#I refuse to believe any of these three are not fruity | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

selfishdoll · 11 months

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FOUND OUT FT. VAMP! ARMIN ୨୧ ｡ ⟡ ⋆ ࣪. ໒

armin arlert, your good friend of two years and hard crush of one. you decided to become his roommate just three months ago and all has been well. except for the fact, a ludicrous idea has entered your mind. one so silly, you didn’t even want to believe it. what was it exactly? well.. that armin, was a vampire. this wasn’t some fantasy or fairy tale.. you weren’t bella and he wasn’t edward. there was no way, no way in hell armin was a vampire.. right?

❛author’s note...❜ ━━ please bare in mind i haven’t touched aot for a long time & only posting this fic for my reawakened obsession with the anime & manga. that said, if you think armin is ooc, i’m sorry— but again, i warned you (plus i’m not the creator). if you enjoy this, please give me more characters to make vamp versions of. of jjk or aot. and as always, please excuse any grammar mistakes or typos <3 (4680 WORDS)

It was common to question reality. To ponder about situations that were outside the norm. What if a zombie apocalypse happened? What if aliens were real? And finally, what if your good friend— turned roommate, was a vampire?

You felt silly as the thought, the pondering consumed you within the first week of living together. You really had no reason to believe Armin Arlert; a sweet young man with a heart of gold was some bloodsucking beast. Or rather, you didn’t want to believe it. Such information would drastically change the trajectory of the relationship you had with him.

The pipeline from friends — secret one sided pining — to prey wasn’t one you wished to follow.

Yet, all signs pointed to the answer; all signs pointed to Armin being a vampire.

For one, you’ve never seen him eat. Ever. Each time you offered some of your food, Armin would give you a gentle smile— while refusing. I already ate. Was the signature line he delivered, no matter the time of day. But, that wasn’t too concrete; he worked at home and you worked in a clinic— there was a possibility he was telling the truth.

The second piece of evidence may have been the key. The man would stock up his side of the fridge with this.. juice. Red liquid within clear bottles, the print labeled in a language you couldn’t understand. No matter how much you searched online, you simply couldn’t find it. So, you did the unthinkable.

You popped open a bottle, taking a swig. You expected a disturbing metallic taste; one that would cause you to spill the contents of your stomach. Instead a sweet fruity flavor tickled your tastebuds, causing your eyes to widen and quickly pull back from the bottle.

In time to see Armin entering the kitchen, flashing you a smile.

“I was wondering when you’d try them. I bought so many.” He spoke sweetly, informing you it was some random juice he bought whilst on a business trip.

With both his words and the concrete evidence, you believed him.

But there were so, so many more instances where you wondering if you were grasping at straws. His refusal to enter a home without access? Well, Armin was always polite. The way he avoided you whenever you got hurt? He did inform you blood makes him queasy. Or how each time you got your period the man just suddenly had a business trip? Armin did state his work schedule was weird.

It frustrated you to no end. You hated yourself for developing the thought in the first place. You already fucked falling for him a year ago, and now you just had to come up with the most ludicrous idea.

Armin Arlert, a vampire? Please..

The breath that escaped you was ragged, eyes pinched close and leaning your head against the steering wheel. The way a cramp could ruin your mood in a matter of seconds was beyond you. Truly, it was.

You were glued to your seat unable to move due to the pain within your stomach. Which could only be described as millions of knives being rammed directly into your uterus. A dramatic metaphor, but a fitting one.

A groan escaped you as you lifted from your curled position, the back of your head pressed against the seat. The pills you consumed just ten minutes ago had obviously not taken effect yet, leaving you unable to fight against the pain. You tried, you really did try to make it to work despite the aches— but you couldn’t. You pulled over into the nearest store parking lot just to make a quick call to your supervisor.

Thankfully, she was very understanding; even gently scolding you for attempting to work in the first place. The interaction caused you to smile, thanking her profusely and promising to make up the hours.

Now, all you had to do was get home. Though, as your eyes opened from its previous pained scrunch, you focused on the store in-front of you. A soft hum escaped you as turned the engine of your car off. A quick run to get some much deserved snacks was fine, right?

You opened the car door and exited, locking it behind you with a hand pressed against your stomach. It was comical attempting to massage the cramps, but the warmth of your hand was elevating the pain— slightly. Not much.

You approached the store doors and entered, flashing a smile to a worker that greeted you. You turned down an aisle whilst looking over the selection of snacks, kneeling to take in the rest of the shelf. While thinking over what you wanted, an idea popped into your mind.

Armin was always so doting and sweet whenever he went out to the store; always asking if you needed something. You wanted to do the same.

So without a second thought you grabbed your phone from your purse, clicking his contact and placing the receiver to your ear. The ringer went off two times before the man picked up, his usual tone entering your ears;

“Hey (Y/N)— are you okay? You don’t usually call me during work.”

You smiled, standing from your kneeled position. “I’m okay!.. well, not really. Cramps are kicking my ass right now,” You hummed, walking down the end of the shelf.

A silence entered the call for a moment before Armin spoke again. “You mean.. menstrual cramps?”

“Yeah!— sorry if that was too much to share.. Anyway, I’m at the store right now do you need anything?”

Armin cleared his throat a bit, the faint sound of something entering the call— but leaving quickly. “N—no. No, I’m fine. Thank you for asking, (Y/N).”

With chaste goodbyes you ended the call, placing your phone back into your purse. You finally decided on some gummies and chocolate, heading over to the register with a little pep in your step.

Pigging out on the couch seemed like the perfect day.

You left the store quickly after paying, entering your car even quicker and reaching your shared home in record time. Opening the door, you sighed as you placed your keys onto a table nearby; purse following. You walked towards the back of the house, glancing over at Armin’s closed bedroom door. With a small smile you walked up, pressing your knuckles against the maroon colored wood.

A minute passed before the door was opened, revealing his form. His eyes bored into your own, flashing the same gentle smile he always did. “(Y/N).. you should be resting.”

You smiled back at him, “Just wanted to check on you before I lay on the couch for the rest of the day.”

The man blinked as your words set in, watching you turn to enter your bedroom. Hesitantly, he followed, standing in the doorway. “On the couch?”

“Yeah! Don’t worry I’ll have a towel under me.”

“I wasn’t worried about that..” Was the faint mumble that escaped the blonde, words you didn’t hear. A soft sigh escaped him, however, blinking to glance at you. “Hope you feel better.” Armin said more clearly, turning to walk into his room after you gave soft gratitude.

You grabbed some pink bebe shorts and a random black tshirt, walking over to the bathroom with a pad in tow. After doing your business and changing, you entered your bedroom again to place your work clothes away— grabbing a clean towel shortly after.

You exited to enter the living room, smiling at the couch waiting for you. Walking over, you stretched the towel out along the cushions, pulling the coffee table closer for convenience. After grabbing your snacks and a water bottle, a stiff sigh escaped you as you laid across the couch. The towel was a bit uncomfortable if you moved, but you rather that then possibly leaking through the pad you wore.

Your hand reached for the remote beside you, turning the channel to a tv show you’ve currently been obsessed with; True Blood. A small chuckle escaped you as your cheek sunk into the pillow under you, placing the remote down. Maybe you were watching it too much, maybe that’s why you thought Armin was some blood sucking beast.

But, there was no way. You were literally on your period and he was.. well— normal. As normal as Armin Arlert was anyway.

You turned to open the pack of gummies, taking a bit in your hand before sinking back into the cushions. Your eyes remained glued to the screen as you popped one into your mouth, oblivious to the hard stare you were receiving.

An hour and a half passed with your continued watching, getting up in between to use the restroom. Your snacks were long gone, water bottle empty, and pill; worn off. You had zero energy to get up and grab some more, especially since you just found the perfect spot to help your cramps.

You hissed softly, moving to press your face deeper into the cushion. You’ve had a period for twenty-two years now, yet it always felt as if you were experiencing it for the first time. It was annoying, truly annoying. With a subtle groan your eyes blinked open, racking your mind for a moment before an idea peaked within you.

“Armin!” You called out from the living room while turning to lay on your back, hand strewn across your lower stomach. Moments passed before his bedroom door opened, footsteps entering the living room and revealing your roommate. Who looked a little tired. Strange, you’ve never seen him in such a way.

But, instead of inquiring you gave a little smile; “Could you grab my pills from my bedroom, and a water bottle?”

Armin’s eyes carried down your form for a moment, mouth opening before closing. Instead, he simply nodded; turning to head to your bedroom.

Maybe periods really did make him uncomfortable. You’ve never seen Armin so fidgety and nervous, as if scared to speak. It would concern you more if another cramp didn’t pierce you, causing a soft groan to slip past your lips. You heard Armin move from your bedroom to the kitchen, opening the fridge and closing it after.

You looked up at the man, watching him stand a few feet away; placing the items you requested down on the table. You sat up with a sweet smile, swinging your legs over the couch. “Thanks Min.” You spoke, watching him nod and turn to walk away. Instead of leaving him be, you spoke up again;

“You wanna watch something together? I’m sure being cooped up in your room is boring..” You don’t know why the suggestion escaped you, feeling embarrassment the moment you noticed Armin’s form stiffen. Your eyes turned to the pill bottle, twisting the cap slow. “It’s uh.. cool if you don’t want t—“

“Is this another test, (Y/N)?”

You blinked slowly as his words permeated the atmosphere, entering your mind and settling there for a split second. You thought over the sentence, tongue nervously swiping across your bottom lip the moment you realized his tone. It’s usual softness was gone, replaced with something you couldn’t pinpoint.

You tried to play off your silence, a soft— forced chuckle escaping you. “Test? What test, Armin?”

You watched as the man’s shoulders lowered, body turning to face you. Your teeth was caught on your bottom lip, feeling tension enter the air.

Armin looked at you, or rather observed you for a silent moment. You didn’t know what to do, trapped under the gaze; unable to look away. Your fingers gripped the towel underneath you, debating whether to apologize or demand to know what was suddenly wrong.

Finally, after what seemed like hours but was truly five minutes; Armin spoke.

“First, you take a bottle of mine and drink it without permission.” His words were slow, as if listing off the directions of a cookbook. What’s more, Armin moved towards you, your chest bumping with each step he took. “Next, you accidentally, cut yourself whenever I’m in the kitchen.” He was close now, standing beside the table.

You sunk into the cushion behind you, gasping the moment he closed the space; hands pressed against the furniture— trapping you. “And lastly, you invite me to sit with you in such an innocent manner.. I don’t know whether to call you a genius or just plain naive, (Y/N).”

“Armin..” You breathed softly, feeling your mouth go dry. His eyes flicked between your body and lips, clearly struggling to focus on a single thing. “Armin, I—.. I’m confused, what are you talking about?”

Finally it seemed he had made a choice, gaze focusing onto your own. Silently, the man smiled, a forced one— a toothy one. Your eyes widened, breath hitching the moment you spotted the fangs placed perfectly in his mouth. A shudder went down your spine, gripping the towel even harsher.

“Oh wow..” Armin spoke lowly, stealing your attention from his canines. “I reveal something.. so, so troubling and yet— you’re excited. More then excited actually.. ecstatic, maybe?” The man pondered, coming even closer to you.

Your hands rose to grip his arms, gasping the moment you felt his face lower to your neck. As his teeth ghosted your neck, you felt your heart threatening to escape your chest. You pinched your eyes closed, twitched, even turned your head to the side.

And yet, Armin did nothing. He simply.. hovered there.

A frustration you didn’t wish to acknowledge build within you, manicured fingers digging into his cool, skin. “Armin..”

“What is it, (Y/N)? You want me to bite you, don’t you?” The words escaped him the moment you uttered his name, a hand lifting from the cushion whilst he pulled back from your neck. Now face to face, his fingers collected your chin to assure you didn’t glance away. “I thought at first you were concerned for your safety, maybe even scared. But no..” His lips quirked, thumb rising to smooth across your wet bottom lip. “You’re clearly far from scared.”

“Armin.. please just—“

“I will. I promise.” He interjected, releasing your face. Your eyes widened the moment he pushed your shoulder, laying you down on the couch. The cushion in-front of you sunk in as he sat down, hands dragging to your waist covered in shorts. “But first.. I think I’ll get my fill another way.”

Your eyes widened at his words, feeling his fingers hook under the thin pink fabric of your bottoms and panties, peeling them from your body in one swift motion. Embarrassment flooded through your body, instinctively closing your thighs.

Armin’s eyes switched from your legs over to your face, head tilting as he took in your nervous expression. To your surprise, a gentle smile stretched across his face, one that you’ve gotten used to, one that caused you to melt easily.

Noticing this, it didn’t take much to gently push your legs apart, featuring your cunt to him. “That’s a good girl..” Armin spoke softly, hand slipping under your shirt, spreading across your stomach. The man lowered until he was face to face with your slit, unfazed by the blood upon it.

You whimpered the moment his thick tongue glided up— hole to clit, hands reaching down to rest upon his hair. A soft groan escaped the man, rising up whilst licking his lips clean of your mess. It was clear all restraints were gone now, the wild look in his eyes causing your stomach to stir.

“Do you know how long I waited for this?” The man questioned you, resting on one hand; the other’s fingers gently gliding up and down cunt, collecting your mixed essence and blood. “You were gonna drive me crazy one day; parading in such small shorts, showcasing your skin to me.” His words escaped him shamelessly, fingers pushing past your folds to gently brush your clit, moving away before you could even moan.

“You wanted this from the beginning.. didn’t you?” Armin suddenly spoke, escaping the trance to look at your face. He watched as you shook your head far too quickly, a small no even escaping you. That alone caused his reddened lips to curl into a smile, “You should leave the lying to me, sweetheart.”

You gasped the moment he dove back down, lips pressed against your wet slit. The man wasted no time in allow his tongue to glide across your slit, pushing to licking at your clit. Your taste, your smell— it was enough to have him groan right into your pussy, drinking every crimson droplet that escaped you.

You thought you would feel uncomfortable, maybe even a little gross; getting ate out in such a state. But those thoughts melted the minute his lips wrapped around your swelling bud, teasing you gently with the points of his fangs. Your back was rising from the cushion now, squirming upon the towel underneath you.

Your hands lowered to his hair, fingers curling in the blonde tresses for a tight hold. With the way his tongue was moving against you, you needed leverage; you needed an anchor. You felt far too pliable, melting into the feeling as wanton moans escaped your slick lips.

Gasps of his name, sweet whispers of how good it felt. Your arousal mixed with blood was trickling freely from your entrance, making such a mess; one that Armin lapped up far too eagerly.

And the moment you felt his thick tongue curl inside your awaiting hole, oh— you were finished.

“Hah.. Fuck, Armin—!” You hissed softly, feeling the wet muscle twist and turn inside you, brushing against your gummy walls and delving on you like a meal.

Which, to Armin, you were.

The man groaned into you in response, hands moving to your thighs and gripping; halting your moving. You were forced to lay there as he ate you, a band forming within your stomach; long replacing the agonizing cramps.

Your moans bounced off the living room walls, face turning into the cushions as hot pants escaped you. Your toes were curling, a sweat presenting itself upon your forehead as the pleasure consumed you full; flooding his mouth with more crimson arousal.

Armin drunk you up eagerly, fingers digging into your skin to keep to right there. He licked you clean, leaving no spot untouched; savoring his plate. After moments of this pleasure it melted into overstimulated torture, hands falling and pushing against his head.

“A—armin.. fuck, I can’t—“ Your eyebrows were pushing close, rising to sit up; gasping the moment he tugged, forcing you to fall back on the cushions. His face was flush against your messy cunt, drinking you up completely. Little tears formed in your eyes, legs moving as your stomach clenched and clenched.

Your worried words fell on deaf ears, literally. With how much your warm thighs were wrapping around his head, he could barely hear a damn thing. Even so, Armin refused to leave— not until you came on his tongue again.

With more fearsome licks and sucks, hands massaging your skin as if coaxing you— Armin felt his dick jump the moment you cried out for him, coming all over his tongue again.

“Taste.. so good, so fucking good princess…” He drawled right into your center, the vibrations of his voice causing you to keen. Unlike before, he let up from licking you dry, raising from between your legs— a complete mess.

You watched as Armin’s tongue licked the rest of your taste off his lips, his eyes closed; relishing it.

His hands slowly dropped your body to the cushion, hand curling under his shirt and pulling it off his body. Once off, the man used it to wipe his face— tossing it to the ground shortly after.

He’d wash it later.

Armin moved to hover above you, hand falling to your chin and turning to looking at your eyes. The man smiled the moment your hand wrapped around his wrist, leaning down and pressing a wet kiss to your cheek. “Your cramps gone?” He asked in a soft, coy tone. The small huff you released caused the man to chuckle, moving to plant his lips on your own.

You moaned as his tongue intruded your mouth, ignoring the foreign taste of yourself on your tongue. Instead, you focused on him sucking your own wet muscle whilst his hand lowered to your covered chest, a thumb brushing over your hardening nipple. Your soft pants entered his mouth, hips rising against him; caring less if you soiled his pants.

And it seemed he didn’t either, hand gripping your hip and grinding back against you. Your hands traveled up his back, a hiss escaping him from how your short nails dragged across his cool, uncovered skin.

Pulling back, Armin stared down at you, taking in your bruised lips and the clear want swimming within your dark eyes. To add to the pretty picture was your bonnet slipping off your head, exposing the perfect boho braids you’ve recently got; edges sweated off.

“Such a mess.” The man murmured softly, hand rising and treading from your neck to your cheek; cupping it to allow his thumb to drag under your eye. “My pretty mess..” Armin dragged, leaning closer as his hand released your face, falling to his hips to tug down his sweats and boxers.

Your noses brushed together, your soft breaths fanning against his face. “Yours..” You murmured back, staring into his eyes. Such words brought a smile to his face, stealing your lips in another kiss while his tip brushed against your soaked slit.

Pushing you wider, Armin angled to slowly push inside, gripping your thigh the moment you tensed up. He pulled back from the kiss, forehead rested against your own. “Mm, don’t tense up; relax for me.. Just, relax.” He cooed softly, thumb tracing the stretch marks that littered your hips. With less effort he pushed all the way inside, praising you softly;

“Taking me so well, pretty.. such a good girl.” Armin spoke, chuckling at the small whine that escaped you. Pressing a gentle kiss to the space between your eyes, the vampire rose to rest on his hunches. He observed you closely, searching for any sign of restraint or discomfort. The moment he discovered neither, he was pulling his hips back until only the tip was inside.

Armin then plunged his hips forward, the wet sound echoing in the room; followed by your soft moan. His hands moved to your hips, starting a languid pace. Despite how good you felt around his throbbing length, you didn’t want to hurt him. Despite how sweet your moans were, he controlled himself in fear of harming you.

But, you were far from compliant with the current pace.

Your hips rose to meet a thrust, the action alone causing a moan to escape the both of you.

“N—need more, Min.. please.” Was the soft beg that escaped your slick lips, rocking your hips; watching the way his eyebrows creased and lip was caught under his fangs.

His restraint was dwindling with each roll of your hips, each sickeningly sweet plead that escaped your throat. Finally Armin’s inhibitions melted away, the slow; carful moans switching into fast snaps of his hips.

Your head landed against the plush cushions, crying out as your legs wrapped around his waist. He was drilling you into the mattress at this point, a harsh grip to keep you in place as he fucked you. A string of curses escaped you, gripping the towel underneath you as your feet bounced with each thrust.

Armin lowered, the new angle causing your swollen bud to brush against his pelvic area; the new sensation completely turning your brain into mush. The man enjoyed it all, glancing down at you in complete awe. You looked far too beautiful like this, far too—

“Perfect.. so fucking perfect— fu..fuck—“ The man hissed, pressing an arm above your head whilst the other grabbed your cheeks. “Look at me, princess.. that’s it, keep your eyes on me. Watch how well you take me.” His words were driving you deeper and deeper, your walls clenching as jumbled cries of his name escaped you.

“A—armin—!”

His eyes were rolling back at the call of his name, drilling into you as he leaned down to your neck. Between the harsh bouncing of your body his fangs sunk right through your skin, gripping you even closer the moment a shriek escaped you.

A guttural groan escaped Armin as he delved on your blood, hissing the moment you creamed all over his cock. Yet, his hips never stopped; continuing to ruin you, using his form to keep you laid out and open on the couch.

Your eyes were meeting your skull, lips parted as shameless noises leaped from your raw throat. Soon he let up, licking the wound from his fangs and moving to be face to face with you again.

“Taking me so good, princess— like your.. fu—fucking made for me, shit—“ Armin closed his eyes tight, feeling his orgasm build. Your velvety walls were clenching him so nicely, pulsing around his heavy length with each drag of his hips. His balls were slapping against your center, the wet strikes entering the room of sex and combined moans.

Tears trailed from your eyes, staining your brown, chubby cheeks as your hand carried to his hip. Despite the pleasure, the pain of another orgasm was approaching; your body writhing as you furiously shook your head. “Fuck, I— fuck, I can’t Min!” You whined out, breath bitching as a feverish kiss was placed to your forehead.

His face was close now, nose brushing your own as his lips ghosted your own. “You’ve been so good so far, don’t stop now sweet girl.” Armin hissed between clenched teeth, a hand falling from your hip between your conjoined bodies. The moment his fingers rubbed against your little bud you were arching, the vampire easily chasing your body to continue the harsh circles.

“Fuck, fuck! Armin—!”

“That’s it, baby.. let it out, don’t hold it.” The man coaxed softly, eyebrows creasing as he felt his own orgasm arriving. Armin watched intently as your stiffened, a drawn out cry of his name escaping you while making a complete mess of his lower half. “That’s my girl.. my good fucking girl.” He leaned to plant another kiss to your lips all while his hips never stopped their pace.

Soon enough, a harsh groan entered your mouth as he flooded you with his come; some spilling out from inside.

You pulled back from his lips for air, clinging to him with your eyes pinched closed. Your body was aching, you felt sweaty, and frankly gross— but you didn’t care. Not one bit.

A subtle whine escaped you the moment Armin pulled out from you, his gaze settled on his come escaping you. With a slow rub of his thumb against your skin, the man leaned to stamp a kiss right above your heart. “I’ll start the shower up.”

You watched as he stepped off the couch, moving to walk over to the bathroom— only for your voice to stop him.

“Armin.. those bottles in the fridge, they weren’t blood right?”

He looked at you for a long moment before a little grin pulled his features. “No. Just the ones in back. I knew you would pick from the front.”

With that Armin resumed his walk to the bathroom, leaving you there; feeling just a little stupid.

Well, at least you were right. Your good friend of two years turned roommate turned something more— was definitely a vampire.

REBLOGS & COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED <3

#mani writes ━━ ★#black!reader #mdni #attack on titan #attack on titan smut #armin arlert #armin arlet x reader #armin arlet smut #armin arlet x black reader #armin arlet x you #armin arlet x female reader #armin arlet x fem reader #armin x reader #armin x y/n #armin x blk reader #armin x black reader #x black reader #vampire au #true blood inspired

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sleepless-in-southlands · 10 months

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The House Always Wins (With You, I Never Lose)

Ao3

Summary: A look into both the pasts and presents of Grian, Mumbo, and Scar. Content: AU- Mob Bosses, violence, homoromanticism; betrayal, (neck) injury, trust issues, bad ways of addressing trust issues, threats, tension like you wouldn't believe, obligatory characters not CCs Pairings: Romantic scar/mumbo, fruity as FUCK grumbo + scarian they just refuse to say it Notes: Part four of the Bloody Fruits au, chapter three (scar) of The House Always Wins (chap1 grian - chap2 mumbo)

Past

“I think a toast is in order, wouldn’t you say, Scar? To the coming glory of the Glass Empire!”

Scar had a few choice words to say about that supposed glory, and if it weren’t for the fact he was nearly choking himself trying to keep his carotid from bleeding him dry, he might have made them known. Although he had a funny feeling his extremely fired right-hand could guess most of them.

In theory, the night should have been a celebration. The Empire had recently made a few well-placed territory expanses and suffered minimal blowback from the other organizations in town for them, their ranks had grown, their various fronts had been making more money- all good news! The perfect reason for Scar to settle down with his closest confidant for a night of light bookwork and congratulatory chatter.

And then Dolos had lunged at him with a knife, and the whole evening went downhill faster than a rollercoaster.

“Nothing to say, hm?” Dolos asked mockingly, overexaggerating a frown at Scar’s silence. “You’re usually so talkative.”

Even if he could speak right then, Scar wasn’t feeling very chatty anymore. Not verbally, anyways. But if Dolos were to just lend him his knife for a moment, Scar was sure he would be able to communicate a few points well enough.

A gun would have been helpful, but he had made the (in hindsight) poor decision to take off his holster, leaving it and its weapon hanging over the back of his chair. The only plus to this choice was the fact that Dolos had followed his lead, leaving both of them without a firearm. Technically Dolos could retrieve one if he so desired, but that would require him turning his back on Scar, and he wasn’t quite stupid enough to do that.

But he still had the knife, dripping crimson from where it had made a good mess of most of Scar’s upper half before hitting its favourite mark in his neck, and that meant Dolos still had the advantage.

“I know you might not want to see it my way, but you can understand how this is for the best, can’t you?” Dolos was steadily approaching where Scar had backed himself into a wall, unhurried. “I mean, really! Not seeing this coming? What sort of boss doesn’t even notice when their right-hand starts aiming for them?”

Scar gritted his teeth. So Dolos had been a blindspot. Isn’t that the point of a right-hand man? To take care of the threats that get too close? Excuse Scar for trusting him to do his job!

(A voice that matched Dolos’s in the back of Scar’s mind refused to do so. A mob boss, trusting someone? Had he really expected that to end any other way? He truly was unfit for his title.)

“I suppose it doesn’t really matter now.” Dolos continued, ignoring Scar’s internal debates. He paused in his advance, close enough that he could nick Scar’s chin if he fully extended his arm. “Seeing as how I’ll be relieving you of your position posthaste.”

Scar dug his fingers into his neck, as if trying to meld his palm to the wound. He wanted to snap something about over my dead body, but given that seemed to be the plan, he doubted it would have much impact.

Dolos took another step closer, twirling the blade he was about to put through Scar’s chest between his fingers like it was a dinnerware utensil. “Any final words? Or would you prefer to go with some dignity, for once?”

The thought of spitting one last curse at Dolos, however effective, was a tempting one. It would be the last thing Scar ever said, yes, but his time was already up on that front. Might as well go out with a bang.

Before Scar could settle on something even slightly clever to say, however, both he and Dolos were startled by the sound of the office door opening.

“Hey, sorry to bother you two during the celebration, but there’s-” Bdubs looked up from the paper in his hand as he entered the room, sentence dying as he took in the scene before him. Within the half second it took him to process it, the paper was discarded, Bdubs’s gun drawn before it was even halfway to the ground. He aimed it at a midpoint between Scar and Dolos, gaze flickering between the two men. “What exactly is going on here?”

Dolos recovered from his shock at the interruption too fast for Scar’s liking. “Exactly what it looks like, I should imagine.”

Bbuds’s grip tightened on his gun, adjusting his aim to point more towards Dolos. “It looks like you’re trying to kill my boss. Which isn’t going to end well for you, I should imagine.”

It was with satisfaction that Scar noted the sarcasm in Bdubs’s tone as he echoed Dolos’s words back at him. If Bdubs was on his side, he had a chance. But only if Bdubs silenced Dolos before he started talking again. If Dolos was able to convince Bdubs to help him-

“Now, now, there’s no need to be so hasty. Think about this for a moment.” Dolos’s voice was charming, his words casual despite the situation. Scar slumped against the wall he was pressed to. “This Empire needs fresh blood. The boss always has to step down at some point to make way for the future. I’m just bringing the future on a little faster.”

“And if I’m happy with the present?”

“You’re not thinking of the big picture. Once I replace Scar here, I’m going to need my own right-hand. And you, Bdubs… well, I think you could be just the guy for the job.” Dolos explained, smirking like he had already won. “All that stands between you and that position is one Scar Chronos.”

Bdubs glanced over at Scar as Dolos finished his proposition, face unreadable. Not for the first time since Dolos had begun slashing at him, but possibly for the last, Scar wished he could speak. To make his case to Bdubs, make his own offers, whatever it would take to keep the only active gun in the room on his side.

But he couldn’t, the risk of worsening his injuries past the point of recovery too great to take. So long as Scar couldn’t speak, Dolos had every advantage, including Bdubs.

Scar closed his eyes, accepting his fate and bracing himself. Maybe if he was very, very lucky, Bdubs would suddenly become a terrible shot, and he’d have a chance to viciously fling himself at Dolos one last time and try to claw out one of his eyes or give him blood poisoning. If those were his last moments, Scar could die at least somewhat content.

He flinched when Bdubs’s gun fired, less from the sound and more in expectation of the usual pain that came with a bullet wound.

…None did.

Confused, Scar slowly opened his eyes, wondering if his last minute wish had come true and Bdubs had somehow missed. His gun was lowered, his stance slightly more relaxed than it had been, suggesting he had indeed fired. But his angle was all wrong if he had been aiming at Scar, his line of sight focused on the floor across from the boss. Scar followed his gaze.

Dolos was splayed on the ground, expression still smug despite the fact that his skull was shattered and his brain was splattered across the office’s cheap tile. The knife he had been advancing on Scar with was still in his hand, but his grip on it was loose, if the slight curling of a dead man’s fingers could be considered a grip at all.

“Oh.” The sound slipped past Scar’s lips, weak and gargled, as he realized what had happened. Bdubs hadn’t sided with Dolos. He hadn’t shot Scar.

Not that it mattered, Scar considered as his legs gave out on him and he slid down the wall, given he was still going to die. At least Dolos was dead too.

Bdubs was at his side in a moment, Scar having missed the point where he re-holstered his gun and pulled out his phone. He was speaking to whoever he was calling, not Scar, which was likely a good thing given Scar wasn’t entirely sure what he was saying. It sounded like orders.

Distracted by trying to figure out what Bdubs was saying, Scar didn’t notice Bdubs’s free hand reaching out until it was on Scar’s neck. Instinctively, Scar tried to pull back and out of Bdubs’s reach, but his employee just followed the motion through the few inches Scar managed to move. It took Scar a moment to realize that all he was doing was putting pressure on the wound Scar himself was covering, not trying to strangle Scar or cause more damage.

“-ar? Scar?”

And in that moment, apparently, Bdubs had once again changed, phone put away and full attention directed towards Scar. He was frowning, concerned. “Scar? You with me?”

Scar managed what was less of a nod and more him bumping his head into the wall behind him.

“Alright. Try to stay conscious if you can, okay? I’ve called some of our people. Only the ones we can trust, who have the least connection to… your former business partner.” Bdubs's tone was professional and collected despite the situation, only dipping into disdain at the mention of Dolos. “I suspect the Empire may have to perform some spring cleaning after this, but that will have to wait.”

Everything Bdubs was saying made sense. Mob bosses weren't overthrown without backup, and Scar needed help, not a knife in his back. Any co-conspirators would have to be found and dealt with accordingly, but not while Scar was half-alive and weak, which was why Bdubs was focusing on deciding who could still be trusted rather than who had to go- although Scar wouldn’t be surprised if he learned Bdubs was also starting that list in the back of his mind.

What didn’t make sense was the fact that Scar was still alive for any of it to matter. The cut across his throat might not be fatal, but the person currently helping him hold it shut should have been.

After all, if Dolos would betray Scar, why wouldn’t Bdubs? Forget being a right-hand, Bdubs could take over the Glass Empire all by himself as long as he played his cards right, and Scar knew that Bdubs knew enough about their business to do so. Once again, all that stood between Bdubs and an entire kingdom to himself was Scar, and Bdubs was smart enough to know that too.

Which made it rather odd that Scar wasn’t yet dead. Bdubs wasn’t usually this bad at killing people. He took care of Dolos without any issue.

“Something you want to say, Scar?” Bdubs said his name with an unusual stress on the ‘s’ sound, the remnant of how he used to call him ‘sir’ until Scar had personally requested he just call him by his name, twice. He was looking quizzically at Scar, and it took Scar a moment to realize that he was returning Scar’s own pensive look, having got so caught up in his thoughts he hadn’t noticed himself staring. “You look… troubled.”

Scar made a vague gesture with the hand that had been holding his neck together before Bdubs took over.

“I guess you can’t really say anything, huh?” Bdubs caught on. “Well, we’ve got time, and I need to keep you awake. Is it a concern about any of your injuries?”

Scar shook his head.

“Concern about how trustworthy the people I’ve called are?”

Another shake.

“Did you see Dolos’s hand twitch and think he might get back up? I can shoot him again if you want.”

Scar managed a small smile at the lightness to Bdubs’s voice before once again shaking his head.

“It can’t be anything too pressing then, which is good.” Bdubs shifted slightly, settling himself more comfortably without taking any pressure off of Scar’s injury. “Is it about Dolos? His betrayal, what it means for your empire?”

Scar shook his head after a pause. Dolos had started this whole mess, but he was no longer the focus of it.

Bdubs paused as well, taking a moment to think before he asked his next question. “Is it about me?”

A slow nod.

“Is it about how I could kill you, right now, and have the Glass Empire to myself? And you’re not sure why I haven’t yet?”

Scar didn’t move his head, as if it was a trick question and the moment that he confirmed his doubts Bdubs would turn on him and do exactly what he had described. But his lack of answer was just as damning as a yes, Bdubs nodding to himself in lieu of Scar’s, and Scar braced himself as best he could for whatever Bdubs would do next.

“The main reason is that I don’t want the Glass Empire.”

Of all the things Scar was expecting Bdubs to say, the idea that he wouldn’t want to take over as boss of one of Heremita’s main mobs was low on the list, if it was even on there at all. For the average person, sure, it was a perfectly acceptable response. For someone like Scar and Bdubs? Not so much.

“I don’t want to be one of the bosses in general.” Bdubs went on, what Scar assumed to be a clarifying statement only confusing him more. “And if I did, I’d start my own organization to run, not backstab my way into the position.”

Given their line of business, and given the slowly-cooling corpse sitting five feet from the two of them, the sentiment of wanting to make an honest dishonest living was oddly admirable to Scar. Foolish, perhaps, but it hadn’t seemed to have gotten Bdubs killed yet.

“Doesn’t mean I want to be a lackey forever. I do have slightly higher aspirations than cannon fodder, even if I don’t want to be boss. I think I could make a good right-hand.” Bdubs’s voice got tight, and he spared a surprisingly venomous look back at the remains of Dolos. “But not his.”

Scar let his head rest on the wall, the effort of keeping it supported on its own starting to become a strain. Part of him wanted to make a joke about what elevated Scar over Dolos- his charisma? his good looks? the fact that his name was objectively cooler? Part of him was starting to wonder just how much blood he had lost.

He settled for the middle ground of not thinking about it and instead fixing Bdubs with as puzzled of an expression as he could manage, hoping it would be enough to prompt the rest of the explanation from him.

It worked, Bdubs noticing his look as soon as he had turned back towards Scar. “Let me guess: ‘what’s so wrong with my traitorous deceased right-hand?’ I didn’t think I’d need to explain that one to you, Scar, given the situation.”

Scar lightly tapped his own chest, doing his best to indicate yeah, that’s why I don’t like him. Why do you care so much that he tried to kill me?

As if Bdubs could hear Scar’s unvoiced question, he shrugged. “If he’s willing to betray his boss as a right-hand, what would stop him from betraying his right-hand as a boss? I have better odds running errands in enemy territory than standing at his side.”

Mentally, Scar conceded to Bdubs’s logic. A traitor didn’t just make for a bad subordinate.

“Besides, it’s one thing for a lackey to try and go after a higher up. But a betrayal between a boss and their right-hand man?” The casual tone Bdubs had carried for most of the one-sided conversation dropped suddenly, voice hard. “Dolos deserved worse than a bullet to the head.”

Scar raised an eyebrow but didn’t try to push Bdubs to say anything else. He could tell it was personal. He didn’t need to pry.

The sound of cars coming to a fast stop in front of the building seemed to snap Bdubs out of his thoughts. He put his free hand on his holstered gun, seemingly more as a precaution than a necessity.

“That should be our people.” Bdubs informed him, giving Scar a quick once-over as if to remind himself of his condition. “We’ll make sure you get through this, and hold down fort until you can take back over. And I’ll make it clear as glass that anyone who wants to take advantage of the situation can join Dolos in whichever empty lot or dirty harbor he gets dumped in.”

Scar managed a slight nod before the office door was opening, people Scar could recognize as some of the Empire’s filing in and Bdubs launching into directing them about. The sudden uptick in activity and noise was too much for Scar to focus on, and he let the ruckus wash over him as Bdubs handled it. Despite the blow his trust had just taken, Bdubs’s conviction against Dolos and inexplicable lack of desire to be a boss seemed sturdy enough for him to rely on.

Plus, assuming he truly did survive the next few days, he’d be the one needing to replace his former close confidant. And Bdubs had said he’d make a good right-hand man. Scar could consider this his test run.

And even though he had no reason to, Scar had a good feeling about how Bdubs would do.

Present

“Mumbo, dear, as much as I appreciate the thought, I really don’t need you to have your waiter tortured and killed for me.”

Mumbo, who, unfairly, seemed more upset about the situation than Scar was, frowned. “It won’t be any trouble.”

“I know it won’t be, but that doesn’t mean it’s necessary.” Scar leaned back on Mumbo’s desk, one hand braced against the wood. His cane rested beside him. “Accidents happen! Not every injury is the result of an attempted murder.”

“Maybe accidents would happen less if those who caused them were… made an example of.”

“They tripped, Mumbo, that can happen to anyone.”

Mumbo crossed his arms, seemingly unwilling to let Scar’s lighthearted mood get to him. “You’re hurt.”

Scar bit back a joke about how he hadn’t forgotten that. He could tell from Mumbo’s tone, and the way he was looking at Scar, that he wasn’t just referring to the physical cut.

And, yes, perhaps he should have realized how obvious he was being. Despite his own attempts to write off the injury as nothing more than a scratch, his hand was pressed over it hard enough to bruise his neck, as if he might bleed out if he loosened his grip in the slightest. And while he had allowed Mumbo to lead him into the End Crystal’s office, he had pulled away from him almost as soon as they were inside the room, rushing to put space between the two of them.

A space Mumbo hadn’t tried to enter, standing across from his own desk at a respectful distance, looking the entire time as though he wanted to step closer but knew it wouldn’t end well. The similarity of the situation to the one with Mumbo’s former bartender was not missed by Scar.

“I’ll be alright.” He said instead, trying his best to sound reassuring. “I’ve survived worse.”

Mumbo’s eyes flickered the slightest bit downwards, right to the proof of Scar’s claim, and his frown deepened. Scar shifted his hand slightly so as to cover more of his neck as he looked away from Mumbo.

Now neither of them were feeling reassured. Scar was doing spectacular.

The door to the office quickly opened and closed, and Scar turned his gaze towards Grian as he approached the two of them. He came to a stop next to Mumbo, easily picking up on the purposeful space that had been put between him and Scar. Similar to Mumbo, Grian looked more agitated than Scar felt he had the right to.

“Everything’s been cleaned up, and security detained the server without issue.” Grian informed them, glancing at where Scar’s cut was hidden underneath his hand. “Once we attend to you, Mr. Chronos, me and Mr. Eris can… discuss what happened today with them.”

“You know how much I love seeing you two beat up people and call it a discussion, Grian,” Scar put emphasis on Grian’s name, still in the process of trying to convince the South (namely, his boyfriend and his boyfriend’s not-boyfriend) that it was ok to use his first name, even when none of them were actively dying, “but it’s really not necessary in this case.”

Grian frowned. “It won’t be any trouble.”

“That’s what I said.” Mumbo grumbled.

“Yes, yes, it’s impressive how in sync you two are. Have you ever tried the newlywed game?” The only response Scar received were two near identical unamused stares. He decided not to comment on how they weren’t exactly proving him wrong. “Hey now, I don’t think you’re allowed to be angry at the injured guy.”

Mumbo sighed. “Are you sure you don’t want us to do anything to them?”

“Positive.”

“What if we do something anyway?”

Scar tilted towards Grian. “The End Crystal needs to maintain a somewhat nice reputation, doesn’t it? I feel like bleeding someone dry for tripping would achieve the opposite effect.”

“We’d be fine,” Grian replied, sounding sullen as he continued on with, “but I suppose I can tell security to let them go this time. Though they’re still fired.”

“They probably already quit.” Scar pointed out. Grian shrugged.

“I’ll leave them to squirm a bit before finding out.”

“You may as well hand them their termination papers now.” Mumbo said, looking apologetic when Grian glanced over at him. “I was refilling the office first aid kit when Mr. Chronos came over and left it in the storeroom. If you wouldn’t mind grabbing it, you can also let our former employee know their services are no longer needed here.”

Grian rolled his eyes, though the gesture lacked the typical annoyance that came with it. “You’re a spoon.” He told Mumbo before turning back towards the door, heading off to do as he had been indirectly asked.

Scar shifted uncomfortably. “You don’t, uh, need to do that. The Glass Empire has sufficient resources.”

“As does the South.” Mumbo responded, bemused. “Similar to our reputation, our supplies will withstand you using a few.”

Again, Scar looked away from Mumbo. From the corner of his eye, he could see Mumbo’s frown return right before he took a single step toward Scar.

In an instant, Scar’s eyes were back on Mumbo as he flinched back, pressing closer to the desk, body tensing and gaze wary. It suddenly didn’t matter that Mumbo was his ally and his partner, that he had no reason right then to hurt Scar, that both he and Grian could have killed Scar a dozen times over on any given day he spent with them and had never tried. All that mattered was that he was too close to Mumbo, physically and otherwise. All that mattered was that he trusted Mumbo.

A mob boss, trusting someone? Had he really expected that to end any other way?

Scar dug his fingers into both wood and flesh. He wouldn’t go down without a fight. Whatever Mumbo did next, he was ready for it.

…Admittedly, he was not ready for Mumbo to immediately step back, raising his hands placatingly.

“Sorry, sorry, didn’t mean to get in your space.” Mumbo apologized, as if there still hadn't been a solid five feet between the two of them, as if Scar wasn’t in the epicenter of what was most certainly Mumbo’s space, not his. “This is going to make bandaging your neck a tad tricky, though.”

"I can do that myself." Scar replied, confused but no less defensive.

"Are you sure that you should?" Mumbo asked, rushing on before Scar could respond, "I think- I think you want it bandaged right, and that's hard to do on your own."

Scar floundered. Mumbo was right, as much as he didn't want to acknowledge it (Mumbo knew him; Mumbo knew him). The cut wasn't very big, and for anyone else, it'd be easy enough to handle, but it wasn't anyone else. Scar needed help. Scar couldn't accept any help.

“Bdubs.” Scar forced out after a too long moment of silence. “He can… he’ll know what to do.”

Mumbo graciously didn’t point out the fact that wrapping up a small cut wasn’t very complicated to figure out. “Alright. Do you want to call him over here? Or, er, do you want to go back to your shop and meet him there?”

The way Mumbo paused on the second option made it clear which of the two choices he preferred, and Scar hated that he agreed. He would be safer in his offices over the End Crystal’s, but the journey to get there posed its own set of risks. He had the advantage of limited entrances and limited possible assailants in the room, and the fewer people who saw him clutching at a scratch like it was a fatal wound, the better.

You’d be safer taking an unarmed nightly stroll than you are here, a voice that had never stopped sounding like Dolos’s reminded him, snide and rotting, danger’s part of the job; trust is what gets you killed.

“Can you get him?” Scar asked, keeping his eyes on Mumbo despite wanting to look away, “He was pretty busy when I left. I don’t know if he’ll pick up my call.”

It was a lie, and a bad one at that. Bdubs was a right-hand, it was his job to drop everything to answer Scar's calls. But he needed an excuse to get Mumbo out, to get him away from Scar, and it was the first one that came to mind.

Mumbo took it without question, as if it was a reasonable thing for Scar to ask, as if it wasn't just Scar pushing the boss out of his own office. "If that’s what will help you, then of course. Do you want me to take Mr. Penemue with me?”

Mumbo was willing to get Bdubs. Mumbo was willing to get Bdubs himself, not by sending a lackey to fetch him. Mumbo was willing to get Bdubs and leave Scar, alone, in his office. Mumbo was willing to get Bdubs with Grian and leave Scar completely alone in the heart of his organization. Scar was starting to feel like he was the one who needed to be warning Mumbo about trust. Scar couldn’t make a sound. “He wouldn’t like that.”

“He’d understand.”

“He still wouldn’t like it.” Grian trusted Scar more than Scar had ever imagined he would- given Grian was actually willing to leave him alone with Mumbo- but Scar knew there were some things that never changed. Grian would spend the entire trip to fetch Bdubs thinking through every possible thing Scar could be doing in their absence, and the second he got back he’d rewatch his eyes’ footage five times over again just to be certain Scar truly hadn’t done anything more exciting than shift in place.

In response, Mumbo switched tactics. “Are you going to be alright if he stays here?”

It was a fair question. Scar was clearly flighty with only Mumbo. It didn’t make sense for him to be better off with his right-hand. He didn’t know Grian as well. He didn’t trust Grian as much.

And that was the kicker, wasn’t it? Scar didn’t trust Grian, not like he trusted Mumbo. He wouldn’t be nearly as surprised if Grian tried to take him out now. That made Grian safer.

“It’s ok, Mumbo. I won’t mind.”

Mumbo studied Scar’s expression, trying to see if there was any sign of him lying, as if it wasn’t better for him if he left Grian behind to keep an eye on everything. Then, he nodded once, a self-confirmation of whatever he had determined in that moment. “Alright.”

Before Scar had a chance to argue Mumbo’s acceptance- why was he so willing to do what Scar asked? didn’t he understand the danger?- Grian returned, so well-timed Scar wouldn’t be surprised if he had planned it. He was carrying a dark case that looked about the right size to fit into a desk drawer, sleek and unassuming despite the reinforced lock on it.

Mumbo turned towards Grian as he stopped beside him, once again giving Scar a wide berth of space he had no right to. “I have to go fetch Mr. Centuria for Mr. Chronos, won’t be long.”

Grian inclined his head, glancing at Scar, glancing at the distance still separating him from them. “Do you want me to come with you?” He asked, because even Mumbo’s over-protective-to-a-fault boyfriend of a bodyguard was willing to put Scar above logic, for some damned reason.

“No need. I’ll be quick.”

And Grian accepted that, with a nod and a small touch as Mumbo passed him and headed out of the office, as if it was logical, as if anything they were currently doing made any sense given who they were. Grian switched the case between his hands, looking thoughtfully at Scar.

“You seem… perplexed.” Grian said after a moment, stressing the word to imply the inherent understatement in it.

“If Mumbo had asked you to come with him, you would have… just gone?”

“I always do what Mr. Eris asks of me.”

A lie, unless Grian didn’t count Mumbo asking him to rest as a real request- but that was beside the point. “And you think that would’ve been safe?”

The corner of Grian’s mouth turned up in the slightest indication of a smirk, though the expression didn’t seem amused, more perfunctory. “You’re hardly a threat, Mr. Chronos.”

Scar glared at Grian, though it wasn’t strong enough to elicit any reaction from him. Scar had the sneaking suspicion even a truly harsh look wouldn’t inspire much more than a raised eyebrow from the right-hand. “I’m not Mumbo.”

“You’re not.” Grian acknowledged gracefully, ignoring the low-blow in Scar’s words. Scar almost wished he hadn’t. It’d be easier to be fighting, to know Grian was against him, rather than going through the polite business motions Grian was so good at and Scar so hated. “And I’m not Mr. Centuria-”

“Bdubs, just call him by his name, it’s Bdubs-”

“-yet you didn’t mind me staying.” Grian finished, shutting Scar up. Grian tilted his head, gaze piercing. “I’m neither your right-hand man, nor your partner, but I’m still here. You had Mumbo leave, but you’ve passed the opportunities presented to you to have me do so as well. You want me here, for some reason, but your interactions with me are currently bordering on hostile.”

The unspoken why? in Grian’s words was loud, but Scar couldn’t bring himself to answer it. There was no good way to explain that he didn’t trust Grian, that he was waiting for even the slightest indication Grian was going to turn on him, and that was why he could stay but Mumbo couldn’t. There was no good way to explain that, despite all that, Scar couldn’t bring himself to jeopardize the safety Grian so carefully cultivated for himself and Mumbo in the End Crystal. There was no good way to explain any of it, so Scar steadily met Grian’s eyes instead, saying nothing.

A long minute passed like that, neither of them speaking or breaking eye contact. Scar’s fingers dug deeper into his neck with each second that passed in the silence, waiting for the tension to snap, for Grian to make his move. It was a perfect time to strike, and Grian wouldn’t catch Scar by surprise.

Grian sighed. “Do you want help stemming the blood?”

Alright, that caught Scar by surprise. He tamped down on the highly irrational urge to ask Grian to just stab him already. “What?”

“I could bandage it too, but I presume that’s why Mr. Centuria is coming over.” Grian’s tone was largely professional, but the usual edge on it was soft in a way Scar knew was deliberate. “And I won’t get close unless you want me to.”

“I won’t move my hand.” Scar said, in lieu of I can’t move my hand, of did you hear your own double meaning, of why would you want to.

“Your palm isn’t very absorbent.” Grian replied, not missing a beat, not giving away anything outside of the exact words he spoke. “I can clean up what slips through. Up to you.”

Though his behaviour spoke to the contrary, Scar knew the cut on his throat wasn’t nearly bad enough to warrant such attention. At most, a few drops of blood had trickled past his hand, and Scar wasn’t particularly worried about them.

Grian knew that too. His demeanour was unrevealing, unreadable, but his manner didn’t change how he was trying to produce any reason to get close to Scar. It was suspicious. Dangerous. Untrustworthy.

And wasn’t that exactly why Scar had been fine with Grian staying?

“You don’t have to do that.” Scar waited a beat, trying to gauge any reaction from Grian. Predictably, there were none. “But you can get close anyways, if you want.”

“You’re certain?” Grian asked, even as he took a step forward, testing the waters as he dropped the case in his hand into one of the chairs facing Mumbo’s desk.

“Positive.”

Grian continued his approach, each step measured, lingering a second longer than necessary with each one. He went further than Scar entirely expected, only coming to a stop when he was directly in front of him. The space left between them was courteous, but slim compared to the wide margin that had been there. A good distance to attack from.

With his hands free, Grian crossed his arms, fingers visibly splayed over the fabric of his suit. Not a very pragmatic stance- it would take him a moment to reach one of his weapons and actually use it, and that would give Scar an opening.

“Can I ask how you got it?” Meanwhile, Grian apparently remained intent on using his strategy of blindsiding Scar without so much as raising a finger. “The scar.”

“...You can ask.”

Grian huffed, eyes crinkling just enough to make it a laugh. “Can I know if they’re dead, at least?”

“What if I said I tripped?”

“I’d know you were lying. But I wouldn’t push.”

“How accommodating.”

“The End Crystal offers only the best in service to our voluntary visitors.”

Scar looked away from Grian, watching him from the corner of his eye. True to his word, Grian didn’t push, didn’t try to make a move while Scar was feigning distraction. Why had he even wanted to get closer? What was he going to do?

“He’s dead.”

“Was it slow?”

“As slow as a bullet to the head is.”

Grian tsked. “Pity.”

Scar turned his gaze back to Grian, a half-teasing, half-provoking comment dying on his tongue when he realized that Grian’s focus had dropped from his face to his neck, looking at the scar in the same way Mumbo had. But that couldn’t be right. That would mean something Scar hadn’t calculated for.

“Back in our old town,” Grian started, and if Scar didn’t know better, he’d describe the words as halting, “Mumbo’s first right-hand tried to have me killed.”

Scar’s eyes widened. Grian’s fingers twitched, still staring at the remnants of the large cut that had nearly taken Scar’s life, and for a fleeting moment Scar imagined him reaching out, tracing the line of the scar.

“I know what betrayal looks like.” Grian added, gaze drifting back up to meet Scar’s. “What happens when someone gets too close.”

Scar’s chest felt tight. Why was he so close? “Are they dead?”

“Yes.”

“Was it slow?”

Grian smirked, the sharp edges of his teeth showing as he leaned forward, resting some of his weight on the desk. “Agonizingly.”

Grian had a hand planted on each side of Scar, boxing him in between Grian and Mumbo’s desk. Paradoxically, Scar’s grip on his neck loosened from the point of near strangulation, some of the tension ebbing from his body. This he understood. This he was ready for.

“Are you going to kill me?” Scar asked, just to have it out in the open.

“If I was going to kill you, Mr. Chronos,” Grian’s tone was smooth, like he wasn’t surprised by the question, like he had seen it coming, “you’d already be dead.”

“My first name, please.”

“Why do you think I want you dead?”

Because everyone does. Because that’s the business. “You wanted to get close.”

“And you thought it was so I could attack you?” Grian didn’t leave enough time between his sentences for Scar to provide an answer to the question. Not that Scar would have given one. “Can I not want to get close just for the sake of it?”

Too late, Scar began to realize he had miscalculated again. The situation they had entered was dangerous- more dangerous than Scar had thought- but not for the same reasons. Grian wasn’t building up to a fight.

“Grian-”

“Do you consider us enemies?” Grian took a step into his space, nearly pressing the two of them against each other. “The South and the Glass Empire are friendly, but are we?”

“Why would you think we’re enemies?”

“You know what they say.” Grian shifted his balance, lifting one hand from the desk to raise it to Scar’s neck, fingers layering over Scar’s where he was pressing down on his accidental injury. Scar made to flinch, reflexes not nearly as fast as they needed to be, but Grian didn’t start choking him, didn’t produce a short blade to bury in Scar’s throat. He matched the pressure Scar was applying, not an ounce of malice in the gesture. “Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.”

Scar’s mouth was dry. He had lost his footing, stumbling past the point of no return without even realizing, and now Grian’s face was directly in front of his, hand on his neck, and yet the snide voice that usually rang out in the back of his mind, pointing out his every weakness and blind spot, was dead silent.

For less than a microsecond, Scar’s eyes darted down, looking directly at Grian’s lips.

“Are we enemies?” Scar barely managed to ask, hushed, anticipation almost sounding like fear.

“That depends, Scar,” Grian dragged out his name, so close Scar could practically feel it, fingers curling around the back of Scar’s neck to keep him from pulling away, “how close do you keep your enemies?”

Scar’s breath caught in the back of his throat. Grian had him trapped, literally and metaphorically, no space left for Scar to try and escape into even if he felt capable of moving, but for the first time since Scar had entered the office with his neck barely bleeding, he wasn’t waiting for a hidden blade to find purchase in his flesh. The hand Grian still had on the desk was pressing into Scar’s thigh, but Scar couldn’t imagine it doing anything other than moving to his hip, another point of connection as Grian did more than just hold him still, as he moved in a little bit closer as he pulled Scar with him, as-

“Are we interrupting something?”

If it weren’t for how tightly coiled he was with tension (a very different kind of tension then had been keeping him frozen five minutes ago), Scar would have jumped a mile in the air at the sound of Mumbo’s voice. While Grian smoothly turned away from Scar to face the door, hand still damningly on Scar’s neck, Scar forced his gaze in the same direction.

Standing in the doorway were Mumbo and Bdubs, whose arrival Scar apparently had missed. They both seemed slightly out of breath, as though they had been in a hurry to reach the office, but they weren’t nearly winded enough to not also be looking at Scar and Grian like they had walked in on something extremely amusing.

“I can turn around for a minute, if you need me to.” Bdubs offered. Given the reason Mumbo had fetched him, Scar couldn’t exactly immediately dismiss Bdubs back to their offices, but the thought of doing so was tempting.

“We’re not-” Scar’s voice came out three pitches too high and more guilty sounding than a kid caught with a hand in the cookie jar. He shut his mouth immediately, stringing together some colourful curses in his head in the meanwhile. What the hell was he supposed to tell Mumbo that would explain why he was so close to his right-hand? Especially when said right-hand was still holding his neck, a choice that was starting to feel rather shameless.

Was this how Grian was going to get Scar killed? If it was, he wasn’t sure he could bring himself to be mad about it.

“You’re not interrupting anything,” Grian said, sounding as though he were discussing the weather, completely composed save for a faint dusting of pink across his cheeks that even right beside him Scar could only barely see, “I’m merely helping Mr. Chronos with his injury.”

Mumbo, who Scar presumed could pick out Grian’s exact skin tone in a crowd from a mile away, seemed to catch the flush and grinned. “How… professional of you, Mr. Penemue.”

“Yes, well.” Grian finally took his hand away from Scar’s neck, slowly at first so as not to startle Scar before speeding up, turning fully to begin striding towards Mumbo and picking up the first aid case as he went. “Mr. Centuria, I’ll leave Mr. Chronos in your capable hands. Mr. Eris and I will be outside if you need us. Take all the time you see fit.”

Bdubs took a step into the office, startled, as Grian brushed past him. Grian grabbed Mumbo’s arm, tugging him out of the doorway and pulling the door shut behind them in one fell swoop.

After staring at the suddenly shut door for a moment, Bdubs shook his head, looking back towards Scar as he began to approach him. Tucked under his arm was one of the End Crystal’s grab-and-go first aid kits.

“I was going to apologize for not arriving sooner,” Bdubs came to a stop slightly to Scar’s side, moving the kit to his hands as he unzipped it. He seemed entertained by the situation, which Scar really didn’t appreciate, “but I guess I should have arrived later instead.”

“I don’t know- I don’t know what you’d expect to be different. If you had been later.” Scar very deliberately avoided meeting Bdubs’s eyes. He hadn’t told a lie that audibly flimsy since long before he had become an organizational head.

“Would you like me to describe what I had expected?”

“Would you like to find yourself rapidly unemployed?”

Scar’s (admittedly hollow) threat fell flat if Bdubs’s following chuckle was anything to go by. “I’ll leave it to your imagination, then. Raise your chin.”

Doing his best to not let his imagination run off on its own track, Scar did as asked. He took his hand away from his neck when Bdubs prompted as well, Bdubs applying pressure to the spot with a cotton ball in lieu of Scar’s palm.

Bdubs didn't say anything further about the matter (although Scar was certain he wanted to) as he went to work cleaning and disinfecting the site of the wound. No sound from outside the office made it inside, which meant that any conversation Mumbo and Grian were or weren’t having was unavailable for Scar to eavesdrop on.

“Do you think Mumbo's going to try to kill me?” Scar asked half-seriously, more to the room itself than Bdubs. Killing over Grian's honour would be extreme, but that was hardly a deterrent for the South.

“For what? That?” Bdubs scoffed. “Would be a bit hypocritical of him.”

“Hypocritical?”

Bdubs paused in his ministrations, shifting his focus from Scar’s neck to his face with a frown. “Wait. What are you worried about?”

“As much as I would like to pretend you went briefly blind upon entering the room, I know you saw, er, that, and I know Mumbo did too. And you know how they are.” Scar shot a glance in the general direction of the South leaders. “He’s teased us for some of our banter before, but admittedly we… looked….like we were doing a bit more than that.”

Bdubs blinked once, twice. “Scar, please. I can’t do this again.”

“Do what again?”

“When you finally accepted the South’s offer of a partnership, and you came back to our office and made a joke about business partnerships with benefits,” Bdubs was speaking very slowly, as if making sure Scar understood each individual word, “that was referring to Mumbo and Grian, right?”

Any concerns Scar might have had about blood loss went out the window as his entire face flushed red hot at the speed of light.

“Right?” Bdubs repeated, sounding desperate. When Scar remained embarrassingly silent, he dropped his head into his free hand, covering his face as he groaned.

“I don’t-” Scar paused to clear his throat. It had been a very bad day for him, in terms of acting like the intimidating mob boss he usually was. “Why did you think the deal was with both of them?”

“Because I have two eyes.” Bdubs deadpanned. “I don’t know if I should be more upset over that, or the fact that it means, of the two of them, you sent the one you aren’t dating to get me.”

“You know exactly why I did that.”

“I do. Doesn’t make it any less stupid.” With a sigh, Bdubs lifted his head again, turning his attention back to Scar’s injury. “But it worked out this time. This doesn’t need stitches, and the worst thing Grian did was forget to lock the doors.”

“Bdubs.”

Unperturbed, Bdubs went on with his work, bandaging Scar's neck. “And as to your question, no, Mumbo's not going to try and kill you. He also has eyes, and if he had a problem you would have heard about it by now.”

“I don’t think I like what you’re implying.”

“You’ll like it less if I say it directly.”

“Got me there.” Scar muttered, letting the conversation lapse as Bdubs finished up. His attempts to put his thoughts in order, regarding what had nearly happened and what Bdubs had said, were sabotaged by the distracting concept of what could have been had Mumbo and Bdubs arrived five minutes later.

By the time Bdubs had taped down the edges of the bandage, the only thing Scar had really managed to figure out was that Mumbo most likely wasn't going to kill him. If he was, Scar doubted he would have granted him the courtesy of waiting until Bdubs left to strike. As to everything with Grian, well- Scar had given up trying to think any of it through.

“Good as new.” Bdubs replaced his remaining supplies in the first aid kit, zipping it shut while looking at Scar meaningfully. “I’ll head back to the shop now, assuming you don’t need anything else.”

“Actually, I think I’ll come with you.” Scar took his weight off Mumbo’s desk for the first time since he had entered the room, putting his cane back to use. His other arm ached as he stretched it out, cramped from having been bent towards his neck for so long. “I’ve had my fill of the End Crystal for the day.”

“You don’t want to stay a bit longer? Maybe talk with your business partners first?”

Scar pointedly ignored the obvious implications of Bdubs’s choice in wording. “I’m sure Mumbo and Grian have more important things to be doing right now.”

“...Alright.” The disappointment in both Bdubs’s tone and expression was so thick Scar could have kicked it. Scar chose to ignore it too.

The walk from one end of the End Crystal’s main office to the other had never felt so long, and only partially because Scar was dragging his feet for it. Heading back to his shop still required passing by Mumbo and Grian, and Scar feared it was a little too soon for them all to pretend like today had never happened.

Bdubs, who Scar suspected wanted to leave him at the End Crystal for (at minimum) a fortnight before seeing him again, didn’t seem as concerned with the incoming interaction and pushed open one of the doors without any hesitation.

Mumbo and Grian were idling near the center of the waiting area, Grian leaning against the back of a couch that was much too nice to be used so casually with Mumbo standing next to him. Both were already turned towards the office doors, likely having cut off whatever conversation they had been having when they heard the sound of the doorknob turning.

“I hope you’re feeling better, Mr. Chronos.” Grian’s voice was professional, polite, devoid of any personal emotions. His countenance was the same, carefully closed off in the way it always was, in the way Scar was used to, in the way Scar was starting to hate.

“Much.” Scar answered with an enthusiasm he didn't entirely feel. “Now, while the South's hospitality has been as refined as ever, I'd hate to put you out more than I already have.”

“Your company never puts us out any.” Mumbo, in direct contrast to Grian, made no attempt to hide his continued amusement with the situation. Scar decided to hate that as well. “You're welcome to stay longer, if you wish.”

“I don't want to impose. And I really should get back to my offices.”

“If you must.” Mumbo said reluctantly, and Scar took a small comfort in the fact that at least some of his disappointment was genuine. “Safe travels.”

Without looking away from Scar, Grian tugged on one of his sleeves, straightening out the edge of it. Scar resolutely did not think about how it likely got rumpled when Grian had been holding his neck. “The South looks forward to your next visit.”

“You make it sound so impersonal, Grian.” Scar mindlessly quipped, a mistake he fully intended to blame on being distracted by Grian’s sleeves.

Granted, Grian entertaining him with a response was probably a mistake on his own behalf, but given Grian delivered his with a single raised eyebrow and perfect composure, Scar felt as though he was faring better than Scar was. “Would you prefer I make it personal, Mr. Chronos?”

Using what scant wisdom he currently had access to, Scar opted to not try and answer the trick question and hastily pivoted back to the main point of the conversation. “Ah- until next time, gentlemen!”

Scar made his departure with as much dignity as he could- which, admittedly, was not nearly enough. Bdubs followed a step behind him, and although Scar was no longer looking at them, he was certain Mumbo and Grian’s eyes were also following him out.

For a brief moment, in the stint of time between Scar opening the door to leave through and Bdubs closing it, Mumbo and Grian’s voices slipped out.

“‘Would you prefer I make it personal’?”

“Shut up.”

Bdubs gave Scar the courtesy of waiting until they were back on their own territory to treat him to the same. “‘You make it sound so impersonal’?”

“Shut up.” Scar replied with no bite, making a beeline for his office to hide in as soon as they were inside the jewelry shop. He heard Bdubs sigh, but his right-hand didn't try to pursue him, which meant the matter was as good as settled as far as Scar was concerned.

(It wasn’t, and Scar knew that. Not when he could still feel where Grian had touched him, white hot yet leaving his skin uncharred.

Grian could kill him. Grian probably wanted to kill him, all things considered, and certainly would without hesitation if he had any reason to suspect Scar of being a threat. Mumbo wouldn’t stop him. In the event of Scar’s bloody demise at Grian’s hands, Mumbo would- at best- be mildly disappointed. No, the South was as great of a threat to the Glass Empire as it ever had been- even more so now that they were allies, now that Scar had gotten so close.

The part of his mind that Dolos’s mimicry perpetually inhabited recoiled at the thought of Scar learning nothing and letting trust pave the way to the destruction and downfall of his empire. Dolos was a traitor, but he had understood that trust was best for use as a weapon and little else.

The part still focused on the burning, in counter, played on repeat the moment where Grian had wrapped his hand around Scar’s neck and hadn’t so much as dug his nails in.)

Scar slumped into his chair and dragged a hand over his face. Without even meaning to, his hand dropped from his chin to his neck, fingers curling around the back exactly as Grian’s had.

Fuck.

#hermitcraft #goodtimeswithscar #bdubs #mumbo jumbo #grian #mumscarian #scarianbo #scarian #m.y funky words #bloody fruits au #mfw: thaw(wyinl)#boys this is NOT how u deal with trust issues #anyways. everyone shout out to bdubs the long suffering

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chuckycheezel · 1 year

Text

Currently writing a horrendous stranger things crack fic where:

Mike and El get married as each others' beards

"MIKE! YOU'RE THE GROOM!" - Will Byers, 1989

The wedding officiant gets Murray'd into acknowledging her inner demons

Lucas, Max and El are a very chill throuple

Karen is obsessed with straightening everyone's hair *cough*

Will obviously has powers and refuses to believe it

Lonnie and Ted engage in homosexual behaviour while bonding over fried chicken

Karen x hair straightener???

The three B's return from the dead (Bob, Barb, Billy)

Any suggestions? Go fucking bananas, please– I still gotta figure out what to do with Vecna and the fruity four six. I wanna throw some real strange ships in there, too. Murray x Vecna??? Billy x Meat Monster 2.0??? Karen x hair straightener OTP???

#byler #byler nation #crack fic #stranger things fic #st fanfic #st fic #milkvan #mike x will #ted x lonnie #past karen x joyce #current karen x hair straightener #eleven x max x lucas #stranger things crack #this is gonna be so bad #in the best way #im enjoying this so much

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kurottsukii · 1 year

Text

Two | 0.0.2

So far, my night took a turn for the worst. Instead of taking me out to eat like she was complaining about before-hand, my dearest best friend has dragged me into a night club that smelled like desperation, cheap perfume and sex. Not to mention the intense smell of AXE body spray that some poor bum was wearing to attract the ladies, it was definitely doing the opposite because I swear it burned the remaining of my nose hairs.

Eva didn't seem to mind since she ran and sat next to the walking girl replent to order drinks. I for one hand, refused to have my nostrils assulted again so instead I stood by the door with my hands stuffed deep into my hoodie's pockets as I just watch Eva from afar. Gotta make sure no dirt bag tried to do anything stupid.

No I'm not trying to be a cock block, I'm just worried about her you know? It only takes one look for men to want to hit that. I mean who wouldn't? She had beautiful coca butter skin, long black curls, breast bigger than mine, green rain forest eyes and a fat ass. She was the perfect girl for any dude but too bad she was a lesbian. Good for me because...I'm fruity too, well, half fruity..I'm bisexual, but still bad for them.

Eva was wearing a red dress that hugged her body perfectly and stopped above the knees, meanwhile I was still wearing what I had on back at the event, I was under the impression that we was going out for take out so I didn't change, now I wished I did as soon as I saw her slip on that dress. I knew it was too good to be true, Eva never overdressed for take out.

I looked over to see Eva making her way towards me with two glasses of what I assumed to be rum mix with tequila and cranberry juice, which was my favorite.

My smile widen as I took the glass out of her hand and went to sit down, she followed behind and sat beside me, downing her drink first.

"I'm thinking about quitting UFC and MMA.." I blurted out, I don't know why but it just spilled out my mouth, just like how Eva's drink "spilled" out her mouth as she stared at me with a confused look on her face. "You. WHAT?!"

"I'm thinking about quitting UFC and MMA to join WWE." I repeated in a hush tone, my eyes now on my glass that was still untouched. I was still unsure of my decision and rather or not if I was making the right choice. I mean this could put my name on the mat, yeah MMA and UFC are big companies but there's so much they could do. With WWE, there is no limit, the show cases are big, the numbers are big, the payment is big. I mean their whole roaster has over a million followers on Instagram while I'm sitting on six hundred thousand followers right now, I could be big.

By the time I looked up to see her reaction, it changed from confusion to dead serious. "Are you going to give up your titles and carry your five year winning streak to wwe or let someone break your streak like Ronda's."

Me? Loosing my titles that I worked YEARS for? "Bitch please, I'll be damned if I leave the company as a loser. I'ma just give up my titles and make an announcement tomorrow in the ring like a true fighter." She then, nodded at my response but I could tell that she didn't believe me, nor liked my decision.

"I already told Vince that before I signed the contract I have a few requests." She nodded again, resting her chin in her palms. "What kind of request though?"

"One, I want to do my own promos, everyone knows how good I am on the mic and the fans love it when I speak from the heart and talk shit. Two, I want to fight both the superstars and divas, because that's what I'm good at and I wanna continue it. Three, I don't want my character to change, I don't want to change. Not even if its for a big storyline, I'm a crazy, ruthless bitch and I want to stay that way. And if I have to dress like a diva, I want my attire to be similar to my aunt but a bit different. I don't think that's too much, I don't want a bigger pay or to get all the TV time. But if I'm going to be in the company I want to do it my way, all the other things...I'll be happy to follow. Oh! And the last thing is if I cut a promo with someone I wanna be surprised and it have to be brutal. Remember that one girl that talked shit about my mom being in a mental hospital? That shit was so fucked up but eh. I beat her ass and won the championship."

"Yeah I remember, the girl left with her nose to the side of her face. Honestly, all that sounds great and reasonable but who says vince will agree to that? And if he does, who says it'll stay that way? He wants you because you're the hottest thing in sports entertainment right now, I may be a dancer but I ain't stupid. He sees you as a money bag. Like your aunt, he'll just milk you dry."

As much as I wanted her to be wrong. She was right and she knew I know she's right. I saw what that man did to my family, why would I want to go into that. And not even go in blindly, its like I'm walking into a trap willingly, but what else can I do? My career is great so far, but wwe can make it better. I can be better.

As bad as I wanted to argue or just try to get her to see my point, it wouldn't matter. No matter what she says or would say, I made my decision and she knows that. So instead of talking back, I drank. I just drank and let my eyes wonder out to the dance floor full of worry free drunks. I'm not really the social or dancer type but it is always fun to be in a club. The drinks were good, the people were cute, the music is always just right. And you were always guaranteed to take someone home with you, and staying on the subject; Eva was practically eye fucking this girl across from us. Already I knew I was going to be alone for the night, so why not drink my worries away and dance till I can't anymore.

After downing a few drinks, I hit the floor. You know the feeling of having the vibrations under your feet or against your finger tips? That's what I was feeling, the dj was currently playing Crazy In Love by Beyonce and I swear if it wasn't the alcohol in my system, it was the vibrations from the beat that was making me dance.

Now I know I look like shit right now but I was dancing like I'm the baddest bitch in the club, with a couple of hair flips, and swaying of my hips, I could already feel someone pressed up against me. Their hands firmly on my hips, their movement following mine. Normally I would moved from this stranger's grip, and trust me I was about to but the music chance convinced me to stay. And as soon as No Hands started playing, I was already throwing back on whoever was behind me.

Now I have a fat ass but not Nicki fat but best believe I was doing my thing and the guy behind me would agreed because I swear I just felt his mini him against my ass.

This continued for hours, by this time Eva was already gone and I was shit faced, grinding up against a guy I didn't know but he was sure damn cute. I'm not really into blondes but he was an exception, he had the most sexiest deep blue ocean eyes, the right amount of facial hair and the kind of smile to make a girl weak to her knees which was me because everytime he flashed that pretty boy smile, I had to fight the urge to not suck on those lips.

He just felt so right at the moment, it was probably the alcohol talking but, this is the guy I'm taking home tonight.

__________

By the time I woke up, it read six thirty a.m. on my phone which was the only light source at the moment, it was surprisingly still dark, it was either that or these hotel blinds were really good at blocking out the light. Either way it was pitch black and really fucking early. I shouldn't even be awake right now, the event was in the evening and I usually wake up at 12 in the afternoon but the sudden movement beside me spooked me awake.

There beside me, was the most beautiful guy that I sadly don't even remember. Actually, I don't even remember shit from last night but it wasn't rocket science to know that we had sex. Even though I don't remember it, I really hoped it was good. I mean by how cute he was, it better have been.

What am I even saying? There is a guy in my bed that I don't remember and I'm over here worrying about if the sex was good? God what is wrong with you Yovanna? This isn't you, well, me. This isn't me, I don't even drink like that, let alone sleep with a guy I just meant. Even if he looked so damn cute while sleeping and...even if his warmth around me felt comforting, and how he feels so great right now....not to mention how good he sme-

God fuckin dammit, what is wrong with me!?

Luckily the sound of my phone vibrating broke whatever kind of spell I was in, it was a notification from twitter. Apparently I've been mentioned in a tweet. Usually I would just heart these and ignore them because usually they were fans but this time was different. It was an wwe superstar, now I wasn't aware the wrestlers there knew I was coming, I mean I barely even let told Vince my decision yet.

@RandyOrtanWWE

I wanted to be the first to greet the new comer on the behalf of wwe and the authority. @YovannaUFC welcome princess, glad to see vince add more dick sucking, wannabe divas into the business, we are really running out of those here. As much as you think you're the best in sports entertainment, think again love. You're in the vipar's territory now.

What. The. Absolute. Fuck?

#randy orton #the shield #wwe #hunter toh #hhhhh #brazil #dean ambrose #roman reigns #seth rollins #becky lynch #vince mcmahon

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jasontoddiefor · 3 years

Text

A gift for @thenegoteator :D

It took a Temple to raise a child, and Mace Windu was very much aware of this. However, it did not explain what Ahsoka Tano was doing at his door in the middle of the night. Ahsoka had deep bags under her eyes, which wasn’t too much of a surprise considering the current living arrangements of her lineage. While little Luke and Leia were relatively well-behaved newborns, they were still only a few weeks old. If their human caretakers didn’t wake up at every single little whimper, then the togruta with the superior hearing certainly would.

“Do you want to come inside?” Mace asked, not letting his confusion show. He was used to people coming to his door at the oddest hours.

“If—if I can?” Ahsoka replied as if only now becoming aware of her actions. In this, she reminded Mace of her Grandmaster and the many nights Mace had found Obi-Wan coming to his doorstep during the first months of Anakin’s stay at the Temple.

“My door is always open, Padawan,” Mace said – and watched her wince.

Ah.

So there was the problem.

“Caleb is currently sleeping in my bed as Depa is away,” Mace explained. “So please keep your voice down. I don’t want to wake him unnecessarily.”

The boy had already had a hellish enough month behind him, he needed all the rest he could get. Even though the war was officially over, enough planets refused to surrender, drawing out the battles until they had nothing but children left to sacrifice. It weighed on Mace’s shoulders, making him wonder whether he wasn’t too old to carry such burdens still.

Ahsoka nodded and followed Mace inside. He couldn’t recall whether Ahsoka had been in his room before, but from the way she eagerly looked around his quarters, taking in the sight of old instruments, books, and holos, he guessed she hadn’t. Well, at one point in their life, every Jedi had set a foot inside Mace’s quarters, so this was bound to happen sooner or later.

“Do you want a cup of tea?”

Ahsoka tore herself away from the sight and looked at him with surprise. “I—yes? That would be nice.”

“Then I will make a cup. Do you have any preferences? I believe I even have Obi-Wan’s favorite blend here.”

Mace had no idea whether he had bought it or if Obi-Wan had just left it here from himself when he came over. Knowing the other man, it was likely that the latter was the case. For a man claiming to be so very polite, Obi-Wan could be a right brat.

Mace’s kitchen was small, with only a few cabinets and one shelf, two cooking tiles, and an oven. He wasn’t much of a cook himself and preferred to eat in the cafeteria with everyone, frequently taste-tasting what the Initiates had prepared. He selected two uneven cups Depa had made for him when she’d been young from the shelf. Why she had decided to pick up pottery of all hobbies was beside him, but he supposed that she found the motion soothing. Devan did enjoy parkouring through the lower levels and Echuu was quite content playing the guitar to calm himself.

Perhaps Mace should focus less on why all three of his Padawans had decided they wouldn’t follow him into theatre so they could continue to make fun of him. Setting the water to boil, Mace searched through his cabinets until he found Obi-Wan’s favorite blend. The fruity tea was far from the blend he preferred, but Mace prided himself on being a good host. While he waited for the tea to finish steeping, Mace enjoyed the quiet of the night. For all that there were few sounds as dear to him as that of people walking, or in the case of some younglings and few selected Knights, running, down their large hallways, Mace could appreciate the quiet when the world came to rest.

With two finished cups in hand, he returned to the living room, where he found Ahsoka curled up on the sofa, no longer studying his quarters for any hidden secrets.

“Thank you,” she said when she accepted the cup from him. She held it in her hands as if to warm them, letting the steam hit her face. She breathed in once, twice, finding her rhythm again. Mace waited until she’d calmed enough to speak up.

“What brings you to my door, Padawan Tano?”

Ahsoka flinched and appeared to make herself even smaller as if attempting to vanish. When it became apparent that it didn’t work, that silence hadn’t been what she had sought him out for, she let out a sigh. “You keep calling that.”

“Calling you what?” Mace asked, his brow raised, playing oblivious.

“… Padawan.”

“Are you not? I was under the impression that you had returned to the Temple.”

“I did, but I still left,” Ahsoka replied. “I left and I was convinced that I had to leave and that it was good that I did. I still think I had to leave the Temple behind.”

“Then why are you torn?”

Ahsoka’s hold on her cup tightened and so, perhaps in wise anticipation, she set it on the table and buried her hands in her robes instead, hiding their twitching from view. Mace could trace all her mannerisms to her teachers and couldn’t imagine what it must be like to purposefully rip all those pieces from yourself when they had become so ingrained in your very being. Even Dooku, who’d fallen so far from their beliefs, had been unable to fully rid himself of Yoda’s lessons. Maybe it was for the best. Hope had become a scarce commodity during the war, yet Mace considered the possibility that in a decade, they wouldn’t be imprisoning a Sith anymore.

“But am I still a Padawan? A member of this Order?” Ahsoka asked. Her voice was barely above a whisper, and she shook like the leaves on the trees in the courtyard.

“Has your Master told you anything different?”

Ahsoka paused. “…. No.”

Seeing that realization was settling within her, Mace nodded. “Then you should not doubt him. You are a Jedi, Ahsoka Tano, and you will remain one as long as you live by our tenets.”

That teased a startled laugh from her. “Compassion for all except people who cheat at push-n-pull?”

As if transported back ten years, hearing Anakin say the same, Mace snorted. “The similarities between you and your Master astonish me every time. Yes, Padawan Tano, compassion for all.”

This seemed to calm the youth as she reached for her cup again and emptied it slowly. “It’s good.”

Mace smiled into his own cup. “I’d be insulted if it wasn’t. Obi-Wan forced me to memorize all the steps for making it.”

The then young Knight had been frazzled, and Mace honestly couldn’t tell what it had been about and had forced Mace to learn how to make this tea until he’d more or less collapsed on Mace’s sofa, completely knocked out until morning when Anakin had picked him up.

“He does do that,” Ahsoka agreed. “I think this is the only thing anyone can make reliably now.”

“Sleep-deprived much?” Mace inquired.

Ahsoka rolled her eyes. “Like you wouldn’t believe. I love Luke and Leia dearly, but they are demanding and need a lot of attention.”

That was honestly kinder than Mace would have described newborns at her age.

“There is a reason why we usually don’t have children this young in the Temple,” Mace said. “They are very handful. Do you get enlisted to help very often?”

Ahsoka shook her head. “No, Obi-Wan, Skyguy, and Padmé got it covered, and I’m mostly just helping out somewhere else.”

She trailed off a little. This, perhaps, was another issue, but one that could be equally easily dealt with.

“Thank you then for going where you are needed,” Mace told her.

Ahsoka blinked. “Huh?”

“You will grow into a specific role someday, Ahsoka, and that needs time. Do not feel as if you need to earn back your place in the Temple. You don’t need to earn yourself a home you have always had. For now, trust me when I say that everyone you’ve helped is glad that you were there. It is an admirable quality to have a sense of where you are needed. Do not see it as being the odd one out.”

This was the hardest lesson to teach and learn, the fact that there was a path out there for you, but that it took time to see where it would lead. Too many of their Padawans now felt utterly lost without the structure the war had provided them with.

“Oh. I guess if you say so.”

“Yes, I do say so,” Mace agreed. Then, eyeing Ahsoka’s empty cup, he added on, “do you want another?”

“No.” Ahsoka yawned. “I think I might best head back.”

“You can also sleep here if you want, and don’t mind Caleb hogging the blanket. I won’t go to bed tonight anyway.”

Ahsoka squinted at him as if attempting to discern whether he was lying. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Really—”

“Ahsoka, go to bed.”

Clearly feeling better already, she saluted and, after Mace showed her his bedroom, made herself comfortable in it. She took off her shoes and tossed her robe over a chair before climbing into the bed. Ahsoka had barely laid down when Caleb already turned around to curl around her, clinging like a little monkey. After a moment’s apprehension, she relaxed and was fast asleep. Stealing one last glance at the two Padawan, Mace returned to his living room, looking through the incoming reports.

Hectic as the aftermath of the war was, as much effort as caring for their children was, Mace wouldn’t trade it for a single thing in the world.

#star wars #mace windu #ahsoka tano #jedi #light fix it verse #fanfic

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missmonsters2 · 3 years

Note

I would like to request part three of “what’s one kiss between friends” It’s one of my favourite AU’s.

iii. What's One Little Kiss Between Friends

youtube

iii: party of our own

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Note: I'm so glad it's your fav AU bc me too. Listening to the song is essential to this drabble.

College AU set. Feel free to request the next part in my inbox!

I've decided I'm into this drabble series and it'll be dubbed What's One Little Kiss Between Friends Wednesday 💘

part i || part ii

Count: <1k (literally 999)

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"Hey, beautiful, you alone tonight?"

Natasha barely looked at the guy before she replied with a curt, "No."

"Right…" he answered before he awkwardly slinked away.

The interaction didn't bother Natasha in the slightest. People could tell she wasn't in the mood tonight. She stood in the back, leaning against the wall with a red solo cup in hand with some kind of fruity drink she didn't enjoy.

She looked over in the distance to where Bucky was and grimaced at how he was sucking face with his ex, Dotty. Watching her ex with his own ex wasn't exactly putting her in a good mood.

What was even worse was that her eyes kept drifting back to you.

It seemed tonight was just a night of reuniting with exes.

Natasha watched as you stood there talking with Maria and grimaced behind her cup. Why were you bothering with Maria? Wasn't the first-year disaster with her a testament to how it would never work with her?

In fact, Natasha thought curtly, why was Maria at this party? She didn't even go here anymore. She needed to stick to her own school's frat parties!

Natasha watched as you tilted your head back with a laugh at something Maria said and felt something unpleasant bubble in her stomach. Letting out a sigh, Natasha turned her gaze away again.

"Hey."

Natasha snapped her head back. You were standing in front of her, eyes slightly hazy and hair mussed. You were holding a red solo cup that you put into her hands as you took hers away.

"What are you—"

"You don't like fruity drinks, right? Brought you tequila. Would've gotten you vodka but they've only got the shit that's in a plastic bottle and that's just not right."

Natasha can't help but snort, the tips of her ears flushing as she takes a swig.

"So, what's got you moping in the back all alone here? It's very rare of you to be a wallflower. Finally sick of the frat parties?" You smirked at her.

Natasha merely scoffed before sucking in her bottom lip lightly to bite down on when she could see your teasing expression.

"Maybe," was all Natasha could tragically offer.

Then, you're grabbing her hand, and Natasha feels something flutter, and it's arguable worse than having her ears flush.

"Good, I'm over it tonight too," you said as you pulled her through the crowd, not paying mind to the people who'd greet Natasha. "Watching Steve step on Sharon's toes and her being so into it is too horrid to watch any longer." You slightly turned back to give Natasha a grin as you down the rest of her fruity drink.

Natasha found herself chuckling as you grabbed the tequila bottle off the table along with the grapefruit soda.

You led her up the stairs, trying to not trip over the groups of people sitting and chatting—or making out. The first door you opened turned out to have a random couple enthusiastically going at it.

"Oh—" Natasha started to say and tried her best to refrain from laughing when you shushed with a smile before quietly shutting the door.

It feels like an adventure trying to find an empty room in this frat house until you finally give up and open the hallway closet filled with random cleaning supplies and half-folded towels.

You pulled Natasha inside along with you, shutting the door behind her as the two of you slink down to the floor. You turn on your phone flashlight and dim it to the lowest setting.

It was hardly enough to see anything in full detail, but the two of you liked it like this—soft with a reason to be closer.

You had noticed Natasha staring at you throughout the party. It had elated you to have her attention. Then you noticed how Bucky had been just a couple of feet behind you, and you couldn't help but feel your stomach crumble.

But none of that mattered when it was just the two of them, and you didn't want to spend the time humming and hawing who Natasha was staring at when she was looking at you now.

So, you let the alcohol flow through you. You allowed the alcohol to remove any filter from your brain and talked about everything that came to mind.

The two of you talked about the people at the party, about the after-class activities that you both sorely wished you could drop if it wouldn't look so good on your resumes. You talked about how fast time seemed to fly, and you'd both be graduating this year, and despite that, it feels like neither of you really know what you're doing.

You talk and talk until it feels like you both are breathless, warm on tequila, and music pounding from outside the door.

And then the last two kisses you've shared jump into your mind. You stared at Natasha with her flushed cheeks and lazy smile, and you suddenly believed that being drunk was amazing.

Being drunk brought divinations! Like how you don't want chaste kisses anymore. You want to kiss the fuck out of her. You want to follow Bucky's suit and make out like your life depended on it.

You leaned across the space, nose bumping against Natasha's. She smelled like vanilla and tequila, and you loved it.

"Hey."

"Hey," Natasha breathed before she swallowed.

You hovered because there wasn't really any reason to kiss. There was no point to prove and no comfort needed, and you refused to merely chalk it up to being drunk.

"How much have you had to drink?" Natasha asked her breath on your lips.

"Enough to be brave and admit I want it but sober enough that I can tell you I won't change my mind tomorrow," you replied.

"Perfect," Natasha muttered before she surged forward to catch your lips assiduously, gripping the back of your neck.

And just like that, chaste kisses were out the window.

Part 4

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff fanfiction #black widow x reader #black widow imagine #avengers x reader #modern avengers au #mm: answered #femalehomosexual666 #mm.drabble.nat

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aziraphales-library · 3 years

Note

hello! i’m looking for any canon-compliant fics where we see more into aziraphale and crowley’s relationship throughout the years much like in episode three of Good Omens but the missing scenes.

Hello!

Here's a few for you:

Līgfāmblāwende [G] by Lurlur, robynthemagpie_writes, WyvernQuill

What is a dragon if not just a really big snake?

We present the true story of how St George vanquished the Dragon.

some chocolate to sweeten the deal [G] by Enelica, sevdrag (seventhe)

“Heathens.” Crowley snorts. “Did you know they’ve already discovered four of the planets? Lot of work went into those, let me tell you, and these clever bastards have spotted four of them already. Britannia should weep.”

Aziraphale’s smile softens in pleasure. The angel’s too soft over humanity, and unfortunately, it’s one of the things Crowley likes best about him. “Did you know they’re only eight hundred and ninety years off calculating when the earth began?” The angel glances away, and Crowley has to cover a sharp breath at Aziraphale’s profile, pale and happy. “That’s the closest anyone’s gotten, I believe.”

Like a Box of Chocolates [T] by animeangelriku

“Oh!” Aziraphale moves towards him and stares warily at the box, like he doesn’t know what to make of it. “Crowley, did you… Is this for me?”

“Who else?” The demon decides to ignore the awe in the angel’s voice. It’s not the first time he’s given Aziraphale what might be called a present, and he refuses to look any more into it. It’s never gotten him anywhere good. “Unless there’s another ethereal being opening another bookshop in Soho.”

“Not as far as I’m aware.” Aziraphale’s smile softens, and when he tentatively reaches for the box, Crowley all but surrenders it. “I assume this is a housewarming gift, then?”

“’f you like,” Crowley mutters with a deliberately casual shrug, which kind of defeats the purpose.

everything strange washes up near Miami [T] by MovesLikeBucky

“Crowley, what are you doing here?”

“Investigating,” Crowley said as the bartender returned with their drinks, frozen concoctions of a completely unnatural blue color garnished with pineapples and cherries. “Been a surge of unaccounted for demonic activity in the area, Beelzebub sent me to investigate.”

“Ah, me as well,” Aziraphale said as he sipped the fruity drink, relishing the cold of it, “Gabriel sent me. Whatever it is seems to be interfering with my connection, I can’t perform miracles.”

“Well that makes it interesting, looks like we might be dealing with a third party.”

“Oh dear, I hate those.”

“Still, could do it together? S’ been a while, angel.”

Aziraphale arched an eyebrow at that. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to work with Crowley — he did, more than anything. But seeing Crowley here, seeing him with an easy smile fitting in like he belonged, happiness alighting behind those pink and purple lenses… brought back memories. It wasn’t all that long ago he’d told Crowley he went too fast.

Aziraphale and Crowley meet up in 1980s Miami. Surely this will go smoothly.

There's also a The Days of Their Lives zine fic Collection and I believe there's still a few days left to buy the zine if anyone's interested!

~Mod N

#canon #through the ages #cold open #missing scenes #t rated #g rated

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spideyobsessed · 3 years

Text

Before It’s Too Late - Prologue

peter parker x avenger!reader

Synopsis: With all the life changing events taking place, will you ever get to overcome some of your biggest fears?

Chapter one

“Come on, Y/n! Do it for me!” your best friend pleaded.

“I told you not at school! It’s not my fault you went out drinking on a Tuesday.” you scolded Gwen, who is being dramatic as always.

“Please! I’ll give you 5 dollars.” She clasps her hands together and pleads some more as she shoots you a sheepish smile. You let out a sigh and shake your head, knowing you’d give in to her eventually. “How about you just hand over your jello?” You bargain, doubting she even has money with her.

“Deal!” She cheers loudly before groaning and holding her head.

Ignoring your whiny friend, you scope out your area of the cafeteria. Once you were certain there were no eyes on you, you turn back to Gwen, “This is the last time I’m doing this at school.”

“Yeah yeah, just hurry!” She rushes.

You take a deep breath and focus all of your energy towards your hands. You place your fingertips on either side of Gwen’s head, a purple aura radiating from them. As the energy transfers from your fingers to her temples, you watch a wave of relief mask her face.

“Better?” You ask her, the purple already gone from your fingers. “So much better. Bless you, almighty Y/n!” Gwen bows her head and graciously hands you her jello cup. You let out a loud laugh before accepting the treat, “You are ever so welcome, peasant.” She shoves you slightly before joining you in laughter.

“I saw that, ya know?” A third voice suddenly appears.

Your eyes widen when you see who the voice belongs to. Michelle Jones. This girl notices everything and now she’s just seen you use your abilities. So dumb. So careless. How could I let her catch-

“See what, Mj?” Gwen interrupts your panicked train of thought.

The odd girl invites herself to sit at your table. She squints her eyes while looking back and forth between you and Gwen. “I saw how close you guys were just a minute ago. It just seemed like something is going on.” She speaks with subtle confidence, as if she just cracked a big case.

“What? Uh no. Nope. Nothing going on here, that’s crazy talk.” You chuckle nervously. The blonde girl besides you gives you a disappointed look, “Nice save.” You gulp hard and your palms being to sweat.

The secret is out. I’m done for. I’m going to live the rest of my life as a lab rat being poked and prodded every single day-

“I don’t know. Things just seemed kinda... fruity over here.” Your thoughts interrupted once more, this time by Mj and her idiotic comment. She and Gwen begin to laugh as you bury your face in your hands, your nerves settle, thankfully.

“Very funny, very funny.” Gwen manages to say through her laughing fit, “but we all know who Y/n really wants to swap spit with.” she points a finger.

You turn your head, and almost as if it was second nature, your eyes land on the guy you’ve been crushing on since 8th grade year.

Peter Parker.

You feel the heat spreading across your face and you’re sure your pupils are dilated out of this world, but none of it is enough to tear away your gaze. Gwen let’s out a high pitched “Aahh” as she attempts to replicate that of a beautiful church chorus (and does quite the opposite). You’ve learned to tune out your best friend’s theatrical tendencies.

The smallest smile creeps onto your lips as you watch him and his best friend, Ned, laugh and toss grapes into each other’s mouths. Gwen and Mj share a knowing glance before continuing their antics.

Look at him! The way he grabs his stomach when he laughs, the way his eyes crinkle in the corner when he smiles too wide, the way his curls droop over his forehead. He’s perfect... Oh no.

You whip your direction back to the girls next to you, “Is it that obvious? Does everyone really know I like him?” Your nerves return. “You only make it like super obvious, dude.” Mj snorts, stealing a fry from your tray. You sigh and start to pick at your rightfully earned jello.

“Too bad he doesn’t even know I exist.” You grumble, fully and shamelessly basking in your own self pity. “I can fix that,” Mj smirks, “Hey losers! Get over here!” She shouts from across the lunchroom.

She instantly captures the attention of Peter and Ned, who are obviously use to her ever so friendly nicknames, and everyone else in the cafeteria. You make brief eye contact with the curly haired boy and fight the urge to just melt in your seat.

Sweat starts to bead from your forehead as you turn to Mj and whisper harsh words of protests. “Just go with it, Y/n.” Gwen attempts to reassure you. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. Please please please don’t embarrass yourself, you thought as they approach your table.

“Yes, Mj?” Ned questions her with his eyes squinted. You can tell they’re both worried about what might come out of her mouth. Quite frankly, you are too! Mj has no filter and is too unpredictable.

You try to avoid making eye contact with Peter, which is really hard to do considering he’s standing right next to you. You smell the strong scent of cologne and suddenly your throat is drier than the Sahara Desert. You sit in silence as you fiddle with your fingers.

“You guys know Gwen and Y/n, right?” Mj speaks in her monotone voice as she points a thumb over to you and Gwen.

This brings out a loud chuckle from Ned, “Uh duh! Of course we know Gwen Stacy and Y/n Y/l/n.” You can’t help but tilt your head over to Gwen, who is just as confused as you, but seems to be entertained by the event unfolding before your eyes.

“What Ned means is, uh.. y-yes. We’ve seen you guys around. And totally not in a creepy way or anything. We’re not stalkers. I just mean I’ve seen you pass by my locker. Not that I was looking for you or anything. I-It’s just that- well...um. I’m gonna.. stop there.” Peter finally chimes in with a painfully awkward laugh, but you swear it’s music to your ears.

Mj clears her throat, “Anyway, it’s your lucky day, nerds. Liz is having a party this Friday and these ladies don’t have dates, so you’re gonna take them. Ned with Gwen and Peter with Y/n.”

While Mj sits back and watches in amusement as Peter and Ned take turns stuttering words of confusion and hesitation, you lean over to Gwen, “Are we just going to let her set us up with them?” “Shh. It’s getting good.” Gwen shushes you.

“Well what about you, Mj? Won’t you be like.. the fifth wheel?” Ned asks a pretty valid question.

“As a young woman, I will be attending the party alone because I refuse to contribute to today’s patriarchal society norms.” Mj answers the question, sounding even more serious than you thought was possible.

The four of you are left speechless, none of you really knowing how to respond to that subtly backhanded statement. Mj continues, “They’ll be ready by 8:00 though. So don’t be late.”

“Demanding much? What if we had plans on Friday?” Peter scoffs while crossing his arms over his chest.

“You two have plans on a Friday night that don’t include a lego death star?” Mj mirrors his actions, calling his bluff.

Peter trades a defeated look with Ned and drops his arms. “No.” he sighs. “Good! So like I said, 8 o’clock. You’re dismissed.” Mj asserts before waving them off.

You get a sudden jolt of confidence and shoot Peter a small smile. He gives you one in return as he walks away with Ned.

“Really?!” You slap your hand on the table as soon as you were sure the two boys were out of earshot. “I believe the words you’re looking for are “Thank you, Mj. You’re the best!” but whatever.” The sarcastic girl smiles, obviously satisfied with her ‘leadership skills’, as she likes to call it.

You could just burst with embarrassment, “Oh, I have a few words I want to say, alright.” However, the bell rings before you get the chance.

- - - - -

The final bell of the day had finally rung and you walk to your locker in a slump. You spent the last three hours replaying the impromptu game of matchmaker at lunch over and over again in your head.

I can’t believe Mj pulled that stunt, you thought, but why was he so against it? He probably doesn’t want to go with me.

You absentmindedly put away your books and shut your locker. As you begin to walk towards the exit, you don’t even realize that the boy you’re constantly thinking of was right next to you.

Peter jogs a bit to catch up with you. “Uh h-hey, Y/n.” he says timidly, his voice making you stop dead in your tracks.

Your eyes widen and your legs now feel weak once you realize it’s really him. “Peter, hi!” you practically yell. Don’t seem too excited! You cringe at your eagerness before giving him a more calming, “Hi.”

The two of you chuckle at how awkward you both are. After a few seconds of silence and avoided eye contact, Peter is the first to start a conversation. “So lunch was pretty...” “Interesting?” you finish his sentence. “You read my mind.” He breathes as he looks down at his shoes.

You take this as your chance to apologize for your very bold acquaintance friend’s behavior. “I’m really really sorry about Mj. I had no idea she was going to do any of that. You and Ned don’t have to take us, if you guys don’t want to.” You manage to push out in one breath.

“No, it’s okay! I know how Mj is.” He reassures you with the sweetest smile possible. “I actually came to ask you what you’re wearing on Friday. I wouldn’t want to be underdressed.”

Heat immediately rushes to your face. This is not a drill! Okay, okay. Just breathe. Be cool. “Uhm I really haven’t given it much thought yet.” You tried your best to keep your composure despite the happiness coursing through your body.

“Oh, that’s totally cool!” Peter hesitates for a moment before saying, “Maybe we could, ya know, trade numbers and you can let me know later.”

You nod your head, maybe one too many times. “Yes, I think that’s a great idea.” You tell him, unable to hide the big smile plastered across your face.

The two of you chuckle once again at the awkward, yet somehow endearing, tension as you switch phones.

I can’t believe this is happening.

You can’t help but take notice of almost every little detail.

Peter’s phone has a screen protector, but still has a good sized crack on the top left corner.

There’s several unread messages, emails, and missed calls.

His home screen is a picture of probably the most beautiful sunset you could get in Queens. And oddly enough, the picture looks like it was taken from the very top of one of the skyscrapers.

I wonder how he got this picture.

After taking in as much as you could, you finally put in the 10 digits of your number. You simply put your name in as “Y/n” and locked the phone, handing it back to Peter, who was taking his sweet time.

Once you got back your phone, you see that he did not keep it as simple as you did. He put his contact name as “Peter :)))” and somehow managed to take and upload a contact photo as well. You smile widely at the sight on your screen.

“Awesome! So I’ll... text you later?” You say more as a question, but Peter doesn’t seem to notice this. “Yes, later! Sounds great.” He smiles as he walks backwards in the opposite direction from you.

“Y-yeah, uh, later!” You say as you copy his actions and also begin to walk backwards. “Later.” Peter gives you that smile that you love so much. You quickly turn around before he could see you blush anymore than he already has. Anyone with decent eyesight can see that you ended the day happier than you started it.

Okay, okay. Thanks, Mj.

- - - - -

“Oh what’s that, Peter? You want my number?” You say out loud, reenacting your conversation with Peter just minutes ago. The stares of strangers walking by you go unnoticed because you’re in your own little world, thinking about the boy of your dreams asking for your number!

“I mean sure, but I can’t promise I’ll get to you right away. There’s just SO many people blowing up my phone.” You say with a sigh as you dramatically place the back of your hand to your forehead. Wow, I’ve been hanging around Gwen too much.

You laugh to yourself, and continue your routine trek home until you hear a faint cry. To your right is a little girl, no older than seven years old, sitting on the stoop of these apartment buildings. You take a quick glance around, checking for any adults she might belong to. When you see no one around, you decide to check on her. With caution, you stroll over to where she’s sitting, and it was in this moment that you realize she’s cradling a small kitten.

You crouch down to her level, “Hey, sweetie. What’s wrong?”

The young girl looks up at you with her big, tearful eyes and then back down at the kitten. You let her sniffle a few times and muster up the courage to speak. “It’s my kitty.” her voice cracks, “He’s really sick, but my mom said we can’t go to the vet.”

You look down at the poor cat. His fur is matted, his breathing is labored, and he looks as if he hasn’t been eating. You can’t help but pity the both of them.

She can barely finish her sentence before breaking down again. Instinct kicking in, you start to rub small circles on her back in order to comfort her, “Don’t cry, don’t cry. I can help him!” The child instantly perks up.

“How are you gonna do that?” She questions skeptically while simultaneously placing the small creature in your hands.

You flash a smug smile before wiggling your fingers in front of her face. “With magic.” You whisper. The little girl’s eyes sparkle as she gazes upon the purple aura beaming from your hand.

You had no problem showing off your abilities to children. With their hyperactive imaginations and short attention spans, they don’t pose a threat when it comes to exposing your secret.

Finally turning your attention to the sickly kitten once more, you press your index and middle finger to its stomach. Just as it did with Gwen earlier today, the purple energy moves from your fingers and onto the kitten. It only takes a few seconds for the cat to spring out of your hands and back to its tiny owner, moving with full strength and purring happily.

The little girl gasps in pure amazement as she picks up her cat and squeezes it to her chest. “Thank you so much! I love magic now!” She squeals, a hint of sparkle still in her eyes.

You let out a lighthearted laugh and ruffle her already messy hair a little bit. “Sure thing, hun. You take good care of him!”

“I will, I will!” She smiles brightly before rising to her feet. “Mommy, mommy! Spiderman feels better now!”

and with that, the little girl disappears through the door.

Did she really name that cat Spiderman?

You roll your eyes and shake your head before carrying on.

- - - - -

“Alice, I’m home- woah. What the hell is this?” You spit in shock at the sight in front of you.

Your Aunt Alice walks up to you and gently pulls you through the doorway. She lets out a loud over exaggerated laugh, “Y/n, we have a guest! Don’t be rude when we have a billionaire in our house.” She whispers the last part to you.

“Uh- right! My apologies. I’m Y/n Y/l/n.” You walk up to the clean cut man with an outstretched hand.

He whips his sunglasses off of his face and you immediately feel ten times more intimidated and a hundred times more confused. He pushes himself off of your couch and steps in front of you.

The man placed his firm hand in yours and gives you a subtle shake, “I know who you are, kid. I’m Tony Stark.”

/ / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / /

The next part!

Okay guys that’s the end of the introduction chapter!! I hope you guys like it! I’m sorry it’s everywhere right now, but it’ll start making more sense as it goes on, like most stories do.

I’m open for some feedback!! Let me know if the chapter was too long or too short. Maybe it could use more dialogue or less dialogue. Whatever you have in mind, just please be nice!! I haven’t written a story like this since I was like 15 so I might be a little rusty. If you’re still here, thank you for reading this far!!

edit: Sorry for any typos!!

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x avenger!reader #peter parker imagine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #peter parker x stark!reader #steve rogers #spiderman #spiderman: far from home #spiderman: homecoming #tom holland x reader #tom holland #sebastian stan #avengers x reader

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laketaj24 · 3 years

Text

Serotonin III

A/N: Hey! Here’s the final part!!! I hope you enjoy it! I am working on three requests for Mr. Baker and Part 2 to The Business! My taglists and requests are open! Let me know what you think! Happy Reading!

Pairing: Colson Baker X Reader

Warnings: Language, Nudity, Lowkey Pettiness, Smut, orgasm denial

Inspo Song: Acting Like That : Yungblud ft. MGK, Travis Barker

Serotonin Masterlist, MY MASTERLIST

Meg: I can’t believe you left me at the club! I was joking with your petty ass!

Colson: you said if I wanted her, go get her. I did

Meg: so you really are choosing her over me?

Meg: hello?

Meg: I know god damn well you getting my texts, you asshole

Meg: Colson.

Colson: who is this?

Meg: real funny

Colson: what you want?

Meg: Are you still coming tonight?

The hours passed since he left seemed like seconds; maybe you’d fucked up. Overreacted by busting his phone up and making him go.

Shit.

The fact that he left his phone left meant Colson knew you’d fucked it up this time. You tossed the phone on the couch and stared up at the ceiling, and to make matters worst, you couldn’t even text and say come back because you had the phone. You’d fucked up.

Guilt played a weird role in your relationship, making Colson feel guilt, easy as pie. He did shit all the time, and even when he didn’t, his little ass found reasons for him to still feel some guilt. Guilt rarely rested on your shoulders, but here tonight, it rested heavily on your shoulders. You stare down at the text messages, there were several avenues you could take to resolve the issue. The first was just say you were sorry; apologies meant a lot. But a text wouldn’t do; for starters, it wouldn’t do because you had his phone. He wouldn’t see it. Secondly, Colson would eat the texted apology and spit it out in your face if you did that to him. Your arguments had been more than toxic in the past, and you may or may not have told him text apologies were trash. The only actual resolution was to drive over to the house and do it face to face. Unfortunately, that would not be an easy feat either.

You dressed quickly, taking one of his out of the box outside your bedroom. You slide on his purple EST sweatsuit. His aroma still lingered even though it’d been washed. The musky scent of his earthy Cologne intertwined with his weed because the man smoked enough for his whole team. It was a scent you’d grown accustomed to, felt like home, even sliding back into his clothes.

The drive over usual took forty minutes, traffic and all, but today it lasted ten, or it felt like ten, and no matter how many times you rehearsed your apology, it still tasted like dirt when you said it.

“Colson, I overreacted.” You braced a smile in your rearview mirror and then leaned into the steering wheel. “Colson, you’re gonna forgive me because you’re a fucking cheater.” You growled and slammed your fist into the passenger’s seat. “Colson- I am sorry I broke your phone. I will go with you to buy another one.” You laughed and reached for the vape filled with the THC vape. It’d be best to be high talking to him. The vape hits smooth, the fruity flavor hitting your tongue before your lungs, and then a plume of smoke fills the car as you exhale. Fuck.

The knock on your window scares you, but only a little as Slim waves. He points down, signaling you to roll the window down. You do, and the plume leaves with the small gust of wind the fresh air brings. “What are you doing out here Y/N? It’s three in the morning?”

“Shit.” You glance at the fluorescent blue digits on the clock. “Damnit.”

“Yeah, you good?” Slim smirks knowing the answer.

“Yes, I’m fine.”

“I can go get him.”

“No,” you said quickly. “I’ll come in a few.”

“bet, I’m gonna lock this gate.” He laughed as he walked away.

He faded from your view, and you slinked down in your seat, regathering what you were planning once more. Ten minutes passed, and you hit the vape four more times, feeling your body relax and the tension dissipates. It was time; either he forgave you, or you would just sleep in the car until he did. Every light in the house was on, upstairs and down; they never slept at night. They just slept until the next afternoon and started the party all over again. It's the one reason you refused to live with him; your sleep schedule would be fucked.

You stand at the grand doors and knock a few times, hoping they hear you over the loud ass music that played in the room over. It stopped abruptly after a few seconds, and you could hear his long strides headed to the door.

“If you don’t have food, go back home.” Colson’s playful voice came from the other side.

“I-,” You chuckled. “I don’t have food; everything was closed.”

“When I apologized to you, I had fucking food. Go get food and come back. The pizza place on Simmons is open until five.”

“Colson, please.”

“You can call Door Dash or whoever, but the entry fee is food.” The music started back, Dopeman – lyrics raged from the door, and your mouth dropped.

This fucking asshole had audacity and some fucking nerve, You banged against the door, but this time the music did not stop. He was being serious, a food fucking entry fee. Fuck him! Ten minutes passed, and he did not budge. The music continued, and you swore you could hear actual drums being played inside.

Fine. He wanted food; you’d bring him food. It was hard to strip in the back of a car, but you did. You stripped out of your clothes and grabbed the one pair of heels that never left your car. You called them fuck me heels, but it wasn’t because you were trying to get fucked. They were six inches and incredibly hard to walk in; you hated them. The most said was usually FUCK ME, when you wore them. If Colson wanted to be an ass, you’d level the playing field. You liked putting on a show too. You laid on your horn for a minute, knowing it would get his attention, clicked the headlights to your car, and stepped out into the crisp air of the night. He didn’t have too many neighbors but now was their opportunity if they wanted to see you naked. You stood bare ass in front of your car awaiting the jealous Colson. You knew well to show his face, and like clockwork, he arrived.

“What the fuck are you doing!” He yelled, charging from the house. “Y/N.”

“You said to bring food. Well, come eat.”

“You’re not fucking cute.” Colson snapped as he slid out of his jacket. He quickly wrapped your body in the black leather jacket and tossed you over his shoulder. “Fucking spoiled ass. You could have just went and got the motherfucking pizza.”

“It’s late.”

“I know what time it is,” He hissed. Colson entered the house, eyeing his friends. “Don’t even look at her.” He warned as he carried you up the steps; his hand came down on your ass with each step until you two finally reached his bedroom. Colson tossed you onto the plush black comforter and stood in front of you, “Why are you here?”

“You left your phone.” The line seemed innocent enough, but there was little innocence behind it.

“You broke it.” His confused look makes you laugh; cupping your mouth, he smacks. “Don’t come over here tryna laugh at you throwing shit at me Y/N.”

“I thought-.”

“I know what you thought.” He pointed at you, “So don’t try to sugarcoat it. You thought I was dicking you down and then going back to her. Then you read them messages and realized you were a whole asshole.” He stated matter of fact.

“So, you’re not gonna let me talk.”

“Did you let me talk before you tossed me out? Why are you here anyway? It’s four in the morning. ”

“I couldn’t sleep.” You attempted to kick off the heels, and he grabbed your foot, stopping you from sliding it off.

“That guilty conscience is heavy, huh??” He cracked a smile and shook his head. “Leave them on.”

“You won.” You whispered. “I fucked up,” the omission tumbled from your lips unwillingly.

“Was that an apology?” Colson teased.

“I’m not saying it again.”

“Oh, you gone say that and more.” He laughed. “Sorry, ass apology.”

“Col-,” You giggled, “I’m tired. Can I apologize tomorrow, please?”

He kneeled in front of you, rubbing his hands up your legs, his touch ignited something in you, even if you were sleepy. “Oh and the next day too, shit, I’m never gonna let you live this shit down. So you can apologize all the fuck you want, but you’re not going to sleep right now. I haven’t had you in my bed in months. I wanna fuck you to sleep.”

“ I’m halfway there.” You smiled lazily at him, raking your fingers through his hair. “We have all tomorrow for make-up sex.”

“You the only person that’s doing the making up.” He reminded playfully.

“So you’ve said.”

Sleep found you minutes after you snuggled into his lean frame; you missed sleeping glued to Colson no matter how hot he felt. He nestled into you as well, pulling you against his chest, tracing his long fingers down the line of your back, humming tunes to an unwritten song when he thought you were sleeping. He didn’t sleep much tonight didn’t prove any different as the hues magenta cut across the once dark sky outside the window.

“Morning came fast.” You mumbled.

“It’s been three hours.” He whispered. “Shit, You still tired I can see it in you. You don’t have to get up.” He pulled the cover over your body and sighed. “I gotta be somewhere at eleven.” Colson groaned. “I’m gone cancel that shit.”

“No, do what you said you were going to do. Get some sleep.” You climbed out of bed, pulling drapes closed and bringing darkness back into the room. “It’s no point in missing money.” You said his words back to him.

“Yeah, whatever.” He watched you, his tongue between his teeth. “I really thought you were not coming over here tonight. I was tryna find ways to apologize to you for shit I didn’t do. It’s already fucked up when I have to apologize for this shit I did do.” Colson adjusted his pillow and waited for you to return to the bed.

“I know I fucked up, damn.” The walk of shame was generally when you’d fucked a one-night stand, but right now, it was walking back to the bed to face him. “I get really pissy when it comes to you. Like—I wanna fight.” You cut a smile and sunk back into the bed, this time angling yourself to face him.

“Why fight me? I didn’t send the text?” He pulled you towards him and rolled himself on you. The weight was comfortable and one you’d craved. “Huh?” Colson exhaled before he leaned down and took your nipple in his mouth. He held the small nub between his two teeth, tugging a little before he began to suck.

“You’re gonna be tired.”

“Man fuck that interview.” He whispered before diverting his attention to the other nipple and repeating the same actions. You were already wet for him; one look could get you ready. Eager for him, you wrapped your legs around his waist, grinding your pussy against his boxers. He could make the foreplay lasts as long as the sex, and you both had things to do later. There was no time for the slow sex; you damn near wanted to be punished – but he wasn’t in that mode.

Colson pushed his boxers down and lifted your waist from the bed, putting you in the perfect angle to take him but instead of slamming into you as you desired, he teased. He stroked the length of his cock down the line of your pussy, soaking himself in you before finding his way to your entrance and stopping.

“Stop playing.”

“I want that apology.” Colson smiled, looking down at you.

Your pussy jumped with anticipation. “I’m sorry.”

“Fake ass apology,” He pushed an inch into you and then pulled out. “Make it real.” He whispered.

You groaned, frustrated, slapping his chest in a tantrum. “I said I was fucking sorry.”

“Mean ass apology--,” he shook his head. “That’s how you wanna play, let’s fucking play.” Colson slammed into you, and your mouth opened in pleasure. His pace was intense, knocking the breath out of you with each stroke, but you didn’t want to breathe; you wanted to cum all over him. “Say that shit as you mean it.”

“I said-,” You scratched down his back halfway, and he pins your hands above your head, thrusting into your harder and faster. “Oh,” Tremors take over, rocketing through your body. “Yes,” You buckled against him. “Yes.”

“Yeah, keep saying yes.” He pulled out of you, slapping three fingers to your clit. “I bet you won’t cum.”

Your eyes snapped open. “I’m sorry.”

Another slap to your clit, and the pleasure had faded just a small tinge of pain, and he started to fuck you once more, long strokes, hitting your g-spot each time. “I don’t believe that shit; this pussy is just greedy. You wanna cum, you ain’t sorry.” He whispered.

“I am sorry.” You whined as your body climbed back up to the precipice of a release. “Baby, I’m so sorry.” Your swollen clit throbbed, one stroke away from cumming, and he stopped slapping your clit again, bringing pain that made you cry out. “I am sorry.” You cried. “I should not have thrown your phone.” You mewled. “I should have talked to you.” You pleaded. “Believed all that shit you said.”

“Why?”

“I don't know, let me cum.” You pulled at the one hand that had secured both of your wrists. “Please, daddy.” The lustful tone made him smile.

“You can call me daddy all the fuck you want… you ain’t getting what you want yet.” You rolled your hips, coaxing the movement from him, and he shook his head. “Stop being a fucking brat.” He warned. “Just tell me why you’re sorry.”

“Because I want to be with you.” You admitted. “I love you.”

He grinned. “You better mean that shit too.” Colson started back fucking you slow, releasing your hands but making sure he was in control. You flooded with relief feeling him give in to you, gripping your hips to meet his thrusts, all while burying his face in your neck to nip his favorite spots on your body. This is what you had wanted all along, to be with the man who’d somehow drove you insane but simultaneously become an innate piece of your life that brought you a balance you didn’t know you needed. He was, in a way, as your serotonin.

A/N: I know I described my Meg in this fic, but just a lil disclaimer she is not Megan Fox lol I realized that could be confusing.

Taglist: @taytayize123 @ctrlszn @supernaturalvikingwhore @jae-writes-fanfiction @bigsisbria @placeoffreedom @kyla-queen @missdforever @gottatoxicattitude @bang-kim-bap @msreshel @blowmymbackout @titty-teetee @strawberry-skyes @mauvecherie @savageiz @luci-her @littlelovebug98 @babyboy-cody @hellshedevil @daddyavesxx @crystalbaby12 @jeonsblackgf @fangirl199812 @thatonegrl-1 @isyoongi @lifeisabitchandsoareyou @cartoonlover101 @therandomthoughtsofmsparker @bowwowzer @fandomfic-galore @mayaslifeinabox @lasren @szaplsdrop @heavenly1927 @mvrylee @canyoubuymetoast @littlelovebug98

#mgk #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly fic #machine gun kelly fanfiction #machine gun kelly x reader #machine gun kelly x black reeader #colson baker #colson baker fics #colson baker x reader #colson x reader #colson baker x black reader #laketa j writes

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onepieceheadcannons · 3 years

Text

So this wasn't requested but I wanted to give some random Headcanons

Now this post definitely isn't for everyone's taste,

Now I know quite a bit about ABO dynamics and I haven't seen any headcanons on what each strawhat would be. Now if you do not like ABO, do not worry this will be my only post with it that isn't requested and I won't be offended if you skip this.

This definitely isn't the most detailed it can go but it's like 3 am for me and I just want these HC's outta my mind.

The Strawhats

Luffy;

This man is an Alpha, I mean how else could he become Pirate King.

Now I mean no hate to omegas, I think they should be highly respected. But based on what a society in ABO is like, it makes the most sense for Luffy to be an Alpha.

He is protective and strong, plus conquerors Haki is very similar to pheromones. He would do anything for his crew and he wants them safe.

He wouldn't be appealed to have an Omega, it wouldn't be on his agenda and he'd handle a rut very privately.

He would fight his way to the top fairly and wouldn't discriminate against betas and omegas.

I'm also down to hear anyone's different opinions on any of these.

Zoro;

I can see him in many different ways, I can see him as an Alpha but I can see Omega with insecurities about it, but my most confident answer is Beta.

The reason why is because his undying loyalty to Luffy. He would fulfill the role as a Beta quite well. He would be able to avoid the hormones of others and be quite unbothered by all of it. He would work slightly harder to be the greatest swordsman especially if Mihawk is an Alpha. He wouldn't of presented before his best friend died but if she began showing signs of an Alpha, he would probably feel the extra competitive edge to be better.

He wouldn't care if someone is an Alpha or Omega, why should that shit matter to him.

And he wouldn't really care about what his partner was.

If he was an Omega, he would use suppressants and be damned if anyone knew. He would probably beat himself up over it and would build a high tolerance to pheromones. He would NEVER let someone help through a heat unless a long term relationship. And he would never be caught in an Mpreg situation.

And if he was an Alpha, he would accept Luffy as overall Alpha. He wouldn't feel like fighting it and he has the serious demeanor. He would protect any omegas but refuse to participate in a heat. He would fight himself a shit ton and never let his guard down.

Usopp;

Beta man, there's no way he'd be an Alpha. I mean he would always feel sad about it most likely, wanting to be brave and strong. He would probably have some lingering thoughts about the system, he wouldn't see Omegas as less than but he would probably assume that Omegas and Alphas are meant together and he has to find a Beta.

Until his crush on Kaya, the caring Omega. He would fight himself internally over it but she wouldn't care if he was a Beta. She probably was told she had to find a nice Alpha but that wouldn't affect her, she really cares about Usopp. She even goes to medical school to fix him up.

He would be disturbed by Ruts and Heats, he would get flustered and stay away from whoever was having one at the time.

Sanji;

Just like Zoro I can see any of them,

But I'm leaning Beta/Omega. No offense if you are like 😡 I want an Alpha Sanji don't disrespect my man's like that

Reason why I can see Omega, he is quite loving and I think he'd make a great dad. He loves ladies so much and being an Omega wouldn't stop him. I mean hey, look how much he likes fiesty women. He definitely wouldn't be against a female alpha, as long as he doesn't know about the extra appendage during a rut.

His family storyline would play into this, his dad would've been pissed if all Sanjis siblings are an Alpha but Sanji was a "weak" omega son. He would definitely be an angry and powerful Omega, training his tolerance to pheromones. And oh my god he'd be so angry if Zoro is a Beta/Alpha.

He would avoid Alpha men, I don't see him ever wanting to date one. I think he may be a little fruity but it's so internalized he would never be okay dating any male. He would probably hope for any female, but preferring an Omega/Beta.

If Sanji is a Beta, he'd be right up there with being a supporter of Luffy. He would definitely offer to help Omegas through a heat (and promptly get turned down) . He would be frustrated anytime an Alpha was in a rut and avoid being near them at all costs. It would piss him off especially if they wanted one of the crew.

His preferences would stay the same as if he were an omega.

And as an Alpha, oh my this man would be the most respectful ever. He would be damned before he let himself with an Omega without consent said before the heat was even close. He would protect his Omega at all costs. And he would let them bite his neck back. And he would defend any omegas in a vulnerable position. He definitely has a savior complex about it though. But he definitely would believe he could only have an Omega.

Brook;

He is a skeleton, this wouldn't even affect him.

As a human tho, I could see an Omega with his love of the arts and his love for Laboon and his crew. But I don't have much of detailed one for him. Beta, possibly but that's the easiest to presume someone as.

Chopper;

He is a damn reindeer. I just wanted to include my besties name but yeah he is a reindeer no way in hell would this affect him and he'd just make suppressants for everyone. Even with the human human fruit, that wouldn't add abo to his form.

Franky;

Now there's a chance that now as a cyborg this doesn't affect him. But pre cyborg or if it did, I see him as an Omega.

This man cries his heart out (which I love dearly about him) and he is such a big bro/dad figure.

He wouldn't care what anyone was but as a kid he may have had some trouble with the concept until Tom taught him better. Esp with Ice for Brains, who I could see as an Alpha/Beta so Franky may have felt less than.

Robin;

Alpha or Beta, but she isn't an Omega.

She holds herself up with an air of stoic and dark humor/themes. She would be quite a helpful Beta and she'd protect any Omega friends. She would feel very strongly about Omegas being seen as the same as everyone else. And she would feel very insecure if she was made to submit to anyone unwillingly.

I can see Alpha tho, (esp Frobin <3), she lets Franky let his tears out and she is such a good friend. She would struggle to let her feelings out which would make her line in Enies lobby even more important. She would be experienced and she would probably offer to help an omega she was very close to but she wouldn't settle down unless you are Franky or a very solid partner to her. She wouldn't care if you were another Alpha or Beta though, she'd love you for you.

Jinbe/Jimbei;

Now I don't know if Fish people/men would even be affected but if they were.. he would be...

Alpha, but in a very nonchalant way. He was a warlord, and not just anyone would get that. He wouldn't ever make someone submit and he would fight for rights for everyone esp Omegas in his community. If he did settle down, it wouldn't matter to him. Just as long as he can share his feelings in a safe place.

But beta would work as well, he is quite devoted to his crews and is a loyal person in general and shows alot of care to Luffy during the timeskip.

I also haven't finished Fish man Island yet so I have little to work with.

Nami;

I did save her for last, this is probably the most biased one. I mean as you guys will learn, she's my girlfriend/wife, so I may see her slightly different than someone else would.

Now I feel like as many of the others, she can fit in all three. I mean everyone is going to show traits to each kind which is why I try to explain myself for each.

Alpha, i can see this. She's very fiesty and she sure as hell wouldn't want to submit to anyone. She would be a little embarrassed during a Rut and she would use suppressants. She would be fine with not being top dog but she definitely wants her respect, she's the entire reason they get anywhere.

She isn't looking for romance but she'd be fine with anyone as long as they were worth it. I think an Alpha male would be her least likely pair though, that person would have to be quite honorable and prove themselves to her as good enough.

If she's an Omega, she would be quite angry about it. She wouldn't want to be perceived as weak and sure as hell would use suppressants and she'd be damned if an alpha helped her through a heat. The only way she would, would be after a super solid relationship where there's extreme trust. She would slap the crap out of Sanji if he tried anything or suggested anything, she wouldn't have any patience especially after she had to deal with the bullshit she heard her entire time with Arlong and other crews stealing treasure.

If she was a beta, she'd probably go after another Beta. Keep thing simple. She would eyeroll at any alphas and she would be over the whole alpha/omega bullshit.

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words-etched-in-her-skin · 3 years

Note

Want more hatesex? Get more hatesex.

The next time you visited her, the door to her hut was open. No need to knock, nothing - it was as if she already expected you and didn't bother to wait for you to knock. A gesture that basically told you were expected. She knew you'd come back. Was she mocking you again?

You went inside with a sigh, already feeling the heat between your legs rise once more as the familiar smell wafted around you. Leather. Smoke. Baked dough. A hint of lakewater, fish, and the fruity, sweet shampoo she used.

And there she sat, on the couch, yellow eyes cutting to you the moment you were inside fully.

"Knew yeh'd come today."

"Needed to give back your clothes."

Last time, she'd dissolved yours and left you without anything to wear - but had begrudgingly given you some of her own stuff, even some that more or less fit you. A tank and some pants. You'd told her you'd bring them back, and you hated her for the smirk she'd worn on her face. Of course she'd known that wouldn't be the only reason for your return.

"Aye. Thanks."

"Sure. So, are you gonna fuck me now or should I leave?"

"Gettin' right to the point, eh? Needy, are we?"

"Just want to know if I'm wasting my time."

"Oi, yer the one who jus' wandered in needin it again."

"And you're the one whose door was just about as open as her legs were last week."

"As I said. Knew yeh'd come."

"Make me, then."

With a smirk, you stepped closer, slipping the coat off of your body and dropping it to the floor just before you leaned over Sal and caged her head in with your arms.

"Be a good girl and make me come."

She didn't blush this time. This time, she growled, grabbing both your wrists with tentacles you hadn't seen out so far, slowly letting them slither upward.

"None of tha'. I had a shit day and if yeh wanna come, yer goin to go to the bedroom, lie down on yer back, put yer arms up and spread your legs like the pretty lil slut yeh are."

She pulled you in, until her lips were right at your ear and she could lick over it with her tongue.

"Oh, and put somethin' under yer hips. I wanna get into that tight lil' ass of yours. See how wet it gets yeh when I fuck it and how fast yeh beg me to put somethin' up yer pussy as well."

When she let go, she was smirking, tentacle slapping your ass once. And with as much dignity as you had left while you were already pretty much dripping, you went to her bedroom and undressed, piling your clothes and then lying down just as she'd said. On your back, arms up, legs spread, a pillow lifting your hips up for easier access. The position alone turned you on. Knowing what she'd do, that she'd use you to fuck her frustration out, turned you on. And you hated it and loved it both.

The village was utterly stuck up about sex in general, so something like butt stuff was... Considered utterly dirty. Sal knew that. And Sal made a point fucking your ass whenever she wanted and making it feel so good that you forgot all shame. You'd never come from it alone in particular, but the way her tentacles and possibly strap had pounded you... Alone the thought made you swallow.

Sal entered the room soon after you, naked, five tentacles out behind her back that made your core clench in anticipation.

"Good lil slut."

She said as she saw you, two tentacles immediately tying your wrists to the headboard into the dangling leather cuffs as she crawled onto the bed.

"Safeword's clear?"

"As usual."

"Good."

You used the headlight system - most simple, and utterly effective. Not that you'd ever used it so far. Sal let her gaze wander over your body as the two tentacles started roaming it, teasing against all your weak spots and making you squirm as her eyes latched onto your aching core, a chuckle vibrating in her throat as she blew cool air onto you and made you squirm.

"So wet already... Needy lil' thing."

Alone those words made it worse. As did the simple view of one tentacle, the tip already wet with its own lubricant, descending between your legs. It slid into your ass without too much resistance, stretching you out and making you whine out. Fuck, what was this woman doing to you? All the talk of anal sex being impure, and here she was, taking it for herself again and only turning you on more.

Your breathing hard as the tentacle spread its lubricant inside you, getting you all nice and prepared for the undoubtedly rough thrusts that would follow, wiggling around already - but it seemed more this time. Much more, in fact. And when you looked at Sal with a hint of confusion among the arousal, you saw her smirk wickedly as a second tentacle touched the entrance to your ass.

"Two?!"

"Ye."

As it slid in - with some effort, but you were so well lubricated that it didn't hurt in the slightest - you whined into the pillow next to you, your hips bucking, a hint of angry tears in your eyes as you felt yourself being claimed even more than usual. You hated her. Hated how good she made this feel. How wet you were for her, how the juices of your core were dripping onto the tentacles that were currently nestled inside you.

You tried to glare at Sal... But in that moment, the two appendages wrapped around each other and thrusted into you. And you screamed. Screamed in pleasure as you bucked down onto them, as Sal leaned over you and grabbed your hair, nipping on your earshell and growling a "Such a dirty lil slut. Ya just love havin your pretty ass fucked, dontcha?"

And then, a touch gentler, she added. "Yer look beautiful."

She added a twist to every movement, or a wiggle, but kept it slow, steady. Yet with force behind. And you knew you needed more if you were to come. You knew she'd be waiting for you to beg for it. For the last tentacle to fill your core and rub your clit. And you wanted to refuse it. You bit your lip, glaring up at her... But you didn't see her defiance or smug dominance looking back at you.

Instead, you saw pure need. Pure greed. Pure desire.

"Count yerself lucky. I can't wait today."

She whispered... And then filled you completely, bending over you and biting your neck harshly as she started pounding both your holes, listening to your screams while she marked you, making one thing abundantly clear.

This was only the beginning.

🤤🤤😩😩😩💦💦💦💦

GODS, FUCK.. AND WHAT DELICIOUS HATESEX IT IS.. FJFJDKSKDKDJDKSKJDKSKS..

ASK AND YOU SHALL RECEIVE, ANON 😏

And fuck, how you hated how lucky you felt - how utterly delicious it was to be filled by her. With the slick movements of Sal's appendages working your body in a way that made you wonder who wanted it more. A primal look to her eye that reminded you she could break you in half at any second. The sharp tips of her teeth teasing over your heated skin as she followed the fine lines of your body back up to you ear, leaning in.

"Aren'tcha a pretty lil' slut.. all filled and drippin' fer me."

A firm thrust by all three tentacles at once, forcing a sharp cry from your lips. A dark chuckle across your flesh as she licked over it, sinking her teeth in. The appendage in your core sliding up deliciously from the deepest part of it and over to your clit, again and again while the two in your ass proved relentless inside you. You knew she could smell the warm juices flowing steadily from your core as she teased and fucked it, and you knew how much she hated its effect on her.

"Ne'er seen yah so wet before. Like gettin' yer ass filled, do yeh?"

"Gods.. fuck.. f-fuck you, Sal."

"It's gettin' harder an' harder to believe yeh mean that, sweetheart."

The deep blush that spilled so easily across your cheeks at the change in petname, only fueled how much you hated the effect she had on you. You wanted nothing more than to scream out - to tell her to go fuck herself - but the desire to have her fuck you instead was always so much greater. There was no more intoxicating feeling, nobody on any earth - in any realm - that could fuck a person into next week like Sal.

You yelped as her teeth found you again.. as her pace swiftly picked up.. at the most delicious sounds filled the small home as her tentacles slid mercilessly in and out of you, forcing your desire straight from your core. Breath hitching in your throat at the supreme heat that spilled over you with each indulgent thrust.

"Ah-! Fuck.. but .. you're the one.. fucking me so good right now.. Sal."

You barely got the praise to roll off your tongue before a profound growl resonated deep in her throat.. before her hand was around your neck, forcing you to look at her. A flame of a warning burning deep within the embers of her eyes as they locked intently onto yours.

"Jus' fer that... lil slut.. I'm gonna make yeh come harder than yeh ever have in yer life."

She said the world's plainly, her voice calm and collected yet still sending a prompt shiver down your spine. The sharp smirk across her lips almost rivaling the sharp points of her teeth as they scraped over you. Her growl rolling across your skin like thunder as she drove her tentacles harder and harder into you, ripping countless cries from your lips.

"Beg fer it, slut."

The intense heat that switfly washed over you at the lack of warmth to her command. Her tentacles holding you in place as she watched how badly you wanted it - needed it - smiling down at you smugly as she waited.

"I.. fucking.. hate-.. Ah-!"

She drove her apprendages in your ass roughly into you, pushing the deep heated pressure that inhabited you to an almost frenzied level.

"I said beg fer me."

A sharp cry from your lips as she bit you again, licking crimson droplets from your flushed skin.

"Fuck.. please.. fuck.. fuck you, Sal... please.."

She chucked as you writhed frantically beneath her, utterly desperate for release.

"Heh.. needy are yeh?"

You cursed again under your breath, screaming out as she forced all three tentacles at once. Compelling an unhinged pleasure to shoot straight across your body, to engulfed you in a way that you had never felt before. White hot - unyielding - igniting ley lines across your body like a unhindered wild fire. Juices gushing from your core as her relentless thrusts pushed one orgasm on you after another. And fuck, how she was right.. how she'd kept her promise .. assuring that you had never came so hard in your life. Sufficiently soaking the bedsheets beneath you as she kept you filled until the very last shudder fell from your breathless body.

"Still hate me now, do yeh?"

Sal chuckle a tad softer, slowly pulling her tentacles free from your flushed body.

"More.. than.. ever."

You answered between labored breaths, between the inherent trembles of a body just wrecked.

"Heh.. good. Need aftercare?"

"Nah.. I'm good.."

She nodded and threw your clothes from their spot on the floor in your direction, making her way to the door.

"Ah.. sorry, ma'am .. but I sure the fuck ain't leaving without making sure that you hate me just as much."

Sal raised a single eyebrow, dropping her fingers from the doorknob as she turned to face you.

"That right?"

She smirked in a way that made you want to rip it straight off her mouth... to make her lips curl into the most delicious of moans. And as you began to close the distance the between you, you vowed you wouldn't stop until you did that very thing.

Gods.. fuck... fuck.. djdjksskksksjsjs..I'm. ... So fucking gay... fuck... 🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤 THANK YOU FOR THAT, DEAR

And not to worry all the non Sal simp fans, I'll be doing some Alcina soon 😘

#depravity answered #anonymous #resident evil village #genderbent sal #fuck #afjdkskskkkskske #gods fuck #i #aaaaaaaa #why hadnt anyone informed me #that hare sex was so fucking hot?#like #fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck #🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤💦💦💦💦💦💦#furjdkskksakr #re8 asks

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protecticarus · 4 years

Note

I didn't know I needed this until now. Prompt idea: Dirk meets Todd's parents who just assume Dirk is his boyfriend, and for fun Dirk plays along while Todd is clueless

i decided this prompt would work with a christmas setting, so here we are! i’m back!

i tweaked the prompt just slightly by making dirk “play along” unknowingly, so without realizing what todd’s parents are implying. the result however is the same mortifying ordeal for todd, amusement for everyone else and fluffy set up for the next step in dirk and todd’s relationship! i hope that’s alright!

possible tw: alcohol and some swear words.

merry christmas y’all! x

”Are you absolutely certain it’s alright for me to tag along?” Dirk asked, for maybe the 18th time that day.

”For the last time, Dirk, my parents were the ones to invite you themselves. I know you don’t know them yet, but let me tell you, my parents are the kind of people who won’t do something they don’t actually want to. So yes, Dirk, I’m absolutely certain you’re welcome to spend Christmas with me and my family this year. Now please, stop asking.” Todd explained, for what he hoped would be the last time. He kept his eyes on the road as he drove - much to Dirk’s dismay who wanted to be the one behind the wheel himself, which Todd refused to let happen, insisting that he wanted to live to see the new year - but he could practically feel Dirk furrow his brow in deep thought.

”As long as you’re sure.” Dirk finally mumbled his reply.

Todd resisted the urge to roll his eyes. ”I’m sure.” He said instead.

Dirk was uncharacteristically quiet on the drive over to Todd’s parents’ house, a fact which would normally demand all of Todd’s attention, but he was currently too nervous himself to be of much comfort to his friend. The last time Todd had seen his parents was when he told them everything. The faked pararibulitis, the real reason for him dropping out of college, the screwing his band over, the money… They had, of course, been very upset and hurt, but ultimately willing to forgive Todd. They just asked for some time, which Todd happily gave them.

That had been four months ago. Todd had talked to his parents in the meantime, on the phone and via email, but he had yet to actually spend time with them, face to face. His mother had assured him that she and Todd’s father had moved on and forgiven him. And Todd believed them. But he also knew they would like to talk about it. As soon as his parents had expressed their need for some time to think, Todd had taken the opportunity to escape the uncomfortable situation. Four months ago.

It was one thing to hash things out over email or even on the phone, but another to do so face to face. While his parents’ gesture to invite Todd’s eccentric colleague/best friend along had been made to assure Dirk didn’t have to spend Christmas alone, Todd’s relief of being able to take Dirk with him had been partly selfish. Dirk was his buffer. Any time he felt too uncomfortable, he could just use Dirk as a distraction. That, and Dirk provided Todd with comfort and support he desperately needed, a fact he was a little less willing to admit, even to himself.

Too soon for both of the men, they had arrived at Todd’s parents’ house. Todd took a deep breath after putting the car safely in park. ”Ready?” He asked the man next to him.

”No.” Came Dirk’s reply.

”Yeah, me neither.” Todd sighed. ”Let’s go.”

They both made their way to the door which was immediately flown open before either of them had the chance to even entertain the idea of ringing the doorbell.

Amanda threw her hands around her brother’s neck in a quick hug. ”Thank fuck you’re here, I’ve been alone with them for like an hour.” She said and then moved onto wrap Dirk in a quick hug of his own.

”Sorry, we left late. Dirk couldn’t decide on a tie.” Todd said.

Dirk rolled his eyes. ”Right, that and Todd pretended to have a headache and contemplated calling in sick. From Christmas.” He replied.

Amanda gave Todd a dirty look. ”Wimp.” She said.

”Shut up. Both of you.” Said Todd and finally stepped into the house with Amanda and Dirk on his heels.

As soon as they entered the house, they were met with the sharp ringing of the smoke detector.

”Guys, Todd and Dirk are here!” Amanda yelled over the alarm.

”Come in, come in!” Came the reply from the direction of the kitchen.

The trio made their way toward the voice and the alarm.

”Mom, is something on fire?” Todd asked as they entered the kitchen to see Todd’s mother surrounded by grey smoke.

”Of course not, Todd, you know that alarm is too sensitive.” Todd’s mother replied nonchalantly and took a sip of her white wine.

”Smoke detectors tend to react to smoke.” Amanda said.

”Yeah, well, a little smoke never hurt anybody.” Came the reply.

”I wouldn’t put money on that.” Amanda remarked.

Suddenly the alarm quieted down. ”Got it!” Yelled Todd’s father from somewhere in the house.

”Thanks babe!” His wife replied. Then her eyes finally landed on Dirk. ”Oh you must be Dirk! So nice to meet you honey, sorry for the smell.” She said and put down her wine glass.

”Hello Mrs. Brotzman. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” Dirk replied in a nervous voice. ”I hope it’s alright that I-” He was cut off by Todd’s mother wrapping him in a surprisingly strong hug.

”The moment Todd mentioned you had no family in the States I knew we had to have you over for Christmas! Lucky us you’re not from here, huh? Gosh that accent is adorable by the way, I totally see the appeal.” She said and patted Dirk’s cheek after pulling away from the hug.

”Jesus, mom.” Todd groaned.

”T-Thank you, Mrs. Brotzman.” Dirk replied, quite taken aback by the friendly welcome.

Todd’s mother made a face like she’d smelled something bad - other than whatever had just set off the smoke detector. ”Ugh, no, Mrs. Brotzman is my mother-in-law. Please call me Jo, Joanna if I’m in trouble.” She said.

Dirk smiled and let his shoulders drop a little in relief. ”Alright. Jo, then.” He said.

Jo smiled back and patted Dirk on the shoulder. ”Good kid.”

”Who’s being a good kid? Surely not any of ours?” Said Todd’s father as he stepped into the kitchen.

”Dad…” Groaned Todd and Amanda.

Jo laughed. ”Of course not. This is Dirk.” She told her husband.

”Ah yes, how’s it going, Dirk? I’m Thomas.” He said and extended his hand to Dirk.

”It’s… Good. Going good. Thank you for having me, Mr. Brotzman.” Replied Dirk as he shook Thomas’ hand.

”Told you, it’s Thomas.” Insisted Thomas.

Dirk gave an awkward smile. ”Ah, yes, Thomas. Of course.” He said.

”Good to have you here with us, Dirk. Jo and I were just saying how it’s about damn time.” Said Thomas.

Dirk blushed. ”Why thank you, Thomas. I’m very happy to have been invited.” He said.

Todd furrowed his brow in confusion. Had he even talked about Dirk that much to his parents? In fact, he’d made the conscious effort not to, as much of Dirk was impossible to explain without explaining… Well, Dirk. So why were they so eager to meet the guy?

”Wine anyone? We can have a drink in the living room while the ham calms down.” Said Jo.

”You should know that in this house we have to hope for mom’s cooking to ’calm down’ before we attempt to eat it.” Amanda fake-whispered to Dirk.

”Oh hush you.” Said Jo. ”So we’re not a family of chefs! We have other strengths.” She added.

”I’ll drink to that.” Said Thomas while he poured himself a glass of red wine. ”Dirk, are you a red or white kind of guy?” He asked.

Dirk froze. ”Uh, I… I suppose-”

”Red, right? Cause it’s richer, more… Fruity.” Todd jumped in.

Dirk looked grateful for the interruption. ”Yes. Red, that’s right.”

”Great, I won’t be the only one emptying the bottles of red tonight! These three won’t give up the white.” Thomas said.

”That’s because it’s better.” Said Amanda.

”Here, here!” Said Jo and raised her glass in a toast.

Thomas nudged Dirk. ”They just don’t get it.” He said.

Dirk didn’t even care that he’d never actually tasted a drop of red wine, he just enjoyed the feeling of camaraderie with Todd’s father. Dirk smirked at Todd, as if to say ’look, look how well it’s going.’ Todd rolled his eyes fondly at Dirk. As he turned away, he caught his mother’s eye, who gave him a look he couldn’t quite read. It was a warm look though, similar to the teasing ones she’d given him before he revealed what an asshole he was. Todd felt his throat tighten at the warmth of the look, and quickly poured some wine down it.

”Let’s move to the living room to chat, I want to know all there is to know about you, Dirk!” Said Jo and began leading the way to the living room.

”And by all she means-” Todd began.

”All that has nothing to do with time traveling, soul swapping or alternate dimensions, I know.” Said Dirk.

Once seated around the living room - Dirk, Todd and Amanda on the couch, Jo and Thomas snuggly on an old armchair facing the couch - Jo leaned forward and gripped her glass tight. ”So, Dirk. Tell me.” She said.

Dirk blinked a few times in silence. ”Tell you…?” He questioned.

”Everything!” Jo clarified.

”How about we start with: where are you from? England?” Asked Thomas.

”Yes, England.” Dirk replied. ”Not much to say about it though, I came here when I was quite young.”

”Your parents wanted a change of scenery?” Asked Jo.

Dirk smiled awkwardly. ”Something like that.”

Todd tensed next to him, knowing the topic was nearing dangerously emotional territory for Dirk.

”Where are they now? Back in England?” Jo asked.

”Oh. Well…” Dirk began.

”Mom, this isn’t an interrogation.” Interrupted Todd.

”Of course not!” Jo exclaimed.

”I don’t think your mom meant it that way, Todd.” Thomas said and gave Todd a disapproving look.

”I know, just-” Todd sighed.

”It’s alright, Todd.” Said Dirk. ”Truth is, Jo, I haven’t seen my parents in a long time. I was told they died a while ago though. I haven’t been able to confirm it, but I don’t have a reason not to believe it to be true.” He explained vaguely.

Jo and Thomas stared at him in silence for a moment. Amanda took a rather large sip of her wine. Todd placed his hand on Dirk’s in his lap and gave it a supportive squeeze. Dirk gave him a soft smile in return.

”I’m sorry, Dirk, I didn’t know. Todd never said…” Jo finally said and gave Todd a stern look. Todd wasn’t sure why, but clearly his mother thought it should have been obvious to Todd to inform her of Dirk’s parents’ status.

”It’s quite alright, Jo. Like I said, I haven’t seen them in a long time. Since I was a boy, really. I’m quite used to being on my own.” Dirk reassured her.

”You’re not though.” Said Todd quickly. ”On your own, I mean.”

Dirk gave him a watery smile. ”No, I suppose I’m not.” He said quietly.

”Aww…” Said Jo. ”You two are so precious.” She added.

”What?” Asked Todd.

”Thank you.” Replied Dirk.

”How did you meet again? Todd’s recount was pretty vague.” Jo asked.

Todd was still trying to decipher what his mother had meant by her last comment when Dirk already went to answer the new question.

”Oh it’s quite the story, actually!” He said, his mood immediately back to chipper.

”Uh, yeah, maybe the, uh… Abridged version of the story, Dirk?” Said Todd.

Dirk turned to look at him. ”Ah.” He said at the expression on Todd’s face. ”Of course.”

Todd’s parents exchanged a look that made Todd’s ears burn for some reason.

”Well, you see, I broke into his apartment through the window.” Dirk explained.

Todd squeezed the bridge of his nose. ”Right, cause he… He got the wrong apartment.” He said.

”I did?” Asked Dirk. Todd gave him a look. ”Yes, of course I did. Stupid Dirk, always climbing through other people’s windows by accident.” He added.

”Right, so… Dirk had just moved in and he forgot his keys. And so he tried to get into his apartment through the window, only he climbed into mine, cause it’s right below his.” Todd explained.

”Yes.” Agreed Dirk. ”Precisely.”

”Wow.” Jo commented. ”What a… What do the kids say? A sweet-meet?” She asked.

Amanda snorted into her wine glass. ”A meet-cute.” She corrected her mother.

”Right!” Said Jo. ”A meet-cute!”

Todd flipped Amanda off while their mother explained the concept of ’meet-cute’ to their father.

”We had a meet-cute too, didn’t we Thomas?” Jo said after a moment.

”I suppose we did.” Replied Thomas.

As Dirk insisted on hearing the story, Todd couldn’t help but stare at his parents in stunned silence. His mother had just compared his and Dirk’s first meeting to hers and her husband’s. Todd was no holistic detective, the universe didn’t give him hunches, but he was beginning to get the creeping feeling that there was a misunderstanding between him and his parents. Dirk however didn’t seem to notice.

”How did you two meet?” Dirk asked Jo and Thomas. ”I’d love to hear the story!”

”Oh man.” Amanda laughed. ”Here we go.”

”It’s a great story!” Said Jo. ”I was in a band.”

”Like Todd!” Exclaimed Dirk.

Jo smiled knowingly. ”Yes, where do you think he got his musical talents from?” She said.

”Me, of course.” Said Thomas.

”Please, our guitar skills go way beyond your cute little bass.” Jo challenged.

”And I can drum you all under the table.” Said Amanda. ”Get on with the story, mom.”

”Right.” Jo said. ”So, I was in a band and we wanted to participate in this battle of the bands type thing at a local pub. Problem was, we were all 17, juniors in high school, and one of the requirements for signing up was to be 18 or above. So we needed someone older.” Jo explained.

”So imagine this,” Thomas jumped in, ”I’m at my locker at school and this girl, dressed in all black with crazy spiky pink hair, walks up to me and says ’you play bass or something, right?’ No introduction or nothing.” He said.

”I’m nothing if not efficient.” Remarked Jo.

”That you are, babe.” Thomas agreed. ”So I said yes. She confirmed that I was indeed 18 and before I knew it, I was in a band. A previously all girl band too, mind you.”

”Compromises had to be made.” Said Jo. ”So we had an 18-year-old to sign the form. And we rocked, hard.”

”Did you win?” Dirk asked.

”No.” Replied Thomas.

”It was rigged to high heavens!” Said Jo. ”We should have won.”

”I feel like I did win that day.” Thomas said.

”Aww,” Said Jo, ”You’re such a sap. That was the day we got together.” She added for Dirk’s benefit.

”And by ’got together’ she really means hooked up.” Amanda remarked.

”Yeah, well, it worked out.” Said Jo.

”That’s an amazing story!” Dirk agreed.

”Told ya.” Said Jo.

”Well, it’s not quite as dramatic as breaking into the other’s apartment by accident.” Thomas said.

”Yes, well, at least she didn’t throw a shoe at you.” Said Dirk and gave Todd a pointed look.

”Todd!” Exclaimed Jo.

”I thought he was a burglar, what was I supposed to do!” Todd in turn exclaimed.

”First thing I said to you was ’hi!’ What kind of burglar greets his victim!” Dirk argued.

”A bad one?” Todd remarked.

”Yet somehow you ended up working together, is that right?” Asked Thomas.

”Yeah, we work together now.” Todd confirmed.

”And what is it that you do, exactly?” Thomas asked.

”I’m a holistic detective. Todd is my assistant.” Explained Dirk.

”A holistic detective? What’s that?” Thomas asked.

Dirk was right about to leap into his ’the interconnectedness of all things’ speech as Todd jumped in. ”It’s a type of private detective. More of an… Open-minded approach than the police.” Todd explained. He could hear Amanda holding in laughter next to Dirk.

”I see. Cool.” Thomas said.

Todd took a sip of his wine, hoping his father was done with the topic of their job. There’s not much he could actually tell him about it without sounding like a crazy person.

”So, how long have you two been together exactly?” Jo asked.

Todd spit some wine back into his glass in his surprise. There it was.

On second thought, maybe they should be talking about time traveling and purple people-eaters instead. Or maybe even Todd’s fake pararibulitis.

”Almost 7 months!” Dirk told Jo.

Todd shot him an alarmed look, trying to will him to shut up, but Dirk either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

”Wow,” Said Jo, ”That’s pretty serious.”

”Oh definitely.” Dirk replied.

Todd wanted to sink into the couch, never to be found.

”How serious would you say it is, Dirk?” Asked Amanda, clearly loving the turn of events.

”Shut the fuck up, Amanda.” Todd hissed.

”Mom, Todd said ’fuck.’” Said Amanda.

”I did not raise a snitch, Amanda.” Said Jo.

”7 months, huh?” Thomas repeated, changing the subject. ”How come we haven’t met Dirk before now?”

Todd thought his skin might melt off his face based on how badly it felt like it was burning.

”Uh… I- It never came up.” He explained lamely.

”Well, I for one am so glad to meet him now. You better come back here with Todd from now on!” Jo said.

Dirk’s eyes lit up. ”Oh I would love to, Jo, thank you!” He said.

”Of course!” Jo replied. ”I don’t remember the last time Todd brought someone home.”

”Oh my god…” Todd mumbled. He couldn’t believe this was happening.

”Well, I’m very glad he brought me!” Said Dirk. ”I should have known you two would be equally as lovely as your children!” He praised.

Jo lifted her hand to rest on her heart. ”Aren’t you the sweetest! Isn’t he the sweetest, Thomas?” She said.

”Indeed.” Agreed Thomas.

Todd couldn’t tell whether Dirk was deliberately indulging his parents’ idea of them as a couple, or if he really didn’t realize that’s what he was doing. Either way, Todd felt completely ganged up on.

”As soon as Amanda said she really liked you, I knew you must be special. She’s never liked anyone Todd’s been with.” Jo said.

”Yeah, cause they were all losers.” Said Amanda. ”Which you, Dirk Gently, are not.”

”Why thank you, Amanda.” Dirk said, seemingly genuinely touched.

Todd tried to figure out where exactly this train had gone so far off the rails into Let’s All Embarrass Todd Town. He had to put an end to this.

”Dirk, join me in the kitchen, will you?” He said abruptly.

”Why?” Asked Dirk.

Todd bit his teeth together in frustration. ”I need more wine.” He said.

Dirk glanced at his own glass. ”I’ve barely touched mine though.” He said.

”Just come with me!” Todd hissed.

Dirk furrowed his brow in confusion, but nonetheless stood up and followed Todd out of the room.

”Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Jo yelled after them.

”That’s not saying much.” Thomas said, smirking.

”You wouldn’t have me any other way.” Jo countered and placed a sloppy kiss on her husband’s cheek.

”Fuck me.” Amanda huffed and finished off her wine.

As soon as Todd stepped into the kitchen, he turned around to face Dirk, who almost ran into him.

”What are you doing?” Todd asked.

”I was just going to ask you the same thing.” Said Dirk.

”I’m serious, Dirk.” Todd added.

Dirk furrowed his brow. ”I don’t know what you’re talking about, Todd.” He said.

”I’m talking about you, out there, with my parents.” Todd tried to get Dirk to understand.

”Did I do something wrong?” Dirk asked, now worried.

Todd blinked a few times. ”You really don’t know what I’m talking about, do you?” He finally asked.

”No?” Dirk replied.

”My parents think we’re a couple.” Todd explained.

”A couple…?”

”Dating, in a relationship, romantically involved!” Todd huffed in frustration.

Dirk looked genuinely surprised. ”They do?”

”Yes!” Todd exclaimed. ”And you’re confirming it for them!”

”I am?” Dirk asked.

”Yes! Obviously!” Said Todd.

”Are you certain, Todd?” Dirk asked.

Todd sighed. ”Jesus, Dirk, my mom basically compared us to her and my dad! And you went along with it! And Amanda, fucking Amanda… How did you not pick up on the comment about people I’ve dated in the past?” He said.

Dirk thought for a moment. ”Why doesn’t anyone use the word ’dating’, it’s all so vague.” He finally said.

”Only to you.” Todd huffed. Dirk looked annoyed and Todd felt bad. ”Sorry, I just… I wasn’t sure if you didn’t realize what was happening or if you deliberately went along with it.” He explained.

”Well, I did not. Realize or intentionally go along with it. I thought I was just making conversation.” Dirk said. ”I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” He added.

Todd sighed. Now he felt like an asshole. Again. ”You didn’t.” He assured. ”I just… Sorry, I’ve just been on edge about seeing them all day and this, this misunderstanding threw me for a loop I guess. I didn’t mean to take it out on you. Sorry.”

Dirk gave him a soft smile. ”It’s alright.” He said. ”I’ll pay closer attention to others’ choices of words from now on.”

”Okay.” Todd said. ”I guess I’ll just… Have to correct them. God, that’s not gonna be awkward at all.”

”Sorry.” Dirk said again.

”Stop apologizing.” Todd said and grabbed a bottle of white wine. ”Let’s just go back. I’m guessing Amanda’s in desperate need of more wine.”

They made their way back to the living room, where Jo and Amanda were engaged in a seemingly heated discussion.

”Yeah, but who in their right mind doesn’t list Bikini Kill when talking about iconic punk bands with female vocalists!” Exclaimed Amanda.

”I simply didn’t get that far-” Began Jo, only to be caught off by her husband.

”Look, the boys are back! Let’s put a pin in this discussion for now.” Said Thomas.

”Kathleen Hanna would be so disappointed, mom.” Amanda said.

”Don’t you tell me what Kathleen Hanna of Bikini Kill would be at me, young lady.” Countered Jo.

”Uh, anyway,” Said Todd as he and Dirk took their seats next to Amanda on the couch, who immediately grabbed the wine bottle from Todd. ”Mom, dad, I should, uh, say something.” Todd added.

”Go ahead, honey.” Jo replied encouragingly.

Todd looked briefly at Dirk for reassurance and Dirk gave him a genuine smile and an encouraging nod.

Todd took a deep breath. ”Right, so… I don’t know where our wires got crossed but, uh… Dirk- Dirk and I are not dating.” He finally said.

Jo and Thomas didn’t say anything for a moment, only stared at Todd. They briefly shifted their

gazes at Dirk, after which they settled back on looking at Todd in confusion.

”What do you mean, Todd?” Thomas asked finally.

Todd blinked a few times in silence. ”I mean… That we’re not… A couple.” He repeated.

”Since when?” Asked Jo.

”Since always?” Replied Todd.

”I’m so confused.” Said Jo.

Todd sighed. ”Look, I don’t know what the hell happened, all I know is that you got the wrong idea. We’re just friends. And, you know, colleagues.” He explained.

”Are you sure?” Asked Thomas in turn.

”Am I- Yeah, I’m sure, dad.” Assured Todd.

”Dirk?” Asked Jo.

Dirk swallowed and shifted awkwardly on the couch. ”Yes, that’s right. I’m sorry if I implied otherwise before, I didn’t… I didn’t realize we were talking about two different things.” He said.

Jo nodded, thinking. Thomas took a sip of his wine. Amanda topped off Todd’s glass.

Finally after a minute or two of silence, Jo spoke again. ”Why?”

Todd turned to look at Dirk who simply shrugged. ”Why what?” Todd asked his mother.

”Why are you not a couple?” Jo clarified. Thomas hummed approvingly at her question.

”Oh shit.” Whispered Amanda into her wine glass.

”I- What?” Asked Todd. He didn’t dare to risk looking at Dirk right now, who was blushing rather violently next to Todd.

”Well, considering everything you’ve said tonight and us misunderstanding in the first place… Why is it that we got it wrong? Why aren’t you together?” Jo explained.

”Jesus christ, mom…” Todd sighed.

”What? Why is that such a strange question?” Jo asked.

”It isn’t.” Said Thomas. ”Since we thought-”

”I know what you thought!” Huffed Todd.

”I’m really sorry to have confused you-” Dirk tried to cut in softly.

”It’s not your fault, Dirk, stop apologizing.” Todd sighed.

”Yes, but why did you?” Pressed Jo. ”Look, all I’m saying is, to me it sounds like maybe it’s not such an impossible scenario for us to have conjured up.”

Todd could practically feel Dirk freeze up next to him. Todd himself felt like running out the door and never looking back. What, had his parents not forgiven him after all and this was their revenge?

”Mom, you can’t just say stuff like that.” Todd said quietly.

”Why?” She asked.

”Because- Because you just can’t.” Todd replied.

”Because it’s not what you want?” Jo asked. ”That’s okay, you’re allowed to say that.”

”No, obviously that’s not why, I-” Todd began, before immediately cutting himself off. He couldn’t believe he’d been that stupid. His mother played him like a fiddle. He’d eaten right out of her hand.

Jo was smiling now. ”I see.” She said. Yeah, I bet you do, thought Todd. He’d reacted exactly like she’d expected him to.

”Dude…” Said Amanda.

”Shut up.” Said Todd.

”What?” Asked Dirk.

Todd sighed and covered his face with his hands. Amanda lifted Todd’s wine glass from the coffee table and removed one of his hands from his face, wrapping it around the glass. Todd lifted the glass to his lips and took a generous gulp. Amanda patted his back encouragingly.

”Todd…” Dirk said softly. ”What-”

”Dirk, can we not…” Todd mumbled into his glass.

”Why not?” Dirk asked.

”What?” Todd asked in turn, now looking at Dirk for the first time in several minutes.

”What?” Dirk repeated.

”Oh my god,” Amanda groaned, ”You’re both into each other, have been since day one, which, shocker: mom and dad figured out before they even met Dirk! So please, for the love of all that’s holy, just finally make your peace with that so that we can go eat mom’s scorched ham and get on with Christmas.” She said.

As Amanda mumbled something along the lines of this is why I don’t do relationships and sipped her wine, everyone else digested what she’d just served them.

”Well said, daughter.” Said Jo finally.

”Thank you, mother.” Replied Amanda.

”Todd,” Said Dirk, ”Is that true?”

Todd swallowed awkwardly. ”I don’t know. Is it?”

”Jesus, do I need to do everything for you?” Asked Amanda.

”No, you shut up now. And maybe have a glass of water.” Said Todd quickly. Amanda flipped him the bird.

Jo stood up. ”I’ll go see if the ham’s calmed down. Amanda, come get a glass of water.” She said.

”I’m 24 goddamn years old…” Amanda mumbled as she followed her mother out of the room, her father on her heels.

Thomas shot a quick thumbs up at Todd and Dirk before disappearing into the kitchen behind his wife and daughter. Todd rolled his eyes.

”So.” Said Dirk.

”So.” Repeated Todd.

”Is this going to be one of those things we just don’t talk about, or…?” Asked Dirk carefully.

Todd sighed. ”As much as I want to say yes,” He said, ”It probably shouldn’t be, right?”

”Right.” Agreed Dirk.

Neither of them said anything more.

Finally Todd groaned. ”I suck at this.”

Dirk chuckled. ”Well, I’ve never done this before, so, I can only assume that so do I.”

Todd laughed too and turned to look at Dirk. ”Did… Did Amanda have a point? And- And my parents for that matter.” He said, his voice much softer now, insecure.

”Yes.” Dirk replied immediately. ”Well, I mean… I hope so.” He added.

”Yeah?” Todd asked.

”Yes.” Dirk assured him.

”Okay. I mean… Yeah, me too.” Todd said.

”Really?” Dirk asked.

”Yeah, really.” Todd said.

Todd could’ve sworn he’d never seen Dirk smile brighter. It sort of made his stomach hurt.

”Maybe…” Todd said. ”Maybe we could talk about that more, you know, when we’re not in my parents’ house?”

Dirk nodded eagerly. ”I’d like that.” He said.

Todd smiled. ”Cool.” He said.

Dirk took a deep breath and let it out in a sort of relieved laugh. ”I just- I thought perhaps it was just me and that it would be horribly inappropriate if I-” He tried to explain.

Todd was hit with a strange mix of relief and guilt. He was relieved that Dirk seemed to be on the same page with him, despite Todd having never had the balls to even entertain the idea that he might be. Todd also felt guilty, because apparently Dirk had been convinced he couldn’t talk to Todd about this. Todd had made such strict rules for himself when it came to Dirk and any acknowledgement of any possible feelings regarding Dirk, that it had come across as totally unapproachable.

As if Dirk could read Todd’s mind, he added: ”That’s not your fault though.”

Todd sighed. ”I sort of have a history of not communicating what I’m really thinking.” He said.

Dirk smiled. ”Touché.”

”I’ll try harder from now on. Promise.” Todd said.

Dirk nodded. ”Okay.” He said. After a moment he continued. ”In the spirit of saying what we’re really thinking… I feel the need to say that this is perhaps the best Christmas I’ve ever had.”

Todd smiled. ”Yeah? I’m sort of a fan myself.” He said and took Dirk’s hand in his, intertwining their fingers.

Dirk looked down at their joined hands in wonder. Then he looked up at Todd with an expression that made Todd simultaneously want to look away and personally thank both his parents and Amanda for provoking this moment.

”Good news and bad news boys!” Amanda’s voice broke the moment. ”Good news: dinner is ready! Bad news: the ham didn’t totally burn so we still have to eat it!”

”You’ll eat it and you’ll like it or I’m cutting you off from wine!” Jo’s reply could be heard.

”Scratch that! Mom’s ham is the eighth wonder of the world!” Amanda backtracked.

”Damn right it is!” Said Jo.

Todd rolled his eyes as Dirk laughed.

”Wanna go pretend my mom can cook and answer more uncomfortable questions?” Todd asked.

Dirk grinned. ”Lead the way.”

They entered the kitchen, still hand in hand. ”I hear the ham’s somewhat edible after all?” Todd asked.

His mother turned to them. ”Of course it is! Everything’s going exactly to plan.” She said. Her eyes fell to their joined hands and she gave Todd the warmest of smiles.

”Smells great, babe.” Said Thomas. ”Sit down, everyone.” He added.

Once seated, Jo turned to Todd and Dirk again. ”So,” She said, ”Dirk, any plans for Easter?” She asked.

Dirk laughed, blushing. ”Not that I know of.” He said.

”We do an egg hunt, Brotzman style.” Said Todd. ”You’ll love it.”

Dirk smiled at him. ”Yeah?”

Todd smiled back. ”Yeah.”

Jo clapped. ”Welcome to the family, Dirk!” She exclaimed.

”Mom…” Todd warned, but his warning lacked conviction.

Thomas raised his glass in a toast. ”To Todd and Dirk!”

Jo raised hers in turn. ”To my match-making!”

Todd raised his glass. ”Fuck you all.” He said.

Amanda raised her already half empty glass. ”And to all, a goodnight!” She exclaimed.

Everyone laughed before taking a sip of their respective drinks.

The ham turned out to be surprisingly good, which didn’t stop Amanda from making jokes. Dirk did his best to hide his shock at what red wine actually tasted like and got Todd to finish his glass while he himself moved onto water. After a pleasant meal accompanied by lively conversation, Thomas talked Jo and Todd into playing the guitar while the rest of them sang Christmas songs. Well, Thomas did. Amanda drummed on the table and switched the lyrics to the parody ones from her childhood. Dirk didn’t know the songs to begin with, but that didn’t stop him from trying to sing along. Todd had to stop playing at one point because he was laughing so hard at the lyrics that came out of Dirk’s mouth when he tried to anticipate what Thomas would sing next. Jo and Amanda both agreed that Dirk’s lyrics were much more interesting than the original ones.

When his mother pulled him aside after their impromptu caroling, Todd remembered to be nervous about having to talk about the other elephant in the room. In the end, Jo only wanted to apologize for putting him on the spot earlier. She also said she was so happy to see him again after months, which said all that needed to be said. Todd knew they’d have to talk more in depth about his years of lying, but tonight was not for that. Tonight was for family, strange cooking, bad singing and good company.

If his parents shot him entirely too knowing looks when Todd stole a kiss from Dirk under the mistletoe later in the night, he didn’t notice. All Todd saw was the slow falling of snow outside the window and the blinding smile on Dirk’s face.

if you have ideas for fics, send me prompts! my inbox is always open! x

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