#I’m gonna eat it….but the printer is too loud.

[frau-line]

the isosceles that Saturninus grabbed (he doesn't know what's coming)

Helping My Apostle With Spreading The Gospel 😂😂 (SOCIAL EXPERIMENT) (GONE WRONG) (GONE VIOLENT) (WHAT WERE THEY THINKING⁉️)

[pikablu410]

Baby, it’s Cold  Outside

Here’s the delayed holiday story! Unfortunately the winning submission had a really similar story posted the day of Christmas, so I decided to use one of my own ideas. That and I got a bit busy around the holidays. Sorry for the delay and hope you all enjoy!

“And then he said, “If you’re so smart then why don’t you fix it?!” So then I fixed the printer!” Kris happily explained.

“Sick! Your boss is a bitch for that one.” Matt said, laughing, before taking another sip of beer.

Kris joined in the laughing before taking a sip of his own, “He’s an asshole, not much I can do about it. I’m paid well at least.”

Matt nodded and let out a slight belch. Looking down at his phone, he noticed how late it was. “Oh shit, Christine’s gonna be pissed I’m out so late.” He set down his beer and grabbed his heavy black jacket and started to head out.

“Are you sure you wanna drive in this weather? They said we’re supposed to get a huge blizzard at 6.” Kris advised.

Matt just shook his head. “I don’t wanna see her when she’s mad. I might die from her before the blizzard gets to me.” He said, referring to his girlfriend.

“Alright, suit yourself.” Kris said as he laid back on his recliner and turned on the TV. Matt waved goodbye before walking out of Kris’s apartment building. With both of them being recent college graduates, it was all they could afford, but it was a nice place nonetheless.

Regardless, Matt was quickly regretting leaving the building as he saw the outside. Several inches of snow already covered the ground and it looked like a lot of it was quickly becoming solid. Knowing it wouldn’t be long before the roads were caked in a thick layer of ice, Matt decided to head to his truck as quickly as he could.

Hopping in the cold automobile, Matt inserted the keys and turned the engine on. A loud puttering sound was heard for a few seconds before it shut off. 

“No, no, I gotta get to Christine!” Matt scolded himself. Despite his determination to start the truck, it wouldn’t budge. Matt opened the hood and saw that it was already starting to collect ice on it. Even worse, when he tried to call his girlfriend on his phone, he was immediately given the voicemail. 

Shortly after, Kris heard a knock on his door and couldn’t help but be glad his friend was back on his doorstep. 

“My engine’s frozen and I can’t get a signal. Would you mind if I stayed here for the night?” Matt asked.

Kris happily let his friend into his apartment once again. “You feel really cold, let me get you something to eat to keep yourself warm.” He said, in an oddly caring tone. Usually the two friends teased each other back and forth, but Matt was too cold and bothered to say anything about it.

“Maybe we can head to the gym together tomorrow morning like we used to in high school.” Matt said as he sat down at a small table in the kitchen.

“Yeah, sure, I guess that’d be nice.” Kris said, seemingly focused on something else.

Matt was a bit concerned about his friend being on cloud nine. Kris usually loved to talk about his model-like body with Matt, as Matt would talk about his ripped body too. Most people would call them “gym bros” but they both were really just into physical fitness and health.

Kris setting down a bowl of soup snapped Matt out of his concerned thoughts. “I hope it tastes good!” The boy said before heading back over to the kitchen counter, Matt presuming he was just cleaning up.

Matt then looked at the soup in suspicion. It looked like normal chicken noodle soup, with cut up vegetables and everything. “I didn’t hear Kris cut anything up, and I never knew he was a cook in the first place.” Matt thought as he took a spoonful out of the bowl. It smelled a bit sweet, surprisingly, but it made Matt’s stomach growl in anticipation; he was hungrier than he thought!

Placing the spoon in his mouth, Matt was pleasantly surprised to find that the soup tasted incredible! It was almost like a perfect blend of salty and sweet, and the chicken and vegetables were cooked perfectly too! The noodles swam smoothly down his throat, and it wasn’t long before he noticed the entire thing was gone.

The jock was surprised he ate something so quickly, let alone a bowl of soup. He was still a bit in awe of how good the soup tasted, and it was difficult to process all this strangely incredible information all at once.

Matt sat back and started to absentmindedly rub his belly, but as his hand circled the pauch he felt as though something was off. Looking down, Matt saw that his shirt was pushing out from his stomach. For some reason, he thought something was off, like his shirt should fit him better. However, as Kris placed a pizza on the table, his mind wasn’t able to connect the dots.

“I figured just some soup wasn’t enough to fill you up, so I made a pizza too!” Kris happily said, “It’s your favorite: extra greasy meat lovers!” 

Matt didn’t remember having a favorite kind of pizza, much less it being so greasy and calorie-dense, but his grumbling belly pushed back any stray thought he had about the pizza. All he knew was that he was hungry

Grabbing one of the slices, Matt soon tasted the same incredibly delicious sensation he did when he ate the soup. It wasn’t long before each hand had a slice of pizza, the boy alternating which slice he ate between his hands.

Matt quickly finished the pizza, surprising himself when he had to resort to licking the remaining sauce off of his fingers when there were no slices left. Belching once he was finished, Matt looked down at himself and noticed his shirt didn’t cover his bellybutton. He got a little worried, since he didn’t remember being so big. Rubbing his gut, Matt thought he should’ve felt abs instead of the chubby belly that was there instead. But the idea of abs seemed so foreign to a body like his, and Matt was confused where the idea even came from.

“You still seem hungry, let me get some more warm meals for you!” Kris said as he looked over Matt and set down a plate of warm cookies.

Matt was about to ask Kris something, but he soon realized that he was hungry. Grabbing one of the cookies Matt took an eager bite and felt warm, gooey chocolate melt in his mouth. He didn’t notice that it also got around his lips and cheeks, but he was back to eating another cookie before he did notice anything.

Grabbing a gallon of milk like he knew it would be there, Matt chugged the creamy dairy down as if it were chasing the sugary goods. He just kept eating cookies until there were no more, so he decided to chug the rest of the milk down too. Matt didn’t question why he was able to chug an entire gallon of milk, it just felt right to him.

“URRRRP, damn, thanks Kris.” Matt belched out as he set the empty gallon down next to him.

“Don’t thank me just yet, I’m still not done cooking!” Kris eagerly said as he placed down more cookies and a pie.

Belching again, Matt wasn’t sure he would be able to eat all the food Kris was giving him. 

“Uh, Kris, why are you giving me so much food?” Matt asked, absentmindedly rubbing his newly acquired flab. 

“Because you said it was cold out, so I figured you needed a warm meal. I don’t want your stay here to be so miserable and boring.” Kris happily said as he got back to the oven.

Matt looked down at the food in front of him and then himself. His shirt barely covered any of his belly anymore. Plus, he had moobs straining the shirt now and he could feel his jeans stretching to hold in his rear and thighs. Something wasn’t right, but he wasn’t sure what.

Taking a deep breath, Matt finally said something, “I don’t know if I can eat all of this Kris. I mean, I’m getting pretty big and- URRRRRRPP.” 

“Are you sure you’re not hungry? That belch sounded pretty piggish of you.” Kris teased before he set down a small chocolate cake that had icing dripping down the sides.

Again, Matt realized that Kris was right and that he was actually hungry. Taking a slice of the pie, he eagerly dug in to find that it was filled with cream and chocolate. The boy eagerly took another slice and rapidly devoured that one as well, quickly finishing the pie to move onto the cookies. 

Glancing over at the cake, Matt reserved his right hand for eating cookies while he used the left to grab chunks of cake. He didn’t bother to notice how much of a mess he made, and if he did he didn’t care; the food was too good to stop eating it. Chocolate surrounded the edges of Matt’s mouth and was scattered over his growing belly. It was only when he finished the food that he noticed how sloppily he ate it all.

Letting out another large belch, Matt sat back in the noticeably smaller kitchen chair. It felt like it barely provided room for his bulbous ass or his wide back. Had he really been sitting on this for the entire time he had been eating?

“Nice job on that last course, big guy, but the next one’s coming up!” Kris said as if he were a waiter joyfully serving a customer who’d leave a generous tip.

Matt took this as a cue to look at the table, which made him see himself before anything else. His belly was starting to push into the dainty kitchen table, which worried Matt a bit. He also noted that his shirt must’ve come off during that last meal. Or did he ever have a shirt on at all? Matt couldn’t remember. All he saw was a belly and moobs that were lightly dusted with some hair, which didn’t seem off considering the cold weather outside, but it still set some alarms off for Matt. He also noticed his pants and underwear were gone, if he had ever had them on in the first place. Matt’s thighs, like ass, were starting to fall off the sides of the chair. Something was definitely up and Kris must’ve known something.

“Kris, what’s going on?” Matt plainly asked, able to resist the smell of food for a short bit.

“I already told you, silly! You were hungry and it’s cold out so I’m giving you a nice, warm meal.” Kris answered, as if there were no issue.

Matt sighed, “No, I mean, why am I so big? I definitely don’t fit in this chair and I don’t know where my clothes went. I don’t think I was this big when I got here.” Kris frowned, “Your stomach kept growling and I didn’t want you to go hungry. You’re so big because of your appetite!” 

“I think I should leave. I can call an Uber or Chris…Christy…?” Matt started, but then trailed off. Why couldn’t he remember his girlfriend’s name? Brushing it off for now, Matt tried to sit up from the table, but was surprised when it took more effort than he expected to stand up.

“I’m not that big, am I?” Matt doubted in his head. Why was everything so confusing all of the sudden? Out loud this time, he asked, “What’s my girlfriend’s name Kris?” 

Kris titled his head a bit, like a confused cat, “Girlfriend? I don’t remember you ever bringing one up.” He then placed another platter on the table, which got Matt to sit back down. Not that he wanted to sit down, but it smelled too good to pass up whatever it was.

“I think you need to take a break Matt.” Kris said as Matt eyed the feast in front of him. Before Matt could even dig in, Kris grabbed a handful of some alfredo pasta and shoved it into Matt’s drooling mouth. “A nice, long break.” He hushed before shoving more pasta into his friend’s mouth.

Matt didn’t even resist as Kris continued to feed him. He moaned in pleasure at the taste of melted sauce and cheese in his mouth in combination with the pasta he was barely able to chew before he was forced to swallow and eat more. The dazed out boy didn’t even flinch when Kris stopped the pasta for him to chug a glass of beer. Belching, he felt Kris rub his greasy, sauce covered hands on his bloated yet fattened gut. Was there more fur on there than he remembered? Another belch stopped his thoughts completely before Kris shoved a burger into Matt’s mouth.

This time the big guy was ready, his mouth open in anticipation of Kris feeding him more. The belly rubs hadn’t stopped, various sauces and flavors getting mixed up on Matt’s ever-growing gut. When Kris stopped to feed him more beer this time, Matt’s ass cheeks looked like they exploded as he let out a ginormous fart. Matt didn’t seem bothered in the least, focused on whatever was being fed to him at the minute.

“You’re being such a good pig, Matty.” Kris whispered in Matt’s ear as he fed the growing boy more. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t make a feast big enough for my big boy?” Kris whispered again as he groped Matt’s moobs, the bloated boy moaning at the feeling. “Are you enjoying yourself, baby?” He asked ask if he already knew the answer.

“M-more…” Matt moaned out before belching. He could hardly do anything else.

Kris smirked as he moved onto the next course he had prepared for Matt. The helpless boy devoured hot dogs, fries and brownies before Kris went back to cooking another course. Matt was stuck between the table and the chair with how large his belly had grown, forcing him to just belch until he felt comfortable. He let out a fart before he noticed a platter of donuts on the table, the fatty struggling to even reach the plate on the table. Faint creaks were heard from Kris, Matt too determined to eat more food to notice. After another few seconds of reaching the chair under Matt snapped and broke into pieces.

“Oh my gosh, are you alright?!” Kris barely masking how turned on he was with his low effort acting.

Matt seemed to buy it, though, “Yeah, I’m fine. I just can’t…get up.” 

Kris could barely hold his excitement in as he went to lift his boyfriend off the ground. Even with his athletic body, it was difficult to lift the near half-ton man. Slowly, Kris guided Matt back to the couch in the living room, where he had been before he decided to try and head off. 

What Matt hadn’t noticed when he was sitting there earlier was that there was a large mirror across from him in the living room. He knew Kris liked to take photos and flaunt his looks online, but he always thought it was in his bedroom, not out in the open in the living room.

Looking at himself, Matt felt strange, as if something was off. His belly sunk between his thighs when they weren’t together, which was difficult to do considering how wide they were. It looked as though his legs weren’t really used for moving, even though Matt thought he had been pretty quick for whatever reason. His moobs looked more like tits, sagging down on his belly and starting to droop to his sides. He was starting to remember that Kris loved to grab them and play with them, leading to them becoming quite sensitive. Matt also noticed the vast amount of hair on his belly and chest. It looked like he had never shaved since puberty in high school, but he couldn’t remember shaving in the first place. His face wasn’t as tampered, just the edge of his chin slightly touched with fur, though it was more noticeable due to the numerous, flabby chins. 

“How do you feel?” Kris asked, sitting down next to him with the next platters for Matt.

“I feel…good. Nice and warm…and big. I like it.” Matt mumbled as he rubbed his messy gut. 

“No, you love it.” Kris corrected, and for some reason Matt quickly changed his mind.

“Yeah, this is fantastic. It feels so good.” Matt moaned out. He felt a stirring under his gut, but struggled to reach under.

“You’re like a big teddy bear. My big teddy bear.” Kris whispered as he fed Matt some food covered in sauce. He couldn’t tell what it was. “So big and sexy. And warm.” Kris cooed as he felt Matt more.

Matt just moaned. He loved this feeling. As he ate the food, feeling the sauce drip down the side of his hairy belly, he looked at himself in the mirror and moaned louder. Jiggling his gut, Kris chuckled at his boyfriend. 

“Here, I can multitask.” Kris said as he reached under Matt’s gut and grabbed ahold of his fat pad and jiggled it. Still eating, Matt came for the first time that day. He knew there would be more; Kris always spoiled his pig of a boyfriend.

[lovelylunarwriting]

Jaemin Soulmate!AU

Jaemin has a reputation as a “cool” kind of guy, which is why he wears bracelets to hide the words permanently etched on his left wrist

“Wait- if it’s not butter, then what is it?”

Jisung and Haechan are notorious for giving him shit for having a ‘weird’ soulmate, but Jaemin thinks it’s kind of funny, honestly

Like great question dude but,,, why are you asking me this

Jaemin’s apartment is around the corner from a little family-owned grocery store that he’s frequented since his high school days.

He’s very much a regular, to the point of the owner being like “Jaemin…. Please just work here. You already know where everything is”

To which Jaemin has to respectfully decline, because he wants to focus on his dancing and singing, and working too much would get in the way of practicing.

That, however, does not stop the old man from sending customers with questions to Jaemin whenever he comes in.

Because Jaemin is too polite to be like “uhh I don’t work here, good luck”, he always ends up helping them

But secretly, he doesn’t mind. He thinks that maybe one day, his soulmate will be the next one to ask him a question.

Even after repeated questions about “how much does this cost?”, “when do you guys open tomorrow?”, “when will the next shipment of bok choy be in?”, he still isn’t terribly bothered.

The other employees chastise the boss for sending customers to Jaemin, but the old man is always like “he knows this store better than you all do. That’s why he gets a discount higher than yours”

Employee discount: 15 percent off all merchandise

Na Jaemin discount: 20 percent off all merchandise

It’s an unspoken rule amongst employees that Na Jaemin gets a discount, but they are NEVER to mention it to him! He knows that business has been rough recently and wouldn’t accept the generosity, but the boss thinks Jaemin is too skinny and wants him to be able to afford to eat well.

Now lovely reader, this is where you come in. You recently got a job at this grocery store but you work in the back, so you have never seen the famous “Na Jaemin” that all your fellow employees chat about so frequently.

Coworker #1: “Ugh, he’s like SO dreamy”

Coworker #2: “I know right? He’ll have no trouble becoming an idol at this rate”

Meanwhile you’re like “lol what who? Also where is the printer for printing clearance labels”

You specifically applied for the back of house position because you did not want to talk to people.

It’s not that you’re antisocial by any means- honestly it’s the opposite. It’s just that you have the tendency to say whatever you’re thinking with absolutely no filter.

So in the past when more…. challenging… customers have talked down to you, you gave back the same energy without thinking.

Management was not happy,,, so you were like “mmmm maybe I should just keep to myself and everyone would be happier”

One day though, it seems that you’re shit out of luck.

Your work bestie calls you at 3 in the morning on your day off saying that her kid has a fever and she’s gotta stay home and take care of him.

You have no plans other than generally being a lazy lump at home, and she’s always had your back at work, so you’re like “girl don’t worry about it, I got your shift. I’ll make some chicken noodle soup for him too”

To which she’s like “bitch if I hadn’t found my soulmate already I would’ve snatched you up T-T”

You giggle and tell her to try and get some rest- both her and her kid.

And then sleep another blissful 4 hours before rolling in for the 8am shift.

When you get there, boss man is like “ayeee so you’re covering for her shift which is stocking shelves, are you gonna be okay doing that?”

You: “Ahaha yeah it’ll be fine~ just please don’t send customers to me oh my gosh”

Boss Man: “Don’t worry, I just saw Jaemin walk in. I’ll send them to him”

You: “... who is Jaemin”

Boss Man: “He’s my FAVORITE!! Remember that!”

You: “Oh, okay!! Yes sir!”

You’re like fifteen minutes into your shift and you’re already on edge because all you’ve done so far is dodge all the old ladies who are shopping this early.

No actual products have been put on the shelves yet, or at least not by your hands.

Settling down in the dairy section, you relax a bit and start putting cold products in the cold shelves fixed to the wall.

And of course- things are in the wrong place. Why would anyone put anything back where it belongs?

Picking up a product, you glance at the label out of sheer boredom more than anything.

“Wait- if it’s not butter, then what is it?”, you say to yourself.

Or so you think.

“Yeah, that is like the one question I don’t know how to answer”, you hear a masculine voice say from behind.

You spin around and look up into the man’s face.

And oh boy is that a nice looking face.

“Oh I’m sorry, I- WAIT”, you start, before you realize what he said.

Grabbing his left wrist, you push up the bracelets to reveal what you’d just said. Then you drop his hand out of sudden shyness, and because it’s not cool just to grab people.

“Do… do you mind if I look at your wrist as well?”, he asks quietly.

You roll up your sleeve and present him with your arm. He delicately wraps his fingers around your wrist and flips it over to read the words written”

He drops your wrist and sinks into a squat, flopping his arms over his head and looking at the ground.

“Oh my gosh why did I say something so lame…”

“Umm,,, to be fair,,, I did ask you about butter so by comparison yours isn’t that bad,,,,”, you try to comfort him, and he lifts his head up to meet your gaze.

“You mean that? It wasn’t like the lamest thing you’ve ever heard?”

“Oh I’ve heard much lamer things, don’t worry!”, you say with a cheery smile that contrasts your words entirely.

He stands up again and clasps your hands in his. With a look of determination he looks straight into your soul and asks:

“What time do you get off work?”

You tell him, but let him know that you’ll be busy after work making chicken noodle soup for your coworker and her son.

He’s like “oh you can cook?” and you’re like “lol no but I’m gonna die trying”

He writes his phone number on your arm (next to your soulmate tattoo) and is like “text me when you’re done with work and I’ll swing by and walk you home and maybe I can help you cook”

And quickly clarifies “ONLY IF YOU’RE COMFORTABLE WITH ME IN YOUR HOME, I UNDERSTAND IF BECAUSE WE JUST MET YOU-”

You’re like “dude,,,, it’s fine, we are literally destined to be together. Also if you try anything I’ll just beat you up so it’s chill”

Looking at his watch, he sprints makes a beeline for the checkout counter, going on about he’s gonna be so later and Haechan’s never gonna let it go if he’s late twice in a row, and something else but by that point he’s so far away from the dairy aisle you can only hear muffled sounds where words should be.

The next several hours could not go by ANY SLOWER.

Starting off today, you figured the day would go by quickly because you’d be preoccupied figuring out how to do something new, but now all you can think about is pretty soulmate boy.

And how he never mentioned his name, but to be fair, it was a rather quick exchange.

What feels like centuries later, your shift is coming to a close so you grab the ingredients you the internet tells you you need for the soup and head to your favorite cashier.

Somehow the front of the store is both quiet and abnormally loud for this time of night.

“Jaemin’s been waiting there for fifteen minutes? Do you think he’s waiting for someone?”

“Maybe he needs to talk to the boss? Usually he’d just ask one of us to grab him but he’s just standing outside”

“Ugh it’s so cold, should we tell him to come inside?”

You glance over to the crowd of coworkers towards the entrance and break out into a smile.

“Just keep ringing me up, I’ll be right back!”, you tell the cashier and fast walk past the small crowd.

Peeping your head out the door, you greet him.

“Are you cold? Come inside, I’m almost done”

“Oh okay, should I wait by the door though?”

“No, come with me. I wanna show you off~”, you instruct and he raises an eyebrow, but plays along.

Holding open the door for him, he scuffles his way in and shyly offers his hand.

Gladly, and with a pounding heart, you lock your fingers between his.

“Your hands are freezing, dude”

“Shhh it’s fine. I was trying to be cool, okay”, he jokes with you as you walk back to the register

Ringing up your items, the cashier is looking at you and him with raised eyebrows, and you’re just like “shut up jessica I’ll explain tomorrow”

The two of you walk back to your apartment and spend the rest of the night cooking and talking about everything and nothing.

The more you learn about Jaemin, the more confident you are that the universe got this one right.

Even when most things feel unclear, you know this person is someone you can always rely on.

(also when you bring your sick work bestie the soup, Jaemin insists on tagging along and she’s like “omg Y/N that’s JAEMIN” and you’re like “I KNOW” and he’s like “hi here’s some soup, also why do you know my name”

[makerofmadness]

Kirby: Deciding Match! Battle Royale!! Chapter ☆10: Kirby and Waddle Dee

“Well then, let’s begin the award ceremony!” Reporter Waddle Dee shouted. “The winner of the first ever Cake Royale is… Team Pink Kirby & Bandana Waddle Dee!”

Surrounded by lively applause, Kirby and Waddle Dee got up on the platform.

“Now, a testimonial from our great King Dedede… well, I thought the great king was going to give one, but he seems kinda unhappy right now, so I’ll read it out instead! Pink Kirby and Bandana Waddle Dee, since you two are the overall winners of the first ever Cake Royale, the prize is all yours!”

“Congratulations, Kirby!”

“You too, Waddle Dee! You were so cool out there!”

Loud applause came from the audience.

Tron and Cron were sitting in the guest’s seats. Tron was resting his chin in his hand with a gloomy face, while Cron was watching the winners�� podium with a smile on his face.

“Now, to the victors go the spoils! Specially made by the one and only Chef Kawasaki, the Deluxe Mountain Cake!”

The cake was slowly transported in a wagon. Loud cheers came from the stands.

“W-Wow! It’s huge! Plus, that fresh cream looks delicious!”

“As the name says, it’s big as a mountain! With fruits and chocolate piled on top!” Chef Kawasaki explained proudly. “I used only the most top-of-the-line ingredients out there! Now, take your time when eating, savor it!”

A helper Waddle Dee held a big knife in his hand.

“Now, time to cut the cake. Cut it into two halves-”

“Now!” Bandana Waddle Dee said. “ I can’t eat it like this. I’m gonna be full after two bites. I’ll give all that’s left to Kirby!”

“Really?”

Kirby was surprised.

“Only two bites? Are you really fine with that, Waddle Dee?”

“Yeah! Really, that’ll be enough to fill me up.”

The helper Waddle Dee cut enough cake for two bites and put it on Waddle Dee’s plate.

“I’m fine with this. And Kirby gets the rest-”

Before Waddle Dee could finish, Kirby was already getting in his “inhale” position.

“Wooooooo! Time to chow doooooown!”

“I knew Kirby would like it,” Chef Kawasaki explained with a smile on his face, “I stayed up all night for three days straight just to make this cake. First things first, on the top I placed some wonderful fruits that only grow once every ten years, with some of the finest quality syrup out there… Woah!!”

WOOSH!

Like a strong gust of wind, the Deluxe Mountain Cake was sucked into Kirby’s mouth, all in one go.

Chef Kawasaki, Bandana Waddle Dee, Reporter Waddle Dee, all the audience members, everyone tried to stand firm so as to not get sucked up.

Kirby swallowed the entire cake whole with a gulp.

“Mwah! That was delicious! Thank you, Chef Kawasaki!”

“...well, can’t say I didn’t see it coming,” Chef Kawasaki said with a stiff face, “I knew this was gonna happen. I spent three full days without sleep making this top-of-the-line cake…”

“It was delicious! Just as I’d expect from Chef Kawasaki!”

Kirby licked his lips.

“Can I have seconds please?”

“No!!”

“But it was so good!” Kirby said, skipping about. “If this is what the prize is gonna be, then I wanna have a tournament every day. I’d win every time!”

“I’ve already had enough of tournaments!! Never again!! This is the first and last time!!” King Dedede shouted.

Still in the guest’s seat, Cron’s face went stiff.

“S-Startling… What tremendous power!...”

“See? I told you so,” Tron grumbled, “if I had scattered copies of that guy, all of Dream Land’s food would’ve been eaten up, and I would’ve been rich!... if you hadn’t stopped me. Aw shucks.”

“Tron, that wouldn’t have been how things would’ve turned out,” Cron whispered in a shaky voice, “i-if such horrifying creatures had been scattered everywhere, it would’ve been a galaxy-wide crisis, not contained to Dream Land! It would’ve been far from an effective money-making scheme, your fields would’ve been annihilated in the blink of an eye!”

“...huh? Really?”

“The destruction of the printer was really a good thing!  I’ll never create such a terrible machine ever again. Come on, my dear brother, let’s go home.”

“Oh, I just thought of something. Using that power, you could invent a vacuum cleaner that could suck up anything and make tons of money-”

“LET’S GO HOME.”

Cron dragged his brother along with him out of the Battle Castle.

King Dedede commanded his Waddle Dees:

“C’mon, the tournament’s over now. It’s time to tear down the Battle Castle. Waddle Dees, demolish the assembly hall!”

“Yes, Great King!” the Waddle Dees all said together.

~

And so, the Battle Castle was demolished, and the curtains were closed on the enthusiasm and excitement brought by Dedede’s Cake Royale.

With the increase in Waddle Dees, Castle Dedede became a lot more lively. King Dedede seemed satisfied with having more hard-working subordinates.

However…

“C’mon, don’t be slow, Waddle Dee! We’ve gotta hurry, or lunch time’s gonna be over! Chef Kawasaki’s Deluxe Lunch with a special dessert is available today!”

“Kirby, please, wait up!”

Kirby’s friend Waddle Dee was one of a kind.

The two were happily playing around as they always had, without the king knowing...

Previous Chapter

Table of Contents

[leejeongz]

cravity reaction to you giving them the silent treatment

🔅thank you for reading my work and following! and than you for requesting! i wrote this like giving them the silent treatment, as you can tell, because i’m not sure what other context you would ignore them in🥺 i hope you don’t mind! and not all of them are serious hehe🔅

serim:

reason for the silent treatment: you were jealous when you saw him talking to the stylists and sitting real close to them

he tried his damned hardest to not give in to you. this lasted for quite a while this time actually, an hour maybe? then he started feeling empty. he hadn’t hugged you or bugged you for a whole hour, even you were getting concerned at this point. he came over to you while you were washing your bowl and pan from lunch, standing behind you for a few seconds before deciding to poke your cheek. you tried to ignore him at first, then you tried swatting his hand away.

“i’m not moving it until you talk to me!” he exclaimed. you knew the annoying smile he’d have on his face right now that you couldn’t resist so you chose not to look at him, instead you concentrated on putting the wet dishes on the drying rack. “i can do this all day”

he really wasn’t lying, you wouldn’t put that past him, so you just chose to give up, it was easier than having a clingy serim around you all day. (you get that anyway but what can u do?)

“you should eat” you said quietly. serim smiled at you in response and removed his finger.

“you’re right, maybe i will go grab something with the stylists” he joked, risking another hour of the silent treatment. he was so lucky that you could take a joke.

allen:

reason for the silent treatment: he forgot your 1 year anniversary (this got a lil deep for some reason, kinda angsty, just a warning)

he started by giving you as much attention as possible. usually you’d be loving the skinship and cuddles, but right now you didn’t want to even see his face. you swatted his hands away and stormed off to your room. he sat back on the sofa, eyes and mouth both wide. he’d never seen you like this before. his head soon fell into his hands, which rested on his knees. once the first tear fell, it was soon followed by dozens more. it made him even weaker knowing you were probably crying too. he didn’t know whether to come to you or not but he decided to stay put for a little longer. after a few minutes, he saw your feet across the carpet and lifted his head, apologising profusely as he did so. you sat beside him, and looked at him, which he reciprocated almost immediately. he grabbed your hands instinctively but not before wiping a tear from your right cheek.

“do you care?” you asked.

“of course i care. i care about you, about us, i care a lot.” he pleaded, tears starting to burn at his cheeks.

“okay” you said, licking a tear from lips and nestling into his side.

he wrapped his arm around you and sniffled some more before asking if there was any way he could make it up to you.

jungmo:

reason for the silent treatment: you failed an exam and you think it’s because he kept distracting you while revising

he couldn’t help himself, he just HAD to follow you around like a lost puppy. he tried his best to apologise, knowing it was the easiest thing to do even if he wasn’t guilty, but it just made you ignore him even more, not even giving him the advantage of reading your face. honestly, his incessant following was cute, but he could never know that.

“y/n please” he begged from behind you as you made your way to the bathroom. “don’t make me come in there too” he tried to make light of the situation.

you turned and stood against the closed bathroom door, now looking at him from across the hallway. you raised your eyebrow and he started to talk once again.

“i didn’t realise what i was doing, i just wanted to spend time with you, i will never do it again, if i do you can shout at me, i’m kidding please don’t do that ,i would cry, i know you wouldn’t ever-“ you stopped him with a kiss. you hated how he had you WHIPPED for him, but you wouldn’t really have it any other way.

“i won’t you idiot, although i may accidentally purposely back my chair into you, gently of course” you joked “now can i please go in here… alone?”

woobin:

reason for the silent treatment: he used your toothbrush

“you changed yours to the exact same colour as mine, it was going to happen on day anyway” he announced, rolling his eyes while walking to the cupboard to get himself a different toothbrush. “where are they?” he shouted to you.

you chose not to respond and that’s when he knew he was currently experiencing the dreaded silent treatment. normally he’d be quite thankful for some peace and quiet but the circumstances weren’t great so...

“oh brilliant, how mature of you” he slammed the door to the cupboard shut, still being careful not to damage it though. “you know it’s not going to get you anywhere” he once again rolled his eyes. “i’m going to my room, see you at dinner, sweetheart”. and that’s exactly when you saw him next. he was so stubborn sometimes, you had to give in else you’d never talk to him again.

“here” you tossed him a new toothbrush while he was close to the sink.

“this is still the same colour th-“

“ITS ROMANTIC WOOBIN” you shouted.

“from one extreme to another, clearly” he laughed, throwing you the toothbrush back. “now how about we be romantic in that restaurant down the street?”

wonjin:

reason for the silent treatment: he ate without you

“i swear i won’t do it again” he pleaded in his final words before giving up and slumping his way to his room, leaving you cooking your meal for one.

you wouldn’t normally be this mad about him eating without you, you didn’t even live together, it was just that today you’d planned to have dinner together but you were an hour late due to traffic. surely he could have waited an extra 60 minutes, right?

wonjin threw himself on the bed, sulking for 5 seconds then convincing himself he was in the right all along and acting like nothing was wrong. he pulled out his phone and started playing a game, one that he knew he would spend hours on if he started playing it. half way through the first round, something clicked in his brain. why was he sitting here neglecting you when he owes an apology? he composed himself and made his way back out to the kitchen, ready to start his begging for forgiveness.

“okay so sometimes... sometimes you can be unreasonable” great start, you thought, rolling your eyes “but on this occasion, i think your reaction is justified. take as long as you want, i’ll be standing right here” he said, mimicking a “rooting in place” action by twisting his feet on the laminate flooring.

minhee:

reason for the silent treatment: he accidentally recycled a piece of your homework

“how was i supposed to know you needed this stupid map?” he questioned. but you didn’t respond. instead you just went to his room and sulked, in silence. he followed and stood in the doorway, firing questions at you for the next 5 minutes before huffing and leaving you to sulk alone. he knew he was the mature one here, but he still felt guilty for what he did so 10 minutes later he came back to you and tried again, this time calmer and more willing to listen.

“i can help you do it again” he insisted “but i’m not that great at drawing maps” he admitted. you turned away from him. he probably thought you were just continuing the silent treatment but really, you were trying your hardest not to laugh.

“you know i just printed that out right? i didn’t draw that” you whispered, giving in.

“are you saying i just endured the silent treatment for a map that took seconds to print out? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?” he shouted jokingly, sitting at his computer and bringing up an identical map. “here, print.” he grabbed it off the printer and realised yet another issue “you also used MY printer ink. i should have give myself the silent treatment for wasting ink like that.”

hyeongjun:

reason for the silent treatment: he killed you first in among us

hyeongjun thought it was a joke at first, it was just a game after all it's not that serious.

“you can still do your ghost tasks” he mimicked.

you did NOT find this funny. he made you look like a fool in front of your friends, surely your boyfriend isn’t supposed to kill you first, you thought. you pressed the home button on your phone, automatically leaving the game, and turned your phone back to portrait. you scrolled through your home screens for a while, looking like you were doing something important in hopes it would make hyeongjun jealous but he was too engrossed in the game. it wasn’t until you threw your phone on the bed and got up that he realised you’d left.

“you left the game? why? oh you’re gonna get snacks? can you get me those chocolate jazzle things you bought for us please?” he asked, still engrossed in the game.

you rolled your eyes and let out a very loud “ugh” which he didn’t even bat an eyelid at. you returned with the chocolates in your hand which got his attention, but instead of handing them to him, you ate them and looked like you were enjoying them.

“i’m SO sorry i killed you y/n” he rolled his eyes as you did earlier, but you pretended to not hear him, just as he did.

this went on until he, as the imposter, lost the game, and you couldn’t help but laugh in his face.

taeyoung:

reason for the silent treatment: he laughed at you for getting scared during a horror movie

you hit his chest and got up in a huff. how dare he laugh at you when you were genuinely scared?! the sound of his laugh was always nice, always except now, it just annoyed you. you went to the fridge to grab some of his snacks, the first time you did this without politely asking for permission. he never minded that you wanted food, he wished you’d just get them yourself, you didn’t have to ask, what was his was yours, so you took advantage of that but it really didn’t feel right.

“hey the movie hasn’t finished yet!” he shouted, turning over and seeing you scan his fridge. “there’s nothing in there, i’m the only snack in this place” he said, flipping back over. “oh and you, of course”. you narrowed your eyes and bobbed your head sarcastically behind him, as if you were mimicking what he said. you sat back down again empty handed, this time sitting on the single chair that was far from him.

“oh what’s wrong? you think you’re strong enough to sit alone? you don’t need me anymore?” he laughed once again. you just concentrated on the screen, your heart beating faster than ever before, hoping no scares were coming up.

“okay okay i’ll stop. now please come over here and cuddle me because i think he’s gonna do something again and i don’t want you to be scared on your own.”

you contemplated his preposition for a little, the tv making your decision for you when the music started getting louder and you felt the need for someone’s arms around you.

seongmin:

reason for the silent treatment: he spent the whole of your day off napping

“what’s for dinner?” he asked sleepily. his eyes opened to your figure, stood over him, your arms were folded and lips were sealed shut in a sort of angry pout. “what?” he questioned.

you yanked you duvet from him and threw it on the floor now giving you the perfect opportunity to grab your teddy that he’d slept with and leave. but that boy was gripping on to your teddy for dear life it seemed, he wasn’t letting go. “what are you doing? i can’t explain if you won’t tell me what’s wrong. and i’m not giving up lolly llama until you tell me”.

“just give me the llama seongmin” you broke your silence.

“is it because i slept all day?” when the words left his mouth, you stopped fighting for the teddy, you stopped leaning over him, you stopped trying to hide what had been getting to you all day. “because if it is i’m sorry, i woke up today with a really bad headache and i didn’t want to worry you.” he pointed to the tablets and headache strips on the side.

“is it-” you paused to look at him “is it better now?” you asked, knowing the best treatment for a headache was sleep.

“a lot better” he smiled in your direction “i am prepared to pull an all nighter with my favourite person now”

gifs aren’t mine

[anika-ann]

Of Muffins, Coffee and Other Miracles - Pt.1

Of Muffins, Cheeky Vigilantes and Sad Interns

Pairing: Matt Murdock x reader        Word count: 3130 

Type: Two-shot, reader insert

Warnings: swearing, mention of attempted assault, tons of fluff and cheeky/cute Daredevil

Summary: You’re a secretary at Landman and Zack, having an office on the same floor as the interns. You notice one of them (which you might and might not have a crush on) seems down lately, so you decide to cheer him up the only way you can come up with. You bake muffins; right after your life is saved by a cheeky vigilante.  

You stared at the two unconscious men at his feet, still perfectly shocked but relieved, pressing your handbag to your chest.

You were slowly leaving your place by the wall – more like in the wall, because you had been trying to merge with it even since the two men had backed you into it, pulling out their knives and demanding your handbag. That had been before this guy had appeared and put them in a line – and you were pretty sure he put some of their bones out of their natural line, but you couldn’t find yourself to care.

“You… thank you. How— you… saved my life,” you stuttered, watching the man in a black mask wince as if he only now realized you were there.

“You’re welcome,” he said, voice pleasantly low-pitched, looking in your direction. “Though I’m not sure it would go that far if you have just given him your handbag.”

“Well, I couldn’t do that,” you retorted, automatically drawing the item closer to your chest.

He took two cautious steps to you, easing his fighting stance. “I know it would be a lot of paperwork and bureaucracy, but for future reference, it would be much better if you just gave it up.”

“I couldn’t. There’s a… there’s a secret recipe.”

“… a recipe. You… couldn’t have let go of your handbag because of a recipe. You’re joking,” he stated, and the little of his face you could see, free of the fabric of his mask, seemed shocked. And maybe a little amused. How would you know, you could only see his jaw. And lips – their corners were quirked inconspicuously, so yeah, definitely amused.

Well, at least you made him smile since he had saved you and all.

“It’s important! There’s this guy in my work and— never mind. Forget I said anything. I mean… beside the thank you. Wow, babbling is not my usual reaction to stress.”

“Well, if that makes you feel better I don’t usually chat with people I help out,” he said with a shrug, making you raise your eyebrows.

“So why do you now?” Not that I complain.

He shrugged again, coming a little closer again. “Nowhere to be. And you seem fun.”

Huh. Who would think a guy in a mask, lurking in a dark, would be such a nice person? He seemed genuine. You had no idea where he picked up the idea of you being fun, but you guessed he didn’t meet women protecting their handbags for recipes of all thing every night. Did he do that every night? Was that a thing?

You shook off the thoughts. “…thanks, I guess?”

“So, guy at work?” He smiled suggestively, clearly teasing you. You just gaped.

“Oh my god, I’m not talking about that with… with a masked guy! And… and it’s not like that,” you protested, questioning your own claim. Maybe?

“Really? So why that blush?”

You quickly checked you cheeks with your hand. “I don’t-“ You never blushed. You doubted you were now and your cheeks felt just normal-- that little shit. “You know, for a guy who lurks in a dark, you are sure pretty cocky.”

And for a near assault victim, I am pretty chatty and easy-going.

“People also say I’m a good listener,” he offered nonchalantly, a gentle smile on his lips.

You were not doing this, right? You wouldn’t just load that on a complete stranger? Then again, he was a complete stranger, so he couldn’t tell anyone who knew you. Mmm...

“…it’s not like that. I mean, yeah, he’s… handsome, but-- he’s… I barely know him, but he’s just really nice, you know? Like…” You licked your lips, finally letting the handbag rest on its usual place. “The kind of guy who would help you to pick up your stuff, even if he wasn’t be the one who ran into you. And the other day, I saw his telling a joke to someone who seemed down, but usually is a bitch to him. He’s the guy who would hold the elevator for you. Just… really nice. And lately… he seemed down himself. Not even his friend can cheer him up. So… yeah.”

“So… you decided to… cook something for him. For this… nice guy,” he summed up your monologue, looking a bit confused.

“Yeah. My friend met me at the bar and gave up her secret recipe for the best muffins in the world. I already bought the ingredients, guessing, but I didn’t pick up on the vanilla beans.”¨

“That’s really nice of you.”

“Well, it’s not like I’m saving his life,” you said, giving him a significant look.

Why were you smiling? You just almost got mugged! And you were chatting with a man who just broke someone’s bones! To be fair, he was really likeable. Had called you fun and nice. Not something you were used to.

“He could be depressed. So maybe you are.”

You couldn’t but smile wider. “Maybe. Though he probably gets bagels every morning… never mind. …And you know what, you are a good listener. But I should go. Got work to do.”

“Sure. Good luck with your… baking,” he wished you, grinning like a goddamn child. Was it really so amusing?

“If I have some spares, I’ll leave them on the rooftop for you,” you decided, freezing after you realized what you said. “A random rooftop! I wouldn’t want a masked guy to know where I live.”

He laughed. He honest to god laughed. “Of course. Go, I’ll call the police to pick those guys up.”

You didn’t need to be asked twice.

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

You barely managed to sneak into the interns’ office – office? More like a closet – and make it out before they appeared behind a corner. These two guys started there recently, but you instantly liked them. The one with blond hair was smiling most of the time, a cheery smile that made you smile back even when you were busy and nearly harassed by your boss a minute before; the other one, the dark-haired one, had a gentler smile, a warming one – and you hadn’t seen much of it lately. If you were honest, you thought his idealism was being crushed; he was incredibly nice and polite to everyone as far as you saw him interact with people and you were sure that a firm like Landman and Zack wasn’t a place for his fragile soul-- and now you were just projecting.

The pair fell into their closet office and you released the breath you were holding. You resisted the urge to listen in with your ear at the door. It turned out, you didn’t have to; most of the offices were empty due to the lunch break and the blond man – okay, yeah, you heard him introduce himself as Foggy, which was ridiculous, but kinda cute – was very loud.

“Matt, a muffin.”

You bit your lip, a little nervous about not hearing Matt’s reaction.

“Matt, I swear to God, there is a muffin on your table. With a note on a toothpick in it and it says— oh. That’s just mean. Why would someone give a muffin on your desk only to tempt you?” Foggy sounded bewildered and a little hurt on the behalf of his friend.

You giggled into your palm. You had left a written note saying: ‘Don’t you dare to touch it, you, who are reading this.’

The trick was in leaving one more note – in braille. ‘Feel better and be happy. The offices are too dark without your smile. Enjoy.’

Which was an idiotic lie, because the offices were all glass and steel, having too much light most of the time, but the message was clear, you hoped. Not to mention Matt wouldn’t be able to tell. Because he was… well, blind. Which meant he couldn’t read the note not directed at him, but could read his own.

You sneaked from your office, coming a little closer, listening in.

“Dude, your face. Why do I have the feeling the braille version says something different?”

You smiled for yourself, hoping to cause at least a little rise of Matt’s lips while he was reading his personal note (it was a bitch to use the braille printer without no one noticing, okay, you were kinda proud of yourself). His response was quieter, but you pricked your ears and heard it.

“Because it does.”

Later, you were trying hard not to stare too blatantly when they passed your office, but you caught a glimpse anyway. Matt was smiling. Brightly.

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

“This is so stupid, I’m crazy, I’m the craziest person to ever walk this Earth…” you were muttering as you laid a plate with two muffins in the middle of the rooftop. “If anyone’s gonna eat it, it’s gonna be Frank from 2B when coming to have a smoke. Or pigeons…”

“Did the nice guy liked his muffin?” sounded a voice from behind you and you jumped ten feet above— well, not. You literally fell on your ass, yelping in shock, your hand trying to keep your heart inside your ribcage. “Hey, easy there.”

You spun slowly to the source of the pleasant male voice, only to find a man dressed in nothing but black. With a mask on, naturally.

“Not sure. Maybe I just helped him to have a heart attack sooner. But I can ask him if he’s looking for one and refer him to you,” you complained, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, easing your hand down.

Jesus.

“I apologize. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He offered you a gloved hand to help you up. But it was a warm night and forgetting the fact your pants would be no doubt terribly dirty from the concrete, you were actually fine sitting there. You patted on the other side of the plate instead. He hesitated.

“For some reason I don’t believe you,” you exclaimed darkly. “I’m not sure you deserve these…”

“They’re really for me?”

A shy smile appeared on his lips – you really needed to stop focusing on people’s lips, it was creepy, but to be fair, this guy wasn’t offering many things to go on and staring at his body tightly wrapped in black probably wasn’t much better. He lowered himself elegantly, sitting down on the offered place.

“I figured that you might appreciate it and you’ll burn the calories easily. And since I baked six of these…”

“Thanks.” He tentatively took off his gloves, reaching for one of the muffins. He took a bite.

You blinked in surprise at his trust. “They could be poisoned.”

He froze. “You wouldn’t.”

“How can you possibly know that?”

“No one who bakes a muffin just to cheer up a guy they barely know would try to poison me,” he reasoned, his confidence almost unshaken.

“I could have just made the story up. Or bake two batches, poison one of them and lay a trap.”

He frowned, taking another bite easily. “That sounds like an awfully lot of work, considering pigeons might have eaten this. Or Frank from 2B.”

“You— you heard that?” you asked, surprised.

“I have good ears. And taste buds. This is really good.”

“I’m glad. Maybe one day I can quit my soul-crushing job, steal all of my friend’s recipes and open a bakery. The Hell’s Bakery… in Hell’s Kitchen.”

He chuckled, the sound so light that it made you wonder how the hell this guy was a vigilante. Should he be like… dark and broody? I am batman, I’m the night?

“I would be a regular. I promise.”

You couldn’t help but smile as he finished the muffin and licked his thumb.

“He’s a lucky guy, you know. Having you to look out for him,” he offered casually.

“I told you, it’s not like that…” you repeated, though you were less and less convinced it was the truth. “…and he doesn’t know it was me.”

“You didn’t give it to him?” he sounded shocked. You thought he might have raised his eyebrows. “Just leaving it? Why?”

You shrugged. “I didn’t want him to feel… obligated to be grateful or something. Plus, me noticing he’s smiling less than usual? It’s a little creepy, I imagine. It’s better if I stay anonymous.”

“Huh. You really weren’t trying to… get his attention, were you?” He seemed genuinely surprised. Was it really that strange? “Why? Not your type? Have eyes on someone else?”

“Not my type…” you repeated lowly. “I think he’s everybody’s type.” He tilted his head curiously. “I don’t.”

“But?”

“But nothing. He’s… he’s him. I bet he has someone. He has this whole…” you gestured vaguely with your hands as if it could mean something. It did. To you. “…charming, take-me-home aura.”

“Take-me-home aura?” he parroted, bewildered.

“It’s hard to-“ you stopped in the middle of the sentence, realizing the absurdity of the situation. Muffins. Late night. Dim lights. Boy problems. “Oh god, I’m having a slumber party with a vigilante on a rooftop. I really am crazy.”

“Do you want to braid hair?” he suggested with that boyish grin you remembered from yesterday. “I’m no good at painting nails, but I rock at braiding.”

You looked at him incredulously, watching him for what could be a minute. Then you burst out laughing.

“I believe you. But I’m afraid I’ll have to decline. I’m very picky about who I let touch my hair.”

“Uh-huh Okay. What does take-me-home aura mean? Take home and..?”

“And snuggle him…” you hummed, thoughtful. “Or rip his clothes off, sometimes it’s hard to decide. Probably both in the right order.”

“Oh.”

You burst out laughing once more when seeing him so taken aback. Well, you thought he looked taken aback.

“Oh god, you look so spooked. I’m not gonna do that to you, or him. Have a muffin.”

He pouted, but relaxed and reached for his comfort food. “I’m not… spooked. It’s just… why don’t you?”

“Because I’m pretty sure dragging someone into my home and ripping their clothes off is a crime,” you emphasized, even though the irony was lost on this guy, since he was acting outside the law. Matt, on the other hand… was a lawyer.

“You could just ask him out.”

The smile froze on your lips. You cleared your throat. “Yeah, right. I forgot you don’t know me very well and you don’t know whom I’m talking about. He’s… like… waaaay out of my league. Professionally speaking – one day, I’m sure – and with his looks too.”

He nibbled his muffin, looking thoughtful. It was incredibly cute. “You said he was nice. I’m sure he wouldn’t turn you down.”

“A pity date. Yay for me.”

“…you don’t have very high opinion of yourself, do you?”

You shrugged. “I’m a realist.”

He set his muffin down, turning to you with his whole body. “I don’t have many references to your looks, since we’re meeting at night, but you seem like a great person and… I really don’t talk with people much. Not at all, if I can help it. But you’re easy to talk too. Even if it was a pity date, I’m sure he would have a good time. And maybe you would find out he’s just a guy and forget there are some… leagues or whatever,” he mimicked, sounding a little disgusted. He picked his muffin back, possibly to drown the bitterness of the word league.

Oh my god, how was this guy even real? There was no way he was not chatting with all victims of crime he saved.

“Thanks— what do I call you? Give me something. I don’t expect your real name, secret identities and all, but… something.”

“Huh. I don’t know. Uhm…”

“If you don’t come up with something, I will,” you threatened, your mind racing. He would either have a terrible name, compensating with a nickname, or a plain name no one would look twice at.

“Go for it,” he challenged, licking the remains of chocolate of his lips. You observed him for a minute, wondering.

“Mm. Alright. Thank you for your encouraging words… Clark.”

“Clark? Like… Clark Kent?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, grinning. “Hero. Secret identity. Ripped. Sweet. Yeah, you’re Clark… you’re not wearing glasses to work, are you? Are you trying to look awkward, or better yet invisible? Unnoticed? Are you a journalist?” you asked quickly to cover up the fact you blatantly told him he had hot body.

“I’m not a journalist,” he said slowly, looking a bit alarmed. Though he didn’t deny the rest.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop prying. But thanks. It’s… really sweet of you, but… I guess I’m too chicken to ask him out.”

The sentence lied heavily between you for few moments.

“…what if he asked you?”

You snorted. “Right. He doesn’t even know I exist, Clark. Doesn’t know my name.”

“Neither do I. And look at us, sitting on a rooftop, talking about boys.”

This time you laughed. “You just wriggled your eyebrows, didn’t you?”

“Maybe…” he played along mysteriously, before his smile softened. “Can I have your name?”

“Well, I guess there’s no point in denying you now know where I live, so a name wouldn’t add much. But you know what? I picked yours. Pick mine.”

“…okay. Nice to meet you… Lois.” He extended his hand towards you, making your breath hitch.

“Nice to meet you, Clark.” You shook his hand, swallowing the nervousness his choice left you in. The love interest? “Though I’m more of a Jimmy Olsen, don’t you think?” The friend.

He tensed, jerking to his feet, crouching, his head tilted. You almost had another heart attack at the sudden movement.

“I gotta go, I’m sorry. There’s… an assault a mugging in progress. But-“ he turned to you, his tense features softening a little, leaning into your space. “I chose the name on purpose.”

Then his freaking lips brushed your temple and he jogged away, jumping-- jumping off the roof. You flied to your feet as well, running after him, checking he wasn’t a bloody smudge on the pavement. He wasn’t. You saw only a shadow several rooftops over. You brought you hand to the place his lips touched your skin, still shocked.

What the actual hell?

You stood on the rooftop for a very long time, staring at the city lights, still trying to process that Clark had… pecked your temple. When you finally made it inside, you couldn’t fall asleep. After an hour of staring into the ceiling, you got up and… baked. Not wanting to bake the same stuff again, you improvised. You added cocoa powder, switched milk chocolate for dark and added some cherries you had bought the other day, hoping for an acceptable outcome.

When you had one of the muffins for breakfast, you came to conclusion it wasn’t half bad, packing one for lunch, counting on a zero lunch-break again. It turned out it was a good idea.

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

Part 2

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

I know there aren’t many Matt readers with me here, but someone might like it ;)

Thank you for reading :-* 

[alex-ruins-everything]

Turning Pages - Chapter 1

Intrulogical bookshop au! Read whole thing on ao3 here

Logan Berry had a normal, content, average life. He was happy working at the bookshop that he simply loved, all until the brash and loud brother of one of his coworker's boyfriend's entered the picture. Then he found his quite perfect life interrupted by something he had never experienced before - fun. Remus Kingsley was getting him to branch out, and not looking too bad while doing it. 

Logan Berry had a normal, content, average life. He had good grades, a solid sleep schedule, an average amount of social interaction, and a job that he adored. He worked at a bookshop, the same bookshop he had spent most of his childhood in since most preteens were not fans of their intellectually superior peers. Though at the bookshop he could put all of that aside and immerse himself in knowledge - and on the rare occasion, some fantasy. In all fairness it didn’t take long for the bookshop owner, Mr. Sanders, to start recognizing the young boy that was always sitting in the armchairs by the windows. It didn’t take much more time after that for him to start to take Logan under his wing, showing him how the bookshop runs and on Logan’s 16th birthday, offering him a job that was happily accepted. Logan had always been an enthusiastic learner and that directly translated into his work. When Mr. Sanders’ attention got pulled away from the shop, Logan happily picked up the slack.

He was not a fan of summer break, finding the halt in his education to be cumbersome, but he did enjoy having more time to spend at the shop. It was 7am sharp when he unlocked the door, the familiar bell tingling to indicate entry as he flipped on the light switches, immediately soaking in the smell of the books with a smile to himself. Now to begin on the opening checklist he knew so well. Step one, lock the door to avoid any early customers. Check. Step two, count the money and open the register up. Check. Step three, check displays and ensure that bookmarks are orderly and the magazines are sitting neat. Check. Step four, go through aisles and ensure that books are neatly lined up and in alphabetical order. This step takes a while so it is vital to keep an eye on the time so that at precisely 8am the door can be unlocked again. Logan does his job thoroughly until he checks this one off as well, standing behind the register to organize the pens and highlighters, ensuring there is receipt tape in the printer. At 7:58 he pulls his apron on over his head, unlocking the door with a soft click of the lock, straightening a display of books as he passed by.

It was not unusual for Logan’s coworker to be late to his morning shift. Patton Hart seemed to always arrive at 8am dull rather than sharp, but he always made up for it in some way so it was quite hard to get mad at him. Today, for example, he skipped in at nearly 8:15, but he was holding two cups of coffee and a pastry bag.

“Sorry I’m late!” Patton apologized, reading the side of one of the cups before handing it to Logan. “Remy was extra chatty at the coffee shop today...but here you go! Large black coffee and a blueberry muffin.”

Logan thanked the other, taking the coffee and sipping at it. He had already had a cup before leaving home but it wouldn’t hurt to have another. He had already eaten breakfast so he tucked the muffin under the counter for later. Patton went into a small room behind the counter to set his belongings down and clock in, returning in his apron and a smile.

“I need to know what book you plan on reading for the kids on Saturday so a display can be set up,” Logan stated, looking over the short list of events the shop had planned. Patton hosted book readings for young children every once in a while and it was always a hit, bringing in lots of revenue for the shop. Another reason he could get away with being late.

“Oh! I was thinking If You Give a Mouse a Cookie,” he replied. “We just got a shipment in of those, right? I thought it might work out nicely especially since I did the Pigeon books last time.”

“Excellent,” Logan nodded, approving the idea by penciling it onto the schedule next to the time slot for Patton’s Reading Circle.

It wasn’t a very busy day, but it went by seemingly quickly with lots to do. Logan sat in the office for a good two hours, filling out orders for the shipment they would receive on Wednesday, making sure to get any special requests customers had ordered. When that was done he went about reorganizing the science section, making room for a new book that would be gracing the shelves and placing a space-holder in the meantime. Patton had been fluffing up the pillows on the cushiony chairs set around the store and dusting off shelves and cleaning the windows down. When a customer came in one of them would help them find what they wanted then ring them up, that bell by the door always chiming to alert them. The peaceful and known routine was part of what made Logan happy. Around noon he excused himself to the back to eat the muffin Patton had brought this morning, letting the other know that his break was scheduled in about an hour when their third coworker arrived.

When it came to Virgil Storm it was always a toss up. He was either early or late, never on time. Today however he chose to be early, walking in fifteen minutes before one, nodding a hello to both Logan and Patton as he headed to the back, sipping on an iced coffee with a tired expression. He came back out with his apron on, the cord of his headphones hanging out of his pocket a little bit as he started his usual rounds around the store. Aside from Logan, Virgil was definitely the most detail oriented.

Logan excused Patton for his break, perching on a stool behind the register and pulling out a large binder to work on some scheduling for the next few weeks. Always better to get things done in advance, of course. The bell rang and Logan looked up to greet the customer but saw it was just Roman, Virgil’s boyfriend.

“Hello, Roman,” he nodded, getting a greeting back before Roman was off to find Virgil.

Logan had never seen Roman actually read a book, but he did buy them every so often, mostly ones about theater or anything that had a dragon on the cover. He was just charming enough to have won over Mr. Sanders on the few times they had crossed paths in the shop, but really he only served as a distraction. Today wasn’t busy so Logan let him stay for a little while before leaving his post at the register to check on how he was interfering with Virgil today.

“Roman, if you shadow Virgil any longer I’m going to hand you an apron and consider it your training,” he warned lightly.

“Okay, okay,” Roman started. “He’s just showing me some new fantasy stuff, I promise I’ll be a paying customer this time.”

Logan decided to believe him, returning to his post at the register and continuing to pencil names onto a schedule, trying to work around the names to fit something that was fair for everyone. Then of course he would send it to Mr. Sanders for approval before posting it on the bulletin board in the room behind the counter. The bell rang again and Logan looked up to greet a customer or say hello to Patton who surely was due back from his break soon but was instead met with the most interesting person he had ever laid eyes on.

This man was all broad shoulders and wild hair, a streak of white gracing the front of his curls and a mustache that was twirled at the ends in ways Logan thought only the men in Victorian romance novels sported. He was somewhat dressed for the warm weather outside in a mossy green tank top that hung obscenely off his body, showing off an octopus tattoo on his left shoulder with the tentacles creeping down his upper arm, and black jeans that were more rips than pants. His eyes scanned around the bookshop, landing on Logan for a second too long to be played of as a passing glance.

“Roman! If you don’t quit making out with Virgil against a bookshelf I’m gonna leave your ass here,” the man said just a little too loudly for proper bookshop etiquette.

“Hey, shuddup,” Roman said, emerging from the shelves with a book in his hand. “Remus, I thought you were shopping down the street.”

“I was, then I got bored. Hey, this place is weird. I don’t think I’ve ever been in here,” the man - Remus - said, picking up one of the display books and flipping it open, only to put it back down in a way that wasn’t remotely how he had found it. “C’mon, I wanna swing by the park and chase the geese before we head home. Hurry up.”

Logan found that he had been watching the interaction, his scheduling forgotten as Roman came and set his selection on the counter, Remus following behind him and messing up the neat displays of knick-knacks on the counter.

“Told you I’d buy a book,” Roman said with a grin. “Oh, this is my brother by the way. Sorry he’s loud.”

Remus flicked Roman on the back of the head. “Am not. This place is just super quiet,” his eyes trailed over Logan in a way that was enough to make him feel like he was being dissected. “Nice to meet you, Specs.”

“And you as well,” Logan said, ringing up Roman’s book and sliding it into a paper bag, cuing him up to pay. Though with how brash this man was he wasn’t sure if that was an entirely true statement. “Roman, you’re good to go. Have a nice day.”

Logan watched the two brother’s leave, sighing lightly as he closed the scheduling binder and sticking it back under the counter. Patton came back with a happy wave and a box of donuts that he set in the back for them all to pick at when they wished. He let Patton watch the register, moving to clean up the damage that Remus had left behind to his strictly ordered displays. Well, hopefully that wouldn’t be a continuous issue. Remus seemed like he read books even less than Roman, though Logan couldn’t deny there was something illogically intriguing about how unrestrained Remus had been.

[ceilingfan5]

do you ever watch kitten videos and have to cry your face off about how small they are

Taako hasn’t been doing too hot, and he hasn’t hidden it well, either. He’s been nasty and snappish and prickly, and Kravitz has suffered him so sweetly he feels awful about it. It’s not even just one thing that’s bothering him--the world just feels like it’s about to crash down around his ears, and all he wants to do is get in bed and hide. 

He didn’t think Kravitz noticed how bad it was. He especially didn’t expect what Kravitz decided to do about it. 

Kravitz brings home foster kittens. 

Taako is sitting on the counter eating cold ravioli with a spoon when Kravitz gets home. He closes the door with his foot, making a loud sound, and Taako cranes his neck to see him. 

“Hey, Taako, I’m home,” he says, warm excitement in his voice. “I have a surprise.”

“Is it dinner?” Taako says through a mouthful of raviolis. “Cause that ship done sailed.”

“No, no,” Kravitz says. “I hope you don’t eat them.”

“Then what?” Taako kicks his feet a little, annoyed, but not wanting to get up. He puts his plate down next to him, poptart crumbs crunching under it. Maybe it’s been a bit since he cleaned up in here. 

Kravitz comes into the kitchen holding a cat carrier. Taako’s eyebrows go up. 

“Dunno if Garyl and Beans are gonna like you bringing home a stray.”

“Not strays. Foster kittens.” Kravitz is beaming, full of sunshine, hard to look directly at. Taako blinks.

“Foster kittens.”

“Foster kittens. And you get to name them.”

Taako hops down and circles the carrier slowly. Kravitz takes his hand and takes him to their laundry room, which Taako also hasn’t exactly used recently. To his surprise, it’s been decked out in blankets, with a great big crate and water and a new litter box, not to mention a few more bags from the pet store hanging out on the washing machine. Kravitz closes the door behind them and sets down the carrier. Taako squats to see, and Kravitz unzips the babies. 

There are three of them, tiny and bumping and squeaky, still so young, so small, with tiny little triangle tails and velvet ears. Taako reaches out and one instantly climbs him, tiny pinprick claws hooking into his pajama shirt as the teeny bean sets out on a grand expedition. 

“They’re so fucking small,” Taako whispers, surpsied to find himself in tears. “Fuck, look at them. I could eat them in one bite.”

Kravitz laughs softly, leaning against the dryer.

“They’re just starting to wean off of the bottle, but the guy said we should have a few more days of bottle feeding.”

“Bottle feeding?” Taako can’t take it. He sits hard on the tile, staring at the tiny little guy climbing him like an office manager working his way up to Everest. “Holy fuck. Kraav. Krav, I can’t- They’re babies, I can’t do this, Krav, holy shit, they’re so small?” His voice cracks. The other two find him and begin the climb too, and they’re a perfect set: one black, one grey, one white, like a printer running out of ink. Taako laughs, and hiccups, and cries. 

“They’re gonna need a lot of help,” Kravitz says, still so soft. “You think you’re up to helping me take care of them?”

“Yeah, fuckin- fucking obviously-” Taako sniffles. His head hurts. Despite being pretty damn miserable for some time now, it’s been a while since he let himself cry, and it’s so cathartic he wants to get mad at Kravitz for knowing him so well. He pets one of the little kittens on his walnut of a noggin and sobs when he gets a squeaky little mew in reply. “Fuck,” he says. “I’m- Krav, you, I can’t believe you...” 

Kravitz smiles and offers him a tissue, which he had ready, because of course he did. Taako blows his nose so loud it honks, which startles all of the kittens clinging to him for dear life.

“Oh, babies...” he whispers. “Fuck, am I ready to be a dad?”

“It’s just fostering. So if it doesn’t seem like it’s for you, then it doesn’t have to be. But I think you’ll like it. You already care so much about Garyl and Beans.” 

“Fuck, shit. What are we gonna call ‘em?” Taako lifts the kittens into his lap and wipes his face into his elbow. He’s a mess. It’s a disgrace, but fuck it.

“You can pick, but I’ve always liked Beelzebub.”

“So this one’s Beelzebub, lord of the flies, and maybe, uh, maybe...Concrete, for this one, and then the white one can be Jessica.”

Kravitz laughs and nods. 

“Perfect. Do you want to help me feed them?”

“Kravitz!” Taako bursts into tears again. It’s embarrassing. This is so against his brand. At least they’re in the complete privacy of their washroom and the kittens are too baby to remember his breakdown. “I- Yes!” 

And so it begins. It’s hard, and Garyl and Beans are jealous, but everybody notices Taako’s mood improve dramatically, and even if he never articulates quite how bad he was doing or even why, he’s secretly very, very happy that Kravitz knows him and loves him so much that he understood this would help. 

He’s so lucky. He’s so fucking lucky. Just because things aren’t okay doesn’t mean there’s nothing in life worth living for.

[advena87]

Aiden & Lambert’s love story because we deserve more than one and we didn't get any (at least not in canon). Long Post!

check out also Kaer Morhen Shenanigans

Here is: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8 and Daily Lambert

also Keira & Lambert’s love story and… this.

I love playing with incorrect quotes. The ones below are already used a few times in Kaer Morhen shenanigans, but I modified and changed them, and added a lot of new ones.

So the idea is that young witchers from the griffin and cat schools come to Kaer Morhen - including Coen and Aiden. The purpose of the visit is for aspiring witchers to learn something from each other, and in fact it’s just an excuse to play with the idea of Lambert x Aiden. Of course, Lambert’s witcher brothers will try to help him with his crush, and they will not miss the opportunity to make fun of him.

The setting is like this because the idea that Geralt, Eskel and Berengar will be Lambert's wingmen is simply priceless. I know that this configuration had no right to happen in the canon, but the canon has hurt us more than once. That's why we always have to fix everything. And that's why Berengar appears in my posts. In my opinion he deserved it and you can't change my mind. And I think he and Lambert have so much in common that it's really a shame they never met in games. I think that they would have a beautiful dynamics of the oldest and youngest brother.

Anyway I hope you enjoy it! :)

.

Aiden: Hi, I am-

Lambert, shaking his hand: Handsome.

Aiden: -Aiden. And you are?

Lambert: Apparently not as straight as I thought I was.

***

Lambert: Can I ask a dumb question?

Berengar: Better than anyone I know.

Lambert: Is it gay to think about your best mate in the shower?

Berengar: …

Geralt: …

Eskel: …

Lambert: Asking for a friend.

Berengar: …

Geralt: …

Eskel: …

Lambert: But now seriously: I’m not gay if I wanna date Aiden as like bros, right?

Geralt: I’m no expert but that does sound kinda gay.

Berengar: I’m an expert. That’s gay.

***

Lambert: I swing both ways.

Lambert: Violently. With a sword.

Lambert: Also, I’m bisexual.

Lambert: … promise you won’t tell anyone?

Berengar: Your secret is safe with me. I wasn’t even listening.

*later*

Eskel: The printer messed up the invitations. It was supposed to say “Lambert’ birthday”.

Geralt: What does it say instead?

Eskel: “Lambert’ bi”

Berengar: Well that could still work.

Geralt: Wait, what? No, Lambert is straight.

Berengar: Trust me, he isn’t. The only straight thing he is gonna do is that he is gonna go straight to hell.

Eskel: Wait, Berengar, isn’t this thing between Lambert and Aiden supposed to be a secret?

Berengar: Hardly. The only people who don’t know Lambert loves Aiden are Lambert and Aiden. And Geralt for some reason.

***

Eskel: You and Aiden seem very close.

Lambert: We're just friends.

Berengar: Oh please, we all know you're a heartbeat away from getting his name tattooed on your ass.

***

Lambert: You look nice, I want to kiss you.

Aiden: WHAT

Lambert: I SAID IF YOU DIED I WOULDN’T MISS YOU

Berengar, behind Lambert's back, mouthing to Aiden: LIES

***

*Aiden and Coen talking and laughing*

Lambert: *staring at them silently*

Eskel: You’re really quiet today, Lambert.

Lambert: Nobody plans a murder out loud.

***

Lambert: Why does this griffin dude keep talking to you?

Aiden: Lambert, we are friends.

Lambert: I know you two are friends but…

Aiden, deadpan: No, Lambert, I meant you and I are friends.

Lambert: Yeah, we’re friends, but I’d fuck you if you asked.

Aiden: What?

Lambert: What?

Berengar, eating popcorn: He said he’d fuck you if you asked.

***

Lambert: Fuck, Aiden, you look like hell!

Aiden: Yeah? I just got back.

Lambert: Dude, who hurt you?

Aiden: Do you want a list or something?

Lambert:

Lambert: *grabs sword* Actually, yes.

Aiden: No, wait, we can’t solve all our problems with murder.

Lambert: How about just this problem?

***

Lambert: I think I might have a crush on Aiden…

Berengar: Congratulations, you’re officially the last one to know.

Geralt: Aiden would never date a jerk like you.

Lambert: Fuck you, shouldn’t I be one of your best friends?

Gerelt: Yeah, which is how I know you’re a jerk.

Eskel: So what are you going to do?

Lambert: I don’t know, something dramatic I hope.

Berengar: Oh for fuck’s sake, just ask Aiden out! What’s the worst that could happen?

Lambert: Humiliation, embarrassment, fire, explosions, collisions, tears, nudity and death.

***

Aiden: Can you ride?

Lambert: *looks at Aiden up and down* Yes.

Aiden: I meant the horse, Lambert.

***

Lambert: How do I politely ask him to slam me against a wall and make out with me?

Geralt: Lambert, it’s four in the morning, if you want to make out with Aiden just do it quietly, I don’t care how you ask him!

*next day*

Aiden: *hands Lambert a water bottle*

Lambert: *drinking it* Thanks, what’s it for?

Aiden: Geralt says you get thirsty around me.

Lambert: *chokes on water*

***

Lambert, smirking: So when are you gonna go out with me?

Aiden, smiling back: I don’t know, when are you gonna ask me out?

Lambert, freaking out: uhhh....

*later that day*

Berengar: So you ran away like a fucking coward?

Lambert: I DIDNT EXPECT HIM TO FLIRT BACK!!

***

Eskel: Why are you ignoring Aiden?

Lambert: I’m playing hard to get.

Geralt: Why would you do that? You’re already hard to want.

***

Eskel: I shouldn’t be interfering in this but give him a chance. Lambert would throw himself in front of a speeding horse for you.

Aiden: Lambert would throw himself in front of a speeding horse for fun.

Eskel: Ok, point taken, but don’t worry, he grows on you.

Aiden: Oh, really?

Eskel:

Eskel: No, actually, he just gets worse.

***

Aiden: I’m having problems with Lambert.

Geralt: Problems like ‘his dead body won’t fit in your cupboard’ or problems like ‘you like him’?

Aiden: ...

Aiden: Problems like ‘I like him’.

Geralt: Too bad, I could have helped with the other one.

***

Aiden: I have 4 friends.

Eskel: But there are 5 of us. Me, Geralt, Berengar, Lambert and Coen.

Aiden: Lambert is my special idiot.

Aiden: That’s different.

***

Aiden: Lambert, look me in the eyes and be straight with me.

Lambert: So… Do I look at you? Or do I be straight? I can’t do both.

***

Lambert: I’m in love with you.

Aiden: That’s… a terrible idea.

Lambert: Yeah, I have a lot of those.

Aiden: ...

Aiden: Well then, let's try.

Lambert: Wait, does that mean you like me? For my personality?

Aiden: I know, I was surprised too.

***

Lambert and Aiden: *walk into the room together with happiness written on their faces*

Berengar: So who finally confessed?

Lambert: It was me, I made sure it was short and sweet.

Aiden: You yelled, “Listen here, you little shit, I have feelings for you and it’s about time you acknowledged them!” from the castle tower.

Lambert: It worked though.

Aiden: All in all, this may come as a surprise to you, but Lambert and I are dating now.

Geralt: Damn. Now I owe Eskel 20 crowns. You guys couldn’t have waited another week?

Lambert: Wait, what?

Eskel: You two just earned me 20 crowns is what, so thank you.

***

Aiden: When you're gay in your house with nobody else, you're homolone.

Lambert: When you're bi and there's nobody else around, you're biyourself.

Berengar: You're two morons.

***

Coen: So, you've already made friends with Eskel, Geralt and Berengar?

Aiden: Yeah.

Coen: Great, just a little advice - stay away from Lambert.

Aiden: ...

Aiden: Lambert is my boyfriend.

Coen: Oh...

Coen: Um...

Coen: So, what's he like?

Aiden: Have you ever met a human version of a headache?

***

Coen, pointing at Lambert: Is this guy bothering you?

Aiden: Yeah, but he’s my boyfriend, I signed up for this

***

Aiden: You’re annoying.

Lambert: But you love me >:3

Aiden: Doesn’t make you any less annoying.

***

Lambert: *spills water on his shirt* Oh, what have I done? Now my shirt is all see-through.

Geralt: *rolls his eyes* And so are you. I know what you’re doing.

AIden: So do I, but I am enjoying the show immensely.

***

Lambert: Did it hurt?

Aiden, rolling his eyes: When I fell from heaven?

Lambert: No.

Lambert: When you fell for me.

Aiden: ...

Aiden: Actually, yes. It’s hurts every day.

Berengar, from distance: BUUURN!

***

Coen: It’s so exhausting having a boyfriend! You’re lucky you don’t have one.

AIden: Actually, last time I checked I did have a boyfriend.

Coen: No, you have a Lambert. That’s not the same thing.

Aiden: What do you mean?

Coen: Well, he’s more like a puppy. Excitable, loud, always happy to see you, protective, and he bites anyone who threatens you.

Aiden: …

Aiden: Point taken.

***

Aiden: YOU’RE SO ANNOYING! I CANT BELIEVE IM DATING YOU!

Lambert: ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! YOURE THE ONE WHO CHEATED!

Aiden: Because YOU cheated FIRST!

Lambert: YOU STUPID-

Eskel: I think we’re done playing gwent for tonight….

Geralt: Wait, no. I’m enjoying this.

Aiden: Don't you call me stupid!

Lambert: Okay, then how about 'bitch'?!

Aiden: Arrogant dick!

Lambert: Spoiled asshole!

Aiden: Fuck you!

Lambert: Fuck YOU!

Aiden: FUCK YOU!!!

Lambert: FUCK!!! YOU!!!

Aiden: ...

Aiden: My room, ten minutes.

Geralt: Okey... not what I expected.

Eskel: And we're done here.

***

Lambert: I have an idea, but I’m going to need your permission.

Aiden: Sudenly you need my permission? Why?

Lambert: Cause if I mess it up, I don’t want it to be just my fault.

Aiden: That sounds like a really risky and gay plan.

Lambert: So? You in?

Aiden: I thought it was an obvious answer.  

***

Aiden: I want to hear those three little words.

Lamber: I love you.

Aiden: Try again.

Lambert: Fine.

Lambert: I will behave.

Aiden: :)

***

Aiden: Close your eyes and hold out your hand.

Lambert: I played this game once with my brothers and got slimed by a toad.

Aiden: It’s not a toad.

***

Lambert: I didn’t raise you to be like this.

Aiden: You’re my boyfriend. You didn’t raise me at all.

Lambert: And yet you still call me daddy.

Aiden: Oh for the love of-

***

Eskel: I sleep with a knife under my pillow.

Geralt: Weak. I sleep with a sword under mine.

Lambert: You’re both pathetic.

Berengar: What killer weapon do you sleep with then, Mr. Badass?

Lambert, proud and confident: Aiden.

***

Aiden: The food's too hot, I can't eat it.

Lambert: You're too hot and I still eat you.

Berengar: It's family moments like these that we will never forget.

Geralt: With a good therapist, hopefully I will.

Eskel: I'm not hungry anymore.

Vesemir: One dinner. ONE NORMAL DINNER!!

***

Lambert: *phone starts ringing*

Eskel: *looks at who is calling*

Eskle, laughs: So you call Vesemir 'daddy'?

Lambert: *answers call and makes direct eye contact with Eskel*

Lambert: Hey, Aiden.

Eskel: *chokes on drink*

***

Geralt: Okay Lambert, truth or dare?

Lambert: Truth.

Geralt, smirking: Why did you get kicked out of the brothel?

Lambert, looking absolutely horrified: Oh no…

Aiden, whipping his head around so fast Eskel almost shits himself: You fucking what?!

Lambert: Look, you can’t be mad at me! I was just there, minding my own business-

Aiden: We both know that’s a load of crap, Lambert, you’re lying!

Lambert: Does this look like the face of a liar?

Aiden: You really don’t want to hear my thoughts on your face right now.

Lambert: Ok, you know what? Fuck you!

Aiden: Later. Now listen here, you little shit-

Geralt, laughing: Living my best life.

Eskel: Oh my God, Geralt, what did you do, they’re going to kill each other.

Geralt: This isn’t about them.

Aiden, siting on Lambert and beating crap out from him: Really Lambert, I expected better from you!

Lambert, rolling them and pinning Aiden to the ground: Then that’s your own fault! I’m not responsible for your expectations!

Aiden: Bite me!

Lambert: Where?

Aiden: ...

Lambert: So you going to take a swing? Or you just going to staring into my eyes?

Aiden: Hmm, what was that? I was busy staring into your eyes...

Labert: Oh you beautiful bastard! Just punch me already!

*Berengar enters room*

Berengar: What the fuck is going on here? Are they fighting or making out?

Eskel: At this point, I honestly can't tell.

*later*

Lambert: Eskel, how do I get revenge on Geralt?

Eskel: The best revenge is letting go and living your life to the fullest.

Lambert: …

Lambert: Berengar, how do I -

Berengar: Brick.

***

Aiden: How do you usually get out of these messes?

Lambert: I don’t, I just make an even bigger one that cancels the first one out.

Aiden: That sounds like a terrible plan.

Lambert: Oh, I’ve had worse.

***

Aiden: I’m fucking an idiot.

Eskel: Isn’t that grammatically wrong? Shouldn’t it be “I’m a fucking idiot”?

Aiden: No, I’m fucking an idiot.

Eskel: ???

Aiden, sighing: Ok, watch out.

Aiden: Yo, Lambert, are you high?

Lambert: What?

Aiden: High!

Lambert: Hello!

Aiden to Eskel, pointing to Lambert: That’s the idiot.

***

*witchers face complications during the contract. Lambert is abducted for the ransom*

Lambert, offended: You think I’m only worth 10.000 crowns?!

Kidnappers: What?

Lambert: Give me that *takes the megaphone*

Lambert: Make it 1 billion and we can think about it.

Aiden, from outside: LAMBERT SHUT THE FUCK UP!

***

Lambert: Okay, okay, what if I microwave a spoon? Steal some bees? Oh, oh, let's try to fuse corn and apples!

Aiden: What the fuck?

Aiden: Lambert, I asked you how we should spend our anniversary, I clearly do not remember requesting for ways to disappoint your family.

Lambert: Sorry, force of habit.

***

Lambert, drunk at 1AM: *in pajamas and blasting ABBA in his room* Gimmie gimmie gimmie my man after midnight! Won’t somebody help me-

Geralt in the other room: Aiden is dead. Get over it and go to bed! There’s your help.

Lambert: [drunken sobs]

.

[peachyteabuck]

enemy of my enemy is my lover

summary: you planned on just going to a meeting with an adversary, hoping to gain more territory in the process. you left with something much, much better. 

pairing: mobster!bucky barnes x mobster!reader

words: 3,226

trigger warnings: smut (oral - f recieving and vaginal sex), mob dynamics

notes/other: this was inspired by ask received by @bucky-plums-barnes a long, long time ago about a mobster!bucky headcanon that describes the plot to this fic. while i could not find the exact ask (trust me, i tried), i credit the anonymous genius & gen heavily for inspiring this. thank you both!

ask box / masterlist / commission info / ko-fi

Each step you make is loud, sharp; the sound of heels clicking against the cold, cracked cement of New York City. It’s something, one of the things, that makes you powerful – sends this thick feeling of invulnerability through your veins, as if you’re some deity returning to her alter.

That feeling – one of untouchable power – has always been…sort of…hard for you to conjure. It’s not like you’re not not powerful in this world absent your fantasies. You run the second most powerful mob in the country! You’ve got a large pull in international trade! You’ve got major influence in congress and almost every state senate! You’ve got money, a smoking hot and super amazing boyfriend, and loyal coworkers. What else do you need?

Regardless of all that, roaming the streets at night never fails to send a special kind of shiver crawling across your skin. It’s a particular type of fear, one that makes you pull your steel grey coat closer to you as you roam the street, makes your hand cling tighter to the .45 in your deep, righthand pocket.

As you reach the alley where the deal you’re brokering is supposed to take place, your phone buzzes a few times in a row. You have an urge to check it, to make sure the man you love is okay, but letting your guard down now wouldn’t be wise. You’ve got to keep a keen mental sharpness about you to make sure no one kidnaps you (or worse) or fucks you over at your own deal, but still, the only person who would be texting you at this godforsaken hour is the man you left at home, and in this business you can never be too careful about the ones you care deeply about…

Your thoughts are interrupted (quite rudely, you might add), by the sound of a thick winter coat shuffling – as if someone were to be rolling their sleeves up. The noise of the fabric gets louder as the person – a man, you soon realize – steps closer. A man with sharp cheekbones and a dark beard and beautiful, pillowy lips.

His gaze, even under the dark baseball cap that lacks insignia, seems hauntingly familiar. You can’t place it, and it seems rude to ask if you’ve met before, given the circumstances. Still…something seems…recognizable about this mystery man.

You don’t realize it, though, until the man opens his mouth and asks about the new baby seal in the San Francisco zoo. It’s the right code, that’s not what throws you. Rather, it’s the gravely voice of the man you’ve been dating for years that stops you in your tracks.

“Bucky!?” you call out, completely confused and abandoning the correct coded response. “Why are you out here?”

Bucky, now meeting your eyes, seems just as bewildered as you are. “I, uh…I’m….what, what are you doing here?”

You have no idea how to respond, mind too baffled to form words. “Wh…what…”

You step closer, carefully – as if he was some rabid cat you found behind your apartment building. His beautiful baby blues are wide, eyes narrowed – you gasp when you get close enough to smell the cologne, his cologne, the exact scent you bought him for Christmas the year previous. “Are…are you…you’re…are you the White Wolf?”

Bucky visibly steps back at the mention of the street name – the street name of the guy who runs the mob that (similar to yours) is based in New York and works in black market goods. He tries to hide his shock, just in case what he thinks is happening definitely isn’t happening. In all honesty, Bucky can’t tell which one would be worse. “And, you’re uh. You’re…um…are you….are you She-Devil?”

If you were disoriented before, you have no word to describe how much your brain is short-circuiting at the thought that this man – the man you love, has secretly been running not only a mob, but a rival mob, this entire time.

“Do…wait,” you shake your head to try and collect your exceptionally scattered thoughts. “Are you the guy who wanted to negotiate territory with me?”

Bucky hesitates for a second, body tense and reluctant to say anything. You’re both still, not daring move a muscle and the both of you stare each other down. It feels like an eternity before he does anything, your surprise only growing as a massive, shit-eating grin spreads across his gorgeous, scruffy face.

It’s a look you know well, one you’ve come to both love and despise. It’s the same look he gave you when he told you he wanted to build (not pay someone else to build, build himself) a deck in a house you moved out of two months later, when he almost got a face tattoo, when he sold your house (you know, the one he wanted to build a deck for) to buy one three streets away. That’s the look he get when some grand idea that will probably turn out to be a disaster – the look that says “this may be a disaster, but the only way to see if it is will be to try it.”

In an instant, Bucky closes the gap between you and presses his lips to yours. As he arms wrap around you, you can feel him rub at the small of your back, just as he always does when he’s trying to keep you calm. “Yeah, babygirl. That’s me. I’m the White Wolf.”

You press your face in the warm embrace of his coat, muffling your speech. “But why didn’t you tell me?”

Bucky shrugs as he answers. “Didn’t want you to feel unsafe, I guess. Didn’t want you to worry about me.” He presses a kid to the top of your head. “Better question, why didn’t you tell me?”

You sigh, your small voice becoming even tinier. “I dunno…same reasons as you, I guess. Felt like I’d be dragging you into something you wouldn’t want to deal with.”

Bucky barks a laugh into the night, the sound reverberating off the tall buildings. “Seems reasonable.”

You pull away but refuse to make eye contact as tears well in your eyes and cloud your vision. For a mob leader, you’re very emotional. “Baby, are you sure? Like, are you sure this is okay? I mean, we kept this major part of our lives from each for literal years…like, does that say something about us as a couple? And we’re, like, rivals, we’re supposed to be competing against each other for money and goods and ports and clients and-“

Bucky cuts into your anxious ramblings by pulling you back into a tight bug. “Hey, hey! Baby, listen. This is a good thing! A great one, if you want it to be!”

You wipe at your nose with your hand. “Are you…what do you, are you sure? What do you mean?”

Bucky nods, eyes ablaze with excitement for the future. “Of course, baby, listen. Separate, our mobs are both powerful, right? We can agree on that. But together? With the territory, the influence, us...together, we could rule the fucking world.”

Technically, he isn’t wrong; with your strategy and Bucky’s brutal execution, your combined business could easily become the apex predator of the mob scene within the Western hemisphere. What Bucky had, you lacked, and vice versa. You’d studied his…business…for years (before you knew it was Bucky who ran the Pack, of course) as you climbed the ranks of your own mob. You know they have hands in several international black markets, have relationships with lots of lots of rich people who do lots and lots of bad things and pay lots and lots of money for those bad things.

Oh God, you’d never think being power-hungry and love drunk could feel so good. Your mind fogs over with all the things you could do if you had Bucky and his gang by your side, you could do anything. Simply by territory you’d be outgunning Hydra, let alone the combined wealth and human capital. You’ve never felt this exhilarated before in your life, the freezing night air electrifying your rib cage and-

Bucky and you grin madly. Wordlessly, you clasp hands and walk back to your shared apartment halfway across town. Both of you are silent until you’re safely inside your secured home. As you pull your hair up into a messy ponytail, Bucky began grabbing bowls for dinner.

“You know-” he said as he ladled soup out of the deep red Crock Pot. “Now that we aren’t desperately trying to hide our occupations from each other, we can move into a bigger house?’ Bucky says it like a question, but you know better.

Normally you’d tell him “no, of course we can’t do that, we can’t afford it.” But now that you both know that you’re each hiding hundreds of millions of dollars in offshore accounts, slush funds, and dummy corporations throughout the world…

“Sure,” you shrug. “Why not.”

Bucky grins like a child on Christmas. “If we’re gonna rule, we need the proper palace.”

You forego giving into Bucky’s terrible, awful joke to hang up your studded coat, to take off your business casual navy-blue pants and black button-up in, and change into a pair of workout shorts and some tie-dye hoodie you thrifted about ten years ago. Bucky calls them your “thinking clothes,” attire you wear specifically to center yourself, to clear your mind of everything except the task at hand.

During dinner, you and Bucky begin to plan how you can consolidate assets, personnel, jobs, and everything that comes with heading mobs. It’s a long talk, one that lasts long into the night and ends with hastily-drawn diagrams and maps strewn around your living room.

It takes hours and way too many pots of coffee, but eventually the plan for the merger is laid out in front of you – all the graphs and math and official language handwritten in your neat cursive (along with a few notes scrawled by Bucky) on over twenty sheets of pristine printer paper.

Bucky sighs happily when he sees it all finished. He’s standing, desperate for a bird’s eye view of the entire thing.

You, on the other hand, are much too tired to stand. You settle for, “How does it look, babe?” as you draw two lines for each of your signatures below both of your full names.

When you look up, you see Bucky – eyes twinkling with joy. “It looks…,” he sighs, happily. “Amazing. I love you so much.”

You giggle, drawing lines for a few witnesses (you’ll make a few of your associates sign tomorrow). “I love you, too, babe. Now, you still got that champagne from our visit to France?”

Somewhere between the front room and the wine fridge, Bucky had you pinned against the wall and was cupping your clothed pussy.

“While I think you look great,” Bucky murmurs against the hot skin of your neck. “You’re wearing just a little too much for me.”

In an instant he tears the skimpy shorts from your body, the sound of ripping fabric making you moan;

“Fuck,” you gasp as one digit, then another enters you. “Holy shit that feels good.”

Bucky pulls away enough to look you in the eyes, smiling as he watches your jaw slacken from the pleasure. “Yeah? You like that?”

If you could speak you would, but each word just comes out as a breathy moans. Your first orgasm hits you like a wave, Bucky pulling it from you with crooked fingers and his lips on yours.

When you come down Bucky carries you to the bed, undressing himself as you do the same.

He pulls you to the end of the bed by your ankles, pushing your legs up to your chest. He enters you easily – bottoming out within a few thrusts.

You and Bucky moan into each other’s mouths as he fucks into you.

“Oh God,” he groans, moving to kiss at your neck. “Holy shit!”

He rubs at your clit with the thumb of one hand as he bites bruises in your collarbones, desperate to hear the symphony of sweet sighs and deep moans as you near another peak.

“Come on baby,” Bucky murmurs into your lips. “Come on, cum around my cock for me.”

It doesn’t take much after that – a few more circles around your clit in time with his thrusts and soon you’re scream and nearly tears the sheets from how tight you’re gripping them and your whole body convulses from pleasure.

Bucky finishes himself onto your stomach, head thrown back in pleasure as he does so.

He takes a minute to collect himself, still panting as he grabs a tissue to clean you off.

After water and a snack (two granola bars you had stuffed into your bedside drawer an unknowable amount of months ago), you curl into Bucky’s chest, tracing the litany of tattoos there. “Weren’t we supposed to drink to celebrate?”

Bucky lets out a full belly laugh. “Probably. But the alcohol is all the way downstairs. Plus, I know something else I can drink to celebrate?”

You wrinkle your nose. “Only you? Why don’t I get to get drunk?”

Bucky just smirks, moving you off of him. You’re about to protest but begin to understand once he pushes the covers off the both you to make room for himself between your legs.

“Trust me,” he tells you, leaving kisses on your skin between every few words. “You’ll love this a lot more than any old champagne.”

And, of course, he was right.

The next day, you meet with your closest adversaries. While you two wait in the conference room in the building Bucky took over after it was condemned a couple years back, you can feel your heart ram into your ribcage. It’s less from anxiety and more from anticipation, knowing you might face major backlash from the people you trust the most.

The first to arrive is the woman you trust the most in this world: Natasha. She doesn’t move towards the table, simply stands just inside the doorway while staring you down. She doesn’t recognize Bucky, but doesn’t enjoy being below the eyeline of a man she’s never seen before.

“Natasha,” you say, desperate to remain calm. “This is Bucky. We’ve been together for five years. And he’s the leader of the Pack.”

In a fashion much atypical for Natasha Romanoff, her eyes widen slightly. “Oh…” she says after a long while. “Okay then.”

She promptly sits down with no further questions.

As with many business, heads and second-in-commands of mobs rarely come face to face. They have goons, messengers that do their footwork. Descriptions of the faces belonging those in charge pass around akin to rumors, only whispered quieter.

Which is why, when Steve comes in, he has no idea what to think until Bucky introduces you and Natasha.

By the time Bucky’s finished talking, Steve’s beat red. “Buck, what the fuck is this.”

“Just,” Bucky sighs, worried about his phrasing and angering his best friend on the face of the planet (whether that be Steve, for reasons that feel obvious, or you, for reasons that feel even more obvious). “Sit down. We’ll explain-“

“’We’ll!’” Steve nearly screams.

Bucky is the only one who flinches at the sudden loud noise. You finish his sentence for him. “Yes. Bucky and I will explain.”

Steve doesn’t like it, doesn’t like taking orders from a rival. Still, he sits at the large, oval conference table opposite Natasha.

The last two people to come in are the head of you and Bucky’s legal departments. Wanda gives you a single nod before sitting next to Natasha, a man Bucky addresses as “Tony” sits next to Steve.

You exhale deeply once the metaphorical dust settles, encouraging Bucky to begin the spiel he had prepared last night been orgasms four and five.

“Alright. We have,” he sighs. “We have decided to combine our two…”  Bucky struggles to find the right word. He worries for bugs and secret agents and misunderstandings, brain always struggling to remember that this is sacred, secret business. Any crack in any of the numerous protective facades could mean its downfall, along with the loss of billions of dollars and his life.

“Entrepreneurial endeavors,” you finish for him.

You hear Natasha snort, amused by the avoidance of saying gang and mob and illegal distributor of goods. The rest of your cohort are silent, unsure of what to say next.

Each beat of verbal inaction leaves you more fearful than the last, your heart getting louder and louder in your ears.

For what feels like forever, no one says anything.

Though, with the pounding of blood in your ears, they could be screaming obscenities at you and you wouldn’t be able to hear them.

The only thing that seems able to quiet the noise is Bucky’s fingers intertwining with yours.

Only then do you hear Wanda speak, her accent tinging each word. It’s comforting, to hear something so familiar.

“I assume you both have drawn up something that,” she eyes the man across from her with a look dusted with disdain. “Tony and I can look at.”

Bucky slides the thick document, held together in a beat-up binder you found under a bookshelf, across the table. Wanda is the one who stops it and looks into it first.

She says nothing, holding her tongue as she allows Tony to eye the document. He’s wearing dark sunglasses and pushes them to the corner of his nose as thumbs through it, looking bored and tired.

“Yeah, this shit looks good,” Tony says quickly, shoving the dark glasses back over his eyes. “Can we leave now?”

The resounding silence continues until you break it yourself, attempting to detail for Steve and Natasha what it all means. They listen diligently and sign where needed, Natasha being decided on as the most likely to type it up into an official document and send it to the necessary parties.

Once it’s all over, you and Bucky ride down in the big, glass elevator together – excitement electric in the air.

“How’re you feeling?” Bucky asks. It doesn’t seem to be out of concern, even if tears of happiness are pricking at your eyes.

“God,” you tell him, voice breathy and ecstatic. “I don’t even know how to describe it. I just, I don’t know. I’ve been so terrified I’d have to hide this forever – or that you’d find out, or that someone would figure out who you were. And now…I just,” you wipe at your eyes, and Bucky pulls you into his chest. “I don’t have to worry about that anymore. I know you’re protected. And I don’t have to hide this from you. And I’m so fucking happy about it.”

Bucky kisses the top of your head, tucking you under his chin. “Oh, baby. Darling I’m so sorry you had to go through all that.”

The two of you stand in silence, holding each other until you have to exit. Neither of you say anything until you’re both in the car, safely on your way back to your shared home.

“We’re in this together right?” you ask, looking at Bucky as he keeps his dark eyes on the road.

Regardless he smiles, moving his right hand from the wheel to rest on your knee. “Always, baby. Always.”

[purplesurveys]

1143

survey by brock-checkitout

Do you like cheese? Yeah but not to an obsessive extent like most people on the internet seem to be. I have a lower tolerance when it comes to cheeses with stronger or more pungent flavors, and I like sticking to those on the creamy side, like feta and burrata.

What type of shampoo do you use? Dove.

Do turtles make you happy? I mean not as much as dogs would but they are animals, so encountering one would still make me giddy and happy :)))

Name one person who snores in their sleep. Both of my parents, which is why I used to dread whenever we’d book a trip and there’s only one main room available for the 5 of us.

Would you walk around a grocery store with a bra as glasses? Sure, if I was gonna do it for like a cause or something. Or if I got paid for it. I can’t imagine why I’d ever have to casually/randomly do it. Also how would that even work, if it actually had to work as glasses???

Can you do the HoeDown ThrowDown? That movie came out when we were in the midst of moving houses and everything was super hectic in my little 10 year old life, so I never got to wach it, actually. I missed out on the whole Hoedown Throwdown craze and I distinctly remember jealously watching over my classmates as they danced it together.

Do you like Hershey's Chocolate bars? Just the cookies and cream variant.

What smiley face do you use the most? :) I very rarely use others.

What type of cell phone do you have? I have an iPhone 8.

Do you listen to rap? Not so much. For the most part, I stick to my tried and tested albums, like Jay-Z and Kanye’s Watch the Throne.

Look at something green, does it have batteries in it? That would be a nearby alcohol bottle, and no, it does not need batteries.

What's the first thing that comes to your mind when I say: PRINTER? Ink and paper.

What is the last cuss word you said out loud? Not so sure, but since I commonly say shit and fuck they could serve as safe enough guesses.

Do you like cows? Sure.

What kind of car does your mother drive? These days we split ‘my’ car between us since we sold our third car, which used to be the one she’d usually drive. The new arrangement used to bug me at first because it meant I now had to notify my mom in advance whenever I planned to drive out, but I’ve since gotten used to the setup.

What do you get in your tacos? I don’t eat tacos. Not that I dislike them; there are just many other Mexican dishes I find more filling.

What is your opinion on blueberries? As a flavor, it’s fine. But I actually tried an actual blueberry for the very first time last week when my aunt sent over a blueberry cheesecake - I really wanted to give it a chance, but I still found it nasty :( I really don’t know why I hate fruits so much lmao.

Are you currently wearing lip gloss/chap stick? Nopes.

Is there a bottle of lotion near you? There isn’t.

Name one person that you know that smokes. Sam smokes superexcessively. Like I’ve completely forgotten how much she can smoke in an evening until I hung out with her again a few weeks ago. It was half impressive and half terrifying; and my clothes ended up smelling because of it.

What's your favorite season? We don’t have the usual four seasons, but based on what I’ve seen in media, spring and winter look and feel the most pleasant to me.

Are any of your friends vegetarians? No.

What is one phrase that you hate hearing? “All lives matter” really pisses me off.

Can you name four presidents right now? Rodrigo Duterte, Ramon Magsaysay, Fidel Ramos, Diosdado Macapagal. But because I’m guessing this meant American presidents...George W. Bush, John F. Kennedy, Andrew Jackson, Harry Truman.

What is the first thing you think of when I say: HOOD? A jacket.

Do you currently own a cat? Nope.

What do you think of Ulta? I think of the fact that I’ve never heard of that before and I don’t actually know what this is referring to.

Have you ever walked into a club and asked for a Coke? No.

Do you like classical music? Sure, some.

What is your opinion on Oreos? I had the biscuits like a billion times as a kid to the point that I got sick of them. I will always pick the Oreo flavor in other desserts though, be it cheesecake, cupcake, cookies, milkshakes, tc. 

Do you like Chips-Ahoy? No, tastes too artificial/processed. I’ll always go for freshly-baked cookies.

What did ya think of this survey? It was fine. I *think* I haven’t taken this before either, so that’s a plus lol.

--

survey by carolynnnnonia

1. What time did you wake up this morning? Around 6:30ish.

2. When did you take your default picture? It’s not a photo of me, it’s a still from BoJack Horseman. Years ago I saw someone on Twitter use it as a default and I found it hilarious, so I decided to do the same thing for this blog.

3. Are you hungry? Mmm not so much right now actually. I had a midnight snack that I only got to finish by like 2 AM so I still feel pretty filled.

4. Have you ever cheated on a test? Yup but just once. When I ended up perfecting the exam I cheated on, I felt like a fraud and I’ve never cheated since. I’d rather get an honest 99 than get a 100 that I’m ashamed of, lol.

5. When was the last time you ate ice cream? I think it had been last week when we had a cookies and cream tub in the fridge.

6. What computer game is in your CPU? I don’t play PC games and it’s been a hoooooot minute since I’ve seen a CPU.

7. Do you like Audrey Hepburn? You’ve come to the right person :))) Yup, obsessed. Have watched her entire filmography except for the ones that are impossible to find DVDs of or online.

8. What color is your winter jacket?

9. Do you have any siblings? Yup.

10. Would you call yourself skinny? Not anymore. I’ve filled up a bit over the last few years but I’m still usually seen as thin. I was a lot skinnier in my teens.

11. Does your phone take pictures? Yes, 2008 survey, it does.

12. Who is your favorite neighbor? They’re not really neighbors, but the construction workers who are currently working on a new house from across ours are crazy over Cooper and love to greet him and give him a few pats when I take him out. My actual neighbors are rather quiet and we tend to keep to ourselves.

13. Do you wish at 11:11? No.

14. Have you ever gotten a detention? We don’t have detention here.

15. Do you still watch Disney Channel? Nah, we took out our cable last year because no one was using it anymore. And I doubt there’s anything watchable on Disney Channel for a twentysomething?? Lmao I usually stick to the shows and movies I grew up with, so.

16. Who did you last IM? Angela.

17. Who is your least favorite teacher? Whoever hated me for no reason in middle and high school. Then in college, I had to power through a misogynist, sexist, delusional Duterte-supporting professor for an entire semester as well.

18. What were you doing six hours ago? I was winding down and watching Good Mythical Morning videos to eventually doze off.

19. What is your ringtone? Just the default iPhone ones.

20. Does your door have a dead bolt on it? I had to look this up haha but yeah.

21. Have you ever been to a show? Like, a live shooting of a show? Hmm....I don’t remember ever going to one yet. I remember being invited to one because they needed seat fillers, but I had school at the time and was never available on the day of the shoot.

22. What are some details about your first kiss? Innocent, pure. Even though that person ended up disappointing me, I don’t regret having my first kiss with them.

23. What college do you want to attend/currently attend? I went to UP.

24. Have you had any soda today? No and I most likely won’t.

25. What is your favorite scary movie? Carrie, The Shining, and Evil Dead are some good ones.

26. Do you own a Wii? We used to and it was a big part of my late childhood to my early teens. We had thrown it out years ago, though, because it stopped working.

27. Did you wear shorts today? I currently am wearing shorts, yeah, and I plan on wearing shorts for the rest of the day.

28. Anything fun happening this weekend? There’s an official Kim Seonho fanmeet happening tonight on Facebook and I’m so excited for it lmaaaaaaoooo

29. What shoes did you wear today? One of my sneakers.

30. What is your favorite type of Pop Tart? We only get 5 flavors here in the Philippines, but my favorite is the chocolate fudge one.

31. Do you subscribe to any magazines? Nope.

32. What was the last television show you watched? I didn’t watch it on TV, but I watched a few clips from this show called Caught in Providence on Facebook. I have such a soft spot for that show.

33. Do you know any other languages? If I’m not speaking in English, I use Filipino, yes.

34. Are you wearing anything green? No.

[yaypinecones]

_-My First Impression on Danganronpa Characters Pt.1-_

Makoto Naegi:

When I saw his art design, I was wonder why his shoe came off and looks like he’s gonna fall down. Pretty normal, nothing unique about him. Then when I played the game I was like “Man, imagine this guy being the main character because everyone else looks interesting...well besides Sayaka” (but we’re not talking about her yet). To me, he looks like the guy you’d pass by class or didn’t know he even existed in your school.

Aoi Asahina:

Hmmm yummy, I like donuts. I think we’re gonna be donut buddies. Yea this my first impression on her art. Plus she’s a swimmer that loves eating a ton of crazy amounts of donuts. When playing, it was pretty interesting that she writes Makotos name on her hand to remember him. Also, o thought the logos on the boxes of donuts say Crispy Creams lol. I love her already and I wanna be her friend :)

Byakuya Togami:

“Is a spoiled brat or some blonde rich asshole?” I think those two figures on the chair legs say so. Is he some kind of a prince??? Looks like he could be the antagonist of the game. I hate this man, I wanna punch him in the face for literally insulting everyone and thinking he can be better than everyone else because he’s the heir of some corporate.

Celestia Ludenberg:

OooOo I love her style! Her outfit looks like mix of a maid outfit and goth vibes lol. Also I thought she was a magician or dark magic kind of ultimate, but nah that can’t be it. To me, she gives off a mysterious aura or is it just goth vibes again??? I don’t know why she has those drill pigtails, it’s giving flash backs of a certain purple haired twin drilled girl from another game.

Chihiro Fujisaki:

She looks cute lol. That’s pretty cool the she’s some kind of programmer or hacker. I don’t really have much of an opinion about her other than the computers. In game, she’s so adorable and her introduction was nice. She really looks down on herself when she mentions that Mokoto has that look. Must protect!!!

Hifumi Yamada:

I gotta ask...why does he have 4 arms??? He looks so cartoony compared to all the other characters. Hyper realism gone wrong really. I have so many questions of this guy....like why is his hair look a nail, why is using the printer as backpack, and don’t even tell me why there’s a tissue and Clorox wipe???? Also on the right, is that a game or some kind of reference because that doesn’t match up the art style. I feel he’s some kind of pervert or creep. On game, he’s ok on his introduction I guess.

Junko Enoshima:

I like her style too. She reminds me of those trendy girls and those people that buys pumpkin spice lattes. Plus that skirt is waaaay too short girl. I think she’s a rich girl too? Like some kind of famous model or stylist or a popular toy maker? Cuz the bear is there. Seeing her in game, she’s pretty cool and she’s the first person I wanted to hang out on the free time event.

Kiyotaka Ishimaru:

Why is this guy crying? Also I wish I could read what the word says. He seems he needs emotional support because he looks stressed which is why he’s crying. Is he like one of those kids that takes over the class when the teacher is out? A class president I think? Definitely and probably a goody two shoes. Meeting him, was a lot to take a bit. He’s pretty loud at everything and seems he doesn’t have any friends, which is sad :( If I met him in real life, I wouldn’t want to talk to him too due to how loud he is and following the school rules all the time :/

Kyoko Kirigiri:

Ok, she’s more mysterious and interesting character. Love her hair color. I can’t really get anything from her as she doesn’t explain what her ultimate is and it wants me to dig more information about on the wiki. But, I didn’t so I also tried spending time with her on free time events too.

Leon Kuwata:

Eh I’m not really lnto baseball guys. The style looks cool and his face looks punkish tho. I’m surprised that his sleeve tore off from throwing a baseball thats now on fire, but pretty sure thats an exaggeration. I was confused that his art was different since his character art is just a punk guy. Then he explained that he doesn’t like baseball and wants to be musician. Aight good luck dude. That is all from this guy.

It sucks that I can’t stuff the rest of the other characters. Ima go make a part two. See ya guys.

Heres Part 2

[eddiemilkman]

- Random Writing Prompt #1 -

Hey there! I’m pretty new to this platform and just trying to find my way around it for now, but I do wanna make a quick low quality post just to fill up a bit of space. I went on this website https://www.servicescape.com/writing-prompt-generator (This one here) and decided a fun thing to do when entering this cite was one of those funky prompts. So I did! And here's a portion of it. It’s late and I have a test tomorrow so I don't wanna stay up too long, but here’s a bit of writing to get a feel of what I’m all about. Hope you enjoy. (Also an important thing to note: I’m not a huge spelling or grammar buff so there’s probably mistakes and I’m sorry.)

ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛ #862: ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜɴɢ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ɴᴇɪɢʜʙᴏʀʜᴏᴏᴅ ʙᴏʏ ᴡʜᴏ ʟɪᴋᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴀᴍᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜ. ʙᴏᴛʜ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴅɪʀᴛ ᴘᴏᴏʀ, ʙᴜᴛ ɪᴛ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ ꜱᴇᴇᴍ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ; ᴀꜱ ʟᴏɴɢ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴅ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ, ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴀ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ-ʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇ ᴀᴅᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀᴇ ʀɪɢʜᴛ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏʀɴᴇʀ. ʜᴇ ɢʀᴇᴡ ᴜᴘ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴀ ꜱᴛᴀʀ ʙᴀꜱᴋᴇᴛʙᴀʟʟ ᴘʟᴀʏᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ, ɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜᴇ'ꜱ ᴡᴇᴀʟᴛʜʏ ʙᴇʏᴏɴᴅ ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ꜱᴇᴇᴍꜱ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ꜰᴏʀɢᴏᴛᴛᴇɴ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ʜᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ. ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇɴ'ᴛ ᴛᴀʟᴋᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜɪᴍ ɪɴ ʏᴇᴀʀꜱ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴀ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴀᴍɪʟʏ ʙʀɪɴɢꜱ ʜɪᴍ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏʟᴅ ɴᴇɪɢʜʙᴏʀʜᴏᴏᴅ, ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴄᴏɴɴᴇᴄᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇɪɴᴛʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ ʜɪᴍ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪꜰᴇ ʜᴇ ʟᴇꜰᴛ ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ.

ᴘᴀʀᴛ (1/??) ᴘ��ᴄᴋʟᴇ ᴄʜɪᴘ ᴇᴀᴛᴇʀꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘɪᴄᴋʟᴇ ᴄʜɪᴘ ꜱᴇʟʟᴇʀꜱ

When we were young, my mother told me Gary was going to be a total tool. And I didn’t believe her at all. Gary was my friend so I couldn't imagine him growing older and not being good ole Gary. The Gary you could laugh and pig out with. The Gary who would holler and bark so loudly in class, the teacher would have to put him out in the hallway with nothing but his worksheet and pencil bag. He never acted like he was better than anyone else. When the washing machine would run busted, he would flip his shirt and wear it the next school day just like all of the rest of us. 

That's why when he was accepted into that fancy-schmancy college for scarf wearers and coffee drinkers, it knocked me straight on my ass. I was happy, and everyone strung up a plastic smile at his going away party, but when he left everything was so...colorless. I wouldn’t deem it tool behavior, but it did solidify my mother's suspicion of him one day up and ditching me. He was my other half and then just dipped out on me for prestigious people who read Shakespeare and go to those cafes where there's wifi. He didn't even know those people! He left his comfortable little river to swim out through the mouth into an ocean of unfamiliar specimens. Sharks and dolphins, all aggressively fighting for a reward neither of us would daydream of.

We both sort of assumed we’d be stuck sweeping the Quick Mart or selling rolled joints to middle schoolers until the end of time. Middle schoolers would never stop loving the abuse of weak drugs and the Quick mart floors would never not have puddles of vomit and booze. That sounds more like a secure job than something you can go to college for. You can turn around one day and boom, the stock market or something crashed (?) I don't know much about business. Anyways yeah, you get my point. Pickle chips and fake cheese the color of a school bus will never go out of style. Stupid businesses that make those fancy indoor bike things will. What if everyone one day woke up and said “wow, I can always just run outside…”. Then what would happen? Those who went to college and got that stinky degree would be thrown out on the street, eating away their stress by scarfing down pickle chips!

I never thought of Gary as a pickle chip eater rather than a pickle chip seller. I mean when we would scribble down our future on printer paper it was incredibly detailed and surprisingly dull for children. The fortune we manifested during a game of M.A.S.H read to us as a mere fantasy. When we reached middle school it was clear we weren't going to live a life of golf courses and acceptable day drinking. We sort of realized this a few weeks into middle school, when we would be lined up against a brick wall while tall beefy police officers with their beastly dogs raided lockers for weed and patted us down for pocket knives. We were treated like deadbeats so we sort of expected it from ourselves and assumed the only way out was if one of us won the Powerball or….if the other one won the Powerball. I thought that was the plan… Man, being a failure alone sort of sucks come to think of it.  

I wouldn't call myself a loser, just not a massive winner-ly type. I’m a goal-getter and I'll give myself that. I did land that job at Quick Mart restocking shelves, which is a little bittersweet now. 

Gary always popped into my head every other week. I guess I’m just hung up on the stuff I never got to say. Why didn’t he suggest we attend the same college? Why when it came to our future planning was he loud, but in reality, disappeared so quietly?

“CHAS!” A voice echoed behind me. So sharp and stern, mean and crippling. Ugh...Lester. “You’ve been sweeping that corner for 5 minutes! Quit bleeding the clock and go do some actual work!” 

I grip the handle of the broom and grunt. Fucking Lester. If there's anyone from high school I didn't want to land a job with, it's that joker. He was scrawny in size but a huge talker. It's crazy how the smallest of people always squawk the loudest. I do what he says because he’s a loudmouth and will probably rant and rave about me to the boss about how I leave all of the work on his tiny frame and he needs someone “competent”. Well, I need someone who doesn't act like a total ass-hat, but my needs haven't been accommodated yet so neither will his. I began toying around with some boxes of wafers on the shelf, just straightening them for no good reason. Sedated by boredom, I find my mind slowly drifting into other places. Where was he? Was he skipping around a college campus, holding onto his textbooks that he had to pay for?! Who pays for his pencils and books and highlighters? I bet he has that little bottle of white paint you slap over pen mistakes because your assignment is just too important for there to be scribbles on. 

“GET THE HELL OUTTA 'HERE!” 

My body suddenly jolts at the commotion from over near the cash register. Lester was using his thin little arms to violently push a grey round figure into the glass door. The man stumbled over his torn sneakers and gripped the doorframe. Lester used his small fist to pound on his fingers while simultaneously kicking him in the thigh. Once the man let go, Lester used the collar of his worn bomber jacket to throw him out onto the sidewalk. He shuffled from the door with hesitation, breathing like a wolf. 

“Damn” I whimper meekly through the gaps of the shelves. 

“That’s it, we’re closed.”

“Uh, Larry’s not gonna-”

“That meth head is gonna freak the hell out again. That joker comes in high as a plane every other day, and asks me if he can use his ‘coupons’ which I’ve told him a trillion times are fake and obviously printed out on a home computer-”

“Let him have it”, I squeak “he’s probably just really hungry”

“An iced tea, Slim Jim, and a loaf of bread should fill him up just fine! He treats shopping here like its extreme couponing. The worst part isn't the fake-y coupons, but when he wigs the hell out on me when I deny him. You weren't here when he sprayed me with fake cheese?”

“I think I was late that day”

Lester rolled his eyes. 

“‘Course you were. God forbid your 6-foot ass came and protected me from crazy meth addicts.”

“Can we give him the spoils in the back?” I ask as I make my move over to the back room. The pile of “spoiled” food had built up to a mountain of American waste. I was ready to cut a slice into my unofficial take-home pay to get a hungry guy some food. I mean at least he was crafty and wasn't trying to come to rob the place.

“He’s gonna come in here with a gun one of these days.” I from the back room. “And get sent to the joint for a 3 dollar slim jim and pack of Oreos?” Lester strolls in behind me.

“3 square meals a day...” I mutter. Prison never sounded so bad. Free food, chess, television if you’re good. I was a good guy. I'd probably be on kitchen duty or do something fun. 

“Well, I wouldn't put it past him...that crazy weirdo”

*Yah so this is the basic rundown of how I write and what maybe most of my posts will look like. As you can see its a umm....*ahem* easy read? I’m not that artistic with my writing sorry. Maybe ill improve one day.*

[cakesunflower]

Quiet Hours [College!Luke AU] Ch. 1

A/N: so uhhhh i wrote a new Luke thing. it’s college!Luke being an annoying neighbor to our pretty OC named Ophelia.......that’s it. that’s all the summary i got for you. you’re gonna have to keep reading in order to learn more hehehehe

Chapter 1

OPHELIA WRIGHT WANTED to cry.

To be fair, she was a junior in college but it was only the second week of school, so having her first mental breakdown so soon had to be some kind of record. Several syllabi, books, and other papers littered her desk as she hastily tried to clean everything before having to leave. Ophelia prided herself in being a tidy person, but her rushed behavior had her knocking things down more than cleaning up, making even more of a mess than she could handle.

“You sound like a bull in a china shop, dude,” came the voice of Isabelle Harwell, who poked her black curly head into the room to see what exactly was going on with her best friend/roommate.

Ophelia let out a frustrated breath, turning to see the curiously amused expression of the tall girl leaning against her door frame. Stylishly round framed glasses sat on the bridge of Isabelle’s delicate nose as Ophelia ran her fingers through her dark hair. “I’ve got too much shit on this thing,” she complained, gesturing haphazardly to her desk. Her books and papers were piled on top of her laptop, and the HP printer was taking up a good portion of the table with even more books on top of it.

Isabelle offered an unhelpful shrug. “It’s not too late to drop out.” At the deadpanned look her friend set her, she smirked, “kidding. Come on, you can do this later; let’s go to the quad.”

The hazel eyed girl casted one last troubled look at her messy desk, before letting out a breath and grabbing her favorite denim jacket off the bed post. Pulling her arms through the sleeves, Ophelia followed Isabelle down the short hall of their apartment, passing the bathroom and bedrooms as they crossed the empty living room and went out the door. Their other two roommates, Laurel and Tanya, were most likely already at the courtyard, which only confirmed this suspicion of Ophelia’s when she received a message from Tanya in their group chat, asking where they were.

They walked down the dark orange hall of their apartment building, passing by their neighbors that never quieted down. As the resident advisor for this floor, Ophelia was in charge of the six rooms on her side of the floor, and while it’s only the second week of school, Ophelia has already told the boys living next to her to quiet down a few times already. It’s not like they were ridiculously loud—just enough to disturb her sleep at three in the morning. She wouldn’t have minded if they were loud during the day, because that’s when most of the residents played their music in their apartments. It was just dumb of them to be so noisy when it was quiet hours throughout the building, which ranged from ten at night to ten in the morning on weekdays and from one in the morning to the afternoon on weekends.

“Can’t you just kick them out? You’re the R.A.,” Isabelle shrugged as the two girls left the building and stepped outside. It was early September, but the New Jersey air was surprisingly pleasant. It barely warranted Ophelia’s denim jacket, but she loved the clothing.

“They were just laughing. I banged on the wall once and one of them apologized and it got quiet,” Ophelia informed, shooting her best friend an amused look. “Something tells me if you were the R.A., we’d be the only ones living in the building.”

Isabelle snickered, agreeing whole heartedly with Ophelia’s statement as they walked the familiar paved pathway to the courtyard. “Us minus Laurel,” she grumbled, the gold frames of her glasses glinting under the sunlight. “I swear, if she doesn’t stop stinking the fridge up with her kale smoothies, I’m gonna dump them over her head.”

Ophelia’s amused smile only widened as the two of them neared the courtyard, hearing music playing in the distance and only growing louder the closer they got. This time of day, ranging from 12:30 in the afternoon to two, was known as common hour; it was only on Tuesdays and Thursdays, where everyone on campus would be out of class and gathered in either the courtyard or one of the multipurpose rooms in the student center, depending on the weather. There would be stands of foods along with a couple of food trucks, cotton candy and popcorn machines, and the occasional inflatable obstacle courses.

It was like a carnival came by every week, and Ophelia would be lying if one of the deciding factors when she was choosing which college to attend wasn’t this weekly event. Plus, all the sororities and frats sometimes came out to stroll—which, Ophelia learned in her freshman year, was them putting on choreographed dances for everyone. Unsurprisingly, when the two got there, the courtyard was already crowded with students; the DJ set up on the wide landing in front of the student center with speakers on either side, and the smell of fried food and popcorn lingering heavily in the air.

Before meeting up with their other two roommates, Ophelia and Isabelle treated themselves to cotton candy before walking towards the part of the courtyard that the inflatable obstacle course didn’t occupy. Some were sitting on the grass, while others had set up hammocks between the trees surrounding the yard, unbothered by the activities around them.

“Some guy literally tumbled down from the top of the slide all the way to the ground,” was how Laurel greeted Ophelia and Isabelle through a snort of laughter, sparing them a brief glance as they sat next to her and Tanya Divan on the grass. “I’m surprised he didn’t break his neck.”

Tanya snickered as she took a bite of her cheese fries. “Could’ve sued the school and paid off his tuition,” she mused, earning an exasperated eye roll from Ophelia.

The grass tickled Ophelia’s exposed ankles, courtesy of her boyfriend jeans. She was wearing denim on denim, she just realized, but couldn’t bring herself to care because she felt cute so she looked cute, too, running her fingers through dark blonde hair as she listened to her friends converse. Occasionally biting into the sweet airy cotton candy, Ophelia’s hazel eyed gaze lazily wandered around, her ears picking up the music playing and mixture of people chattering. There was a line forming in front of one of the food trucks, the one that served some of the best quesadillas she’s ever had, and wondered if she was in the mood for some.

Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go by Wham! was playing throughout the courtyard, and Ophelia blessed the DJ for liking eighties music as much as she did as she remained seating on the grass, dancing to the music while eating the sickenly sweet treat. A few minutes later, her friends had finished with their treats and wanted to go on the obstacle course, begging Ophelia to come, though she rejected the offer. She wasn’t done with her cotton candy, so she said she’d watch her friends’ things before they took off to the other side of the courtyard.

Ophelia wasn’t even halfway done with her cotton candy when she felt a presence to her right, turning her head and blinking in surprise at the sight of the guy sitting just a few inches away from her. Even as he sat, he was taller than Ophelia, with unruly blonde hair that was a curly mess going slightly past his ears. When he turned to look at her, bright blue eyes caught her off guard and Ophelia could’ve sworn she had seen him somewhere before. Probably around campus, though she couldn’t exactly put her finger on it. Though, what she could decide easily, was how unexpectedly attractive he was, the scruff decorating around his mouth and jaw only emphasizing the fact. How could she not remember seeing a face like that around?

“Um, hi?” Ophelia managed out, the perplexion evident in her tone as she raised an eyebrow at the admittedly handsome stranger. She was almost convinced his sharp jaw could cut glass.

The guy sat with his legs brought up, though spaced so he could rest his arms on his knees, long legs clad in black and red plaid pants. His blue eyes met Ophelia’s hazel, and she was taken aback at how bright they were. They appeared almost clear under the afternoon sun. “Hey, how’re you doin’?” he responded, and Ophelia was faced with the unexpected realization that this guy most definitely wasn’t American. He had some kind of accent coating his deep voice; possibly British, maybe Australian?

Her left hand was still gripping onto the stick of cotton candy, fingers of her right sticky from tearing it out as she placed her hand awkwardly on her knee as to not get her fingers anywhere. “Uh, good,” she responded, still utterly confused as to who this guy was. “What’s up?”

Blondie shrugged his broad, leather jacket clad shoulders, one eye closed as he squinted against the sun. “Nothing much,” he responded, and Ophelia figured he sounded more Australian than anything else. The guy then jutted his chin forward. “My friends ran off on that thing and I saw yours did too so I figured I’d keep you company.”

Confident. Ophelia followed his gaze towards the inflatable obstacle course where people were crawling through tunnels of, climbing up and then sliding down on the other side. Her eyes landed on her friends, sliding down before running back to do it all over again. An amused yet fond smile tilted Ophelia’s lips before looking back at the blonde boy next to her. If she was gonna wait for her friends to come back, might as well do it in the company of the handsome dude. “I’m Ophelia.”

The stranger looked back at her, arms still propped on his knees as a slight smirk curled at the corner of his lips, hinting at a dimple under his facial hair. “I know; you’re my R.A.,” he surprised her by saying, mirth flashing across his eyes. “I’m Luke Hemmings.”

The blonde girl’s eyebrows furrowed slightly, tilting her head as she gazed at the guy before realization struck her instantly as her eyes widened. No wonder he looked so familiar—she probably saw him at the first and only floor meeting she conducted at the beginning of last week—as well as the fact that his name also rung an annoyingly loud bell. That was accompanied by a thought that clicked in her head, and she narrowed her eyes as her upper body turned to face him more. “You’re one of guys in 4102.”

Luke’s smirk widened, the dimple deepening as a breeze tousled his hair. “Guilty,” he chuckled throatily, tilting his head to the side to allow the chunky ring clad fingers of his right hand to run through his hair, pushing it back.

Irritation sparked through Ophelia, which it rarely did when she first met someone because she was the type of girl to actually get to know a person before feeling an instant sense of annoyance. But knowing this boy next to her, as handsome as he may be, was one of the loud neighboring boys was having her press her lips together in frustrated disdain. It’s only been two weeks since the school year started, so Ophelia’s not entirely associated with the faces of the students she is the resident advisor for on their apartment floor, which allowed her to not focus on the mild guilt for not recognizing the boy next to her.

The one time she had banged on his door, it was three boys that were making noise and Luke most definitely wasn’t one of them. Ophelia let out a huff, shaking her head as she looked away and out at the courtyard. “You guys need to learn how to be quiet. You’re way too loud during quiet hours. I’ve already gotten complaints from the other residents.”

Luke shrugged, not looking too bothered that the school year’s only just begun and there were some people already annoyed by his and his friends’ antics. “‘S not my fault people don’t know how to have a good time,” was his response, eyes relaxing once the sun was hidden momentarily behind clouds.

An incredulous breath escaped Ophelia, staring at him in mild disbelief. “That’s rude. And inconsiderate,” she stated matter-of-factly, pulling out some cotton candy and putting it into her mouth.

“It’s called having fun, R.A. Ophelia,” Luke retorted, and a narrow eyed glare presented itself on Ophelia’s face at the condescending use of her duty-given title, naturally pouty lips protruding even more. Luke’s gaze flickered to her pink lips at the action, smirk faltering ever so slightly before he switched his gaze back to her eyes. They were lovely, a deep shade of hazel that, he couldn’t help but notice, looked a bit green under the sun. “Maybe everyone else on the floor should stop being so uptight.”

Ophelia’s lips parted at his words, the sweet cotton candy already dissolved in her mouth as she took notice of the serious expression on Luke’s face. Though, the slight smirk tugging on the corner of his full lips said otherwise. “Maybe the only reason people are uptight is because you guys are ridiculously loud at three in the morning. Don’t you guys have classes?”

“Afternoon classes,” Luke informed her, which made sense to Ophelia, since she could hear them be up at odd hours of the night, so having classes in the afternoon gave them ample time to sleep.

She rolled her eyes, trying to stop the smile on her face because the DJ was now playing one of her favorite songs by the Weeknd. But then Ophelia quickly remembered the smirking boy next to her, expression dropping as she pursed her lips. “That doesn’t mean everyone else has afternoon classes,” she said, jerking her head slightly to move away the locks of hair that blew forward because of the wind. “Keep up the noise and I’ll write you up.”

“Really?” Luke returned, eyebrows shooting up and Ophelia could’ve sworn he looked almost impressed at what she meant to sound as a warning. The blonde haired boy lowered his legs, spreading them in front and Ophelia tried not to notice how freaking long his legs were, while leaning back with his palms on the grass. “Gonna be honest with you, R.A. Ophelia—I don’t feel all that threatened,” he added, leaning towards her ever so slightly as the dimpled smirk showed off a row of annoyingly white teeth, tone taking a teasing turn.

He had leaned close, his cheek pressed against his shoulder as he squinted up at her, the sun making an appearance once more after momentarily being hidden behind the clouds. Ophelia felt warmth rise on her cheeks at the sudden proximity because while she’s been with her fair share of boys, she was still one who was unable to control the blush from spreading when a guy looked at her with a smirk on his face and a glint in his eyes. And a boy as handsome as Luke doing so? She was lucky she hadn’t become a tomato, even if he was just sitting next to her.

Gathering her wits, she managed to respond, “you will when you’re kicked out of the apartments.”

She hoped that Luke wouldn’t call her on her bluff—they had just met. In actuality, the most Ophelia may do is demand for them to keep it down and write them up once, maybe. Actually going through and having someone get kicked out of their housing wasn’t something she thought she could go through with. It was too harsh and extreme and not something she could live with if she did it. Though, that didn’t mean she couldn’t use it as a threat, even though it may not work on Luke.

Frustratingly enough, Ophelia’s words only widened Luke’s smirk, his blue eyes giving her a once over that had her grip on her cotton candy stick tightening and heart stupidly stuttering. She watched, suddenly frozen, as Luke leaned too close for comfort while she stayed still, breath frozen in her throat as she watched him draw near. He murmured over the sound of people talking and music playing, “I’d like to see the bark that goes with your bite, darling.”

Ophelia’s stomach twisted at his words—whether it was the pleasant kind or not, she couldn’t tell, didn’t want to—as the drawl of his Australian accent sent a strange, new electric feeling through her body. What the hell? she silently demanded of her body, of that unfamiliar sensation, though she was externally frozen as she watched Luke sit back once more, throwing a wink her way before his gaze flickered to something to his right, and he got to his feet.

She watched him stand up, feeling ridiculously tiny as he stood to his full height, towering over her frame as he looked down at her. Luke gave a two fingered salute, bidding, “see you around, R.A. Ophelia,” before turning and jogging off, his mass of hair bouncing slightly as he went to join the familiar group of three boys standing about twenty feet away, which Ophelia recognized as her neighbors.

A heavy huff escaped Ophelia, cheeks puffing at the action as she shook her head in disbelief. She’s only had one conversation with Luke Hemmings, and her judgement of him was that he was a confident, smooth talker with an accent to match. But she swore, in that moment, that she wasn’t going to allow that to let him get away with being one of the most rowdy people she’s ever had to live next to.

Clicking her tongue, Ophelia reached with her right hand to grab some more cotton candy to rip out, only for her eyes to widen ever so slightly to see that her treat was missing a big chunk—a lot more than she had eaten. “What the—” her words died in her throat, eyes involuntarily flickering to where Luke had been, only to see him standing by his friends.

She squinted against the sunlight, but from the distance, saw Luke glance over in her direction as he stood talking to the other boys, the knowing smirk finding home on his face and eyes locking with hers across the yard as he raised his right hand and placed the familiar pink sweet treat into his mouth. He sent her a dimpled grin and Ophelia’s jaw slackened in an incredulous scoff as he turned to leave. She had the rattling feeling that Luke wasn’t going to make living next door easy for her.

tags: @crownedbyluke @irwinkitten @astroashtonio @glitterprincelu @softforcal @valentinelrh @hotmessmichael @meetashthere @hereforlukescruff @c-sainthood @captain-what-is-going-on @angelbbycal @babygirlcashton @calntynes @calumh-excess @invisiblexcth @inlovehoodx @soulmatecashton @calumsmermaid @kchillout @thewackywriter @akacalciumhood @calumculture @ohhmuke @empathycth @flannelpunkcalum @poppedpins @wrappedaroundcal @walkedhomealone @calistheloml @gettingjillywithit @hearts-to-the-sky @old-zeppelin-shirt @5sos-stan4lyfe @all-i-want-is2b-loved-by-you @calumthoodsyonce @softboycal @xhaileyreneex @rosecoloredash @asht0ns-world @cxddlyash @misskarynie @mysteriouslycali @lmao5sosimagines @monsteramongmikey @calteahood @5secondssofssummer @sublimehood @bloodlinecal @biwriting 

[wellfuckthisshitagain]

Well fuck, this shit again?

I read a lot about narcissistic personality disorder because my parents fit this behavior so perfectly. However, I notice that my 1st oldest and 3rd oldest sister share some of their same behaviors.

I started looking for these type of behavior from my 3rd oldest sister. She lives near us therefore she's practically living with us. She rents an apparment from my mother and she gets access to our main Wi-Fi, our washing machine, and our food. She basically only shit, shower, and sleep in her apparment.

The problem I have with her is that she would come over and criticize our house. Saying how dirty it is, how smelly it is or how loud and cluster it feels. I'm literally the only one out of the 4 people that sleeps in the house that cleans it. Therefore whenever she passes one of her snarky comments about the house I feel like it's aimed at me.

I also have a problem with her eating our stuff. Before this whole COVID 19 shit I would buy my own Cheerios and Pb &J. I would buy a separate box of cereal for my 2nd oldest sister because she like the honey, but I like the chocolate Cheerios. My 3rd oldest sister would always eat out the honey Cheerios and when only the chocolate were left she'd get mad. I stopped buying the honey favored and just kept getting the chocolate, but I would feel bad because my 2nd oldest sister didn't like those. In the end I just kept on buying the 2 cereal and just kept mine in my room. My 3rd oldest sister would say I was being mean and rude and too exact like my mother with my cereal. Consequently I just stopped buying cereal overall. I notice she started buying her own stuff but kept them in our kitchen and when I would clean the cabinet would find her "stash".

The same thing happens with the PB&J. Recently my 2nd sister has gotten sick so she can't eat sweets but the PB&J had finished too fast. That's when it occurred to me that my 3rd oldest sister has been eating the PB&J all along. With my 2nd sister being sick she realize that no one could take the blame for her eating out the PB&J so she went and bought a new one. But it was the WRONG flavour.We literally have jars and jars of empty PB&J that we recycle and use in the kitchen. The fucking jar is purple. My 3rd oldest sister favorite color! But this bitch went and got the bloody red strawberry flavor PB&J! I told her she'll be the only one eating from that and she didn't have a problem with that, but I know if I go get the purple correct PB&J she'd eat from that as well.

It might seem "cold hearted" And minuscule to be upset about food sharing but I'm mean when it comes to food.

In addition, this occurred over the weekend. Monday or Sunday my 3rd oldest sister asked me to scan some documents for her. Now I honestly didn't want to do it because well, I didn't and she was also being a bitch to me over the weekend which made me more not want to help her. However, I told her I would do it and I did. I scan her stuff for her the Tuesday evening as she was getting home. Just 2 papers no big deal. While I was at my desk doing the scanning I called her to give her back the papers and to see how she wanted me to send her the documents. She said Whatsapp so I sent her the file. "FILE" ONE DOCUMENT. She got upset because I scanned the 2 paper and saved them as one document. It was saved as PDF I'm sure you can separate PDF files if you wanted to, and I told her that. She then asked me to scanned 2 more other paper for her right there and then and to save them separately and as a JPG document. Ok done. Sent via Whatsapp.

Now tonight. I came out of my room to eat, but ended up starting to wash the dishes. She came over from her apparment saying she want me to scan more things for her. I told this child I will help her after I finish the dishes. She started shouting at me that her papers are more important and that she's asking me to do this one thing for her because she's on a time deadline and that she wants someone from work to print them for her tomorrow morning. I kept telling her I will help her, but after i finish the dishes. She's said no. I can either put on my laptop and let her use it or she will take the printer to her apartment and connect it to her laptop on her own. I told her I don't want her using my laptop and I just need to finish the dishes and then I'll get to her.

This woman started saying how everyone have to do everything on MY timing. The kitchen gets clean when I want to clean it! Everyone has to wait on when I'm willing to help!

Now that's when my mother chimed in saying that she wakes up every morning and have to wash the dishes so she doesn't want me to come out the kitchen until I finish and that my sister should help me so I finish faster. My sister didn't say anything to my mother; with that she just kept yelling how I never help her and that she's on a time deadline and that she's just asking me to scan some documents and all I need to do it enter my password on my laptop so she can use it.

I told her numerous times I was going to do the scanning for her while she was shouting at me. She said she can't wait on me so she's just going to take the printer with her and connect it to her laptop on her own.

I only took half an hour to wash up. Just 30 mins. She could have waited. When I went to my room my desk and draw that the printer was set on was pull out of place and the cereal box that i use to hold all my printing paper on the floor. She just left them like that. Didn't even bother to push back the desk and draw against the wall.

Now this got me pissed because most likely she saw my ballet shows on the floor and I honestly didn't want anyone from my family knowing that I'm practicing ballet in my room again. I also didn't want her using my laptop beucsse we all my phone notification displays on it and my emails and plus it's my fucking laptop I have to right to privacy, don't I?

I went to her apartment and yelled at her for leaning my room like that. And that she crossed a boundary for taking the printer out of my room like that. And that it was unfair of her to treat me in such a manner because I was going to help her regardless. She just sat there and said "you're not over this yet?" While on her phone. She then told me to get out of her room and that she's gonna put in her headphones just like i do because she doesn't want i hear me.

I walk around cleaning the house while listening to podcast so I'm always wearing my headphones and my family hates that.

The display board that I bought to make her and my 2nd sister their birthday number sign slipped behind the desk.

Seeing the damn display board that I want to make them their birthday number sign from reminded me of what my 3rd older sister told me a couple weeks back. She wants to have a birthday part. She wants to have it on the roof, with fairy lights and a photoshoot background and to have her boyfriend buy her the balloon numbers to show her age. She wanted to have her own party but from the time she started talking about it no one really paid her mind. That's when she told my 2nd sister to join in on her birthday party so it can be 2 birthday celebration into one party. She knows the family is more inclined to do stuff for my 2nd sister. Even my mother passed a comment saying that she's only joining the two birthday because the family is more willing to do stuff for my 2nd sister than for my 3rd therefore she's using my 2nd sister to piggy back ride on.

A couple weeks ago the 3 of us went to buy decorations for the party, and when we came back home we went to her apartment to look at what they got and what all needs to be done in order to start decorating. She listed stuff like: cleaning the roof, putting up decorations, making food arrangements, getting tablets and chairs on the roof, checking if all the lights are working and making the photoshoot background. Just talking about it made me tired. I knew I would be the one who would have to help her do all these things. At that moment I was laying on her bed tired form the day and now tired from the mental thought of doing all those things and I just sighed in exasperation. She got mad and said she doesn't even want to ask for my help and that she doesn't even want to ask me for the bare minimum of help.

I want to be mean and just don't help her at all with the party. Make only a birthday number sign for my 2nd sister and not my 3rd. I want her to keep the printer and not give it back and just keep it. I want to go buy my PB&J and cereal again and tell her non for her. I want to be so fucking mean to her and just cut her off and just ignore her all the fucking time and just stop talking to her over all. But we fucking live together!

[thepaperpanda]

The Interview || Venom x Reader + Avengers

V+A

Summary: After defeating Thanos, Venom has few days off. It's until Captain America and Iron Man themselves appear at Eddie's office for promised interview.

Warnings: None

Words: 1875

Requests: @thewildgardensstuff

Author: Cass & Rouge

Steve Rogers was sitting in a waiting room, reading some newspaper that he found on a coffee table. He drank two coffees already while waiting for Eddie Brock to show up.

They were set on an interview but reporter was getting late and Steve started to thinking that Brock probably forgot about appointment. "Would you be so kind to call him once again?," Steve asked a receptionist.

She smiled hesitantly. "I did few times with no response. I'm sorry. Please, be patient, I believe he's on his way."

Tony rolled his eyes. "I can't believe this! We waste our time here, right now I would be sitting in my lab creating some amazing tech and you would…," he look at Steve, "be sighing sadly to Peggy's photo or whatever you super soldier do, but no! You dragged me here," Tony growled.

Captain cocked his brow angrily. "Petience, Stark. It's one of these virtues that you lack," he said, sipping black liquid from his mug. "Brock and his alien friend have saved the world after all, we owe him this interview at least."

"Says the guy that drinks coffee like crazy. I own him nothin', simple 'okay thanks!' would be enough, but our golden hearted soldier had to be like 'sure! Interview is cool'. We're on first pages all around New York. Like it's not enough. I am going home," Tony got up from his seat.

Just in that minute Eddie bursted right through the door. "Shit! Sorry! So sorry, I am late! But I am here now! Come on, I mean. Good Morning Mr. Rogers and Mr. Stark. Let's go to my office and well... Let's start," Eddie was in such a rush that he even didn't notice he still was wearing his riding helmet.

"Take this shit off your dumb head, you turd," Venom growled in man's mind. "Like you wouldn't look ridiculous enough without this shit on your huge head."

Steve smiled and walked to Brock, he shook man's hand. "Hello. It's not a problem, at all, right, Tony?"

Eddie blinked and quickly removed the helmet.

Tony smiled sarcastically. "Oh no! No, no, no, not a problem. At all. It's not like we have world to protect. F.R.I.D.A.Y says we have a day off today," Tony said sarcastically.

"I am still so sorry I forced such a guests to wait," Eddie said and led them to his office.

When Brock went ahead, Steve approached Tony and snorted into his ear. "Only for this one time try to restrain your awful personality, Stark."

They both entered the office with a beautiful view on the San Francisco. "You have a nice place here, Eddie," Steve smiled at man as he took a seat in an armchair.

"Nah, you never stop you child-like wonder and boyish charm, Cap. No, thanks." Tony muttered and followed Eddie inside his office. He sat down next to Steve and shrugged.

"Thank you, it's nothing really. I bet it's not like your famous Avengers Tower," Eddie said.

"No, it's not. You are right here, Mr. Alien friend," Tony said with smile.

Captain rolled his eyes and let out a loud sigh. "I'm sorry for my friend, he likes to be a dick sometimes," he explained. "So, what are your questions, Eddie?"

Venom formed himself and out his chin on Eddie's shoulder. "Hi, tasty guys."

"What? He said it himself. I just agreed with him. Agreeing with someone is beeing a dick?," Tony blinked and looked a Venom. "AH! Thanos eater, himself… Or…  Itself?"

Eddie let out a little laugh. "So, uhm. How is it to be an avenger? I mean, you do a lot of things. Isn't it a bit too much sometimes?"

"It's overwhelming actually," Steve said. "But as long as we do a good job with eliminating all possible threats, I enjoy it."

Venom's eyes glistened from sun rays that were falling into the room through a window. "Mr Rogers sounds so reasonable. And looks yummy."

"Venom, stop that. Please," Eddie said and looked at Tony. "Mr. Stark?"

Tony looked up. "I agree with Cap. I mean, it's hard but we are heroes, right? I enjoy it because ladies love the hero type," he smiled explaining openly.

Eddie blinked and nodded slowly. "Any... Not so nice stories you can shear with us?"

"Jesus, Tony," Steve facepalmed. "Well. We have few," he said, glaring at Stark. "Sokovia… for example."

Tony knew that look. He knew that Cap blamed him for Ultron outburst, just like everyone else. Tony sighed, glaring at Steve. "Winter Soldier and so called 'Civil war'."

Eddie blinked and let out an akward laugh, feeling the tension growing between two Avengers. "S-Somwthing else? I mean, even we heard about those events... I was asking about some small stuff. Maybe funny even?"

"Being the Avenger doesn't mean a lot of funny things to happen, at least that's my opinion," Rogers said. "But I always like when we all are reunited. That's it. Our team is a family to me," Steve giggled, not looking at Tony.

Venom yawned. "Eddie. We're hungry."

"It is a lot of fun! Imagine this big guy," Stark pointed at Cap, "talking to a printer, saying stuff like 'come on, magic box, copy this documets for me'. But overall Rogers is right. Reunions are nice. One big family."

Eddie nodded and looked at Venom. "V, you see I am busy," he then turned back to Cap and Tony. "Bigest fears? Biggest dreams? I know this are kinda silly questions, but you know," Eddie winked at them.

Steve didn't want to admit it but Tony's comment about Steve's problems with technologies of any kind cheered him up. "That's truth. I might be out of ice since few years now yet all this things are still so incomprehensible to me," said he. "I still try to accommodate."

Venom poked Eddie's cheek. "Man, please, we're starving in here!"

Steve smiled and let of a soft laughter. "I think I have Twinkies in my bag." After these words Captain opened his leather bag and pulled out a pack of Twinkies.

Venom has opened his eyes wide and licked his long fangs. "Share, share?," symbiote asked politely, smiling.

"You can have even entire pack," Steve got up and walked to Eddie's desk, he out cookies on the counter.

Venom looked at Eddie. He remembered what Eddie has told them recently. If they want to eat something when there are other people in the same room, they should behave according to something that Eddie called savoir vivre. It meant they couldn't eat loudly and fiercely, they couldn't make noises.

Venom though about it for awhile and licked his fangs, he was shivering all over his body. And even though he knew they weren't alone with Eddie, and that Eddie asked him to behave before that meeting, Venom opened his jaw widely, letting saliva drip onto the counter of desk and he ate entire pack, including a cardboard.

"Hrr, yummy! Thank you, Cap Bootylicious!"

Eddie let out a loud sigh and shook his head. "I am so sorry for him... This creature isn't from here and well," Eddie shrugged with soft smile.

"I have something too. I had to eat it later but... There ya go," Tonny said pulling out a chocolate bar from pocket of his jacket. "Originally it had to be for Peter... But he fell down with his grades," Tony shrugged, putting bar on the table.

Venom instantly ate the bar, humming loudly as he did. "Yass, that was precious, we're feeling so so good now," Venom stated and snuggled with Eddie. "We love you, guys. Even you, Ed."

Captain laughed loudly and shook his head. "It's not that we haven't seen things similar to this before," he said. "You're welcome, Venom."

"Wow. Thanks, Venom," Eddie rolled his eyes. "Okay guys, two last questions and.... You didn't answer on last ones," Edie reminded softly. He started to pet Venom gently. "So, biggest fears and dreams that were the previous question. Do you love what you two and others are doing? And any interesing words to our readers?"

"I'm afraid of failure and losing people that I love," Steve said and smiled as he noticed how Venom nuzzled to Eddie's neck. "I like what we're doing. It's important that Earth has protectors," he added.

Tony storked his hair. "I am afraid of being alone and just like Steve. I am afraid of losing people I love and care about," he nodded. "I love what we do. It helps me repay my faults and fix past mistakes. Once I was taking lives. Now I am saving them. Mostly. And words to your readers. Do not be afraid, Avengers are here to save the day," Tony added quickly and shrugged, looking at Steve. "And golden thoughts, Cap? Maybe something like you have recorded for Peter's school?," he joked.

Steve rolled his eyes and looked at Venom. "If he's gonna be so annoying, I'll let you eat him alive."

Venom blinked and stiffened. "Gladly, with pleasure!," he licked his fangs. "Even though he's more like sardines can, we will eat him."

Steve rubbed back of his head. "All I can say is spread love, not hate."

Tony blinked. "HEY! I am not a sardines can! And you cannot eat good people? Right?!"

Eddie nodded. "That's true, V you can't eat Tony Stark. He is a good guy." Then Eddie checked if everything was recoded and clapped his hands happily. "I guess we are done. You two were just... Simply amazing! Thank you so much!"

"Pleasure is on our side," Steve said and shook Eddie's hand. He also petted Venom's head.

Symbiote opened his eyes widely, humming. "What a shame you ain't gay, Ed. Captain's so precious."

"Yea. Exactly what he said," Tony agreed with Cap.

Eddie blinked and blished. "VENOM?! WHAT ARE YOU SAYING!"

"You call it truth. We say the truth. Look. Captain. Glorious, gorgeous hero. America's ass. Bootylicious. Handsome and tall. Good man. And you. Not tall, chubby, kinda handsome, with strange ambitions, socially awkward and unsuccessful with women," Venom summed up.

Captain blinked and laughed hardly, almost choking himself with a water he was sipping.

"I have a girlfriend, you idiot!" Eddie growled at Venon. "I am not all of this! You are."

Tony simply laughed at the whole show, shaking his head slightly.

Steve smiled. "That's so nice Venom but well, Eddie wouldn't have a chance. No offense, of course, but I am taken," he shrugged.

"What?!" Tony and Eddie said in union.

"By who?," Venom was seemingly interested in topic.

"It's a secret," Steve winked at Venom and Eddie. "Maybe one day you'll figure out."

Tony rubbed his chin, thinking. "That's weird, Cap," he said and looked at his watch. "I think our time runs out."

Eddie looked at clock, too. "I think so, I don't want to hold you any longer. World to save and all."

Captain and Stark greeted Eddie and left.

Venom let out a sigh. "And we have almost provided you new friends."

"They are way ower me. Sadly we could never be real friends, V. Let's go get something to eat and then sit to writing, Y/N will come to check on us later."

Pandies🐼: @imidarogerson @grossograsso @thewildgardensstuff @leven-and-ashley @la-verdura @bearded-steve-rogers @sebbystan-plantlover @atuckyismylife @krispyjellyfishzombie @personality-within @haseki-huricihan @choppedgardenwhispers @vroobelek @lattimelka @chris-beamz @hidden-secrets69 @purepearls @volcanoxxx @kastrup-sofie @mikkal-akasaki @withoutashadowofhope @radbluebirdeagle @marvel-fan-site @smutloversblog @buquete @super-psycho-love69 @tanglesss @peter-sommer @baysidewest @vegemania @philip-stan @chodiusmmm @subwaystunnel @tykorclint @dagger-dragger @kurant @nothing-can-least-forever @oxfordkipem @deliciousbouquet90 @tuptuptup @hellenna80 @karina-marina9 @latimeriaaa @bratko @wurld89 @scott-evans @kiss-me-rouge @ovonel-espaniol @dancing-tacco @ratugadhi @white-tiger-shangrila @axn69 @eternal-life-awaits @mrs-laura-harmon @artsy-inside @gleeeeees  @darkllaama @jatut @agawux @fuzzy-tigrrr @jrjohnsson2 @maaargoshaaa @dontgetmewrongman @einexx @nwmtagsb @anini71 @secretlygrantaire @kyloren-supreme-ben @infinity-stones-seeker @thehappyspider @wings4life @huxyluxy @dontbeafraidchild @misafiryanki @electronicpatrolcollective @thisismysecrethappyplace @aulika @hidden-secrets69 @a-happy-wolf @creative-seahorse @biologyforliving