show.  Shit’s a little more serious now.”

       Murr sniffed derisively.   "Yeesh.  Sounds like a fuckin’ party.”

       "Psh, yer invited if y’feel left out.”

       “No thanks, pal.  I like havin’ my organs in my body?  Ya know--  where they belong?"

       Kuro couldn’t help but snicker at the facetious remark.  The knowledge that most Huros had on gang activity was incredibly basic, based almost solely on fiction.  It was all "buying hearts” and “selling drugs”, boisterous street rats and crime lords that struck and then vanished like ghosts.  From a place so peaceful, most had no clue about the horrors that occurred outside of their cosy borders.  Sadly, it was Huron that was the exception, not the districts that were chock-full of violence.

       The topic of his most recent play came up, and he watched as Murr became excitable, one leg crossing over his lap as his hands began to join the conversation.  He’d always been the type to talk with his body too.  Somewhere along the way, Kuro found himself zoning out.  Something disconcerting had been on his mind lately.  Though he’d never stray from his wife,  he’d been thinking a lot about Murr lately.  Innocently, almost in passing, but frequently nonetheless.  The things he never said to his friend were beginning to irritate him, like a rash that wouldn’t go away, and an alien pang of longing arose whenever they shared space like this.  You’re just so easy to be around now that I’ve allowed myself to be.  I feel regret every day now for the way that I treated you.  Maybe if I hadn’t been so one-dimensional, I wouldn’t be feeling the way I do now--

       “Helloooo?  Huron t’Sheriff?”   He refocused to see Murr leaning over the table, waving a hand almost desperately in his face.  Despite this, his expression was full of mirth.   ❛❛ Damn!  If ya really think my ideas are that borin’ ya can just say so! ❜❜

       ❛❛ No, it ain’t that.  It’s just…  I’m thinkin’ again. ❜❜

       His eyes closed as he felt Murr flick his forehead.   “Well don’t.  Ya get sad when ya think too much.  I don’t wanna have ta tell yer wife that I made ya cry, again, so ya’d better stop bein’ a dumbass.”

       “Yeah yeah…  I get it.”   Maybe I don’t.  Maybe we should finally talk about this.  I have some conflicting feelings about you.  It’s making me feel like a bad husband.  A bad person, even.   "Actually...”   For some reason, he felt unbearably nervous all of a sudden, heart speeding up as he thought about how best to pose the question.  Eventually, he settled on an inoffensive:   "Can we talk?”   He watched Murr’s face fall based on his body language, waving a hand at him quickly.    “It’s nothin’ bad.  I don’t think.  It’s just…  somethin’ I’ve been thinkin’ about lately.  I feel like I should be honest with y’.”

       "Okay...”   Murr tugged at his collar briefly, as if to get air beneath it.   "Yeesh...  way t’make a guy nervous.”

       Kuro couldn’t help but chuckle, fingers drumming soundlessly against the pot of his mug.  He wasn’t entirely sure why the idea of saying something about this was filling him with so much apprehension.  It wasn’t like anything was going to come of it.  Not only was he happily married, he was almost certain that Murr wouldn’t be able to live with him after the things he’d done.  Forgiven he may have been, but it didn’t mean that the pain has miraculously been undone.  He’d still prompted Murr to almost take his life;  had still put his parents--  his second family-- through the terrible strain of thinking they were going to lose their son;  had still treated him with aggravated fury every time he’d tried to come back into his life despite having no right to.  In truth, it wasn’t a matter of whether he was truly bisexual or not--  it was that Murr was too good for him.

       ❛❛ … when we were kids…  y’know, befer everythin’ went t’shit, I sorta-- ❜❜   He caught himself then.  He almost wanted to laugh at his feeble attempt to utter an age-old confession.  It was as if he was 140 all over again, flushed and stammering through a halfhearted ‘’I like you!’’.  It was this thought that made him feel better, a tiny sliver of a smile forming on his face as he finished with a blunt:   ❛❛ I had a crush on you.  A pretty big one. ❜❜

       ❛❛ Aheh…  this’s a joke, right? ❜❜

       ❛❛ No. ❜❜

       He watched his friend’s body language closely.  On occasion, his face revealed itself to him too, but now was not one of those times.  He suddenly became very closed, as if trying to fold himself into a small cube and slot himself somewhere safe from his gaze.  The quiet lingered like a cloud, uncomfortable silence stretching between them like wire, and in his head Kuro could hear the same phrase repeating over and over:  please say something, please say something, please say something, plea--

       ❛❛ Oh.  Pfft.  Me too! ❜❜

       He all but gawked at how easy it was for Murr to say such a thing.  Though he knew that Murr had never been the type to act apologetically, there were some things the man treated with an air of secrecy.  His sexuality, for whatever reason, was one of them.  It wasn’t as if Huron was rich with homophobia;  he just didn’t seem to like labels like a lot of other people did.  For that reason, despite being his best friend, Kuro still wasn’t quite sure where on the spectrum Murr sits.  It didn’t matter, wouldn’t affect their relationship any in the slightest, but he was curious.  He’d almost been curious about his own leaning lately.  Had he not withdrawn from Murr during his tens, could they maybe have forged some sort of romance together?  There were certainly feelings involved, and now that he knew they were requited he had to wonder if either of them would have been bold enough to say something at some point.  It was this constant lack of knowledge that was turning his brain to mush.  The relationship he consciously desired with Murr was nothing more than a friendship, but his subconscious seemed to have other things in mind.

       For some reason, he felt a dull form of elation that caused his pulse to flutter.  It wasn’t as if he was still in love--  he never would have burdened a woman with a ring if he was--  but having Murr back in his life again, so close and personal after years of sombre silence, raised some primitive questions in his gut.  Could we have been together?  Could that ring have been yours, or would college have split us apart in a different way?  Would we not have aged well and not remained friends at all?  Did I need to lose you to be close with you again later?  What would have become of us?  Do I strictly like women?  Or was my attraction to you a one-off thing based on friendship?  What do I like?

       "Really?”

       "Well duh,”  Murr chirped airily, hopping up from his seat and beginning to rinse his mug clean.   “We spent all our time together!  And even back then, you were all stoic ‘n’ weird--  I was drawn t’that like a magnet.  It was interestin’.  You were different from the other kids.  So was I.  It made sense ta me.  Us against the world kinda thing, ya know?”  There was a pause as he set his cup down on the drying rack, eyes glued to one drop of water running slowly along the handle until it fell and met the drain below.  In a way, it reminded him of what he thought college would be like:  as if he’d be lowered from his awkward tenner suspension and be reunited with souls that his could understand.  After a moment of thought, he picked it back up, leaving it in his lap to fiddle with.   “… maybe that was why it hurt me so much when ya wouldn’t answer my calls or hang out with me much.  Maybe I was a little homesick.”

       "Homesick?”

       "Yeah.  You were my home, Kuro.  No two ways about it.”

       He should have learned by now to not grow stunned by Murr’s poetic brevity, but he’d always been partial to a heartfelt yet conveniently short verse.  You’re one hell of a guy, Murr.

      “... ‘n’ now?”

     There was a pregnant pause, one that latched onto his insecurities and fed much like a parasite would.  For some reason or another, a heavy sense of dread opened up inside of him, that familiar black hole sucking the life out of everything around him as it so often did.  Then, all at once, Murr released the tension in his shoulders with a shrug.

     “Nothin’s changed about that, bud.”   He moved then, perching on the counter much like a child would, long legs kicking gently.   “... are we good?  Why’d ya feel the need t’bring that up?  It ain’t like we’re the same people.”   His vision wasn’t impaired the same way Kuro’s was;  he could see his face clearly, knew the creases of worry in his brow almost as well as he knew his own hands.

     “I worry that you are the same person,”   he replied quietly, almost as if he’d been holding his breath prior to admitting it.   “‘n’ sometimes I worry that I am too.”

     The air fell still, both men cloaked in silence, and only when Kuro felt something wet on his face did he look up.  Murr’s face was clear  -  and it was pissed.  The empty cup in his hand sat tilted in the Sheriff’s direction, telling him plainly that he’d filled it and then flung it at him as if he’d desperately needed a bath.  Kuro wasn’t one to flinch often, but the scorn in his dearest friend’s eyes shook him to the core.

     “Ya keep sayin’ stupid shit like that, yer gonna flood my house,”   he said through clenched teeth.  There was no way in hell that he could tell the other man why he was so angry.  It would ruin everything he’d worked so hard to piece back together.   “If ya think I’m selfish enough t’split you ‘n’ yer wife up fer some dumb childhood crush then think again.”   The words hurt to say, an all-too-familiar pain blossoming in his chest like a thorn-covered rose, but he knew it was the right thing to do.  If he was ever to tell Kuro that he felt similarly--  that their convoluted history kept him awake at night, that he still fantasised about holding his hand sometimes, that he tossed and turned some nights, unable to sleep, because all he could think about was the what if that had steadily consumed his life--  he knew that they could both be led down a very dark road.  He didn’t believe in cheating, and he certainly didn’t believe in homewrecking.  He also didn’t believe in Kuro’s self-esteem enough to think that he would be above doing either if he was to open the door for him.  I’m saying this for you.  Maybe you don’t realise it now but you will in time.     “We’re not like that.  It doesn’t matter how it was when we were kids.  We’re not kids anymore.  You left.”   He internally cursed the bitterness in his voice at that, cursed the slight stiffen of Kuro’s shoulders even more.  He continued before he could lose his nerve--  before he could truly do something stupid.   “... and that’s just it, Kuro.”  He forced himself to smile, though the expression looked crestfallen at best.   “You’ve got somethin’ good now.  So don’t throw it all away for a couple’a stupid kids that don’t even exist anymore, alright?”

     Kuro stared at him a moment longer before averting his gaze completely.  When he tried to catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of his eye, he found that his face was blank once again.  The static spiralled tauntingly ahead of him, the dreary squiggles ruining the clear picture he’d set his sights on just moments ago.  Even your anger is better than the static.  A large hand raised to wipe at his face, ridding it of the damp as best he could before he rose from his chair.

     “Alright,”   he said with a grunt, his usual monotone drawl returning with a vengeance.  Murr’s right.  Things are different now.  Living in the past will only fuck up the present  -  and there’s a lot to fuck up now that I’m married.  His coat was shrugged on, hands slid into his pockets.   “... thanks fer the wake-up call.  Yer right.”

     “Of course I am.”   He smiled wider despite the words twisting in his heart like a knife.  It’s selfish, but I want you to stay.   “Ya should go now.  Yer wife’s gonna be askin’ where ya are again.”

     A humourless laugh escaped the other man, head bobbing once in acknowledgement before he turned around and headed to the exit.   “Remember t’mop yer floor by the way.  Asshole.”   The front door clicked shut behind him.  It was quiet, but it echoed with an agonising finality in Murr’s head as the smile faded.

     What was that?  Was he trying to approach the topic of a relationship with me?  Or did I make that up?  Gah…  it doesn’t matter.  He’s gone.  Like he’s always been.

     He hated himself for the weakness that welled up in his eyes, hot and shameful as he tried desperately to keep himself from falling to pieces.  It doesn’t take much these days.  I used to be so much more durable.  Now I’m all sensitive and lost.  A palm dug stubbornly into one of his eyes, ridding it of tears, before he followed suit with the other.  He didn’t feel much better with them dry, but he knew that he at least looked the part now.  He hopped down from the counter, grabbing the mop from inside the utility cupboard, beginning to clean, the wet sound of water spreading across a surface filling his ears like white noise.  He welcomed it, zoned out altogether, and by the time he stopped mopping, half an hour had flown by.

     A vacant feeling had always been there since college, but it ebbed and flowed, came and went in waves, and it often left him stranded in a dangerous spot between ‘okay’ and ‘absolutely falling apart’.  It was an emptiness he couldn’t quite explain;  oxymoronic in that it was so void and yet so full, as if his head was closer to imploding with every second longer that it chose to reside inside of him.  His heart felt like a rock, his brain a grenade.  If only I could reach inside myself and pull the pin.  I want to pull the pin.  I have for a while.

     When he put the mop back in its place, he thought only momentarily before stepping inside the cupboard himself, closing the door behind him.  If I put myself away like a broom or a bottle of bleach, will people forget I exist until they need me again?  What if I’m never needed again?  Will I stay undiscovered in this closet until I die?  The smell of chemicals and damp immediately rose to his attention, though it was a welcome distraction.  His head met the closed door gently, eyes opening despite not being able to see anything.  It was an accurate depiction of the void inside of him;  that inky blackness that covered everything in a thick layer of nothing, as if all it touched simply ceased to exist

     I don’t feel real.  I can’t see.  I can’t touch.  Even the smell is beginning to fade away.  I’m just an empty vessel in an empty space.  A cat in a box that is both dead and alive at the same time.  Tired bones rather than tired eyes.

     At some point, he felt himself slip to the floor, content to remain in the dismal darkness a while longer.  He hated that the only thing he could think of was him.  Sitting there alone in the dark, wondering if he’d just ruined his one chance at true happiness, he felt both horribly and wonderfully alone.

[5am-the-foxing-hour]

Steady as Quicksilver

Well, The idea did not seem be done, so therefore i am doing more for this AU.

Decided to call it There's More In A Mine Than Precious Metals and not sure how well i will keep to making them stay in chronological order, or they just stay messy from the start.

Anyway, this is part 2 of the maffia ish au, Frail as Brass is part one.

- - -

Characters: Deceit, Remus, Roman, Virgil. Thomas, Logan and Patton are mentioned.

Deceit is named Sham

Warnings: curses, other than that, nothing to bad i think... If you want me to write a warning i’ve missed tho, don’t hesitate to tell me. General Fanfic Tag list: @ebony-wolf​, @nashiraneko​,  @secretlyanxiouspersona, @i-sold-my-soul-to-thefandom​, @rabbitsartcorner​,@punsterterry​,  @sleepyssnail​,  @nightmaresides​, @virgilswritings​, @ninja-girl2846​, @ninjago2020, @starryfirefliesbloggo​, @garecc​,  @sympatheticdeceit​, @cookiethedevil​, @askthesnake​,  @all-bridges-will-burn​, @tacohippy56900,

- - -

Remus sent a look back to Sham who was sleeping again, the man looked even smaller in the hospital bed, and Remus felt anger grow inside of him, he would make the people who hurt his Snakey pay.

Remus returned his attention to the officers who were outside, the door locked behind him as he entered the hall of the hospital with them.

It was late and not many were active at this time, and they had also gotten a less crowded part of the hospital just for this as well.

Roman huffed as he crossed his arms. Stronger looking than Remus’s scrawniness, even if Remus had surpassed his height with a few centimeters. Apart from the clear differences in body type and the fact that Remus had a moustache, were they pretty similar. Remus fiddled absentmindedly with the handcuffs as he let his eyes fall over to the second officer, one who made him grin.

Virgil stood there, hands showed deep in his pockets and a glare in his eyes, despite the clear anxious ticks he was displaying, Remus knew how to read him, Remus gave away a chuckle

  “Helloooo! Emo!” Remus said giggling as he spread his arms wide moving in for a hug only to grunt when he got a hand showed into his face.

  “Hell no! I am not hugging you!” Virgil snapped. Remus pouted as he moved back holding his face.

Roman paled and Virgil blinked as he stared at the handcuff that now hung around only one of Remus’s wrists.

  “How?!” Both barked making Remus blink “Put the handcuffs back on you maniac!”

  “Oh! Sorry.” Remus said with a grin holding out his hands to Roman who quickly redid the cuffs. “Habit~”

  “How often would someone get handcuffed to be able to get out of them without a key?” Virgil grumbled. Remus bent forward until he was face to face with Virgil smirking.

  “Wouldn’t you like to know~” he snickered as he winked making Virgil flush bright red.

  “S-shut up!”

Remus only laughed in return before he leaned back against the wall, hands resting before him.

  “Sooooooo... i believe there will be boring talk talk now.”

  “I- yes.” Roman said clearing his throat. “As much as the higher ups want you and Sham behind bars, they believe you two are the key to stopping the whole gang wars... And with what has transpired, and the fact that you didn’t put up a fight when we arrested you two... makes them hope you will be to our assistance.” Roman said, sounding bored by what he said, but knowing it had to be said. Remus twitched, snapping his head to the side, a ice cold smirk and look crossed over his face, making Virgil flinch back on reflex.

  “I’ll help~” Remus purred in a ice cold tone “As long as i get to put the ones responsible in the grave.” Remus growled, ice in his glare, before he grinned all sharp teeth. Roman straighten up in at the sudden intimidation feeling a shiver slither up his spine. Roman sent a quick glance to Virgil to find how the younger man was pale as a ghost and looked ready to pass out.

  “NOW!” Remus suddenly cheered, clapping his hands, making the two officers flinch at the loudness and the suddenness Remus did in behaviour and expression. “If there’s nothing more to be said~ I would love to be returned to Snakey’s side.” with that he bowed and grinned up at them.

Roman swallowed before he fumbled with the keys.

  “Right.” he said as he unlocked the door, letting Remus back inside.

Roman watched as his twin sauntered inside like a generic puppy to Shams’s side, the other having awoken for a moment, and they talked for a moment. Deceit snapping something that made Remus pout and dejectedly slunk to the chair that was pretty much his at this point.

Sham turned his head and met Roman’s eyes, Roman saluted at the other, before he closed the door. Locking it once again.

- -

Roman moved along the corridor, Virgil at his side, they had changed posts, and now two new officers stood outside the door.

  “So... we’re really working with them then...” Virgil mumbled eyes locked to the checkered tile floor.

  “Yep..” Roman said popping the P looking very tired.

  “It’s a terrible idea-”

  “Oh yes.”

  “They could hack us or stab us in the back-”

  “Most likely.”

  “Or BOTH!” Virgil threw his hands out before him. “This will only end in flames and chaos, Remus is not stable, has never been stable, sure Sham is a bit of his impulse control, but...”

  “You’re worried about how badly the explosion messed him up.”

  “I- no! Of course not!”

  “Virgil... we know. You don’t have to hide it.” Roman said, Virgil looked away shoving his hands into his pockets again.

  “I shouldn’t care about them, I’m not part of their gang anymore.”

  “Doesn’t stop the feelings from coming anyway you know. I would know, Remus is my twin after all.” Roman said with a laugh

  “How do you handle it?” Roman’s laugh died down and he had a sad frown on his face.

  “I have no idea, hope each time they talk about the gangs on the news that my brother was the cause and not the casualty? I’m not going to lie... it’s fucking hard.”

  “Yeah...”

They continued in silence, leaving the hospital behind to go to the headquarters for a briefing. Thomas and the others needed to know the way things was transpiring and that the Duke would help them put an end to the gang wars... to an extent.

Roman shivered, not being able to get Remus’s ice cold expression out of his head. He had never seen his twin that murderous yet still solid before.

It was unnerving.

[rubystained]

oh, her? yeah, that’s mariana ‘mari’ reyes. people are always talkin’ about how reliable & clever they are, but i think they can be blunt & guarded. guess that’s why they’re known around rosewick as “ the bombshell. ” she’s a twenty one year old anarchy leader + waitress at el rey, and you can catch her over on the north and south side. rumour has it was recruited into anarchy after she murdered her abusive junkie ex boyfriend in cold blood. 

helloooo, everyone !! i’m cami and this here is my lovely devil reincarnated mariana ! we’re og to hometown aka returning !! except mari’s fc used to be cierra but now i’m trying sofi out with her bc resources y’know <33 anywhooo if you’d like to plot with the devil herself, give this a like and we’ll come to you !!

her pinterest can be found here !! y’know, for the visuals ;) sorry it’s messy tho

mariana mercedes reyes was born and raised in rosewick on april 18th, making her an aries. the second born daughter of the reyes family. she was named after her paternal grandmother. was, is and always has been the biggest daddy’s girl to ever breathe. growing up, she was always very in touch with her hispanic culture, adoring everything about her roots and then some. she began dancing before she could even walk properly and fell in love with it instantly. however, she made it more than a habit to remain in touch with her father’s scottish roots.  

Fun, free-spirited, and fiercely independent, the Aries woman is a breath of fresh air – a brightly burning candle in human form. Fire is her element, igniting all that she touches with the living spark of life. The Aries personality is creative, passionate, energetic and – at times – domineering and short-tempered. A cardinal sign ruled by the planet Mars, the Ram is great at getting things going, initiating endeavors, and infusing her enthusiasm into everything she does

true to herself, and her zodiac sign, mariana is a vixen. a total coquette but dangerous. one step at a time, though. back to growing up.dance was a major part of her life, winning competitions with flying colors and excelling in every routine taught to her. 

she’s intelligent, not only book smart - obviously. straight a’s were always something that her parents expected from her, something she delivered. even now, that she’s older, not a single headache has been given to her parents. she keeps all gang business away from the restaurant and spends the week at her father’s house, weekend with mom. to somewhat ease the separation. 

the start of her freshmen year, she met aiden. for some reason, their schedules coincided more often than not. at the time, she was captain of the dance team considering she had been recruited before the school year even started. and one of the few freshmen in the varsity cheerleading team. yes, she dabbles. in reality, she had no time for anything. being nose first into her studies and athletics. 

she was fifteen when she met jacob day, captain of the baseball team. their star pitcher. and eventually, her boyfriend. he was older than her, two years. but he was sweet and romantic. at least, at first. jacob day had proven to be the absolute worst thing to ever happen to her. he had become a junkie, paying other kids to take the athletic drug tests for him and eventually - he got abusive. she stuck around because he had never gotten physical, only verbal. and most days he was still the same boy she fell in love with. most days. 

until, of course, he wasn’t. she was sixteen when he laid a hand on her. she was sixteen when his touch was cruel. she was sixteen when her temper snapped. he was eighteen when he took his last breath. she was sixteen when anarchy took her in. they had been at a party and it had been in the bathroom that jacob day had gotten physically abusive with mariana reyes. 

it was at a random bathroom in the large house that aiden found mariana, a mess. her hands were stained with blood, her knuckles bruised and her clothes tainted. she had, in all the sense of the phrase, murdered him in cold blood. he didn’t even flinch when he saw her standing over the lifeless body of the star pitcher, her now ex-boyfriend. aiden had gotten her out of the house, clean and they had left behind a sparkly clean bathroom and no sign of her sins. it was aiden who took her to anarchy. 

there, the late leader of anarchy ( who saw too much of herself in mariana ) took her in. hours later mariana sat on the anarchy leader’s couch with a fresh bird inked on her rib cage. her first kill. it didn’t take long for the late leader to take a liking to the small framed pristine girl. or well, once pristine. mari was taken under the leader’s wing, trained and ultimately molded by the leader. 

she was eighteen when the anarchy leader named her second in command. not a single soul understood why an eighteen year old girl was the second in command for one of the most dangerous gangs to ever live. not a single soul except for aiden lancaster and the late anarchy leader. it was a secret that they would, quite literally, take to their graves. groomed by the late leader, mariana is the literal definition of underestimation. because who, in their right mind, would believe that a twenty one year old girl barely 5′3 could lead a gang of ruthless killers ?? 

the leader had known what she was doing when she molded mariana to take over once she passed. she not only left mariana protected ( again, not a soul would believe that a young girl could actually be in charge ) and left the gang in good hands. mari had been trained, not only in murder, but in calculating and coming up with game plans. she had great relationships with all of anarchy’s suppliers, they all loved her. and why wouldn’t they ?? she was a young and pretty little thing but she was always on time with payments. and so she finds herself in the throne, calling the shots, to keep anarchy at its best. and it is, definitely, at its best. not a hiccup has been felt since the passing of their leader, their income has maintained intact and their supplies have not faltered. all that changed was the mourning and grief done in absolute secret. because god forbid that anarchy showed weakness.    

[rainbow-neko-main]

Freedom in Different Places (Ch. 2)

*cracks nuckles* les go-

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

Jack woke up that morning to the smell of...bacon? "What the hell..." he mutters. No one is ever up this early. He usually makes breakfast for the other residents as he has to get up early to record videos and work before they go motoring. Who was in the kitchen? He decides to shuffle out of bed and creep down the hall in his pjs. He was sure it was just Anti makeing toast so he can lock himself in his room for today- or maybe Marv dropped in-

Jack froze in the doorway of the kitchen as he watched the capped man fry some bacon, next to a plate of premade pancakes, coffee, and...was that omlets?! He didn't even know Chase could cook! Let alone well! "Chase, bud, whats all this?" Jack asked in surprised. Chase jumps a little and speaks, not turning his head away from the pan infront of him. "Oh! Hello Jack, I uh...I wanted to get a headstart on the day ya know...? Just get some new looks on the city and all that..." he laughs nervously. Chase was a terrible liar and Jack knew this, but he must have a good reason for trying to hide it from him so he'll let it slide for now. "Well thank you for the food." He smiles and walks over, helping Chase plate and serve the food.

Anti walked down soon after and they all ate in peace. As a gang they were more than just acquaintances. They were family, 3 brothers liveing in their own house in the city. Chase glances over at the clock and apon noticing the time was 8:16 am looked panicked. The library opened at 8:30! He had to go-

Quickly, he proceeded to shovel the food into his face and drop his plates in the sink. Calling a quick "Ihavetogohaveagooddayloveyoubye!" With a flusterd face as he rushed out the door and slammed it behind him causeing Anti to jump. The man in question looks over at Jack and says "is...he okay?" With a quick reply, "Hes hideing soemthing but its not our buisness..." Jack sips his cup of coffee. Anti shrugs and finnished his food, heading back to his room for the day. Jack following suit to his recording room of foam walls.

Chase on the other hand was realing with adrenaline. Rideing around on a fast motorbike always made him feel so free...he could never understand those poeple who enjoyed staying cooped in all day...then again he had married one like that, a shame that his motoring caused such a rift in the family...he wasn't sure that emptyness would ever be gone...On his bike, the cares of the world flew away, left behind to eat his dust, he would go on for hours thinking that one stop, one break and they would catch up to him, break him down and throw him into a grinder. However he had to stop, as the small pristine building came into veiw, the sign above reading the purpose of the place loud and clear, "Library". And there at the doors was the man he wanted so desperately to see again.

Henrik was just about to open the doors of the library when he heard a sudden voice call to him causing him to squeak in surprise and drop his keys. "Henrik! Oh, sorry did I startle you...?" He remmebers that voice! Oh god- he quickly bent down and picked up his keys, turning only to meet the man, Chase, face to...chest. damn he was tall. His face flushed slightly as he looked up and met his eyes. "Oh n-no no! Its fine! I'm just easily startled Chase..." The man beamed, happy that the librarian remmeberd his name. Henrik looked around the parking lot questioningly, he didnt see any cars around for Chase to be here so ear....ly.....oh....

Was that a....motorcycle!? A freaking motorcycle!? His face flushed hotter and he coughed trying to compose himself. "What brings you here so early Chase?" He smiles up at the man, failing to hide the obvious flush in his attempt to protend nothing was wronge. Chase however....had other plans. It was his turn to flush. "Yeah I was just wondering if you would....maybe like to spend some time together some time." Henrik blinked. He wasn't sure he had heard the man correctly. "N-nothing like, a restraunt or anything- unless you want to! But your uh....number....or contact? I just uh....you seemed really nice yesterday and-"

"HAHAHAAHAAHAH-" Chase was cut off by a loud german laugh. Thinking that Henrik was laughing at him, he looked down at his shoes in disappointment. "Sorry...that was a stupid question-" "N-no no! Chase please, you just shocked me is all!" Henrik giggled slightly calming down. Chase perked up at that. "Does this mean you'll hang with me!?" Henrik smiled brightly and nodded. "I have to work the library today but...are you free sunday?" "Yes! Totally!" Henrik nodded and went inside for a moment, returning with a dark blue sharpie. He takes Chase's arm lightly and scribbles his number onto his hand and pulls away, completely oblivious to the blush on Chase's face. "Would you like to spend the day inside with me for now?" Henrik suggests. In actuality he just wanted to be inside. The outside world was...scary to say the least. Full of germs and thi ng s that could harm you at any second. Henrik felt as in worlds described in storys were enough for him. They were much more fun aswell in fantasy cases.

Chase froze up a little as he thought about staying inside all day....in the cramped library....with Henrik....that last part wasn't so bad actually, but all day?! He thought about it and in the end...he nodded yes! Henrik smiled and pulled him inside happily. And thankfully the day actually got better. Chase, found himself incredibly calm around Henrik, at this point he would have been running anxiously for the exit or haveing a panic attack but...even now he felt it. The calm surrounding Henrik...it was like the embrace of a close friend or even....a lover...

"Chase? Helloooo earth to motorbike!" Chase snaps out of it and looks over at the laughing Henrik. "Your really out of it, something on your mind?" "Oh it's nothing. I just don't normaly feel this calm in enclosed spaces. I guess..." Chase paused a moment and looked directly at Henrik while speaking the next line. "You being here is enough to calm me down..." Henrik can feel his heart stop. The library around them suddenly felt...so small. Like they were just two people in a closet. So close...

"Anyways, what were you trying to get my attention for?" Chase asked, interupting Henrik's train of thought. Henrik jumped a little and responds "oh! Right, its late now so its time for us to head home." Chase glanced outside and stared at the dark. "By the way. I didn't see your car out there. You don't happen to walk do you?" "Yes why?" "Henrik its way to dark for you to walk home. How about I drive you there?" Now it was Henrik's turn to freeze up. Ride with him!? On the death bike?!? He did bring up a good point...it was dark...."O...okay"

Chase walks him down to the bike, pulling out a spare helmet he keeps for situations like this and handing it to the librarian. He puts his own on and hops on the bike. Gestureing for Henrik to hop on behind him. He hesitantly follows the direction, wrapping his arms around Chase's waist to not fall off. Both blushed a little at that but soon that was forgotten as Chase kicked the motobike into gear and started the ride to the address Henrik had given him when they left. At first Chase didn't open his eyes, he was just hugging Chase tightly and buried his face into the biker's back. But soon that feeling of dread started to fade away as he felt the wind. The fears he held onto about being...out here. In the open. Suddenly melted. As if the person he was holding on to so tightly was a lighter and his fears were an icecube. He slowly losed his grip and looked up a the passing sites. The same adrenaline that filled Chase now flowed through henrik as he let out a loud cheer of excitement through the helm. Chase grinned at Henrik's yell and joined in as they both rode fast and furious to Henrik's house.

Apon reaching their destination they got off the bike and were now standing infront of Henrik's doors. "Hey thanks for the ride...that was actually a lot of fun!" Henrik smiled shyly at the other, who returned it in kind. "No problen, thanks for letting me stick around. It was really nice to just, hang with you..." they stared at eachother for a moment and...there it was again, the closet feeling, aa if they were just two people in a closed off space from the rest of the world. Just them...

Chase couldn't take it. He leaned forward and quickly pecked Henrik's lips, befor pulling away and sprinting back down the pathway to his bike. "I'll call you! Cya on sunday Hen!" He called out, leaveing the blushing stuttering mess of a librarian on his welcomeing mat. Henrik's hand rested over his lips, shocked that just happened. There was not enough words in any of the books what could describe how happy he was...

He was definitely going to see Chase on Sunday though!

[gryffindormischief]

gattara

A/N: Helloooo this is from a prompt blog on tumblr here and then @annerbhptold me to do it and then with the assistance of annerb and @celtics534 I wrote this mess of a thing. I'm wanting to do a part 2...

Also on FF and Ao3!

Some people just have one of those faces. That ‘tell me your life story at the check out’ face, or the ‘Of course I would like to help you move’ face or in Harry’s case the ‘make puppy dog eyes at me and yes I will take care of you forever’ face. It stems mostly from Harry’s tendency to feel he can and should fix everything for everyone - Sirius calls it his hero complex.

It started when he was about five and a half with his holiday friend Gary Frampton’s ill-fated sandcastle in Mallorca and continued right up through his school years which meant many nights spent as designated driver and whatever other borderline codependent type things Harry could undertake.

Really though, it’s never been too terrible or permanently life altering. His mum was very big on making sure he took care of himself and didn’t let people take advantage of him and his ‘sweet, warm heart.’

Whenever she launched into one of her mini rants on the subject, his dad’s face always tightened a bit and he became uncharacteristically quiet, just grunting out a short, ‘your mum’s right’ and not much more. Though the rest of the day would predictably be characterized by noticeable closeness and affection often termed ‘hovering’ by Mrs. Potter and ‘normal demonstrations of love’ by Mr. Potter.

Harry knew some of that back story, the friendship turned sour, the hate and slurs and anger that rang the relationship death knell. The closest he’d ever gotten to gory details came courtesy of a late night drink with Sirius and Remus. The short, simple version was sweet, loyal, brave, fierce Lily being tossed over for racist, asinine, violent gang members. And James had some involvement in the final blow up that he’s certainly not proud of, regrets to this day. Though, taking the full story into consideration, Harry thinks James probably showed a pretty high level of restraint. Sirius barked out a laugh at the recollection of ‘fourteen-year-old prat James’ and Remus assured Harry most of the regret was from a very ill advised date invitation.

After getting that much information Harry was first, not interested in hearing more about the greasy little arse, and second, fully understanding about his parents’ reluctance to discuss the whole story.

When he’d said as much - more like slurred, since it was his first foray into the land of dark liquor - Remus’ lips twitched with a grin and Sirius slapped him on the back and called him a chip off the old block.

Somehow, all this floods Harry’s brain in the first few moments he sees the little ball of fluff curled on his windowsill.

At first, he thinks Mrs. Henley three doors down was right and the building is infested with vermin. It’s a more distressing thought than most people really would think, removed from the situation. Having a rat in your home might not seem a big deal in the abstract. But once you see it curled up mere feet away from the couch where you dozed off in a post-midterms haze just a day or so before, it’s a viscerally distressing thought.

Luckily, Harry quickly reaches the conclusion that if the invader were in fact a rat, it would have to be of the R.O.U.S, giant swamp rat variety and he’s fairly certain that bit of the Princess Bride was part of the fantasy element.

Or at least he’s hoping.

And apparently, it’s his lucky day because the little thing rises onto three little paws and does the most adorable yawn-squeak-stretch combination Harry’s ever seen. He blinks twice and steps closer to confirm that yes, it is a three-legged little cat, enjoying the late afternoon sun leaking in through his open window.

He’s far from an expert, but if he were pressed, it seems like the feline’s just barely past the cusp of kitten and Harry’s instantly hit in his achilles heel - except instead of the proverbial puppy dog eyes, the cat blinks up at him with wide green eyes and lets out a soft mew.

And so, like the soft touch he is, it took all of about thirty minutes for Harry to decide not only that he was keeping the tiny ball of fluff, he’d named it Toothless. Damn, Sirius will not let this go .

It should be noted, that Harry being somewhat of a pushover when his heartstrings are tugged he’s more than a little bit of a troublemaker. So when he realizes a vet should probably check his new flatmate out the thought that he’s technically not allowed to keep said flatmate is a brief idea he really only takes into consideration in the sense that he lures the thing underneath his coat and keeps it tucked there as he skulks from the building.

Of course, his luck used up by the whole ‘not a rat’ thing, Harry runs into one of his neighbors as she’s stepping off the lift. As if that wasn’t enough, it’s his fit and utterly fanciable neighbor with hair like a sunset and a grin that sends his heartbeat ratcheting up to what has to be an unhealthy tempo.

But the rose colored glasses of a fancy-from-afar don’t keep him from noting the circles beneath her eyes, the tired slump of her shoulders. He’s grateful in a sense, since his self preservation instincts are in complete agreement with his protective ‘mother hen’ tendencies and seem to demand he let her pass with a short smile and a dip of his head.

She answers in a similarly non-interactive manner and shuffles off toward her flat.

The first weeks pass in a haze of Netflix and cuddle with his new best friend, too much revision work, revision that turns to cat googling, and then more snuggling. Sirius, the ultimate pro-dog fanatic, feels the entire thing is a personal affront and Harry feels bad for half a second until Toothless clambers up on his chest and sniffs at his patchy ‘it’s almost finals’ beard and curls up in a little ball. Then, all Harry can feel is a disgustingly warm feeling in his belly so Sirius can stuff it.

He tells him so, gets a proud huff in return, and the issue mostly drops.

As exams near, term papers pile up, and Harry’s new best friends are JSTOR, his four pack of heavy-duty highlighters, and anything with high levels of caffeine.

Which means poor Toothless begins feeling neglected and shows his distaste for the current state of his life by meowing loudly and frequently. It’s not too much trouble, once Harry enters that haze of focus that only comes during the final week of term so aside from a pang every time Toothless gives him a pitiful look across the mounds of textbooks and stray papers and whatever else litters the table he’d picked up at a flea market the week he moved in.

He’s woken from a dreamless accidental kip post-exam four by increasingly loud slams at his door. Toothless is perched on the farthest sofa cushion looking guilty, but Harry’s barely lucid enough to remember what day it is, let alone guess what the cat might’ve been up to while he slept.

The banging renews and and Harry stumbles to his feet and makes his way toward the door, yanking it open quickly enough that he nearly gets a fist to the face care of a certain gorgeous redhead.

He ruffles his hair. “I uh - I hope whatever’s bothering you hasn’t lingered long enough you wanted to slug me.”

That earns him a blink and something close to a smile before her expression hardens and her hands clench into fists. “You - I don’t want to be a prat but,” she shoots a glance up and down the hallway, “I’m not a total arse. This is a conversation for inside.”

Harry leans up against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. “So you interrupt my study session,” he pauses when she eyes his bedraggled hair and clothes, “You interrupt me, violate the quiet sanctity of my home, and then invite yourself in?”

She snorts. “Quiet. Right. I’m asking for your own benefit. Is it that much of a problem to let a friendly neighbor inside?”

“Seemed more panicked than friendly,” Harry corrects, glancing up and down the hall, “Is the building on fire?”

“Just let me in, 12G, yeah?”

“Mum always told me not to let strangers inside.”

“Ginny Weasley. Year Four. Currently regretting most of my life choices which include a lot of extracurriculars and neglecting my personal hygiene.”

Harry’s eyes narrow but he steps back with a nod, though not before a pointed sniff in her direction, “You smell alright.”

Ginny scoffs and tugs a chair out at his kitchen table, planting herself on the seat like she owns the place. It’s an odd thought to have, but Harry finds himself not minding, feeling like maybe she does own the place a bit.

“Of course I smell alright. I’m a gift. Now bring it out.”

“Bring what out?”

“The elephant in the room,” Ginny starts, then pauses, her eyes darting down toward Toothless as he trots in, “Or perhaps kitten in the room would be more appropriate.”

“I’m watching it for a friend.”

She fiddles with one of the many pencils strewn across the table - No.2 for practice tests. “Sure. Regardless of whether I choose to believe that poorly crafted lie, the bylaws of the building are pretty explicit about the whole ‘no living things other than humans and houseplants’ thing.”

Harry sets the kettle on, Toothless lingering close at his heels and watching Ginny with wide, lamp-like eyes. “Ah. So you’re one of those strict, memorize the rule book and throw it at my enemies types.”

“Pretty much none of that is true - except I do kind of want to throw something at you. No need for it to be a rule book though. I’m flexible.”

“So this is...just your way of making friends?”

He takes out a couple of mugs and gestures toward Ginny with one vaguely. She nods and Harry drops a tea bag in each.

“Can I get at least a partial free pass for being knackered out of my wits?”

The kettle screams and Ginny winces at the sound as Harry pours the steaming water into each mug before retrieving any and all tea-doctoring accoutrements he keeps stocked. Ginny takes some care clearing a space at the table and Harry shrugs as best he can with a heavily laden tray in hand before tipping his chin toward the den. “How about we settle in on the couch?”

“Making a move on me? First the fancy tray and now a cozy couch session?”

“Sirius said he couldn’t have me living like a heathen with no tea tray for guests,” and to answer Ginny’s barely formed question he adds, “Sirius is my godfather. Much less murdery than the Godfather godfather.”

“Interesting, because as soon as you said ‘loves tea trays and living a proper life’ I thought, ‘Hm, this Sirius fellow must be a criminal mastermind and murderer.”

“You never know - his mum was batty.”

Ginny snorts and squeezes a bit of lemon into her tea, then stirs some honey. “Anyway. I did want to complain about your cat - I don’t really care if you’ve got an unapproved hotplate or whether you’ve got the required rug-to-square-foot ratio happening in here, but he’s meowing all the time .”

“Ah. Well that’s my fault. Also what time would that be?”

“Yes. Unapproved cat. Belongs to you. It meows and wakes me up. Your fault,” Ginny ticks off on her fingers before blowing on her tea and taking a tentative sip, “It’s about half past eight.”

“No, I mean he’s normally fine. I’ve had him for a while and the meowing only started when I got too busy to play.”

Ginny clucks her tongue. “What a terrible cat dad you are.”

“Oh and you’re some expert, Miss Rules and Regulations?”

“Well I’ve never gotten that one before.”

Harry laughs, fumbling through the detritus that litters the table before his fingers finally settle on the half-demolished tin of biscuits sent in his latest care package. No matter how many times Harry pointed out that he came home often enough that mailing the boxes was kind of unnecessary, his parents were united in the idea that sending the box and getting a special gift from them in the interim between the visits was half the point. ‘A little piece of home.’

It did feel a little illogical, but Harry admitted in the privacy of his mind that getting the notice from his building and finding the overly large package of things to spoil him did warm his chest. And he might have a box full of their notes - Mum’s love and advice, Dad’s reminders about having a good time, and Sirius’ updates on the family coupled with as many dirty jokes as he could get on the page without anyone noticing.

All that said, Harry loves these biscuits, the little taste of home they bring. His dad has been making them since Harry can remember and James Potter has never been one of those ‘if I make it all the time, it won’t be special’ people. If Harry asked for Dad’s spicy gingersnaps, Harry got them. Lily warned that he would spoil Harry to death, but James loved to skirt the edge of safety and propriety, and Harry wasn’t about to agree that he was being spoilt.

To this day, twenty some odd year old Harry feels like he’s back in that warm kitchen, the cottage walls cozy and warm around him while he and James prepare to watch whatever football match was scheduled for the afternoon.

So when he breaks the tin open and offers it to Ginny, it’s a big deal. He’s not due for another fix before he goes home for a visit at the end of term and he’d been rationing the horde to the best of his ability since the package came just after Easter.

But he does, and if he really thought about it, the motivation is half her cheeky repartee and half the teasing glint in her dark eyes he could get lost in.

But she’s far from the level of distraction Harry’s reached thinking about her freckles and her hair and her - “Gone a bit cat-atonic there neighbor?”

“Harry - my name’s Harry.”

Her lips twist in a smirk. “Paw-don me.”

“Trying to get me to agree your defining characteristic is puns rather than being a stick in the mud?”

“I’m very claw-ver.”

Toothless wanders back over and pounces into Harry’s lap, sniffing at the biscuits, purring contentedly as Harry’s free hand scratches between his ears. “This is disturbing. Because all I’m hearing is you’ve been sitting in your flat angrily thinking of cat puns for - how long?”

“You’re telling me copious amounts of caffeine, stress, and revisions have never made you get punchy?”

“Yes, so I eat jello and laugh when it wiggles,” Harry smirks, “I don’t sit in my room plotting revenge by puns.”

Ginny takes another swallow of her tea and tsks. “Barely ten minutes in a room with me and already underestimating my skills. Not the first person to make that mistake.”

She trails off and Harry quirks his brow. “See you said that like you’re about to murder me. And you’re probably low on sleep and patience. If the banging is anything to go by.”

“Not all of us have the luck of deep, impenetrable sleep cycles,” Ginny grumbles, swiping another ginger snap.

“Clearly you have a lot of thoughts on my abilities as a cat dad.”

“Generally it’s frowned on to sleep through your child crying.”

“Noted. But I will say the little rascal was being melodramatic,” Harry says, as Toothless turns wide green eyes on him and looks utterly betrayed. “Well you were. Full bowl and water dish, endless toys,” he glances up at Ginny, “I even got him a cardboard sleigh with catnip in it.”

Toothless walks a few small circuits in Harry’s lap before settling down in a little ball, purring contentedly.

Ginny sets down her mug and begins working her hair into a loose plait. “Well I think you have your answer there,” she gestures toward his lap while twisting the end of her braid with a tie, “Somebody’s lonely.”

Harry’s eyes dart to hers and Ginny’s cheeks flush. “Cats are pretty social, when they want to be, I mean.”

“I uh- I mean I am lonely I guess,” Harry says with a nervous chuckle, “Who else decides to keep a cat that snuck in their open window?”

“And in a flat that doesn’t allow pets, no less.”

“God - for someone who looks like they want to die when I say it, you really are obsessed with rules.”

“Only when they exist to protect my already completely shite sleep schedule,” Ginny grumbles, “Now be a good host and offer me more tea before I pass out on your table.”

Grinning, Harry does as he’s told and heads into the kitchen to refresh their teas. Maybe he’s not the only lonely one.

By the time he returns with two steaming mugs, somehow Ginny’s managed to get Toothless eating out of the palm of her hand. Literally.

“Do you - I think cats aren’t supposed to eat ginger cookies.”

“No they’re not.”

Harry blinks, stuttering to a halt so hot tea splatters over his fingers. “What the - are you poisoning my cat?”

Ginny rolls her eyes. “God, no. I had some cat treats - here,” she waves him closer and grabs the tea towel from the proper godson tea tray. She lifts one mug and then the other from his hands, cleaning each and then reaching for his hands, “I stole some from my brother’s girlfriend over the weekend. Thought I could get the loud cat to shut it with some ‘carrot.’

Harry’s ‘a pretty girl is close’ nerves are ratcheting up pretty quickly and he’s really hoping Ginny’s not one of those people who uses casual contact to take someone’s pulse. It’s particularly difficult when said pretty girl is staring into his eyes while slowly swiping at his fingers. His brain manages to grind into action. “And I get the stick?”

While Ginny laughs softly, Toothless weaves his way between their legs before pushing up on his hind legs and prodding Harry’s shin, which luckily brings him back to reality and away from the shockingly detailed fantasy his overtired brain managed to work up in the last half a minute.

He clears his throat and Ginny takes a step back, gaze darting down to his hands - which she still hasn’t released. “No burns?”

“Nah, I think I’m alright,” Harry says, lifting his hands away and yes maybe he lets his thumb brush along her palm, but it’s been established. He’s lonely and tired and she’s not telling him to shove off -

Before he can get up the nerve to do whatever he was going to decide to do that involved an eventual date and perhaps snog as the end game, a loud ringing sounds from the pocket of Ginny’s joggers and she tosses the tea towel aside and grabs for her mobile.

With a heavy sigh, she silences the shrill noise and smiles ruefully. “That’s my cue. Another exam tomorrow at noon and I’m only about halfway through revisions. I’ve grown to hate the sound of that alarm. May need to burn my phone.”

Wincing, Harry passes her mug over and pats her knuckles as she accepts it. “My sympathies. I’ll uh - Toothless and I will keep it down.”

As if to show his agreement, Toothless rubs his little black and white spattered nose along Ginny’s leg, purring contentedly.

“Hm, that would be good. And maybe I’ll get some snuggles to buy my silence?”

Harry chokes. “I - snuggles - ”

She bites her lip and crouches down to scratch behind Toothless’ ears, then under his chin on that little tuxedo style patch of white. “Maybe you can explain to your poor hairless cat dad that I meant kitten cuddles?”

Flushing, Harry somehow manages to get Ginny out the door without much more embarrassment. Where had salty, overtired Harry gone? He was at least capable of carrying on a semi coherent conversation.

Harry’s so busy with the self-flagellation that he nearly misses Ginny pressing a short kiss to his scrubby cheek. When she pulls away, it’s with a wink for Harry and a little wave in Toothless’ direction. “See you later boys.”

[parkershawss]

Hold Onto This Feeling (Parker x MC)

“Oh, just take it easy Hold onto this feeling All our friends are leaving And we ain’t got nowhere to go,  Caught up in the afterglow.” - Afterglow - All Time Low

Book: It Lives Beneath Pairing: Parker x MC (Harper). Plot: The It Lives Gang, including Robbie and Elliot, spend New Years Eve together.  Warnings: Contains swearing and mentions of alcohol. Drink responsibly folks! Tag List: @brightpinkpeppercorn, @flyawayboo, @samara-rani, @alj4890, @alexpottrechoices, @skipperthetechgirl, @give-me-ernest-sinclaire, @nitta-jaeguet, @mistersinclaire, @krish58100 and @indescribablechoices. Please let me know if you want to be added to my tag list! Notes: My first 2019 fic! This was meant to be a Christmas fic, but I changed some plot details so it fits NYE better. Hope you all had a happy and safe New Year, and of course that you enjoy this fic. The song is about pulling through the dark times and I also see it as being with someone you love most in the world. And well, I think that describes NYE really well. Requests are always open. Also, this is why I asked you to pick between Dirty Dancing or Titanic ;)

It was New Year’s Eve, and you, Elliot, Robbie, and your friends were going to have a party and watch the fireworks at Imogen’s house (thankfully, her parents were out). You were finishing getting ready in your bedroom. Adjusting your hair, you glance over your outfit again in the mirror. “Harper, stop. You look fine.” Elliot’s voice sounds from behind you. 

“You really think so?” You ask, smoothing down your outfit. Elliot rolls his eyes. 

“Yes, you look fine.” He stresses. “I know for a fact that Parker won’t be able to keep his eyes off you. Then again, all of us already know that he can’t do that normally, so-” Gasping, you turn around to face him. “Oh come on Harper, everyone’s seen the way that Parker looks at you.” You feel a blush rising. Ever since you had first laid eyes on Parker at Imogen’s yacht party, it was safe to say you were smitten. And now, he might feel the same?

“R-Really? What’s it like?” You ask.

“Hilarious really. He thinks he’s being so subtle, but he’s really not. We’ve all noticed. Actually, it’s so obvious, I can’t believe you’ve not noticed yet.” You launch a cushion at him, and he holds up his hands in surrender. “Alright! Alright! I don’t know really, I guess...he looks at you with so much love in his eyes, and like you’re the most important thing in his life. Like he doesn’t want to lose you. You get me?” The blush grows even larger, and you swear you can feel tears in your eyes. “Wait, holy shit, are you crying?”

“N-No! It’s just-” You sniffle. “Fuck! Elliot! Now I’m gonna look like a mess. And how am I gonna be able to face Parker when you said he looks at me like that, and-” You whine, urgently trying to stop the tears from falling.

“Oh no..uh, okay, think of other things. Like the fact that your younger brother’s boyfriend is waiting on us, and we’re gonna be late if you don’t hurry up?”

“Okay, that works.”

~~~

“Helloooo everyone!” Imogen sings when she opens the door to the three of you. “Oh my god, you all look amazing! Especially you Harper.” She smiles, giving you all a warm hug. “Come on in! Everyone’s getting drinks and food in the dining room.” She lets you in and sets off down the hallway, you all following behind her. When you enter the room, Tom and Danni greet you with another warm hug. “Where’s Parker?” Imogen asks.

“Right here.” A familiar voice sounds as he walks into the room. “Sorry, was getting more-” He cuts himself off as you turn around to see him. “H-Hi Harper.” He gasps. “You look...uh.” He stops again, and you swear you can hear Danni and Imogen giggling from behind you. “Champagne?” He asks, holding up a glass, which you gratefully accept. “What I meant was...that you look very nice.” You can feel the blush from before returning.

“Thank you Parker.” You smile, hoping it’s not too obvious. But for a moment, you catch a glimpse of one on his cheeks too. 

This was going to be an awkward night.

~~~

“How the hell was that Lord of the Rings?!” Danni protests. 

“It’s Frodo and Sam going up the mountain!” Robbie responds. After you had all finished dinner, the seven of you were sitting in Imogen’s room, playing party games...and still continuing to drink of course. Right now, you were on charades. “I thought it was obvious!” He gasps.

“Not as obvious as something else we know.” Elliot mumbles as he sits back down, almost making you choke on your drink. He was going to be the death of you one of these days, Oblivious, Parker gets up, picking something to re-enact from the bowl. 

“I need someone to help me with this.” He announces. His hazel eyes scan the room. “Harper, care to do the honours?” He asks.

“There’s a shock.” Elliot mumbles, and you gently elbow him in the ribs as you go to help Parker. He shows you the slip of paper in his hands.

Dirty Dancing. Fuck. 

“You ready?” He whispers.

“Are you sure we’re not too drunk for this?” You whisper back, and he chuckles. 

“Trust me. We’ll be fine.” He smiles. Taking a deep breath for courage, the two of you back up. Parker holds up his hands, and you run at him, jumping at just the right second. Parker catches you, and lifts you high above his head. You can hear astonished gasps from your friends, but they soon fade away as Parker’s hold on you tightens protectively. This was...nice. Slightly weird, but nice. After a while, Parker gently lowers you until he is holding you in his arms. Now this felt even nicer. You look over at your friends, all of whom look astonished. “Hey, you’re meant to guess the movie!” Parker protests, letting you jump down. Your friends don’t respond, continuing to look shocked, until:

“Uh, dirty dancing!” Tom gasps suddenly. 

“That’s right!” Parker grins. “Are we doing another one?” He asks. Your friends still look shocked.

“Oh! Uh...I was thinking of playing truth or dare next.” Imogen offers, and everyone nods, positioning themselves in a circle. Sighing, you grab yourself yet another drink, knowing you’d most likely need more as the game goes on, because you knew exactly what question was coming. A a few rounds (and a few more cocktails) later, Imogen turns to ask you a question. “Sooo...Harper.” She begins. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth.” Her grin grows even wider.

“Is there someone in this room that you have a crush on?” She asks. And there it was. Everybody’s gaze turns to face you. But you’re only looking at one person. Sighing, you finish the rest of your drink.

“Look.” You begin, fuelled by liquid confidence. “There’s no need to be all sneaky about this. I get it. I mean...Elliot said so himself, Parker clearly has the hots for me and you all know about it, and I obviously feel the same way, because I mean...look at him. So-” You cut yourself off with a hiccup. “-I don’t get the secrecy and you guys acting like you can’t talk about it, but here it is anyways. I have a crush on Parker, alright?” Everyone is silent. Including Parker, who is slowly turning bright red. Immediately, you realise the gravity of what you just said. Oh fuck. The game tries to continue on, but it’s clear that everyone is too busy focusing on what you said. 

“Parker. Truth or Dare?” Elliot asks. Parker looks like he’d rather be anywhere but here. 

“...Truth.” He sighs. Unsurprisingly, he asks if your feelings are returned. Parker looks over at you, and you can see confusion and turmoil on his face. Suddenly, without a word, he gets up and leaves the room, leaving everyone, especially you, in shock. 

“W-Wait. Parker!” You call after him, scrambling to your feet. A sinking pit opens in your stomach. What have you done?

“Harper, it’s almost midnight, just wait.” Danni urges. 

“Yeah, give him some space.” Robbie agrees. Despite the agreements from your friends, you run out of the room and try to find where Parker went. 

“I’m so stupid.” You curse yourself. “I just had to fuck it up with him, didn’t I? He’s one of the only people who likes me and now I’ve ruined it.” Suddenly, you pass doors leading out onto one of Imogen’s balconies, and see a familiar figure standing on it. Parker. Hesitantly, you open the doors, stepping into the cold winter air. “Parker?” You ask. He immediately turns around.

“Harper? What are you doing out here...I-”

“No. Let me talk. Please.” You tell him. You take a deep breath. “Parker, I’m sorry.” He raises an eyebrow at you. “I shouldn’t have said that at truth or dare, because it was completely inappropriate, and I think it made you uncomfortable. So...I apologise. You’re under no obligation to continue to like me....if you even did in the first case that is. I mean, I don’t know why you would, especially after tonight. I say a lot of stupid shit, and clearly I need to handle my alcohol better, and not to mention that-” Parker cuts you off by placing his hand on your arm.

“Harper Vance.” He begins. “I liked you a lot before tonight....and I still like you just as much, even now.”

“Even with my horrible tendency to talk shit?” You ask.

“Even then. I like you just as you are Harper.” He repeats. You smile, but suddenly shiver as a cold breeze blows. “God Harper, you must be freezing, you don’t have your jacket on!” Parker fusses. 

“No, it’s alright, I-” You lie, but Parker ignores you, taking off his suit jacket and placing it atop your shoulders. Elliot’s words echo in your mind as Parker gazes down at you. 

“He looks at you with so much love in his eyes, and like you’re the most important thing in his life. Like he doesn’t want to lose you. You get me?” And despite the chilly air, you start to feel warm inside. Partly due to Parker’s jacket, but also because as he looked at you, you realised that he loved you. He really, really loved you. And you wanted to hold onto that feeling for the rest of your life.

“Thanks Parker. For liking me just the way I am.” You smile, moving closer to him. He takes you into his arms.

“Of course.” He states. “As long as you’d do the same for me?”

“Like you’d even have to ask.” You reply, almost mumbling the words as your head moves closer to his. Parker follows suit, and your lips meet in a sweet, tender kiss. In that moment, everything felt right. You knew it was cliché, but it was like fireworks were going off at that moment. As if on cue, fireworks immediately begin sounding in the distance, making you and Parker break apart. 

“Happy New Year, Harper.” He whispers.

“Happy New Year, Parker”

Did any of you catch my lil slight Bridget Jones reference? ;)