#He's heard weirder from the two of them at this point

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 10

PREVIOUS

He calls his grandma to thank her for everything. She promises him that if anything keeps him from her on Christmas she’ll just make her way over to South Carolina to see him. “Maybe I can give that boy who is bullying you a piece of my mind!” She says and he loves her for it even if the thought of Andrew vs. his 70 year old grandma gives him heart palpitations that have nothing to do with the five hour energy he just slammed when no one was looking.

(He had eaten turkey because Abby had asked if he didn’t like it when he had forgone the white meat being passed around. She looked SAD so he just piled the dark meat onto his plate (at least it has less tryptophan) trip and now he needs to counteract the turkey. He could not afford to be sleepy on the impending car ride.)

He lets her know that everyone likes her pie and Abby had been overjoyed when he informed her that his gran always attaches a recipe card to the bottom for any pie in transit / for public consumption. (This is a woman who has been asked enough that she has the confidence to assume).

He gets off the line and feels the 5 hour energy kick in when Captain Neil appears out of nowhere next to him and he thinks he strains something when he resists the flinch his rapidly beating heart almost forces him into. “What language was that?” He asks.

“Polish.”

“You really do know a lot of languages. Just like your friend said.”

DANGER. DANGER. DANGER.

“Not that many.” DEFLECT DEFLECT DEFLECT “When are we heading out to Columbia?” DAMMIT

Captain Neil blinks but smiles, “We’ll be heading out in a little bit. Abby’s packing us leftovers. Too bad there’s no pie left. Do you think we could make it at the house? Andrew really liked it.” Neil says.

Pie is a safe topic. Pie will not betray him. Also if Andrew wants pie then he can’t kill FF until FF makes it and, perhaps, the pie will buy him a few extra days of mercy from his executioner.

“We can try. The secret ingredient is a grandma’s love though.” He says because it’s on the recipe card. It’s the most important ingredient in the whole pie. It’s what can keep a pie warm across a country. “Gran always says whipped cream can be used as a substitute though.” he says.

Captain Neil blushes.

DAMMIT WHY? WHY BRING UP THE WHIPPED CREAM?

“Well, we’ll have to pick some up from the store.” Captain Neil manages.

FF blanks his face as best he can and nods but gets up his heart beating too fast to remain seated. “I’ll be outside.” He says because he needs to walk around in some circles while he can. The car ride to Columbia is going to be a nightmare in general but especially since he slammed the five hour energy.

Kevin is the reason for the hold-up and the reason that FF gets 80 more laps around the house. He’s reminding them that they can’t stop exercising just because it’s a break gesturing to himself and the 20 minutes of squats that he just did to burn off the pie and then to FF who passes a window for the 10th time since this conversation started “See FF is keeping up with his fitness. Be more like him.”

Wymack eventually drags Kevin out of the house and into his car since they’re spending the break together. He flashes FF a thumbs up as FF passes and FF (unaware as always but great at mimicking social cues) gives him a thumbs up back.

It’s then that they get into the car. FF (as is the way of the world) is sitting bitch with Aaron and Nicky on either side of him.

Captain Neil is up front and starts to play some music. Both Nicky and Aaron are conked out before they even reach the entrance to the interstate. They have also slumped onto FF with Aaron asleep on his shoulder and Nicky drooling into his hair.

“You can just shove them off.” Andrew says.

“It’s fine.” FF says reminiscing about the last time he’d had something like this.

20 minutes later it’s not fine because the five hour energy is definitely kicking in but it would be so rude to move and wake Nicky and Aaron up. Nicky is probably tired because he came to check on FF five different times the night before and kept dragging him away from whatever Saw movie he was taking notes on and Aaron ate a LOT of white meat so he’s filled to the brim with tryptophan.

But he thinks he’s about to vibrate out of his skin.

He closes his eyes to try and breathe through this when.

“Smith said that we can try and recreate his grandma’s pie. We’ll just have to do a grocery run tomorrow.” Captain Neil says in Russian.

“It was good pie.” Andrew returns in the same language.

“He said that the secret ingredient is grandmotherly love.”

“It was on the recipe card. It said for best results be sure to add throughout the baking process.”

“His grandma said whipped cream was a good replacement. That it goes great with the pie.”

Uh-oh

FF knows that tone.

FF has fled across campus, the bus, the dorm room, and (one one notable occasion) the locker room when he has heard that tone coming from Captain Neil.

“Pie isn’t the only thing it will enhance the flavor of.” Andrew says back and FF feels as the car speeds up.

FF wishes that Andrew would just hurry up and crazy murder him already. He’d take the reverse bear trap over this psychological torture. He wants to pull up his phone and read if the Geneva Conventions list this as a war crime.

NEXT

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[rambles-about-minecraft-ocs]

theres something so funny to me when hermits are talking about redstone and theyre like "and then theres an etho hopper clock here-"

like. of course they use etho hopper clocks, itd be weirder if they actively avoided using it, considering its like. a redstone thingy that is very useful and still works even after all this time, and from what i understand it was like. a pretty big deal in terms of useful things you could do with redstone back when he first made it because it opened up ways to do even more things with redstone

and like for the most part theyve probably been referring to that particular thing as an etho hopper clock for longer than theyve even known etho personally, considering the etho hopper clock predates his joining hermitcraft by at least 1-2 years, and several of the other hermits joining hermitcraft by even more. so of course they still call it that

on a related note, most of them likely had at least heard of etho before meeting him, even if they didnt personally watch him (tho i know some did) since he was an old school minecraft youtuber. like his original season 1 of "lets play minecraft" started when minecraft was so new it hadnt been officially released yet. literally back in minecraft alpha. he was a minecraft youtuber OG

so with those two points taken into consideration it completely makes sense that "etho hopper clock" is something ingrained into the terminology of anyone that does stuff with redstone somewhat regularly. theres no reason it wouldnt be

but when you put it into contrast with like. their actual interactions with etho. it kind of cracks me up???

its like. in my head the vibes are this: imagine building something and being like "okay guys, for this machine we need to use an archimedes screw, which is named of course after its inventor archimedes, a man so genius that to this day he is regarded as one of the most brilliant inventors and mathematicians to ever walk this earth" and then like thirty minutes later you go to a restaurant and you see archimedes, of classic antiquity fame, trying to eat a sandwich but the ingredients keep falling out in increasingly comedic manners. so you of course call him pathetic to his face, and then ask if he wants to try out your new totally-not-a-scam product that you carry on you at all times for opportunities like these. and for some reason he doesnt just say yes, but buys two

[7ndipity]

Every Little Thing

Yoongi x Reader

Summary: When you overhear Yoongi talking about how clingy you’ve been lately, you decide to take a step back from your friendship to give him space. But your sudden absence goes far from unnoticed by him.

Word Count: 2k(wtf?!)

Warnings: angst, swearing, only partially proofread

A/N: Thanks so much to the lovely anon who requested this! This story, I... I don’t know what happened, I went from struggling to get it to work at all to getting waayy too carried away. I kinda had to stop myself at the end before it shifted into something else, but maybe if y’all want a part two, we can pick up from there?

Masterlist

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As you got off the elevator, you couldn’t help the faint bounce in your step as you made your way to Yoongi’s studio, your bag slung over one shoulder, a grocery bag of snacks and drinks for the two of you to share.

Ever since you and Yoongi(and in turn, the rest of the members) had become friends, The Genius Lab had become a hideaway of sorts for you. Whenever you were feeling stressed or overwhelmed, you knew you could call Yoongi, and he would tell you to come over, letting you camp out on his couch while he worked, occasionally asking for your thoughts or opinions on a specific song or line.

As you neared his studio door, you noticed it was slightly ajar, allowing the voices from inside to slip out into the hall, quickly recognizing them as Yoongi’s and Namjoon’s.

“You wanna come to lunch with me and Hoseok?” Namjoon asked.

“Agh, I can’t, I told Y/n’s we could hang out today.” You heard Yoongi’s chair creak as he stretched, letting out a groan.

“Again? That’s like the third time this week, people are gonna start thinking you’re a couple or something at this rate.” Joon joked, making your cheeks flush lightly.

“Nah, it’s nothing like that,” Yoongi replied, sounding tired. “They’re just being clingier than usual, you know what they’re like.”

You frowned at his words. What did he mean by that?

“I know it’s just cause they’ve been stressed lately,” Yoongi continued. “But honestly, it’s gotten to the point where it’s weirder for them to not be here.”

Joon chuckled. “I’m surprised you don’t find that annoying.”

“I didn’t say that I don’t,” Yoongi said. “But it’s Y/n, so I let it slide. Anyway, on that track you showed me-”

You stepped back from the door, the sudden tightness in your chest making it slightly difficult to breathe as you quietly made your back down the hall to the elevators. As the metal doors closed, you replayed what you had overheard in your head.

Yoongi had always told you that he didn’t mind you hanging around, but maybe you had started to abuse that privilege, grown too dependent on him. Was that how he really felt about you? Had you become a nuisance? And if so, why hadn’t he said anything?

Pulling your phone out of your pocket, you quickly found his number and hit the call icon, trying to swallow down the lump in your throat before he picked up on the second ring.

“Hey, are you almost here?” He answered, sounding much brighter than a few minutes ago.

“Uh, actually, I don’t think I can make it today.” You said, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Is everything okay?” He asked, concerned.

No, one of my best friends hates me. “Yeah, everything’s fine, something just came up, sorry.” You bit your lip, managing to slip out of the building without running into any of the other members and making your way down the street to the bus stop.

“Okay.” He sounded unconvinced. “Is it anything I can help with, or-?”

“No, no it’s-, it’s a work thing.” You said, the words falling flat on your own ears. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Alright.” He said reluctantly. “Bye.”

“Bye.” You hung up, letting out a deep breath.

You could tell he hadn’t believed you, but you didn’t really care at the moment. If he wasn’t going to be honest with you, why should you be any different?

Suddenly presented with the afternoon to yourself, you decided to head to the park, wandering along the river as you thought over everything.

You and Yoongi had come here together not long after you had moved to the city, the last few blooms of the cherry blossom season clinging on stubbornly to their branches. He’d promised to bring you back the next year, so you could see them in their full glory at peak bloom.

Of course, life and work had gotten in the way, as they often did, and before either of you had realized, the season had nearly passed again before he could keep his word. You’d told him at the time that it didn’t matter, you’d just been happy to spend time with him, a recurring theme for you apparently…

Had you been a bother to him back then as well? You didn’t believe so, but the earlier sting of his words had left you questioning everything, even if you knew it might be an over-reaction.

It was dark by the time you made it home, flopping down on the sofa with a tired sigh as you contemplated your options.

So you’d been bugging him lately, that was an easily fixable problem, right? Just leave him alone for a bit, it was as simple as that, wasn’t it?

You weren’t so sure as your phone suddenly buzzed on the cushion next to you, drawing your attention to Yoongi’s name illuminated on the screen. You’d forgotten you said you’d call him.

‘Hadn’t heard from you, just wanted to make sure you’re okay?’ The text read.

Now who’s the clingy one? Was your immediate first thought.

‘I’m fine, just tired. Talk to you tomorrow.’ You typed shortly before turning off your phone and going to bed, with no intention of texting him the next day unless he did so first.

For the next week, you tried to keep up with your new normal; you didn’t go by the studio, you avoided texting him unless he did first, and generally avoided his invites to hangout with vague excuses.

One place you couldn’t avoid him though was dinner with the other members. It was a monthly tradition that you usually looked forward to, but as you stepped through the door of the restaurant, you only felt a wave of nervousness, for what though exactly you didn’t know.

“Y/n!” Tae quickly hopped to his feet to give you a hug, the others all greeting you enthusiastically. You noticed Yoongi didn’t speak, only nodding to you politely, but his eyes never left you for a second, seeming to study your every move.

“Y/n, do you want my seat? I know you usually prefer to sit by Yoongi-hyung.” Jungkook asked, starting to get to his feet, but you quickly waved him to sit.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to move for me, I’m fine over here.” You said, settling in the free seat next to Jimin, which happened to be directly across the table from Yoongi.

Everyone quickly settled into their usual routines and conversations, the mix of voices blurring into an almost comforting buzz, allowing you to zone out for a moment and relax, but a single low voice managed to snap you back to attention.

“I haven’t seen you all week.” Yoongi said quietly, a noticeable heaviness in his voice.

“Yeah, things have just been kinda busy.” You tried to say convincingly, but it was hard to pull off under his gaze. Luckily, Jin asked you about something from the show you’d been watching and gave you an easy out of the conversation.

You managed to get through the evening well enough, talking with the others, even making plans with Jimin for him to help you pick out some new furniture for your apartment. You’d felt Yoongi’s eyes on you all evening, but hadn’t said anything.

It was later that night when you were pulled from sleep by the sound of someone knocking persistently on your front door.

Cautiously, you climbed out of bed and padded to the door.

Who’s there?” You called anxiously, trying to remember where you’d put your old baseball bat, in case you needed to defend yourself.

“It’s Yoongi.”

You froze, staring at the door in surprise for a second before going over and peering out the peephole.

Sure enough, he was standing on your doorstep, causing a brief sense of relief that was quickly replaced with confusion and the same nervousness from earlier.

Not quite knowing what else to do, you cracked the door open slowly, taking in his slightly disheveled state; hair mussed and faint bags under his eyes. He looked the same way as when he would pull all-nighters at the studio.

“What are you doing here?” You asked.

“Why’ve you been avoiding me?” He responded with his own question, staring you down.

“I-, I haven’t-”

“Don’t lie.” He stopped you.

Glancing around quickly, you pulled him inside, not wanting to have this discussion in the hall.

“You’ve been dodging my texts and calls, you wouldn’t sit with me at dinner, you asked Jimin for help with furniture shopping, which you know he’s terrible at.” He continued as you closed the door. “So, tell me please, what has happened to make you start ditching me?”

“Why didn’t you tell me that I was annoying you?” You snapped.

He stopped, staring at you in confusion. “What?”

“I heard you and Joon talking last week,” You said, his face falling as the memory came flooding back. “About how clingy I’ve been, and how I’ve been annoying you by hanging around so much.”

“You haven’t been-”

“Don’t.” It was your turn to cut him off. “Don’t try to tell me that it’s not true or you didn’t mean it. What I want to know is why you weren’t just honest with me?” You hated the way your voice started to shake as you spoke. “Why didn’t you just tell me to fuck off or something? Why do you put up with me if I'm such an annoyance?!”

“Because I fucking love you!” He blurted out.

You froze, staring at him in shock. “What?!”

“I-, I love you.” He said quietly.

“You love me?” You repeated, hurt and frustration still churning in your stomach, not letting you take his words to heart. “You love me, but you think I’m annoying?”

“I think everyone’s annoying!” He tossed his hands up in frustration. “The difference is that I like your annoyance!

“I like that you’re loud and weird and make terrible jokes, I like that you nag me to take better care of myself.” He said. “I like that you’re happy holed up in my studio with me. I like that you sing along to every song that you recognize, even without realizing that you’re doing it.”

He took a cautious step closer, pleading with his eyes as he spoke.

“I like every little annoying thing that you do, because they’re what make you you. I’m so sorry that I made you think anything otherwise.”

You hadn’t moved as he spoke, fighting the tremble in your lip as your eyes had misted over with tears.

“Y/n?” He asked anxiously.

You didn’t speak, choosing instead to lunge forward, wrapping your arms tightly around him in a bruising hug. He staggering back slightly at the force of the collision, arms immediately coming up to hold you in an equally tight embrace.

“I missed you.” You sniffled, burying your face in his chest.

“I missed you too.” He replied, holding you tighter, pressing a soft kiss to your head. “I’m also sorry for telling you I loved you in a shitty way.”

“Eh, it’s kinda on brand for us, honestly.” You teased, making him let out a huff of laughter.

“I guess you’re right, fuck.” He shook his head.

“You wanna try again?” You offered.

He pulled back to look at you. “Really?”

You nodded. “If you want to.”

He nodded, pulling away enough to take your hand, running his thumb over your knuckles as he pressed his lips together nervously, eyes shaking slightly as he met your gaze.

“I love you, Y/n.”

He’d barely gotten the last word out before your lips were on his, effectively shutting you both up for the next several minutes.

When you finally pulled back, his eyes were blown wide, lips swollen and red from your assault, his breaths coming out in shaky puffs.

“I love you too, by the way.” You said, grinning at his slightly dazed expression.

“Cool, c’mere.” He said, pulling you back in, making you giggle as he eagerly reconnected your mouths.

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

[ultravi0lence14]

CHANGE OF HEART

dean winchester x angel!reader

2.2k | angst, hurt/comfort, szn 9

summary: dean is still a complete ass, but a late night conversation has you realizing the cruel facade the older winchester puts on may just be there to cover his sweet and tender soul.

WHEN ANGEL FALLS IN LOVE

humanity truly was a fickle concept, and you started to understand that as time went on. after you and dean came back from your shopping trip, you were assumedly happier. your room was eccentric, exactly how you wanted it. there had been a white vintage dresser in your room when you woke up a day later, dean telling you that if you wanted a place for that mountain of clothes, than you’d need a place to put it.

your walls were less drab, now having pops of colour and exuberant paintings that lifted your spirits. the furniture was ugly, and the wall colour still looked like mud, but the extra pop of colour did help exponentially.

though something still felt off. you were learning more about humanity, and sam was as he usually is. but things with dean seemed to have shifted from weird to weirder.

he went from being snippy when you talked to him — closed off walls that had slight cracks in them, to completely boarding you off. he blatantly ignored you, the last full conversation you two had being when he bought you the dresser.

you’d come into the room he was in, it didn’t matter what he was doing, or how important, he’d just up and leave. you tried to talk to him as you did on your car ride, he’d give you vague, one word responses or just shake his head for yes or no.

it was disheartening, and really confusing. what had you done in this short period of time that made him change up so fast?

the night was young, a fresh 1am gracing your eyes as you looked at your alarm clock. you were watching a movie, and as time dwindled past, your stomach rumbled in remembrance that you hadn’t eaten in a while.

with a huff, you shut your computer softly and made your way to the kitchen. the bunker’s air was cold on your exposed skin. a small, tight fitted t shirt with a picture of a cat and stripped underwear were all you wore. you didn’t expect anyone to be awake, for sam was usually asleep by ten and dean was avoiding you like the plague. a quick trip wouldn’t hurt, and you’d be in and out in seconds

god, how you wished you weren’t so blindingly oblivious sometimes

instead of worrying about what sam or dean would be doing, you would’ve heard no music from dean’s room, which usually cut out by at least 2 in the morning. it didn’t make it better you had headphones on, and if you weren’t so in your head you would’ve noticed dean sitting at the kitchen table.

your head was down, twirling your hair between your fingers as you maneuvered through the kitchen. not realizing the forrest green eyes stuck on your frame.

dean felt his mouth dry up, hands tightly clasping the fork he held that had recently delved into the crevices of an apple pie. you were going to be the fucking death of him. in that tight little shirt, in those tiny ass panties. this is the reason why he started ignoring you. you were so enchanting, a beacon of light that pulsed dean’s name. he wanted you so bad his heart hurt, yet he knew he couldn’t have you.

he was a bad man, not deserving of the divinity that rolled off of you like waves. that road trip was a turning point, and he realized that his hatred was to hide what he honestly felt.

you were sweet, and too kind for dean’s coal black heart. he could see it from the start, you grace and beauty still evident even after you fell. you were everything that dean longed for, but would never allow himself to have.

that’s why he made you think he hated you, why he ignored you. but now, with the fridge light bathing your figure and lighting you up like a wishing star, dean wanted to be selfish, he wanted to push his worries away for once and indulge in the sweetest fruits.

with a clatter of his fork, dean stood up from the table and walked over to you slowly. you still couldn’t hear him, your headphones blocking out any noise beyond your music, but that’s what dean needed. he needed that moment of clarity before he fully went under.

coming up behind you, his breath tickled down your neck, making your shoulders tense as you slowly paused your music. taking your headphones off and putting them on the counter, you turned around slowly and slightly jumped as dean stared down at you through his hooded eyes.

“jeez dean,” you breathed, hand resting against your chest as you caught your breath. “don’t sneak up on a girl like that, you almost gave me a heart attack.”

he didn’t say a word, just staring down at you as his fists clenched by his sides. you didn’t know what to think, this was the first time dean had even looked at you in days, and his back and forth attitude was starting to confuse you.

sighing, you crossed your arms against your chest, looking up at dean with a stoic expression on your face. you were still an angel after all, and no one taught you about how somethings should be left unsaid.

“what is wrong with you?” the question rolled off of your tongue like poison ivy straight to dean’s heart, making him jerk back a little and widen his eyes. his mouth opened, like he wanted to say something; question you, ask what you meant, you didn’t care. you just put your hand up to halt his words.

“don’t even start,” you bit out, anger you didn’t even know you held slipping through your lips. “you think you can just ignore me for days and then come up to me and stare like a petulant child? i might be an angel who’s new to the world, but i’m not fucking stupid dean.”

your words had him reeling. you never swore — or he’s never heard you. the words coming from your lips were so firm, so assured, that dean couldn’t help a swell of pride flourish in his chest. you were growing stronger, and he couldn’t be more proud of his girl.

well, you would be his girl if he grew a pair of balls.

dean didn’t realize that he’d just been staring at you, lost in his own mind that he didn’t even respond. he finally snapped out of his stupor when you scoffed, turning around and grabbing your headphones before moving to leave the kitchen. “unbelievable. i’m done trying to crack you dean. if you don’t want to even try and care, i’ll just leave you alone for good-“

your words were cut short as dean gripped onto your upper arm, spinning you around and into his chest. his movements shocked you to the point of dropping your headphones, the only noise being the device clattering on the ground and your wracked breathing.

he was so close, so close you could see all the imperfections on his face. his scattered freckles that looked like fairy dust, the stubble that grazed his jaw and how it added to his handsome charm; everything was so overwhelming, and you couldn’t help but grip onto his shoulders as you stared up at him through your lashes.

dean didn’t know why he did it, but he knew it was what needed to be done. he was sick of hiding, and having you this close made him realize how bad he craved you.

the puffs of air from your pretty lips hitting his face, the scent of vanilla and cherries hitting his senses. your hands gripping his shoulders had his palms itching to touch you, shaking as they reached out and gripped your hips.

his batted breath mixed with yours, one hand leaving your waist to delicately dance across your cheek. “please don’t leave,” his voice was filled with vulnerability, slight edges of urgency twisted into it’s roots. “just - give me one second to explain. please, sweet angel.”

sweet angel. the nickname made you gulp, butterflies erupting in your stomach as you just stared up at him expectantly. you waited for him to speak, watching as he closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. your hands on his shoulders squeezed lightly, a small sign of comfort that dean easily caught onto.

when dean re-opened his eyes, you swore you could see his walls crumbling down as he looked at you. his blockades to the real man — which made up his soul, peaking through for the first time. “i’m not good at these kind of things. i’m a killer, a ruthless, self indulgent man who doesn’t deserve your love.”

the words coming from his mouth hit you in the gut, wrenching a deep hole into your middle. dean truly felt that about himself, and it hurt your soul that he couldn’t see how much of a good person he was.

yeah, he was a dick, you could say that much, but he also cared. you saw how he loved and protected sam, how he would put his life on the line for his little brother. you watched him protect people from the creatures of the night, soft words leaving his lips as he consoled frightened victims. whatever dean had tried to show you in the past couple of weeks wasn’t truly him, and you were now determined to show him that.

your one hand lifted to his cheek, watching as his hand on your face fell down and rested on your neck above your pulse point, almost like he was trying to tell himself you were actually real. “you are none of those things dean winchester,” your words were soft, a reassurance that only left dean shaking his head.

“no, don’t do that. please listen to me.” you gripped his face in your hands now, pulling it down so it rested on your forehead. “you are a good man. you kill to rid the world of evil, and that’s the best thing you possibly could do.”

he just looked down at you, a sorrowful look on his face as his eyes showed the way he didn’t believe your words. “i can’t give you what you need, angel.” his words left you shocked, a testament to dean’s confession as he held onto you tighter. “i’m not capable of love, and you deserve a whole fucking ocean of it. you are the true definition of beauty, and you need someone who can give you that and more.”

tears leaked from your eyes, leaning further into dean as he gave silly reasons on why he didn’t deserve you. “dean-“ you breathed, voice shaky as a lump lodged in your throat. all he did was shake his head against yours, bringing his hand up to brush your tears away.

“no tears, please my darling girl. i don’t deserve them.” he tried to pull away, but you held him tighter, not allowing him to let go. “no!” you sobbed, eyes leaking proof of your sorrow. “this isn’t fair! you can’t do this. i didn’t even know how you felt twenty minutes ago. hell, i didn’t even know how i felt twenty minutes ago. i thought you hated me for gods sake. please just give me time to think dean, i deserve that much.”

dean all but whimpers, a sigh that sounds too heartbroken for your now fragile ears. “baby, please. just let me save you, i don’t want to burden you with my issues. you deserve security, a fairytale love you only read in books. i can’t give you that.”

“cut the shit winchester.” you snap, shocking the man in front of you. “this is my life too, remember? what i need isn’t for you to decide. so please, give me a day. and i promise, i’ll decide if i want you to ruin me or not.”

all dean did was shake his head, hugging you to him like he could meld your bodies together. “you don’t want that, pretty girl.”

“if it came from you, i’d allow you to ruin me in anyway possible, so the only aspect of love i see is your heart beating for me.” the words were a little toxic, even you as an angel could see that, but dean was so in his head, you needed to show him that he was capable of love. he was made to love someone, to cherish them and show them how beautiful his soul was. you just hoped he’d let that person be you.

leaving a lingering kiss on his forehead, you separated from the sorrowed man, watching as he reached out for you like you were drifting away in the ether.

picking up your headphones, you moved to walk out of the kitchen. briefly turning around, you stared and watched as dean looked at you longingly, waiting for you to say something. anything. “my room. tomorrow. 12am. i’ll be there with my verdict. but trust me dean winchester, you are capable of a love worth writing about.”

the words lingered as you left, tears slowly falling down your cheeks as you thought of the man who was broken in more ways than you could count. a boy who was deprived of love and believed he didn’t deserve. but you swore, you’d show him. you’d let dean winchester realize how much of a lover he was.

TAGS: @floralscented @deansbeer @titsout4jackles @honeyryewhiskey @haunteres @starzify @fallbhind @foolinthera1n @rubyvhs @jasvtsc @vaiieydoii @taurus0queenie33 @bitchykittenconnoisseur @angel-inspiredblog @galacticalllcafffeine @pascal-rascal424 @annoyingstrawberryballoon @fayeisuppose @geisterfvhrer @bluemerakis @si1ver06 @drqstqr @wh0s-ra3 @supernatural-bangtanboys @whump-loverz @mostlymarvelgirl @d3anwinchesterswife @youdontknowe @oceanolokys

*the shirt she’s wearing is in the pinterest board. . . go check it out🤭

[sergeant-angels-trashcan]

Bestie I NEED to hear your thoughts about Harley and Bruce possibly being secret twins 👀👀👀👀👀

Been thinking about this for WEEKS i fear!!!! This came right as 'rona dragged me down I'm sorry this took so long!!!

I don't know or care about how secret twins happens, what happens in the bedroom of Thomas and Martha and Alfred Pennywayne is NONE of my business unless they invite me which is fine btw

since they're fraternal twins they COULD TECHNICALLY have different dads. am I saying Alfred is Harley's bio dad perhaps and the clown is going to have empty space where his head used to be but I digress. This explains SO MUCH I feel but also we should in no way think that the parents know this. They don't know nor care because THAT IS THEIR BABIESSS. it would probably be Bruce and Harley finding out when they're forty or something because someone needs a kidney. They purposefully forget the information. They don't need it.

And as insufferable as Thomas is with Baby Brucie can you IMAGINE how AWFUL he would be as a Girl Dad tm. I am thinking of your "if you detain one you detain both I KNOW MY RIGHTS" post but with two children!!. Also Thomas would be THEEE cattiest mfer amongst the other dance moms. My god Alfred and Martha would never know peace. Also a million zillion pictures of each parent konked out while holding 2 sleeping toddlers, THINK on it I beseech thee it's so cute. (But then, Thomas accidentally saving/kidnapping Harley from the park and Bruce and Harley INSISTING they are identical twins. Everyone is like no you really aren't until Thomas gives them the most murderous look known to man over their tiny heads. VERY funny when Jason and Cass also do this)

Maybe Harley was very very sickly as a baby and they kept her a secret to keep the press away. I can see family not talking about Martha's pregnancy AT ALL particularly if it was high risk in any way like she would be visibly pregnant due any day and someone would ask her if she was excited about the baby and she would deadass say 'what baby'.

The ideal scenario the Pennywaynes have for their offspring is that they keep the bambini hidden. as far as the press knows one day 18 year olds pop up outside the Wayne Manor as fully formed scions to the empire. You've never heard of them before? GOOD. That was the point.

Also the DRAMA, the ANGST, I think this makes sense with Bruce's weird dynamic with the Joker (though this could work with just siblings ig)?

Bruce doesn't want to kill the person his twin loves because it would hurt his twin, who HE loves. And killing the Joker could result in Harley hating him! Bruce trying so hard to be supportive for Harley and just be there for her so when she finally decides to leave the Joker she knows Bruce has her back.

Bruce knowing all the stuff about what support systems do that helps and hurts victims of intimate partner violence so he's always playing this balancing act of what he feels like he can say/do about him before it affects Harley. And it being his self given job to stop the Joker from doing HIS self given job. If he helps Gotham he hurts Harley. If he tries to help Harley, he hurts Gotham (does very interesting things to the brainworms when thinking about Jason's murder! about why Bruce feels like he can't or shouldn't go after the Joker--because he's proven he will kill a child and use their mother to get them, that is not a man above using his partner to hurt his nemesis!!! and that would be a whole thing for Bruce, he doesn't act because he's genuinely terrified, worried that if he fails he'll lose harley too

idk if the Joker would know about Harley and Bruce being related or Bruce being Batman but I could see this being the turning point for how Harley views the Joker. Like, she'd been going over to the Manor to help Jason talk through his feelings every month for years. Would it have mattered if the Joker knew he was her nephew?)

Also makes the weird sexual tension Bats has with the Joker even weirder if he IS aware of their relationship. He'd be so gross about it. Yes the Joker wants the Wayne twins. He flirts with them in front of the other to piss them off, mostly Harley. Would highkey lie and say Bruce was flirting with him to drive a wedge between Bruce and Harley oh my god I went such a not fun direction with this

Identical twins could be very funny if they were separated at birth no i do not know why they would be separated just roll with me. the one that does not transition is like "why do you have a picture of me as a kid this is creepy what do you mean that's you' . Everyone at college is like ha ha you two look like you could be related! You do the same icky face when you eat pineapple. They dOn'T sEe iT

Maybe she was kidnapped (by like a very young deathstroke or something idk) and SOMEhow Oswald Cobblepot winds up with this feral toddler in his possession. A goon made a terrible life choice perhaps? And Ozzie is just an up and coming crime lord, still settling into the family business, how tf is he supposed to know the Waynes are missing THIS child? if he knew don't you think he'd be extorting people??? I think they could have some very fun and adorable Stacker Pentecost and Mako Mori vibes this man has NO idea how to raise a child but by god!! He will do it right!!! Literally nobody knows about her, he would have people killed for suspecting her existence.

But also take your daughter to work day??!? Harley yelling at incompetent goons in a sweet baby voice. Ozzie is SO PROUD of her, he wouldn't have minded her going into the family business but she's going to be a doctor!! He is just a proud papa!!! Fearsome crime lord The Penguin with sparkle pink nail polish and bows stuck to his head having a tea party with Lil Harley.

I think this is ALSO interesting with the Joker!! I would love if the only reason his dumb ass wasn't taken out the moment he stepped foot in Gotham was because he's Harley's Boyfriend. The only thing stopping the rogues from turning on him is that Harley likes him!! Is he the Gotham version of a crypto-finance bro?

What if it's an older Harley who is kidnapped? Like post Thomas and Martha shooting. It's part of what cements Bruce's notoriety as the Last Wayne. (Everyone asks if he can sense her through their Twin Bond and he gets sooooo mad that's not a real thing!!!! He feels so guilty because if that was a real thing, shouldn't he be able to find her? Shouldn't he know????)

Cut to Batman and Joker in a showdown and there is Harley and Bats CAN'T STOP STARING?!??? why does she seem so familiar? The Joker notices of course and starts saying some very crass things but the IMPORTANT part is that at some point Harley mentions not minding beating up on Batman because she once had a baby brother who was terrified of bats, so she's doing this for him!!! And Bruce is like wait I once had an older sister and I'M afraid of bats?!?!

Harley looks at him REALLY HARD and all of the sudden she's screaming "BABY B????" and roundhouse kicking the Joker into some metal oil drums. NOBODY beats up her baby brother!!!!

The rogues go fucking insane

(the age thing. Harley is technically a day older than Bruce. She was born at 11:50 PM and he was born at 12:05 AM. They make older sibling/younger sibling jokes all the time and think they are very funny. The Batkids would disagree)

[littleplantfreak]

I can't go back to sleep until I write Umemiya pining after a girl who's busier than he is apparently so. I didn't really proofread sorry! :P

The first time he meets you, you literally fall into his arms. Not in the romantic way though, you're just running so fast that when you stumble, trying to skew your direction enough that you don't hurt him, he's fumbling to catch you. The box of books your trying to bring to the library donation box scatters and you're in the most awkward hold ever. "Sorry, really should've watched where I was going," you tell him, out of breath and sweaty. He tries to help you pick up the books but you wave his hand off, before saying a quick goodbye and heading off. He laughs about it later, remembering your hair completely disheveled from the fall and the way you went back to running to the library even though he's sure it's not going anywhere anytime soon.

He ends up asking more people about you, finding out more about you from them, than he's able to glean from his rare run-ins with you. You're as active in the community as he is, just in different ways. Walking a bunch of younger kids to school in the morning because they have to cross a busy street and the school hasn't been able to cover the crossing guard position just yet or helping run the fundraiser for a local shop's owner who's sick, your schedule is packed even when you don't plan for it to be.

Everyone can see him getting a stupidly goofy look on his face as he calls out a quick greeting seeing you on your way somewhere. The first time he sees you tired he's nervous immediately. It's totally normal, given how much you do, but the hunch in your shoulders and sluggish way you're eating the food at Pothos has his stomach turning. He's considering asking Hiragi for stomach medicine now. When you go to leave he's grabbing the fabric of your sleeve gently tugging, a little unsure if you'd be against him grabbing your hand. He's a gentle guy, but no one's seen him treat anyone that delicately before.

"I know you're busy, but could you make time for me?" He's asking, and you misunderstand his concern for you as him really needing help with something, shooting a text to the people you were supposed to meet. You agree and he leads you to the school rooftop, giving you a brief tour.

"What did you need help with again?" You ask, yawning into your hands.

"Ah..." He trails off because he didn't need help but he figures you must've thought that when he asked for your time. "Ya see this hammock over here? I'm trying to figure out if I need to get a new one! Could you try it out for me?" He figures trying to explain that he just wanted to spend time with you might go over your head, so making up an excuse is the best bet, not to mention he might be able to get you to rest.

You're not fazed in the slightest, having been asked weirder favors. "Yeah, it's not gonna fall over or anything, right?" It'd suck to lay down only to end up face first on concrete.

"No no! It's completely safe I promise!" And he's relieved when he finally sees you lie down. It's insanely comfortable too. You start melting into it, pretty sure at this point you're gonna be glued to it forever. "Comfy?" He smiles, knowing for a fact that it is.

"Mm," you mumbled a little out of it. If you don't get up soon you might just fall asleep.

"Think there's room for two? I heard checking that it can handle it's weight limit is important," He says nearly laughing at such an easily seen through excuse, knowing you're probably too tired to even register his logic. Patting the side, you scoot over a bit, waiting for him to lie down too. "O-oh no I was kidding-,"

"Umemiya," and the way you're saying his name, a little gruff from exhaustion has his hear pounding in his ears. You pat the side harder, punctuating your silent demand. It's a tight squeeze next to him, but not entirely uncomfortable, noting how big he actually is next to you. "Think you need a bigger one," you say practically in his neck due to your positions, setting his nerves on fire. Is it hot up here? He's sweating a little, feeling a flush climbing up his neck to his ears. You go quiet, and as he looks over you're fast asleep, starting to drool on his shoulder a bit, chest rising and falling softly.

He's the human equivalent of an exclamation point now, unable to actually move to get off unless he wants to wake you up, which is currently unthinkable. He's able to get his phone out though, and is texting Hiragi in incomprehensible strings of text all in caps, an excess of emojis flying into the chat. Thankfully, Hiragi's had years of experience translating what Ume's trying to say, and when he gets the gist he's thrilled. He hopes they stay up there all day, and his stomach eases reflexively at the though of his leader tied up and unable to cause any trouble. Umemiya gets a quick text back in acknowledgement saying Hiragi'll make sure no one comes up to the roof for the afternoon.

Eventually, after calming down his giddiness, he also end up passing out, getting the best, yet sweatiest sleep of his life. He also ends up with a nasty sunburn on his arm that fell into a patch of sunlight on the side of the hammock, but thinks it's very much worth it when you panic and start massaging aloe into it. Once you wake up, you realize his ply was to get you to rest all along and you're thankful for it asking if you could borrow his hammock again sometime. He's nearly tripping over himself trying to explain that you could come here every day and it wouldn't be a problem, in fact it'd be amazing if you did because he could show you how his garden is doing and introduce you to everyone and, and, and. He's got you giggling with the enthusiasm, before you shake your head saying once a week probably works better. "Maybe tuesdays?" you ask and he agrees, obviously please. "It's a date then." You say, grabbing your stuff before asking him to show you the way back to the front of the school.

He nearly has a heart attack at the word 'date' but for the rest of the week, he's so excited it's annoying, eventually a flustered Sakura yelling at Ume to "Shut up about your girlfriend" and he does. For about 1 minute.

[sigmalaussene]

Top ten weird ways Oswald Cobbepot gets called in Gotham

As I was rewatching Gotham, I decided to write down every name that people in the show canonically call Oswald Cobblepot aka the Penguin. It was a wild ride. Please enjoy

10. "Funny looking fellow"

(season one)

We start with a simple one. This isn't even an insult, it's just a fact. He is, indeed, a funny looking fellow. I'm pretty sure they say it more than once too.

9. "The Dapper Gangland Kingpin"

(season two)

This one it's just silly, especially since it was written on a newspaper. Just... that's weird ? Idk it's silly it makes me chuckle

8. "Yellow rat snitch"

(season one)

We start getting a little weirder. Why a rat? And, more importantly, why yellow???

7. "Stupid lame birdbrain"

(season four)

Just so mean. Especially since this scene it's his dumb husband making a room full of people chant it

6. "Golden goose"

(season one)

Right back to season one and it's incredible dialogue. This one is particularly amazing thanks to Oswald's reply to it, which was, of course: "Honk honk". I can't even start to describe that scene. It's a classic.

5. "Beaky nosed freak"

(season five)

Definitely the best nickname the last season had to offer. Like, you know that moment when a guy kills your bestfriend/girlfriend and you call him the silliest name you can think of? This is one of those times.

4. "Scaley faced bitch"

(season one)

This is the first one in the show, directly from the first episode. I am a firm supporter of calling men bitches when they deserve it, and he did, so I wholeheartedly approve this message. Adding the scaley face part just makes it more poetic.

3. "Sad little breadhead"

(season two)

This one from never fails. Imagine it delivered with the most condicending tone in the world. Just amazing. Makes me laugh every time.

2. "Fruitcake leprechaun"

(season two)

This. This is the one that started it all. It was thinking about this one that I decided that this rewatch I was gonna write down all the nicknames. I dont know if it has something to do with english not being my first language, so I don't have the background of the word "fruitcake" used as an homophobic remark, but this name is one of the funniest things I have ever heard in my life.

1. "Limping little chickenbutt second banana"

(season one)

This couldn't not be on the first place. I am obsessed with the writers of this show, i want to get inside their brains. Because like what does it mean? How did they come up with this? I need to know every thought that crossed their mind for them to write this. This is art. This is poetry. Incredible. Amazing. Absolutely insane. Kudos to the actor who played Maroni because if they gave me that line I wouldn't be able to say it with a straight face.

Bonus:

(For the fans, he is also called "the only thing Nygma cares about". Just... you know, in case you forgot)

Some recurrent nicknames are: "Pengy", "Ozzie", "freak", "cockroach", "punk", bird related names (bird/birdman, feathered friend, chicken, turkey...) and "little"/"tiny" followed by almost anything (man, friend, dirtbag, bastard, creep, twerp, freak, weasel...)

Edit: i realize i didn't mention "Major Crumblepot" and that's on me sorry guys

His haircut is described as "disco vampire hair" at one point (another classic)

He is also called "specimen", which is really funny, and "dewdropper"?? for some reason I don't remember but it was in my notes and I couldn't ignore it lmao

[angelpuns]

50Au Part 12!

The walk was longer than he remembered. Then again, he usually portaled there, so it feeling like a million years was understandable. Not to mention how exhausted and beat up he was at this point. 

Leo wanted nothing more than to go home and curl up in his bed and not move for a long, long time, but that just was not an option right now. He wouldn't be able to sleep anyway, not with those guys still in a cage in his home. 

He'd ensured they couldn't get out, but their presence was not gonna do anything good for his nightmares. 

It was perhaps the only thought that kept him moving. Maybe he could call the Hidden City police, though he was pretty sure this was beyond their jurisdiction. They'd always been fucking useless anyhow. 

It took him around two hours to get to Run of the Mill, his knees stinging and his feet aching. He had to be a good distance from the lair now, and those fools couldn't track him here. 

Besides, they probably didn't even know the Hidden City existed, so there. He still wasn't totally safe, but it was better than nothing. 

It was busy tonight, even if Leo wasn't sure what tonight really was. He'd lost his phone at some point and there was a distinct lack of clocks here. Clocks that he could actually read, anyway. 

Leo limped the rest of the way to a random booth and slumped into the seat, not even bothering to glance at the menu. He always got the same thing, though he doubted anyone here ever remembered. He was a regular, but a forgettable one, no doubt. 

The table was cool to the touch, making him shiver as he leaned onto it. He hadn't realized how cold it was outside. He really should have grabbed a jacket or something. 

It felt nice on his stinging palms, though, so he rested them flat on the table and let his eyes shut for just a moment. 

It only felt a like a second, but he must have spaced out, because someone was shaking his shoulder a second later.  

“ -nardo? Leonardo?”

He blinked blearily, the light piercing his eyes and making him belatedly remember his probable concussion. He shouldn't be dozing off. Probably. Thinking was hard right now. 

The person shaking him was a waiter, their dark eyes concerned and their nose twitching faintly. Right, that rabbit waiter. Leo saw him in here all the time. 

He glanced at his nametag and tried to play up his whole face-man thing. Even if flirting didn't feel like a good idea right now, this guy was very, very cute. And he was only a little delirious, so he totally meant it. 

“ Well hey there,” Leo murmured, flinching when he heard how raw his throat was. Right, hadn't eaten or drank anything all day. His eyes flicked down to the waiter's name tag, “ Yuichi, huh? Pretty name.”

The rabbit blinked, before rolling his eyes with a fond smile and pulling away from him. Leo held back a whine at the loss of warmth. He was still cold, somehow, even in the warm restaurant. But he literally just met this guy, no need to be desperate just yet. He wasn't totally on his game, but he was trying. 

“ Oh, I see what you're doing. Fine, I'll play along,” The waiter chuckled, flipping open his notepad and clearing his throat, “ Thank you, sir. What would you like to order?” 

Kinda weird, but weirder stuff was happening to him today, so he just smiled a little and gave his order. 

“ Medium pizza with extra pineapple, light ham and light banana peppers,” Leo rattled off, “ and a water, please”

The rabbit pretended to write it down. He wasn't even holding a pencil.

 Oooookay, that was weird. 

“ What kind of order is that?” Yuichi scoffed, “pretty sure only freaks order pineapple on their pizza,” 

Leo blinked in surprise, jaw agape as he stared at the waiter. He'd never been treated like this here. Usually it was just friendly smiles and decent service. 

“...what?” 

Yuichi didn't let up, chuckling, “what, can't handle a little pizza topping judgement, turtle?”

Leo stood up suddenly, head reeling and stomach swooping when he did. He steadied himself on the table and shot a glare at the waiter, “What the hell, man? Can't you tell I've had a shitty day? I was bein' friendly, the least you could do is take my order like a normal person!” 

The restaurant went quiet for a moment, the waiter's face morphing back into concern. 

“ Woah, woah- What's going on Bluebird?” Yuichi lowered his voice, and the ambient noise Of the other customers seemed to come back a moment later, but not nearly as loud as before.  

“I wanna see your manager. I don't give a shit if I sound like a Karen, you're being an asshole,” Leo whined, not daring to sit back down. Even if he felt like a strong wind might knock him over, “ All you had to do was take my fucking order, man” 

And maybe Leo was being a tad more aggressive. He didn't like being mean to waiters if he could help it, but cut him a break, he was fucking hungry and tired and in pain. And cold. He wanted to eat his pizza in peace, and this guy was being an ass for no reason. 

“Okay, okay. I'll get Hueso, just- don't move.” Yuichi slipped his notebook into his pocket and turned, hurrying for the kitchen. 

Good. He was pretty sure that was the owner. Even better. God he felt like such a fucking Karen right now, but he didn't really wanna deal with an asshole waiter judging his pizza toppings and his head hurt and- 

And he didn't have his wallet. Fuck. 

Leo stared at the table, unsure whether he just flee or just deal with the consequences of his actions. He took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. It was better than dealing with what was at the lair right now and he was so fucking hungry. 

Maybe the owner, this Hueso guy, would let him wash dishes in exchange or something. 

Minutes later, the skeleton-man-owner of the restaurant walked out from the kitchen and started for Leo's table. Leo sat back down with an exhausted sigh.

He'd been aiming for an apology, but now he was gonna pathetically beg this man for some food instead. Not his best look, but he did have money, it was just at home. With the strangers. That were no doubt pissed he'd locked them in a cage. 

“Pepino? What's going on? Yuichi said you're acting weird and-”

Leo bristled, whipping his head around to look at him. 

“ did you just call me a cucumber?” He hissed, head reeling with the motion, “what is with you all's customer service today? I'm already having a shit day and then I have to come here and be insulted? do you give all your customers terrible nicknames?”

The skeleton man blinked at him for a moment, seemingly confused at Leo's anger. Wouldn't anyone be angry if they were insulted? 

“I…Leonardo, what is wrong?” He stepped closer, hands held up placatingly, “ do we need to call your brothers or-”

“I DON’T HAVE ANY BROTHERS, WHY IS EVERYONE-” Leo slammed his fist onto the table, resting his head in the cool surface with a grimace. Everything hurt. He was so hungry. He wanted to go home. 

He let out a choked sigh, the need to cry building up into something dangerous. No, no he wasn't gonna embarrass himself any further. 

“ can…can I please just get my order…I’ll..I'll figure out someway to pay for it, I promise, I'm just so fucking hungry…” He murmured, muffled by his head on the table. 

There was a bit of hesitation, before Hyeso spoke again. 

“ of course, right away. Do not worry about paying, we will put it- we will make you a tab,” He seemed nervous. Good. Leo was gonna leave a bad yelp review. 

No, that was mean. It wasn't their fault he was having a shitty, shitty day. 

Footsteps faded back to the kitchen, but he still felt a presence. The waiter cleared his throat. 

“I’m so sorry sir, it won't happen again. I…i hope you feel better,” He too sounded hesitant, before walking away with much softer steps. 

Leo shut his eyes and kept his head down. If only for a minute. He was so tired. So hungry. Everything hurt so bad. 

He just wanted to go home and curl up in bed and forget this whole day had ever happened.

-----

I think this one is the longest part so far? Anyway surprise Leosagi in here. They aren't dating but they do be besties that flirt with each other.

I do wanna clarify that the reason he's also forgotten these two is that he sees then as 'family/family-adjacent' so yeah :) I do have more thoughts on this but yeah.

Part 1 | Part 11 | Part 13

[marvelmcumania]

SPOTIFY?

Pairing: Peter Quill x Fem Reader

Summary: You introduce Peter to Spotify.

Note:Okay my first Peter Quill drabble? IDK I tried cute and all hehe and this not a promo for spotify English is not my first language Do not repost Feel free to reblog and let me know your thoughts

Navigation | Masterlist | Marvel Masterlist |Peter Quill Masterlist

You met Peter during his welcoming party from space it was weird cause his Grandpa said they had lost him since he was a child, but weirder word had left when an alien attack happened and he was a part of them.

"So you fought a purple giant alien?" you asked him warily, drinking your mimosas

"Yes, I was a part of it" You nod giving him a smile he has been so handsome from that day you two became great friends he shared with you about his time in space and why he was kidnapped.

"So your dad wanted you and he was a freaking planet?" Peter's story got weirder day by day you both were sitting in a cafe.

He nods gulping his coffee "You heard that right after my mom died" he pauses for a moment his face changing and you keep your hand on his "And then I ran away a spaceship came and took me the person who took me was a real father to me even though I screamed David Hasselhoff is my dad" he chuckles and then continues the story of how Yondu saved him from creepy ravagers to sacrificing himself and how his father was killer of his mom.

Much later he talked about the love of his life who was sacrificed for the soul stone when questioned about the stone he replied saying it was another long story and that the present one is dead but her old version is living which again was for another story.

After having more talks Peter and you started deciding on dating giving it a try since your shitty exes. Now you both were cuddling on the sofa scrolling through your phone and showing him the latest technology although he had used the advanced one that too in space.

"Hey hey wait what is that?"

"What?"

You swipe the phone"The green icon?" he says pointing towards it.

"Ah, this" you clicked on it "This is Spotify a music app" Peter's eyes widened looking at it.

"So we don't use those music players?" You shook your head smiling at him.

"No, but we can see the lyrics also you need to buy premium" He cocks his eyebrows at you "Yep they added weird features but hey the app is fun except for them stopping being greedy."

He nods taking the phone from you and you start teaching him how to use the app he is excited that now people have no worries about the wires sticking but the fun with it the old ones was different.

Taking your hand he puts on the music and then spends the day enjoying dance and music and soon finding love for each other

[sorinethemastermind]

Only One Tent

You've heard of the only one bed trope, but what about only one tent and no bed? Aka the "Yes, you can use me as a pillow" prompt won the poll. #Sorvus

 Soren had shared a tent with Corvus before. One of the first things King Ezran had done after reclaiming the throne had been to travel across Katolis; visiting every town and hamlet, no matter how small. Soren had accompanied him, of course. It was his duty as a Crownguard to ensure that the king remained safe. And though Corvus hadn't been a member of the guard at the time, he had traveled with them anyway. Their trusty guide to the woods and wilds of Katolis.

 He was such a tree guy. It was kind of cute.

 For the first week or so of their travels Corvus had insisted on sleeping outside, saying that the stars made a better roof than a canvas tent. Soren had tried to point out that the whole thing with stars was that there was no roof, but Corvus had just rolled his eyes and claimed that he was missing the point. 

 However as they'd traveled further north the nights had become colder, and eventually even Corvus had been forced to admit that the stars didn’t trap heat as well as good old canvas. So Soren had offered to share his tent with him. And, though he'd declined the offer at first, it hadn't been long before the pair of them were pressed back to back in Soren's tent, savoring each other's warmth as the snow fell outside. It had been warm, cozy, and wonderful.

 And somehow less uncomfortable and awkward than whatever it was they were doing now.

 Soren glanced over at Corvus from his side of the tent. The other man sat on the opposite side of the small canvas room, knees drawn up to his chest and arms folded. As much distance between them as there could be in the cramped little space.

 Soren cleared his throat. "Don't you think we should be helping? I feel like we should be helping."

 "King Ezran told you to rest." Corvus reminded him, barely sparing him a glance. Soren wondered if it was because of how many times he'd had to say that, or if it was something else. Like, maybe, he didn't know; the fact that they had kissed twenty minutes ago and the king had walked in on it.

 "But don't you think-"

 "King Ezran." Corvus repeated, putting extra emphasis on the words this time." Told you to rest."

 Soren let out a loud hmph. Ezran had said a lot of things. Like how the destruction of Katolis wasn't his fault. And how there was nothing more he could have done. And how the people were lucky to have had him there when they did. And those just obviously weren't true. So then, maybe he didn't need to rest either?

 "Why don't you get some sleep?" Corvus urged him gently, shifting a little bit closer. Soren looked up at him through the curtain of blond hair that had fallen across his face. He hadn't realized his head was drooping. 

 Straightening up, he rolled his shoulders. "Nah, I'm fine."

 "You haven't slept in nearly two days."

 "But." Soren pointed out. "I have drunk more hot brown morning potion in those two days than any other. So I'm wide awake! Really, we shouldn't even be in here. We should be out helping."

 He began to reach for the tent flap, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. His friend's - boyfriend's? - grip squeezed slightly as he spoke.

 "Soren. Are you okay?"

 The question caught him off guard.

 No. He was not okay. But people didn’t usually ask so he didn’t usually have to lie. Anyway, what did it matter? He was used to it. It would be weirder if he was okay at this point. Was anybody ever really okay, anyway? 

 "Yeah. Of course." Soren flashed a wide smile in Corvus' direction. "Why wouldn't I be?"

 "Because..." Corvus trailed off, too many reasons to name them all. "I'm just worried about you."

 Soren paused, his smile faltering. Then it was replaced by a smaller, genuine one. “You don’t need to be… Corvy?”

 Something in Corvus’ expression told him this nickname wouldn't stick any better than the others he had tried. 

“Alright, not Corvy.” he said. “How about-”

 “How about you rest like the king ordered?”

 “Fineee.” Soren groaned, letting the tent flap drop from his hand. “Just for an hour.”

 He flopped back down onto the ground, feeling the corners of his armor jab into his sides, the sticks and stones littering the dirt floor of the tent poking into his back. The saying should have been sticks and stones can break my bones, and they sure as heck make it impossible to sleep too.

 For a split second he wished he had accepted the bedroll Opeli offered him, if only so that Corvus wouldn’t be stuck lying on the cold, stony ground. But the selfish thought fled just as quickly as it had come. The hospital needed them more. He would have given them this tent too, had Opeli not insisted it was too small to be of any use. 

 And it was small. Corvus laid down on the ground beside him, the forced proximity making their shoulders bump. Not that Soren was mad about that. He tried to stop wiggling, for Corvus’ sake. If he needed rest, then his friend - partner? - definitely did. He’d ridden for days just to get here, and now was worried about him? 

 But knowing that they both needed to rest didn’t seem to make sleep any more attainable, and they both spent the next ten minutes staring at the canvas roof above them, eyes wide open, elbows and shoulders gently bumping into one another each time they moved. Unable to do anything else without disturbing Corvus, Soren had to be content simply wiggling his toes. Which, he realized after a moment, were sticking slightly out of the tent. It really was small. Or he was just big. It was probably that last one. He was a prime physical specimen, after all.  

 "What are you doing?" Corvus asked, rolling onto his side to look over at Soren.

 “I, uh, nothing. I’m resting.”

 Corvus didn’t seem convinced, so Soren rolled over to face him so he could properly explain why this should count as resting and now they could get up and go help. The words died on his lips when he realized that, in this new position, their faces were mere inches apart. Corvus’s hair tickled his forehead and their noses bumped as he shifted.

 “Really?” Corvus asked, his breath warm on Soren’s face. 

 Soren reached out and poked his nose.

 “What was that for?” Corvus asked, sitting up in his surprise.

 “It was right there, what did you want me to do!?” Soren asked, rolling onto his back to look up at him, blowing the hair out of his face. 

 Corvus blinked a few times, the color in his cheeks deepening. Then he looked away. “What are we, Soren?”

 Soren’s heart dropped and he sat up, propping himself up on one elbow as he looked over at his friend of two years. “I, uh. What do you want to be?”

 He knew what he wanted. And for a second there, when they’d kissed, he’d thought maybe that was what they were now. That maybe they were a thing. But the way he’d asked that… now he wasn’t so sure.

 Corvus took a deep breath and let it out slowly before replying. “I thought that maybe… maybe it was just the adrenalin, or the rush of having survived. Of both of us being okay. But what I would like is for it to have been… more than that.”

 Corvus looked at him, his eyes kind and smiling in that way Soren loved so much.

 “Corvus. We almost die, like, every day.” he pointed out. “And we’ve never done that before.”

 “But-”

 He stopped him with a quick kiss, which became a few kisses, and he felt that addressed Corvus’ concerns pretty well. 

“So… can I tell everyone that you’re my boyfriend now?” he asked, finally drawing back. 

 Corvus lay back down on the ground, crossing his forearms behind his head as a kind of makeshift cushion. “I suppose you can.”

 “Yes!” Soren flopped onto the ground beside him, punching a fist in the air. “I guess we already sort of told Ezran.”

 “I can’t believe…” Corvus trailed off, shifting so that he could pinch the bridge of his nose with one hand as he closed his eyes. He sighed. “What’s done is done.”

 “Yep!” Soren said cheerily, not feeling a drop of regret. “He was going to find out eventually.”

 He shifted uncomfortably on the uneven, stony ground. He’d forgotten how jabby it was. A stone pressed into the back of his head and he sat up, shoved it away, and laid back down. And just as quickly sat back up. 

 “Sorry, I didn’t mean to lie on you. I can move over.”

 “That would sort of defeat the point of me putting my arm there.” Corvus said, and Soren realized that it hadn’t been an accident. Corvus scooted a little closer, stretching his arm out further towards him. 

 “You hurt your head, Soren. The last thing we need is you banging it against a rock.”

 “So… you’re saying that I should use you as a pillow.”

 “Yes. I am a pillow.”

 “And you’re a pillow… for my health?”

 “What else would it be for?”

 Soren just smiled and lay back down, resting his head gingerly on Corvus’ proffered arm. One of the perks of working out, it seemed, was that muscles could double as pillows. More people should tell you that. He would have to keep it in mind. 

 Corvus rested his other arm across his chest, fingers absently playing with a torn edge on Soren’s armor. Curled up together in the warm closeness of the tent, Soren finally felt himself relax. He hadn’t realized how on edge he’d been until it all washed away. 

 Sure, he had a lot of work to do and there were people out there that needed helping. But he could take a couple minutes to shut his eyes, and just listen to the sound of Corvus’ slow breathing beside him, and the rustle of the tent in the wind.

 Anyway, Corvus needed to rest, and if Soren got up to go and help out around camp he was sure to follow. So really, the only way to make sure that his boyfriend got some sleep was to get some himself. 

 Soren closed his eyes, letting himself relax for the first time in at least two days, probably longer, and with a stifled yawn sleep took him.

[takenbypeter]

Are you jealous?

Eddie Brock x reader

Words: 1140

Author’s note: this takes place after no way home

FLUFF BINGO

Peter.

Eddie couldn’t point out why that one name sounded so off putting to him. All he knew was that there was this new kid at your work and you’ve been talking about him for the past two minutes.

You were currently going on about how bright the kid was. How he was a hard worker which you were glad about considering your last couple coworkers have been slack offs. But that name just kept pricking the back of his brain. Well that and Venom’s voice that never shut up.

Unsure when you were planning to give him the chance to talk he interrupted you, “sorry, what did you say his name was again?”

“Oh, his name is Peter, um…Peter Parker I think it was.”

‘Peter Parker! Eddie, we know Peter Parker!’

You continue on, your voice becoming background noise while Eddie seems to be putting pieces together.

This happened for a while, his facial expression growing weirder by the second.

“Yeah he just started this week but he’s already gotten down so much…” you tilted your head sentence being interrupted by the fact that Eddie hadn’t met your eye for a minute now.

“Hey,” that seemed to get his attention, “have you been listening to me?”

“Hm? Yes of course I’m listening to you,” he said motioning for you to continue and after giving him a side glance you did.

‘Tell what we know.’

Eddie’s face scrunched up and you tilted your head pausing and wondering if he had something to say but when he didn’t, you continued.

‘Eddie we promised no more secrets.’

‘Eddie. Say it.’

Eddie brought a hand up covering his mouth, while he mumbled a shut up which Venom obviously ignored.

‘Say it. If you won’t I will.’

“Eddie? Eddie are you okay?” You asked concern clear on your face. He hasn’t said much the past few minutes and his expressions kept shifting in odd ways.

‘Don’t be a loser Eddie. Say it.’

That was the last straw for Eddie. “Can everyone just be quiet for one…second!”

That got the both of you quiet. Shifting in your seat you push yourself away from the counter table, “seems like Venom has much more interesting things to say than me, so I’ll just leave you and Venom to it then.”

They watched as you made your way to the couch only a few feet from them. You couldn’t blame Eddie for his outburst, you knew Venom was always in his ear. There was nothing he could do about that.

“Look what you did, Eddie.”

“What!? I did?!” He whisper-yelled, “no buddy, this is all you.”

“If you just said what I told you to say then we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

“No if you never got in my head we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

You heard some more back and forth, trying to block it out to give them privacy. Sure you were slightly concerned but ultimately those two usually worked things out on their own.

You heard, “okay I’m going,” followed by some footsteps and then Eddie plopped himself on the other end of the couch.

He didn’t make any movements he just sat there.

“I’m not going to bite, you can come closer,” you said, refusing to look his way yet.

“Right.” He scooched over a tiny bit.

You two sat there for a moment, heads turned to the screen and you were beginning to wonder if he’d actually say something anytime soon. But you didn’t get to wonder too long.

“I’m sorry,” he started, already positioning his body towards you. “That outburst was in no way directed towards you.”

“I know that Eddie, it’s okay.”

You sit there again before you finally ask curious what all the fuss was about anyway, “so what was that all about?” You question, pointing towards the counter where you all were seated just a moment ago.

Eddie pushes his lips into a line and brings his eyebrows together causing a wrinkle to crease in the center of his forehead.

“What were you jealous or something?“ you tease causing him to give a little laugh. “No. I’m not jealous.”

‘We are a little.’

“No. No.”

He pauses again and your curiosity builds up, “so…what is it then?”

Letting out a breath he decides it’s better to tell you now than have you sit here mad at him for not telling you. “Okay, so remember when I told you that I was like sucked into a portal into another universe and you made that face, the one that makes me feel like I’m crazy.”

He paused and pointed at your face, “that’s it, you’re doing it right now.”

You shook your head quickly, shaking off your expression, “no I’m not. Go on.”

“Well when I was sucked into that…other place, there was a guy. His face was everywhere, on tv all over the news, he was sorta a good guy—a hero. He had superpowers and everything. Well that guy—that kid was named Peter Parker.”

Although you tried your best to conceal your expressions you couldn’t help but have your eyes widen at the revelation.

He nodded before continuing, “but it seemed like the whole world turned on him for killing one guy is what I understood.”

Eddie takes a moment to think and when you’re about to ask him something he starts abruptly, “—and if he’s the good guy and he’s a kid and people are turning on him for killing one guy, a bad guy I would assume, what does that make me?”

You angle your body laying a comforting hand on his leg while he goes on. “Venom eats people—granted it’s bad people, but it’s still people,” he faces you expression torn, “am—am I the bad guy?”

You barely wait a beat before protesting his worries, “hey don’t start with that. Look at me,” to make your point you gently reach out and press your hands against his scruff that covered cheeks his skin feeling warm against yours.

“You are not the bad guy here,” his eyes are all big and wide while he looks up at you from his brown hues. “What Venom does is…unorthodox yes but you are not bad. Eddie you have your own problems—just as any one—but one word I would never ever use to describe you is bad. You do your best with what you have.”

Eddie’s looking at you one moment and then the next his forehead is pushed against your shoulder.

“Better?” You ask as he responds with a nod against you.

After a moment of just resting like that he mumbles out, “thank you, I needed to hear that…and I’m sorry for yelling earlier.”

“Yeah that was uncalled for,” you joke and he smiles against your body, thankful for being so fortunate to have you by his side.

[emeritus-fuckers]

Random idea as long as I'm allowed to make two requests, if not delete/ignore this, but the papas, nihil and seestor playing video games with reader!

nihil is one of the papas, you don't have to specify you want him too lol - rat

Papas and Sister Imperator playing video games with their s/o

Primo (he/him)

He doesn't really play himself, but he's very willing to watch.

He likes two types of games: the ones where you get to build, farm and make friends (The Sims series, Minecraft, Stardew Valley) and games where choices matter and there's a mystery to be solved (Detroit: Become Human, Baldur's Gate 3, Life is Strange).

If you play games where you get to build, he asks if you'd mind letting him give you design ideas, as he was always interested in architecture. Your in-game houses never looked better, he's an excellent architect.

He also memorizes all the gifts and recipees from Stardew Valley for you. Considers it a good brain excercise.

With the other kind of games, he is fascinated by all the options they offer and the concept of morality.

Although he does think Detroit: Become Human got way out of hand with the plot. It was one of the few times you heard him mutter cursewords in Italian.

He does enjoy Neil Newbom's performance in games, though. He's the only reason Primo bought you Resident Evil: Village and insisted you play together.

Secondo (he/him)

Well, he does like classic arcades.

And surprisingly, it doesn't take long for him to grow familiar with a joystick. So if you have a console, he's pretty good at it after a few days.

He's weirdly good and Doom. It's very concerning how good he is at Doom.

And MovieStarPlanet. This man spent so much money on MovieStarPlanet it's insane.

He needs his character to look fabulous, after all. He will actually make it a point of pride that his character is dressed better than yours.

He plays as a female character, by the way.

Naturally, he played the Barbie games, too. His favorite is The Barbie Diaries: High School Mystery.

Terzo (he/they)

Terzo is rather decent at classic platformers, like the original Mario Brothers game or the old Sonic games.

You show them a dating simulator and the bastard is obsessed.

He gets a new phone just to have more dating simulator games on his phone.

This is all fine and dandy until he he gets his hands on Mystic Messenger and stayed up at nights to play the night chatrooms.

On maximum volume. On maximum brightness.

Needless to say, Omega was not amused. Neither were you.

It gets even weirder when Terzo starts throwing around phrases in Korean that they learned from the game.

Korean with a very thick Italian accent.

Omega is losing his mind, especially after Terzo, having not gotten enough sleep one night, accidentally tried to perform a ritual from the Arcana, rather than the one he was supposed to.

You both end up on technology detox as Omega insists it's crucial for you two to touch grass.

Copia (he/him)

We all remember him playing Driving Miss Daisy.

We also all remember that he sucked at playing Driving Miss Daisy.

He's good at co-op games, though!

Like Minecraft or Raft. Or even Stardew Valley (that one mod is forever in my heart).

Especially Minecraft. Copia yearns for the mines.

You find a bigger hill or a mountain in the game? He insists to dig a room in it as your first base.

You leave for a bathroom break and suddenly Copia's wearing diamond armor and you have a giant underground empire.

You know he didn't cheat, he doesn't even know how to input cheats in the game.

He's the same in Stardew Valley. He was at the bottom of the mine with the original pickaxe and a crappy sword in less than a week in-game.

Science can't explain how he did that. Or why the mines is the only thing he's good at in those games. He sucks at everything else, he is a mines-only boy.

Old Nihil (he/him)

He is not going anywhere near the computer after Swiss and Sunshine showed him Five Nights At Freddy's.

He is not risking that shit again.

He will sit in the corner of the room and sulk if you play video games while he's around.

Young Nihil (he/him)

Even in his youth, he was older than video games and not very smart.

He gets way too distressed about the games so you put him on a gaming ban for the sake of both his and your own sanity.

He does like watching you play, though. Especially as he cuddles up to you.

He keeps complimenting you while you play. He's proud of you!

Young Sister Imperator (she/her)

She would not have the time.

As much as she loves you, it's almost always a no.

She doesn't mind if you play something while you're together, she's just... not gonna have the time to actually play.

Although considering it's the 60s, it's probably more likely to assume she just hears about you going on about arcades.

Which she doesn't mind, even if the games seem completely absurd to her.

Old Sister Imperator (she/her)

She will die of embarassment if anyone finds out, but she's a sucker for old Pokémon games.

She even has the first generation Pokédex memorized.

You leard that by accident while looking for mods for Minecraft and she automatically quotes the Bulbasaur Pokédex entry as you gush over the cute creature.

She's embarassed to say the least. You totally use it as blackmail on her.

And pay for it in the bedroom.

(Step on me in those red heels of yours Seestor please.)

~

Written by Nosferatu.

[starmieknight]

Stars Align

Dipper Vs. Manliness

17 Again AU: After a disastrous first day with the twins, Stan swears to do better as an uncle. But fate loves playing tricks on him and the magic 8-ball in the attic is more than it seems.

Now on top of having a pair of twelve year olds around the house while he tries to finish the portal and bring his brother home, Stan has to deal with being back in his seventeen year old body! Summer has never been weirder in Gravity Falls.

Prologue, The Legend of the Gobblewonker, Headhunters Pt. 1, Headhunters Pt. 2, Headhunters Pt. 3, The Hand That Rocks the Mabel Pt. 1, The Hand That Rocks the Mabel Pt. 2, The Inconveniencing (previous)

Special thank you to @disregardedblasphemy for beta reading! You're awesome <3

At one point, Stan had a bit of a crush on Lazy Susan. She’d been real cute and pretty sweet back when he first met her and she hadn’t been too upset about what happened to her eye. As the years passed, she was just one of the few single people left in his age range. That he actually liked, anyway.

Who knew so many people got married when you got old!

Now with his baby face in the way, Stan just didn’t feel right flirting with her like he normally did.

Using his ‘charming young man’ powers on her though―!

“You do split plates, right?” Stan asked, ducking his head shyly and peering up at Susan through his lashes. “We’re just poor, hungry kids on a budgeted allowance…”

Susan laughed and pinched his cheek.

“You’re just like your daddy, aren’t you? We always make an exception for Big Stan ― I can do it for Little Stan, too!”

Stan chuckled awkwardly, ignoring the ‘daddy’ comment, and offered the waitress a blinding smile.

Somewhere behind him, he heard a shutter sound and some muffled giggles.

“Tambry!” Mabel whispered, practically climbing over the back of the booth to speak to the girl on the other side. “Send me that for my scrapbook!”

Stan did his best to ignore that. And the fact that Tambry was still taking pictures of him when he wasn’t looking. Instead, he just pushed on with his order, ignoring Mabel’s protests that she wanted pancakes.

He could have made those himself if she'd wanted them so much!

Dipper, however, was more sympathetic to his sister’s plight.

“Don’t worry, guys!” he said confidently. “Pancakes are on me. I’m gonna win them by beating that manliness tester!”

“Manliness tester?” Stan asked blankly, remembering the machine that had been in the diner forever.

“Beating?” Mabel asked incredulously before bursting into laughter.

And Stan might have laughed with her if he hadn’t seen how scrappy the boy really was,  getting into fist fights with psychotic nine year olds and breaking into buildings. Still, the boy was built like a noodle and not in the typically stocky manner most Pines boys were. He didn’t even have their trademark nose, his mother’s genetics probably the cause for that. The color of it was right on point, though.

“Hold on there, sweetheart.” Stan put a hand on Mabel’s head to quiet her down, but wasn’t quite able to stop the snort that came with the mental image of Dipper beating the tester. “Your brother’s not as geeky as he seems, sometimes. I wanna see him try! Besides, it’ll be a good chance for me to see where he is before I start yous two on boxing lessons!”

“You’re going to teach us how to box?” Dipper asked skeptically.

Stan’s grin widened and he flexed his arms, thick cords of muscle visible even under his baby fat.

“You’re lookin’ at the best boxer from Glass Shard Beach! Goldmill Gym’s got all my old trophies lining the walls!”

At least, it had forty years ago. Old Man Nicky was surely dead now and probably had been pissed enough to throw out Stan’s medals when he’d disappeared into the night. Besides, the man had been friends with Pa ― Stan wouldn’t be surprised if the medals were melted down to make gold chains.

You’re a bum, Stanny. But you can take a hit and give ‘em back twice as hard.

Mabel latched onto Stan’s bicep, giggling wildly as he curled his arms a few times, threatening to drop her back into the booth.

“Hmmm,” Dipper hummed, eyeing Stan’s arms thoughtfully. “...okay. I mean, how different could it be from kickboxing?”

Stan grinned at him. “That’s the spirit, kiddo! Now ― go win us some pancakes!”

Dipper beamed at him.

It didn’t last long, however, the boy failing miserably and running out in the face of Manly Dan showing him up. Stan didn’t think the man meant anything by it. He probably just wanted more pancakes or was trying to feed what he thought was a bunch of hungry kids. He was just like that sometimes. Blunt and lacking tact.

Stan was the same.

He looked between his plate and the empty doorframe, conflicted.

Was he supposed to chase after the kid or give him space so he could lick his wounds?

Moses, he missed Old Nicky ― the man would already have a diet planned to help put muscle on the kid or have him chasing chickens and bench pressing hogs. He had a weird way of training his boxers, but he’d made Stan quick on his feet and able to find a weak spot on guys with more fat rolls than average.

“He’ll be fine,” Mabel rested her hand gently on Stan’s arm. Her smile was familiar, but it didn’t really meet her eyes. She almost looked guilty.

“Of course, he will.” Stan smiled back at her half-heartedly. “He’s a Pines. We always end up alright.”

Mabel didn’t look convinced, but she let it go for a moment. She began eating her pancakes, but some of her enthusiasm was lost.

“... do you think I shouldn’t have laughed at him?”

Stan winced, hearing the hurt in her voice. “Probably didn’t help…”

Mabel deflated, losing some of her usual vibrancy. “He’s really serious about becoming a man. Growing chest hair and wishing his voice would stop cracking…”

“People make it into a big deal.” Stan shrugged, remembering how he’d waited for those body changes a lifetime ago. There’d been the awkward days with acne and voice cracks, not to mention realizing he could have a crush on nearly anyone who showed him a smidgeon of positive attention. He could only sympathize with how Dipper was feeling, especially with Stan around in his current state. The kid was probably wondering when he was going to start shooting up and filling out like his uncle. Shermie and Alec were both built big as well. Dipper probably was feeling left out. “He’s gotta figure out his new place and his body’s going through some… changes. Speaking of, please tell me your mom has had The Talk with you…”

Mabel snorted, a gleam returning to her eyes.

“Don’t worry, Grunkle Stan.” she snickered. “Mom told me everything to expect last year.”

Stan sagged in relief. “Just let me know if you need… any feminine products. Or chocolate. Or just tell Wendy and I’ll give her the money.”

Moses, was it hot in here or were his ears on fire. He never expected to have this conversation. Why did it have to be so awkward?! He’d had a mother, for crying out loud ― and a girlfriend who’d been very vocal about what cramps and mood swings did to her.

Mabel just laughed at him again, bouncing back to her normal self with an ease he envied.

“Do you think he’ll be alright once he’s done with puberty?” she asked thoughtfully, trying her straw wrapper into a neat bow. “I mean, you seem alright going through it a second time.”

Stan snorted at that. “Nah, I was pretty much set as soon as I hit sixteen the first time. The only thing that stuck around for a while was the acne. That didn’t really go away until my thirties.”

“I thought that went away after you turned twenty!” Mabel exclaimed, her face twisting with horror.

“Nope!” Stan propped his chin up on his hand, leaning close to give her a good look at the bumps on his chin. “Maybe it won’t be so bad once you get over the hump of the hormone changes, but pimples’ll pop up at random forever! But your face thingies helped mine the other day.”

“We should get you some pimple patches for the little ones!” Mabel suggested, poking a red spot on Stan’s cheek. He hissed at the little jolt of pain it caused and she pulled her hand away, expression apologetic. “Ohh! We should do another spa day!”

“Spa day?” a somewhat familiar voice asked from behind them. Tambry popped up over the back of their seat, her eyes fixed on her phone. “Count me in.”

“Me, too!” Wendy announced, sliding into the booth across from them. “We should get Stan some better clothes, too. He’s been wearing the same pair of jeans for weeks.”

“I wash them!” he protested indignantly.

“You’re gonna wear them out like that.” the redhead pointed out easily. “Also, you smell like an old man. Switch your cologne.”

“I don’t wear cologne to work. That’s just aftershave.” He rubbed his chin with a grimace, resenting the fact that his facial hair had been so patchy as a teenager. It looked weird if he didn’t shave every morning. Back when he was old, his five-o’clock shadow had been fine enough for tours ― now he just looked stupid.

“We should get him a jacket that fits!” Mabel suggested, bouncing in her seat with her thoughts a million miles away. Probably lost in some mental mall. “And a comb!”

“I wouldn’t mind getting some gel,” Stan admitted, running a hand over his unruly curls. “S’how I used to wear it.”

Wendy tilted her head, considering his face. “I can see it. Like those guys in Grease.”

Stan snapped his fingers and pointed at her with a grin. “Exactly!”

“Let’s go to the mall!” Mabel shrieked, overcome with excitement. She shook Stan’s arm, moving her body more than his bicep and looking like she was being electrocuted as a result. Or like a fish flopping on the floor of his boat. “Mall Day! Mall Day!”

“I’m not getting out of this, am I?” Stan groaned.

“Nope!” Mabel and Wendy wore identical expressions, like lionesses about to pounce on some poor, old zebra. Tambry offered a thumbs up from the other side of the booth wall. ____________________________________________________________

“This was a terrible idea.”

Now, Stan was no stranger to shopping with a teenage girl. He’d dated Carla McCorkle for a while before she was stolen away by that mind-controlling musician. He was quite familiar with wandering from store-to-store while a girl ooh-ed and ahh-ed over things without making a single purchase.

He hated customers who did that and he hated being part of a group that did that.

“Grunkle Stan, this is an essential part of shopping!” Mabel punctuated her statement with a pointed slurp of her iced coffee. De-caf, of course. She was already energetic enough.

He responded with a pointed sip of his own, secretly conceding that iced coffee was good. Especially all dolled up with fancy syrups and whipped cream.

Way too expensive, though.

“C’mon, man.” Wendy rolled her eyes fondly and threw the jacket she and Tambry had been fawning over at his face. “Chill out and leave everything to us. All you gotta do is put on what we tell you and say if you like it or not.”

“I was promised hair gel.” Stan muttered petulantly. He felt the soft lining of the jacket, an old-styled bomber like the one Ford had worn as a kid, and noted that it was soft. “Can’t I just pick some jeans and go?”

“Grunkle Stan, you need to learn about style!” Mabel exclaimed, stars in her eyes. “Now that you’re not a gross old man, this is the perfect opportunity to work on my ‘Convince Dipper To Wear More Than One Outfit’ powerpoint!”

Stan stared at her blankly. “What’s that got to do with dressin’ me up?”

“Because!” Mabel exclaimed exasperatedly. “You guys look a lot alike now! Once he sees how good you look, he’ll be inspired to do the same!”

“She has a point.” Wendy shrugged. “You’ve had more women hitting on you these past few weeks than you’ve had my entire life.”

“You’re totally hot.” Tambry confirmed flatly, briefly moving her phone away from her face to show them some kind of website. There were a lot of pictures of him and it made his skin crawl. So did the comments, most filled with the little picture things from Mabel’s ‘motivational sticker pack’.

“Ugh!” Stan shuddered at the girl’s comment and threw his hands up defensively. “I― I don’t even know what to do with all that. It’s… It’s weird.”

His eyes darted around in search of an escape route and he bolted out the door with the jacket in tow. He liked it, but he’d never admit it. Or pay for it.

Stan yanked the tags off, casually dropping them in a nearby trashcan before shrugging the jacket on. Ooooh, it had nice big pockets. Perfect for shoplifting!

“Well, if it isn’t Stanley Pines.”

Stan stiffened at the voice behind him, mind racing as he tried to place it. 

Don’t panic, you’ve been introducing yourself as Stanley the Second for weeks! This is just the con beginning to pay off…

He turned, a conman’s smile curling his lip, before a shocked scream left him.

“My eyes! My poor eyes!”

It was improbable. It was impossible! It had been forty years!

But against all the odds, there was a familiar face from Glass Shard Beach in Gravity Falls.

Old Man Nicky stared at him, his expression as sour and unimpressed as ever, another generation’s worth of wrinkles making him look like a particularly grumpy bulldog. He was still wearing the same old red sweater over a gray tracksuit, thin wisps of white hair peeking out from beneath a black beanie.

It really was his old boxing coach. Really old boxing coach.

“Shouldn’t you be dead?” Stan asked before he could stop himself. A cane shot out and clocked him in the shin, making him yelp and topple over. Ugh, just like the old days.

“Shouldn’t you? Your ma told me you crashed your car into a ditch and burnt up. Guess you just got mixed up in some freaky magic shit out here. Probably somethin’ ta do with that brother of yours.”

Stan winced at the relatively spot-on observation, rubbing his leg as he looked up at Nicky. The man had shrunk over the years, but he never lost the ability to make Stan feel like some scrawny little kid.

“What’re you doin’ in Gravity Falls of all places?” he asked, not bothering with how the man knew about magic. You couldn’t live here without tripping over a gnome every other Tuesday.

“Got myself a grandson who married a selkie. Their kids like the cold and I’m mostly retired. Thought I’d spend the rest of my twilight years with them.” Nicky shrugged before piercing Stan with a stern look. “Thought about lookin’ ya up, but you were too busy runnin’ around and pretendin’ t’ be Stanford. You’re a bum, Stannie. Your impersonations suck.”

Stan straightened up with a frown, properly offended now.

“I’ll have you know,” he sniffed, tucking his hands behind his back and looking down his nose at the old man. His gruff voice smoothed into something more sophisticated and refined, the Jersey accent melting away like butter beneath a summer sun. “That I still do a fantastic impersonation of my brother… Hypothesis! Quantum physics! Exponential!”

Nicky chuckled at him, wrinkled face sagging as it softened fondly.

“That’s our Stanford.” he sighed, turning away. “Now, c’mon back to the gym and fill me in on what happened. Y’not doin’ this without good reason. Yous two hated being mixed up.”

Stan hesitated, looking over his shoulder for the girls. They were a few stores back and a few bags heavier, their eyes scanning the mall in search of him.

“I’ll have to raincheck ya on that, old man.” he hurried to say, voice returning to normal and pitched low. Secretive. “I got a couple of add-ons who aren’t exactly in on it. They can’t know.”

Nicky frowned at him, tilting his head so he could squint at the girls as they approached. Mabel had spotted them, her face lighting up as she rushed forward with a grin.

“Well,” Nicky chuckled as she caught up to them. “This one looks just like you. Braces ‘n all. She box any?”

“Grunkle Stan’s gonna teach me and my brother!” Mabel proclaimed proudly before blinking in confusion at the old man. She shrugged and offered Nicky her hand. “Hi, I’m Mabel! Are you one of my uncle’s old man friends?”

“More like his uncle.” Nicky clasped her hand gently. “You can call me Papa Nick.”

“Okay!” Mabel agreed before Stan could protest.

“Oh, c’mon old man!” he huffed. “You never let me call you Uncle Nick!”

The old man smacked him with the cane again. “That’s cause you’re a bum, Stannie. ‘Sides ― Filbrick woulda had kittens if he caught you boys goin’ soft on me.”

“Wait, you knew Grunkle Stan as a kid?!” Mabel gushed, her hands squishing her cheeks. “Oh Em Gee ― you’re like, super old! Do you have pictures of baby Stan?!”

“Course I do!” Nicky snorted. “And all’a his old trophies. Tell ya what ― yous guys come for dinner and I’ll dig ‘em out.”

“Nicky!” Stan hissed, panic seizing his chest.

The old man bopped him with the cane once more, gently this time.

“Don’t get your panties in a bunch, kid.” Nicky gave him a pointed look. “I’ll keep all your embarrassing secrets in storage. For now.”

Stan held his gaze a moment longer, praying that the old man would keep his word, before nodding stiffly.

“Fine. Where’re ya stayin’ these days?”

Nicky smirked, smug with victory, and shoved a business card into Stan’s hand.

“Six o’clock. Come to the back door and don’t be late or you’re washin’ towels.”

“I don’t work for you anymore, old man!” Stan shouted after him as he and Mabel rejoined the rest of the girls. “I ain’t washin’ nothin’!”

Nicky just laughed at him and continued on his way. ___________________________________________________________

“What happened to you, kid?” Stan asked in bewilderment as Dipper trudged into the house, twigs and leaves sticking out of his hair.

The boy sighed and flopped down on the floor by Stan’s armchair.

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” the boy mumbled into the carpet.

“Good.” Stan said awkwardly, trying to think of a subject change to get out of another ‘feelings’ talk.

“It’s just these half-man, half-bull humanoids were hanging out with me…” Dipper blurted out suddenly, shooting up with an annoyed expression.

“Here we go.” Stan rolled his eyes. He frowned as the boy’s words reached his brain. “Wait, you talkin’ about those dumb Manotaurs? Those guys are jerks!”

“I know, right?!” Dipper threw his hands up, relieved to have another person on his side. “They wanted me to do this really tough, horrible thing ― but it just wasn’t right. So, I said no.”

The boy deflated, looking as lost as Stan felt after spending too long reading his brother’s journals.

Stan reached down, easily knocking Dipper’s hat off, and ruffled the boy’s tangled curls.

“You were your own man and you stood up for yourself.” he said firmly. Dipper looked up at him in surprise. Stan grinned at him. “You did what was right even though no one agreed with you. Sounds pretty manly to me, but whadda I know?”

Dipper smiled at him, regaining some of the life that he’d lost during his all-day workout. His brows raised as he took in Stan’s new jeans and T-shirt, the outfit capped off by his new bomber jacket.

“Hey, you look good. I like your jacket. And you finally got hair gel?”

“Thanks.” Stan thumbed the collar of his jacket, remembering the one Ford had worn when they were kids. Which, now that he was thinking about it…

“How’s about you go get ready?” Stan nudged the boy with his foot, toes digging into Dipper’s ribs and making him giggle. “We’re headin’ to a friend of mine’s for dinner and you stink.”

Dipper’s face fell. “Do we really have time for me to shower? I― I mean, is it really necessary?”

“Yep.” Stan said firmly, nudging the boy again. “Go ― use soap this time.”

The boy groaned dramatically, but headed upstairs anyway.

He could hear Mabel in the attic, singing along to some pop song at the top of her lungs. Once he heard the shower cut on, Stan bolted for the vending machine.

It was risky as hell, but he’d done worse lately.

All of Ford’s old things that might have given away his identity were stored in the basement. Six-fingered gloves, old home movies and pictures ― they all lived in boxes in the observation room. Along with a trunk of keepsakes that Ma had sent after Pa died and the pawnshop closed. She’d moved in with Shermie those last few years before her death and wanted ‘Stanford’ to have all of the twins’ old things. Probably in hopes he’d use them with a son of his own one day.

And in the trunk, there was a little old jacket with patched elbows that had seen the boys through many an adventure.

Ford’s bomber jacket.

Stan lifted it out of the trunk reverently, like one would a precious artifact. It was soft beneath his fingers, the fabric worn and the fur lining a bit matted. The elbow patches were fraying and it smelled of mothballs and old books.

He buried his face in the lining with a sniffle, wondering why he and Ford had ever drifted apart in the first place.

Stan knew he was a screw-up, but he still had no idea what he’d done to make Ford want to move across the country to get away from him.

“When did you stop liking me, Poindexter?” he sighed, tucking the jacket beneath his arm. He checked the security cameras before heading back upstairs. He’d had plenty of time to get the jacket and hide it in his room before Dipper and Mabel were ready for dinner.

No worries.

____________________________________________________________

“Uh, did you just see that, dude?” Soos whispered to Wendy, his eyes wide with shock.

“Secret door to a secret basement in the Mystery Shack?” Wendy confirmed, her normally cool facade beginning to crack. “Yes. Yes, I did.”

“Good to know.”

[blushweddinggowns]

Eddie never imagined that he could be this happy in Hawkins, Indiana.

He knew the first love thing was supposed to be intense, but this was beyond his wildest dreams. Amazing enough for him to want to scream from the rooftops about how Eddie fucking Munson got Steve Harrington to fall in love with him. But he didn’t, purely because Steve asked him not to. 

Or at least not yet. 

It made sense. He wasn’t out to anyone but Robin. He didn’t want to hear the entire party’s opinions, let alone all of the questions everyone would have. One wrong word in the right ear could easily get back to his parents, something that Steve was planning on avoiding for as long as possible. 

Though… Eddie was pretty damn sure that Wayne knew. He hadn’t said anything but the way he looked at them sometimes…with that all knowing little smile. Like a constant joke that no one else was in on but him. Then again, if Eddie thought about it for longer than five seconds, it would be weirder for Wayne to think they weren’t together. You can’t have a platonic male friend in your bed every night for almost half a year without people making their own connections. Making out with Steve in front of him would be less shocking than bringing a girl home at this point. Still, Eddie didn’t tell Steve. Not when he thought they were being “sneaky.” He’d let him exist in their imagined secret bubble for a little while longer. 

Even if it was getting harder to hide by the day. 

It turned out that despite his lack of experience, Eddie fucking loved being a boyfriend. Particularly, Steve’s boyfriend. He loved it so much that he couldn’t help but find himself fantasizing about dumb shit. 

Eddie could see it. A future together. What it would be like to officially move in with him, a place all their own. Coming home to him everyday. Showing him off, somewhere far, far away from here. Being together for years, years that could turn to decades, decades that could end in forever.

It was too early for Eddie to be this locked in when it came to Steve. It was stupid and Eddie knew it, but that didn’t make the thoughts go away. 

Eddie never thought he’d be one of these people. He used to be the type to laugh at the hopeless romantics. But now here he was, daydreaming about the two of them riding off into the sunset together. 

He was down bad. Real fucking bad. Like a damn movie. If anything, it was starting to get a little scary. The intensity of it all. His feelings weren’t calming down with time. They were only getting worse.

He just… loved Steve. He loved being around him. He loved listening to him. He loved his silly jokes, his big hair, his poorly hidden sweetness, his bed head. He loved it all.

So, Eddie found a balance. Little ways to get his Steve fixes without being too clingy. But still guaranteeing he wouldn’t go a day without seeing him. Night time just wasn’t enough. So if Steve had a long day shift, Eddie started making a habit of making lunch for him. He didn’t see a reason why not when he was usually just bumming it at home anyway. 

He liked doing it. Liked it enough to learn how to cook some shit outside of mac and cheese. Nothing crazy. But a few weeks in he had to admit, he had become a god at making good sandwiches. 

It helped that it always made Steve blush so pretty when Eddie dropped it off for him. Sweet enough for that one face to put Eddie into a good mood for the rest of the day. 

He didn’t think he was making it too obvious that they were deliriously in love at his job. Even if he could feel Robin staring holes in the back of his head every time she was there to witness it. Eddie had learned to ignore it. Until the day he couldn't.

It was his own fault for lingering after dropping Steve’s lunch off. He had gotten too caught up in the horror section, too busy looking over the new releases to realize she was sneaking up on him. 

“So can I be clued in on the schedule for you two eye-fucking or will it always be a surprise?” He heard her pipe up behind him, “The latter means you’ll have to start providing compensation.”

from the newest chapter of this fic

[probably-writing-x]

Armour - Chapter Two

Rafe!AU x Reader

Summary: Having your heart broken was one thing. But Rafe watching somebody break your heart? That was something nobody could prepare for.

Warnings: Cursing, mentions/hints of a toxic relationship

Word Count: 3K

Author’s Note: I LOVE writing this series and this whole concept, I feel like I could carry it on forever - once again, this chapter was inspired by this gif so I feel like this might be an ongoing theme for this series <3 Thank you for the love y’all.

After that night, you hadn’t thought of James. You and Rafe had returned home and, when Sarah asked how your night was, you’d told her you’d slept better than you had done in days. She’d probably tell you that you were crazy for going round to the house, and tell Rafe he was stupid for getting himself involved. She’d tell him this was too much like the old Rafe, the one that craved the power and the fights, and that he wasn’t like that anymore. But you knew that little spark in Rafe would always stay - for the few people that he cared enough about to make sure that nothing bad happened to them. And you’d seen that last night, the way he’d spoken about you; someone fighting your corner.

“Good morning,” Rafe groans as he walks through to the kitchen, dragging a hand over his face.

He’s wearing a pair of joggers that hang low on his hips, accentuating the V-lines around the bottom of his abs, his torso visible for the few seconds as he struggles to pull a hoodie over his head.

“Is it even still morning?” Sarah laughs, pouring out another cup of coffee and handing it over to him.

“I had a busy day yesterday,” He rolls his eyes, “You know, travelling and all that.”

He sits down at the kitchen island beside you and offers you a small smile just before his lips touch the coffee mug, his eyes warm in the steam coming from the cup.

“Did you get up in the night, Rafe?” Sarah asks, settling a hand over her growing bump and leaning back against the kitchen counter.

He frowns over his coffee and shakes his head, “Nope, slept like a baby.”

“That’s weird,” Sarah frowns too, “I could’ve sworn I heard the door open.”

“Probably just baby brain,” He clears his throat, “I’m going to hop in the shower.”

Sarah watches with a suspicious squint in her eyes as he disappears, “I swear he gets weirder every time I see him.”

You laugh and look down as you feel a smile spread onto your face, you’d have to thank him later for last night.

Sarah comes over and takes the seat that Rafe had been sat in, shifting herself so that she’s facing you, “So, I need you to be honest with me, how are you feeling?”

You turn so that you’re facing her too and Sarah stretches out her hands for you to take, both of you squeezing into the contact, “I’m okay, so much better than I was. It’s just weird, you know? For nine years he was the person I told everything to. Even when we weren’t living together or anything, I’d wake up and send him a text or call him before I went to sleep. I keep getting this weird instinct to just reach for my phone because I feel like I haven’t heard from him and then I realise that… I don’t know, I won’t.”

She nods reassuringly but doesn’t say anything else, letting you continue.

“I just want to know why,” You laugh a little, “Not in a weird ‘what’s wrong with me’ kind of way. But just… it was nine years of my life, you know?”

“Okay, I maybe shouldn’t be suggesting this because I think, as the best friend, I’m meant to tell you to stay far away from him, but maybe it would do you some good to meet up with James and talk it all through. Do you think?”

After last night? You weren’t sure he’d ever want to see you again, especially if he thought Rafe would be with you again.

“Yeah, maybe, we’ll have to talk about everything at some point, I guess I-“

You’re cut off as your phone pings on the counter and a message notification comes up from James again.

I think we need to talk after yesterday. I’ll pick you up and we can go for coffee if you’re free?

Sarah eyes the message too, “After yesterday?”

“Right, yeah, with the box and stuff, I thought that was his final straw or something,” You look down so that she can’t realise that you’re lying, “Um, I better go and get ready, tell him that I’ll be free.”

You squeeze Sarah’s hand as you leave, hurrying up the stairs as if running from the conversation. She probably wouldn’t be too mad if you told her about last night, but she’d almost definitely tell you that it was a bad idea, that Rafe is a bad influence even all these years later. It was the same way you didn’t tell her about the night at the beach with Rafe, or the countless other nights like that - she’d tell you Rafe was her brother but it wasn’t a good idea. And you weren’t exactly ready to hear that.

You go into the bedroom that had become your own and close the door behind you, just as there is the sound of the ensuite door opening. Rafe steps out, a towel wrapped around his waist, beads of water dripping around his shoulders, dipping down from his soaked hair.

“Oh shit sorry I-“ Rafe comes to a halt, glancing up from his phone in his hand, “The shower in the other bathroom is terrible so I just… I thought you were downstairs so I-“

“Rafe, it’s fine,” You laugh, “Not anything I haven’t seen before.”

He fakes a gasp, “You’ll embarrass me, (Y/L/N).”

You roll your eyes, “I don’t think anything embarrasses you, Cameron.”

He chuckles and drags a hand through his wet hair, “So, I was thinking we should get out of the house today. I miss the beach when I’m in New York, one of the few things to miss about this place.”

“I actually,” You clear your throat, “I have something to do today.”

Rafe frowns for a second, “Ooh, mysterious,” He stretches out a hand and pokes at your side, “What are you doing?”

“I just,” You shake your head, “I have a meeting, you know, to sort out the house and stuff.”

“Oh, okay, cool,” He nods, “Well, be back by sunset and we can go for a swim. Sound good?”

“Sounds good,” You return, “Now please go and get some clothes on.”

“Keep it in your pants, (Y/N), you know you love me,” He wiggles his brows, exaggeratively swaying his hips as he walks out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Your eyes settle over the room, landing on the box still sat beside your bed. The rest of it was closed away now, but the shot glass and now your toy giraffe, sat on your nightstand. You smile a little at the sight, thinking only to yourself. It felt like a couple of brightened moments in a week you were sure wasn’t going to get any sense of light. Today would likely be another darkness, but you’d be coming home to another bright place.

~~~

Within the hour, you’re showered, changed and ready to leave, sat on the edge of your bed waiting for James to text. Twelve minutes after he’d said he’d be there, he texts to say he’s outside. You grab your jacket and hurry down the stairs, glancing back to see Rafe and John B stood outside in the garden. John B is pointing something out and he’s holding a plank of wood in one hand as if he’s preparing to build something. Rafe nods along and seemingly agrees, laughing at something John B says that seems to brighten up his eyes. Your heart sinks a little at the guilt that comes with the view, knowing he would hate to think of where you were going right now. But you open the front door and close it quickly behind you, hurrying down to the car waiting with the engine still running.

You open the door and climb in quietly, feeling oddly far when you don’t have to lean over to kiss him in greeting.

“Hey,” You breathe out when he doesn’t make any move to say it first.

“Hi,” James glances at you, “Where do you want to go?”

“Are there really many options?” You frown, settling your hands into your lap and picking at the skin beside your thumb to give you something to focus on.

James chuckles a little and moves to reverse out of the driveway, “Fair point, let’s go.”

He drives you the short distance across the island to the one coffee shop that anyone actually used here. It’s near enough empty as you step through, thanking James for holding the door open for you. You order your regular and he orders his, sitting at a table in the far corner as if sheltering yourself from the world.

“So, I would ask how you’ve been but that feels weird when I saw you yesterday,” James comments, dragging his finger around the rim of the coffee cup on the table, “But how have you been?”

You swallow down a sip of your drink, too hot so it scratches your throat as it goes, “I’m okay, and I’m sorry about last night.”

He shakes his head, “Look, it’s your house too (Y/N), at least until we sort everything out. I just don’t know why you didn’t text me. And why you thought you should just show up in the middle of the night with Rafe?”

You nod as if you’re being told off, “No, I know. It was stupid. It was late and we were just planning on getting in and leaving, I didn’t plan on you seeing him, and I especially didn’t want the two of you to argue, you know that.”

He’s silent in his agreement, pausing for enough time for it to settle before he says, “So why is he here?”

“He’s back from New York for a few days, just coming to see Sarah,” You explain, taking another sip of your drink and wincing as it burns at your tongue.

“Perfect timing,” James raises his brows momentarily as if being sarcastic, “I’m sure he was happy to see you.”

“Wha-“ You pause, reconsidering the idea of starting up an argument that he’s already ignited, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Come on, (Y/N),” James rolls his eyes, “I know the way he used to be with you.”

“We’re friends, we’ve always been friends.”

Perhaps that wasn’t so true, just maybe. Before you and James got together, you’d been so sure that you and Rafe would be inevitable. There was the night you kissed at the party, there was the night on the beach with far too much alcohol, there were countless days and countless nights. Just as you were losing hope of him ever reciprocating your feelings, you’d seen him kiss a girl at another party, and you’d used that as confirmation enough. Two weeks later, you’d gone on your first date with James. Nine years later, you’d still never told Rafe how you’d felt before that - especially since the two of you had started living such different lives.

“I knew how he felt about you, it was obvious. God, the first time I met those guys he acted like I was the worst person he’d ever met,” James scoffs, “I thought he was going to rip my head off when I said we’d be moving away for college. He could’ve done the same last night, too.”

“You know, you don’t get to talk like that anymore. You split up with me. So it shouldn’t matter to you how anyone feels about me, whether or not that’s true,” You defend, tucking your arms around yourself as if closing yourself away from him.

“I don’t think I noticed it when we were in college, it was just me and you in our own little world and for a long time I thought that’s what would make us last. But we moved back here and it’s like everywhere you turn there’s another memory of you two - another piece of him that you’re holding onto even years later.”

“We’re friends. He means a lot to me. That’s what friends are.”

You let the silence fall.

He’s silent too and it surprises you. Normally, he would find any way to keep an argument going if he’d started it, he’d argue back and forth constantly until you agreed - he didn’t just let arguments end.

“I didn’t come here to argue with you,” He takes a deep breath, “I’m sorry for the way I ended things. I know I probably didn’t go about things in the right way, but I think if I’d have tried to do anything else I… well, I don’t think I’d have been able to do it.”

You feel the lump grow in your throat, the way it seems to constrict your words just a little too much as you say, “Then why did you?”

He breaks eye contact then and looks down at his cup, his finger still swirling around the edge in continuous circles, “Do you remember the first time we went out?”

“Our first date?”

“I picked you up from your house and I had to wait down the road because your parents might see me. And we went out, and I knew then that this was it for me, like within one date I’d just already decided,” He doesn’t meet your eyes, “And then I walked you home and I stopped around the corner again so that your parents wouldn’t see me. And you walked up to your house and Rafe was sat on the steps up to your porch, just waiting for you to get home.”

Your heart sinks at his words, like a weird feeling of not knowing the inevitable.

“And I guess for the past nine years that’s how it’s always felt; like Rafe was just waiting for you to go back home to him.”

“You’re blaming this on Rafe?” You raise your brows, your words feeling coarse and dry as you speak, “We were together for nine years. I chose you for nine years, every fucking day I chose you, and you want to tell me that you blame this on Rafe? That Rafe’s the reason you broke my heart?”

“Broke your heart,” James repeats, nodding slowly, “Your heart didn’t seem too broken last night.”

You let out a scoff and bite down just a little on the tip of your tongue as if trying to calm the anger bubbling out of you, “Right, yeah. I had one night where I felt a little bit fucking human again, after not sleeping, not eating, crying until I thought I’d be sick. After asking myself over and over and over again - what did I do? what should I have done? what’s wrong with me? And this whole thing you’re just going to blame on Rafe?”

“Where is he right now (Y/N)?”

You stop in your tracks, your hand clenching around the heat of your coffee mug, your words seeming to sink in the air between you.

James takes a long pause, his eyes scanning your face as if waiting for you to find the answer, “Waiting for you to come home.”

~~~

It’s an uncomfortable drive back. Neither of you speak a word. So much so that the tyres suddenly seem to make too much noise on the road, and you feel like you can hear the sound of the wheel turning under his grip. There’s a welcome relief when you watch the car turn into the driveway towards Sarah’s house, and an overwhelming dread when you catch the sight you know that James has seen too.

Rafe is sat on the steps in front of their house, the copy of To Kill A Mockingbird in his hands, a third of the way through the pages. He glances up at the sound of the car, a slight drop in his features as he recognises the face behind the wheel. He sets the book down on the side of the steps and stands up, his jaw clenching as you watch him.

James doesn’t say a word, but there’s the slightest tiniest hint of a smirk on his lips as if he’s been proven right about everything.

You wait until he cuts the engine and pull your seatbelt off, pausing before you push open the door, “I didn’t know that he’d be-“

James opens his own door and pushes himself out before you have a chance to say anything else. You follow suit quickly, scrambling out like the car’s on fire.

“Couldn’t wait to jump on her could you, buddy?” James bellows, storming over to Rafe.

“Excuse me?” Rafe looks taken aback, glancing at you as your eyes catch, “This is the house meeting you were talking about?”

“House meeting?” James looks at you, “So you couldn’t even tell him you were seeing me?”

“I just- I didn’t-“

“So what is it? You’re trying to come crawling back to her?” Rafe interjects and you flick your eyes to him as if a warning, though now he is only focused on James.

“You want to talk about crawling back? It seems pretty fucking convenient that you show your face around here the minute (Y/N)’s not got a boyfriend anymore.”

“Right, yeah, that’s why I’m here. Maybe it’s a good thing I came home, to pick up the pieces of the shit you left her in.”

In a conversation about yourself, you’ve never felt smaller. It’s like you’re shrinking into the space around them, disappearing when all of their anger is fuelled by you and focused on themselves. You’re sure you could disappear and they’d remain - hot headed in their hatred.

“Pick up the pieces? That’s what you think you’re doing?” James laughs, both of them practically steaming in their anger, “You’re not doing fuck all to help when you’re trying to get into her pants two seconds after she’s singl-“

“Enough!” You yell, sounding like the word has come from someone other than yourself as you feel your hands start to tremble.

Both of the boys silence, finally looking away from each other to focus on you, their anger sinking into the same pool as your disapproval. Rafe’s eyes seem to settle back into himself, like a realisation of how he’d been acting - he’d been doing the exact thing that he hated seeing in James, the way he ignored you in favor of his own focus. He looks like his younger self when you watch him. That anger, that hatred, the kind that he’d had before he moved away. That kind that gave him a million more problems. He’s that boy again.

“Just stop doing this, okay?” You drag a hand through your hair, “Neither of you get to talk on my behalf. Neither of you get to choose what’s best for me, or force this narrative of what you think is going on in my life. I’m sick of it. Have this masculinity battle some other time but god do it when I’m not here.”

With that, you disappear around the side of the house, shortcutting through the garden gate and finally letting yourself breathe, the tension in your chest seeming to return.

Rafe looks at James as if he could go again but in that moment all he can think of is you. The disappointment in your face as you’d walked away, the way you looked at him like you didn’t really know him. He drags a hand through his hair and all he can think of is how you tell him you’re sure he could suit any hairstyle. He stops himself from smiling, the urge fading when he looks at James again.

“So, what? Maybe a week or so and you’ll ask her on a date?” James folds his arms over his chest, “Or is a week just too long to wait? Hell, maybe you’ll be engaged within the month.”

“You know what, James,” Rafe clenches and unclenches his jaw, “Just go,” He waves his hand in the boys direction, his body turning away from him as if it’s gravitating back to you.

And with only the thought of you, he backs away from the fight.

~~~

You’re sat on the half-made dock at the end of Sarah and John B’s lawn, your feet pushing through the surface of the water aimlessly, eyes focused on the way the water curves around your ankles. Your chest has seemingly settled now but if you let yourself think of everything for too long it seems to flurry in anxiety again.

“Can I sit? Or should I put myself in time out?” The words come with the sound of footsteps creaking along the wooden planks, pausing as if they’re sure they are a safe distance from you.

You don’t turn around, “Sit, as long as you promise to be quiet.”

Rafe mumbles a ‘yes ma’am’ and takes his spot on the edge of the dock beside you. You feel him looking at you, his eyes burning into you as they scan your face. You weren’t crying and it seems to relieve the tiniest bit of worry within him. But you looked drained. Not tired in the way you were when he first saw you - but drained in the way that life seems to have been just slightly pulled away from you.

He opens his mouth to speak but stops as you lean back, fingers linking between your hands over your stomach as you lay against the dock. The sun hangs bright above you and you close your eyes, a deep breath forcing a rise and fall in your chest. Rafe watches you, the innocence in your features. He’d relied on those exact features for a lot of moments in his life. Your smile when he needed reminding of a good memory, the way your jaw clenches when you’re angry when he needed reminding of when he was in the wrong. Your eyes when he needed to come back home.

After a moment, he leans himself back too, his shirt wrinkling against the wood as he lays down, one arm tucking underneath his head. He turns his face towards you, observing.

You poke one eye open and squint in his direction, “Stop staring, weirdo.”

Rafe smiles, “So you’re not completely ignoring me,” He nods his head a little against his arm, “Does that mean I’m at like a six on the scale?”

“The scale?”

“The scale. How mad you are at something, you don’t remember?”

Of course you remember. When the two of you had been at school, he’d used that ‘scale’ as a way of you telling him how bad your day was - on the days when you had exams, and your friends were being shitty, and your parents were having problems at home, you’d say you were closer to a 10. It applied to everything - when he annoyed you, when you and Sarah had argued over something silly, everything.

“I’m a seven.”

He laughs a little and it seems to sit welcomingly in the space between you, easing the clench in your chest just enough.

The two of you stay in silence for a while after that, watching the sun disappear momentarily behind a cloud, casting a welcome shade over the water. You focus on the rise and fall of your chest, breathing in and out deeply to avoid the discomfort coming from laying on the dock. Rafe stays still beside you for a while, before his leg slightly shifts to the side so that his knee knocks against yours. You fight back a smile and turn around to look at him;

“Yes?” You raise your brows.

He pushes himself up so he’s leaning over you on his elbows, his head blocking the sun out so you can look at him without completely squinting against the light.

“I’m sorry,” He nods, “I really did have no idea you were with him, I was just waiting until you got back. And I don’t know, as soon as he said that I just felt like I lost it. It was weird, I don’t think I’ve felt angry like that in years.”

You nod in response, watching the guilt cast a darkness over his features.

“How did it go with you two today?”

You push yourself to lean up on your elbows too, matching his stance as he settles back to his side of the dock.

“Well, he’s not your biggest fan,” You laugh a little, staring out on the stillness of the water, “I don’t know, it just seems like he wants to think our relationship was doomed from the start, like we were just putting off the inevitable.”

“Well, did you ever feel like that?”

You take a deep breath, “I don’t think so. I don’t know, I just thought we’d stay together. God, I think after our third anniversary I was pretty certain that this would be it. But after what he said today it just feels like the two of us had been in two different relationships for all this time. And now I’m thinking, why didn’t he ever propose? Why did he want to move back here when I had my whole life at college? I mean, shit, Sarah’s having a kid and I was still just a girlfriend after nine years.”

Rafe nods, “Yeah I know what you mean. He was crazy for not wanting to marry you after all that time.”

You turn your head to look at him but he stays looking out over the water dismissively.

“God, who wouldn’t want to marry you?”

You feel your heart swell for just a second and turn your head away from him to look back over the water, both of you letting the silence fill in the empty gaps of the conversation you hadn’t yet had, that you didn’t need to have just yet.

“So, the sun is about an hour from setting,” Rafe points out, “How about that swim?”

~~~

You make your way back downstairs with your swimsuit on, a towel held under one arm, your flip-flops slapping against the wooden steps.

“Hey! I feel like I haven’t seen you today, how did it go with James?” Sarah stands up from the couch as you come downstairs, “Are you going out?”

You glance out at the garden, Rafe not visible along the stretch of the lawn, “Yeah, I’m just going for a swim. And it went well with James, a little bit of closure at least. Still feels weird.”

“It’s bound to,” Sarah nods, reaching out a hand to squeeze your arm, “Did you tell Rafe that you saw him?”

“Um, yeah, yeah, he knows,” You scratch at the back of your neck.

“God, I’m surprised he didn’t flip. I don’t think there’s anyone he hates as much as he hates James,” Sarah shakes her head.

You’re about to speak again but are cut off by the sound of the garden door sliding open. Rafe appears on the other side, poking his head through the created gap between the door and the wall.

“You ready to go (Y/L/N)?” He looks at you, a soft smile on his lips, a sort of calm resting in his features.

“I’ll be there in a minute,” You return softly and he nods, disappearing again.

“He’s so different when he sees you,” Sarah shakes her head, glancing over at the spot where her brother had just been.

“Different how?” You frown, letting your eyes trail back to her.

She shrugs her shoulders and rests a hand over her bump, running her fingers over the skin, “Just like he’s grounded, like he’s home.”

You feel the lump form in your throat, the way it once again makes it feel impossible to think of anything to say.

“Go on, he might be grounded but he’s still impatient,” Sarah jokes, gesturing her head in the direction of the door.

You laugh and follow her instruction, closing the glass door behind you as you walk down to the dock. Rafe is sat on the edge, his legs dangling over into the water. In only his swim-shorts, you can see the contortions of his muscles across his shoulders, the way they dip in his skin and seem to make him look bigger than he ever seemed normally. His skin isn’t as tanned as you remember him being but you suppose he doesn’t get as much sun when he’s in New York - not the kind he got here, anyway. And part of you seems to remember just how distant he was nowadays, his return feeling all the more temporary.

You hang your towel over the edge of the dock next to his and pull off your flip flops, leaving them at the edge too before breaking into a sprint straight past him. Your arms outstretch in front of you and break the surface of the water first, submerging your underneath until your toes feel the cold of the still water too.

Your head breaks the surface and you drag your hands up to draw your hair way from your face, now slick against your scalp.

“Very graceful,” Rafe smirks, “How on earth do I follow that?”

You watch him stand from the dock, stretching upwards before taking a few steps back. Within a split second, he catapults himself into the air, drawing his knees upwards so that he lands in a cannonball into the water, spray dispersing into the air and all over you.

“Well, I wouldn’t call that graceful,” You laugh, blinking away the water from your eyes.

From where Sarah and John B’s house was, you could see the sunset through a clearing in the trees if you swam around to the right angle. And you and Rafe knew the islands well enough to know exactly where to go.

By the time you swim around, the sky is painted with a yellow hue, sun lowering down seemingly a few feet from the horizon.

“I’m sorry about today,” Rafe breaks the silence, turning himself in the water to face you.

You kick forward so that your body tilts back, head hanging into the surface water, “You already said that.”

“I know, I just hate when I feel like I’ve disappointed you,” He comments, watching the way your body floats in the water.

You smile a little to the sky, “You didn’t disappoint me.”

He pauses for a moment, “So, I didn’t ask you earlier but, did he tell you the reason why he ended things?”

Your body tilts to turn you upright once again in the water, hands pushing through either side of you to maintain your position, eyes locking onto him. His hair is slick against his head and there are small beads of water trailing down either side of his cheeks, looping around under his jawline. He’s home. For the first time in years, he’s back here and it feels like it’s actually him - not some replaced or changed version. You’re both back to being sixteen again, sneaking liquor out of your houses, staying up until the sun called you home, misfit ways of surviving life in this isolated haven. And you realise it then, for a fleeting moment where you let yourself accept it - it’s Rafe that makes this place home.

“He…” Your voice trails off then, considering every possible outcome that would come in return for telling Rafe exactly what had been said earlier, exactly what you’d come to learn.

But the moment is fleeting. And you’re back in seconds to a reality. To a broken heart and a broken home, to New York, to your future, to James, to Sarah just a matter of metres away, to everything and everyone that you didn’t want to lose. To Rafe.

“He couldn’t give me a reason,” You swallow the lump in your throat, your eyes not breaking away from Rafe.

“The guy’s an idiot,” Rafe shakes his head, turning away from you and towards the sun.

You watch as he does, watching the glow that radiates from his skin, the way it seems to warm the air around him.

James might be an idiot, but maybe he was right.

———

Taglist: @viianey

[neo91502]

Mysterious Guardian Pods

2,366 words

One inconspicuous afternoon, SMG4 and Mario were (unsurprisingly) on a wacky adventure. This particular adventure being them trying to find random meme objects that SMG3 placed around the Showgrounds, which includes the forest surrounding it too. On this fateful day, they just so happened to hear a whirring noise that almost sounded as if something was going to crash, but passed it off as maybe a meme causing that sound.

Unfortunately for them, it actually was important. While they were about to grab a meme object, there was a very loud and sudden boom, as if something crashed. The two of them made brief eye contact, both knowing to rush over to the site of where they heard the noise.

Strangely enough, they saw more signs of plant life, almost as thoughof plant life, as if there were more plants suddenly growing near the crash. The closer they got, the weirder it got. It was as if a whole jungle sprouted out of nowhere right at the crash site. As they got closer, there was a strange turquoise and golden guardian pod with an arrow pointing down, looking as if plants were helping to hold it up. There looked to be a golden flower pattern around against the main turquoise color on it.

“What the…” SMG4 trailed off as he saw the mysterious guardian pod’s door opening to reveal a new guardian. What SMG4 didn’t understand was why there was a new guardian and who this may even be. This includes his curiosity going as far as to questioning if there’s a partner to this new, mysterious guardian.

It looked as if there was some kind of light on a string that glowed a peach color until it faded away and a clink was heard. As the person started to walk out, SMG4 started to see the outfit. Sure enough, Mario is definitely the avatar. Again. Even though SMG4 suppressed the urge to sigh, he continued to study exactly who is coming out from the guardian pod. They had a general turquoise and gold outfit, similar to the design of the guardian pod, and had small parts of peach to pink on them as well.

When he saw their eyes, his own eyes widened a bit as he noticed it wasn’t at all how he expected. To be fair, he had to admit to himself that it definitely complimented the colors of their outfit too. Mario, on the other hand, wasn't nearly as interested. It didn’t help that he was thinking of spaghetti, otherwise, he might’ve been more curious.

“...Who are you?” SMG4 called out to the figure who was looking around at the plants near themself, somehow not noticing SMG4 and Mario standing not too far away from them.

That got their attention quickly.

“Oh, uh…” The person started, hesitantly continuing, “I’m… SMG9. I don’t know much else to tell you or how I even am here now.”

SMG4 slowly walked closer to SMG9, who seemed even unsure of their own name. He did notice how their ears seemed to be a little differently shaped, almost like an elf’s, but not quite. The blue-clad meme guardian looked over at Mario, sharing similar expressions. They definitely needed to tell SMG1 and SMG2 about this as soon as possible, and SMG3.

-

On a regular day to check up on the Internet Graveyard, SMG3 only found it in complete ruins. There was no explanation as to why there’s so much wind, let alone it being in complete havoc and in ruin. He tried to find some kind of explanation as to what was happening, but he was finding small tornados. As much as they weren’t the most helpful nor wanted, it at least wasn’t full blown tornados. It still didn’t make sense though.

The further he tried to investigate, the more severe the weird weather became. It felt very unnatural for this to happen, even with all the dead memes causing chaos at times. It sure is a rough job to try and maintain the dead meme cycle, but this is even worse at the moment. As he continued in (with his hat blowing off sometimes), he felt almost as though there was a strong wind trying to block and barricade him away from getting to something.

Even though it was harsh winds, he still managed to tough it out, like he always does, and got to the source of the phenomenon. When he did, it was calm, like the eye of a hurricane. Strangely enough, it was pretty peaceful and calming. That was until he noticed a guardian pod. It was a strange guardian pod. It was pretty dark, but with the contrast of a bright arrow pointing up with a nice pink down to purple gradient and an orange-peach kind of color outlining it. It also had rainbow colored spots, similar to what an arcade carpet might have.

Low and behold, the door was already open apparently. He glanced around to try and spot the perpetrator of who he assumed was the cause of the abnormal weather. Soon enough, he spotted someone who had a wide, mischievous grin on their face. It almost looked maniacal in a way, but more full of mischief out of anything. SMG3 didn’t even know how to even describe what this person even looked like.

All he could say was that everything about them looked chaotic. Spiky and long white hair with two strands going over the ears and ending in an explosion kind of shape. They had a darker complex that the white hair definitely complimented against them. The hat looked as if someone bit out of it, but with two small holes that are right next to each other, as if chipped, but more like bitten. He couldn’t even start on the ears nor eyes. As far as he could tell, their ears were long and elf-like, but more pointy and longer. The right pupil being shaped like a three and the left pupil being shaped like a seven with the irises being like an eight that was filled in fully rather than having the two empty spots in them.

SMG3 really didn’t know how to even describe them. You just kind of had to see them for yourself. He did have to admit, the diamond shape on the cuffs of their gloves looked nice with that cyan color looked nice along with that same color being star shaped on their overall buttons. The general outfit was dark exactly like their guardian pod, their sweater littered with the arcade carpet shapes of rainbow colors.

Another weird thing he noticed was an almost astral kind of spacey tail. It was purple into pink to the tip and littered with orange-peach dots, as if they were stars, in it too.

SMG3 shook his head and confidently approached the person, who he assumed is a meme guardian since they came from the guardian pod that’s suspiciously designed just like them, and cleared his throat when he was close enough.

“Hey, what the fuck are you doing?” SMG3 sharply asked when he got their attention. He noticed some kind of long and sharp weapon before it suddenly dissipated into sparkly stardust before his eyes, unable to get a good look at it before it was gone.

The source of the severe weather turned around and stopped, a ball of wind vanishing as they shut their hand around it, leaning back and bending their back to look backwards at SMG3. It felt unnatural and disturbing to see that, but SMG3 didn’t let his guard down by getting a little creeped out on how they bent back like that to look at him. He noticed that the emblem on the cap was like the one on the back of their gloves as well; a pink hurricane symbol with an orange-peach diamond in the middle as if to be the “eye” of the symbol.

“Me? Well, the name’s SMG10! Pleasure to meet you!” SMG10 called back at SMG3 in a sing-song voice with an unnervingly large smile. SMG3 was able to quickly tell they definitely had fangs, and they did not look dull whatsoever. Despite that, he did kind of like the general chaotic nature of this mysterious and new meme guardian.

Sure, he should tell SMG1 and SMG2 at some point, but, for now, it’ll be fine. He should just focus on trying to learn more about SMG10 and teach them how to maintain the life cycle of memes, seeking to get them to help him with it. It’d be much easier if he did have help after all.

-

After a while, SMG3 and SMG4 ended up meeting up in the Showgrounds. Unsurprisingly, it was in SMG3’s cafe for a coffee.

As usual, SMG4 would order his typical coffee and it devolved into random rambling about his day. That was until SMG4 suddenly mentioned about a guardian pod and a new meme guardian. It caught SMG3’s attention pretty quickly.

“–and there were a lot of plants!” SMG4 happily rambled on.

“Wait, wait. Hold on a moment. Go back to what you were first saying? What do you mean you and Mario found a new guardian pod?” SMG3 quickly asked, sitting at the same table as him, across from SMG4 and leaning forward now, brows furrowed and eyes narrowed at the other meme guardian.

“Yeah, Mario and I found a new guardian pod that crashed right near us when you hid those meme objects around the Showgrounds. It crashed in the forest right near us when we were about to grab one. It was really strange seeing so many plants flourish near the crash and even more at the guardian pod,” SMG4 replied, not saying the exact same thing as last time, trying to add more details as he thought back to it.

“...And there just so happened to be a guardian pod that crashed right near you two where you were?” SMG3 asked, sounding comedically dumbfounded. Not only is he really puzzled over this, but it seemed like around the same time when he found the other guardian pod himself in the Internet Graveyard.

“Yep! Sure, it was… abnormal and I don’t know why there’s a new meme guardian now, but they seemed good and okay! In fact, their name is SMG9 and they're at the castle now,” SMG4 continued to ramble on, seemingly very happy about some new guardians suddenly appearing that have no reason whatsoever to even be here.

Something then suddenly struck SMG3’s mind, his eyes widening. “S… SMG9?” SMG3 blurted out loud on accident, emphasizing the nine. Something about that seemed really off. The more he thought about it, SMG10 had to be SMG9’s meme guardian partner and those numbers seemed weird.

It felt that maybe, just maybe, that those numbers had a deeper meaning to them… Why would there have been a sudden gap between their numbers? Where’s the SMGs from five to eight at then? Did those numbers hide deeper meanings?

SMG3 decided to not dwell on it further and focus on the current matter on hand, and that being; There’s now new meme guardians and SMG3 and SMG4 needed to tell SMG1 and SMG2 as soon as possible.

He didn’t notice SMG4 was trying to get his attention either, which was his fault.

“Hellooo? Earth to Three? You there?” SMG4 asked, waving a hand in front of SMG3’s face until he got his attention.

“Huh? What? Oh, right, sorry, I was thinking about something,” SMG3 half-apologized, a little too sidetracked at the moment as he looked back at SMG4.

“Okay, good. Now that I have your attention, why the fuck did you suddenly say SMG9 and why did you emphasize the nine?” SMG4 suddenly asked him, sounding a little harsh, which he didn’t mean to, but he was really curious and also tried getting SMG3’s attention for the past couple of minutes.

“Right, that. I was just thinking about what happened earlier. I also found a guardian pod too. It was in the Internet Graveyard while I was doing a check on the dead memes and to check up on it in general. When I got there, it was in utter chaos and havoc. There was abnormal weather and so, obviously, I went out to find the source of the strange weather, right?” SMG3 explained, waiting for a nod from SMG4 to make sure he’s listening.

He then continued, “Then I eventually found the source of it all, which was really tough to get through, but I clearly got through it with barely any trouble (he lied, he went through a lot to get to the center) and it was uncomfortably calm and peaceful. That’s when I found the source. There was a guardian pod and the door was already open. Then I looked around, yeah? There was then this mysterious person, who was the meme guardian and the true source of the phenomenon of the weather, and they radiated chaos. Luckily, they stopped as soon as I called out to them. Found out their name is SMG10 and then taught them how to maintain the dead meme life cycle and all of that. Oh, and they helped me clean up the Internet Graveyard. They’re still there in the cafe I used to live at though,” SMG3 finished explaining, surprisingly saying a lot more than he had originally expected himself to say.

SMG4 was a little gobsmacked at how much SMG3 even said and how there’s another meme guardian, especially landing in the Internet Graveyard. He wasn't sure what to say, he just sat there with his jaw dropped and wide eyes.

The both of them knew for sure now that they had to contact SMG1 and SMG2 as soon as they possibly could and tell them the news about new memes guardians.

They both had to do something.

Yet… They both end up becoming friends with the two meme guardians that suddenly and randomly arrived.

…The third and the fourth meme guardians have much to learn about these two mysterious ninth and tenth meme guardians.

They don’t know what truly can happen later on in the story.

pssst... search in my tumblr with the tag ' #smg4 guardian pod ' to see what the guardian pods look like themselves and '#smg9' and '#smg10' for their designs...